Friday, 13 July 2012

Officially off the Market, Fellas!

It was bound to happen. Everything was leading to this moment, and yet... it still caught me a little bit unawares...
Guess what? This single lad-ay, is now just a... lad-ay. What I'm subtly trying to get across here, without actually having to type it out (which was a big ol' waste of time, because typing it out is precisely what I'm about to do right now...), is that B.F. is now my actual BF. My boyf, everyone, B.F. is now my boyfriend.
Lord.
Not sure what this now means for us, but I know what it means for me. It means that now when I introduce him, I have to say something weird and awkward like, 'so, hey everyone, this is my boyfriend...' Gross. OR, even grosser, my friends have free reign to start being the most annoying they can possibly be by taking it upon themselves to say outrageous, unnecessary things when they meet him, like, 'oooooh, so you're B.F., the famous B.F., that B.F. that we talk about all the time, Silv's big ol' famous b o y f r i e n d !!'
Broke out into a cold sweat just writing that. And that's not just me being a dickhead (although I may have used a tiny bit of artistic license on the exact wording... and I may actually just be a dickhead regardless...); one of my friends genuinely did say that to him when she met him for the first time last week. She's not a good friend, granted, but she is a human being, and with that title, I would think that the tiniest bit of tact would be a part of her DNA. Apparently not. As soon as she'd had a few drinks she even 'whispered' (actually just put her hand over my ear, made eye contact with B.F., and shouted in my direction), 'he is SO hot! Well done you! You go girlfriend! Can't believe you snagged such a catch! He is SO French! I am SO jealous! I want a French boyfriend!'(once again, I can't confirm that the words 'you go girlfriend' were actually used, but just go with me on this one) And etc., until everyone involved was as uncomfortable as possible.
Even my mum's jumped on the bandwagon. Completely unsurprising, but annoying nonetheless. She's taken to asking in nearly all of her texts, 'seeing B.F. tonight?'
And I usually am, so I say, 'yes Ma, I'm seeing B.F. tonight...'
And unable to curb any enthusiasm with regards to matters of the heart of anyone, never mind her only daughter, that obviously leads to her needing to know every single detail. A couple of nights ago, I foolishly told her that I was on the Champs de Mars with him, looking at the Eiffel Tower's twinkly little love lights, and she text back, 'can't think of anywhere more romantic!!!' (And, for once, I haven't even exaggerated the amount of exclamation marks used...) So...
'Well how did this all come about?!', I hear you eagerly ask.
'In much the same way as our last conversation about where we stand went actually', I now answer you.
I think the 'areyouseeinganyoneelse' night set the tone for the whole relationship quite honestly. Any conversation that needs to be had now seems to go a little something like this: I bring up something about us as a twosome, that I'm inevitably uncomfortable about discussing ; he looks at me in utter disbelief, and simplifies all my worries into one quick, seemingly obvious solution; he makes me feel a bit stupid for even asking whatever I asked; we end up closer/officially together/married.
This time, he'd invited me to his cousin's birthday party in a bangin' area of the city, and I didn't really want to go, what with it being a family thing and shit. But B.F. convinced me that it was completely casual and that there was fuckloads of champagne, so I really couldn't turn it down. So I headed on over, in a pretty typical get-up of mostly denim, with some weird headwear and a smidgen of leather, but when I saw where the party was, I almost turned around and got back onto the metro. The apartment was one of the flyyyyyest I've ever seen, and that's saying something, being as the families I worked for here all have unreal places. I'm talking chandeliers, fairy lights installed into the ceiling (sounds tacky as fuck, but somehow looked absolutely necessary, and quite frankly, magical), people dressed in ballgowns...
So there's me and B, the youngest guests by a mile, sticking out like twin sore thumbs, and he's as happy as Larry. Happier than Larry even.
He's also extremely drunk.
While I was dithering around, trying to talk myself into going to the stupid party, and then taking a fair few decades to find the apartment, B had gotten a very unfair headstart on the alcohol.
To overcompensate for my discomfort, I tried to be as sociable as possible, and two Chinese guests latched onto me. They liked my headwear, so I liked them. They took me under their wings, and were being nosey little rascals about me and B, asking completely inappropriate and I R R E L E V A N T questions, like, 'so how strong are the feelings between you two?', and, 'what are you both going to do when you leave France?!' I know! So probe-y! So I humoured them where possible, but drinks had been consumed, and all tact had been left at the office, so much more often than was strictly necessary, my new friends would say, 'so where is your boyfriend?', or they'd say to B, 'come and join your girlfriend before we get too attached!' And B didn't even flinch. Not once. All this whilst I was writhing around in utter discomfort of course.
So on our way home from the party, I 'casually' (ha!) thought I'd try and gauge B's opinion on the whole hoo-hah.  
This is a cheeky little transcript (as close to the real chain of events as humanly possible) of the conversation that followed:

