Happy New Year (AKA Your Time Starts Now)

Musings of the Mind · London · by Marina Khorosh

A few weeks ago, I asked my brother (late 30’s, three kids, fairly decent at life) an atypically candid question.

“Do you think I have a chance of getting married anytime soon?”

My brother was quiet, and he’s not a quiet kind of guy. He carefully considered his answer, knowing from experience that one misspoken word can result in many of tears.

“I don’t think that a person who acts like you wants to get married.”

Of course, the obligatory tears ensued. How dare he say this about his perfect sister, a practically born-again virgin with excellent childbearing hips? But after the shitstorm came the calm, and I decided to hear him out.

The Story of Jake Gyllenhaal, or The New Year’s Eve That Never Happened

Editor’s Note: This very timely post comes from a new contributor to this blog, whom I like to call the Loggster. The Loggster is one of my best friends, earning her nickname for being one of the calmest, nicest people I know. (Log -> Boring person -> Loggster. Get it?!) However, she also shares my special Superwoman powers of ATTRACTING ALL THE WRONG GUYS, and so her voice on this site is highly cherished.

Dear Dbag Addict,

In response to your most recent inquiry, “What’s the worst way a guy has ever broken up with you?”, here goes my tale of the New Year’s Eve that never happened.

Prison and Pregnancy is Not a Good Look

Misery Loves Company · by La Yummy Mummy

Editor’s Note: This post is brought to you by a married, adult friend of mine, who has previously appeared on this blog to voice her critique of our carrot-eating friend Bestie. After some thought, we have decided to christen her as the D-Expert, as she appears to be the only voice of semi-reason on this site. Recently, the D-Expert called me, sounding as if she had just cracked the Holy Grail of female mysteries: “I know why you are still single! It’s the PEOPLE in this city!”

Wow, no kidding.

And so, below is the D-Expert’s recount on being 6 months pregnant in the lovely, completely non-judgmental city of Paris!

When Love Gets Virtual

Misery Loves Company · by Marina Khorosh

Since t’is the Season to be Merry and you probably have nothing better to do, lets take a quick survey. How many of these apply to you?

You are currently talking to a guy (girl) on the phone/Facebook/email or some other form of telecommunication on a daily basis.
Whenever something good or bad happens in your life, he (she) is the first to know.
Instead of going out to partake in real life activities, you sometimes stay home to talk to him (her).
When you do go out, you feel guilty talking to other guys (girls). In fact, you don’t really consider yourself single.
However, sex is something you haven’t experienced in awhile.

Is this you? If so, you are suffering from Virtual Relationship Syndrome, the biggest form of human procrastination since Angry Birds.

10 Things I Love and Hate About French Men

Typecasting · by Marina Khorosh

A couple of nights ago, I was sitting in a restaurant with a mélange of expats and some poor Frenchies who had the misfortune of winding up in my presence. With three functioning brain cells left to rub together after days of holiday boozing, I took a receipt and started mapping out a list of reasons why the spawn of Rimbaud and Baudelaire don’t seem to be doing it for me in the romantic sense.

While the original version of this document is now lost, I believe that it went somewhat like this.

How to Be Single on the Holidays (the French Way)

Those Who Can't Do, Teach · by Marina Khorosh

I thought I had alleviated some of the misery that comes with being single on the holidays when I moved to Europe. After all, isn’t the majority of it simply America’s ploy to market us an eggnog-scented illusion of happiness, proliferated by Christmas songs by the likes of Justin Bieber?

Nuh-uh, it turns out that Paris is flooded with even more holiday memorabilia, ready to jump at you from every corner. Blocks from my office, a Christmas market glistens menacingly, polluted by happy couples ice skating and bingeing on gluhwein. The Galeries Lafayette shitshow puts its Saks Fifth Avenue counterpart to shame. The goddamn tower is the biggest mockery of it all, sticking its head out at you on every corner, as if to chant “I am the global symbol of romance. Your mere presence in my company is insulting.”