There's, of course, poetry

Plus, watch me tell a story about sex parties and hearing loss!

Beauty makes me hopeless. I don’t care why anymore. I just want to get away. When I look at the city of Paris I long to wrap my legs around it. When I watch you dancing there is a heartless immensity like a sailor in a dead calm sea. Desires as round as peaches bloom in me all night, I no longer gather what falls.—Anne Carson

Storytelling Event

I’m telling a story on Saturday, December 12, for Bawdy Storytelling (7pm PST. $10! JOIN IN.)

I’ve written before about being bad at sex parties, and part of that has to do with social anxiety and how quickly you’re expected to go from stranger to fucking.

But the biggest reason I’m “bad” at sex parties, the one I don’t really talk or write much about, is because I can’t hear people. Deafness isolates. You can’t make small talk, let alone negotiate a sex scene, if you can only hear every 4th word the other person is saying.

(Well, you can try, and I certainly have, but it leads to a lot of confusion, frustration, and unnecessary laundry.)

But inste…