Musing

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?

Two flavors of shame — and neither is better, neither is harder.

I imagined, for just a nanosecond, outing myself as non-monogamous to a table of straight professionals. The moment passed.

The getting feels better than the having — and that realization explains more about me than I’m entirely comfortable with.

A partial catalog of things I like, and a clue to my name.