While I had so many thoughts about French dating customs, and how I should act, I could hardly parse out my ideas before my date with Mr. Cupid once I realized that the real dilemma was what to wear. I tore apart my closet, feeling every outfit was too cliché. Jeans made me look too American; all black was like I was trying too hard to be French. A dress said I was trying to look older, but a pink top screamed young and girly (it must be said the Mr. Cupid is in his early 30s, which he clearly sees as a big age difference; I don’t). I settled on a stretchy but not too-tight plain navy dress with 3/4 sleeves, oxford heels, a black blazer, and a few gold necklaces.
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Dating in the workplace can be tricky … Keep reading »
I have one dating rule: if you don’t kiss by the second date, you’re just friends.
Problem is, this will not be applicable in Paris because the French have no dating rules. And not “no rules” in that oh come on, everyone knows you can’t call him way. We’re talking “no rules” in that no one in Paris dates; therefore, no one knows how to date. It’s true—there is no word for “dating” in French. They don’t even employ the English word with an accent like they do for “business” or “cool.”
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I still remember the confused look on my date’s face as I self-consciously blurted out, apropos of nothing, “I’ve just lost seven pounds on Weight Watchers and I intend to lose 15 more!”
With that I stifled a burp, plunked down my pint glass and realized that we (meaning, he) had been talking about his band, not my tummy bulge. But who could blame me? Weight Watchers assigns each food a points value and you’re only allowed a certain amount each day. I’d been hoarding all of mine for our date. (Beer is three points a bottle!) I was a little woozy.
But not too woozy to note that I’d become that most embarrassing of daters — the oversharer. Keep reading »
Today, Glamour blogger Shallon Lester brings to our attention a widespread problem plaguing our menfolk: guys seem to really dig crazy chicks. Yes Shallon, I have noticed this, too. But in the post, she gives only a few half-hearted explanations: “Personally, I think guys secretly like the drama. Maybe it makes them feel alive or brings some action to their otherwise dull lives. Or, perhaps it reminds them of the chaos of their own family life as a child (wow, how Dr. Phil am I today?) Or, they could just be weak guys who like being dominated and repressed.” [Glamour]
After the jump, five more theories on why guys seem to loooove crazy women. Keep reading »
I’m feeling a bit disappointed at the moment. OKCupid guy just canceled. Normally, I’d shrug this kind of thing off; it happened all the time to me in New York. But a few days ago I realized how great it would be to have a French boyfriend. (I actually have this reverse fantasy of being in a relationship with one and getting into fights, him yelling in French and me in English. Followed by post-argument sex, bien sûr.) That night I had met up with a girlfriend from college who has been living here with a Parisian boy for the past few years. Her French is now impeccable. Becoming fluent is one of my top goals for the year, and hearing her talk made me face the unfortunate reality that my French is good, but, um, not that good.
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In episode 11 of “MERRIme.com,” after dinner with Mac and his boyfriend Christian, Merri realizes that Drew is just a “friend” and Patrick is much, much more. Has that happened to you before? Where you’ve woken up one day and realized you had feelings for someone you never thought you would? Keep reading »
Perhaps you’ve noticed the absence of my column, “Sex & the Show Me State,” here at The Frisky over the last few months. Or maybe you haven’t. For the sake of my ego, I don’t really want to know. What you may want to know, however, is why I’ve been absent. The simple answer is that it’s really hard to write a column about sex when you’re not having any. The more complicated answer—though, admittedly, an easier cop-out—is that my city is to blame. Keep reading »
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In the first episode of “Entourage” this season, Turtle, a frumpy-but-lovable goofball, is utterly confused by the premise of “Knocked Up.” He can think of no possible rationale for beautiful Katherine Heigl’s character taking dumpy Seth Rogen’s character home and becoming impregnated with his baby.
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