WHO IS THE CRAZY ONE?

Lovestruck. Absolutely, totally, almost comically lovestruck.
God knows (well, I know it, too) how many times I see men that I think are cute, sweet, have something about them, are fascinating, charming, sexy, handsome. When I lay my eyes on one of them, all sorts of thoughts get triggered. Not necessarily sexual, but the point is that my mind is generally losing itself in multiple scenarios, possibilities, dialogues, images, sensations, dreams.

ARE YOU ON THE PILL?

Such a simple question, and yet one that many men fail to ask, even when they are terrified at the idea of babies. In the last year I have been at the centre of two quite unpleasant situations, that left me both really baffled by how a person can reach adulthood remaining so immature.

THE CRAB MENTALITY

This post is going to be about friendship and the twisted mechanisms that push friends to discourage you and kill your enthusiasm and projects with their negative views. An acquaintance of mine (who whoever seems to be quite a faithful reader of this blog), has scolded me because I’m not being faithful to the name of my blog. “Where’s the sex? Where’s the dating?”, he complained.

SOMETIMES THEY COME BACK

For those of you who follow my Facebook page, or that know first hand about my dating misadventures, Potato Masher is not a new name.
The nickname comes from the fact that I met him by selling him… you guessed, a potato masher on Shpock, an app for second-hand stuff. Yes, my dating sources seem to be limitless, though the result is pretty much always the same.

“BECAUSE” SEEMS TO BE THE HARDEST WORD – Second Part

That Tuesday I’m on my way to dancing the night away when I receive his text, a very long one.
Yet, it only takes 3 lines to change my mood entirely. It’s like a big, dirty truck has stopped in front on my cute and colourful Mini Cooper, and offloaded a staggering amount of shit all over my car. With me inside.

“BECAUSE…” SEEMS TO BE THE HARDEST WORD – First Part

For my birthday a month ago, a friend of mine gave me a special treatment, something I had never tried before (oh, yes, there are still things I haven’t tried!) and that he judged was appropriate for the great period I was (am?) living.
Three months of backpacking in Asia have taught me a lot of things. About the world, about people and, above all, about myself. I came back with the clear realisation that I’m stronger than I think, more resourceful that I have ever imagined, and feeling so empowered about the whole experience where, for 80 days, I was the master of all my moods.

“BECAUSE…” SEEMS TO BE THE HARDEST WORD – Introduction

Here I am, feeling the need to write about what has happened to me in the past month, about a special encounter that, you guessed it, has died before having the chance to turn into something more meaningful.
This time, however, I realise I’m writing for a new reason.
I’ve just re-read the section “Why this blog”, where I explained why I wanted to open this blog and what pushes me to write. So far, my main motivations have been:

WHAT IS LOVE?

There is a big, full, bright, amazing moon over London tonight, and I feel a bit romantic.
Its peaceful, pale presence lulls my thoughts and takes them away from all the complications of modern dating. I shut my mind to issues like guys who ghost you, who send you completely unsolicited dick pics, who turn out to be first polyamorous, then pansexual, because bisexual is so 2014…

TO YOU, I WANNA SAY…

To you, who have perfectly organised your day ahead, juggling so many things in order to find time to see him, to then receive a dry text by him two hours before your date: “I can’t make it tonite”, without any apology, or a suggestion to reschedule it;

To you, who despite having sworn to yourself you were done with those apps, find yourself opening one because it’s just too hot, because the summer is approaching and it would be great to find a special someone to enjoy those balmy evenings with;

PINA COLADA

Ladies, lift your hands if you haven’t thought of how romantic it would be to meet the man of your life on a train, or on a boat. Or, given the globetrotters we all are by now, on a plane. Last year I went on a dating trip called “The love train”, where 100 single men and 100 single women were put on the same train leaving from King’s Cross Station and headed to York, in the hope that some love stories might blossom during the journey. Well, if they did, they blossomed for others (just for a change), so I have kind of abandoned idealising the train. But airplanes, well, they still retain their charme.