Breaking resolutions...

As detailed in a previous entry I had promised myself that 2012 would bring only liaisons with hot, sexy Frenchmen. There was to be no more Anglo boys entering my life..or bed...or vagina...you get the idea.

That resolution lasted about a month.

The night that I met Charles I had consumed 3 bottles of rosé wine with a friend. And of course, because I still haven't learnt my lesson about drinking on an empty stomach (even though I'm now in my mid-twenties) I was well on my way to being on the wrong side of merry.  Note to self: "Eating's cheating" was fine at age 20, now, it's just a downright stupid philosophy.

After the aforementioned wine I was far too drunk to care that I found myself in an Anglo bar. Yes, my snobby attitude had disappeared and, according to the pictures that I found on my phone the next day, I had had a great time talking to my fellow boozers in some tiny pub in the Marais whose name now deserts me. My memories are hazy but I remember one such fellow boozer as being a hot English guy in a suit who I had a drunken kiss with right in the middle of this tiny pub. Classy! The next thing I remember is him giving me  his name (Charles) and number on a piece of paper before he made a hasty exit.

After I had gotten over my hangover the next day I text Charles. His quick exit had left me wanting more and from what I remembered he was very attractive. We text back and forth for a few days, I was loving the British humor and so was very quick to agree to a date with him that weekend. He told me that he was relatively new to Paris so I suggested that we went to Chez Justine, one of my favourite restaurants ever! So on the Friday I got home, got myself dolled up and headed to the 11émé.

When I came out the metro station and met Charles I silently cursed my beer goggles. Charles wasn't bad looking but he was ever so slightly shorter than me (eek!) and was very baby faced. Even though I like my men tall I overlooked it, after all he had made the effort of wearing a suit and we were going to my favourite restaurant, things could have been a lot worse. As we walked towards the restaurant Charles asked me how my day had been. I told him about my day at work and mentioned how I had went to the gym after. That was when strike one happened. Charles actually stunned me into silence by actually saying out loud "Yeah, I really need to join a gym. At the moment I look like a Holocaust victim when I'm naked." Seriously, who says things like that?! Especially when on a FIRST DATE!!! Thankfully it was dark so I doubt he saw the look on my face. I told myself that perhaps he was just nervous and decided that I would ignore his faux pas.

Once seated inside the restaurant however, things went from bad to worse. In passing I mentioned that he had also been in a suit the last time I had met him when strike two happened. Charles informed me that he did not own a single pair of jeans and that he wore suits every single day, not for work, just because he wanted to. Not only did he wear suits but he often accompanied them with a fedora hat. BOOM! This was closely followed up by him talking about how much he just loved smoking. I try not to judge people on how they dress and if people want to smoke it's their choice but living your life like you are on the set of Mad Men is a little deluded. Predictably he also loved the music of Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin and scoffed when I told him that I like a little of everything,  aaaaand strike three!!!!

Over our (delicious!) meal the topic of age came up. Charles had implied to me that he had a very good job and so, the topics of education and work came up. Something wasn't quite adding up though until he admitted that he was a mere twenty years old and that his birthday had been one month before! His very good job was an internship! Strike four! Charles cheerfully asked me if this was a problem and even though I said no, there was no hiding the expression on my face. Now, I know, I know, 'age is only a number', blah, blah, blah but take that 5 year age gap and add a big dose of immaturity and then it becomes very relevant. The very final straw came however when Charles asked me what year I had graduated. When I told him 2008 he actually laughed and declared "Oh wow, that's the year I started!". BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!!!! Strike five! Thankfully he lived in the suburbs of Paris and had to catch the RER home (explanation for his quick exit the night we had met) so there was no time for post-dinner drinks. Very sweetly, he did try to pay for my meal but there was no way I could let that happen, he was practically still a child in my eyes!

As we said goodbye I silently praised the 'bisous' for giving me a polite goodbye without that awkward kiss avoidance. We exchanged a few more texts before I (truthfully) told Charles I didn't think we had much in common. My foray back into the world of Anglo boys had been a disaster. From now on I would stick to Frenchmen. 

Welcoming 2011 in Style!!!!

Picture the scene, New Years day 2011. After an immense party I was taking a break from the clean up effort from the night before. The guy who I had mildly fooled around with and shared a bed with was still asleep and those still feeling alive were dancing to ‘Empire State of Mind’ whilst drinking toffee vodka straight from the bottle.  After sweeping the floor I sat down and checked out my Facebook messages on my phone. Pretty much as soon as I logged in I received an unexpected message from someone I absolutely did not expect to hear from again.  Ahhhh Guillaume! Suddenly my impending hangover seemed very far away. We exchanged polite chat for a while before I somewhat boldly informed him that in my country it is very good luck to have sex on New Years day, of course it was a lie but it did the trick and we arranged a time for him to come to my place to ‘catch up’. I had to ask myself what it was about this guy that made me so quick to invite him into my home/bed/ummm…y’know…but I quickly pushed those thoughts away as remembered that:

a)      He was probably the best looking guy I had ever been with.

b)      He was like a well oiled machine that could go all night.

c)      He spoke dirty to me in the sexiest way imaginable.

