http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/ English Forum - CCeMagazine service@ChinaLoveMatch.net 60 http://www.cybercupidemag.com/forum/ http://www.cybercupidemag.com/images/logo.jpg http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=302
As you can see I like asian women, especially chinese, japanese and korean, but I live in a country where the asian population is too small, so is very rare find an asian person walking around the street, I don't know when I started to feel something special for asian women, but it is what it is, I like them, I keep positive and maybe I can go to another country with a bigger asian population, but don't misunderstand me I like women of different races, i just say I want to go for example to USA or Asia to have more interaction with asian people, if something else happens is additional. I'm from Colombia, I'm black latino, 25 years old and recently graduated of architecture, I've been on facebook groups and similars disscusing about relationships with asian women (especially black / asian relationships), and eventually I end up abandoning such groups because the cultural and location differences, I feel there are few things in common with the rest of the members of those groups so i get bored or I don't feel anything special with them. From what I've noticed many asian women come from closed or conservative societies and I feel a little hopeless when the relationships with black guys like me are few and a little dramatic, I hope not to sound desperate, but I'm starting to question my attraction to Asian women, mainly due to the low expectations that I have to interact with any of them beyond the internet, without forgetting that there are prejudices and cultural differences, I feel I'm wasting time , what you recommend me guys?]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=301
The next step. Learning Chinese. Any ideas? What have you tried? Did it work? What did it cost?
I think easiest would be my first choice. I don't want to tax the old brain too much.
Now that I have a semi fool proof solution for not calling my sweethearts mother a goat, it's time for the next step.

Any help would be grappreciatedciated. Any and all comments are invited.

Thank you all
Robert]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=300 Thanks.]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=299 http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=298 一，没有合适的对象；
二，女方要求太多；比如你有车有房吗，工资高吗，等等，
三，玩心重，没有耐心和毅力，做什么都不稳定。
四，……

These days Chinese guys my age (born 1990) only want a relationship, but not marriage. Why? Mainly due to the reasons below:

1. Can't find a suitable person.

2. Chinese women asking for way to much. For example, "Do you have a car?. Do you have a house?. Do you have a high income? etc, etc.

3. Young guys still want to have fun, play, etc. We lack patience and perserverance. Our lives are not yet stable.

4. ...]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=296 http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=295
http://www.orangecoast.com/april2012/feature/myimportedbride.aspx

I’m an older O.C. divorcé with a young Filipino wife I met on the Internet, and I know what you’re thinking. Can’t say I blame you. But you’re wrong.

I’m pouring drinks for my guests when the police arrive. It’s 3 p.m. on a Saturday and we’re hosting a friend’s baby shower in our open garage. The two officers survey the scene carefully before striding toward me with bad news. “We got a complaint from your neighbor,” one of the officers says with a nod.

After they sort it out and determine we’re not committing any crimes or posing a public nuisance, I approach the neighbor, a woman in her 60s who has lived in this quiet Los Alamitos townhome complex for many years. She’s not a bad person, but she’s unaccustomed to seeing garage parties here, especially attended by large numbers of dark-skinned people eating pigs roasted whole on a spit.

“Your personal life is so messed up,” she informs me.

In a way, I appreciate her honesty. And I understand her reaction. I’m a 63-year-old white male married to a beautiful woman from the Philippines more than three decades my junior. We met on an Internet dating site aimed at fostering international marriages. My neighbor is expressing openly what others convey with scornful stares. But then, that’s just one of the hazards of living in Orange County with a “mail-order bride.”

.

I haven’t always raised the eyebrows of my neighbors. Once upon a time, I too fell well within the cultural norms of America and Orange County. Married to a woman roughly my own age with a similar ethnic background, we had two children—a boy and a girl—whose presence in our household hardly warranted dramatic attention. About the most exotic island we ever visited was Santa Catalina. And, like most couples living the suburban dream, we assumed it all would last forever.

Then everything fell apart.

To be honest, it was my fault. I’m not proud of this, but one day I awoke to the realization that I had become the embodiment of an American stereotype: the middle-aged husband who imagines something better over the next ridge. Unfortunately, it was not a passing fancy but, increasingly, the dominant preoccupation of my life, ultimately leading me into the bottomless pit of an extramarital affair. Gradually, of course, my marriage unraveled until the ignominious afternoon when my wife, overhearing a hushed telephone conversation between me and my paramour, rightly sent me packing.

