Awesome first dates

#1

My first date with Mister Fire was perfect. I met him on Tinder, we had been chatting for almost two months before actually meeting. Why did it take so long? That's entirely my fault. He was so intensive, we talked a lot all the time. We made a few long phone calls and I noticed that he's way too dreamy for me. His perfect messages and stories freaked me out, so I made up all sorts of excuses not to meet him. In the end he sort of coached me into going out with him. He told me that he'd never met anyone like me and he won't let me go without at least seeing me first. There was a chance that it wouldn't work out, you know? We're both extremely picky. He said that a big part of his "falling for someone" is in her facial expressions, the way she smells, the way she moves and is around him. I just knew he would sweep me off my feet and I hated it. I felt unsure of myself and my body. I've never been on a date with anyone quite like that and I felt overwhelmed.

We met at the central railway station. He had his guitar with him. He looked really nice in his shorts and button-down shirt. I had packed my bag with picnic stuff, I brought a blanket and all sorts of delicious food. We walked to a huge park just south of the city center. It took us almost an hour to get there, because we stopped to talk a few times. And we got lost a few times as well, haha. But yeah, our first date was during the heat wave. We were both a bit sweaty when we found the perfect spot for our little picnic. As soon as we sat down he took off his shirt and I just sat there staring at him. I almost disliked him for that. What a show-off, that's not working on me, I thought. After a few minutes I forgot the fact that he was shirtless and could relax.

We laid there on the grass eating and drinking all kinds of delicious things. I was sunbathing in my skin-tight jeans and almost see-through top. He told me that he was really tired. He had worked a lot that week and he had been to a friend's birthday party the night before. I knew he would be tired, so I planned ahead. I brought a book. I laid there reading while he took a nap. 

What a weird first date, you say? I think it was just perfect. We were both so relaxed in each other's company that we could doze off and it was perfectly fine. He slept for ten minutes and when he woke up, he looked right into my eyes and kissed me. It felt like he'd been in my life forever, like he had kissed me a thousand times before. Very passionate.

Sparks were flying, fireworks, yada yada. I guess it was just a few steps from actually having sex in the park. Thank goodness there were people having picnics around us, so clothes stayed on. 

I was supposed to spend the night with my brother, so I had to leave. Our tram ride to the city was crazy. He leaned on me, had his hands on my back and butt and pulled me close to him. We said our goodbyes by the bus station. His kisses burned me, I couldn't get over the fact that he was there, acting like I'm the only girl in the world.

He didn't play his guitar. He said he was supposed to play me a ballad and charm me with his music but he couldn't keep his hands off me for the length of a song. No complaints here. I was actually a bit afraid that I'd hate his music, I was happy to experience the possible hatred a bit later. :D

Afterwards he said that our date was by far the best first date he'd been on. I fed him strawberries in the park. We totally hit it off. Our date felt at least four days too short. I just had to see him again. Soon.

And I did.

"Kiss me like you want to be loved."

#2

My almost-boyfriend makes my top three list easily. Maybe that is because our date wasn't meant to be a date.
He was my climbing instructor. I knew him through a friend and booked an hour with him in June. I had this awful fear of heights that I wanted to get rid of. After 45 minutes of climbing with him I knew he was different, we sort of clicked. I had to trust him with my life, that works really well on a "first date". We had loads of fun. I was all sweaty, my hands were shaking and I was leaning against the wall. He put his hands on my climbing harness, pulled me closer to him and kissed me.

You know the feeling when you feel really small? That's how I felt right before our first kiss. It felt like he lifted me up. He made me stronger and weaker simultaneously.

He asked me out for sushi and I said yes. Our date went on for 15 additional hours. Whoopsie.

#3

Mister Yellow.

There's a man I'm still not fully over. I spoke with him on the phone an hour ago (shop talk, I'm afraid) and can't stop thinking of him... Ah, he kills me softly.

Our first real date was freaking perfect.
I let him be in charge, as I always did. He picked me up on a Saturday morning. I had no idea where we were going. All I knew was that I was to wear a LBD and heels. We went to a little city 50 miles from my home. The city is known for its tiny boutiques and cafés, beautiful old houses and all sorts of cultural activities. We had lunch at a beautiful 18th century restaurant, which was open ONLY for us, went to a cello concert, went to a tiny chocolate factory to make our own chocolates, drank coffee in a closed coffee shop and had the perfect day. He opened doors for me and made me feel really special in every way. We had to leave the city early because I didn't get a doggie-sitter. We went home to walk my baby dog. We were supposed to leave for the movies, but I guess things escalated quite quickly and suddenly I realized I was unzipping his dress pants. We stayed in bed for 20 hours, got up only to answer the door for the pizza delivery guy.

Our first date ended at the local WWII museum. It was really quite strange that we went there... I had no idea he was a history buff and he didn't know that my family had just made a donation to the museum. The idea sort of sprung from a strange pillow talk subject about weird fantasies, but I won't tell you about it.

His wavy hair, green eyes, sly smile and perfect laugh makes me miss him even more.
I guess he's the one that got away.

"This feels like falling in love."

Summer of 2014, happiest time ever.

My story of the summer is a really colourful one.

During the last two months I've been on more than 40 dates. Some really sucky, but luckily most of them have been really lovely. I almost fell in love (thanks for ruining it, bro!), partied like crazy in the south, spent hours water fighting with the hottest guy I've ever seen, had a Tinder date in Stockholm, had a guy proposing to me twice at a club... I've also been on a summer festival without seeing a single band - and most of all, I haven't been home for a weekend since Easter. So yeah, Kitty's been a busy lady!

