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August 11th, 1977
Pale is weak. Vivid is strong. I love vivid people. Florid earthy pronouns. I am drawn to Latinos. Last night, after a marvelous party at Don Kelly’s– dinner at 8 for 8. Oh, Don you are too much. 8 clever, bright intelligent people. Wonderful evening. I am drawn to a guest named Carlos. Tall. Really tall. A big mustachioed dream of a man. Unaffected, funny, warm. I like him immediately.
Lots of drinking; after dinner– during charades– he sits next to me on the floor. Our legs touch. Both of us are aware of it– neither of us acknowledge it. Finally we smile. Slight grin. End of the evening Gregg and I were trying to decide how to get home (G is currently seeing a guy who lives here in Glover Park– so we were going to share a taxi.) Carlos offers a ride home. We smile. After dropping off Gregg, he brings me home and we park outside the apartment. I don’t want to bring him in because the apartment is such a wreck. I tell him that my roommate is entertaining– so I cannot invite him in. We neck in the car. It is wonderful.