So my kick back into the sack has been especially interesting.

I took a 2-month long break from sex. My longest so far. To be fair, though, I had quite a busy month right before the break, so it all balances itself out.

I went to a conference for work, telling my friend that bedroom activities were the farthest thing from my mind at the moment. He responded that every time I tell him that, I end up bringing back a crazy story.

Don’t want to divulge all the details, but I have to say that it started with swapping the game rules in Never Have I Ever. Penalty kisses instead of penalty shots.

I’ve never really minded losing in that game, anyway.


Closed For Repairs

April 3, 2011

Last night, I went home at a reasonable hour, and alone (by choice). Driving back in the taxi through the shiny, empty streets reminded me why I fell in love with this city in the first place.

There are some cities with a bourgeois feel to them. They are closed off, unwelcoming to strangers, and are especially conducive to monotonous routines.

This city is the opposite. The streets are wide. The buildings are big. The people are welcoming. When it’s sunny, the light is everywhere. When it’s raining, there’s nowhere to hide. I remember the first time I came here. My friend and I flew in and took the metro directly into the gay district. No hotel that night: we just wanted to feel the life here. I remember walking out of the metro into the small plaza, and it was love at first sight.

I think I’m closing down for repairs. I need to concentrate on this city. On art and literature and the language. On annuities and on overhead costs. I will still continue writing on les theory, but I want to scale down on the practice. Cheers!


Updates: Grad School

February 3, 2011

My love life is going nowhere. I’m in #1 les city in the world, and I have absolutely zero desire to date, meet women, go to gay bars or hang out with homo friends of my friends. What happened to me?

Why are les girls so into restroom “fun”? Restaurant bathrooms, bar toilets, British loos and Spanish baños… They do it everywhere.

It’s still quite simple in straight bars, but getting more difficult in gay ones as everyone is onto you. The bouncer interrupted me getting acquainted with a girl in the biggest gay bar in Miraflores District. However, there was a dark lounge on the second floor that worked just as well, so not a big loss there.

Anyway. We are so used to the fact that a bathroom is a safe, women-only space, that using it to do something more private comes naturally. I don’t have to try to figure out whose home – mine or hers, consider the possibility that her mom’s awake or that my roommates have friends over. There are no awkward morning-afters. No walks of shame through the campus. We met – I like you – women’s room? I totally understand the cheerleaders in this 2005 story.

Let’s not confuse this with cruising. I really do want to have a conversation before you’re sticking your tongue down my throat. But after we have that conversation, I like that you like Hemingway, you like that I like Dostoevski, and I think you’re awesome, can we have a quickie right now please? Kthxbai.


November 16, 2010

I wrote to my Euro girls last night. One of them is the girl from the city I’m going to. CityGirl is genuinely nice and thoughtful. Besides offering her help at finding a place to stay in and showing me around, she also wrote, “I’ll introduce you to my les-friends and they can help you too”. I hate using words like “sweet” and “nice” because they tend to be generic, but they really do apply in this case.

Then I have a DanishGirl who is a year younger, and she sounds excited at the prospect of me being in Europe soon. I am, too! And she ends her message with the words, “Are you happy? Is life treating you well?”

Really, it is right now. I am moving to where I’ve always wanted to live, and I get to see my friends in the process. Amazing.

Una… treinta

July 26, 2010

With the tradition of my Sunday Scandalous post, I’d like to inform you that I recently had sex with an Argentinian. On a rooftop of a posh gay bar in Buenos Aires. In plain air.

Contrary to what you may think after reading my blog, I have not slept with dozens of people. I have, however, kissed quite a few. Here is the list of nationalities that I’ve kissed… because the actual list of people would be impossible to come up with.

United States
30 in total. Hope I didn’t miss anyone!

Gay, Not Pregnant

July 18, 2010

This week I got very sick and saw many doctors.

The doctors were nice, if a little slow. I had to go through this exchange at least once with each one:

-Are you pregnant?

-No, I’m not.

-What kind of birth control do you use?

-None, don’t really need any, thank you.

-Are you sexually active?


-Umm okay, when was your last period?

-Two months ago.

-OMG you’re having a baby!

I’m not pregnant, I’m gay! I’m my own birth control, thank you. And if my periods are irregular – that is normal too for a lot of women (esp.those my height & weight). Just please accept that I’m not having a baby and let’s move on to fixing that fever I have, shall we?


April 25, 2010