qui ne tente rien, n'a rien

I've been drawing so many blanks on the blogging front, I have no idea what I should blog about anymore and I'm sorry about that. I guess I should take that as a good thing, as most of the things that I end up blogging about are just rants or things to complain about. Except my dating life, which seems to be a natural mess most of the time. This is France, the country of love triangles and awkward romantic comedies centered around trains and food stuck in people's teeth.

My thoughts of late: what are the rules of dating someone who initially tried to tempt you while he was with someone else? My initial reaction would be no, no and absolutely no friggin way, are you kidding me -- you must be crazy, broad abroad. Why would I want to be with someone whose inability to be faithful I witnessed first-hand? I wouldn't, is the answer. But what if the said person had been very patient, very persistent and made a rather convincing case for himself? And has recently proven to be an incredibly fun time and somehow gets me in a hilariously unexpected way? (Worth noting: said someone is currently single).

I guess the natural thing would be to give this person a second chance, albeit a very cautious one... Right?

I've also been thinking about the progression of one's twenties... I feel like often people reach thirty with so many regrets about the way they did things in their twenties. I recently met my Romanian colleague for lunch, and what began as our usual what's-new-in-your-world chat quickly turned into her nearly pleading with me not to squander away my youth.

"Lindsay," she said. "I can't believe I'm about to be 31. I wasted my 20's in a long-term relationship with the wrong man. And now I'm getting old and I feel like with each passing day, there's less and less hope for me to find someone. Please... Don't end up like me. Take chances. Meet everyone you can. Enjoy every moment you have to be reckless and young."

Cue a near anxiety attack. I had to go for a long walk after our lunch together because my stomach felt sick and heavy with her words of wisdom. 24 isn't that young, but her advice seemed conflicting in a lot of ways that I'm either too immature to understand or can't apply to my current situation. Getting married and doing the whole family thing isn't really something I'm sure I want or I'm even cut out for.

She's right, I don't want to end up regretting not taking every opportunity in my 20's, but where exactly do you draw the line? Does it end at the feet of some stupidly charming cheating sleazebag?

Blerg.

xx

je tombe toujours amoureuse d'une porte ouverte.

"The capacity to be alone is the capacity to love.
It may look paradoxical to you, but it is not.

It is an existential truth:
only those people who are capable of being alone are capable of love,
of sharing, of going into the deepest core of the other person -
without possessing the other, without becoming dependent on the other,
without reducing the other to a thing, and without becoming addicted to the other.

They allow the other absolute freedom,
because they know that if the other leaves,
they will be as happy as they are now.
Their happiness cannot be taken by the other,
because it is not given by the other."

- Osho

le temps filait

This is the new addition to my flat -- I've named it Rowdy in honor of those who gave it to me (Kat and Tannie) and all of the Scrubs episodes that we watched while they stayed with me for a few days during their tour of Europe. Why didn't I have a cactus before now?!

Anyway. Aside from Rowdy, who is outside chillin' on the balcony (quite literally -- it became autumn overnight again here. Not unlike last year. Or the year before that....), there's not much to talk about... EXCEPT OH YEAH I'VE BEEN IN LIVING IN FRANCE FOR TWO BIG SCARY YEARS. I certainly felt the first six months of living here drag on endlessly, but after that, I'm seriously left wondering where 2010 went. And now most of 2011, including the summer. What the whaaaaat happened to June, July and August?

That's it. I've got some good ideas for future entries, but I just haven't thought of them yet. Sorry my blog kinda sucks now, but you're still reading it so I don't care.

Just kidding, I do. But only marginally.

:D

bisous

je vais au coiffure (de temps en temps)

Sometimes (meaning every six months) I go to the salon for my bi-annual haircut. I've really been trying to make an effort--I even cut it before Christina's wedding in May!--but even though I have noted "GET A HAIRCUT YOU LAZY BUTTHEAD" every week in my agenda, I always end up conveniently ignoring it and instead decide I don't have time that week. Besides, I've had pretty much only weird experiences at the French coiffure -- either they don't really listen to me or they don't listen to me and they spend the entire time ignoring me and sometimes even leaving me in the chair with the blonde dye burning my scalp.

But you guys, this time, I had a really good experience. I decided to go to a more upscale-y salon and had the most wonderful woman cutting my hair. She was bubbly and making jokes the whole time and not only that, but the woman actually listened to what I wanted! She found just the right shade of red-brown and the end result is, if I may say, awesome. I love her. And I love it.

I wanna shout it from the rooftops! I don't have any post-coiffure remorse for once!!! YAYYYY!!