Slippery Dance Party Feat. “The Max Hollenb-ck Squat Move”

tonight i made a friend named jacob laz-r. he’s maybe an inch shorter than i am with really sad eyes; he goes to brandeis, he’s into choral music, he likes clothes, and he’s pretty gay. when i say that i am referring to the multitude of sexual-preference claims he threw into tonight’s conversation– blah blah presidency at the queer alliance, flock of lesbian friends at smith, many ex-boyfriends, unflagging interest in the designer of my jacket,”i don’t usually go to straight clubs,” and so on. i’m inclined to believe most of this was for the benefit of Frumpy Angela, a particularly unattractive minority studies major from gettysburg who was kinda getting all up on him at the Barbar Bar tonight. no matter: how brilliant an idea it is for jacob to be wholly uninterested in girls! it will be impossible for me to get myself into trouble. i do wish i could stop this trend of acquiring short friends, though; that’s not very danish. next time.

also, last night, a bouncer hit me in the mouth. i’m not sure what it means when a bouncer hits you in the mouth, but i’m hesitant to wonder too hard because it can’t be very nice. why would .. to be fair, it might have been that stupid thing where you inspect someone’s lapel and then when they look downward to see what the deal is you smack them up a little on the nose.. but this guy sort of stuck his hand at me and tugged my collar and then whacked me on the lips. i invoke the “WTF.” it is justified.

ohhhhh i drank too many mojitos (1). one mojito and my stomach feels kind of deterred for life, though the brown sugar crystals at the bottom of the glass were kind of a sensory pleasure stand-in for bubble tea. i’m tired and i’m going to go to bed even though the danes will be up for another four hours. tonight i was walking home from the train station and as i passed beneath an open window i heard a roomful of voices break into the refrain of “i kissed a girl.” i smiled, and i missed [home].

eliot st-mpf, huh? well i’ll be darned.

send booze. send reinforcements.

love,
lucy

p.s. Frumpy Angela studies minorities, not bes one. otherwise she would be a “studies major,” which is not the case.
p.p.s. you’re twelve. this is ridiculous (re: attached).

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