Norma Knows

This will be the last of my introductory paragraphs. I've realized that they serve no purpose but to be introductory. And who needs one? You all know what this is about. Questions. Answers. Big whoop.

Dear Norma,

A certain male friend of ours--we'll call him Joe--recently revealed to us his nefarious scheme for scamming on women. We feel obliged to warn our sisters about Joe's crafty strategies. Get this, Norma: he tries to pick up women by asking them for advice on wooing other damsels. Sometimes he tries this on several women at the same party. Heaven forbid that any innocent lamb should be caught in this social wolf's paws. We'd like to warn our fellow Cliffies, but don't know how. Oh, Norma, fount of all wisdom, guide us. Appalled in Adams

Dear Appalled,

Thank you for writing about this important and dire issue. He's so tacky! I hope you take my advice, which I have mulled over for hours and hours. There are several ways you could inform your "fellow Cliffies" about Joe's disgusting behavior. 1) Take out an advertisement in the Crimson. We have an enormous (but indeterminate) circulations, and you would reach most of your audience eventually by word of mouth. This costs money, however. 2) Put up banners in as many house dining halls as possible explaining Joe's exploits. If you use computer lab paper, this would be free. Very large audience. 3) Make announcements in classrooms. This and the banner methods are strange enough that Crimson News will report it, and you'll get free Crimson advertisement space. Doing both takes a lot of guts, though. 4) Gossip. Cheap, easy and bound to go far. Take at least one of my suggestions...he must be stopped!

Dear Norma,

I am a demon. My self-absorbed, sexist husband just won't let me go. He buried my ashes under the hazelnut tree and hasn't stopped mourning since the Carter administration. Now he's sold his soul to the devil to get an interactive CD-ROM to beam me out of my comfortable one-bedroom in Purgatory. He's such an asshole. What should I say to him when I see him? Should I bring up our earthly marital problems? Should I dress as Helen of Troy? Help me, Norma, what's a girl to do?   Perturbed in Pudding Purgatory

Dear Perturbed,

If he's as terrible as you say he is, you should make him regret selling his soul. Tell him everything you've dreamed up saying to him since you died. I'm sure you have some doozies. What else do have to do in Purgatory besides drink, learn how to twitch, and think up bitchy things to say? Make his life hell. You're a demon. It's your job. But whatever you do, don't dress as Helen of Troy.

Dear Norma,

I'm a pre-frosh, and I was wondering if you could help decide which college to attend. I'm choosing between Harvard and Yale. I've made a ranked, weighted pros and cons list and tallied up the score: The schools tied with a score of 15,635.338. I'm so frustrated! What should I do? Help!   Perplexed in Pierre, North Dakota

Dear Perplexed,

I feel your pain. I really do. I had to choose between Harvard and the Nashville Auto Diesel College, and it was the hardest decision I've ever had to make. I finally allowed the powers of the cosmos (and not my Mom, my significant other or my shrink) to help me.

I found the following spell in Madame Nack-wackyginger's Bibbity-Bobbity-Boo: The Best Spells and How to Cast Them (Random House, $14.95, hardcover):

Halooofubbidonko (or, Dream decision making)

1. Four days before the half moon, stop eating all guar gum products.

2. On the half moon, make this drink in a blender:

1/2 cup pureed turnip greens

1/4 teaspoon ginger

1 cup peach schnapps

1 tablespoon crushed nutmeg

1/8 teaspoon salt

1/4 cup chocolate jimmies

a light sprinkle of paprika for color.

3. At exactly midnight, chant this Herbert Albert Laurens Fisher quote in forced iambic pentameter: All political decisions are taken under great pressure, and if a treaty serves its turn for ten or twenty years, the wisdom of its framers is sufficiently confirmed.

4. Wait exactly one minute, then chug the drink. A red wine chaser is suggested, though not required.

5. Smoke one Camel Unfiltered cigarette in the light of the moon, and then immediately go to bed.

6. You will have a dream in which your decision will become clear.

In my dream, Stephen Jay Gould was jumping up and down on my stomach, screaming, "Say it! I will go to Harvard or devolve. Say it! I will go to Harvard or devolve! Say it! Say it! Say it!" The next September, I matriculated at Harvard.