Author & Artist Jan Eliot Reading & Book Signing Thursday, November 21 7:00 p.m. • Free UO Bookstore UNIVERSITY OF OREGON BOOKSTORE More information online at uobookstore.com You are cordially invited to participate in designing the future EMU. This free-flowing forum with the EMU Master Plan architects is open to the entire campus community. Please drop by at your convenience. O UNIVERSITY OF OREGON going overseas? catch the Oregon daily emerald On the world wide web: www.daUyemerald.oom Woman slips Michael clues about women Chapter 8. At last! In Chapter 7, on a plane to Hong Kong, Monty filled Michael with 10,000 years of population statis tics, and the green-eyed woman kept reading. The Emerald is printing “And the Dew is Our National Treasure” in serial form, with an installment every Tuesday in the Pulse Relax section. Earlier installments can he found at www. dailyemerald. com. At the moment I begin to speak, the woman with green eyes jerks for ward, sending a wave of glistening, scented hair cascading around her shoulder. She makes a small, cute “snih” of a sneeze. Magnificent! Then she sneezes again, undoes her seat belt, stands and walks away. “People think we just need more food,” says Monty, more successful in his pursuit than I am in mine. “And with more land under cultivation, and more chemicals, we should have it. But we overwork the land, depleting the soil. World food production is declin ing, Also, we lose 24 to 26 billion tons of topsoil each year. And we use more en ergy: In 1900, it took one calorie of en ergy to produce one calorie of food. To day it takes 12 to produce one.” I no longer feel like being civil. “Why do you waste your time on something that can’t be stopped?” “But it can,” he says. “In every cul ture where women get more educa tion, birth rates go down.” The intercom clicks on and the stewardess announces: “We begin our descent to Hong Kong... “ Immediately, I stand and look around. The girl with green eyes is five rows back. And Fate left an empty seat beside her! I hurry, take the seat, catch my breath, and begin “You remind me of someone.” God, how stupid! She keeps reading. “I mean, you remind me of someone I’m looking for, some one who’s vanished.” Without turning her head, she asks, “And do you think I am she?” Her use of the correct pronoun suits her bearing. “No.” She scrutinizes my face quickly, then turns back to her reading. Where's wjr s