DDF

Saturday, 8 pm, a terrace, a pint, a friend I haven’t seen for ages, who works in Germany. He was about to tell me something about his sex life, so for more privacy, we decided to switch to English, hoping nobody would understand us.

- You know Alice, I changed a lot during this PhD. I mean, I was introvert, shy before, particularly in my love life, but I realised one thing, you just need to be confident. If you want to have sex, you just need to show self-confidence. When I decided to join this “young council” that organises parties, I started to feel good about myself and so I had no more problem to find partners, Martin said.

-Yeah, but, there’re also circumstances. You would not find anyone if you went to a “bridge club”, well, if you don’t like cougars. For example, if any girl wants to have sex, she goes to a club. It’s the DDF rule, Drink, Dance, and Fuck. Clubs are tanks, for male and female, you look, you pick, you enjoy. Although sometimes you lose BIG TIME, and you experience the walk of shame the day after, I stated.

And then, and then something I really didn’t expect happened.

- Scuse me guys, I didn’t mean to spy, but I heard you speaking English and I’m doing a PhD too, here, I’m from Kentucky so…

Off course, off course an American guy would hear us talking in English, it was so meant to happen. I mean, when I was in California I remembered how shocked I was by the ability of American people to chit-chat with anybody, about anything. This guy was a perfect example of that. And off course, he was doing a PhD, like us. And off course, he started to talk to us when I mentioned how easy it was for girls to pick up a guy…

It turned out he was a very nice guy. He plays the banjo, composes, sings, knows chemistry, biotech and he’s quite funny. And I could check the DDF rule. We went to a little concert, we danced,  we kissed and you know the rest.

He’s my first American! Not that I keep track of nationalities… Well… To be honest… I kinda do! And when I travel, from all the cities I went to, I always try to bring back a magnet. It’s a little souvenir you can find anywhere, easy to stock, and it helps me to remember where I went. It’s a sort of checklist that brings back memories. I start to think that I should do the same with guys…

When the Whynot strikes again…

It’s very surprising how differently homosexuality is perceived for and by women or men. Seriously, ask your straight men friends, none or few have ever thought of being gay, or tried once with a guy. No way, I mean, being gay? Nah man, I don’t do gay, I’m not in this kinda stuff, I love too much pussies. It seems that for men, you’re either gay or straight, and you stay focused, ok?

Now ask your women friends. I believe you’d be surprised by the number of them who tried once, who wondered, who wouldn’t mind kissing another woman, who are tempted…And don’t tell me it’s because women are all about sweet, smooth, nice, gentle, etc… I mean, who wants to f..k a Teddy bear, hun? EXACT, nobody.

I’m not analysing anything here, I have no idea why is it so different for women or for men. Maybe it comes from the Teddy bear after all… Or maybe from the fact that during teenage years, girls are very very close, they see each other naked, they hug a lot, etc… Or perhaps it’s the universal feeling that two women together, it’s kinda of sweet, while two men together, it’s… painful? brutal?

Anyway, my point is, I complain a lot about guys, but I could do EXACTLY the same with girls. They’re even worse. One advice: if you’re not sure about being your sexuality, kiss a lesbian, and see if you can bear the pressure she puts on you. The first time I kissed a girl, she was like me, a teenager, and we didn’t know why we did that, it was nothing. It turns out she’s happily married with two kids, I turned myself to boys (for the success you know), we were just trying stuff. So why suddenly, I had the desire to kiss a woman? I have no idea. Well, the truth is, I was in a party and in my Whynot mood. Unfortunately, this party was a bit weird, the ok guys were taken and the single ones were obviously so horny that they could do it with a g… No no no let’s not talk about that.

So yes, I started to drink and here was a beautiful girl, interesting, charming, who asked me to dance with her, first clue. She was leading the Rock’n roll, baby, second clue. She told me she was a lesbian, third and final clue. And then she kissed me, like that, out of nowhere. Well, maybe not completely out of nowhere. The thing is, for me, it was just a fling, a one-night thing, a let’s-get’crazy-before-this-night-ends… But not for her. She was jealous when I was talking to guys, angry because I didn’t spend the whole time with her, and then she texted me like crazy. Oh man, I don’t know what I’ve done! I’m stuck, she surely thinks something is going on when I just want to say ciao! Aaaaarrrrggghhh….

from the website: http://www.roflzoo.com/oh-my-god!-leave-me-alone.html

Where is the F..k?

