Category Archives: France

Artistic innit?


To be honest, I don’t really consider myself an artist… more like some knob who creates stuff no one cares about. I’m posting this one (for once, I never post on public sites my artwork), because it’s not very personal, and mr T is in it (not that he knows this of course). It’s an homage. I wanted him to be part of an art piece without him knowing, so now he is a published author too (except he won’t be paid, although, neither am I, so I think we’re equal… here’s hoping he didn’t copy right that photo… which as a by the by isn’t great quality (note to self tell him, if he ever talks to me again, how to use the adjustments on his camera) but who cares, he is part of it. Cool eh!? Even if you said no I wouldn’t give a rats ass.

Enjoy!

(p.s. The story talks a lot about booze. Just in case you thought I was an alcoholic, I just had the results of a blood test and my alcohol levels are good, and, YESSSSSSSS are low too. So screw you metabolism! I can drink like anyone’s business!)

 Hello Toulouse

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I know. I know.


On/offI have to say, I am feeling rather on the apathetic side today, but I shall stroll through that part of my brain, and go straight to the... Roxy, you are dead cringe now. You're 24. Stop acting like a 12 year old who has a crush on one of the Westlife fellas (can't believe I just wrote "fellas". I will admit, it seems the kind of word that sits quite well next to the band Westlife). Anyway. I have a crush. I know. Shock Horror. Me. Me? Yes. Yes I know. Me. The cringe factor is that I am really shy when it comes to my feelings. I think I don't like really telling people how I feel about a person (whether in a friendly or in a "I like you where it smells funny" kind of like (to quote the Bloodhound Gang (first time they have probably EVER been quoted to be honest anyway)). In any case, I don't know the guy per say (he's in my school, 4th year student... and before you start shouting ERRRRR OLDER MAN... I'm the same age as him, I just had to do 2 degrees first), but he did give me a tour of the school (ok, not personally... but well, it felt like it). He isn't really my type (if I were to define my type anyway) but he has something about him which I find... intriguing? (now I feel like I'm in a Jane Austin book... swoon swoon... (argh)) but to be honest, I feel that really he is hot hot hot... and fuck it, yes I'm going to say it. He's hot with two t's. Usher had it right. It's "hott" in here. I'm not going to say anything about him, safe to say he probably has no idea I exist, and I am actually capable to changing direction in order to avoid him (see, told you. This is the reaction of a 12 year old). Unless I am super drunk, and let's be honest, I am never really drunk... I probably won't say anything. I've only ever asked one guy out... didn't turn out great (I'll briefly mention that he is not talking to me at the moment... I think he's too embarrassed. This is a guy we will call X (original? Yes I think so!) (i digress sorry), all my friends think he is super weird and dodgy (but we have been friends for 5 years on and off, he pisses me off). And we have messed around, but I'm not like that. So yeah. Anyway, never liked him, started to have feelings and he started to be weird. My friends personally feel he's chicken. Or doesn't know what he wants. Well I ain't gunna wait!)
So back to super sexy guy from my school (I say school, I mean art school, for adults. You know. Real humans). I haven't seen him in over a week. i think he's either dead, or hibernating. Which, if it's the latter, sucks because winter is a good excuse to get naked inside with someone... but if he is going to be sleeping all winter, not only is my winter gunna suck (I mean even if i never get to see the inside of his bedroom, I would still like to openly drool in his direction from time to time, but hiding behind a cleverly disguised Jane Austin fan... duh!) But, if he does hibernate all winter, then come spring, he will be one horny little sexpot... but he might jump on any skinny french girl and then I'd be dumb. So... I'm thinking of hatching a plan. Except. That isn't me. So... I think I'll just continue my passive aggressiveness and ignore him, and continue my quest for eternal celibacy. If I'm still single in a year, I'll join either a nunnery... or a bordello. I'm betting on the nunnery.
What is truly depressing, is that all my friends have the same discourse of "you are amazing, super cool, bright... I don't know why you're single". Seriously? Last week I even got a "If I were a guy, I would so go out with you". Really? Well. Fuck me oh riley. I'm not looking for prince charming, I'm looking for a guy who has a brain, a sense of humour, can drink a beer, laugh with my friends, and find the right words for me". Now I'm not saying he has to be gorgeous, I tend to go for guys who look "different". But come on, God, don't send me any really obese guys. A little tummy, I'm cool with. A ridiculous hipster moustache? Fine; I'll deal. A guy who cross-dresses on weekends? Fine. Whatever. But holy fuck. Why, why... WHY am I alone?
I don't say this while slashing my wrists, I'm not depressed... I am seriously questioning myself.  I want to know. I personally think it's because I'm too much to handle. Guys can't take a girl who doesn't take shit from no one, speaks her mind and is generally a eccentric funky person. But at 24 I still have hope. (I say 24... but it's nearly my birthday! Christmas baby everyone!). How long should I wait until signing my death warrant? Or join a covent? (I can totally rhyme!)
25? 27? 50?
I might have to join an online wedding site. You know like in Russia. I'd be doing it legally too, I mean i already have 2 passports, so I don't even need to pretend to marry some guy just for a European passport, because I have two. That said, if it ends up like in the movies, I'll either be married to a heavily obese farmer... or a axe wielding murderer. I think I'll choose the murdering fuck-head. I'm pretty sure he'd make it a fast death. Or maybe like in Reservoir Dogs, he'll cut one of my ears off (which, i'd then go for the fat farmer, I'll just roll him over with the tractor, or fill his gullet with boiled eggs. Fat bastard probably wouldn't even choke. Probably slowly chew each one and ask for more).
Still. Need a plan. Mmmmm fuck it. I'm gunna flash the sexy guy from school (by the way, totally found him on Facebook... the guy has two youtube accounts as well, so I can perv on him from the comfort of my own flat... Now I sound weird).
Logging off. Need to make eggs. (I joke. It will be hot chocolate (no lactose, it will be soy)).
p.s. If the sexy guy from my school, in 4th year happens to pass by and read this (which is doubt, come on... he has never spoken to me)... I'm not a sociopath. I am just very shy and scared of making any decisions that will hurt me).
xxx

