When I travel, I become someone else. Perhaps it’s closer to who I really am. Who I strive to be at home. Regardless, I feel freer. I do things I may not do at home. I pack my life with as many moments as possible. Each one escalated. Playing in HD. Essentially, I live on more whims.
I went to Italy in October. Pasta, sun, history, wine and men. Inevitably men. I don’t know why more single women don’t flock to Italy for a burst of attention. While I was in Italy on my first mother-daughter trip, I knew there would be distractions of testosterone. Around every brick corner, under each archway, and on a variety of bar stools. The Italian stallion is no myth. Read more