YES, I spent the afternoon with a handsome frenchie. Yes he bought me some of the famous Berthillion ice cream and yes we kissed ever so sweetly on the bridge with all the locks. (The one where couples write their initials on each one and then throw the key in to the seine. How sickly sweet.)
We met at the Pyramide at the Louvre and blushed and laughed for an hour in a street side cafe nearby, then circumvented the more romantic and interesting sights of the Paris. It was lovely and much much much needed by a romantic animal like myself, but, alas, he left me at the metro where I began my path back to Dijon. I think we're too long distance for success. But I'll happily waste calories clinging to some small shreds of hope that I'll see him again for more of the above.
How did I meet this guy again? Perhaps you are wondering. Via online dating. FOR SHAME!!!!
I know, I know. But I am a girl abroad, after all. Actually I receive an obscene amount of messages every day from less than suitable male and female celebataries, so par my mom's advice, I've decided to start a blog to post the more amusing efforts to break the cybernetic ice. Ye can find its fetal form here: Desperate Men's Messages. Sneaky!
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