Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Musician with Lots of Ones, But No One-and-Only: freelance musician, 24, male, Fort Greene, straight. Commenters, put on your thinking caps and get ready to give some heartfelt advice!

DAY ONE
11:30 a.m.: Wake up, hung-over. Headache, stomachache. Attended a loft party in Williamsburg last night. Got hammered, chatted up some good-looking kids, went up to the roof and stared at the traffic gliding over the Williamsburg Bridge. Pretty standard, enjoyable, uneventful.
12:30 p.m.: Thinking about the ex. I’ve been single since spring 2007, when we called it quits, primarily due to the fact that she was still in school and I wasn’t, and there was just a mounting disconnect. We’re still very much in each other’s lives, despite the fact that neither of us knows in what capacity. I’m not entirely sure what I want.

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the 33-Year-Old Yearning for His First Real Relationship: male, screenwriter and graduate student, Bay Ridge, gay, single.

DAY ONE
7:31 p.m.: Wake up with morning wood that won't go away. Don't have time to take care of it. Get showered and ready for an appointment.
10 a.m.: In the waiting room, I ponder the fact that I have been single for fifteen years. I have never had a serious relationship. I hope one day I will make a viable connection with another gay man who is attracted to me. However, because I have been single and independent for so long, I am not sure how to let others in.
Noon: Go to Coney Island Beach. I see plenty of half-naked men, with their assets for the world to see. I get very aroused. I wish I were with a guy, and we could hold hands and just be together. But I am surrounded by only herds of heterosexuals that are able to display ample signs of affection. Not me, which is frustrating to say the least.

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Aspiring Cool Best Friend With Benefits: female, 25, producer, Hell’s Kitchen, straight, single.

DAY ONE
12:15 a.m.: Come home to my apartment with Pseudo Boyfriend. He’s my best friend of one year, best friend with benefits of six months. He recently said that he thinks I'm in love with him and he's not feeling that — he enjoys random hookups too much to settle down with anyone right now. I laughed it off — I've had my random hookups too! But I think he may be right.
12:20 a.m.: On my couch smoking and talking. We're a little buzzed from three drinks chugged at a too crowded club in midtown.
12:34 a.m.: My hand slips onto his thigh. A little playful poking turns into him getting me off with his fingers, me giving him a blow job. He seems winded afterward; tells me it was very good.
1:11 a.m.: Leaving, Pseudo says he doesn't want to see me for three days. He's got that hard-to-get asshole thing down pat, but he's also more fun to hook up with and better at it than any guy I've ever been with. Such is the appeal of the bad boy.

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Blissfully Engaged Web Guy: male, 27, corporate-Website producer, Park Slope, straight, recently engaged.

DAY ONE
7:20 a.m.: Roll out of bed with the usual morning stiffness. Stare at my fiancée’s perfectly toned body as the sun hits her exposed back. Tell myself how lucky I am that I have a fiancée who’s a dancer. The best decision I ever made was asking her to marry me. Hard to leave.
7:45 a.m.: Elevator with an attractive woman definitely wearing the same clothes she was in the night before. Ah, walk of shame.
12:08 p.m.: Daydreaming at work. Imagine what would have happened if I’d ravaged my fiancée this morning. Now have to stay at my desk unless I want my coworkers to see my excitement.

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Heartbroken Summer U.N. Intern: 20, female, heterosexual , Williamsburg.

DAY ONE
7:34 a.m.: My roommate leaves the apartment ridiculously early and wakes me up. I think of my now ex-boyfriend. Even though I'm basically having the ideal "living in the city" summer, any moment I sit, I get overcome by heart-wrenching … well, heartbreak. We broke up a month ago, just as the school year finished. I'm still hopelessly in love with him. I cry a little as I think about how he said my nickname and fight the urge to call him.
7:50 a.m.: Try to masturbate to make myself feel better. I can't get into it. This has been a common occurrence lately.
7:55 a.m.: Go back to sleep instead.
11 a.m.: Wake up to new text messages. One from my new bisexual friend whom I got drunk with last night, telling me that she just had the most amazing sex. Fuck. I hate living vicariously through people.

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Rehabbing Mailroom Worker in an Open Relationship: 35, male, Upper West Side, straight, in relationship.

DAY ONE
1 p.m. Obsessing about on-and-off girlfriend, Vanessa, who broke up with me a couple of days ago at an event with her sister. She's a single mom that I fell in love with at outpatient rehab, after leaving my music-industry job to get a handle on crack and Ecstasy. The drugs are no longer an issue, but the sex and rock and roll are in full swing.
8 p.m. I spent the entire day wondering how it all went so wrong. I love her, love her baby, and her family wants to kill her for seeing me. The baby's father is older than her own father, and she can't keep the straw out of her nose.