Me: 'You know those boys at the party?'
B.F.: 'The ones you were talking to?'
Me: 'Yeah, those ones.'
B.F.: 'Yeah.'
Me: 'They kept calling you my boyfriend hahahahahahaha'. Cue insane, manic, strait-jacket-deserving laughter...
B.F. looks at me in utter disbelief (told ya there was a pattern!)
B.F.: 'So...?'
Cue me toning the laughter down to a nervous giggle.
Me: 'Well... I... erm...'
At this point B.F. literally stops walking, and turns to look at me, disbelief and, yes I'm going to say it, disappointment, glowing in his little brown eyes.
B.F.: 'Well, aren't I?'
Oh shit.
Me: 'Well, we've just... never talked about it and...'
B.F.: 'So who am I to you?'
Ohhhhh shit.
Me: 'Well who am I to you?'
Immature, je sais, but I panicked... Give me a break! 
B.F.: 'You're not changing this around now...'
Watch me!
Me: 'No, but seriously though, we've never actually discussed it, so...'
B.F.: 'Well you're my girlfriend. I didn't think we had to say it out loud. I thought it was obvious.'
Oh bloody hell. Well obviously it seems like the most obvious thing ever now... Cue me feeling ridiculous again for a change...
So anyway, I won't bore you with any more of this word for word account (I'm well aware that it doesn't make for very riveting reading), but I basically backtracked as much as possible, and tried to explain to him that it's just because I'm generally used to stuff being a lot less simple in relationships.
B.F.: 'I don't like complicated.'
Ah man, neither do I, bubs, neither do I.
...and that's how I ended up with B.F. as my B-word.

I have approximately zero false pretensions about what's going to happen when I leave, so I'm just going to enjoy it while it's still fresh and fun. However, pessimism or no pessimism...
Foot. Mouth. I always put the first into the second. Yum. Upon discussion with one of my friends in the foyer (I do have some, you guys!!) about how Long Distance Relationships could possibly work, I was throwing some valid and rational points around, like, 'babe, they NEVER work in ANY case.' This gem was provided by me right before remembering that the Foyer Friend in question is currently enjoying (not sure if that's the right verb- maybe 'suffering' or 'putting up with' are more fitting) an L.D.R.
I quickly saved the situation by saying, 'obviously it's different if you've already been together a long time when you leave...' Gem number 2. It quickly dawned on me that she got together with her L.D.B.F. exactly one day before she came away to Paris. Cool.
Always just speaking out of turn, aren't I?
The weird thing is, I shouldn't even feel like this about L.D.R.s, being as my very own parents worked an L.D.R. And they worked it well.
What's more, my beloved L.T. and her L.D.B.F. were hunky dory the whole time she was away from him in the South of France too. So maybe I'm just wrong as per always, and maybe it really does depend on the couple and... the situation?
WHO KNOWS.
Not me.
   
And with that, my little fairy princesses, I'm off to see my... *ahem*... boyfriend.

Tuesday, 3 July 2012

Dulcet Tones

Also, B.F. thinks it's absolutely the funniest comparison that anyone's ever come up with to say that I sound like Kelly from Misfits when I speak English, and he
just 
will
not
drop
it.

For anyone who isn't familiar with Misfits (if so, what the fuck is wrong with you? It's one of the best things on TV!), Kelly's the one at the end who's unfamiliar with the concept of 'bwunch'...
Now... I like Kelly as much as the next girl, but I'd really rather not share her accent.
Really sad.
That said, I'm just not willing to take this one lying down. So here's me, saying the same exact phrase:
video

Note, the sheer amount of difference, and the similarity in tone and overall sound to other famous females, namely Her Royal Highness The Queen.

'What country are you FROM?!'

