joi, 14 februarie 2013

How to be a fake Valentine

Remember the last time I was telling you guys that I don’t really feel like dating again and that it pisses me off to think about letting a new guy come into my life again? Well, guess what? Nothing changed. Still the same “state of the art” ‘ya know? But…glad that this doesn’t mean my vagina’s getting all drepressed and all my feminity fades away while days go by. And I thank my French man friend for that.
He doesn’t have a name, our “thing” doesn’t have a name or exact purpose for neither of us and I guess I don’t have a particular name for him neither. He sometimes calls me “ma p’tite fille de l’est” but only when he tries to piss me off which implies hiting the guy in the guts afterwards. We do fight a lot, physically speaking cause he enjoys to grab me in his arms using his strong hands, acting like the alpha male and kissing my neck as a lunatic. Anyway… As you can see, this is another weird French kinky story.
Back home…guess all was classic and very well planned and my taste in men had completely changed since then. I can admit now that I do enjoy the company of a smart man, knowing what he wants from a woman, knowing how to please her, talk to her, touch her body and her thoughts, bend her over and…guess I’ll leave your imagination to find the end of my sentence here J Don’t go too far, I ain’t that open minded. But, when HE is, I tend to get pretty obedient.
So, here I am guys, in another  “plan cul” experience which means the type of regular one night stands with the same guy blowing your brains out with his charms and giving you some sexual healing from time to time.
As French would say “ça fait du bien” as in “it’s good for your health” more or less.
Well as long as “tu te prends pas la tete” or you don’t get involved or give a shit ‘bout how the story will end or how will you end up afterwards, things are pretty simple, clear and nothing gets into your way.
The most important factor here is to stimulate your imagination and your partners as well in order to keep the flame alive and avoid boredom.
And what have I learned from this type of experience is the fact that our male friends can be easily manipulated if you’re keeping it cool. The emotionally coolness gets them horny and makes them want you over and over again. You keep on being that innocent young prey which they would love to catch. In the same time they feel like they’re in control and they enjoy teaching you stuff and your obedience gets them come back fo’ more. Always. At least, that’s what some French guys feel.
Faking a fake relationship is the key to success here. Cause, well, let’s be honest, spending more than 3 months with the same guy, seeing him like every week, enjoying his company, sharing thoughts and moments from your life from time to time, texting, sexting, dinning, going out to the movies and all the stuff normal couples do in usual life…seems pretty “relationshipsy” to me. But you never have to let the guy know that. Never let the guy realize the fact that this might involve the “together” part, the “love&romance” thought. Never let the guy realize the fact that you both are being exclusive with one another. It ain’t gonna work. All French guys tend to get annoyed by this stuff. Why would you fuck it all up for the stupid title of “petite amie/ma copine”?
Giving up good sex for a title? No. I don’t think so. At least while it’s still good and you’re not bored or something, keep on playing the game of sexual seduction and forget the couple bullshit and Valentine treats.
Not telling it’s not good to have that awesome type of relationship where you feel loved and you love from the bottom of your soul. That’s a different story especially created for those few lucky people living in this world somewhere else than France. Sorry for being so subjective but, it’s my life I’m talking about here and…well, I do live in France. And French people are peculiar. Especially men. Women…we’re all the same no matter where we’re coming from or going to. Talk a lot, feel a lot, cry a lot, work a lot, shop a lot, give birth to tiny humans and gain less than men. And we usually have long hair and wear skirts and high kitten heels or sexy leather boots.
And…guess we should “go back to our sheeps” or “revenons à nos moutons” , guys. As I said, you have to keep it simple and give the impression you’re that “femme fatale” who’s completely detached, very “à l’aise” with her looks and sexuality, still available on the single women’s market, always ready to say “yes” to any other cute guy, still flirting with others in a subtle way in order to show yourself and your French man friend that you still CAN.
It’s not that complicated once you know how your guy works or…how usually guys work in general.
They all follow their basic instincts like hunger , lust or that awkward sense of private property. They were, are and will be predictable if you’re smart enough to figure them out.
Some of them enjoy to see you flirting on social networks or with colleagues at work or sometimes with your lesbian friends if you’re lucky enough to have some of those. Others react in a pretty negative way to this type of attitude. Mine doesn’t.
Looks are very important as well to those who love to watch. Watch you dress up, watch your moves while they undress you, watch the accessories you put on from time to time. That meaning, kitten heels, black undies or violet, depends on the guy, pearls or golden jewellery , the way your hair looks, the colour of your hair as well. Even if they don’t recognize it, men react to all of these “stimuli”. And all you have to do is pay attention without showing it.
The lack of interest is what interests  them in you. Keep a certain distance in time and space between you and the guy, let him approach you regularly but still giving him the false impression that it has been like years since the last time you were his.
Annoy him, don’t agree with him, get nasty and naughty without seeming to care about the consequences. It will drive him crazy and this type of “bad girl” will be very appealing. Play games. Gamble ! Take risks! Keep it all alive and spice it all up! “Garde le mystère”!
And then again, I am not talking here about normal, classic type of guys which are all into relationships and love and stuff. I am talking about French young guys which love to play and from which you can learn tons of stuff and which do not seem serious at all. The guys who are into weird books, weird movies, travel and foreign languages or foreign experiences, who are open minded, who are afraid of the involvement and of babies and marriage, who are into porn, who are very “straight in the face” if you know what I mean.
The others…well, I never got to know them well. They always slipped between my fingers just when I started to get used to them and love and cherish them. Tant pis pour eux as French would say…it’s their loss.
I ain’t loosing nothing no more cause I have nothing to loose, he doesn’t have nothing to loose cause theoretically, we do not have nothing. But this nothing’s still alive for more than three months now and it’s in a pretty good shape as well.
More about this “nothing” next time, guys! Cheers!
Take care, smile and let yourself go!

