I went on another tinder date yesterday. With a guy calling himself Angel Raw. With dragons around his name.
Dragons…
I had high hopes he was either a stripper or just somewhat wonderfully weird. (I know mum and dad would have LOVED if he was a stripper)
We met in Clapham, he took me to a cool bar and he is this super cute italian guy. Who is also a sober photographer who loves biking
WTF! How can there possible be two out there in the world and HOW the fuck to I manage to meet both of them? When he asked me if I liked biking with the comment ‘you only have to try’ to my negative answer i wanted to cry.
On the plus side is that he is planning to buy himself a serval cat – a cat the size of Woolly looking like a mini leopard. That is some serious good weirdness there.
But still, sober, so much for cute italian boys with dragons around their names.
The rest of the weekend was pretty slow going. On Friday i had a couple of drinks with work for my boss leaving drinks but headed home early because body just said no. I could literally hear my liver begging for mercy.
So i went home and forced cuddled my dog.
On Saturday i wriggled out of 3 different dates. When talking to dad he was like ‘3. But, you cant be seeing 3 guys at the same time. Is it like that speed dating’. Nope, its just the modern way of more is more.
And to be honest, not my thing, hence avoiding them.
All in all a good last weekend before shooting home for Christmas. Yes, ill have to live down the whole ‘oh, you are single’ and ‘when are you coming back to Sweden’ but at least ill have some energy for that shit this time around.
Letters to my family 