Sometimes we forget what we've got, who we are, or who we are not

I am not especially secretive about my participation in such things as craigslist or adam4adam, and I was about to say "in my quest for sex" except my whole point for thinking about writing this is about how that idea is a misnomer and that's precisely what I like about the whole thing. Most of these areas are large amounts of men who almost want to have sex -- it's a constant cost-benefit analysis game, and I've realized that I pretty much come down on the side of everything costs way more than it benefits, so I go to those sites still because one, occasionally I do have actual date dates, not just anonymous fcks, and two, I am somewhat fascinated by the community of desire and pseudo-desperation about how far out of reach it can be, how committed to ideas and how short reality frequently falls. This is not everyone, of course, some people do just fine with committing to romps and enjoying every moment of it, but this isn't about them, this is about me and others like me how thought we are that way but fall just short in awkward ways we are trying to name and figure out. But the third reason I go to those sites is for the free porn. And I don't mean the pictures of naked men or cock, though those are certainly prevalent (and appreciated), but I mean the words, the stories, the requests, the barest sketch of who the person is and what they want and how to fill in those gaps.

( um, I'm going to talk about sex here in an overshare way....is there a non-overshare way to talk about sex? anyway.... )

I started reading Against Love by Laura Kipnis, because I saw it randomly in the library and keetbabe has mentioned it because someone had recommended it to her, and surprisingly, so far, I don't hate it. I even like it. I think because of her embracing (and defining) of the term polemic in introducing the book. Because like a good manifesto, I'm all about it, but there has to be a certain understanding about the place it serves in a dialogue/society. I'm reading a denser theory book right now, but sometimes my brain can't handle it (I have to read nearly every page twice, sometimes three times in that book) so I like having a lighter book on hand to satisfy other reading needs. And now I'm thinking about a metaphor connecting books in my life to ideas of lovers in my life. And how sometimes I want several at once but really I maybe do better with one at a time. Except for when I don't. And that's okay.