Cobb

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August 01, 2003

1978

I started to write about sorority sisters, but I found that there were two different sections of my college career to speak of. In the first section, I was in complete awe of a few women and that led me to disrespect and stereotype all others. In the second section I was doing much better with women..

The sad fact is, that I cannot talk about women without getting autobiographical. Like most men, I suppose, I cannot get over the fact that all of the women I've known have been wrong for me, twisting me into different shapes I never expected to be. I cannot explain my thoughts and feelings about women simply. It's much simpler to ignore them. Women are subjective - far too subjective for my kind of essays. So I can't talk about Deltas or Sigma Gamma Rhos without talking about Dawn or Anita, and I can't talk about Dawn or Anita without talking about myself with and without them.

Still, I decided to go there. I got Sherman to turn the Wayback Machine back to that painful time when I was a 17 years old frosh. Young, dumb and you know the rest.

Rochelle was from North Las Vegas. She had fine features and very long straight hair that she kept in a single Pocahontas braid that went halfway down the sweet sway of her back. Basically, she dissed me for Rodney, a knucklehead kid from my own neighborhood who had grown impossibly large and played football.

It's kind of sad story with a happy ending, but I didn't write the happy ending. I can only tell you, that she wasn't a soror.

Posted by mbowen at August 1, 2003 11:11 AM

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Posted by: Liz at August 1, 2003 07:57 PM