Two weeks ago, during the auspicious week of my birthday, I went to the Lena Dunham book party. Since then, the two copies of Famesick — one of which was 1 of the 2 last copies Nicolaia Rips and I found at the party, their jackets sticky with non-alcoholic wine, the other mailed to my old apartment in Bushwick — have been stacked on my bedside like bibles.
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