We Almost There Cont Cont.

Cookie Stealer
How to translate this ecstasy into words? "She" sits in the middle of the floor, smack in the center of the walkway--Indian-style on her coat. It's jazz night--we are in the living room at the student center. Her body illustrates the music--a Dr. Seuss illustration. A group of "woo!" girls park next to her--a safe distance away. They sport a grocery bag from Lin's. "Her" eyes alight on the package of cookies that are slowly unveiled from the bag. Each woo girl daintily takes one. As the cookies are about to be returned to their resting place, she bursts out, "Kai have some?" "Sure," the cookies are extended--she takes the remaining cookies from that side of the tray--seven or eight. The evening progresses as Pithy watches cookie girl--literally "in another place"--eat and boogie. Soon, round one of cookies has been consumed, cookie girl flops to the floor, stretching her arm to span the distance to the prize--her shirt riding up. Woo girl spares herself the awkwardness and pretends not to notice. Cookie stealer cannot quite reach--she shimmies over the floor--at last! Eureka! Taking five or six, she spring back as if to be less noticeable. Cookie crumbs drop. Cookie stealer stands and arranges her coat to cover the mess. She lays down, flat on her back, her shirt riding again, a look of pure contentment spread over her face. Pithy definitely needs some of those cookies...

The following two slots require an apology to our gentle readers beforehand. We felt violated too.

I Am Fifty Going on Seventeen
She must be fifty at least, this woman in Prudie's drawing class. Not the good kind of fifty--the kind of too much cigarettes, alcohol, and unhealthy body image. It takes a lot to make a fifty-year-old like this. As if to mitigate her loud and insensitive personality, Fifty dresses to display the wares--give the world a 'lil summin summin. She has shoehorned herself into a white tube shirt--thanks to gravity and butter--over which she wears a full button shirt tied at the waist. When she sits, oh word!, BOING! (sorry, it had to be said)--the tube retracts with lightening speed, rolling itself up. Pithy will stop pre-described the exposed state. Suffice it to say, that whole "I am fifty going on sixteen waiting for life to start" didn't work in the Sound of Music, and it doesn't work for you.

The Crack of Dawn
It is synchronized. 10:05 every other morning. Prudie and Jerry unassumingly move from their first class to the library or the Smith center. Their phone buzzes. They reach in to their pockets--Yay! someone is thinking about us... They unlock the keypad and press view message. Their synchronized expulsion of disgust fills the air. Tom!--eeww! The caption: Good Morning. The photo: the same crack that sits in front of him every other morning. All the old jokes apply--their cup runneth o'er, peek-a-boo, the sunrise...Prudie and Jerry, yet again, decide to skip breakfast.