Little Miss Awkward

I just can’t help it!!

Moral Dilemma

cig.jpg I have not posted here for a while because the proverbial shit has hit the fan in regards to housemate from hell but will save that for another post.

Would you assist a pregnant woman light a cig? Because I did. Everybody and anybody knows that smoking is bad for you in normal circumstances, therefore it sure as hell ain’t good for an unborn child. So when a six month pregnant lady asked me for a light, I could have lied and said I didn’t have one but I didn’t. I didn’t just give her a light, I flicked the bloody thing alight for her. She was extremely grateful and I was extremely unhappy.  In normal circumstances I would have been happy to ‘help’ but I felt really shitty about this. I am sure if I did not give her a light she would have gotten it from somewhere else. Heck she could have probably afforded the 20cents to buy a box of matches but I still felt uneasy about lighting up for her.

Don’t get me wrong I am not being judgemental, as I know it is not one of the easiest of habits to give up. Personally if I were preggers and desperately needed a fag, I would totally do it in secret, you know have a sneaky one when no one is looking (but hopefully that will never be the case). This lady just sat outside the cafe, cig in one hand, coffee in another, baby bump in the middle and just puffed away.

She thanked me a lot and said I was tres gentil and I replied pas probleme but there was a problem, I facilitated this!!


October 30, 2007 Posted by | Blogroll, France, Rant, Uncategorized | 4 Comments

Grrrrr Families..

wedding.jpg When I started in the blogging world, I wrote a post about the pressure from mother dearest to find myself a fella to settle down and have lots of sugar babies with. Now my sister has jumped on the bandwagon. What is it with these people? I sense the panic in their voices when they ask why I haven’t met anyone nice to live in matrimonal hell with.

Don’t get me wrong I am sure marriage is lovely and all that, but I am feel that these things happen when the time is right and when it is meant to happen.  I am sure we each know off someone (tends to be ladies, sorry for betraying the sisterhood but it is true) who really really wants to get married or find the one so badly that the desperation oozes out of their pores. You know the type of person that sees EVERY single man as a potential hubby, even the local Catholic priest. Desperation is not pretty and men can smell it a mile off. 

I am not at that stage yet and pray that I will never get there but people telling me at what stage I should be in my life purely based on my age is seriously pissing me off. Heck it is 2007, people no longer have to get married at 14 and be expecting their 7th child by the time they are 24 – jeez.

I know, I know they are only on my case because they care. There is a very fine line between caring and being a royal pain the backside. Rant over!!

October 21, 2007 Posted by | Blogroll, Family, Rant, Romance, Uncategorized | 8 Comments

The Actual Date

yinyang.jpg After being cornered at the bank, Jean asked me to go for a drink. I said sure (as if) and that we can meet up next weekend sometime (as I said the 12th of never). He knew my MO, he wasn’t happy with that non-concrete (brush off) arrangement. So he suggests Monday, I say I am working late, he says great because he is working late too (balls). He gave me a time, and I said OK (why oh why?). He will text me on the day for a location. We do bises (French two cheek kiss) and bid each other farewell.

On Monday as promised (threathened) he texts for a location and I give him a place. I so did not want to go, I was tempted to pull a no show but I actually have some scrupples and know that I can’t. And as housemate (we have made up, kinda) suggested just go and get it over and done with. Prior to date he sends me a text stating he was looking forward to seeing me and he sends me hot kisses (gulp). I get this feeling I am going to need hands like an octopus to fight off this one. Why am I going? If I was back home this sort of carry on would not have gotten this far. Why am I making allowances because he speaks a different language? Speaking of languages, what kind of conversation are we going to have?

Too late to worry about that now, as I head off to meet him. I arrive late (hoping he is the impatient type or has the good sense to stand me up), he is there waiting for me. We head off to the bar. Drinks are ordered. We sit down and proceed to have a conversation, which is surprisingly interesting and dare I say it pleasant. The guy sitting opposite is such a different one from the text messages. He is normal, charming and interesting. The only problem was occasionally catching his eyes darting down to my breast area. But that is not the end of the world, he is a guy after all (sorry guys). At the end he asks if he can call me again, I say sure (still not totally won over but not repulsed). He does not try it on, just a customary kiss on the cheek (bonus points for him).