			

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It’s no longer chicken soup for the soul ladies and gents…


It’s raspberry cheesecake and chilli chocolate muffins.

Not to out do Martha Stewart… after a day of boredom… i decided to bake… bake… and bake. Not great when you’re on a “diet”… I need to lose boob and tummy weight… even though everyone says I don’t need to (especially the boob section) but I suppose I just made that a but harder… in any case… I got a message from a friend a few days ago… asking how I was and if I wanted to meet up (in Toulouse) next week… But to be honest, I don’t know if I should. I mean, (and I am still confused about this part) after I left Stockholm, I got back to uni… and everything had changed. My guy friends just… “dropped” me. Why? I have… no idea… this guy (who I really liked… as a friend… and may I say… he tried to sleep with me a fair few times… not that THAT was going to happen) just decided… he didn’t want to be friends anymore… well to be more correct when after 3 months I still hadn’t gone for a drink with him, I asked him straight out why we had not seen each other… and he said “I don’t have the same desire to see as I did before”. Now, to be brutal… I was floored. We had never been uber close… but close enough to know each other pretty well…

So what did I do?

I got up, and made myself some new friends! Partied like a crazy person, worked hard and got over it.

So… why do I suddenly get this… request to “meet up for a drink it’s been ages”…? I have no idea… argh. Even I can’t try and psychoanalyse this shit. So I am going to have a slice of cheesecake, and a giant glass of wine… or diet coke… whatever I can get my hands on first.

If you want the recipes… here we go (at least something positive can come out of it) :

Baked Raspberry Cheesecake 

Ingredients

  • 8 digestive biscuits
  • 50g butter , melted
  • 600g cream cheese
  • 2 tbsp plain flour
  • 175g caster sugar
  • Vanilla extract
  • 2 eggs, plus 1 yolk
  • 142ml pot soured cream
  • 300g raspberries 
  • icing sugar

Method

  1. Heat the oven to 180C/fan 160C/gas 4. Crush 8 digestive biscuits in a food processor (or put in a plastic bag and bash with a rolling pin). Mix with 50g melted butter. Press into a 20cm springform tin and bake for 5 minutes, then cool.
  2. Beat 600g cream cheese with 2 tbsp flour, 175g caster sugar, a few drops of vanilla extract, 2 eggs, 1 yolk and a 142ml pot of soured cream until light and fluffy. Stir in 150g raspberries and pour into the tin. Bake for 40 minutes and then check, it should be set but slightly wobbly in the centre. Leave in the tin to cool.
  3. Using the remaining 150g raspberries, keep a few for the top and put the rest in a pan with 1 tbsp icing sugar. Heat until juicy and then squash with a fork. Push through a sieve. Serve the cheesecake with the raspberry sauce and raspberries.

