2012

At the Liberty Inn, everyone you pass in the hall knows exactly what you just did — and there’s something liberating about that.

Checking into an hourly hotel is a strange act of mutual acknowledgment.

Some things are best worked out in private, even by a guy with a sex blog.

French theorists on her reading list, no panties under her skirt, and an invitation to Miami before the jazz even started.

The line between privacy and secrecy is thinner than any of us would like to believe, especially when you’re a parent.

Life isn’t fair, my grandmother reminded me. In this dissolute life, I’d rather it be interesting.

I didn’t know she was famous until I saw her picture in the newspaper.

Not looking at beauty made me think about it far more than looking at it ever did.

A little homework assignment for my date.

L’s husband is having second thoughts, and I’m at sixes and sevens.