“

Seeing one good-looking young muscular guy is exciting, but seeing a thousand of them in fifteen minutes at Spring Break in Fort Lauderdale is too many for the mind to handle. Also, the beach air reeked of two smells I hate: beer and vomit.

“

She was in her flannel bathrobe, the one that makes her look like a fairy-tale princess. It was chilly when we first got into bed, but we warmed up quickly. I can still feel her arms around me, her hands massaging my back. I can definitely smell her on my fingers. Vaginas are such sweet places. . . We didn’t get out of bed till this afternoon.

“

I LOVED all the Crazy Rich Asians books!

“

Leaving the theater alone and driving down Biscayne Boulevard, I felt the way I used to back in the days when I dated Ronna in college and we’d go to movies on Saturday nights. I wished I had someone with me – even just an acquaintance – to go out for coffee with. Although it was late, I didn’t feel like sleeping.

“

Blair is 17, wears four earrings, is being published in his sister’s boyfriend’s Austin punk fanzine, and has been paid for sex. He began the letter “Dear Mr. Grayson,” and ended “Your friend, Blair.” I’m getting old, pardner. Last night one of my students handed in a paper on Jello Biafra and thought he had to explain to me who Jello Biafra was. “I know the Dead Kennedys,” I snapped defensively.

“

You can’t make anyone love you, and if you could, it wouldn’t be worth it. Still, getting dumped hurts. Yes, yes: intellectually, I know it could never have “worked out” with Sean, and like my breakups with Ronna and Shelli, this will prove a blessing in the long run. But right now I feel like crying.

“

After my talk, Tina, Susan and their friend David, a cute gay theater grad student, took me out for some fun food at Fanny’s Saloon, in Fort Pierce’s small downtown. There was good conversation and good potato skins, and I didn’t get back to my hotel room until after 11 PM.

“

I can’t believe it. Sean just left. Here he was in my apartment, the guy I’ve been fantasizing about. . . Okay: now I’m sure that Sean likes me. I told him I give my books only to people I really like. Damn it, I wish I could express myself better and I hope he can see in my eyes how I feel about him.