I’m very excited to announce that Matador has started its very own travel-writing school, MatadorU. Already featured on Soma, Mashable, The Guardian, and Daily Candy, this 12-week program teaches the ins and outs of travel writing for the new generation, including how to write for the web and the most efficient ways to promote your work. And for a short time, the course is being offered for only $225, after which it will return to its normal price of $300. If you are tired of your desk job and want to break into writing, this course will teach you everything (and more) that I’ve learned as co-editor of Brave New Traveler, editor of this website, and even going beyond travel to publications such as Healthier Talk, Cream Soda, and Conscious Dancer.

Last week, this was my status on Facebook: Why do I feel so guilty when I don’t talk to the men I don’t want to talk to? I was simply airing my angst at having gone back and forth with a slightly, no, fairly pushy man I had met a couple of weeks before. When he first talked to me in a cafe (where I spend the majority of my life), I was writing a piece that had to be finished in the next couple of hours. I pleasantly answered his questions, while constantly averting my eyes back down to my computer and starting to type once again. He then asked if I mountain biked, and I said no. “Hike?” Yes. “Well, let’s do the number exchange thing and we can go hiking.” Ummm, was that a question? Have I given any indication that I’m interested in hanging out?

WARNING: Adult themes presented, and discretion is advised.

During the time I was a professional Dominatrix, male sexuality–something that was already quite familiar to me–was revealed to me in ways that I previously thought would be surprising. In the end, a pervert is a pervert. The way men behave when they’re focused on their own arousal varies little. The dented, battle-scarred perv who traveled all over the country visiting pro-Dommes reacted just the same way to having the heels of my boots gouge his bare nipples as did the nearly virginal mummification freak who got off on sensory deprivation when I pinched his nose shut.