E outra vez o amor.... sempre ele aliás!

Acho mesmo que vale a pena ler:

Martin Wilson

"When you spend your days asking people what advice they'd give their 18-year-old selves, some themes keep coming up: save money, cherish family, lose the mullet. But eventually everyone ends up talking about love. We all want to be good at it, but no one wants to accept advice about it. I'll admit I've ignored guidance and stuffed up. At 18, I was rubbish at love. I drove a poo-brown Volvo, thought seduction was a double Bundy and coke and used lines like "Someone change the alphabet so ‘U' and ‘I' can get together." Seriously.

But after almost a year of interviewing people who have lived a "love life less ordinary", there are three tips on love I can pass on with confidence:

1. Aussie blokes do talk about love. While writing What I Wish I Knew at Eighteen, I discovered it's a myth that men don't open up. But we don't do it easily or quickly. Men need more conversational "foreplay" than women. Marching up to a man and saying, "We need to talk about our relationship" is like a 16-year-old boy grabbing your boob on the first date.

Here's the key: men love doing. So, make or fix something, or go somewhere together. Bond before talking. Woo him into conversation the same way you'd like to be seduced into bed. (Or go a quickie.)

For years the only time I'd open up was when doing stand-up. Most would say talking about love is positive, but that does not include when you're in front of 400 drunken people in a comedy club. Sure-fire methods for patching things up with your wife do not include asking her to a gig then letting rip on some stupid fight about her needing 27 different types of jojoba body wash in the shower.

2. Thank the wankers. Don't waste time with grudges or pouring acid on his Beemer. Thank the cheating mongrel you caught having a threesome with your sister and best friend, be grateful to the nerd who spent more on Xbox games than he did on you, and toast the jerk who you cried over, swigging vodka in your bedroom alone, singing I Will Survive, till 4am.

I've learnt that the losers and dickheads who walk all over you are the people who make you realise you've found the right one when they come along - so thank them with all your (broken) heart.

3. Don't just love the bits you love. Libby Evans-Illedge, a cancer survivor I once interviewed, said,"You can't just love bits of someone. It has to be warts and all." So when your bloke comes home at 3am reeking of bourbon and wakes you up with wet flowers from the local servo, don't just tolerate it, love him for it. Just like I've learned to love the 27 bottles of body milk.

The main lesson I've learned about love is that if you want to do it well, learn from those who already do. I'm still an idiot, but at least now I know I'm hopeless and I have some idea of what to do to improve. Anyone want a poo-brown Volvo?"

"So when your bloke comes home at 3am reeking of bourbon and wakes you up with wet flowers from the local servo, don't just tolerate it, love him for it"

Se em vez de bourbon, for a bela da jola, também serve????