… and terrible youth wrote James Joyce at the very end of Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man.
Today, UD only saw the exultancy — on the playing field, the college quad, the city street.
The playing field was in Poolesville, a distant suburb of Washington and site of the Chesapeake Open frisbee tournament, where, under massive white clouds and blue sky, UD listened as her friend Courtney started explaining how frisbee’s played and then suddenly raced off to the field with her team, Scandal. Courtney wore a backwards baseball cap, a powder blue team shirt, and gray shorts that said SCANDAL in big black letters.
Profane UD was in her element here, as the mild summer air rang with fuck, shit, bitches, asshole, eat me and other cheers. These were women after UD‘s heart – frolicsome foulmouths who already knew what that silly British scientist felt he needed to prove scientifically: swearing is a beautiful thing, especially in a woman. It makes the pain go away.
Later Les UDs met up with La Kid, just moved into tony new digs at George Washington University. All over campus groups of students gathered to talk about their summers and get to know one another again. UD gazed at them as they lounged in the evening light. Beautiful.