Now, where should I begin...

I took a quick beach holiday to the south with my brother for Midsummer. We didn't really make any plans, just wanted to party like crazy and see what happens. What a surprise, I met a few guys at a club. They were dancing like little maniacs and seemed to have the best night ever.. I kept looking at one of the guys across the dance floor. I smiled at him, he waved at me, bid me to come over. I went over, spoke English, asking him if they were having a bachelor party (because it sure looked that way!).. He answered something weird in a language that I couldn't understand - until I suddenly realized that it was my mother tongue in a weird accent. Hahaha. He took me by the hand and led me outside, to a huge terrace. We sat there for a few minutes, talking, when he started to read my palm. "Oh, I can see that you're about to have the best night ever.. You'll meet the man of your dreams. He's gorgeous, he's wearing a blue dress shirt, he has nice shoes and an expensive watch and he's an excellent kisser." And then he kissed me. We stayed there sitting on the couch on the terrace for two or three hours. I've never met anyone like that.
My brother came out looking for me. He saw what was going on and asked us to come inside and dance with him. The club had done a 180 in a few hours.. There was confetti flying in the air, all sorts of laser beams and glow sticks moving around. It was the best house party I've ever been to. We danced for a few hours (the bar was open 'til 6 a.m.) and then I told my brother goodbye. I left with the guy I just met. I never, ever, do that, but he felt different. He looked exactly like my Mister Yellow, had an accent like him and was just great. He and nine of his friends had rented a huge villa by the river. He took me there, when his friends were still partying at the club. We left early just to be alone for a few hours.
He undressed me in the foyer before he even closed the door. He was really great, for a second there I felt like we weren't having sex, it felt almost like we knew each other, like he had been my boyfriend for ever.. It was hands-down the best sex I had with a new guy.
I was still in my undies when his friends came back from the club. Making a hell of a noise, his roommate (yeah, he didn't have his own room at the villa) came up the stairs and saw us. We escaped his stupid questions, snuck out to the bathroom and finished what we were doing. I suggested that we have sex on the patio "I'll let your friends watch, maybe they'll learn a trick or two" but it was too cold outside at 5 a.m. During the four hours I spent with him, we had awesome sex three times. A moment I'll never forget: we were having sex in the bathroom, he was behind me, pulling my hair... We were in front of this huge mirror. He suddenly stopped what he was doing and said "Look how gorgeous we are. You look absolutely breathtaking when I'm inside you". Freaking unbelievable.

I wasn't about to stay the night there. Well, it was like 7 a.m. when I left the villa to walk back to the hotel. The natives were outside, walking their dogs in the park, when I walked past them with crazy hair, messy make-up and ripped tights. I can't remember what happened.. Something funny, I bet.

Oh, yeah. My brother told me off when I found my way back to our hotel room. He scolded me, said that I did it because he looked exactly like Mister Yellow, spoke like him, touched me like him... Mister Yellow and I hadn't spoken for 1,5 months when this happened. I guess I missed him.

Best party ever.

My best friend got married last Saturday.

The wedding was beautiful and the party was crazy. We had the best time ever, my single girlfriends and I was seated at the "friends" table, surrounded by cute single guys. I had never met the boys before. For some reason we had never been to the same parties, or better said, I had never been to any of my best friend's parties with her boyfriend's friends there. WHY?!

So, seated next to me was this funny, blonde guy. He was not really my type, he was as tall as I am, a.k.a. short, and he had a funny sort of way to talk to me. For some reason we started talking about weird dates and he told me about some Tinder date he'd been on. I showed him my Tinder profile and he was sold. He asked me if I'm a player, if I "use" guys to get things done. Noooo, that doesn't sound like me at all. I admitted that I write a blog and maybe get guys to assemble IKEA furniture for me, help me fix things around my flat and mend my car and computer when they break down. If that makes me a player, then maybe I am.
He was a bit odd, though. He told me that he never falls for anyone, because his heart was melt to stone by a few really bad relationships. Oh, if only you'd know my stories. Still he asked for my number. Before he left the party (I guess it was about 1 a.m., I've lost track of time), he called for me. I was dancing with a few friends. He pulled me away from them, dragged me to the foyer and kissed me. I just stood there not knowing what to say. My best friend came out from the loo, just stood there while we kissed, staring at us. I guess the sight was jaw-dropping. He and I have been in touch a lot afterwards. He seems really sweet.

I met another guy, a guy looking like Kit Harington, at the wedding. He sat at the same table, a few seats away. I guess I said something funny to him as he walked past me, because he kept smiling at me all night. We danced together, snuck outside to kiss in the forest and talked for hours. We spent the night together, sleeping in the same bed with one of my best friends. So nothing happened that night. We didn't sleep at all. He just kept kissing me, teasing me, until I got up.

Trust me ladies, he looks like this.

So, I got two sets of phone numbers that night. The guy looking like Kit was really dreamy and wanted to spend some serious time with me later. We made a date for Monday night. We met. I picked him up after work and we went to my place. Most of my friends probably don't want to hear this after meeting him on Saturday, but he is awesome in bed. I'm not the least bit surprised. He kissed me like crazy on Saturday night and Sunday morning, pulled my hair and bit my neck. I couldn't stop staring at his green eyes and curly hair. For some reason, I find him ridiculously good-looking. Especially when he's in bed with me, lying beside me, his curly hair all over my pillow, his grey-green eyes looking at me like I'm the only girl in the world.

I'm meeting him again. Some day soon.

