I think J in Portland was the one telling me about this crazy tech guy she dated who believed in biological theories of attraction between men and women. As a rule, I am pretty skeptical about those theories (they reek of quasi bio-anthropological quack), but I do remember that one of the things he said is that people who are compatible smell very good to each other. Something about pheromones? Anyway, maybe he was onto something, 'cause N smelled REALLY good, which was totally illogical given that he’d just been sweating it out in east coast humidity playing soccer before we met up at the bar. Later, I kept saying (and this was probably annoying but I couldn’t get over it) that he tasted like mangoes. I didn’t turn on the AC the whole time because I completely forgot/was preoccupied by the time we got up to my room, and we fucked in a very sweaty tangle of sheets. His back was slick. I apologized in the morning but he said, it’s cool, there’s something kind of hot about sweaty sex, and I agree. Later, in the afternoon, I tried to take a nap, but failed because my mind was running 100 mph thinking about the whole thing, and the fact that all my sheets and pillows still smelled faintly like him after didn’t exactly help. I took a shower and changed the sheets and then my own shampoo scent took over and that was better. I remember looking at the mirror before going out and thinking, fuck my lip chewing habit, my lips look whack as fuck. I looked at the mirror again the next morning and they were a really lovely shade of red, like pomegranates or lip stain, that I want to imprint in my memory. Before he left he used the bathroom and while he was there I took the opportunity to throw on this green linen smock thing I usually lounge around the house in, didn’t bother putting on underwear. He came back to throw on some clothes and get his stuff. I remember looking up at him very blearily before he leaned over and kissed me goodbye. It was probably a pretty picture. I should invest in more chapstick. . Only in NYC can the train drivers passive aggressively send out canned elevator voice “it is dangerous to hold the doors open at the station” messages 10 seconds after the conductor had to yell at someone over the speakers in her real voice (twice!!) for doing precisely that. If that person had been in my car I would have gotten up and pushed them out. New York's getting soft. . things i will do this weekend: - yoga. i've gotten off my routine and my body is feEling it - darkroom. closet lab is all set up, i got my negatives developed, i just gotta do it now. i'm excited to get into the flow of it, also see how my prints from the portland trip turn out. also some negs from 2 years ago in hawaii i never developed - find my prints from the months i spent in korea where tf did they go - pack for asia and related errands - read commie book club book oops fully have not and we are meeting on sunday and it was my pick lmao - spend time alone not on my computer. i'm all socialized out and yet another friend is coming to stay next week, mental prep is necessary