We learn from the very beginning...

I don’t know when things changed, or if they were ever true. I mean, I always thought guys were continually horny. Everybody knows the Legend, it says “give your man food and sex, and he will be happy”. After years of practice, generations of women have passed the word from mother to daughter, aunt to niece, grandmother to granddaughter. Of course, some variations exist, in Russia it’s more vodka&sex for instance. But still, one thing is always there : sex.

So, I must say I was quite puzzled when a guy said to me “stop, I don’t fancy”. The first thing I thought was “OMG! I became so ugly he doesn’t want me anymore! Aaaaaahhh, I didn’t think this moment will come before I have three kids and 50 kg to lose!!! Aaaaaaahhh I’m gonna die alone!”, the second thing was “Maybe he’s hungry?!”. I was ever more confused when I realised it was none of the above. He was just not in the mood.

Another time, another date. I was with my sex buddy, Thomas, at his place. Thomas and me had a deal, clear and simple: we would have sex until I find someone to be willing to be in a relationship with me. We were sex friends, regularly having dinner and sex when we wanted (again, food and sex, the best combo). I never had any feeling for him, and he hadn’t for me, except friendship (with benefits). So you can imagine how baffled I was when, while I was licking his ear and putting my hand in his …. he said “Slow down, I can’t believe how horny you are!”. Gah.

WTF????

I’m not the only one facing the problem, my friend Emily had exactly the same issue with one of her date,  Gregorio. Basically, she was the one asking for some action, him being reluctant from time to time. He was simply not that interested. But, from what I know, it’not even because sex was not good, actually they really did a good job together, so why?

Dude, why are you not that into it? How come? Dear Lord, Sweet Jesus, I don’t believe in God but please tell me when guys started to complain about girls being turned on. Soon dogs will say no to a ball, cats will stop being cute and pandas will start eating something else than bamboo (and maybe survive).

I really don’t know what I’ll teach my kids. Well, if I ever become a mum, obviously I don’t seem to be on the right track, if I can’t even get someone into my pants.

Oh God!! It's exactly how I feel!

Break time

I hate break-ups. This is a really stupid sentence, isn’t it? a bit like “I don’t like hospital”. Really?? Why? It’s so much fun to be sick and/or dying in a place which smells like detergent and pee and gives you nosocomial infections! It’s awesome! Of course we don’t like hospital. Actually you should be worried if someone says “I like hospital”. Because if he’s not a doctor or a coroner, he’s probably mental. Or a psycopath.

Did I ever tell you I like to play with screwdrivers?

But today I hate break-ups. It’s like going to the dentist, you know you have to go there, but you dread the moment, so you wait until the pain is unbearable. Although now they have anesthetic so it’s not that much fun. I remember, when I was a kid, my dentist used to say “raise your hands if it’s too painful”. Hahaha. You can’t really raise it all the time, can you ? But after that he always gave me a little toy, I was so happy! Now there’s no more toy, except the credit card machine. And that is painful, even with anesthetic.

Have you ever tried to smile while someone is twisting your mouth? Obviously she did!

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, I hate break-ups. If the guy splits up with you, you wonder why???? What’s wrong with me??? Too hairy, too kind, too stupid, too clever, too bitchy, not enough bitchy, too small, too tall, too fat, too thin, not independent enough, too feminist, too independent, not enough outgoing, too extravert, too shy, not pretty enough, too complicated, not enough romantic??? Why?

No you're not old! Adopt me!

If you break-up, you wonder Why??? Why I don’t find him attractive while he’s really into me and he wants to be with me for once someone really likes me why I can’t like him back maybe I could try a little longer because I need to find a man before I’m 40 otherwise I will never have kids Oh My God only 100 years before I’m 40 I cannot have my first flat/dog/kid after 40… AAAaaaaaaahhhhh…. I will die alone, stroking cats in front of HollyOaks and they’ll know I’m dead only because I stink.

There’s never a winner. So, you guessed, I broke up with Giovanni. One of the main reason is that he was not generous. And I mean in a large sense, he was stingy but I can live with that (barely, I confess). I mean that every single compliment cost him a LOT. You know, in my last post, when we had the romantic moment about kissing, well it was probably the only time he said something nice to me. Usually he complained. A LOT. He was talking a LOT as well. And he would NEVER ask me any question related to me. Of course he would ask my opinion about something he did/does/wants to do. But “how are you” was not coming spontaneously to his mouth, I had to ask him to ask me the question. And he called me stupid quite a few times.

