WHAT'S UP with DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES?

Hello everyone,
I just wanted to ask to the American readers:
what's up with DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES?

I am stuck to the 10th episode of the 4th season (after the tornado), and I can't find any following episode: is the show going on at all?

Tank-you for your answers,

DH-addicted DDgirl

Complaint: I'm not like them.

Over the weekend, besides eating like a pig (but I also ran 9km on Saturday), cooking lasagna, waxing my legs, I had an argument with Kevin, my best buddy in the Paris office.
Since Kevin’s crush on me is finally fading away, he has started telling me about his dates (or, to be more exact, about chicks he meets, date is a big word).
So, on Friday afternoon we were chatting a bit on IM, and he was telling me how he had been working like crazy lately, when I digressed.
DDgirl: So, how about the new Russian chick? (Kevin has always had a thing for Russian girls, btw, and I hate it)
Kevin: Fine… she’s just astonished I come home so late at night from work.

Here is where I stared, wondering at my screen. Kevin lives with his parents, and he met this random chick like, last Tuesday. Like, 3 days before Friday.

DDgirl: Home? Did you move?
Kevin: nope… She’s staying at my parents’ place with me until she goes back to Russia in ten days.
DDgirl: So, just to make sure I get things well… You met this gal 3 days ago in a club, and now she’s staying at your parents’ apartment?
Kevin: yeah, you know she’s on holiday and has no more money left, so she didn’t know where to stay.
DDgirl: And do you host at YOUR PARENTS’ PLACE every beggar you find in the street? Or just blond ones with a Russian accent?
Kevin: Oh c’mon Stranger, amongst all people, you should know what it feels like to be a stranger.

And that’s where I lost it. Because, I’m sorry and I know it’s wrong, but I HATE those bitches that put all their neediness on our men, trading sex in exchange. Because this is what they do, we’re talking about a chick who is on vacation and cannot afford it, and no one obliges you to go on vacation if you are broke!!!
And I may be a foreigner here, BUT I NEVER ASKED ANYTHING TO ANYONE, I have always paid my dues and I cannot stand to be compared to this kind of girl.

And yes, Eastern European gals have already caused me problems, do I have to talk about The Eastern Slut? Or maybe about B.’s wife (another one who would play it all about how she couldn’t do it on her own, how her dad was a drunk and her mother a bitch, how she would kill herself if B dumped her, yeah, she even menaced that).
And how about Kevin’s ex, who told him she loved him too much to be with him, dumped him (that’s why he’s staying at his parents’) and the next week she was already screwing with her boss?
I’m sure most of girls from Russia, Poland and so on are not like this. But I keep having those kind of issues.

And the real thing is, I know why I always get involved in those situations. I’m quite tall, blonde, blue eyes and fair skin. Guys who like me, usually like the Eastern type.
And, at least in those stupid Mediterrean countries where I live, guys don’t like independent girls: they prefer them needy.

Will you be my Valentine?

Almost a week has gone since V-day, and I realize I wrote absolutely NOTHING about it.
There are a few reasons. Over the last three weeks, I have been working an average of 70-75 hours per week, and trust me, unless you have experienced it, you don’t know what I’m talking about. Luckily this project is over, so things have really slow down since Monday.
Furthermore, I don’t think V-day is a big deal. Still, I like to do something nice for my man, without being commercial. That is why, since I was 18, I always challenged myself in preparing my man a delicious romantic dinner, to be consumed at home with me, at the table, with cell phones switched off, no TV, no other distraction than a little music on the background.

Since this year I was working 8AM-1AM on V-day, I anticipated the dinner to the weekend of February 9. I don’t necessarily prepare very very special plates: besides, I try to stick to KS favourites. So this year it was:

Verrine of smoke salmon, lime, ricotta cheese and fish eggs
Farfalle (pasta) with pesto, potatoes and green beans (Pesto alla ligure)
Roasted chicken with potatoes and red pepper
A heart-shaped chocolate mousse cake, wrapped in red velvet (mainly made of icing sugar)

That’s it. No gifts, no cards were exchanged, we didn’t go anywhere special.
We still exchange plenty of gifts without any special occasion, but not on V-day, and I’m glad it’s this way.

You've got a friend in me

Dear DDgirl,

What’s up with my fave frenchy?
As you had already guessed, I came back to Thailand three weeks ago, and this time it might be for good. I’m actually learning Thai (I joined an intensive class which is pretty hard but I can already manage a basic conversation, not bad huh?), and I’m looking around for a job here in Bangkok. I actually have a job interview on Friday, and I’ve been so busy I hardly go out at night during the week, limiting my clubbing to weekend nights.
Babe, I know you’ll be a bit disappointed if I’m not coming back, but I couldn’t stand Milan anymore. All our old buddies from business school have transformed into boring bankers, who only go out with people that could help their career and so on. Things are not like they used to be when Eivind and you were there, and the three of us would rock each time we met.
And besides, I am happy here. Waking up in the warm air, knowing the day will be sunny, already puts me in a great mood.