Dark Chocolate and Chilli Cupcakes

Ingredients

  • Chocolate cupcakes :
  • 175g (6 oz) unsalted butter, softened
  • 140g (5 oz) light muscovado sugar
  • 2 large eggs, beaten
  • 2 tablespoons golden syrup
  • 225g (8 oz) self-raising flour
  • 115g (4 oz) dark chocolate, melted
  • 1 or 2 red chillies, deseeded and very finely chopped
  • Chocolate frosting :
  • 175g (6 oz) dark chocolate (above 70% cocoa solids)
  • 2 tablespoons dark muscovado sugar
  • 150ml soured cream
  • To decorate :
  • Red and green coloured marzipan
  • Red sugar sprinkles

Method

1. Preheat the oven to 180ºC/350ºF/gas mark 4. Line a 12-cup muffin tray with paper cases.
2. Beat the butter and sugar together until creamy. Gradually mix in the eggs and stir in the golden syrup, flour, melted chocolate and chopped chillies.
3. Spoon into the paper cases and bake for 20 minutes or until just firm to the touch. Cool in the tin for 10 minutes before removing to a wire rack to cool completely.
4. To make the chocolate icing: chop or break the chocolate into small pieces and melt in a bowl placed over a pan of steaming water, stirring until smooth. Remove the bowl to the work surface and beat in the sugar until dissolved, followed by the sour cream.
5. Spread the frosting over the cupcakes and decorate with chillies, or hearts moulded from coloured marzipan or sugar paste icing. Scatter over red sugar sprinkles.

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Let’s All Say Goodbye…. to 2011


Time Flies When... ?

Time Flies When... ?

This year has been full of ups and downs. So… what happend?

I started the year in the wonderful city of Stockholm. I had just spent six months of pure bliss there (apart from the fact that my bank account was constantly bone dry, was really only a minor bump in the road to be honest). But, the year 2011 definitely started in style. January came and went, and it thus meant I had to leave the snowy north, and return to the chilly south of France to finish my History degree. February past, and I was taught that sometimes friends do nasty things, and that sometimes you need to cut people out of your life, because they are not worth the time you spent crying about them. So I said my second of my goodbyes in the beginning of 2011. Sadly it wouldn’t be the last. However, at university everything was great, good marks, and here came March. I met some new people and made new friends. Life was back on track. I was happy at home, at university and hurrah! I found a work experience placement in an art gallery. I even lost two kilos that month! We are now slowly creeping into April… nothing particularly interesting here. Between weekends with friends, and weekends back at home to see my family, life was as mundane and everyday as you could get. With May came exams… and big decisions… What am I going to do next year? Where am I going? And what the fuck am I going to do with my life? 

Well… now here is a certain “crise existentielle” (existential crisis)… but hey, I am far too busy with exams and the occasional (or not so occasional) knees up with friends, so I am not thinking about it. 

End of May. Results… Passed! Woo hoo ! Now… here starts my month of work experience. My first day I meet two girls who are also working at the gallery like me. We shall call them Jane Doe 1 and Jane Doe 2. I get along really great with both of them, and in particular Jane Doe 1. She is moving to Bordeaux next year to finish her history of Art degree. I decide to do a second degree and join her. That explains mostly why I am now living in Bordeaux. June in finished. July is here… and I pack up my apartment, and leave to join my parents. I go back and forth between Toulouse (where my friends are) and the pyrenees (where my parents are). The summer is hot, and I decide to get my first tattoo (which, don’t worry I had been planning for many a moon). July has finished… and like every summer, I am tan-less and freckle covered. 

