<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Aro on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/aro/</link><description>Recent content in Aro on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 21 Jul 2007 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/aro/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Mirror, Mirror</title><link>/stories/2007/07/21/mirror-mirror/</link><pubDate>Sat, 21 Jul 2007 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2007/07/21/mirror-mirror/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;I slammed the door behind me, crossed the miniscule space of my dorm
single, dropped my bookbag on the floor, and threw myself into bed. For
a few seconds I just lay there on my back, then I grabbed my pillow, put
it over my face, and let loose with a little primal scream therapy.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Why did it have to be so difficult? When I first got to college,
I remember noticing right away that the guys had changed. If you looked
past the frat-boys, past the drunken binges every weekend, past the macho
strutters, there were actually some fairly intelligent and eloquent men
to be found on campus. After going to high school in La-La-Land with the
surf-bums-and-beach-babes-in-training, it was refreshing to be able to
have a halfway decent conversation with someone of the opposite gender.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>