He sends me a text after the date to thank me for the evening and he sincerely hopes that we meet again (which was nice) but he ends the text by sending me sensual kisses (dude come on, stop with this). It reminded me why I didn’t like him in the first place. Following day he sends me text asking how my day was and of course ‘big kisses’. I reply saying it was fine and how was his? That was it. That was totally it. A minute later I receive a text saying his day was perfect and wait for it he adds, ‘Tu aimerais faire l’amour avec moi….? (wtf??????????????). I think even non-French speakers can figure out what this means but just in case he asks ‘Would you like to make love with me?’. All I asked was how his day was. It scares me to think of what he would have said if I asked something less random. Jeez I was shocked. I ask my housemate is this normal. Is this a French-thing? He laughs and says at least the guy is honest and upfront about what he wants.

I reply by asking him if he was serious and of course to tell him- hell naw. He replies, he is serious as he is very attracted to me. Even more outraged, I send him a text asking if he thinks I am easy, and if this is normal for him, it isn’t for me. He replies saying he didn’t say that but he just wanted to say how I do it for him (it was written in French and a bit hard to translate). He continues by adding that he is sorry to have angered me and he wishes me good night and of course ‘kisses’.

Housemate seems to think that he was just letting me know that he really liked me and it was forward but he might not have meant any harm. However I was pissed off. What really pisses me off was in person he was okay, quite okay in fact. The thought of seeing him again didn’t displease me. The cheeky sod had the nerve to tell me on our date that he is not the kind of guy that is all about sex, he prefers sensual things. I fell for that bollocks. To be honest I don’t know what I thought, I guess I just put it down to French guy speak. Anyway he hasn’t tried to contact me and I have to be totally honest with you, I am a bit disappointed (ashamed to admit this). I have to explain the disappointment because if housemate was right and he really liked me so much, an attempt at another apology would have proved that (does this make any sense?). But the fact he has made no contact just means that from day one, all the little slimy toad (no pun intended here) wanted was to get into my knickers.  

Am I overreacting?

October 10, 2007 Posted by | Blogroll, France, Rant, Romance | 8 Comments

The Date

couple.jpg Before telling you about The Date, I guess I should tell you how we met………..

Once upon a time (a month or so ago to be more precise), on a warm crisp summer’s day (it was bloody boiling) I was running late for work (as usual) and just getting into my car, when a mystery man came up to my car window (random weirdo) and started talking to me. A minute ago he was in front of me making a phone call on the pavement and next thing he was trying to engage me in conversation. I was clearly in a hurry and flustered (well, sweating like the Devil in church)and wasn’t very interested in what he was saying (get lost, freak).

Mystery man then said something along the lines of “You are very beautiful and I would like to buy you a drink sometime”(liar, liar your pants on fire – streams of sweat beads and manky hair, do not make a fair maiden). He asks for my number. In a moment of haziness, mid rush, frustration, confusion I hand over my number and forget to mix up the digits a little.

An hour or so later, receive a text message (in French)  from mystery man saying he was very happy to meet my acquaintance and was looking forward to seeing my beautiful face again. Oh gosh (how creepy and OTT). Subsequent text messages from him was received suggesting meeting dates and times and always ending with declarations of tenderness or something equally as gushy (pass me the sick bucket). I don’t know maybe all this waxing lyrical was the norm in this part of the world. I mean I am living in a country renowned for amour and such. His texts were swiftly replied with my various declarations of illness, work travel, UK travel (Willy fog had nothing on me in the travelling stakes) and general busy-ness (in other words we were going to meet on the 12th of never). From time to time I would get a text from him asking about my wellbeing (take the hint and delete my number already).

