Love as they do en français…

kissing in paris

In the midst of writing 10 dating tips for this magazine (I’m seriously excited they asked me to!), I got an email from this Frenchman friend who had just read my blog and was all like, “Why do two adults need so much criterion and limitations when zee feelings speak for zemselves?”

And I was all like, “C’est dommage, vrai?”(Peut-être zut alors est plus d’appropos. Je ne sais pas.)

[heh heh. Frenchman: I know you’re reading. Sorry for butchering your language. I really did take five years of French.]

I agree with Frenchman. Feelings do speak for themselves. The job of dating advice is to gently pull you through the dating process like a child on a leash who’s not quite meant to be left to his own devices (oh wait, that’s a terrible analogy) until the right person comes along—your very own petit chou—and Maurice Chevalier or, better yet, Sam Cooke, is your background music for eternity and beyond. [Soupir.]

Or maybe scrap all the rules, firmly place your heart on your sleeve, adopt a lovely accent and skip through the streets with an accordion under puffy clouds positioned just so in the blue watercolor sky.


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