No comment.

So I was mad at him, I split up, I felt relieved. For the first 30 sec. And then, the magic operates, and you regret. Do you remember the numerous moment you thought “he’s really a jerk”? No. Instead, you recall all the wonderful times you bond over a delicious glass of wine, not remembering he burped five minutes before or he ate with his mouth open.

There’s never a winner. Che palle Alice, at least you will not divorce him at 45 with three kids who speaks italian all the time to annoy you because you cannot understand.

The first time

Yes I wanted to write every week, and no it’s not possible. Let’s try twice a month?

Did I tell you about my new date? Of course I did. Well, we were walking along the Thames with Giovanni (he’s italian, mamma mia ) and then we stopped, kissed, and talked:

- “I think I just had the best kiss of my life, said Giovanni

- Oh dear, I’m glad, (I blushed).

- You are a very good kisser, I love the way you kiss me,

- It’s one skill I have, I should put it on my CV,

- Don’t advertise it too much, please.”

We laughed. And kissed, of course.

It made me think of my first kiss. I was 14, on a school trip, and I didn’t care about the guy at all. Well, he didn’t care about me neither. We basically just wanted to know how it felt. And I loved it, even with my braces.

What a lovely smile!

• The first time someone touched my boobs, I felt nothing. The second time neither. I’m non-breast-sensitive girl.

• The first time I saw porn I was 14, and I laughed a lot.

• The first time I almost had sex, we stopped because we didn’t have condoms and nobody wanted to give me one because it’s not right to do it at a party while everyone is dancing on “I’m a barbie girl, in a barbie world”. We were clever kids. The second time I almost had sex, the guy finished himself in the bathroom, just next to the bedroom, enough to say I dumped him the next day. The third time I almost had sex, well, we did have sex, after few attempts .

• The first time I read a book about sex (a serious one, not the Kamasutra), I learned girls could have an orgasm while horse riding, with a shower head, or with a massage. I never figured out if it was true.

• The first time I went to the cinema on a date, I spent the entire movie wishing him to take my hand (it was so loose, I was almost leaning on the guy). He didn’t. Weirdly, I do remember the title of the movie, but not the story .

• The first time I gave a blow-job, my jaw ached for days. The second time I learned how to use my hands as well.

• The first time I had a one-night stand, I hated myself and I cried. The second time, it was one of the most romantic nights of my life.

• The first time I broke up with someone I felt like shit. It doesn’t get better the next times, it’s just different ways of feeling depressed. Humans are very imaginative for feeling sorry about themselves.

• The first time I had sex while drunk, I threw up. The second time I avoided the “pousse-café” (vicious liquor you have at the end of the meal which is supposed to help you to digest).

That’s it, I’m old enough to have a lot of first times. And second times. And even third, fourth and fifth. Yay, I should feel happy, I’m supposed to be in my Prime.

Argument

Berlin, November 2009, a nice German restaurant in the city center, 3 girls, one (or two?)

lecker!

bottle of wine.

-”Look how cute these two guys are! Said Gaby (Gabriella).

-True, where are they from? From what I heard when we were outside, they speak Spanish, spotted Emily.

- Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God!! I cannot resist Spanish!!!! I confessed.

- Come on Alice, you can’t speak a word of Spanish, and they’re clearly tourists with a poor English, sighed Emily.

-I can say “hola guapo”, which is probably enough for my purpose, I joked.

-Well, I agree with Alice on this one, if their argument is as big as the sausage on my plate, I don’t need them to talk, suggested Gaby.

And we laughed. And then I understood that despite a difficult start in London, I had found two true friends. When do you know the difference between just friends and very good ones? For me it’s when I can tell whatever I want, I don’t feel judged. And when I say whatever, you all understood that I meant talking of the most intimate thing you do, the thing that English people call you-know-what (if they even dare to talk about it) : Sex. I love talking about guys (as you noticed), and what is more revealing about a guy than his skills in the bedroom-sport?

