It's funny...

...the things that you think about, the things you remember, when you are writing a book. Like the one that just came to mind as I lit a candle to meditate before heading out to the hipster coffee shop...

...It is 1995. I will be graduating from college in the spring. I'm the executive editor of the student newspaper. I am quite thin (thanks, bulimia!) and apparently fetching enough that two of the editors on staff are having a strange, primordial (it involves the obtaining of fire) fight for my attention. One is the news editor; he is quite pale and nerdy. The other is the photo editor -- he's a bit of a beefcake and is fond of bringing his expensive, thick-framed mountain bike into the newspaper office and bouncing himself around the room on it while talking to me.

Both boys are standing back-end-front before me, trying desperately to light wooden matches using their asses. Nerdy boy is muttering swears under his breath as he swipes the match head again and again against his smooshy bottom. As often happens in real life, beefcake boy wins. You could smash bricks on his fanny; he lights his match in short order. "Ha ha!," he proclaims, looking at me for approval and adulation. I can only shake my head in disbelief.