Musing

I try to find the words, and fail.

Everyone’s got their thing. Mine just doesn’t involve balloons, plushies, or marrying a roller coaster.

Ice, wax, and a splayed 20-something — and then a pause to reckon with everything that means.

I’m unnervingly talented at engineering the rejection I claim to fear most.

The encounters all read the same, but they don’t feel the same. That’s a writing problem, not a living problem.

An odd confession for a sex blogger: the sex is the least interesting part.

I could have been Christian Gray, but my sexual awakening and my retirement from suits arrived at the same time.

I was ashamed of the wrong things, and I lied without knowing I was lying.

Don Draper and I are both cheaters, but that’s about where the similarity ends.

A handy guide.