I had to get home from the suburbs and fast! Luckily I got a ride and had just enough time to make myself presentable. However, when one has not had much sleep she does not look her best and does not feel particularly sexy, there was no way I was going to win a fight with a suspender belt when I was still half drunk yet I spruced myself up as well as I could and awaited Guillaume’s arrival.

When he finally arrived my legs felt like jelly and my heart was thumping. Damn, life would’ve been so much easier if he had become ugly since the last time I’d seen him but it was not meant to be. And to make it worse he was being sweet, funny and completely charming – this was nothing like our previous and very awkward coffee date. We chatted and caught up for a while until he interrupted me mid-sentence with a kiss that almost made me swoon. I did try to play it cool but the guy was such a great kisser that he could’ve had a degree in it. On shaky legs I went to close the shutters when he came up behind me and kissed my neck, of course he had to go for my weak spot and within minutes any resolve I had to play it cool went straight out the window. The next thing I knew I was pressed up against the wall in nothing but my underwear and G’s clothes were being removed at a rapid pace.

Since the last time I had seen G there had been others but none of them really compared, this guy was just sex on a stick and of course I loved it when he started saying things so filthy they would make a porn star blush. When he asked me if I had missed my big toy I was 100% honest when I replied that of course I had, the pleasure it gave me was unforgettable. G was very vocal during sex and not just verbally, I like that – it’s nice for a guy to show his appreciation and he definitely appreciated it when I told him ‘ma chatte est pour toi, do whatever you want with it.’ What a hussy, but he loved it!

It continued this way for the rest of the night, we fucked, we drank a bottle of cheap champagne I had in my fridge (and of course I found other uses for the champagne if you know what I mean ;) ) and we occasionally slept. I jokingly told him that his New Years resolution was to see me more but somehow I doubted that he took me seriously when I said it.

In the morning he left and I was unsure if I would ever see him again. I wasn’t too bothered though, 2011 had got off to a great start and I was determined that the rest of the year would follow suit!


PS! A male friend of mine was recently talking to a woman who said that she did not believe in wearing stockings and suspenders because she said they were 'cheesy'. Listen up ladies! Anyone who agrees with this statement needs to invest in some sexy underwear (including stockings and suspenders) and some killer heels and fast! Even if you just wear them to do the housework you will feel great! I just had to share that! ;)

New Year 2011, New Resolutions....New Adventures!!!

As 2010 drew to an end I was delighted to be waving goodbye to a totally crap year. I was determined to make  2011 a good one though and I was well on my way: my heart had gone from broken into tiny pieces to only slightly fractured, work was going well and I had fantastic friends. Aaaand to top it all off I had been invited to a New Years party in a large suburban apartment that promised to be full of hot Frenchmen! Tim, who invited me, is a friend who had studied at my university for a semester and we got back in contact again after I moved to Paris. Although he is a very very fine specimen of a man there has never ever been anything between us but friendship...but that didn't mean that I couldn't engage in a little more than friendship with one of his nice, handsome friends that I knew would be at the party. As I got ready (what to wear?!) I pondered my New Years resolutions:

• NO MORE BRITISH BOYS!!!! - I was in the land of les frogs and the most beautiful men in the world. The time had come to take advantage of that. Lets never go back to boring old burgers when surrounded by amazing steak!!!
• GO TO THE GYM 3-4 TIMES PER WEEK - Don't we all make this resolution at some point in our lives? I actually (for the most part) managed to keep this resolution even though I tend to go 2-3 times these days rather than 3-4.
• CUT OUT CHEESE - This was never going to happen! My vices in life? Cheese, shopping and Frenchmen. None are all that good for the body, mind or wallet but are perfect for short-term happiness.
• CUT DOWN TO ONE BOTTLE OF WINE PER WEEK - Again, never.going.to.happen!
• START A BLOG  - Enough said.

So off I ventured to the party with a bottle of champagne in one hand and various alcohol/petite fours in the other. I was a little early and when I arrived I was greeted by several familiar faces including Oli. Oli was a guy that I had only met a couple of times before. The first time I had ever met him I garbled away in Franglais for about 10minutes before I gave up and asked 'Do you speak English?' only for him to answer 'Yes' in the clearest, most perfect Americanized accent I had ever heard on a Frenchman. Oli was very attractive guy but he totally knew it and was just that little bit too arrogant for my liking.  Also present was 'D' who, like Tim, had studied at my university for a semester. We had once shared a very drunken kiss or 3 and had never been allowed to forget it.

