One of my items under the proverbial “Things to do Before I Die” list is to get into a fight. And I mean a real good fight, maybe in a bar, with broken beer bottles, a “What the f*ck did you just call me?!”, lots of punching and hopefully a few gashes on the arm. I want my fight to basically have everything that makes a fight awesome (except hair pulling, kiddy pools filled with chocolate pudding and bikinis, those are no-nos).

I don’t even care if it’s with a boy or girl. I would prefer the latter only because a girl with a similar body type is easier to handle (assuming I can “handle” anyone at all), but then I run the risk of people objectifying us into some sexist “catfight” scene (you know, because it’s that easy for me to be seen as a sex object, damn). On the other hand, if I get into a fight with a guy and win, how awesome would that be?

Of course, all this daydreaming about the perfect fight always ends with me winning, which, you may have noticed, might not be the most realistic expectation ever. It technically wouldn’t make any sense that I could ever win a fight – I’m 95 pounds with no athletic ability (unless you consider drilling holes in the bodies of my enemies with ping pong balls because they cannot escape the wrath of my super-sonic slams), ailing from a chronic breathing illness and I have a body type that still makes me a legitimate demographic for the Limited Too™.

Because I’d like to say “No thanks“ to ever getting my ass handed to me, I do have a couple tricks up my sleeve should I ever get into a fight.

Choose your opponents wisely. When assessing the situation, you should seriously ask yourself, “Do I have a good chance of winning this thing?” If the answer is a resounding, “No, probably not. You will get your face smashed,” then that’s a good indication that your body is telling you no – even if your fists are screaming, “Let’s do this thing!”

The only way I could ever win, for instance, is if I went up against a toddler or some sort of very obese infant. Other options include: a 3-year-old with vertigo, a 5-year-old with severe narcolepsy, and perhaps I could take on a very debilitated 7-year-old with no sense of sight. But that’s a big maybe.

If it looks like you’re about to die, you can always opt out of the fight. It’s true that quitters never win but then again, quitters never lose either. If you forfeit the match by groveling or any other extreme act of desperation, but still get to keep your neck, I’d definitely say that’s a win.

A few things you can do are throw money at your opponent or my personal favorite – tell on them. Preferably to someone who has some sort of authoritative standing like a police officer or a bar manager. Unfortunately, I advise against calling up your mother in the middle of the fight and expect her to do something in the next five seconds that would prevent your opponent from collapsing your lungs with his fist (I’ve never been so utterly disappointed by her than after that).

Never be the one to pick the fight because claiming self-defense is a great argument in court, just in case you end up killing the guy or something. Also, if someone picks a fight with you, you are automatically absolved of all blame for whatever the fight was about. Even if it was something stupid like some girl screaming at you because you were staring at her cleavage and rolling your eyes (because she obviously wore that low-cut dress so people can notice her deep intelligence and sparkling personality) you become the victim once she stabs your face with her stilettos, huzzah!

If you do start a fight, you better make sure it was for a good reason. Nothing is worse than getting into a fight in a public space only to realize that no one is standing behind you because you, sir, are an idiot.

It also sucks when all your friends completely disagree with what you’re doing and you end up not only being beaten up by that guy at the bar, but also by all your best friends who sided with him and are now going to eat lunch with him next week and be on his Ultimate Frisbee team.

LYNN LOO LA hopes that after this column runs, random people will not all of a sudden want to kick her ass. E-mail her at ldla@ucdavis.edu.

Breaking free of the quarter‘s strong current, nearly at the surface, your lips can almost taste the freedom‘s fresh air. But before you can even take a half-breath, you are jerked back beneath the waves.

Thanksgiving Break was just a decoy.

We are all beginning to feel this in the quarter‘s final crunch. It‘s a time when the hard-working scholar and lazy student alike feel reality‘s clamps begin to crush their skulls; when worry enters the bloodstream like some kind of spoiled liquor. I know I‘m feeling it. We all are. This week I want to take a break from politics and history. I want to talk about life.

