Richard Grayson

It was the nicest kiss of my life. I went home to bed and had the most pleasant dreams.

Scott’s still living at the big house in Chevy Chase, dating rich JAPs who go to American (“I made it with the daughter of the doctor who cut off Betty Ford’s tit” – I don’t think I could ever top that line).

“We didn’t intend to move to Madison,” Shelli said. “We didn’t intend to get married,” Jerry added. “We didn’t intend to move to Boston. I didn’t intend to come out. But here we are.”

My car was stolen during the night. . . We called the police and they came right over: the same two officers who were here when there was a shot through the master bedroom window.

Elihu’s father got on the line and said that one of his teachers died suddenly this week. “I’m sorry,” I said, but it didn’t make any sense why he was telling me this. Then he said he’d like to see me to discuss my taking over the dead man’s Freshman Comp course.

If Stefanie gave me any encouragement, I could fall in love with her. But she doesn’t, and so Mikey and I left her house and walked back to his house via the beach. The ocean looked rougher than I would have thought.

I’m aware of my homosexual feelings and will probably act on them some day in the future, but at this point in my life, basically I find the gay world as it’s been shown to me to be a great big bore.

Spring told me she had dated Sean again a couple of times last fall but doesn’t see him anymore. “He’s into dealing now, and being a stud, and I find him a pompous ass,” she said.

I walked through Bryant Park, where several pairs of lovers were kissing on the benches and two office girls were flirting with a shaggy-haired, baby-faced cop.

The glow from selling a story is beginning to lose its luster, but in a way, I still cannot believe somebody would pay me $25 for a story I completed in half an hour.

Since he was carrying a knapsack of books, I figured he was probably going up to Columbia. He kept staring, and I looked at him, then looked away, then met his eyes again, and I smiled shyly.

As Alice told me today, I don’t miss Ronna specifically so much as I just miss having a girlfriend. “And,” Alice said, “the solution to that is obvious.”