December 2012

A review of last year’s sexual resolutions, and some new ones — sexual and not.

My confidence is a surprisingly reliable barometer of my mental health — and my proximity to old, dark habits.

L gets the last word on safer sex. As she should.

Fragile male ego, professional hierarchies, and the long slide from smartest-person-in-the-room to peon at the base of a smaller hill.

Leonard Cohen, at 78, made T and L melt — and me too.

Apparently, I underestimated how people would react if I questioned their monogamy. I won’t make that mistake again.

I think that if we compare the risks associated with sex to the rewards it brings us, we’ll find that we do a really poor job of decision-making.

In which I foolhardily attack other people’s monogamy. And their “monogamy.” By wondering just how many people who think themselves monogamous really are.

Am I a “sex addict”? Is there such a thing? Is it a meaningful term? One reader delights in calling me a sex addict. What do I have to say about it?

I have a casual attitude toward sexually transmitted infections. And, with one exception, during Bill Clinton’s first term, I’ve never had one.