Just as the scorching Davis summer gives way to the bone-chilling winter with little hint of autumn, we enter college as children and without even realizing it, grow up. We begin as scared freshmen, thinking we have it all figured out. Things don‘t always turn out exactly as we planned, but through our failures and successes we became better for it.

It‘s funny to reach the point in your life where you can no longer talk about what you are going to be or do when you grow up; because whether you noticed it or not, it has already happened. The time to act, the time to be who you always wanted to be, is now.

I always bought into the idea that knowledge is power and inevitably leads to success in life. I still stand by this belief. But if there is one thing I‘ve learned in college, it‘s that the test of a successful college career is not entirely based on classroom performance. I am no advocate for the low-life who justifies excessive partying with the argument that college is only about having fun.

But I would also encourage the anti-social library rat to close the books every now and then, venture outside, and live life, because that‘s what college is all about. It‘s about learning through our experiences. It‘s about figuring out what drives you, what you stand for, and finding balance between work and play. College is a bona fide human incubator that determines who you will be for the rest of your life.

It‘s easy to lose perspective of reality when we get caught up in our little worlds and forget what truly matters. Although it may be hard to believe, the bad grade you got in that class you worked so hard to succeed in will not herald the end of days. In two weeks the class that was your life‘s bane for 10 weeks will be out of your life forever.

At the same time, it is wasted privilege to fail that class because you did not put in the effort. In the end, it‘s all about whether you can look back and know that you did the best you could, learned from your mistakes, and always did what you felt was right. I‘d say that was a life worth living. At the end of the day you are the only one who will have to face the reflection in the mirror.

So what can you do right now to make it through this stressful time?

First, believe in yourself. You were admitted into UC Davis because you are a capable student.

Second, make a plan. You know when your finals are; figure out what needs to be done and by when.

Third, avoid social temptations. Not everyone will be as committed to success as you, so know when to say no. Find a comfortable place where you can focus and get things done, like the library or the Coho (i.e. somewhere that is not Froggy‘s, G-Pub, or your friend‘s basement).

Finally, put it all in perspective. All you can expect to do is your best. Nothing more, nothing less.

I know. I‘m the quotes guy. You are just going to have to deal with it. But think about these words in the days ahead: “It is not what’s happening to you now or what has happened in your past that determines who you will become. Rather, it’s your decisions about what to focus on, what things mean to you, and what you’re going to do about them that will determine your ultimate destiny.“

You have the ability to change your academic fortunes right now. Get organized, get motivated, and study hard.

Whatever you do, just don‘t forget to breathe.

MICHAEL HOWER will be living in the library for the next week and a half. He‘ll be the guy in the main study hall evading the library monitors and unassumingly munching on Goldish. If you also enjoy Goldfish, then contact him at mahower@ucdavis.edu.

In 2004, the Bush Administration strengthened the Cuba embargo first put forth in 1963. The 2004 ban was focused on higher education: Study abroad trips shorter than 10 weeks were declared illegal because they did not provide opportunities for genuine academic study or exchange of ideas about democracy, according to a report from the U.S. State Department. A group of academics had challenged this ban, which was recently upheld by a federal appeals court.

The 1963 trade embargo looks foolish enough 45 years later; to see that the government is looking only to strengthen this embargo at the expense of education is a national shame. Halting trade with a small island nation simply because its political system is not the same as ours is closed-minded and foolish.

This embargo is even more alarming when contrasted with how America treats other Communist nations. One needs to look no further than China to see that when there is economic incentive, America will put aside its political goals.

The Bush Administration illogically believed that reducing the number of Americans in Cuba would hasten the state’s transition to democracy. Although anti-American sentiment is high around the globe, the best way to introduce democracy to a country is to have people espousing the virtues of it. By limiting the number of Americans in Cuba, we are ensuring that Cubans will be less exposed to democracy than they would be otherwise.