August is here. I start work at a restaurant with a friend as waitresses. It is fun, but very tiring. I don’t see the month pass, and I am already moving again to another town. Goodbye Toulouse, Bordeaux here I come. I arrive in Bordeaux sans flat… so like any good natured hobo, I sleep on my friends’ couch for about 2 months. Around this time, I met some guy on the internet. He seems nice, I enjoy chatting with him… and then he suddenly decides we can’t talk anymore (I will admit… I still don’t understand what the frack happened there !). In any case, we are now in October, and I have a place to live end of the month! On the seventh of October, I get a call from my mother, who announces the death of a friend. I have not known many people that have died, but I feel heartbroken. I cry and cry. For some reason, I feel like moving around so much, changing towns, cities, countries and meeting new people, I end up saying more goodbyes than hellos. Jane Doe and I have been at our new university, and I have met some amazing new people, a few I know I will be friends with for a long time. I cannot forget the past, but I decide to continue, because this is one of life’s curve balls, and I know that I need to pick myself up again, and see all the greatness in the world. 

November is “move in” time. The apartment is far too big for my little old self, so I fill it with art. I have parties, we meet new people. I get a job interview for a pub. They like me and I’m hired. I also get a letter from the Musée d’Aquitaine in Bordeaux offering me a two month work experience placement! Joy indeed. December is here, I need to buy presents and I spend far too much money on my parents, but they have made so many sacrifices, that I just want to spoil them. December is nearly gone, and it’s the 25th. I turn 23. Then it’s the 31st. A friend and I order sushi and we see the new year in sober, but that’s exactly how I want it to be.

This year has been a real eye opener. 2011 was the year of “goodbyes”. 2012 I have decided will be the year of big decisions and “hellos”. I don’t want to say anymore “goodbyes”. So I have decided to live forever. Become a millionaire, and travel the world saying hello. I will never say anymore “goodbyes,” and just say  “see you laters”. I don’t want to make any new year resolutions, because I know I won’t stick to any of them, but I also know that you can’t predict what is going to happen next, so why try and pretend we are prepared for what is going to happen, and just continue biting our nails, smoking cigarettes, sleeping around, gaining weight etc. Let’s just live life, try our best and stay true to ourselves. Yes it’s corny. Yes you’ve heard this a million time. But we all know that the same shit always happens again and again, so let’s be mentally prepared this year.

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Sexual Penpals…


Bla bla blaaaa

Bla bla blaaaa

Just like the fuck-buddy… the sexual penpal is the new “must have” gadget of the 21st century. Don’t lie. Everyone has one… or at least a dirty little secret they won’t 100% admit too.

Let me explain. Is the fuck-buddy is your physical toy… the sexual pen-pal is your imaginary one… or at least one you don’t have regular sex with. He (or she) is… not computer or techno-phobic like some other guys/gals. He/she will reply to texts, e-mails… dirty texts… photos… and if you’re lucky (and he/she doesn’t mind spending money/time/credit on you) the elusive “chat” (this dirty way of communication is good for the popular nineties fad of phone sex… nowadays it’s more skype sex (or msn sex if you still have windows 98).

In any case, the sexual penpal is the person you exchange more or less steady contact with, rare daydreams (because let’s be honest, you’re not too attracted to them) but you keep the relationship alive, because… if you’re honest… you like the attention.

There’s not point lying. We all do it. Everyone has a sort of emotional “tampon”. A guy/girl who we keep around to make us feel good about ourselves. The sexual pen-pal is just the same. Except that you swap dirty provocative texts with the latter, and keep the emotional tampon around for when you want a bucket of ice-cream and a hug. I really like my sexual penpal. I like him because I know I better looking than him. I like him because I know he likes me. I know things about him… so sexual blackmail usually gets me small gifts (don’t worry, don’t call the RSPCA, we are friends… he just… likes me more than I like him…) anyway.

The sexual penpal is a great tool to try weird fantasies and desires out. Sure… you might not really do them to him per say… but if you really want to have “up the butt sex while wearing clown shoes and wearing nothing but bacon” then… it’s a good idea to try that idea on him/her first (this is how I found out he likes anal sex… thus the blackmail…).