Soon the party was in full swing. I tried not to show too much delight at the fact that out of around 30 of us there were 4 girls (myself included) and the other girls all had boyfriends. I drank champagne, ate escargots, danced and flirted lots with the many handsome  men present. After midnight things did not die down and I was very very drunk. I made a trip to the bathroom (once you pop, you cant stop right?!?!) and upon exiting I was accosted by Oli who had been waiting outside. The next thing I knew he was kissing me and walking me towards one of the bedrooms. This was a guy who knew what he wanted and would use all his charm to get it...but as I said, although he is very handsome I just wasn't that into him. After some slight groping where he tried his best to get into my pants I used the old safety-net question of  'Do you have a condom?'. He didn't but unlike all my other Frenchman encounters he didn't see it as a problem and tried his best to convince me to have sex with him without one. Studying in the US had obviously taught that guy some bad habits! 

As we continued this horizontal dance (with clothes on) of him trying to have his wicked way and me (mostly) rejecting his advances one of the other guys from the party burst into the room waving Olis phone about. One the phone was someone who he called 'baby' and who was told that he had been sleeping. Yep, of course this guy had a girlfriend.  I thanked my lucky stars for my near miss and rolled over and went to sleep. In the morning I left Oli the cad sleeping in bed while I went to join everyone else in the cleanup process. I had to ward off a million questions and laughter about what had happened but I was too hungover to care.

The party was a success. Yes, Oli was a bit of a bastard but I still had an amazing night and later that day I was happier than ever that nothing had happened between Oli and I us due to to a very unexpected text message....

Until next time!

Julien - Part 2

After the first date with Julien we continued to text and chat on Facebook, often his texts made no sense to me and I'm sure he would say the same about my garbled French, or Franglais as I more realistically refer to it. He was still pulling the old trick of asking me out at 10/11pm but I figured it  was no big deal, I didn't  really like him enough to care.

That was until I discovered that C was to be in town that weekend and although I wouldn't be seeing him I knew that he would be meeting up with the bitch/skank/whore that he cheated on me with. (Oops, feminism just went right out the window there!) I weighed up my options: stay in and obsessively look on his Facebook and that of his friends to see if I could find any clue of his and the skanks whereabouts OR I could get myself dressed up and go on a date of my own. The latter of course won. I was happy if a little surprised when I text Julien and asked if he was free to discover that he was. I told him that I wanted to go dancing and we arranged that I would go to his place before heading to a club. 

I made a big effort that night, low cut but not slutty dress, sleek hair and perfected make-up, sexy matching underwear and to top it all of, stockings and suspenders!!!! If you’ve never worn stockings teamed with a suspender belt then you absolutely must! I mean, ok, it can be tricky to get them on and you may scream with frustration a few times but once they are on you will feel so sexy and confident that it is SO worth it. Whenever I wear them on a date it's 60% for me and 40% for the guy...in fact, I've even been known to wear them under my skirt at work but hey, no one in the office needs to know about that! ;) 

Anyway, Julien certainly seemed to appreciate the effort made too. As I walked through his front door we kissed and his wandering hands soon found my little surprise. "vraiment jolie…would you not rather stay in tonight?", I didn't but I appreciated the  compliment. We drank wine and listened to The XX while Julien got himself together. He explained to me that his bank card had a crack in it but that if I paid the taxi then he would buy our drinks. We hopped in a taxi to my 1st but certainly not last time to Bus Palladium. So this was where all the cool and beautiful French people hung out!!! Rather head straight for the main room we went upstairs to the restaurant/bar and sat on tall stools. Julien ordered a glass of champagne for each of us and we actually had a good time talking and laughing. (He thought it was super hilarious to put his champagne glass between my cleavage, I didn't think it was so hilarious.) We finished our drinks and went down to the dance floor and I have to admit that Julien was a great dancer. We went to get another drink and then...uh oh...his card was declined. Luckily it was payday so I stepped up and bought the drinks. (Not a huge deal anyway, I like to pay my own way and he had bought the 1st round.) Maybe at this point the alarm bells should have been ringing but I was having too much of a good time to notice them. 

Shoulda, woulda , coulda.