I move to the neighbourhood were I bumped into Jean (guess I ought to give him a name as this stage). Last week, I walked into the bank to withdraw some cash and I notice a man across the pedestrian crossing looking in my direction. It took me a few seconds to figure out it was him (shit, shit, shit – why did I have to go to the cash machine at this point in time? It is like bloody Sliding Doors). I notice him crossing back to my side of the road (shit, shit, shit, bugger) and notice him wait for me to come out of the bank (bloody hell). I come out of the bank, and he says hi and asks if I remember him(how can I forget, you stalker). I say hi and tell him that I do remember him (you never forget your first stalker).

To be continued…………………………………..

October 9, 2007 Posted by | Blogroll, France, Romance, Uncategorized, Work | 7 Comments

The honeymoon is over

fight.jpg I knew it, I just knew it. Moving in with cute guy was a massive mistake. As with most things all that glitters is not gold. My cute housemate has transformed into a chauvinistic, selfish and moody human being. After I moved in, he explained to me why he and his girlfriend broke up. It transpires that for the majority of their relationship, he seemed to have the upper hand and he made the decisions. His girlfriend was not to be very confident in herself but there came a point in her job where she was forced to take on more responsibility and she saw that she was able to take the initiative and this gave her a new found strength and confidence. This renewed self assurance did not go down well with my housemate. As he put it ‘I did not know what was going on’?

Anyway it seems that I have an ego maniac on my hands. He doesn’t like it when you disagree with him, he raises his voice when you question something he says, he is patronising and he is beyond selfish.

Today we had what I call a row. I mean four weeks after moving in, is this normal? We argued because I was in the kitchen talking to him, as he was washing the dishes (something he rarely does). After he had finished washing the dishes, he switches the kitchen light and walks off. This wouldn’t have been a problem if I wasn’t still in the kitchen talking. I say to him in a mocking way that is so typical of him, he is done so screw everything else around. Just like the other day, I was watching the TV and he came in the room rebooted the system without saying a word and just walked off. I sit there open mouthed, he offers no explanation. So when I bring it up to him, he raises his voices as we to and fro with each other. He eventually says ‘well what I needed to do was more important than what you were watching’. I couldn’t believe my ears.

We had a toilet incident a few days ago. There was a toilet blockage which meant we couldn’t use the loo. Being me, I wanted to try and fix it myself, as calling out a plumber would cost a lot of money. I ask him to give me a wire hanger to see if I could do something, he says there is nothing I can do, I insist I want to try, he gives me a whole speech about being stubborn, he raises his voice telling me there is nothing I can do. When I do try with the wire hanger and fails, he smugly asks me ‘Did you fix it?’, and goes on to give me a lecture on if he told me jumping off a balcony was dangerous, would I do it? Oh yeah fixing blocked toilets and jumping off balconies are one of the same. Dickhead. He calls out a plumber.

With his stupid smug face still playing in my head, the next day did some research went to the local DIY store, bought some supplies and fixed the goddam toilet myself. Sent him a text at work, ‘Cancel the plumber, I have fixed the toilet’. God it felt so good. I felt like Goliath. I knew he felt like a dick (so he should) because he never mentioned it, or asked how I fixed it till today. During our argument he mentions it and since he brought it up, I made sure I drummed it in his head that I, yes I fixed it. I also mentioned it was nothing like jumping off a balcony – childish I know but couldn’t help it. The shithead was just asking for it.

I like the location, and don’t really want (or can afford) to move out but I am not sure how long I can carry on leaving with this twat. It can be a blessing moving into someone else’s space as you are moving into an established set-up but it is also a pain in the arse because there is this thing that although you pay half the rent, it is still their space.

ps: Did I mention that when I make dinner, I make enough so that he has some, he has never said ‘Thank you’. The only time he gave any words of appreciation was the first time when he mentioned that it was good and that maybe I should be in charge of the kitchen (He said this in jest!!)

October 4, 2007 Posted by | Blogroll, France, Rant, Romance, Uncategorized | 7 Comments