Perpignan and Barcelona

..Blogger's new posting layout is.. intimidating!


But that isn't my excuse for not posting since the 18th. My real excuse, which is no better, is that I've been traveling, sick, and makin' love in new and exciting places. 


A week ago today I took a brief road-trip with my beau into the South of France, Perpignan, where we stayed for a night before heading into Spain and Barcelona for two nights. We visited the usual landmarks and attempted the usual cuisine; tapas, paella, sangria, etc; but mostly just wondered around indecisive and hungry in the gothic district. 


Traveling with TMI in comparison to traveling with K, my disastrous and lengthy premere relationship, (spanning from Hawaii, to the West Coast, to several European countries)is like ice cream cones vs. prickly cactus sandwiches. Tears, fights, and unpleasantry vs. cherished and cheery closeness and company.


We visited the Guell Garden and kissed in private rock enclaves, purchased spanish guiar cd's from local musicians, and made fun of asian tourists. 


Perpignan on the other hand, where we spent a second night on our way home, is a depressing place. Trash in the roads; kids jumping around with dogs and smoking scary looking beer-bellied dad's on street corners. All the more depressing since TMI's family is selling their unbelievable house in even more unbelievable Sauzet and renting a large apartment there, going where their work takes them. 


While lamenting the impending departure from the blazing green countryside, I'm also slowly dying with several diseases. Feels like strep throat and a sinus infection. Anguish in pain in respective areas for the past 6 days without improvement. Thank GOODNESS, TMI returned from a sympathetic doctor this afternoon with an arsenal of antibiotics, so I'm hopeful that I'll see the sun again.


One thing I notice though is that the sicker I get the more lively my sex drive. It's like my body wants desperately to reproduce before I cash in the chips.
..
do the texas cakewalk
kick the bucket
go room temperature
put on the pine overcoat 

etc.

Apology Letter

For some reason or another I remain pretty adamant that this was the right thing while everyone I ask for advice tells me it absolutely wasn't. Upon learning from Jonas, by old friend from the days of Harry, that Harry would be in fact visiting Dijon again in the foreseeable future with his new fiancée, I thought it was a good idea to reach out. I've heard through the grape vine that Harry's girl knows all about my indecent efforts while he was here last year, and, having met me and made a peaceable friendship before hand, she has, rightfully, written me off as both hoe and foe.


Now a woman in love, I repent. I also would like to be able to see the couple when they come, as I like them and had made, underneath all that romantic angst, a very nice friendship with Harry.


So I wrote her an "I'm sorry, I repent my sins, I understand your hatred, and demurely ask for your friendship" facebook message.
So far no response. I dunno, would you want to hear form the boyfriend trespassers of your past?

Fashion-Sense Cardio

Welp, I've discovered yet another way to waste time. 

Small town island girls understandably have some 

trouble holding their own on the streets of French 

cities when it comes to fashion savoir faire, so 

I've embraced polyvore. Users can create "sets" of 

clothing articles and accessories and browse the 

sets of other users to get inspired on their daily 

dress up. I'm terrible at it! But it seems like a 

good exercise in beefing up the fashion sense, which 

TMI had told me is.. lacking, so here's my first try. 

Good fun!

Spring in Dijon by foxomatic 

My Life and My Love are on Opposite Sides of the Planet Earth.

It's kinda weird that even after 14 months since this blog's birth and my plunge into Europe, I've neglected to address my most prevalent problem in my franco-phonic home away from home. Loneliness. While there have been some notable names who've dropped in an out of the picture, I've found the language barrier and lack of employment and/or physical student body have left me, for the most part, pining away in solitude in my attic apartment. Wondering at a loss what places I have to go, people I have to see, etc. Since meeting and falling in love with TMI I've become uncomfortably dependent on his company; passing my days waiting for him to come home, languishing alone and without motivation.