America is a free country. This freedom must extend to learning about other cultures, especially when they are different from our own.

In the wake of our current financial crisis, the American public’s desire to finger the guilty party resembles a poorly played match of Milton Bradley’s “Clue.“

In this board game analogy, the role of Mr. Boddy is played by our dying economy, and for many, the most logical culprit for the murder seems to be “Mr. Capitalism with an unregulated market on the steps of Wall Street.” While this judgment couldn’t be further from the truth, it seems as if each passing day adds another name to the list of those willing to drop responsibility into the lap of laissez-faire economics.

Prior to his election, Barack Obama stated that it was the government’s refusal to place necessary regulations on the economy that led to the current crisis. In a move that seemed to follow Obama’s lead, French President Nicolas Sarkozy stated that “Laissez-faire is finished. The all-powerful market that always knows best is finished.”

This frightening yet ill-planned blame game has even infiltrated the pages of The California Aggie, evident in my fellow Tuesday columnist’s statement, “Just as unregulated capitalism nearly destroyed us once before, it threatens to do it again. Wall Street is a casino for the insanely rich who gamble terrifying quantities of money on a daily basis. Unrestricted capitalism breeds unrestricted greed.“

If our world operated strictly on the rules of Clue, the players mentioned above, along with the millions of other Americans eager to point the finger, would find that their beloved scapegoat – laissez-faire capitalism – was not only innocent, but wasn’t even present at the time of the murder.

The fact is that unregulated capitalism hasn’t existed in our country in quite some time. In the words of financial expert Yaron Brook, “Laissez-faire means laissez-faire: no welfare state entitlements, no Federal Reserve monetary manipulation, no regulatory bullying, no controls, no government interference in the economy.“

America’s gradual transition to a welfare state that began with the New Deal policies of FDR effectively destroyed the notion of true capitalism, so the idea that laissez-faire economics has caused this financial crisis, or even exists, is not only untrue but downright laughable.

Now, desperate for a solution, our country is beginning to increase the amount of government regulation present in the economy, threatening to up the dosage of the same poison that got us into this mess in the first place.

For those of you who refuse to acknowledge the symbolism of that statement, or are simply not intelligent enough to understand the idea of rhetorical devices, I will state it plainly: The financial crisis was not caused by an unregulated economy, but rather is the result of government intervention.

The current economic mess faced by our country entered the public eye via the mortgage crisis and the emergence of the so-called “housing bubble.” While some ignorantly claim that greed-driven capitalism was to blame, the real cause was the Federal Reserve keeping interest rates below the level of inflation, thus creating the illusion of artificially low mortgage rates. Unsuspecting buyers entered the market, purchased homes, and … well, you know the rest.

Now, as the American media covers the $700 billion bailout, a possible rescue of the auto industry, and the hundreds of other ways our country plans to destroy its economy it seems as if the inevitable is approaching.

I simply ask that when the whole system goes down the tubes, the American public point the finger at the guilty party, and resist the urge to further drag the name of capitalism through the mud.

JAMES NOONAN’s ego has survived yet another week of hate mail. Somewhere along the line this guy’s going to break, right? Hit him with your best shot at jjnoonan@ucdavis.edu.

Every year retailers across the country hold sales the Friday after Thanksgiving (“Black Friday“) in order to usher in a new year of profitability.

This year was much the same, except for Jdimytai Damour, 34, a temporary worker at a Wal-Mart in Long Island who was trampled to death by rabid, greedy consumers.

Wal-Mart described the incident as “unfortunate.“

Unfortunate is certainly one way to describe it. Deplorable is another. Disgraceful is one more. The holiday shoppers should be ashamed of their actions, actions that proved they valued second-rate consumer goods at discounted prices more than human life. The Wal-Mart management should be ashamed for allowing such a dangerous, unsafe display of greed.

The store has been widely criticized, especially by workers‘ unions, for not having planned well enough for the legion of avarice that assaulted their storefront.