Unfortunately, most of the time, I meet my friends in Pubs, restaurants, bars, cafes, where it’s very uncomfortable to talk about a guy’s penis. So we found a way, we call it their “argument”. Still, it was tricky to reply to the question “how is his argument?” by something more discreet than “small”, “big”, or “huge”. I had a solution.

Oh deer, a horse!

Have you ever read the Kamasutra? When I turned 18, although I was still an innocent and studious girl, some of my friends found it funny to offer me a short version of it. I must say I was surprised to find it interesting (I see your smile, I’m not talking about the drawings, dirty minds ). Maybe because of the name of the author (Vatsyayana) which I find very difficult to pronounce (and not to laugh), the sex positions are all hilariously drawn and almost impossible to perform. Come on, have you seen the horse one??? You need 18 people for this, including 2 couples of dwarfs and 2 giants. But other than that, there’s a whole philosophy about relationships, with seperate sections for the man and the woman (which becomes a bit useless in the case of homosexual couples, sorry guys). Although my feminist side was hurt when I read that the woman needed to be a talented cook, dressmaker, musician, painter, while the man had to be strong, wealthy and respected, I learned in this book that there were 3 types of women: deer, mare or elephant. And so, three type of men: hare, bull and horse. Then, Vatsyayana (hehehe) explains that life might be too difficult if you are a deer and you want to mate with a horse (painful). Or if you are an elephant and want to mate with a hare (Oo… Nope, I don’t feel anything).

From that, we now have a nice conversations about “arguments”, “bedroom sport” and a zoo: “Oh my God he’s not a horse, he’s a bear!!!!”, “Well, I’m happy he’s not a hamster”.

Updated

I haven’t written for while here. I could blame the amount of work I have. Or the constipation problem of my cat. I haven’t even been on holiday. No, the sad truth is I started to date someone again.

Of course, my beloved friend Zoe (who warned me a quite few times about my crazy behavior about guys) said:

-”Again? Who is it this time? Do you like him at least?

- Yes I do, well, I didn’t start anything, it’s not my fault, please, believe me…”

Nobody twisted my arms, obviously. I could have easily refused to kiss him, told him to go away or to come back when I’m not desperate. But who would give up on hope? There’s always hope. “Love iz everyssing, wee must find love” as my fellow countryman Eric Cantona would say.

Which means (in an obscure language), that starting dating someone is always nice; because despite the baggage we carry, the expectations we build, you never know how it will be, even though most love stories end badly.

However, except the excitement, there is a lot of annoying things about the first dates, particularly for us, women of the world.

• The hair. I don’t for you, but for me my hair is one of my best feature. So, of course, no way he can see me with dirty greasy hair. Hence the question of how many times can I wash it during the week, if I go out on monday and tuesday, will it still be ok? How does it look when it’s loose (too untidy?) and tied up (too strict?) Ponytail (too studious?) Braid (too little house on the prairie?) ????
• Hairsssss. Despite what I mentioned earlier, I’m not that hairy. BUT still, we, women, have a lot of hairs to care about. Plucking the eyebrows, the hair nose, ears, shaving the legs, the armpits, waxing the bikini, FOR GOD’S SAKE why do we need so much of it????
• The clothes. Never twice the same outfit, at least in the first few weeks (or months if you are rich).
• The period. Zoe, you know what I will say, beeing a woman is hard. Particularly when the guy doesn’t have a bin in his bathroom. HUGE MISTAKE.
• The underwears. Forget your mummy nice large but comfy knickers. Match the top with the bottom every time you see him, you never know how the night will end.
• The make up. Too little, it’s like you don’t have any. Too much, and you look like a whore. It’s the same rule for the cleavage.
• The handbag. Too little, it cannot contain your change of clothes if you spend the night at his, your makeup, your deodorant, your wallet, your phone(s), your book, your pen(s), your tissues, your water bottle etc… But if it’s too big, you look like a homeless gipsy, travelling around with your house (tortoise powah!!!!).
• The jewellery. Necklace, earings, bracelets, rings, you can combine two or three of these (if 1 of them is very discreet) BUT not the 4 of them, you will look like a Christmas tree.

And it can go on and on and on… And I’m not even talking about all the possible meanings of messages, texts, talks we love to interprate when the guy just said “hello” instead of “good morning”. The most amazing thing is, I still don’t know if the guy just don’t give a shit about all these, or if he thinks it’s all natural. Yeah man, all girls are born with makeup and a sense of fashion.