Certainly, things have got to change. TMI, no matter how much I love him, can't be worth spending my life waiting around. I know I should go back to Hawaii or the West coast and start a life there, I know it.. But leaving TMI would be like slowly chiseling through my own arm with a pocket knife- like that guy who was stuck in a ravine with his arm pinned under a boulder for several days. How do I do that?! Sack up and take the ouch, or stick it out for love? I wish option two were the answer but honestly I know I couldn't go another month, let alone nine, as we've been planning, like this. So I should go. But the little voice inside me yells "no, no! don't do it! He's the one you idiot, don't give him up for anything!!"

If only he'd made the compromise I was counting on and taken an internship in the Napa valley, these questions wouldn't be writhing around in my brain. Well, granted, at least I have something to think and complain about, and instructional videos on how to be lonely.

What is it With Guys and Porn?

The great mystery of modern relationships.

I, beknownst to those of you who know me or read my blog, am a borderline sex addict. (Namely in my current relationship, as I find my partner irresistible, delicious, and I'm in love with him.) Contrary to common relationships, I, the female, am the one regularly complaining that I want more sex. For the record, I'm cute, in shape, always 100% ready and rearing to go, and yet lately I feel I must always initiate and sometimes even ask for sex. All this, and here I discover he's watching porn while I take a shower.

Can someone explain this to me please? I doubt there is really a man in existence who ceases to watch the stuff while he's in a relationship, granted; but why? Especially when he may have a spunky lover like myself? And, if such is the unavoidable case, how do I manage to live with it and not take it personally??

Mom Says, "it's Usually the Woman Who Sacrifices"

It occurred to be while standing on the landing to my building, fumbling for my keys in desperation to get off the noisy, smoke filled sidewalk, just how much I'm willing to give up. TMI is coming home this evening with the news that he has agreed to take an internship here in France instead of on the West coast, as we had initially planned.

Several days ago and after months of trying, we recieved a postive email from a Napa Valley vineyard that wants TMI for his required dates. I should be celebrating, but, in this last week before TMI's deadline to secure an internship, he's suddenly deciding maybe he doesn't want to go for it. In a case of cold feet, fear of the unknown, and allure of the safe and secure, he's this very afternoon meeting with a wine maker in Beaune to discuss his internship.

I'm poised to stay with him. And, in doing so, giving up another year with my family, missing my brother's wedding, (mere months after I missed the birth of my nephew,) an opportunity to work, my friends, and my plans. More commonly called "everything."

Everything, and I am on the thresh hold of giving it for the man I love. -Which of course makes even the tiniest chance that he may not be the one a very real and very frightening danger, in light of the sacrifices.

Maybe it is always the woman's job to wait and to follow. -And, for the record, I would never ask TMI to do his internship on the West coast if I didn't believe it would effect his career for the better. Is it just my lot in life to go where he goes? And, if so, is the love going to be big enough a pay off? He does mean everything to me. But is right for me to give him everything?

Back in July I was apparently a much tougher cookie. I'd do well to listen to my own advice.

Sex and the Self

It's the beginning of week two back in France and I have been utterly awash with schoolwork as my first term of online graduate studies body-slams me into commencement. Still, I'm thrilled to be back with my much missed mate and safely installed in our rustic French attic.

Yesterday, however, in one of my episodes of insecurity, which come and go like stingy-pissy jelly fish on the tides, I got to thinking about sex. (Big news,I know.) And how much my addiction to it is pleasure based, and how much of it is nested in self validation. I'm comfortable with saying 80% of it is the healthier former, but I do catch myself in sexual encounters where my own enjoyment is totally shelved in place of the enjoyment of my partner. Sometimes forcibly out of the picture.

I'm inclined to think this isn't just me and may be part of the young feminine condition. ..Or maybe just me. At times my need for sex comes with a strong need for affirmation; that I am attractive and loved. I imagine this is going to go away with maturity but for now it has me puzzled. Do men ever find themselves in similar situations? Why or why not? And, if I'm not alone on this, why do some of us need sex to validate the self?