I barely felt anything about breaking up with Mr. Cupid until a few days ago. Being back to my old life was great. No more obligations in the evening. Nights slept in my own (much prettier) bed. No more stressing about whatever next “surprise” Cupid would do, that would scare me into thinking his next… More »
My only other relationship with a French guy was a short-lived fling towards the end of my junior year abroad in Paris. Knowing I was leaving soon, we started off light and casual, but a month into things he broke it off. We met up late (as usual) for a drink when he told me,… More »
A few days ago, I became convinced that Mr. C had gone on a date with another woman and lied to cover it up. The evidence:
The morning of the incident, he had logged in to OK Cupid. It had previously been almost two weeks since he had.
He kept changing our plans, sort of… More »
I can’t believe I have somehow gotten a guy to cook me dinner in my own home, I thought, smiling at Mr. C as he dodged about awkwardly in my petite cuisine looking for knives, having insisted on coming to chez moi to let me relax while he made a meal.
When we… More »
Third date with Mr. Cupid. We were sitting in a bar in Belleville, where I had dragged him to my friend’s spoken word song night. (Yeah. I know. Long story.) But it was there, scrunched in between boho expatriates and enduring the sounds of bad slam poetry, that we kissed. A quick peck initiated by… More »
Yesterday, I met a man in the street and let him touch me. I let him take his hands to my body and caress and rub me all over.
Not like that, you perverts. … More »
“I can’t believe it … you’re in Paris for two weeks and you already have a boyfriend,” my sister said on the phone to me last night. She was exaggerating, for sure.
“Oh Jesus, hardly. We haven’t even kissed.”
It’s true, Mr. Cupid and I had our second date this week, and there… More »
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… More »
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… More »
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… More »
My first week in Paris is coming to a close, and, generally, I’m feeling super positive about things. My apartment could not be more perfect. It’s incredible teeny, but has two windows overlooking the Seine (eeee!), and at night the tourist boats pass by, illuminating the entire room for a few seconds with their lights. More »
I can’t believe I leave for Paris tomorrow. I haven’t slept in two nights. I’m so wired. The past week has been a complete whirlwind. Between packing, last-minute doctor appointments, and taking care of arrival details, I’ve also been organizing tons of goodbyes. I’ve lived in New York City for most of my life (I… More »
Nothing spells quarter-life crisis more than turning your world upside down to move to France without much thought as to how it will affect your career, happiness, relationships, or bank account.
I am about to turn 24 in a few days. And a few days after that, I’m packing up my life into… More »