Crushed, part II

I met my crush again yesterday. He came to my work. I looked terrible, smelled even worse and had an oversized dress on. No makeup, as always. 

He had an awful day and wanted me to cheer him up. 

We had the weirdest discussion, it lasted for over an hour. We kept telling each other funny stories about Tinder, odd dates and our single lives. We discussed relationships, sex, our mutual friends and and and and. The whole conversation just went sideways soooooo many times. He told me that he's a good boy, he claimed that I bring out the worst qualities in him. He tried to make me believe he's ordinary, like vanilla. That's why I named him Mister Vanilla.

I've never met anyone that flirty. Not ever. He's sort of crazy, but in a good way. We're so similar. I can't hide my crazy when I'm with him.

After I got home, I sent him a message on Facebook, apologizing for being so weird. He added me as a Facebook friend and we chatted for hours. I said good night to him at 1 a.m. He had to be at work at 7:30 today, I felt to sorry for keeping him up.

After chatting with him for a few minutes today, he asked me for drinks on Friday. My thoughts right now:

Fuck butterflies, I feel the whole zoo when I'm with him.

Oh, by the way, I asked my friend about Mister Vanilla. She told me that she'd never ever date him, because she met him when he was sort of, well, let's just say that he wasn't as hot as he is today. She predicted that Mister Vanilla and I have hooked up before Saturday. I'm dying to prove her wrong.

Summer-y stuff

I met this guy from another city a few days ago. I was out in his home city, in a pub, and the guy started talking to me. We totally clicked. I didn't get his phone number, and didn't give mine out either. My cousins and brother whisked me away from him. Total bummer. I actually forgot him when writing my post yesterday. Whoopsie.

... Until I found him on Tinder.
Now he's my Tinder match, we started talking yesterday. He lives 100 miles away, in the same city as Mister White and my brother. Turns out I'll be spending every other weekend in their home city, either partying with my cousins or meeting up with the cutest men I know. Most likely I'll be combining the two and loving every second of it. This guy surprised me instantly, he asked for my phone number (no surprise there), but he invited me to stay the weekend at his place. Why not. 

One of my best friends is getting married next weekend. No chance of me missing out on that fun, so I'll have to meet him in two weeks... Feels like such a long time. But I'll have loads of fun talking and WhatsApping with him until we meet.

I asked him "If you had 48 hours with me, how would you spend it?"
He answered me by giving me a list of activities:

Bike around the city and go for a picnic
Give me a tour of the city, showing me all his favourite places
Cuddle like crazy
Go for a jog
Play beach volley with his friends
See a movie
Sleep together, as close as it gets
Go skinny dipping in the middle of the night. If we're alone at the beach, who knows what might happen.

The best thing with him is that he has no idea about my desires or wants, and I won't share them with him until I'm in his arms. I have Mister Ink in my life to rock my world, this new guy could be a potential boyfriend. I say that about everyone new nowadays, and take it back in a few days.

Summer 2014, please be fucking beautiful.

Partying with my brother

My brother is my best friend. We spend hours on the phone every single day, unless I'm on a date, that is. I always call him back later. We talk about everything. He knows about my guys, he's seen Mister Ink (and sort of approved him, I guess), he tells all sorts of stories to people about my quest to find a decent guy and he challenges me to do fun stuff every time we're partying together.

This is us...

... but we're not the least bit romantic, tho. I haven't seen the last three seasons of HIMYM yet, so no spoilers, buddies.

He is the best wingman there is. Last time were out together my brother did something legendary. He signed both of us up for speed dating. It was one of the best nights ever, it was truly epic. I didn't find anyone interesting enough, no one whom I'd like to date, or even give my phone number to, but the whole event was really funny. I was miles outside my comfort zone, and my brother loved to watch me writhe in agony (the guys were complete idiots, by the way). The speed dating thingy didn't go well for either of us, so we went to the pub next door to unravel our minds. We sat there, told the cute bartender about our night, laughed at all the weirdos we've been on dates with and tried to make decent plans for the remainder of the night. 

Three tall and muscular sporty looking guys walked in. One of them caught my eye. He wasn't the tallest of the three, he had ashen hair, a really nice smile and he looked like a hockey player (yummy!) My brother challenged me again, said that I should go up to him and do my magic. I felt shy (which never happens) and my brother had to dare me - if I remember correctly, he threatened to lock me out of his flat if I don't have the guts to talk to the guy. My brother went to the loo and left me alone sitting by the bar. Some random guy came up to me, trying to have a conversation with me. I wasn't the least bit interested in him. It was exactly what I needed to boost me on! I approached the mysterious hockey player-looking guy, saying "My big brother dared me to come hit on you. I'm having the weirdest night ever, I participated in a speed dating event a few hours ago, and I got all these phone numbers from guys I don't want to call and and and and you're my type." Let's call him Mister White. 

I sat there for a few minutes talking to them before the guys asked my brother to join us and tell them all about our little speed dating experience. We entertained them really well, shared loads of laughs and had so much fun together. My hockey player-looking Mister White didn't seem to be that into me, so I forgot about him and chatted with his friends in stead. In fact, I found myself sharing a pizza with his best friend at 5 a.m. I didn't give my phone number to any of the guys and didn't ask for any either. 

Six weeks later, Mister White runs into my brother at the pub. His first questions to my brother were "Is your sister here with you? How is she? Can I have her phone number?" My brother is the best. He didn't give him my phone number before asking him what his intentions were - hahaha I still can't believe that he teased the guy! My brother texted me the following day, asking me if it is OK for him to give my phone number to Mister White. 

