This Side of Heaven

Screw you, campus post office…SCREW YOU.  You’re NOTHING like the North Pole.  I’ll stay on the receiving side of the mailboxes from now on, thank you very much.

Sincerely,

An angry, slightly sad, but mostly bitter blogger

*And now, on with my life. 

It was a cold, winter night and the sky was clear. All six tribes were gathered near the watering hole. Each tribe composed of all women, each dressed in their corresponding traditional costume for the occasion. For that night was a night of beginings. Tonight, each tribe of women would welcome in new members, and the young fawns would begin their rites of passage into the tribal community.
Earlier the day, all six tribes had been living in a state of silent war, and tensions were high. But on this night, all disagreements are set aside. Now they join in together, as women of their cultures, chanting and singing so that their wild voices are carried far into the night air. Their heavy breaths escape as smoke from their mouths in the cold winter breeze. In their seperate tribes but united as one, they dance feverishly together under the moon and the stars. Orion, with his belt, is one of few males given access to such a celebration. Feet stomping, hearts pounding, muscles aching, ears ringing, fingers freezing, and shouting voices getting so tired that they begin to flee the throat.
Then the young ones, not yet versed in the ways of their tribes, coming running from the watering hole, racing to the tribe that has selected them. They are greeted with thundering cheers, and surrounded with embraces…for they are now to consider that tribe a home. Bonds will be formed, and lessons will be learned. And when the day comes for a woman to leave her tribe, she will do it sadly, but as a far different person than when she entered. She will explore distant lands, but if she is wise, she will never forget the ways of her people.