Qui suis-je ?
T otalement barjo
A la recherche du prince charmant
I am a girl that travels, but I don't want to be let go. I just want to find someone who wants to come along for the ride. I don't think that makes me undatable. In fact, traveling has taught me valuable lessons that shape who I am today. Traveling has introduced me to so many other like-minded women who are daring, brave and beautiful because of it.
That's why you should date a girl that travels. Maybe she's not skilled at putting makeup on, and maybe she can't control her messy hair. Maybe she can, and she just doesn't care. For her, an extra 20 minutes spent getting ready could be better spent exploring her surroundings. And those wrinkles you see? They're creases from the grin she's always wearing.
If you date a girl who travels, she won't be hard to please. She's definitely not simple, but she can enjoy simple things. Instead of fancy dinner parties, she'll pick hot dogs and roasted corn over a campfire. Instead of movies, she'll want home-brewed tea and a good conversation. And if you have stories about hiking glaciers or diving the Great Barrier Reef, she won't complain if you brag. She'll snuggle up close and beg you to tell her another one.
You should date a girl that travels, but don't be surprised when she comes home one day having splurged for a last minute trip to Peru because she found a great deal. This might seem careless at first, but you'll come to realize that she is quite selective about the things she spends money on. A $250 first-time scuba dive off the coast of Oahu to see sea turtles? It's all hers. A $100 ticket for a New Year's Eve party at a bar she can go to any other night of the week for free? She'll pass. She knows that celebrating lavishly for one night could be the equivalent of an experience she'll never forget.
If you date a girl who travels, and she has a steady job, you might have to listen to her vent when she feels like it's slowing her down. You will also have to listen to all of her half-baked, crazy ideas about how she wants to:
A) Give up her stable career to focus on travel blogging as a primary source of income
B) Jet-set across the world to become a sheep farmer in New Zealand in exchange for food and housing
C) All of the above
(Correct Answer: C)
If you date a girl who travels, and you complain about your boring job, she might try to convince you to quit and come with her. And she just might succeed.
Source: Global Panorama
You should date a girl who travels because a life of uncertainty doesn't scare her. It's exciting because she knows she can handle whatever gets thrown at her. She's the kind of girl that makes friends with strangers on busses or in public bathrooms. She's the kind of girl that speaks her mind and follows her heart. She's the kind of girl that you can take home to your parents and friends because she is smart, culturally sensitive and humble. She's the kind of girl that has a good sense of direction but prefers being lost. She's the kind of girl that finds comfort in the sounds of foreign languages and feels completely at home in unfamiliar places. She might not know her place in the world yet, but she sure is trying to figure it out. She is strong, courageous, adventurous and daring.
So, you should definitely date a girl who travels. Give her a chance, and try to keep up. Because when the time comes, and she's ready, settling down with you will be a great adventure too.
You should date a girl that writes. Find her outside a roadside cafe on a clear spring day, her eyes roaming hungrily across the faces that walk by. Sit next to her, brushing away the loose sheets of paper that she set there just to keep people like you from talking to her. Point at her headphones and ask what she’s listening to, and when she answers you immediately realize that she’s lying. Try to hide your smile, because you know she’s not listening to anything at all, but she needs to keep up the pretense of being extremely busy and completely unavailable for discussions with strangers such as yourself, sorry.
Start a conversation with her, ignoring the faint irritation in her voice at being interrupted from her thoughts. Make her laugh, and when the evening grows long and the sun begins to set, ask her to stay a while longer. Know she’ll refuse. So bid her goodnight, this girl, and after she leaves, realize you don’t even know her name.
Come back the next morning, and sit outside to wait for her. Leave the seat next to you conspicuously empty and order two of whatever you like to drink. Take out a blank notebook. And wait.
When she shows up, savor the astonishment in her eyes. Watch her blush as she takes a seat, notice her eyes flicker to your notebook. When she asks you why you haven’t written anything, say it’s because you haven’t found anything worth writing about. Ask her what she writes about. Does she write about the impossible, of angels and demons and the horror and beauty of them?
