He came to the party by himself. The night didn't end as planned, with us in my room shyly discussing the D.H. Lawrence novel we're reading in class illuminated only by the glow of Christmas lights, but I guess it's a start? We talked about Mexico (he'd never been) and Venezuela (he told me stories about how he felt the awkward, gangling Gringo. I'
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We should hang out sometime. Outside of a party context. It feels emotionally alienating to only meet LJ'ers when they've got beers in their hands, y'know? Lemme know.
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