My response was something like this: ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?! Give it to him, you idiot.

So yeah, Mister White got my number, six weeks and five days after meeting me. 

We had the best night in another city yesterday. I was wearing a white mini dress and heels, and my hair was all curly and gorgeous. We were hanging out with three of our cousins, and had a blast. My cousins play hockey for a living, so we met up with tons of players during the night. My Saturday challenge was to find a pilot - check - and a professional hockey player - check, check, check, check. I didn't like any of the guys enough to actually hit on them. I found it entertaining to be at a club, walk around, checking out cute single guys, asking what they do for a living and if by chance I happen to find what I'm looking for, stay and talk for a while. 

Oh, and my 14 second rule has become a 4 second rule. I lost my brother and cousins at the club, turned around and boom there he was. This tall, blonde, pilot guy, telling me how nice I look.

Yeah, that was nice.

Welcome to my world

I love being single.

A friend of mine asked me three years ago what I fear the most. I feared being single, being left all alone. I used to think that being alone made me lonely, and it was the worst thing in the world. Being surrounded by the wrong people is much worse. After breaking up with Mister Grey I realized that I had been lonely in a relationship for quite a long time. Now that I was single, I felt a much deeper connection with loads of people. Some were old, some new. Some of them were rebound guys (especially Mister Black, now that I think of it), but most were just friends. Friends that I discovered after years of silence. That made me feel invincible.

I usually tell people that I've been single for 18 months now. It's not entirely a lie, since Mister Grey left me in January 2013. I don't count Mister Black as a boyfriend. He was just a huge black hole in my life, sucking all the energy out of me. I'm not saying that I was utterly unhappy with Mister Black, I wouldn't have stayed with him for 13 months if I hated him. He was a good friend, but a terrible, terrible boyfriend. The past few months have been the best time of my life, now that I'm rid of him.

Tinder has brought me a lot of fun. I don't use it much anymore, I get hit on almost every day without it. Yesterday, for example. I won't share any details, but I'll let you know that the guy was super cute. I wish I meet him again soon. If something happens, you'll be the first to know.

I receive dozens of funny messages every day. Most of them are pictures. Some of the funniest nude photos have been sent to me by random guys, sweet friends of mine. I just never saw them coming. There was this one Monday afternoon... I got nude photos from three separate guys, never asked for one. I almost had a car accident, when I checked my phone while driving (sorry, Mum). I also get a lot of videos, mostly from guys working out or doing something dirty, you don't want to know every detail. Most of my men are athletes, some of them work out for a living, so it's quite normal for them to share pictures or videos from work. 

I love the fact that I can do whatever I want, whenever I want, with whomever I want. I don't consider myself the least bit slutty, since I'm really picky in my men. 

Who said you could only have one lover at a time? My Mum for one, but I guess she's never experienced anything like this. I love being with my guys. But for some reason, not one of them has lit a wild spark in me. Before Mister Ink, that is. You'd think that I would develop a crush really easily, I thought so too, but I really don't. Nowadays I meet Mister Ink twice a week, a certain Mister (he's new) twice a week, and someone new once-twice a week. I have a date almost every day, and I love it. 

I saw Mister Ink two days ago, and I'm slowly falling out of the semi-crush that I had earlier. Sounds weird, doesn't it? My theory is that I'm too occupied with other guys in my head. If I'd concentrate on one guy, I'd most likely fall for him. Who knows, I'm not going to try. 

Crushed.

I think I have a crush. A serious crush on a man I met today.

I spent an hour with him and ummmmmm. I was wearing extremely tight yoga pants and an oversized tee, no makeup, my hair on a French braid and yeah... I could have been better-looking. Considering the location of our encounter, my outfit was appropriate, and considering his occupation, he's used to seeing girls wearing yoga pants. 

No, he is not my Personal Trainer.

He's really cute. Tall, tattooed and has a cute smile. Facebook tells me we have 7 friends in common - a few of them are really close to me. Why haven't they ever told me about him?

We hit it off. He told me stuff that normal guys don't tell me.. And for some reason, I told him loads of personal stuff too. He was the biggest flirt! For some reason, he didn't seem like an easy catch.. I'll have to work on this one. I love challenges!

Oh yeah, and at the end of our encounter he invited me to join his birthday party. I'm in! 

The party is in August, by the way. 

I like his way of thinking.

One of my quirky girlfriends knows the man I'm talking about. She knew we were going to meet up today, but didn't warn me about him! Oh, I wish she would have said something, I would have worn makeup or re-braided my hair. My girlfriend really needs to share all she knows about him. Why am I this curious?

I never, ever feel this way.
I wish I meet him again soon.

Oh, he sent me a message on Facebook.

Challenge accepted.

Edit: I named him Mister Vanilla.

Mister Silver: the bodybuilder who won't give up

So. I met this bodybuilder fellow at a bar one Saturday. He came up to me, asked me "Hi. Don't I know you? Are you Kitty?"

Wow, that has never happened to me before! Mister Silver (I'll explain the nickname in a bit) had seen my picture on the wall at my work, asked the girl at the reception if "Kitty's available" and my last name, so he could check out my pictures on Facebook. I figured he really liked my picture. 

During the night he told me that he wanted to leave with me, that he really needed to sleep with me, just sleep (yeah right), and he just wouldn't stop. I told him that I was out with my girlfriends, I'd leave with them. I gave him my number and hoped he'd call me later. 

He did.

Turns out we have a lot of acquaintances in common. Mister Silver is a bodybuilder with a jaw-dropping hot body, and he has a good heart, too. He's like this giant teddy bear you'll want to hug forever.

