Category Archives: Unsolicited advice
All the love except eros
I’m not going to say the word. The V word. The one that’ll have half of you clicking away and the other half vomiting copiously onto the carpet.
But what I am going to do is write about non-sexual love. The love that I usually ignore here in favour of hot sex or wanking or – very occasionally – posts about men who give me that warm feeling in my chest.
Other kinds of love are often neglected – it’s the topic of one of my favourite posts over at BishUK: more than one love. He talks about everything and everyone we love but we never send cards to or buy roses for. Friends, family, community – the people who support and inspire and care for us.
How to get over heartbreak
Start with a super-sad song. One you’ve played over and over before, but never fully wept to. Put it on loudly and sit somewhere you usually don’t. The carpet. The bath. The filthy kitchen floor.
Then, grab something comforting. Chocolate, biscuits, wine, all of the above. Consume them while staring blankly into space, imagining that somewhere someone else is doing the same. Feel the weight and pain of all the shattering hearts that exist on the same planet.
Cry.
Two things: awesome sex ed and shitting on shitbags
Today I am frantic with work, and about to collapse in a pile on the floor. Please forgive me if I’m slow to get back to you or if your kind offer of a pint or a chat is met with just an incoherent scream of terror.
BUT I refuse to collapse properly before I’ve done a Monday blog. So here goes – a brilliant thing, and something that’s annoyed me…
Weird sex dreams: what do they mean?
This blog post is going to contain some sexual references that are bizarre, offensive and downright troubling, including incest and bestiality.
Point one: people who tell you in detail about their dreams are generally pretty boring.
Point two: because of this, people who tell you about their dreams are usually intensely apologetic about it. The conversation normally begins “I know it’s annoying to talk about dreams but…”
That ‘but’ is pretty important, because it usually means ‘but I want to get something off my chest/need you to make me feel better/am worried that I am horribly abnormal because of this odd thing that kicked off in my brain.’
So. While I have very low tolerance for people who tell me that last night they flew to a castle made of marshmallows and Eamonn Holmes gave them a spoon with which to eat it, when people want to tell me their weird sex dreams, I am usually all ears. Why? Because I have weird sex dreams too.
Diary extract: Utterly exhausting love
Sometimes I wonder if I’ve learned anything since I was at school, when I used to fall madly in love with any guy who showed a vague interest, before desperately wishing I knew how to act on it.
Then I remember how it was, and that being young was difficult, stressful, and quite, quite absurd.
I haven’t arranged a guest blog for this week – sorry about that. In lieu, please enjoy this extract from my own diary, circa 1998. In it, I am trying to explain the complex emotional dynamic in my group of slightly nerdy, oh-so-romantic friends.