The next thing that happened DID send those bells ringing. Two girls that Julien knew came over to say hello and there was only what I could describe as a weird tension between the three of them, it was clear that he had sex with one of the girls if not both. They were both pleasant enough to me though and I didn't really think too much of it until a short while later. We were dancing and I was aware that Julien was continuously looking over my shoulder. Yes, he was trying to make someone jealous! I should have walked away then but I never, my mistake. Soon after that I started to be aware of someone deliberately pushing into me on the dancefloor, yep, the two girls who had pleasant to me earlier were both acting like stupid brats. Julien, of course, seemed to think that the whole thing was funny and in an attempt not to turn around and punch them both in the face (and him too!) I stormed to the bar and ordered myself another champagne, not before shouting at him though "THAT IS NOT FUCKING COOL, SORT IT OUT!!!" Again, I probably should have taken that opportunity to walk away but I was drunk and really like the club. When Julien went for what was probably his 80th cigarette a guy with a massive camera came over and asked if he could take my photo for his  website, I awkwardly agreed, I don't really like being in those situations but hey, I liked the ego boost and it did wonders for my bad mood.

Julien was turning out to be a total dickhead but it didn't stop me from going home with him. Nor did it stop me from getting naked with him and bumping uglies. I was surprised to find that what he lacked in height he more than made up for in the trouser department however, I wasn't surprised to find that he was a very selfish lover. And I absolutely wasn’t surprised to find the ever present stash of condoms by his bed.

In the morning I reflected on what I had gained from meeting Julien: a larger than expected dent in my bank balance, a scene in a club which saw me go mental at someone and, a night of not so great sex. Yep, all too late the alarm bells rang clear. I left and thankfully, never saw Julien again.

Julien - Part One

So after the Didier disaster things really quietened down on the Frenchman front and it didn't help that my two main wing women both got boyfriends and were less inclined to prowl in bars with me. I was feeling sorry for myself and I was needy for some male attention. (Yes, I know exactly how pathetic that sounds but seriously, I was one more lonley Saturday night in away from stuffing my face with Ben&Jerrys and screetching the words to Celine Dions 'All By Myself'.) Then my dear friend K convinced me to join the dating site adopteunmec.com. Now I know what you are probably thinking because I was thinking the exact same thing..aren't dating sites for middle-ages, divorcees who are basically past it? But K told me about all the fun dates she had been on via this site and eventually I signed up myself to see what all the fuss was about.
I was pleasantly surprised, some of the guys on this website were seriously good looking! And after looking at some of the stupidly beautiful girls on the site I decided that maybe it wasn't just for desparados after all. I never actually spoke to anyone on it however, until a wine fuelled night with a friend where we giggled our way through the male profiles on show. (Interesting fact: My friend became in contact with her now boyfriend via that site that very night and they are now living happily ever after!).

Anyway, lets cut to the chase. There was one particullar guy on this site who contacted me and was hot, hot, hot. Floppy hair? Check. Designer stubble? Check. French?? Errr, check. Julien described himself as an artist and we gradually started messaging. His English was pretty bad, but hey, who am I to judge?! He asked for my facebook which I gave him and he would often 'like' one of my statuses or photos. I had the feeling that of course he was just after one thing, and when he would ask me for a drink at 10pm at night I would always say no. This continued for a few weeks until eventually I figured I may as well bite the bullet and go on a date with him.

When date night arrived I got myself ready and headed to the bar in the Buttes Chaumont parc. He chose the bar and I was pretty impressed that he didn't just go for somewhere at Bastille or Oberkampf. I text him when I arrived to find that he was already in the queue to enter the parc and into the bar. As I headed towards him I was feeling really nervous, I really hoped his pictures were representative. My worries were unfounded though, I spotted him in the crowd and he was just as he was in his photos and everything he had said on his profile seemed to be accurate until I actually reached him. Omg, he was tiny!!!! As I've mentioned before I am a little vertically challenged (or fun sized as I like to say!) and Julien was the same height as me. Lucky I had worn really small heels or it could have been really embarassing. His face was nice though and I really wanted to run my hands through his floppy hair. Once settled with our drinks (I asked for a glass of rose - he bought me a bottle.) we started talking and got to know each other. It was a mixture of my bad French and his bad English but I thought we were getting on pretty well until he exclaimed "Deux ans en Paree et tu n'ai parlez pas francais?! C'est un catastrophe!!!!'." All I could think was 'Easy tiger, I think there are worse things in life'. Anyway, after a bottle of wine I was pretty drunk. We danced, we kissed and I actually had a really good date.

At the end of the night it was pretty difficult to get a taxi so Julien suggested that I stay at his place 'just to sleep'. I was drunk and tired and knew that I shouldn't go home with him. Although I was having fun I thought that he was just a tad on the strange side but when does sense ever take over?

Once back at his appartment I was impressed by how nice and big it was. I thought artists were supposed to struggle?! However, it was really dirty and I don't just mean untidy I mean overflowing ashtrays and dirty dishes everywhere. I was too tired to care though and off we went to bed to sleep. Actually sleep with only the minimum of fooling around!

I left the next day feeling a little confused. I had a nice night and Julien was handsome but there was just something a little off about him. I agreed that I would see him again but it wasn't until our next date that I realised exactly how weird he was....