What you notice about the sexual penpal is two distinct relationship evolutions : either you continue to talk… and even if neither of you want to admit it (either because the sex was embarrassing when it happened, and/or he has misshaped balls (this happens. Get over it hunny. Could be worse.) you have actually become fond of each other… (more of this in a minute) OR you lose touch because he : a) Is embarrassed, b) Decides not to keep contact because he has got a new girlfriend/realised he could never get you back into his 6m2 apartment for some “rollin’ on his mattress bed (classy… it’s on the floor… but he says he likes it that way” c) Is bored… etc.

In any case, like most things it’s either yes/no, black/white, 50/50, yes/no… etc.

To illustrate point one (becoming fond of each other) I’ll tell you about my “sexual penpal”… No lies, all truth (and in case my daddy’s reading this… It’s all a lie! ^^).

I met him online. Yes did I hear you cringe on the other side of the screen? Yeah, I know… online dating is… I’m afraid for social retards who can’t function in real society… and thus need to use the inter-web to find a date (yeah I’m talking about you, you immature little boy)… Anyway. We met online. I was in a period of my life, when I only needed, and wanted one thing… so we got down to work. He then moved to another city pretty far… which led to me forgetting him and finding someone else… but for some reason, he would text from time to time, so… as a friendly person that I am (I really am) I texted back and forth for a few months… at the beginning, all you talk about is sex… and a bit of “what are you doing at work/school/prison/pirate ship”/ etc.)
I started to noticed more and more  texting… and so I eventually asked him “Are we friends?” He replies by telling me he doesn’t want to date me. Now for some girls, you might shed a tear, urinate yourself… or both. Me… well I’m not really like that. What actually came into my head was “Why the fuck wouldn’t you want to date me, I’m fucking amazing… and then… Babe I definitely don’t want to date you… or be seen in public with you…” So… I re-explain that for a guy who still insists I’m just his “ex-fuckbuddy”… then why the frick his he still contacting me? Seriously. If you don’t like me… Do what I do… I delete everything about you… literally. For me it’s all or nothing. In any case… he said we could never be friends because we had had sex (no I’m no prude… and I’m no whore… but I don’t see why I can’t be friends with my exes and/or guys I’ve had sex with. Seeing someone naked doesn’t mean “no, no we can’t ever been friends, you’ve seen my pee-pee”. What generation is the write one to be in? (I will just add that this guy is about 10 years older than me…). Anyway… to continue… he continues to text/call/email/facebook the lot. I even got some sexy photos and a skype show (but let’s keep some details personal shall we!?) So… one night, he calls me, we chat… and Roxy loses it. People who know me, know not to piss me off. I go from 0 to 220km/h in 2 seconds flat. To cut a long story short. I get him to admit that for someone who doesn’t “give that much of a crap about me”, he does sure contact me a lot… and I had to say was “Grow the fuck up you baby” and “Actions speak louder than words” and I go the answer I wanted :

– Ok, You’re right. I suppose we are friends… like like to occasionally bump uglies.

That’s all I wanted. Honesty.

Now. Back to sexual penpals. In my opinion, they are great ways of of experimenting and well when you’re bored on a 3 hours train/bus/car ride like I usually am… it’s a good way to pass the time. And it’s cheap sex. No condoms or buying drinks/dinner for anyone. I think it sounds like the perfect relationship. Problem is. Sometimes they get jealous… which I never understand.

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Inimitable, Atypique, Anomalie, Unique… Moi !


I apologise for all those who don’t speak French, but I am in a very good mood… why? Who knows, but I like to spread the happiness, and I am of the opinion that French is the language I desire to write in today (lucky I’m half French then isn’t it?)

So, commençons !

Lorsqu’on te demande de te décrire. Que dis tu ? J’ai pris la décision de vraiment parler de moi pour ce poste. Peu de gens le savent, mais je ne suis certainement pas un livre ouvert. Je suis honnête, ce que tu vois, est souvent ce que je pense et que je suis, mais au fond, on cache toujours quelques petites particules de note veritable “Être”. Pour beaucoup, ce sont les timides, ceux qui parle peu ou pas, qui cache leur jeu… mais en réalité, ce n’est pas de ceux qu’il faut se méfier ! Je ne peux que parler pour moi, et de mon propre experience, mais j’estime ayant pas mal voyagé, et étant de nature partante pour essayer tout au moins une fois… que je commence à connaître ce qui est l’homme… même si je sais que je n’ai que fais une égratignure à la surface. Je sais qui je suis. Je le dis haut et fort.

