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More like I tried to do it, but the story just kept going nowhere. I came back from a work trip and she was gone." "She's back home," Mom said. And it also got me to thinking about the endless criticism I get for not fleshing out my female characters enough–a criticism, granted, that was more muted with The Bar and Grill, bit is valid nonetheless. Come to think of it, she did want pretty much the same things. She looked a little puffier than I remembered, maybe fifteen pounds heavier. Nevertheless, my old man always seemed to say it best. " Now that my salary was topping three hundred grand a year, I decided to work to live. I'd be working my ass off on my college major, though. (You'd be amazed how many salesmen are English majors; I mean, other than teach, what the hell else do you do with an English degree? I'd loved it in high school and college, but never had the time for it with marriage and work taking all of my energies. I must say, the starchy, carb-intense Midwestern diet didn't seem to be agreeing with her. Also, I'd only been working so hard to make ends meet and to give Kristin what I thought she'd wanted to be happy. It had a certain adventurous panache that appealed to me. After long thought–at least the time it took me to drink two margaritas–I settled on a course of action. I'd work my ass off and go somewhere new, start fresh. All of you, these characters are going to grow as the story goes forward, so please keep an eye out for that. Truth be told, though, my marriage was dead five years before the paperwork was signed, sealed, and filed with the Clerk of the Court. "West Palm," she said, her pale blue eyes sparkling. Palm trees, beaches, warm sun." "No snow." She smiled, one of those thousand-watt smiles showing her perfectly straight, sparking white teeth and the cute little dimples on her cheeks. "A great job, baby," she said, leaning in for a tight hug before attacking me with her lips and tongue. " "You could help is what you could do," I yelled, surprised at my sudden frustration. I'll be back when I'm back." That first stay had lasted nearly a month. When I offered to take some time and fly up to see her and our families, she just ignored me, so I didn't.

Just that Kristin was back home and living with them." "What're you gonna do about it, boy? She definitely had the I-fucking-hate-you glare, though. Kristin sought four grand a month for three years and then it would be reviewed; I sought no alimony at all. Well, there was no time better than the present, and it seemed the perfect way to get my mind off my life. Most people spend the day of their divorce getting drunk or trying to get laid, but I spent the rest of the afternoon in my apartment trying to come up with story ideas.

These include the simultaneous development of more democratic and diverse sexual communities, and sexual work and sexually violent work; movements beyond the exploiter/exploited dichotomy; complex relations of non-exploitative and sexual exploitation, commercialisation of sex, and enforcement of dominant sexual practices; blurring of the social, sexual–social, sexual and sexually violent, and of the sexually ‘real’ and sexually ‘representational’; closer association of sex with the ‘visual’ and the ‘representational’; increasing domination of the virtual as the mode(l) for non-virtual, proximate sociality, and possible impacts of the virtual on increased non-virtual, proximate sociality, even greater possibilities for ‘pure relationships’; shifts in sexual space and sexual place; development of new forms of transnational sexual citizenship, within shifting transpatriarchies.

Contradictions between the scale of global material sex economies and the representation and reproduction of the sexual through ICTs appear to be increasing.

When I wasn't flying out two or three weeks a month, I was working seventy hours a week trying to line up new contacts and future sales. Of course, Kristin grumbled, but that always led to a whole new series of issues. She was happy at home with her four children and her husband breaking his back to keep her happy. Looking back on it, with my head finally out of my ass, I see now that I really missed my chance to save our marriage then.

"I wanna go home for a few weeks," she said as I packed my suitcase for a trip to Vegas.

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