vineri, 4 ianuarie 2013

duminică, 30 decembrie 2012

marți, 25 decembrie 2012

The Christmas sheep...

Don’t worry, dear reader, this won’t be a story ‘bout tiny Jesus, those sheep from the New Testament and the shepards and stuff…even if it’s Christmas Eve.
Well, don’t know if you guys know, but, since I was a child, I never slept alone.
I’ve always had that tiny fluffy special thing which French people use to call “doudou”. Either it was a simple puppet or a teddy bear…well I’ve always had to hug them and keep them close to my heart each evening when I’d gone to sleep. Did it the whole time I’ve lived in Romania, did it when I was in Belgium and still doing it when I’m in France. And yes, I know I am a 24 years old girl with a doudou. But who cares about what the others think here? No one could ever take away my doudou.
Anyway…I’ve noticed that people who care about me and expect love and respect in return buy me a doudou as well. I could start with one of my Romanian ex boyfriends who bought me a teddy bear which I still have and actually left under my sheets on my pink princess king sized bed from home. It has been laying there since 2010…and I won’t remove it soon.
 Afterwards, there were my best friends from college who bought me a cow which I still have here in Paris. Unfortunately the cow was pretty traumatised after a few car washings, but it is still alive and usable you know. I hug it from time to time when I miss Dooda or when I’m watching “Sex&the city”.
Once my mum noticed that these two doudous mean a lot to me I think she became a little bit jealous so she thought it could be a good idea to buy me herself another doudou which could replace the cow. So, one day, I see my mum coming home with a new doudou. Before I open the box and see what it is as animal my mum tells me “I’ve bought you a whale!!!” It was kinda deceiving to open the box and see that inside there was a shark :/ But still…I’ve appreciated my mum’s good intentions. In the end, we both agreed that her whale looks more like a daulphin and we’ve sticked to that ‘cause it sounded better than the shark. Really now…how could you have a shark as doudou to cherish and to love every night ?
So…I had now 2 doudous and I was sleeping with the cow. Never change this habbit like for…2 years or something.
Then, one day came when I’ve met a man. A nice one actually which I’ve met at the tourism institute here in France. And guess what? The guy offered me a sheep. I’ve felt in love, accepted the sheep and It became really fast my favourite doudou in the whole world. It’s a pretty cute sheep you know…with a retarded smile and all.
As you expected, the love story ended but I’ve kept the sheep. It’s all that’s left from a beautiful franco-romanian love story…and continued to sleep with it.
Guess my mum got jealous again and well, she was thinking that I couldn’t move on if I continue to sleep with the sheep so, do you know what she bought me for Christmas this year? It’s pretty obvious : a new doudou.
As the last time, I get home, receive the box and before I open it my mum tells me all excited “I’ve bought you a new cow! “ Ok, I told myself that this is better than a shark so I’ve seemed pretty excited about the idea. Then I’ve opened the box and…what do I see? A new sheep. My Christmas sheep. :/
Oh well, guess I’m gonna try to sleep with it tonight. Keep you posted if it has the same effect as the last sheep I had.
And Merry Christmas, guys!

duminică, 23 decembrie 2012

vineri, 21 decembrie 2012

Country roads...take me home

The usual track for this period of the year is..."all i want for Christmas is you" . I'm not a fan. It's selfish and fake. I don't want only one person for Christmas, i want several of them to be here and get all merry with me. Family, friends and the others i love and appreciate. So, in the end, no, i won't ask Santa for that. But i've asked him to take me home. And he did. Well...virtually, but he did. This morning, i've found several pictures from home in my mailbox. They've filled me up with happiness and joy and Christmas feelings . Guess Santa does exist and guess i'll always be that shy moldavian country 'gal with that odd country accent who loves the snow more than everything. And i miss my grand parents, and my amazing grandpa who watches over me from a place near heaven still doing crazy communist stuff . Have a merry Christmas, my young readers! Raise your heads up and follow your dreams wherever you are, however sad or lonely you feel!

marți, 18 decembrie 2012