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Middle-School Teacher in an Open Relationship: Female, 25, Upper East Side, Straight.

DAY ONE
11:00 a.m.: Set dinner out with boyfriend for tomorrow. Though we’ve been dating for two years, cohabitation and marriage are still a ways off. I am enjoying weekends together, and amazing sex. And separate apartments.
1:07 p.m.: Quickly shut down middle schoolers’ discussion on ass slapping. Funny, but inappropriate for classroom. I had a similar ass-based conversation with own friends two weeks ago. Push aside feeling of hypocrisy.
3:40 p.m.: Meet friend, ostensibly for coffee, but in actuality, for monthly discussion of her boyfriend. Current problem: boyfriend’s proposal to move in together is unpalatable until boyfriend’s proposal of marriage occurs. Not being in the same place, relationship-wise, I inquire as to the non-tax, non-visa benefits of marriage.

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Two-Timing Substitute Teacher With the Porn-Addict Friend: 30, male, Brooklyn, heterosexual, single.

DAY ONE
12:30 a.m.: After drinks with friends, I find myself extremely aroused. I call up Chloe, my "girlfriend" who I've been off and on with for a while. We haven't had the "girlfriend-boyfriend" talk. I ask to come over. She agrees. The bus ride over gives me a lot of time to think about what I want to do. I am ready to star in my own porn.
1 a.m.: She is geared and ready. (When we first started dating, we would tear each other's clothes off. Then we hit a dry spell. Now sometimes she's freaky; other times she's a born-again Christian majoring in celibacy.) Despite vodka, I'm able to hold myself up with my arms and get going.
1:10 a.m.: Reality sets in. On my back and her doing all the work. She seems game.

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Potential Jehovah's Witness Co-ed: 21, female, Chelsea, straight, in relationship.

DAY ONE
1:10 a.m.: Boyfriend leaves to go back uptown. We've been dating for four months, but it just got serious. This is the most intense relationship I've been in yet, but we have a real strong emotional and mental bond, which makes leaving out the sex easier. Yes, folks, believe it or not, there are still celibate couples out there.
9:46 a.m.: Walk in horrendous storm to get crosstown to work. Consider hopping on the train and going uptown to snuggle in his warm bed.
5:40 p.m.: Boyfriend meets me at the music magazine where I work, and we walk to Lyfe Jennings listening session on Madison. Working definitely has the perks of special events.
12:33 a.m.: Make it uptown to snuggle and fall asleep talking about anything and everything. He's my best friend so it always feels good to finish the day off venting and speaking my mind to him.

Once a week, Daily Intel takes a peek at what your friends and neighbors are doing behind doors left slightly ajar. Today, the Possibly Cuckolded Wall Street Dad: 51, male, derivatives trader, financial district, straight, married.

DAY ONE
6:18 a.m.: Woke up with the little guy stretching himself out under the covers. Wife says I'm like an 18-year-old in the mornings. I always tell her she can be my "cougar," but we never get any early-morning dalliances. We have been together for eight years. I did not want to marry a second time, especially someone eleven years younger, so we lived together for three years, and the sex was great. Got married, and our sex life changed to zilch overnight. Wife out of town at a conference. Help little guy stretch to our mutual satisfaction.
7:02 a.m.: Drifting back to sleep.
7:12 a.m.: Youngest daughter (preschooler) of two, barking orders from living room. She is hungry and wants her shows on TV. Need to be out the door in 90 minutes for a Saturday gym class with youngest daughter.
9:30 a.m.: Gym class a playground for the dads. A few cute mothers and many hot young gymnastics instructors. Can't keep my eyes off the one with the tight gym pants and low cut T-shirt. I bet she likes to stretch.
12:30 p.m.: Take youngest daughter to quick lunch with one of my employees. She is very nice, but I can't even think about it, because she looks the same age as my other daughter, a middle schooler from the first marriage.
3 p.m.: : No word from wife. She goes to this conference every June for the last three years. Hmmm … a conference that starts on Tuesday and lasts through Sunday morning? Wife never wants to have sex anymore, but when we dated, she wanted it three times a day. I know she has a few male clients that appear to get very flirty in their e-mails to her —I do covertly check her e-mails once in a while. Did she deceive me about her appetite, or does she give it at the office?

8:30 p.m.: Wife calls from last night of conference to speak to daughters while I am trying to get them ready for bed. Someone keeps whispering to wife in background and I hear water splashing. I am told it is my imagination — she is in a spa getting treatments. Really? This time of night on the last night of a conference? I conclude she has a “same time next year” relationship with a conferencegoer.
10:30 p.m.: Retire to computer screen to check e-mail accounts (all five) but am sidetracked by Redtube. Laptop warms lap. Must stretch little guy. Place ad on Craigslist. Want to meet a married woman in same situation, a "dry" marriage.