So I met a girl, a young woman named Carrie. It was a couple of weeks ago and I was drunk, but not too drunk, and we were in the same social group at a place with dancing. We danced and kissed and I got her number and I went ahead and called her. Turns out she was even better than I remembered.

I had originally called her out of principle, but what I'd thought would be guilty thai food turned into a sexy sleepover. We've been meeting up twice a week since then. Assignations, but not without a good amount of romance and openness. That's what makes trysting with someone so excellent, so worthwhile.

I decided the best thing was to be totally honest about my situation. I told her up front that I wasn't going to be around very long, but that I'd like to see her again. She sounded dissappointed -- a downward turned, "oh" -- but wanted to go out anyway, so we made a date. Who knew.

It's been a real good thing, and it's gotten me thinking about myself and my own life in a way that I haven't done in well over a year.

A little history. After Sasha, I threw myself into politics. I remember the cheezy moment after our breakup where I stuck the "Vote Dean" pin on my bag. It was that clear. I'd just met the MFA kids when it happened, things were just getting started, so I made a leap. I sublimated. It wasn't 100% successful, but I got on with my life.

It took me a long time, more than six months of separation in addition to closure-sex to really get over her. Since then I've been in and out of bed with a few different women, not a bad thing, but nothing ever really clicked; emotionally, intellectually, or physically. The last pure good time I had with a girl was last New Years, getting the bhuddist makeout cure from Arielle (an old friend of Julia's from LA) in New York City. I've known her for a while, and she's always treated me exceptionally, lifted me up on more than one occasion. I owe her.

Anyway, since then, and especially as the election ramped up, bed-type things have been distracted, hectic, furtive, clandestine. My latest trip to New York after the election I took a quick cuddle with a half-Norwiegan/half-Greek actress from Canada -- Greta -- which was great, and reminded me that I was an attractive person with a lot to offer.

But this stuff with Carrie has been on the next level. It's been told to me by people I trust that I don't seem to do good things for myself, that I don't enjoy life enough. Well, I'm enjoying a torrid affair at the moment, and I feel very good about it. Please, be happy for me.

Getting back to it, this liaison has led, like I said, to some interesting opening ups on my part. For instance, I've suddenly started contemplating my long-term future. I talked to Luke a little bit ago, because I think he and I see eye to eye on eventually wanting to start families. That's a 20-year period of stability we're talking about undertaking. Not to be scoffed at.

He's all about the 35 to 55, a very academic answer, puts the settling period off for some time, though even taking that into account you've got to have met the woman by the time you're 32. I don't know if I'm that far off from zeroing in. I'm more with Frank in that if the right thing comes along I'll think about settling down. The massive energy savings from ceasing to chase tail are worth it, and the novelty of casual sex is more or less gone.

However, there remain some extremely nagging questions about what that all means. I think it means I'm getting close to being personally ready for partnership. However, looking at my life history, I don't know that I'm strongly inclined to monogamy. This disappoints me. I'd like to be Prince Charming, but I don't think that I am. At the same time, we don't live in a feudal class-segregated society -- which is what's required to be a prince, with or without the charming -- so I don't think it's the end of the world.

Seriously though, all the women I've ever been seriously interested in, I've never been 100% true to one of them. I don't think that makes it impossible, but I think it's something that I aught not to blithely ignore. While it's true that my own cheating has always come at the very beginning or end of a relationship, never interrupting the sweet spot of being in love, never breaking a spoken promise, it does reflect something.

It makes me wonder if there's a way to get more of what I want out of life without trying to cram my interests into one of these narrow identities society sets forth. it also makes me wonder if I just have to meet the right girl to tame me, to eliminate any thought of Others. Methinks that's awfully romantic, and realistically that I've got to want to be tamed for it to have half a chance.

Anyway, it all pertains. Regardless of the fact that I have the most sexual experience of my housemates, I'm not an incurable man-slut. I still shoot for the moon, it's just that this means different things at different times. Carrie's awakened whole parts of me that were totally dormant. It's been tingly and awkward at points, like a leg asleep, but oh so good once the ball gets rolling. I hope to keep up spending time with here while it's possible.

In the big picture, who knows where I'm headed. The open road, ok? I get the general sense that I'm not ready to settle down for a while yet, but that I'm really interested also in being real with people. Why bother otherwise, I say. That means openness, but it also means responsibility.

Much to think on.

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The Principle At Work: If You Take Her Number, You Must Call
If a prospective romantic partner gives you her phone number, and you accept it, you should call. This is part of being a man. It is accepting responsibility for the fact that this woman has invited you into her life. If you had to work for the number and she seemed to give it grudgingly, you can decide to make an exception; but in reality, you shouldn't ever work to get a phone number. There's no point in pushing it, in asking more than once. You should give her a chance to get to know you first -- e.g. don't jump the gun and ask right away -- but once you've done that, if she's willing to give you her number, she'll give it. And if you ask, and she gives it, you have to call her. If you don't, it's you hoarding five minutes of your life for a phone call while someone spends at least twice that amount of time wondering if/when you'll call.

This is part of a larger generalized principle which is about "not cutting off communications without explaining why." A principle I've at times failed to live up to, as most people do when it comes to larger generalized things. The overrarching is harder not to cross, but the point stands.

A Word On Euphemisms
I'll use purposefully vague terminology when describing my love life from time to time because describing the actual particulars is sometimes not something I'm particularly comfortable with. I'm not really into writing pornography, though I'd really like to, at some point, frankly discuss issues of sexuality. I feel the need to do so from some distance and without the knowledge that my mother will see it for certain, and possibly comment publicly.