Marco Polo

Marco Polo and the search for a new world and love. And yes, sometimes a fish out of water. Thats me more often than not. So heres what Ive gotten myself into recently...

We met. We saw. We met again. Et voila. That was it.

Yes him. The Marseille guy. He is not only now my wonderfully sweet and sexy boyfriend, but he is also now living with me. Chez Diane has very quickly become chez nous. What can I say? Thats how I roll.

There are a million reasons why this is a very bad idea, but there is also a strong handful as to why this can be good. Im not going to pro and con list here so lets just review some things that we know to be true on both sides, 1 thru 10 in no particular order.

1. Regular sex is good. A live-in boyfriend provides frequent, uninhibited sex.

2. I can be psycho and crazy. Its possible I lose my shit, and he and the relationship are out the door next week.

3.You always have someone to eat dinner with, have impromptu dance party with, and wake up next to.

4. He speaks French and English, hence he can read my mail for me and help me with those a**holes that work in French administration.

5. He goes to school all day so I still have my afternoons of Leisure all to myself.

6.My Mom called me a "cougar" and although offended, everytime I think about it, I laugh. (btw-hes 26 people. get your heads out of the gutter. im not Mary Kay Laterneau or anything)

7. Im generous to a fault, but I also hate to share. I usually prefer to buy you your own so I can keep mine to myself. Spoiled much? maybe. But lets look at this as a win-win, not me being a brat.

8. The only other time I lived with a man, was when my ex moved in with me after 4 days. I think this is the only way I know how to do it. (or not do it, but lets think positive;)

9. Im staying in Paris a bit longer than expected, so this is happily substituting as the next adventure until the rest of the plan unfolds.

10. I think we're in Love.

aaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwww

Debauchery, Pornography etc etc

Lets talk weekend shall we? This is where I would ideally let someone who could accurately recount the events of the past few days step in, but im the writer. So here goes...

It started out as an innocent Karaoke experience with some French, german,a couple polish and an american to boot. soon to follow was what turned into a weekend of debauchery, pornography and photography.

Lets go back. a few weeks ago, my friend michaela suggested i come with her to Karaoke at someIrish pub in Republique. she says,"its really fun, you'll love it!"

So of course most of you know my response."Have we met?"

But my new years resolutuon was to try new things, so after a year and a half in Paris, i guess my number was up, so to speak.

So head held low, i accompany my friend to Corcorans for Karaoke. Ok- straight to the bar. I start with a large beer, but quickly realize that the alocohol percent there is just not gonna cut it. i quickly switch to a vodka redbull. afterall, you need to be quick on your game to read all those colored letters flashing by with unknown lyrics, but a chorus you could sing deaf and blind.

None of this relevant however, because frankly,i dont sing. This was quickly discovered and fairly acknlowged by all those in the now growing group of regiular karaoke-ers in my presence. BUT what i CAN do my friends, is motivate a fucking crowd. I just sort of smile and dance along the perimeter with my hands in the air. this is better for me. so its like im participating without actually comitting. (note: see Love life)

Anyway, karaoke was actually very cool. a thursday must do. cool people, good friends, a highly energetic drink mix and a mirophone. nuff said. Thursdays are Karaoke night. its 2009, people.

Ok so shoot to 3 weeks later. My friend Olga has her boyfriend in town from Marseille with a few of his buddies. "The Marseille Crew." This is important to note because this group single handedly changed my perception of french men.They were funny, nice, handome,charming, open...etc.Bravo moms of Marseilles-you did good ladies!

Lets get to the debauchery shall we? The boys arrived just in time for karaoke on Thursday and fun times had by all. Saturday turned into what i could best describe as "my time as a Polish Vodka souvenir. " Never in my life have I continued with shots of vodka one after another and another. People I love vodka. Im a believer. dont underestimate the Poles. They will bring it. Hard. Needless to say my saturday ended with about 10 people leaving the apartment around 6am, and about 2 people staying. She got some. oh yes she did.

She got some again sunday.

And Monday.

But lets go back to sunday. I offered a small apero to the crew at my house in the next afternoon just to laugh and recap and think about all the other things we have going for us in our lives aside from alocoholism. (ive found this a great retreat and zen- some would compare it to Yoga or Pilates, but i prefer the "drink through it method")

So the nice glass of white wine eventually turned into yes you guessed it, vodka shots. Clothes are coming off, dancing on the couch, on the ceiling, pirate swords, headbands, blindfolds and "the lift" all come into play. Its pure filth. And as i looked around to this group from atop my wicker bench, I felt so proud. here they are. The smiling, the shining, the true, and well yes, the drunk.

Sunday turned into monday and there I was, just a (un)mindful lady of leisure, hungover with breakky in bed from marseille guy, and a (big)handful of cryptonite.