A Good Marriage

Musings of the Mind · Paris · by La Yummy Mummy

Today, I decided to write about my obvious area of expertise – marriage.

Yeah, right.. Let’s not got that far. However, I did attempt to diversify our content by providing some advice for a – my rare readers who are hitched and b – all of you single ladies who aspire to one day be hitched, and happen to wonder what exactly the miracle formula to a successful marriage entails. Hence, I have solicited the advice of somebody far more apt in this regard – my best friend, the wife of my hubby-in-law, and the author of the only Mommy blog you will EVER see me read – La Yummy Mummy.

FYI – This technique is rather brilliant and can also be practiced with boyfriends, friends and colleagues alike. If applied regularly, can ensure eternal peace in your life.

Street Fighter (Gangs of Marais)

Musings of the Mind · Paris · by Marina Khorosh

Exactly one year ago, I got into my first street fight.

No, I did not weave my way into a passionate love triangle, or fall subject of a dramatic mugging. Instead, I simply got in way over my head with a bunch of drunken French fools.

Let’s backtrack. It was February of last year, and Muse and I were having dinner with a few friends at Le Dauphin in the 11^th. Amongst them were: a fashion designer, his (slightly more masculine) best friend, another guy and a model he happened to be in love with. The guy and the model left early to go meet other friends, while the four of us stayed at the restaurant to finish up our wine and long raunchy conversation. As we were getting ready to leave, we received a call from the guy: “Come to Tabac on Rue des Francs Bourgeois in Marais! It’s so much fun here!” (FYI, a Tabac in France is usually a simple café that sells cigarettes, alcohol and coffee, i.e. a one-stop-shop for all your vices.)

To Fall in Love with Isaac Hindin-Miller, I Did This

Musings of the Mind, Those Who Can't Do, Teach · Paris · by Marina Khorosh

Last month I, along with the rest of the world, read the Modern Love article “To Fall in Love With Anyone, Do This”, which chronicles a writer’s experiment of falling in love via 36 questions, derived from some fancy psychological study. Granted, the writer fell in love; I was sold. (Desperate times call for desperate measures.) The challenge now lay in finding a poor sucker who would be willing to sit there and answer 36 questions about himself – and, worse yet, listen to me answer 36 questions about myself, a mildly unbearable feat considering that I’m known to manifest six opposing notions while answering one single question.

Luckily my fan friend and fellow blogger Isaac of Isaac Likes was in Paris for Fashion Week and happened to be a perfect contender for this project – I mean, the guy has a relationship blog of his own! It was a match made in Bloglovin’ heaven! Plus, having only met a handful of times, we didn’t know each other that well, which happened to be one of the prerequisites for the experiment. I sent him the link and he immediately agreed, although he did appear uncharacteristically nervous about the part where we were supposed to stare into each others eyes for a total of four minutes.

The Case Against Instasluts (and the Men who Follow Them)

Musings of the Mind · Paris · by Marina Khorosh

The other night, my best friend and hubby-in-law, one of the most in-sync couples I know, had an argument. The reason? He had ‘liked’ some random girl’s selfie on Instagram – mouth open wide, staring into the mirror with an expression of blank stupidity on her face – bref, the usual Instafuckme pic, just like the million others sweeping the Internet like some fast-spreading digital plague.

While I normally mock unreasonable jealousy, deeming it is a completely fruitless pursuit, this one hit a spot. To start, I would hardly call it jealousy – nobody actually thinks that their boyfriend/husband is going to run away with some girl who stacks her breasts on a selfie stick as a hobby. Rather, it is the idea of men virally following these girls – quite literally, like a bunch of dogs following a foul smell – that is unnerving.

The Non-Negotiables

Musings of the Mind · Paris · by Marina Khorosh

The other day, a family friend’s kid (‘kid’ being the applicable term here, as the guys is forty going on twenty-three), ended a relationship with the woman we were all praying he was finally going to settle down with. His reasoning? She had a kid. My dad, analyzing the situation, offered an interesting insight: “The problem is that you kids all become way too rational with age.” Hearing this, my mother gave me a long, pondering stare that made me realize that I was quickly becoming part of this equation.

The Fixer Upper

Musings of the Mind, Typecasting · Paris · by Marina Khorosh

A couple of weeks ago, I met a guy. Upon first glance, all the boxes appeared to check off: tall, cute, educated, gainfully self-employed, good family values, upper intermediate English (a coup in France). Our chemistry wasn’t suffering, and we worked in the same industry, always giving us something interesting to talk about. Considering my usual luck, or lack thereof, pas mal.

However, as we got to know each other, the issues began to emerge. Despite his conventional upbringing, he appeared to have a very low understanding of chivalry, was still mildly obsessed with his ex, and generally presented himself as a bit of a sloppy mess. On one night, my friend and I found him around the corner from the neighboring La Perle, looking distraught. It almost seemed like he had been crying! Blinking away the tears, he refused to divulge the source of his troubles. Ten minutes later, we saw him back at the bar, blissfully flirting with two blondes, his problems seemingly forgotten. He then proceeded to follow us to another bar, where he alternated between a pensive and a bored pout, speaking only when spoken to.