Men should be men, women should be women. DUH!
That's really the lesson of this hopelessly clueless British woman, who fell "in lust" (clearly, they love each other-and there was good chemistry, all good) with a Frenchman.
She is trying to pull of the self-mocking bit, but it's really not working because her life prior to the Frenchman was pretty pathetic, and pretty typical of women nowadays.
Because basically the story is, lonely woman with history of flops (perhaps including beta males) meets alpha male heterosexual Frenchman who clearly likes women, hunts own meat, etc... Man makes pass, pursues her, woman gets all tingly. Man and woman live happily ever after. That type of thing.
She's all delicate here:
"The more Miriam told me about my French
admirer, however, the more I wondered if we had anything in common.
Pascal loves motorbikes and the rock band ZZ Top: I detest both. I’m a
vegetarian: Pascal’s a hunter who kills animals."
She's the delicate vegetarian! How lovely-how cultured!
"We accepted an invitation to dinner
at his home. And during the evening, when we were briefly alone, he took
me without warning into his arms. Pascal may be big and gruff, but his kisses were soft and light. Nestled in his arms, I realised I was utterly smitten."
Please see "Me Tarzan, You Jane" above.
He asked her to cook one night:
"For the first time ever, I was charged
with gutting and cooking a chicken for lunch. Problem: after years in
the expense-account world of TV, I knew how to reserve a sought-after
table at The Wolseley, but, somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten to
learn to cook."
Memo to career womyn folk: most men would really, really, really prefer that you know how to make a meal, not a reservation.
DUH!
Her conclusion (not mine, although I heartily agree): suppress "militant inner feminist", end up married and happy.
Her book is called "Head Over Heels in France" but looks like it should be subtitled "Heels Over Head in France" also.
(Did I just write that?? Yes I did-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!)
Men and women have emotional and physical needs that are very well served by tradition-despite what moron, lefty, angry, morose, unhappy, leftist social engineers would have you believe.
