So here it goes....

      Alright American ladies, let's get real here for a second: there is a myth about those Frenchmen. They have a certain je ne sais quoi about them, and a certain reputation that follows. They're well dressed. They're galant. They're charming. They're cultured. They drink wine and talk cinéma and they know how to seduce you. And oh, let's not forget that accent. What's not to like? 

      Oh, minor detail: the part where they love you and leave you, cheat on you, sleep with you and then drop you like a hot tamale, and can't make up their minds. It's a game, this love thing in France, so built in to the culture there's a phrase that goes ¨je t'aime...moi non plus¨: I love you...me no longer, pulled from a song by the same name sung by none other than the illustrious Serge Gainsbourg. 

       I arrived in France two years ago for various reasons: I was fresh out of college, here to teach English, and in hot pursuit of a PhD in French Literature, which explains the whole fluency deal. I decided to stay for my Masters degree, which I'll be completing this year at the Sorbonne. The original idea was to repatriate to the good old U-S of A right after, go to a prestigious doctoral program, and get on with my life. 

            That is, until I fell in love with France. 

           Now I'm trying to stay which ever way I can and worrying the government is going to somehow force me back to America in one year's time. We'll see. 

        That said, I was very careful my first year and a half here not to get caught up in this whole Frenchman business. I've many an anglo-saxon female friend here who has been victim to the caprice of a Frenchie, and have done most everything I can to avoid being trapped. 

            Until I too become victim. And then I stopped caring and let it all go. 

           

            This is the story of my French dating adventures, the life lessons I pull out of them, and hopefully, a few laughs along the way. Let's make one thing clear though: for privacy's sake, I'll be changing the names of the gentlemen I reference here. American girls are--after all--classy, and the point of this is not to drag any one through the mud.

             Enjoy :)