“Each store takes its own precautions, extra precautions on busy days like Black Friday, to ensure there’s a safe shopping environment for our customers and our associates,” said corporate spokesperson David Tovar.

Obviously the precautions taken at this store were woefully inadequate. Not only was Damour killed in the stampede, but four other individuals, including a woman eight months pregnant, were taken to the hospital with injuries.

Shoppers told to clear the store by the police responded with complaints that they had been in line for hours.

Every facet of this incident is ridiculous. If companies wish to continue using Black Friday as a significant source of revenue, they have a responsibility to ensure the safety and well being of both shoppers and employees. Crazed consumers should exercise caution and common sense when negotiating the line between aggressive shopping and mob-like behavior.

When it comes to giving thanks on Thanksgiving, most people I know focus on the big things in their lives.

While I cannot even begin to give enough thanks for all of the wonderful things I have in my life, I have decided that this Thanksgiving I will really try to pay attention to all the little things that make every day worth getting up for.

I spent Thanksgiving break with my mom, brother, grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins. Eleven of us together in one house for a full week (and yes, I gave thanks for the fact that there were 5 bathrooms). We played games, made meals, went for walks on the beach. But the concept of really being grateful for little, inconsequential things was triggered by a televised, high school volleyball game. I have no explanation as to why we turned it on, but for some reason we all watched. People took sides, started rooting for one team or another.

Everyone, including my grandmother, was cheering wildly for their team, and only toward the end did it begin to seem strange that we were cheering for a game none of us had a stake in. We knew nothing about the players or much about the schools. But, that couldn’t have mattered less. We were having a ball laughing and cheering.

In the grand scheme of things, who won that volleyball championship has already been forgotten, but being with my family and enjoying their company made that seemingly little, moment gloriously unforgettable. Sometimes it takes a little thing to remind you that simple pleasures can be cherished.

I am thankful for all kinds of things: turning on the television at the best part of a favorite movie; finding a good friend on gchat; going to Safeway and having something on my shopping list massively on sale; having exact change; a nice long walk on the beach; a really good piece of hot rye bread from my favorite deli.

We’ve all heard the saying “don’t sweat the small stuff,” and that is certainly good advice, but it may be just as important to truly appreciate the small stuff like going to the Coho and discovering it’s your favorite scone day. Sometimes one of those little things can absolutely set the tone, or change your mood for an entire day.

For me, Thanksgiving is also a time to remember simple, yet profound family traditions. Ours is a tradition that began when my grandparents began celebrating Thanksgiving with their best friends decades ago. Now those close friends still make up the core of the group, but there are two (and sometimes three) generations of family added on. Even though we don’t see them often, there’s something warm and familiar about spending this holiday with the same people every year.

Traditions are wonderful, if for no other reason than they remind you of the things you can count on. They can be as formal and universal as a big Thanksgiving meal, or much more intimate, the little things you share with the people closest to you. My brother is always the first to give me a hug when I fly into the Burbank airport, my dad always drives me back to the airport when I head back to school. Then when I get back to Davis, there is always an e-card waiting from my mom. I love these little traditions; there’s nothing quite as heartwarming as a repeat performance you can count on to put a smile on your face.

When I sat down to write this column, I considered talking about being thankful for even the things that seem negative in our lives. I toyed with the idea of a more philosophical Thanksgiving prose complete with thanks for health, family and being surrounded by love. I even considered ignoring Thanksgiving completely. Ultimately I realized I sometimes spend too much time consumed with thinking about the big picture. There’s plenty of time for that. So that’s how I hit on number eight on my list. Giving thanks to the little things that have made me feel blessed all my life. I hope that never stops.

EMILY KAPLAN hates that whenever she packs to go back from somewhere, things never fit back as neatly as when she left. She’d be eternally grateful if anyone having packing tips would e-mail her at eckaplan@ucdavis.edu.