Musing

What I wish someone had told me about sex and desire, and what I’m trying to figure out how to tell my kid.

I’m drafting my thoughts on “the talk,” but first, I want yours.

I never delete. It feels like an act of self-destruction, a crime against my own history.

I want to hurt someone. Not because she wants me to, but because I do.

A man on a train, his phone, and two young women — and the complicated sympathy of a recovering creep.

On objectification, the confusion it causes me, and the unexpected clarity that domination provides — and then takes away.

Sometimes N goes quiet while the other guy gets busy living. Here’s a chart to prove it.

I’m dominant, sure. But really, I’m just a four-year-old who’s big enough to take what he wants — and would prefer not even to have to ask.

Facebook and Tinder have teamed up to deny me the right to exist anonymously in their ecosystem, and I’m annoyed — even if my dance card is, at the moment, full.