My last day in the house is etched into memory as if it had happened this morning: Me standing forlornly in the front yard as she screeched off in her car. Later I sat in a nearby park feeling a whole new kind of emptiness as I contemplated what was to come. By evening I’d been exiled to the spare bedroom of my brother’s home in La Palma.

Because my former wife is a forgiving person, the end of our 15-year union was not as acrimonious as some. But for me it was the beginning of a long, dark journey into self-doubt and recrimination that took years to overcome.

When I finally did emerge, I was a different man. I had learned late in life a painful lesson regarding family and commitment. For a while I held my own counsel, tenderly licking my wounds. Then I tentatively started testing the wind.

What I found was that, in the time I’d been out of circulation, relations between the genders had changed. In this post-feminist age, many women had priorities other than finding the man of their dreams. As a child of the ’60s, I certainly understood and appreciated their increasing independence. But the pendulum had swung so far that almost every man I knew desired a committed relationship, and almost every woman, well, wasn’t so sure.

So I wandered without a compass in the dating desert. Casual encounters certainly weren’t hard to find. But anything more serious seemed out of reach, a reality that left me disheartened.

For a while I stuck it out, chalking up a string of failed flings. One fellow divorcée, a woman in her 50s, ultimately decided that she’d rather be single. And a younger girlfriend eventually departed to travel in Australia. Of course, it occurred to me then—as it does now—that maybe men in general didn’t leave them uninspired. Maybe it was me.

.

I don’t remember specifically when it first occurred to me to look elsewhere for a mate. Because I was deeply frustrated by my dating experiences in America, I one night impulsively did an Internet search for “Asian women” and up popped filipinaheart.com. Aimed at fostering long-term relationships between Western men and Filipino women, the site allowed any man willing to pay a modest fee to advertise, respond to women’s ads, or engage in live video chats.

Initially, I admit, it all felt strange. Then I began noticing the stunning friendliness of the women I found there. More important was their willingness—no, eagerness—to commit to someone like me.

It was as if I had been magically transformed from an invisible older man into a rock star whose company women craved. Of course that appealed to my ego. On a deeper level, though, it appealed to my need for stability in a world in which the love I wanted seemed impossible to find. Here was a culture in which women seemed to have traditional values, were open to matrimony, and even dreamed of blissful lives in American suburbs. I understood that part of their incentive was economic. But marriage has always had an economic component; throughout most of history—certainly in America, and especially in the Third World—part of what seals the deal is the perception, and sometimes the reality, that two can live better than one. What stood out here was that the Filipino women actually were looking for something I could provide—a better life in the U.S.

Still, the online flirting began as a lark. I started spending evenings on the website chatting with interesting women. Some were obviously looking for handouts; I quickly learned to ignore anyone mentioning sick relatives with unpaid hospital bills in the first conversation. Most, however, seemed like decent folk with good family values, honest about what they were seeking.

My search gradually narrowed during the next several months. One night, glancing at a chat box on my screen, I saw the image of a young woman resting her head on a desk at what looked like an Internet café. What got my attention was that she wasn’t trying to get my attention. And so our conversation began.

What impressed me immediately about Ivy, then almost 24 to my 57, were her detailed responses to the questions I posed. Rereading them now, I’m struck by the directness of our initial emails. “I’m looking for someone who will stay with me for the rest of my life,” I confessed barely two weeks into the talk.

The next day came her reply. “David, we have to realize that love is not enough to make a relationship work; we need trust, respect, time, effort, and total commitment ... I believe you can fall in love after you marry because … we should not let passion but wisdom decide.”

Part of me thought it was crazy to even consider someone so young. There were 33 years between us; had I completely lost my mind? What would my friends and family think? I raised the issue with Ivy on several occasions. “You say that I am young,” she responded, “but I am fixed in my mind and know what I want. Don’t worry about the age gap because it doesn’t matter; most important is that I meet a real person who can be trusted and loved.”