He really likes the same things that I do. After talking to him for a few hours, he said that I'm just like the girl he's always wanted to marry, he'd have to see me again soon. 

I never thought that much of him. Probably because he's ridiculously good-looking, I know that he has a ton of girls just waiting for him to ask them out. He asked me out like a million times before I agreed to meet him. I went to his place a Monday night after work. He cooked for me (Thai food, yummy!), we watched a few episodes of my favourite TV show (I had missed the last four episodes and was all broken about it) and slept together. He was ridiculously good at it. Brains-splattered-on-the-wall kind of good. He really liked watching me, especially my facial expressions, when he made love to me. During sex he told me I had the prettiest eyes he'd ever seen. Sure, I can believe that. :D 

We did it four or five times during the evening, and once before I left for work on Tuesday morning. Too much? Yeah, I think so too. He wanted to meet me for lunch, I lied and said that I have no breaks, Tuesdays are really busy days for me. 

Turns out he fell in love with me.

He won't stop calling me. He texts me three to five times a day, even if I don't answer him. At first he sent me selfies from the gym, showing off his giant muscles (he knows I LOVE bodybuilders) to cheer me up, casual "Hi"s, asking me how my day has been and asking me to meet him again soon. At first I really liked it. I was happy for the fact that someone missed me, was happy to see me.

Then it started to seriously annoy me. Every text from him pissed me off, especially the ones from the gym. He asked me to send him "pictures of the hot booty" (can't stop laughing) - well, I didn't send him anything, not even a quick "Hello".

I told him that I was ditching all my Misters, that I wasn't into having sexual relationships with guys anymore. That was true, there was a time where I just had enough. I just wanted to spend my evenings at home, alone, cooking or cleaning or doing whatever the hell I wanted. I stopped answering my Mister's calls, every single one of them, I wouldn't text them back, not even if they asked me a question. I just wanted to clear my head after all the shit that had happened with Mister Yellow and Mister Black. He understood me, or that's what I thought.

I've tried to break up with him quite a few times. He just doesn't get it. He doesn't understand that I put him in the exact same category as all my other sex buddies, I really don't give a fuck for him and don't really want to be in touch with him. For some reason, he thought that I meant to leave all those other guys just to be with him. He said that he's ready to step things up a bit, to take it to the next level, I'd be his and he'd be mine. How the hell did he get there? I said that I wasn't ready for a relationship, I had absolutely no wish to date a friend of a friend, not seriously, at least. 

Since he didn't understand to leave me alone, I asked him to be "just friends" in stead. He was super excited, said that he'd get sex from other girls, he just wanted to be with me. Hang out, do fun stuff (go rock climbing, hit the gym together, go paddling, yada yada. He made a list. Not kidding.), cuddle and eat together. He told me that he really wanted to sleep next to me, just as friends. Yeah, we'll see about that.

He sent me this picture on Whatsapp a few days ago.. Not sure what to think of it.

I'm freaking out again. I need some advice to dump a hot guy who's apparently never been dumped before. He has no idea of what "no" means, I guess he never hears that from girls.

Sigh.

//P.S. I call him Mister Silver because he's close to gold, but I don't want him.

May day, May day

I'm not a very shy girl - a quality that my friends often take advantage of. I'm challenged to do weird stuff almost daily. This is a story about my May day challenge.

International worker's day (also known as Labour Day here in Europe) is celebrated on May 1st. This year May 1st was a Thursday, and I took the Friday off. My dear friend Katy challenged me to pick up a guy at the airport, catch a flight with him and spend a few days in a strange city with a strange guy.

Well, here's how it all happened.

I left work early on Wednesday. I was at the airport at 1 p.m., looking around for sweet-looking guys. A flight to Barcelona was due to depart at 5 p.m. - another flight to Lisbon at 4 p.m. As I walked in, I decided to find myself on either flight - I wanted to spend my long weekend somewhere warm (because I packed my suitcase with sundresses, heels and a pair of polka-dotted bikinis). I saw this tall, muscular guy in Converse shoes. He was checking in, looking kind of distressed, not really getting the self-check-in automat. I approached him, asked him if he needed help and told him about Katy challenging me to do something this silly and spontaneous. He got really excited about my little dare and invited me to join him in his five-star hotel in Lisbon. So, I picked up my credit card, bought a trip to Lisbon to spend a long weekend with a guy I didn't know.

I selected him because he had cool shoes and a cute smile. And he was in his early thirties, with no engagement ring. He's now called Mister Tan.

Mister Tan had originally planned to visit Lisbon with two friends. They had separate rooms in a fancy-ass hotel in central Lisbon. I mean, the room was freaking fantastic. First night in Lisbon, I was wearing a cute little dress and high heels. We went to dinner with Mister Tan's friends. It was a cozy seafood restaurant, where the waiters spoke nothing but Portuguese. Luckily I studied Spanish in high school, so I had a slight clue on how to order meals and drinks. Things worked out really well. It was pleasantly warm in the evening, we got lost in the narrow alleys of Lisbon, drank a pitcher of sangria and went back to the hotel. Mister Tan was the cutest: I turned off the lights, climbed into bed with him and said good night. I heard him sigh and say "I... I don't really date, so I have no idea about these things... Am I supposed to kiss you or what?" I had no comeback, just tried not to laugh at his face. He kissed me on the mouth, really gently, and said good night.