She will reply that those aren’t impossible, that we are both of those and so much more.
She writes about everything, she tells you, because everything is worth writing about. And when the day turns to night, ask her to keep you company for a bit longer. Smile sadly when she refuses again, and offer to walk her home. Reach for her hand as the two of you walk, because she’s unconsciously started to linger back, taking in how the fading light has rewritten her whole world in shadow and darkness, and also because she looks so alone. Smile because she doesn’t pull away, and when you reach her house, bid her goodnight, and say that you’ll see her tomorrow.
Show up at the same time the next morning, and choose something new to try, something you’ve never tasted because you feel like taking a risk. When she arrives, notice that the conversation is smooth and easy, and ask her about her plans for tomorrow. Offer to take her somewhere. Notice a flash of excitement before she covers it up with a cool acceptance. Let the conversation continue seamlessly and pretend not to see the faint smile dancing across her lips.
When it grows late, let her leave this time, because you know she should. Walk her home and before she enters her house, pull her in for a hug. Take in the smell of her, of something so familiar and yet unknown, and think about how you would be content to hold her forever. Feel a twinge of sadness when you know that she doesn’t feel the same way.
Let the days pass, and see summer turn to fall. Watch her grow wiser but sadder, and watch as she begins to trust you. See the world with her. Go on long road trips to nowhere, and point out small things that you think she’ll like.
One day, take her to a forest, an abandoned corner of nature, and ask her to dance, because you’ve read about it in books and you want it to be in hers. Kiss her for the first time. And when it grows dark, ask her to stay a bit longer and hold your breath, because it feels like a pivotal moment in your life that has begun to revolve around this beautiful, broken girl. Feel an immense surge of relief when she agrees. Stay in the forest and talk to her.
Tell her about the velvet of the leaves and how her eyes shine even in the dark, of the silver of the moon and the lonely stars and tell her of myths you’ve heard about them. Tell her about all the things you see and have ever seen, because you know she’ll appreciate it. And when she begins to yawn, let her fall asleep on you, because you know you won’t be able to sleep with her so close.
Visit her often over the course of the next few years. When she calls you up late at night, crying, ask her what’s wrong. Listen to her talk, this writer weaving words into a tapestry, and tell her that she’s beautiful. Eventually, meet her parents, and speak of their daughter as if she put all the stars in the sky, because that’s how she makes you feel. As if she’s opened a whole new world for you. See the pity in their eyes, because they know their child, and they’ve seen her grow up and realized that she would rather write a story than live one.
Vow to prove them wrong.
When you see her room, stark-white and empty but for the desk covered in notebooks and maps and pictures, pick up one of her stories and read them for the first time. Hear the echoes of her voice, and find yourself in the pages. Realize that you’ve become a character in her story too, one of those angels and demons that she loves so very much. Try to figure out how you feel about that. Realize you should probably leave her to her words, to the stories she writes and the way she only opens up in her writing.
But because of her eyes, which are years older than the rest of her, because of the way her hands punctuate her words and how she watches the world with all the wonder as if she were seeing it for the first time, you know that you can’t give up. And when she finally looks you in the eye and sees not just a story to write, a character to bring to life, but a man to love, realize that she’s fallen for you too.
So you finally take out that notebook from so long ago, that notebook you never wrote in because you never found anything worth writing. Take it out and write your story and hers. Write about a girl who saw the world but didn’t live in it, and write about the boy who fell in love with her.
And finally, give her the notebook and with it, your heart.
Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes, who has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.
Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag. She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she has found the book she wants. You see that weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a secondhand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow and worn.
She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.
Buy her another cup of coffee.
Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.
It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry and in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.
She has to give it a shot somehow.
Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.
Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things must come to end, but that you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.
Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.
If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.
You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.
You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.
Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.
Or better yet, date a girl who writes.”