Monotony: Having lived in Arizona for the first 18 years of my life, leaves of varied colors seen during something called "Autumn"were strange and foreign to me. Whenever I would travel to Utah or somewhere similar during that time of the year I would marvel in the beauty of the seas of golden, bronzed, and yellow leaves. No longer do I see such beauty. When I came up to Provo, UT for school, I got a job on campus working with the grounds crew. We blow leaves. Lots of them. Every single day. I go to work at 8:00, strap on my backpack leaf blower and blow for the next four hours. I now realize how selfish I was all those years seeing beauty in those fallen leaves, because I never realized that some poor unfortunate soul would have to pick up those blasted things. I suppose it could be worse. I mean I could have to pick up the leaves individually with chopsticks, have my fingernails pulled out with pliers and then forces to scrape them off the wet ground, or I could be forced to endure the Chinese water torture for four hours a day.

Exceptionality: Remember, remember the 5th of November. Have you ever heard this saying and not understood what it was referring to? That use to be me, but as of recently I was cultured and learned exactly what the 5th of November is and how it should be celebrated. Apparently on November 5th in 1605 some fool by the name of Guy Fawkes made a failed attempt to place and detonate a bomb beneath the House of Lords; if he had been successful he would have killed King James I and members of Parliament. The date is known as Guy Fawkes Night. I have no idea why this specific failed assassination attempt is remembered, seeing as there have been a plethora of homicidal under-achievers throughout history. But this is not the true matter of discussion. If you wish to properly celebrate Nov. 5th, the following is the list of supplies you will need: 50 empty milk jugs, an old newspaper, about 40 gallons of gasoline, an old, abandoned mineshaft, and a lighter. If you have not already figured it out, the proper celebration is composed of throwing molotov cocktails (fashioned from milk jugs, gasoline, and newspaper) down an old abandoned mineshaft in the middle of nowhere. I must admit when I first heard the plans for the night I was a little skeptical, but after watching the first flaming milk jug fall deep into the bellows of the mineshaft, smash into the wall, and burst into a spectacular fireball, I was hooked. It is a November tradition I plan to continue for many years to come and recommend to all who wish to change their lives forever. It is also acceptable to burn Guy Fawkes in effigy to end the night's festivities.

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