Reporter and I casually saw each other the rest of the semester. Despite a teacup set displayed in the corner of his bedroom, I was taken with him. (Regardless of where it was from [Reporter clears throat and shoots cuffs for WASPy emphasis “the New York Athletic Club…”] it was a strange decorating choice.) Whenever … More Ivy League
It was the first, but sadly not last, time a Burr President looked over my head at an alumni event to see who was more important to talk to… … More Tapping That: Alumni Fundraising
The communal cordless rang and rang about six hours before most of my roommates and I would have even considered getting out of bed. It was Reporter, and in those couple of minutes between realizing you are hungover and not knowing if you were going to be ok that day, I agreed to a road … More Media Driven
“Yeah love, Monica was hiding at my house in Cape Cod four days after the impeachment,” says Australian artisan olive oil peddler who is either a pathological liar or delusional psycho… … More The Man From Oz: DuPont Family Confidant and Lady Monica’s Landlord
I might be the only person turned on by all things included in the Architect of the Capitol’s yearly budget… … More Capitol Steps and Missteps: My Mild, Probable Ride
The whole thing was a letdown. Especially when miniature cats made out of white chocolate are part of the main event… … More Van Gogh’s Disappointing Holiday Garlic Chicken
New Year’s Eve 1998. I blew it… … More Postscript: Met My Old Lover at the Indian Restaurant…