JE SUIS MOI. JE NE SUIS PAS PARFAITE. MAIS JE M’AIME, ET JE SAIS QUE TOI, OUI TOI LÀ POURRAIT M’AIMER AUSSI.

Etre sur de cela me permet peu – à – peu à ne pas trop attarder sur ceux qui me dont mal. Qui refuse ce que je suis, ce que je peux donner, et finalement ce que je represente. Je ne suis pas comme tout les autres. On me le dis. Et on me le répète. Ce serait tout de même pompeux de ma part, de croire que je suis seule à penser cela, car au fond, dans le monde dans laquelle nous vivons, nous sommes tous unique… et nous somme tous pareil notre notre façon d’être unique. Que sont ceux qui se démarque vraiment ? Comment savoir si nous le sommes ? Je pense savoir.

Absinthe...

Ceux qui sont véritablement différente le savent, au fond de leur âme qui le sont. Je ne parle ni de la maniere de s’habiller, ni de ceux qui se donne des airs en buvant de l’absinthe au bord d’une rivière, chapeau melon à leurs cotés et un spliff dans l’autre main. L’individualité ce n’est pas ceux que l’on pointe du doigt dans la rue car leur apparence choque notre état d’âme, ni ceux que l’on entend parler d’art et de politique comme si cela aller être eux qui aller refaire une utopie dans un monde comme la notre, où à chaque carrefour on voit ce qui est un univers à la fois gigantesque et désastreuse.

Ceux qui sont au sommet de l’atypique sont ceux que tu croises peut-être deux ou trois fois dans ta vie, que tu trouve banale, ou même étrange au premier abord… mais que dés que tu fasses l’effort de creuser un peu plus dans ce qu’on appelle “l’intimité de chacun” on réalise qu’on à trouver une perle rare, une perle peut-être disgracieuse au premier regard… peut-être qui manque d’uniformité… qui ne brille pas comme les autres… mais qui te transperce le coeur avec un javelot… te figes où tu te trouves.

C’est en quelque sorte ce qui est l’amour. L’amour ce n’est pas pour moi un sentiment comme on pourrait le penser. La colère, c’est la colère. La haine… n’est qu’un sentiment parmi d’autre… l’amour… c’est un assemblage de tout les sentiments. Lorsqu’on aime… on est également heureux, en colère parfois… jaloux… on est un puzzle de sentiments. L’amour… c’est en réalité la recherche d’une personne, que l’on ne connaît pas encore, ou qu’on connaît… mais si pour certains l’amour leur “tombe sur la tête”… ce n’est pas totalement vrai… l’amour c’est la recherche d’un certain nombre de choses qui ne sont pas totalement quantifiable. Parfois on ne sait pas ce qu’on cherche, mais lorsqu’on la trouvé… on en est sur.

l’individualité c’est un peu comme cela. Un premier rencontre n’est pas determinant. Ce que beaucoup oublie, c’est qu’il y a une multitude de “choses” qui font que telle ou telle rencontre est une réussite ou non. Je ne peux plus compter le nombre de fois on ma dis “Oh ben ta copine… je ne l’aime pas!”. Plus tard… lors d’une autre rencontre… elle peut être plus réussite. Pourquoi ? De nos jours, la veritable individualité ils ne voient pas. On ne peut jamais juger un livre par sa couverture. Pourquoi ferons – nous pareil avec les personnes que nous croisons ?

Je ne peux savoir. Mais je sais qui je suis. Je suis historienne. J’aime fouiller. J’aime découvrir ce que fais vibrer les gens. Je veux connaître le plus de choses possible et le plus de gens possible. Si la vie est un chemin à parcourir, je veux le faire avec les autres.

J’ai des regrets. J’ai fais des erreurs, mais je pense qu’il faut donner plus de chances aux gens, car tout n’est pas entre nos mains. Pour certains, la part des choses qui n’est pas dans notre controle, c’est Dieu qui le détient… pour d’autres… c’est autrui. Pour moi, c’est le hasard. Ne laissons pas le hasard dicter notre vie, il faut lorsqu’on est déçu, remonter sur ce cheval métaphorique, et re-tenter de comprendre l’autre.