Enough about me! How are you doing? I’m craving for some mail with the latest DDgirl’s adventures!

Kisses

Andrea

This morning, when I found this mail, I squealed with happiness. Luckily there wasn’t anyone else in the office!
Andrea the Hunter is safe and happy, and I’m relieved.
Last week was totally crazy, I’ve been working 16 to 20 hours each day, and by Friday night I was sick and exhausted. I managed to sleep through most of the weekend, spending some quality time with KS when awake, and today I’m in a great shape (I’m even considering jogging at noon!).
I’ll answer Andrea, work, jog, and I’ll be happy for today, because my best friend is safe and happy. Because he’s still my friend, and I’m still the one he will turn to when he needs help.

Why I worry about you

Andrea the Hunter has, once more, disappeared.
I know, Andrea is like that, every once in a while it just seems he has left the Earth for some other place, and no one knows how to reach him or where exactly he might be.
Judging from the sound I get when I call his cell phone (to which he doesn’t answer), I am able to say he’s in Thailand, although he didn’t tell me he was leaving. The latter is not weird at all: he often decides to leave Europe and takes off just a few hours later, without even packing: once he’s there, he only needs to buy a pair of Bermuda and a few t-shirts, so why bother packing? He usually just heads to the airport and get a place on the first fly for Bangkok.

I know what you are thinking: “Why the hell then should I worry about him?”

Things haven’t always been like this. There was a time when Andrea would come and go, and disappear even more often than he does nowadays, and I just knew sooner or later he would call or email me, telling me plenty of funny stories about all the crazy things he had been doing.

In 2004, he left for Thailand in early October. On his last night in Milan, we went out, drank, exchanged stories and hung out, then I kissed him goodbye and let him go. We traded mails twice a week more or less, and usually I had a blast reading his messages.
On December 23 I got a mail in which he complained about the bad weather (he was on the east coast), so I answered suggesting him to go to Phi Phi Island, I wished him a Merry Christmas, turned off my laptop and headed home to spend the 24 and the 25 with my family.
On the morning of December 26, I woke up very early to go back to Milan to the office. While driving to the station, at 5AM, I turned on the radio and learnt that the Tsunami had hit the Thai West Coast. They specifically talked about Phi Phi island as one of the places that had been more violently hit.
I immediately tried to call Andrea, but obviously thai cell phones did not work. The next step was to get in touch with his Italian “girlfriend”, who didn’t even know he was in Thailand.
I was still calm when I called Eivind, our mutual best friend who lived in Norway. Eivind told me he had Andrea’s last mail on December 24, where he said he was leaving for the west coast. And then, I started to panic.
Together with Evind, we called all the information centres about people lost on the Tsunami, we call Andrea’s mother who was in Finland (and didn’t appear much concerned), we tried everything.
During these days, a little voice inside me was whispering at my ear “If anything happened to him it’s your fault, you’re the one who advised his to go west, if he had remained on the east coast he would be safe”

On January 5, my phone rang in the middle of the night: it was Andrea. The Tsunami had reached him while he was boarding on a ship to PhiPhi Island. The ship rose, crashed on one side but did not sink, he had a broken arm (but later on he told me some people on the same boat had died), but he had managed not to lose his papers. In the following days, without any way to communicate with the rest of the world, without any access to hospitals, he fled towards the east coast, where he finally could be medicated in some kind of hospital. Only ten days after the Tsunami some phones started to work, and then he called.

A week later he managed to find a place on a plane from Bangkok to Amsterdam, from where a connection flight took him to Milan. I went to the airport to fetch him, it was snowing outside, and he arrived with dirty Bermudas and a t-shirt, his left arm plastered, and no luggage but his wallet. That night I took him at my place, helped him showering, fed him and then let him sleep in my bed while I took the couch. He slept for 20 hours, and in the meanwhile I went out to buy him a pair of jeans, a clean shirt and a sweater. On the next day he took the train to go home where his sister and his aunt were waiting for him.