We didn't see his friends for the rest of the trip. May day was spent at the beach. We were feeding each other strawberries, having a great time, chilling, drinking sangria and caipirinha, chatting away on mundane things, swimming in the Atlantic and whatnot. I really enjoyed my time with him. He never really touched me when we were outside our hotel room, but after Thursday, he was just sweet and gentle. It felt like he really cared for me, he made love to me so tenderly. I really liked his style. That went on for four more days, us having fun in the city, almost feeling like friends, and lovers in the night. Just the way I liked it. I had the best four days of my life with him.

The last day I felt a weird vibe between us. I asked him to tell me stories, and he didn't really have anything to share. That was, until he told me that he was building a house outside the metropolis that I live in. What guy builds his own house? I really didn't like to ask any more questions. I sincerely think that he is in a relationship. Not cool.

The flight home was really a pain in the butt. Since I bought my trip a lot after Mister Tan, I sat about ten rows behind him. I had no one to lean on, no shoulder to rest my head on. I slept for a maximum of two hours. My flight landed at 5 a.m. Phew.
Mister Red picked me up at the airport. He had worked all night and was really tired, yet anxious to see me. Well, he drove me home, pulled my hair and did his tricks on me, and left. I wasn't sure if I was angry at him or not - I mean, I was grateful for the ride home, but I was way too tired to have sex with him... I told him that, but he didn't listen to me - just pushed me to my bedroom, undressed me and worked his magic on me. I won't text him anymore. I guess.

My motto. Thanks, Barney.

So, this was my May day challenge. Can't wait what Midsummer brings...

Meow.

Girls' night out

Daymmmmmmm.

Saturday night. My girlfriends and I went out to dance. We spent a fabulous night in the city, just the three of us. I was on a roll, I had just experienced a perfect week with my favourite boys.

As you've probably understood, I'm not a shy girl. I'm really good at picking up guys. It runs in the family, my brother and cousins are male versions of me. I just make weird chit-chat with guys I meet. Sometimes I'm the one to initiate the conversation... But mostly I'm being hit on.

So, Saturday. We all looked fine. I started talking with three guys at a club. I was really into this one guy in a black tee, he was my type. His friends were decent-looking as well, if you know what I mean. One of them was a pilot. Sold. He showed me his Tinder profile, but I can't find him. Mister Pilot from Saturday, if you recognize yourself, send me a message, please. My girlfriends joined soon and we all had a blast. That is, until I lost them. I don't recall what I did to lose them, probably went to the loo or to buy a drink...
I was looking for them, when this tall blonde guy turned around and asked me if I was okay - I said no, I just lost my besties. He promised to entertain me until I found them. Well, he entertained me just fine - I woke up at his place five hours later. Oh my god, his flat was the dirtiest little hole I've ever seen. You should have seen his bathroom. I really didn't want to be barefooted in his shower. I don't usually pack flip-flops in my clutch. Maybe I should.

He was the nicest guy in his thirties, funny and kind of cute (although blondes are not really my thing). Apparently he works like 80 hours a week, because he's never home. I was starving, went to the fridge and found nothing. Not even ketchup. That was just odd. He had made all these weird plans about spending the day together. Yeah, no thanks. I got dressed, said bye and took the bus home. I guess I made up a lie about having a meeting or something.

I guess I gave him my number earlier, because he texted me on Sunday, asking how my day went. I was with Mister Orange, curled up in his lap in my undies. Well, I'm juuuuuust fine. Mister Orange was the perfect hangover company. He stroked my hair, fed me, entertained me and well, you know. I really like his style, he's seriously improving, although he's never been bad. Not even middle-class. Right now Mister Orange is in the definite top five.

Perfect for now.

Oh, and the guy in the black tee was married, or engaged. So that was it, then.

The adventurous Mister Red

So far we know that for some reason, men are attracted to me. We also know that it takes a maximum of 14 seconds for me to establish a weird connection with gorgeous men. Mister Red is one of them.

I call Mister Red my "Sunday man" - even to his face. I met him on a beautiful Sunday afternoon. I was wearing running tights and an ugly jacket, but so was he. I won't reveal the exact location of our encounter, since it would totally give me away. But let's say that I picked him up by saying something idiotic that resulted in a "Who's ya daddy"-kind of discussion, laughter and exchange of phone numbers. Kah-ching.

Mister Red is the boldest guy I've met so far. He spent a few years travelling in Central Asia and Kaukasus, doing odd jobs and even spent a few days in jail somewhere in Kazakstan. His stories stopped surprising me after a while, but they're still really funny. He tells me stories, I do my best to distract him (I play with his hair, kiss his neck and rub his shoulders) when he's talking. I disturb him because his stories are ridiculous (yet true) and simply because I have the power to do so. He's so easily distracted.

Mister Red is the male version of me. He has no interest in finding a relationship, he just wants to experience stuff with different people. I'm so lucky to be one of his girls. He's not really my type - even though he's dark, tall and gorgeous - but he sends out a weird vibe and I just have to have him. He's a bad boy, I'm a good girl. What's not to love?

Our WhatsApp discussions are soooo entertaining - we mostly send pictures of tigers and kittens to each other; he usually sends me a picture of his bed, captioned "I need you here. When do you get off work?"; make growling noises to each other on the phone (true story) and joke about next Sunday.

Oh yeah, I call him Tiger, he calls me Kitty. Surprise.

I know that he, too, has a blog somewhere, where he shares his adventures with women. He meets a lot of people in his job and sometimes women pick him up at work. I just find that fascinating. I'm not jealous, not one bit. I have my arsenal of Tinder men and random guys from bars, I can keep myself entertained if he misses a Sunday date.