Haven't told you little beauties about Big B for a while, so I'll give you un petit update. You deserve it.
Okay, so I think the last time I told you anything about him I was still being a cold little ice queen.
Oh well haven't I just changed.my.tune.now?
Well now that you ask... yes, yes I have actually.
Can't get enough of the little critter now, can I?
So here's hoping he never sees anything I wrote about him before...
Last night I made the mistake of 'sharing' and light-heartedly telling him that he annoyed me the first night we met. I knew I shouldn't have said anything as soon as the words came out of my mouth and his little face dropped all the way down to the floor... That just tells you everything you need to know. We seem to have accidentally gotten pretty serious about each other without even noticing the exact moment when it happened.
He went away this past weekend to visit his sister and niece, and I found it really quite difficult to be away from him (christ, can't even take myself seriously writing that...) I guess infatuation springs up on the best of us. And when I say the best of us, I mean me.
So I saw him yesterday for the first time in the grand total of 4 days, and I was so embarrassingly excited. He's so cute with his little face (somebody stop me...) Anyway, he saw me, and came over, and we had a little (big) cuddle and I asked him how he was, and he looked at me all longingly and said, 'better now.' Didn't even cringe. I'm so disappointed in myself.
I'd told my friend, S.E., that I'd pop into her little gathering last night and bring B along, but as soon as I saw him I just wanted to have him to myself. Cue turning into one of those really annoying girls that picks bros over hoes. But, S.E. isn't exactly a bezzie M, and in my defense, I probably only have 3 or 4 weeks of time left with B.F., possibly ever. So, for once, fuck everything that I usually stand for.
I had a cutie time with him as usual, and then once we were all snuggled up back at his house, I decided that it was the absolute ideal time to lay my metaphorical cards on the table and just go ahead and find out whether we're exclusive, or just what.
I've been toying around with the idea of asking him for a few days now, and what I seemed to come back to more than anything else was- it's destined to be a short and sweet little situation, so why complicate it with rules and shit?
But, on the other, more grabby hand, I thought, why would I risk ruining the memory of it, turning it into more of a short and sour situation, by finding out too late that actually me and B.F. are on two completely different pages (me on page 54, where we're starting to get excited by the plotline; him on page 7, where you don't even really care if you lose the book because you've hardly invested any time on it at all)? I'm a jealous only child; there's no point in trying to convince myself that I can be casual and cool. It's just not something that I'm capable of, as much as I delusionally like to think that it is.
So, the decision was made. Just fucking ask him.
Ha! Easier said than done..
Once I'd got it into my head that I was just going to go right out and be all calm, like, 'yo man, so it's only me, yeah?' I forgot how to speak at all. And then he was being all annoying, chatting about other stuff, making me lose my nerve... And then, once I'd decided the moment was ideal, I realised that he was falling asleep. Wah! Such an ordeal.
I panicked then, and knew I needed to stop being a dickhead, and just use my words. That said, I knew I'd have to give it some kind of introduction before coming out with it out of the blue, so my excellent and original leading line was this: 'Can I ask you something?'
Oh no.
And he's a babe, so of course, he woke right up, and was all ears. Obviously, I changed my mind at that point, and decided that I didn't even want to know, and did the most annoying thing anyone can ever do, and said, 'oh, it doesn't matter actually.' So that, of course, it really mattered to him after that.
I knew then that I'd have to man up and just.ask.
But just.ask I did not.
I'm going to skip the details of the next 5 or 6 minutes, because they were painful to live out, never mind to read about, so I'll do you the favour of condensing them into this: 2 and a half minutes of ridiculous shyness from my part; 2 and a half minutes of insistent coaxing from his part; 2 seconds of me mumbling, 'ijustwantedtoknowifyou'reseeinganybodyelse' at the speed of light; and then a fair few seconds of him asking me to repeat myself and digesting what I'd said.
This is where the language barrier gets a tiny bit tiresome.
His first reaction was, 'you mean, like, dating?' (hate that word...) And as soon as I nodded, he incredulously said, 'no!'
That little exclamation mark doesn't represent him shouting; it represents him being completely and utterly dismayed at the question. He then reiterated this with an 'of COURSE I'm not!', and then punctuated it with a, 'do you think I'm a bastard?', which I found a bit excessive, but I think he was suffering from shock, so can't really be held responsible for his actions. He then looked at me a lot, and tried to u n d e r s t a n d. Disaster. I'd obviously answered his, 'do you think I'm a bastard?' with a 'no', and some other similar encouraging words. However he wanted to know after that whether I'd ever been cheated on, which I have, so I got some free therapy into the deal to boot. He said, 'look, I'm not going to sleep with your best friend', which isn't exactly what I was insinuating, but is also good to know... Then he came out with, 'well we're dating. Aren't we?' Yes, B.F., please stop calling it that, but yes, I guess we are. That seemed to be his answer to why he couldn't possibly be seeing anyone else, so I think there are different rules about these things in France. In all fairness, once B.F. started to grasp what it was that I was asking, he came out with, 'what country are you from?!', which was a bit startling, being as he knows full well that I'm English, but I guess he was just trying to make some kind of point about my question being so ludicrous that it must mean I'm actually from an Asian tribe where polygamy is encouraged, or some shit. I mean, in England I once 'dated' (eurgh) a boy for nearly a year, until the grand finale and closest thing to a love declaration I was presented with was, 'I wanna make you my main squeeze.' Not his only squeeze, just his main one. Let's bear in mind that not only am I not a lemon, but also this priceless offer was sent in a text, and even more shockingly, I felt like it was a real commitment. I'd even go as far as saying I was quite pleased by that turn of events. So, my thoughts on what 'dating' entails are somewhat skewed, to say the least.
So B.F. tried to see it from my point of view, bless his little cœur, and said, 'well, okay, maybe with other girls if I don't really care then it would be alright to date other people, but not when it's like this...'
Obviously, I milked it then (what?!! We were having a moment!!) and said, 'well, what's it like now?'
And he said, 'it's special...'
N'AWWWW! Less than a month ago, I probably would have thrown up all over his face at that comment, and now I'm the one encouraging this behaviour. What's gone on?
Ah well.
So he said some other cutie stuff about him never having been like this with anyone else, and other things, which I'll try and keep to myself (being as I've been oversharing like it's going out of fashion lately...) But basically, his reaction made me realise that I needn't have even asked, because, although we've never had a conversation about where we stand, he's so proper and so lovely with me, that, of course, he's not seeing anybody else. Besides, when? When would he even get the time to? He's with me every minute he can be.
So, I'm going to round off by saying that I'm an overcomplicated lunatic, as per always, and I guess me and B.F. aren't seeing other people.
What dya think about that?