Staff meeting

Okay, in order to cheer up, here’s how the main night of the staff meeting in the Alps went.
When I stepped into my room, my roommate was already in there, blowing her hair dry.
“Getting ready for the big night?”
“Yeah, I’m trying to make my hair look decent… Do you want some help with make up?”
Now, Caroline has a real good hand with make up, while I don’t, so of course I said yes please!
“What are you going to wear? And do you want a heavy make up, or are you going for a natural look?”
And then I opened my luggage, and took out what I had picked up for that night: a silky lacy light grey corset, the kind that makes you look 5 kilos lighter (and that you need a friend’s help to wear, while you blow out all the air and try to stuck your belly in), white moulding jeans with a silver belt, and stiletto boots.
Corsets may be out of trend, but I look hot in those things. I should have born centuries ago, they make me look taller (since they force me to have a better posture), make my boobs higher, my waist looks thinner: I love corsets!
Once I had managed to wear the whole outfit (with Caroline’s help for the corset…), she said “You’re dressed for success baby!”
I smiled, while taking a towel to protect my cloths from make up traces
“We only live once, Caroline. And I’ll never be 25 again”
“You’re totally right DDgirl!! So what are we doing about this make-up?”
My face had a nice healthy colour from all the outdoor activities of the day, so we both agreed I didn’t need any heavy basis. Instead of the smoky eyes all girl were showing, Caroline focused on my eyelashes, patiently putting on two coats of some miraculous mascara she had (and yes, she also made me use the eyelash torture instrument), plus she added some slightly shimmering silver eye shadow, and finished with my cutest lip gloss. Seriously? I felt hot.

The dance floor was already crowded when I stepped in, and thanks to the open bar, more than a few guys were already tipsy. I danced and danced and danced, on my own or with the guys, with Kevin that was making me spin so fast I sometimes even had to take a short break (usually the time to grab a drink, since it was pretty warm!). I cared not to exceed on alcohol though: although I adore partying, getting drunk at a staff meeting where most of the guys are staring at your booty, definitely isn’t a good idea!

When I left at half past four, the club was shutting down. A few friends and I still hung out for a while on the stairs on the club, joking and fooling around, and then I finally headed to my room.
On the next morning, I found a message from Nico on my answering machine, left at 3AM, which said in a slurry voice:
“Hey DDgirl, it’s Nico. I hate getting to your answering machine, because I would really really want to hook-up with you like, NOW. C’mon babe, I have some liquor in my room, we can set up a little private party, so call me back ASAP, before I fall asleep!”

Okay, honestly? I laughed my ass off. When I met Nico at lunch, I looked at his eyes and said “Hey, what’s up? Do you remember leaving me a message last night?”
His answer: “Hey babe! Last night… oh yes!!! Sorry ‘bout that babe… it’s just that the way you danced made me pretty horny.. Friends?”
“Ok, don’t worry and have fun for the rest of the day!”

Seriously, I think I did handle the whole thing pretty well, being cool without producing any accident, huh?

Anyway, this was the main evening of the staff meeting, which also included a lot of skiing, dancing and so on, but nothing remarkable.
But at least, this was funnier than yesterday’s post!!!

Pain

I know, I should be writing about the crazy nights of the staff meeting, about skiing, about having fun and plenty of things like that.
But today I learnt something. B. got married.
To be more precise, he married the Polish girl for whom he dumped me, and the marriage took place last summer, at the exact date he should have married ME.
I learnt it through a mutual friend who didn’t mean any harm, who actually thought that I already knew it and that I didn’t care anyway.

B. has been the greatest love of my life, and this won’t probably ever change. When he dumped me, I couldn’t live anymore in the same place we used to, I couldn’t go on with the same job, the same flat, the same life. So I quit my home country, and moved to France.

Today, I still cried when I learnt the news, because somewhere inside me I never gave up the hope one day he would maybe come back (and Bruno is Catholic, so marriage is forever).

It shouldn’t have to be this hard. The fact that I have also seen him today, not talking to me but staring at me, didn’t help. When he realized I had noticed him staring, he lowered his eyes.

Did he ever even love me? I cannot forget him telling me “You were the worst mistake of my life”, when he dumped me on the phone, and I hadn’t seen it coming at all. When I came home the next day, he was gone, and so were his things. It was 2 years and 8 months ago. Since then, I only spoke to him once, one month later, when one night I was so miserable I called him, and he told me he was back together with his ex (the one he’s now married to), and he had promised her he would not talk to me anymore.

When I first met him, and they were together, she used to make him miserable all the time. His whole family hated her because of this. He dumped her for me, but then she won him back.

Today, after so much suffering, I can only think that she will still make him miserable. And I hope so, I hope they’ll be unhappy together. I’m a loser, I’m really uncool I know, but I can’t avoid it. Maybe that’s why he never loved me.

I think I’m going to puke.