I was walking to class the other day when I noticed the first snowflakes of the season drifting nonchalantly toward me. While I may not feel quite ready to trade my windbreaker in for a parka, the chill in the air reminded me that the season of thanks is upon us. I would be remiss if I didn’t thank those who have made my last few months in Kent so uplifting and spiritually fulfilling.

First, as a resident of University Street, I would like to thank all of the 17- to 22-year-olds who make my life there so colorful. And to think I moved there because it was the only apartment my cat and I could afford! My street offers so much more than housing. If I am thirsty, I can just reach down and pick up a half-empty bottle of Natty Light. If I need a smoke, half-smoked cigarettes line the sidewalks. The walk on University is never boring, as pedestrians must watch their step to avoid broken beer bottles and used condoms. It is like a constant game of hot lava – so fun!

To the gentlemen of the Sigma Nu annex, I owe so much to you and your cohorts. My walk to the Zephyr would be much more mundane if it were not for your endless stream of compliments. It’s flattering that you gentlemen take time away from your philanthropical work to shine a desk lamp upon qualifying lady passers-by to let us know that we are “looking fine” and are eligible for the intake of your undersized sex organs. I apologize for not taking you up on your offer sooner, but the only girls I ever see in your humble, trash-laden abode are wearing far less clothing than I ever have worn, and I’d hate to be the first girl to cross your threshold wearing underpants. Tradition is tradition. However, since you gentlemen do party just about every Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday night, I’m sure I’ll find the time to stop by and enjoy whatever libation pours from your cheery red plastic cups. Also, I love it when you open all your doors and windows and turn your stereo up loud enough so everyone on the block can enjoy your rockin’ tunes. How did you know I love hearing Linkin Park scream through my window while I’m trying to nap? So thoughtful.

My greatest thanks goes out to the Kent Police Department and the city as a whole. In theory, I’m sure you could stop underage girls from bonging beers in the middle of the street four nights a week, but that would really put a damper on all the fun. And while inebriated, grunting Neanderthals begin fighting in the streets – now, that is really a treat! It’s so much more fun to leave my house fearing for my safety when I walk down the street to grab a bite to eat. Dodging flying beer bottles, running away from drunk, 250-pound frat guys who “just want a little kiss” and constantly wondering if I’m going to get caught in a mindless brawl is way more fun than a quiet walk down an unsuspecting street. So please, don’t go out of your way to stop the thousands of illegal activities happening on the street until 4 a.m. each night. Where else will underage white girls with low self-esteem come to drink?

So again, thank you. Thank you for leaving your trash everywhere, because fall foliage is not nearly as pretty without the stench of cheap beer and sex. Thank you for all the racial slurs coming from you boys with Greek letters on your hoodies. Thank you for making me remember why this city loves college students so much. The next time I puke in the middle of the sidewalk, I’ll think fondly of all of you who beat me to it.

Beth Rankin is a senior photojournalism major.