Several entries have dealt with nudity around other people. I'm pretty comfortable with it. Not as a nudist, but just relaxed about the times when it's a comfort thing. I have a good friend who, on his first date with a woman he would later marry, told her he'd be more comfortable with her naked. Not sexually, but openly. Nudity is not sexuality.

A lot of my entries, you may have noticed, have their origins in my teenage and college years. No real surprise since that's when I was sexually very active. I'd discovered a new toy - several of them, actually - and like any kid with a new toy went overboard in a major way. Not my ass (At some point I'll talk about losing my virginity, which happened at a New Years Even party. I was fifteen if the mental calculations are correct. That and the following Summer with the local pool lifeguard definitely teed me up for an adventurous sex life. Well, until marriage.) (Mostly joking.) As anyone who reads this column regularly knows, I'm in the middle of a major weight-loss and fitness shift. Down 45 pounds, but I've hit a plateau that has been hanging on for months now. I'll take it, but am looking forward to losing another 45 before I'm satisfied. And one of the driving motivations is that I want my ass back. You read that right. I want my as...