Last Sunday he stated that he and I have something in common: people fall in love with us although we try to push them away. He said that he dumps a different girl almost once a week, mostly because she's fallen for him.
"Does that sound familiar?" -"Yeah."

We agreed that if either one has the slightest feeling of having a crush, we'd talk about it. That would result in not seeing each other again, which would be a total bummer. I really like this guy, so let's hope that no deeper feelings arise.

Kitty wants to play!

I like lists. But for some reason I have serious difficulties with placing Mister Red on my "Favourite guys" top10-list. We laugh a lot when we're together, have sex at least three times a night, he never stays over (I never sleep over at his place either) and everything is cool. There's just something about him that makes him "unlistable". I can't place him in a box.
But he's definitely in the top three of my favourite guys list when it comes to sex. I'm having serious trouble describing it. He just really knows what to do with me. He asked me about my fantasies, I shared them with him, and five minutes later he did exactly what I described (plus a little extra to surprise me). There's a mutual bond of trust between us.

He shared one of his secret fantasies with me.
Easter Sunday, please be here soon.

"I've met you somewhere, right?"

Tuesday.

I was out on a jog. I was running past a cute, tall and blonde guy. He waved at me, bid me to stop.

He said: "Hi. I've met you somewhere, right?"
I replied: "I've heard that one before. You're cute, want to go again?"
He laughed at me. We started talking. Turns out that I do know him from before. He plays football with my friends from high school. I've seen him play a dozen times, but I've never really paid him any attention. Why? He's chin-dropping gorgeous! Athletic build, a blonde beard (again with the beard!), light blue-green eyes and beautiful, wavy blonde hair.

I wiped the excess drool from my chin (metaphorically, I don't drool in real life) when he asked me to join him for dinner. We had so much fun. I didn't finish my plate before it got cold, I was talking so much.

He's my boy next door. He's sweet, polite, kind and always smiling when he's with me. I feel 16 years old when I'm with him. I can almost hear my Dad yelling at me when I'm kissing Mister Orange on my sofa. Oh yeah, I named him Mister Orange because he was wearing orange and brown striped socks when he came by. Sexy, I know.

I like him, but I find him a bit too polite sometimes. Feels like he has to ask permission to touch me. But when he does, it's just pure magic. He has big hands and he knows how to use them. My girlfriends keep asking me if we've done it already. Yeah, we have. Twice. He's extremely good at what he does. Brains-splattered-on-the-wall kind of good.

He's also definite boyfriend material, although I do know that he's dating a lot of other girls. But who am I to judge? I'm seeing 5-6 guys every week, a few of them twice a week.
Sorry, Mum.

My Mum doesn't know about all my adventures, thankfully. I've told her about Mister Orange and Mister Yellow. Mum is excited about Mister Orange, I guess she thinks I'm seeing him almost every day. I could, since he lives next door, but I'm a busy Kitty ;)

My newest 14 second catch: Meet Mister Brown

Saturday night in a new town.

I was out partying with my brother. I looked ah-freaking-mazing, I wore a little blue-and-white striped dress and heels. My brother was talking to the bartender, I turned right and saw a guy staring at me. He was totally checking me out from head to toe, and I didn't mind. He said "hi", I answered by giving him a Cheshire cat kind of smile and a quick "hello". He said that women usually don't smile that way when someone checks them out like that. I heard myself reply: "I know I am breathtaking, keep looking at me if you like what you see".
My 14 second rule never fails.

I ended up talking to him all night. He told me his darkest secrets and I didn't freak out. He has the cutest daughter. I know this because he showed me a ton of pictures of her. He's separated from the mother over a year ago, so I thought it was okay to even consider dating him. I really like him, he has the sweetest brown eyes. Therefore I'll name him Mister Brown.

I lost Mister Brown somewhere during the early hours of the morning. My iPhone had lost its battery (no surprise there, Tinder eats a lot of energy), so I had no way of calling him. Oh, and I didn't have his number either. I made sure that he got mine, I borrowed a pen from the bartender, wrote a dozen tiny notes with my name and number and filled his pockets with them. I saved my phone number and email address on his phone and wrote my phone number in ink on his forearm. Funny stuff, I guess I really liked him.

Sunday morning.

Mister Brown texted me. He asked me how I felt after meeting him last night. I was hyper, really excited to meet him. He told me that he felt the same way about me, but also that he has a girlfriend. He told me that she'd been just a rebound girl to him, they'd been dating for just over a year. Fuuuuuuuuck. I don't need this. I told him to stop texting me if he's in a relationship with someone else. He refused to stop texting or calling me. He told me that his girlfriend wasn't my problem, he'd deal with her.
I didn't tell him my full story, so he has no way of knowing that I was dumped for another girl. That kind of eats away at you, I would never do that to anyone. Not intentionally, anyway. He kept texting me, I stopped answering. He texts me at least once a week, asking me how I am... What's wrong with him?

Mister Brown texted me again today. He started by sending me that picture. "I need to meet you. Next week?", he said. I don't want to mess anyone's life up, I don't want to meddle in other people's relationships. Not my business. But I really like him. And he's drop-dead gorgeous: tall, dark, kind brown eyes and a rock-hard body. Even my brother showed thumbs-up when they met.

I'll think about it.

The story of Mister Black

Do you know the feeling when you really couldn't care less for someone, yet you still hang on to them?

That's the story of my life with Mister Black. He was my band-aid, my ultimate rebound guy.

Before I get properly started on my story about my life with Mister Black, let me share a few details of myself, the pretty little kitten writing this tiny blog.

