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<rss version="2.0"><channel><title>marlll on the moon</title><link>http://marlll.skynetblogs.be</link><description>marlll on the moon</description><language>fr</language><lastBuildDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 05:03:19 +0100</lastBuildDate><docs>http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss</docs><generator>Skynet Blogs RSS generator 2</generator><ttl>60</ttl><item><title> flatter</title><category>Général </category><description>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande'; font-size: 12px;"&gt;&lt;p style="line-height: 1.75em; margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;&lt;font style="padding: 0px; margin: 0px;" color="#494949"&gt;Who pays for it? My past dates have taught me some things. You don&amp;rsquo;t know if I&amp;rsquo;ll get the wrong idea if you treat me for dinner, and I don&amp;rsquo;t know if I&amp;rsquo;ll deny your pleasure or offend you by insisting on paying for myself. John whipped out his wallet on our first date before I could suggest we go Dutch. During our after-dinner stroll he told me he was interested in dating me on a steady basis. After I explained I was more interested in a friendship, he told me he would have understood has I paid for my dinner. &amp;ldquo;I&amp;rsquo;ve practically stopped treating women on dates,&amp;rdquo; he said defensively. &amp;ldquo;It&amp;rsquo;s safer and more comfortable when we each pay for ourselves.&amp;rdquo; John has assumed that because I graciously accepted his treat, I was in love. He was mad at himself for treating me, and I regretted allowing him to.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="line-height: 1.75em; margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;&lt;font style="padding: 0px; margin: 0px;" color="#494949"&gt;Larry, on the other hand, blushed when I offered to pay for my meal on our first date. I unzipped my purse and flung out my wallet, and he looked at me as if I had addressed him in a foreign language. Hesitant, I asked politely, &amp;ldquo;How much do I owe you?&amp;rdquo; Larry muttered, &amp;ldquo;Uh, uh, you really don&amp;rsquo;t owe me anything, but if you insist&amp;hellip;&amp;rdquo;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="line-height: 1.75em; margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;&lt;font style="padding: 0px; margin: 0px;" color="#494949"&gt;Insist, I though, I only offered. To Larry, my gesture was a suggestion of rejection.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="line-height: 1.75em; margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; padding: 0px;"&gt;&lt;font style="padding: 0px; margin: 0px;" color="#494949"&gt;Men and women alike are confused about who should ask whom out and who should pay. While I treasure my femininity, adore gentlemen and delight in a traditional formal date, I also believe in equality. I am grateful for casual dating because it has improved my social life immensely by making me an active participant in the process. Now I can not only receive roses but can also give them. Casual dating is a worthwhile adventure because it works. No magic formula guarantees &amp;ldquo;he&amp;rdquo; will say yes. I just have to relax, be Laura and ask him out in an unthreatening manner. If my friends are right, he&amp;rsquo;ll be flattered.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><comments>http://marlll.skynetblogs.be/post/6637743/-flatter#comments</comments><pubDate>Tue, 20 Jan 2009 05:03:18 +0100</pubDate><link>http://marlll.skynetblogs.be/post/6637743/-flatter</link></item></channel></rss>
