Musing

My brain would rather be anywhere but here — planning dinner, rehearsing catastrophes, fantasizing — as if the present moment were the one place it can’t bear to stay.

At the holidays, the marital bed gets crowded — and not in the fun way.

I don’t love the words, but I sure love the act. A meditation on the inadequacy of language.

I eat your pussy because I’m hungry, not because I’m generous.

The massage parlor offers certainty. The bar offers something better, but almost certainly not.

Two principles I try to remember: it’s almost always more useful to ask what *we* did than what *you* did, and more useful to think about what *I* can change than what *you* should.

Forget the quizzes — if your gut says something’s wrong, it is. Here’s what I actually find useful instead.

Misogynist lyrics, rape porn, Robin Thicke, and the difference between censoring desire and changing culture.

Pre-teen girls taught me a new word at dinner. I like it. I’m thirsty.

How many of us are more than one person online, and why isn’t anyone studying this?