Into the Woods

I've been in quaint little Sauzet since Sunday mentally preparing for Christmas with someone else's family. It was a little rough the first day, but things are settling and I'm managing to get into the spirit. It's tough spending a Christmas cooped up indoors with the cold, rain and snow outside when I'm used to sunny mornings, tea on the porch, and Saturday beach trips between present wrapping.

Did you know that in France it's tradition to put your shoes under the tree for Santa to put candy and... oranges in?? Everyone here thinks I'm crazy for not knowing about it.

Today TMI and I went foraging in the cold winter woods above the village to take some clippings from pine trees and red berried bushes to decorate the home. While we were out there I'm pleased to say we couldn't resist the primal urge and made love like the cavemen before us pressed up against a frosty tree; keeping an eye out for mammoths, or.. hikers.

Also TMI's sister shares her brother's good looks and is making me very self conscious about my own physical appearance as she breezes around the house ever day. I think it's karma from how persistently indifferent I was to my brother's girlfriend the first several Christmases she spent with our family. The "I know she desires my approval but I'm going to stay completely smug in the knowledge that my brother is my brother regardless of what ladies may come in and out of his life" syndrome. For the record, she's now prego with my first and future nephew and I love her as part of the family, but still, I didn't make her acclimation easy. I can only hope TMI's sister accepts me without me having to pull the parental card just yet.

The Weekend, and the Story of B

I had the good fortune to spend the weekend yet again in the colorful South with TMI's family in Sauzet.

Between delicious and drawn out meals, we went on walks, runs, bike adventures and gallery visits, plus one outing to a river to swim around in the icy water. We made our usual constant and creative love on every rock, table, park bench, and physically possible place that turned up throughout the weekend.

Despite all this goodness, about half of the time, I was totally plagued by two extremes: A) I really love this guy and am insecure and think he's gonna break my heart and this makes me miserable, or, B) I'm not really in love with this guy, and, if I stay with him, I'm just missing out on something better and this also makes me miserable.

While problem A can be jotted up as typical insecurity and latent desire to keep a little turbulence in the romance, problem B is a little more complicated, and, well, embarrassing.

Last summer, when I first came to France and fell head over heals for the repulsively unattractive, smoking, and foie gras farmer, B, I somehow convinced myself I wanted to marry the guy and invited him to Hawaii to meet my family. I incessantly gushed to my parents about how great he was and how much I loved him. (uuugghghhh this makes me want to puke now) Then, he shows up in Hawaii, and, in the harsh light of my own reality: my family, the island where I grew up, my friends, my language, I saw B for what he really was: a completely wrong for me, stinky, dirty, and dull French guy who I could barely communicate with. I had to break his heart in a drawn out, pathetic, and hugely uncomfortable drama that continues to nauseate me to this day. The man had brought a diamond ring with him which he gifted me in front of the entire family christmas morning. Yeah. Messy. I no longer trust my own eyes, heart, or brain.

The B incident proves that I'm insane. So now, with christmas visible on the horizon and TMI and I discussing love, the prospect of him visiting me in the Pacific has surfaced and filled me with subsequent terror. I want to be in love, but I don't want a repeat!

One of Many

Remember this photo?

Twice. Just sayin.

Sex and Sentiments in the South

The town of Sauzet is too beautiful for words. The afternoon I arrived, I moved my hands affectionately over sun bleached stone walls, climbed some ancient steps, and looked out into the Rhone valley: Olive trees, lavender fields, and distant mountains. While I opened my mouth wide to try and breath the whole dream into my lungs, a french cat purred and bumped its head up under my chin. No joke, these are my most precious dreams realized, and the sight moved me to tears. TMI's family thinks I'm completely insane since I'm, in their ears and eyes, an illiterate emotional retard.

Meanwhile TMI and I have been doing what we do best: thinking far too much while "bumping like rabbits" on every solid object in the South of France. Honestly I've NEVER been with a guy with such a drive. Every time he touches me the next thing I know I'm being thrown into a bush, into a closet, onto a table, under an olive tree or into a lavender patch. I thought the "wanna go again" line 3 minutes after sex only happened in movies and fanfictions written by blushing pre-teens, but evidently, it also happens in the South of France.

All the sexual energy is leaving us rather frustrated however because, last night, we were able to bring to light a sentiment shared between the two of us that would damper even the most fervent of sex drives. While we seem to be growing uncomfortably attached to one another, (aka becoming possessive, or insecure, or jealous, or worried) we aren't falling in love- the usual payback for the attachment troubles.

In final words I'm growing fatter than ever and TMI's sexy chic mom is calling the crowd into the kitchen for tiramisu. Plus bientot