I'm a normal girl in my twenties. I have a "real" job, working mostly nine to five. In my spare time I run around the neighbourhood in my hip-hugging black tights and hot pink sneakers and entertain my silly little friends. I wouldn't consider myself especially hot, but there's some weird quality in me that guys find attractive. If you know what the heck it is, let me know.

Later on you'll see that I'm a cold-hearted b*tch, but I wasn't born that way. I used to be "the girl next door".

I used to live with a guy, we'll call him Mister Grey. I stayed with him for way too many years, if you ask me. I met him when I was seventeen, moved in with him at nineteen and separated at twenty-four. If you ask me, I was a perfect, happy little housewife. I made him dinner every night, made sure that he was happy in every possible way. I never spent a night alone after my eighteenth birthday - that is, before I found myself sitting on the couch, telling him to leave our home in the foulest words possible. Weird, isn't it?
It really wasn't my decision to end the relationship, although it may sound that way at first. Mister Grey met a cute dark-haired girl at his company's Christmas party and found himself utterly unhappy with me. He made me miserable, it felt like hurting me was his only mission in life. He broke me into a thousand tiny bits and my heart was covered in bruises. I guess he wanted to push me away, to make sure that I leave him so he doesn't have to make all the hard decisions. This behaviour went on for about six or seven weeks. I lost count at the end. Before we broke up I cried every day and night, couldn't sleep and refused to eat.
After the break-up I was happy, almost delirious. I found myself smiling all the time. Wide smiles, in a Cheshire cat kind of way. It physically hurt my face to smile continuously for days. I guess I just wasn't used to feeling joyful after months of misery.

My friends were awesome. My bf took me clubbing on the first Friday of my new single life. I had never been single in a club before. It was funny, I guess I sent out a weird vibe because I had to push guys away from me. On that Friday my 14-second rule was invented. 14 seconds is generally the time that I'm alone at a club before I'm hit on by some random tall dude in a plaid button-up shirt.
On my first single Friday I did something I'd never done before. I brought a guy home. To our home. Wow, wasn't that odd. I won't even give that random guy his own colour, since I really don't give a damn about him, I don't even remember his name. He was from another town, a few hundred miles away. He fell in love with me instantly. I felt validated, some guy actually liked me for who I was, wanted to touch me and went through all kinds of trouble to pleasure me. Sex with him was awesome. My-brain-splattered-on-the-walls-awesome. I stuck around for a good four or five weeks. It was just another regular Thursday, he called me after work and wanted to tell me something. He told me that he was in love with me, and I freaked out. I broke up with him on the phone, because I couldn't care less to meet him. I told myself that he wasn't the right guy for me, because he never trained legs and it pissed me off.

That's where Mister Black stepped in. He was my Facebook friend, I met him when I was sixteen or seventeen. At sixteen or seventeen, I dated him a few times, until I found out that he slept with tens of chicks. I wasn't that into competing for his attention, so I simply quit seeing him. Somehow he remained in the far-left corner of my mind, I wouldn't delete him from my Facebook friends although I didn't see him for years. It was a Monday night, I had the worst cold ever, and wrote a Facebook post basically saying "I'm sick. Please someone entertain me, bring me food and I'll make it worth your while" and you know who answered - Mister Black, of course. He was funny, he felt like an adventure. I Whatsapped him for a good few days before actually meeting him. When I met him my heart caught fire. I just knew it, this was the guy I should be with, like, forever, or something. I had been single for five weeks when I went for a coffee with him. I met him almost every day, spent every waking moment looking at my phone, wishing he'd send me a message. A good five or six months later I changed my Facebook relationship status from "single" to "in a relationship" - and made it official. I experienced all sorts of stuff with him, we spent four weeks together roadtripping in the summer. Hands down, happiest time of my life.
Basically he was a good friend, but a lousy boyfriend. He couldn't handle money at all. In fact, he still owes me about £1000. He promised me stuff he couldn't keep and I ran to other men, asking for help. That made him ridiculously jealous and I seriously wanted to yell at him. But I didn't, I just turned cold and ignorant. He could spend a weekend without even texting me, even though we'd made plans to do something together. Every time he promised to do be with me, I made other plans "just in case", because I couldn't trust him one bit. I still feel that way about certain guys. I just don't trust them at all.
I dated him for 13 months. Way, way too long. Turns out he cheated on me on every possible occasion. I found that out when I went to his place to collect my stuff after arguing for a few hours on the phone. I stood there, emptying my drawer and packing my bags. I gave him an iPad for Christmas and had trouble deciding whether to take it or leave it, when his roommate suggested that I read his Facebook messages... I guess he wanted me to know something I should have seen coming for a while. I'm a kind of a daredevil, I read the messages and saw how things were. It's really funny how some things don't even surprise you. That's when I learned something about myself: I didn't really care for him. I wasn't hurt that he was somewhere fucking other girls (even though he still denies it), I was stone cold inside. I shrugged, packed my bags, said bye to Mister Black's roommate and disappeared. We broke up on Whatsapp. I didn't even call him.

The good thing with Mister Black was that he helped me get over Mister Grey. Mister Grey used to call me up on the phone, whining, asking me to get together with him.. I guess life with the black-haired chick didn't work out as planned. Too bad.

Mister Grey and Mister Black are still a part of my life, although I hate it. Mister Grey still owns half of the flat I call home, and Mister Black owes me a serious amount of money. And he has my kettle. I seriously want it back. I Whatsapped him about it today, and somehow he'd "forgotten" about it. Someone, please find him and punch him in the throat.

That's the story of my former life.