Monday, November 28, 2011

appellez-moi madame! bordel.

Recently, I read this. It's a thoughtful article which considers all of the social conditioning that women have been led to believe about their emotions (i.e., the hormones in our icky-sticky lady bits make us cuuuuh-RaZy with FEELINGS!!!!) and couples it with the fact that men often prey on this indoctrination in order to manipulate women into thinking that their sentiments of sadness, frustration or anger, which are often directed towards the bad behavior of men, are unrealistic, oversensitive and basically bat-shit silly-willy cray cray.

Such manipulation, the author describes, is called "gaslighting" and they do it to get themselves off the hook for the things that they known they've done wrong. It's something that I was acutely aware of, but I often do find myself brushing off my own similar feelings as a result of me simply being "silly" (I know, I am silly, but not in the all-women-are-crazy kind of way). But it's funny, when I read this article, a strange lightbulb went on in my head. The author took the thoughts that I had been trying to figure out a way of articulating straight out of my estrogen-soaked lady brain.

Let me explain.

A few weeks ago, a person whom I consider to be a good friend came on to me in a sleazy kind of way. This person initially took me under his wing, introduced me to his friends and made me feel like I was a part of something cool in this scary new town. There had been times of light flirting, but I normally take such things with a grain of salt; I understand that this is France where flirting occurs in full-force in many different types of relationships, so I mostly just swept it under the rug and put it down to cultural differences. Like all Frenchmen, he had a girlfriend who I happened to be friendly with. But a few weeks ago, it came to a point where he really... really crossed the line. I was upset and disappointed by his behavior--I didn't know that that was how he saw me and this realization hurt a little bit.

When I confronted him about it, he was initially remorseful. But soon after, he started making cheeky comments, indicating that I had been overreacting before. "Come on, it's not the end of the world -- were you really soooooo offended???" his text message read.

My heart sank. I replayed what had happened that night again and again in my head, thinking you know, maybe he's right... It wasn't that big of a deal! You know what, I'm not even angry about it. I'm being a crazy girl!

No! I'm not angry about it anymore because I miss my friend. I'd really just like for him to apologize so I can forgive him and we can move on! But, it's true that it would be easier to give up, lest he think I'm even crazier than he already does...

Enter: huffington post article. And the lightbulb suddenly went on.

It cemented something I already knew but doubted myself on: he's the one in the wrong here and if he can't own up to his bad behavior then maybe this isn't someone worth having around in the long run. It's not like he's gonna change... It feels a little bit like dating in reverse -- people have to prove themselves to be worthy of long-term friendship.

We still haven't really spoken since the said incident but I wonder whether I'll ever get that apology. If I don't, is it better to just let it fall and move on?

"It's a whole lot easier to emotionally manipulate someone who has been conditioned by our society to accept it. We continue to burden women because they don't refuse our burdens as easily. It's the ultimate cowardice."

Liek zomg u guys, aren't boys just like, the ICKIEST sometimes? :P

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

un peu dans les nuages

The closer it gets to December 13th, the crazier I think I'm becoming. I'm such a child and so incapable of doing anything besides fantasizing about my upcoming vacation. For example, here's what's going on in my head these days....



Scene: My apartment, behind my computer
Date: November 22, 2011

Doo-doo-doo, writing an email. Boring emails... (eyes drift up to the box at the top of my google chrome)... OHMAN! 21 days! 21 DAYS! Homygod, ohmygodican'twaitican'twait! That means in exactly one month, it'll be December 22nd and that means that I'll be going to get BUTTHEAD from the airport! 

Oh boy oh boy, mince pies and the tripod and Mexican food and Christmas and BERK and the loonsicle and homemade beer and! and! and! .... I'mma put on some Christmas music!

Agh, no, I really need to finish these emails. How is it that it's already 1:30? Jesus, the time goes. When am I gonna find the time to go Christmas shopping? Good thing the CHRISTMAS MARKET opens in A WEEK! I love the Christmas market. Mmm, the smell of churros wafting in the air... I always thought churros were a Mexican thing. Mexican. I'm going back to US! So soon, so soon!

OK FOCUS. It's like five emails, you can knock this out in less than 10 minutes, you lazy sod. Dear Mr Whatevertheflub, your lessons and blablabla you're not gonna read this anyway. Little Drummer Boy! I love this version, gotta dance gotta dance!

30 minutes later...

Alright, enough is enough. I'll put on some coffee and my big girl pants. That'll definitely put me in the right mind to be lady professor Lindsay. Ok, time to scan this week's lessons into the computer. O-HEY, my Christmas tree is sitting in the drawer below the printer! Why haven't I brought it out yet? I should decorate it! Ooo, where did I put that American flag toothpick...

Another 30 minutes later...

Ahhh, beautiful. I wish I had some apple scented candles though... OH SHIZ! I have a lesson in an hour! I haven't done anything! The emails still need to be written! The schedule! The lessons! CURSESSSSSSSSS!!!


Sunday, November 13, 2011

la vie est douce.


Have I mentioned lately how much I love banoffee pie? I do. It's like lady-in-a-yogurt-commerical, take-me-away-on-a-floating-cloud-of-sweetness, wake-up-late-on-a-rainy-Sunday-morning kind of good. With a pot of English tea... Mmm.

Look it up if you've never heard of it. I'm making it my mission to recreate it when I'm home and have access to all of the necessary kitchen utensils.

Which, by the way, is in 30 days. Yessss...

xx


Wednesday, November 9, 2011

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