The Exodus

Let's start at the very beginning--that's a very good place to start.

Backing...left, left--no left!...pull forward. Backing...backing, pull forward. Rinse and repeat. At last, the ball and hitch come together in perfect alignment with the sun, moon, stars--each other, and we embark. At six thirty, the morning still smells cold. Prudence sits center, playing chicky buffer for Tom and Jerry. Roger Miller crowns us "King of the Road."

Orientation is in the Ballroom. Any hopes we have of an enchanting Cinderella ballroom are rudely grounded when we enter with our appropriate sticker colors and find the tables foaming over with incoming freshmen--not the good kind of foaming over, the kind that leaves you with a dirty glass and sticky between your fingers. Prudence is accosted by a "perky" group leader threatening group "getting to know you" games. She says no--not with her mouth, with her eyes--but Perky doesn't speak you'vegottobekiddingme eye language.

Lesson One: "Make connections! Make, Make Connections!" Tom does not realize the grave importance of this concept at first. However, after Orientation Leader explains that through these connections unfortunates from Metropolis Chicago will receive their first exposure to horses--his confusion dissipates. He will make connections--the horses must be exposed!

Upon realizing that they already knew that the difference between college and high school was that one is college and one is high school, Pithy opts to ditch the remaining itinerary. We can do this--we made connections.

Jerry has arranged a meeting with LandLady at our chateau. Arriving to a warm hello, we walk through the terms and expectations. Pretty sure we have the best deal in town. Like the grown ups we are, the rooms are chosen (or assigned as may be the case) through thoughtful consideration and compromise--"Let's think this through. I think you should have that room and I should have this room. Hmm...you want this room? Lets compromise--I'll have this room, you have that room. Glad we worked this out."

Granted, we didn't have any parted seas or half clad Egyptians chasing us; our Exodus did, however, leave us hot, tired, and prepared for the bright new possibility of fresh beginnings.

Where to start....

Pithy is a group of folk family singers…um, well one of us sings anyway; the other two carve delicate hearts out of Styrofoam and fry ants through magnifying glasses, respectively. We consist of two guys and a girl—this is necessary for you to know because said girl plans to invoke audience empathy and feels it necessary that the female demographic of our readership identify with her sex. *Insert Comment: (Girl) “She also holds all executive power—including rights of veto.”*

In truth, we are college students preparing for the day when we too don our cape and fashionable superhero suit to change the world. We are generally excited about life—statistics show that unmarried people going to college are the happiest they will ever be—don’t argue—it’s from a Lifespan Development book. This verity could paint a bleak future for those unluckies embarking on life’s marriage voyage (yea—we made a metaphor!), in fact it does—but, that is a problem for said unluckies and future Pithy.

We feel one of the great mind destroyers of college education is the belief that if it is very complex, it is very profound. Rather, like other twentysomething college students, we find profundity in those things relevant to ourselves (don’t hate us cuz we’re beautiful). We therefore pledge to present the simple events of our lives (apologizing beforehand for the TooMuchInformations and OverShares), and hope you see the relevance.