Le Respect, la Relation, et le Risqué

Dad I know you read my blog from time to time and this is one of those posts that I ask you avert your eyes and skip over. Seriously.

Keeping an anonymous blog is harder than one may think. That said, I want to again address something I mentioned lightly before. Respect, and the risque. Can we objectify in the bedroom and retain respect in a relationship? Specifically, must we only make love to stay in love, or can we also have sex? Where is the correct medium between slipping into the banal and crashing into the unacceptable?

I'm currently in a very sexual relationship, and I find myself regularly conflicted about what's the most healthy for us. I worry that if we don't have enough sex, or enough exciting sex, things will get boring and we'll cool off into a typical long term; or that we'll go too far and loose a necessary respect for one another. I'm not sure if the later is even possible - granted I haven't seen signs of it, but, (and now for the not-dad-safe sentence) could any amount of oral or anal sex somehow skew our positive feelings for each other? Admittedly, we aren't worshipping one another in these situations; we're objectifying one another. In spite of how much we enjoy it, I can't decide if this is wildly healthy or flat out detrimental.

On the other end of the spectrum, a friend who volunteers with me in my little Dijonaise cafe faces relationship problems amusingly inverse to my own. She's passionately God-fearing, and refuses to have sex, or even extensive physical contact, before marriage. (I know, I know! I thought France was predominantly devoid of that!) This is a kind of love I know nothing about, and, for that matter, can't even begin to imagine. Sex is such an immense part of romantic connection; an integral facet of truly knowing someone, and the final frontier of openness and trust to your partner. Yet she, like me,

-I just found chocolate smeared on my keyboard and have no idea how it got there-

Yet she, like me, spends hours hoing, humming, and heart-aching over what she believes is love.

How much does sex define a relationship? Does it make it or break it? And, if it's such a powerful element, as I believe it to be, can it govern our feelings outside of the bedroom?

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.