Vous allez peut-être me demander ce qui à prompter ce blog. Ce serait difficile d’en parler sans que cette personne sache que je parle, d’eux. Mais si je peux être plus sommaire dans ma pensée, je pense que cet individu pourrait bien s’entendre avec moi, mais je suis déçu de la manière que nous avons passé du temps ensemble… ce n’était que peu propice à la découverte d’autrui… et j’ai peur d’avoir perdu cette personne à jamais. Pourquoi ? Car nous, l’être humain tel qu’il ait… aime jouer.. jouer avec l’autre c’est son passe-temps favori… et cette bête est parfois trop fière pour creuser au plus profond de l’autre pour savoir ce qui ne va pas.

Je termine donc avec une idée fixe de ce que je fois faire. Donner une chance ultime d’autrui, que lui aussi, tout comme moi, doit faire d’avantage d’effort dans la recherche de l’individualité de chacun. Tout le monde sait, combien de fois on me la dis, que je ne suis vraiment pas comme les autres. Il y en a vraiment qu’une Roxane ? Tu m’étonnes que mes parents ne voulais que faire un enfant, il me faut des hommes et des femmes fortes pour comprendre ce que je suis. Beaucoup abandonne. D’autres savent qu’il y a au bout du chemin quelqu’un de peut-être fantastique. Tout comme tout le monde est.

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Filed under Culture, Europe, France, Friends, Games People Play, Happiness, Hate!, Love, Men vs. Women, NEW!, Politics, Sadness, Society

European Dating Update !


 

So... what do you want to do?

I know. I’m single. So you’re probably thinking I am not the best candidate to be giving out advice. Well you can eat your words, because I must be amazing… because last night someone came up to me, asked for my number and we even discuss world finance ! Now… I shall be honest, he was an overweight Iranian late thirty year old… so not exactly my “dream demographic” and yet… no no I’m joking! I did NOT go there! I had to pretend I was dating someone, but it shows that we British/French girls have got in “goin’ on baby”!

In any case, as many of my readers will noticed (all three of you!) one of my most popular posts is about European Dating! And I may say, many a google search engine has sent the lucky internet surfer on my blog! So… here is an update on the subject!

Lately… I have been traveling a lot less (too much work!) but that doesn’t mean I haven’t met the fellow European… or other people or the world! So here goes…

1) The French… I wouldn’t say the French are my speciality… but I do live here and have had the chance of dating a fair few! What are they like you may ask? I would say… mmm… there are two ways of handling a Frog. Being up front is probably the best possible game to play… either say you want… say a “sex friend” (“plan cul” in French by the way) or say you would like to see where this goes. That said, I am and have been always a very passionate person, so when I like someone, he generally knows it! But… since that technique hasn’t exactly been working in my favour, I’ve starting playing games… and I’m sad to say that it is working (argh damn you Jan Austin!). I’ve been playing it cool, been very “peace and love” and it’s working. He is running after me. I am doing less work that usual. It’s a strange feeling. But hey, if the shoes fits! I suppose another way to get a Frenchie would be sex. No, I know there’s no surprise there, but the french love it. I think they are literally obsessed. That said… I wouldn’t recommend using your body to get a man… I don’t believe it really works that well, unless you want to be perceived as a whore… and that’s fine… but I don’t think it works for everyone!

2) The British… I really don’t have very much experience with these guys. I think they like really loose, honest women. :-/

3) The Spanish… I actually really like Spanish guys. They are usually bright, funny and honest guys. That said, you can’t generalize but I have always enjoyed their company. Very laid back guys, and to be honest I feel that these are the guys you can really be yourself with… whereas the French are pretty judgemental (clothes and money), the Spanish don’t see to really care about the way you dress or things like that. I mean, I am sure that some people are of course, but I haven’t met any.

4) Moroccan/Algerian guys… are very upfront. I can’t say there is much romance here. If you want to snag the north african man, not much game playing or flirting is needed. Tell them what you want and it’s a done deal.

That’s all for today I’m afraid… I have work to do (and I really want to take a nap!).

ps: To get any guy, alcohol, pizza and sexy clothes usually work. 🙂

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Filed under Alcohol, Clichés, Europe, France, Men vs. Women, North Africa, Spain, UK