I’d just finished my fall-term exams. I felt at once both played-out and relieved.
Ever felt like just falling over? Didn’t I deserve that small treat after what I’d achieved?
No doubt our floor was ***** but dust, in blonde hair, isn’t easily perceived.
I was lying, relaxed, on the cool common room floor in sedate prostration
when my boyfriend arrived. He was eager for some post-exam reunification
but I lacked the energy for synergy, the motivation for combination
or even flirtation. Which left him grumbling with male frustration.
He suggested, “Why don’t we go out for some libation?”
Oh, what a smooth-talker - that’s practically a direct quotation.
“Oh, sure,” I said, “ply me with ***** and into temptation!”
Side stepping that, he proclaimed, “It’s time to celebrate and the start of vacation!”
I held up my hands and he pulled me upright, “Ok.” I said in resigned assignation.
A shower and change of clothes soon had me refreshed and reanimated.
How sad I’d have been to miss the end of term conversations imbued by holiday decorations
and I offer this to you, my small, winter, college-based narration.
In the hope that you’ll be inspired, even if you’re tired, to celebrate your own holiday occasions.

Happy Holidays Everyone!

I’m sporting this new lipstick
it won’t fade, smudge or smear
I’ll be lucky if it wears off this year.

I’ve got this new eyeliner that’s like
a luxurious, glittering, penciled tattoo
Leong asked, “How do you get it off you?”

I unpacked these chemical wonders
to see if they’ve lost their luster
by being neglected since last summer.
    
When you study too much, you feel pent-up,
so my compadres and I chose to get dolled-up,
rolling-up to dinner, like beauty queens on parade,
and not just sophomore scrubs trying to make the grade.

It snowed last night which pleased me - but hardly enough - it just teased me.

The thin, white sheet of snow looked bright and fresh
the dull, browned hedges of fall became holiday dressed,
the air had a sharp, chill perfume and the ground a new, sparkling flesh.

Lisa, a New Yorker who knows snow, gawked at me as if I were insane,
“You’re excited by NOTHING,” she sarcastically complained.

I replied, “When it snows there’s a quiet solace, and the world looks clean and flawless.”

The weatherman is promising us a blanket of snow this weekend
and that would be nice, a storm of ice, to lock us in as the week ends

It’s Tuesday morning. I’d thought, until Leeza corrected me, that Thanksgiving was today.
“Thanksgiving always falls on Thursday, dorkus,” Leeza said Sunday, at breakfast (extirpating my hopes). “Besides, notice we haven’t been cooking?” She added.
“Good point.” I chuckled disappointedly.

Later, Lisa, Leeza and I had just got back from the pool where we saw John Krasinski and Emily Blunt. Leeza told me that Paramount studios has a condo, somewhere - on the 29th floor - where celebs stay (When you don’t know where something is, it’s on the mysterious 29th floor). Peter missed it. He didn’t join us because it’s a saltwater pool and it stings his warm but delicate, deep brown eyes.

I wondered what Peter was doing - push-ups on the balcony or something probably. Who knew he exercised so much? There’s a whole state-of-the-art gym but he likes exercising outdoors. I checked and yeah, there he was, on the balcony in the 46° wind, doing curls or something with elastic bands.

I sipped on some of Karen’s (Lisa & Leeza’s mom) nummy cinnamon-apple-cider and watched him for a few delicious minutes. Peter really is kind of fire, I decided. Then I popped my head out, “Come shower, Lisa wants to go out,” I announced. He just nodded and began packing up. I ran for my room to shower first (we share a shower).

"So Man created god in his own image,in the image Man,he created him,Pagan and Non-Pagan he created them"

An art or a sport
Some whisper a ‘crazy obsession’,
And like Golf where age won't cut short
At least our pastime won't lead to depression.

A hook and a line
Much patience, sun balms,
No rush when your world is sublime
With glistening waters and a horizon of wavering palms.

They ask what we do
Long hours surveying the sea,
So little they know for amidst all that blue
Lies the quest that only we see.

That adrenalin rush
A shout or a curse, the rod twitching possessed,
Tranquility broken no semblance of hush
All steely resolve now hard pressed

Arms aching, back breaking
Reel screaming the line pulling so deep,
Fish gaining, strength failing
Maybe this task is too steep.

We win some, we lose some
The joy’s in the chase not the catch,
No matter the outcome no semblance of glum
And for this feeling there’s simply no match.

Sophy’s mom sent her a giant case of “Fun dip” - a thousand packets of sour, fruit-flavored sugar. Is there anything more junkavore a parent can buy a child - well, ok, an 18 year old?

She LOVES them and so does Leong who’s from China where, apparently, you can’t get useless, non-nutritional snacks. The two of them are running around, all sugar hyped with their emo-grape-chemical-lips, sticking out phosphorescent-green-tongues and threatening to tickle everyone with cherry-red-fingers. It has me wondering, should I switch to dentistry?

Our college prep has moved to a new phase - with just 16 days until we move back into our residential college. We’re suddenly sleeping-in. It’s nothing we planned or even discussed, it just started happening. We go to sleep around 10pm and sleep until 10am - or later. I think we all subconsciously realized that soon we’ll be back to sleeplessness.

I’m peachy - in a great mindspace - these days. I’m well rested (see above), we’re killing our sophomore prep - even the physics, my period was a nothing, we spent over two hours in Ulta sampling perfumes, I have a new Macbook M2 (see below) and I painted my nails in tropical colors.

The FedEx man rolled up yesterday. “Anyone expecting something?” Anna asked the crowd of roommates attracted by the driver bringing packages to the door, two at a time. No one was expecting anything. Eventually he’d delivered 8, back to school, M2-Macbooks (2 in each color) - one for everyone - from my Grandmère.

If that sounds needlessly ostentatious, then you’re thinking she went to the mall and paid full price, but she probably just traded Tim Cook a half ton of lithium or something - one of her companies mines it - in Chili - I think. But still, my roommates were blagabloo.

I picked a starlight one. An odd thing about the new, flat Macbook Air design is that you can’t pick it up with one hand - unless you hook it underneath with a long fingernail - what are guys going to do?