AlRIGHT already. Here is my sad story. I have to confess it to get my karma back on the right track.

Shortly after Officemate's accident (and no one has heard about her recovery yet), I met Alex through Friendster, the newest stupid net thing.

Things we have in common:

• Liking and disliking David Foster Wallace

• Camel Lights

• Tanqueray

• Unemployment

• Various peeps we know

One night, after drinks, we watched Donnie Darko. Donnie Darko, by the way, is the same movie I watched with Hemmy a few seasons back. It would seem that Donnie Darko is my hook-up movie, no? Because that is what happened. We hooked up in a big way, and I had to rifle through my box of Simpsons talking playsets for the box of Trojans I hid there. I hadn't used them since Matt the Cop.

I later have an agreement for Alex to watch my children while I do my road trip. The last thing I say to him?

"PLEASE don't have sex in my bed. And if you lie, I'll find out." You see, Alex has 5 different girlfriends (and quite a few funny stories about them), and I now know why.

Skip to 2 days ago.

Anthony has just showered, and looks atop my makeshift book case. It's a big wire baker's rack on which I keep my 6-slot CD player and my books I no longer read. And wouldn't you know it, there's an open Trojan wrapper.

"Damn that Alex, I TOLD him not to have sex here, and HE DID!"

I seriously am angry because I really do believe it's evidence of Alex being bad while I was out. But it wasn't until today that I remembered... We used 2, not just 1.

Fuck.

And I remembered his offhand compliment that he said when we were done, him laughing on my livingroom carpet. He was all naked, and glowy in the light of the Donnie Darko DVD menu, looping on the TV endlessly.

"Why are you laughing? Was I that bad?" I ask? I don't mind, I was hammered. I can't be expected to be at peak performance.

"No. That was the best sex I ever had with a condom."

Well, thank you, Alex.

And while I was talking to him on the phone today, Boss called to tell me he thinks my newfound resolutions are a mushy bunch of pish posh. ("I really am going to be a good girl, Boss.") Even warned me he'd be testing its resiliency on Wednesday, after golf.

He wants to show me nude pictures of his wife.