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Sexy beast

I’ve discovered a flaw in my sex contest.

It’s a kind of failure along the lines of “if a tree falls in a forest and nobody hears it, does it make a sound?”

My neighbor has sex at night. I prefer sex during the day (twilight is my favorite.) If she can’t hear me besting her recent performances, am I really winning?

Which brings me to this: do I really want my neighbors to hear me having sex? Is it more important for me to have sex that I believe to be superior to the sex my downstairs neighbor is having? Or do I want her to know that I know what she’s up to, and that Terence and I are better?

I’ve been laughing at myself for being so goal- and trophy-oriented. I mean, if in the end all that happens is that I have a lot of sex, isn’t that its own victory? Why must I always prevail?

I know we won’t be able to win in the noise category. There is simply no way Terence will ever scream and moan loudly the way the guy downstairs does. Just last night, we were treated to his“Ooooooh... yesssssssss” over and over again. Since we didn’t hear so much as a peep from our actual neighbor, Terence and I concluded that she was giving him a blowjob.

Terence doesn’t like to have sex if the window’s open, if the shades are tilted the wrong way, if he can hear someone outside. Ideally, our bedroom (or whatever room we’d be having sex in) would be a sort of isolation chamber with no outside world creeping in. I’m a little less fussy about noise and lighting; get me in the right mood and wild horses, earthquakes, fires, skipping cds don’t even register.

So the tally as I see it for Thursday is this:

Me and Terence: 1.5 (oral quickie in the morning for me, full intercourse in the afternoon)

Noisy Neighbor: .5 (sounded to me like only one person was serviced)

I’d say they were trounced. Of course, they’ve got a headstart, so we’re going to have to make up for lost time. And I’ve only just started adding up the scores! Maybe once the month of May is over, I’ll design a snazzy little scorecard and drop it in the neighbor’s mailbox.

In other, far less prurient news, Terence and I each had meetings today. Meetings that hopefully will turn in to some work that will turn into some cold, hard cash. We are both broker than broke (broke!) again. We were going to go camping for my birthday, but now it looks like we can’t even afford a few nights in a tent in the desert. Joshua Tree isn’t going anywhere so I’m not really that bummed, plus I’ve been there before. If I were headed someplace fabulous, it’d be a different story. My birthday’s next week, and there’s still plenty of time for things to turn around, go crazy, or get worse.

Tonight we’ve been invited to Harriet’s for dinner and a 6 Feet Under marathon. A nice way to kick off the weekend.

5:11 p.m. - 2003-05-02



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