At times I wondered whether I was just being played. But as the discourse continued, her message remained consistent. And so I decided to go find out.

.

If you were to put a map of the Philippines on a wall and throw darts at it, the chances of one sticking anywhere close to Caridad would be minuscule. That is, of course, unless you happened to be an excellent dart thrower and know exactly where it is, which few people—even in the Philippines—do. Like them, I had never heard of the thatched-hut village on Siargao Island. In fact, I had never heard of Siargao, a remote tear-shaped spot of land comprising about 170 square miles off the eastern coast of Mindanao, a region known among other things for its nascent Muslim insurgency. Fortunately, Ivy’s home island is more famous for its excellent surfing, large mangrove forests, and gorgeous white-sand beaches. When the time came for us to meet, though, I had some serious travel planning to do.

Here’s how it shook out: a 16-hour plane ride to Manila, followed by a shorter flight to Cebu, then an overnight ferry ride to a small city where she met me with a chaperoning cousin in tow. Before exchanging even a dozen words, the three of us had boarded a boat laden with pigs and bananas for the three-hour trip to the island.

I can’t honestly say it was love at first sight. The truth is that Ivy, so effusive in her emails, was too shy in person to even look me in the eye, supporting my hunch that people who meet online often are less bold when face to face. Her cousin graciously took up the slack during awkward lulls in conversation. But as we approached the pristine shore of the beautiful place where she was born, the look of the world began to change.

The first thing I noticed about Caridad, one of several rural villages on the island and home to about 1,800 souls, was its multitude of children. They were everywhere, playing amid water buffalo-drawn carts. Nobody seemed overly concerned with where each child belonged. When they got hungry, they knocked on a door and were fed; it was simple as that. Several, in fact, were doing just that at Ivy’s home when we arrived.

“So,” her mother inquired, getting right to the point in halting English after showing me a seat, “you want to marry my daughter.”

The truth is, we hadn’t made any such plans. “Well,” I responded, not wanting to be disagreeable, “what would you think of that?”

It was then that I noticed the crowd outside, perhaps 30 people of all ages grinning at me through open windows and doors. “Who are they?” I whispered to Ivy.

I wasn’t prepared for her response: “They’ve never seen a foreigner up this close.”

The rest of the conversation passed in a whirl. What were my goals? Where did I live? Who were my relatives? What did I do? And—my favorite—what had gone wrong in my first marriage that would be fixed this time around?

The questions, all from Mom with Dad and several relatives looking on, were merciless. As much as they made me squirm, however, they also commanded respect; here was a family that took seriously the admonition to protect its own.

I must have passed muster because Ivy, referred to locally as “black beauty” because of her lovely dark skin, eventually was allowed to accompany me alone on a stroll. We weren’t alone for long, though; on the beach we encountered a second round of questioning, this time from a large group of smiling locals represented by a teacher who conveyed their inquisition in English. Obviously, the town was not inclined to let one of its favorite daughters—or any of its daughters—be whisked away by just anyone, or without serious scrutiny.

The next morning, safely ensconced in a small bedroom with Mom, Dad, Ivy, and her three siblings, I was awakened at 6 by a bloodcurdling scream, the cry of one of her father’s pigs giving its life for some crazy visiting foreigner—me. That afternoon the family, along with the majority of its neighbors, enjoyed a feast of lechon, the roasted pork traditionally offered only on the most special occasions.

In truth, this was the beginning—not the end—of our discussions about the future. While already an adult who had left home and finished college, Ivy was required by Filipino custom to get her parents’ blessing before proceeding further. She did, and I made several more trips to the Philippines during the next two years of courtship.

Once I sat behind Ivy on her father’s motorcycle as she gave me a tour of the island. During that ride, with the smell of the ocean and her long black hair streaming back across my face, I believe I fell in love. Later, on a stretch of white sand once owned by her grandfather, we built a crude wooden shelter with a heart carved into its ceiling. And finally, at the end of a long pier called Cloud 9, I asked Ivy to be my wife.

.

On Feb. 3, 2008, she arrived at Los Angeles International Airport, an event followed within minutes by a loud bang. That’s because, driving home on the 405 Freeway, I couldn’t help paying more attention to the lovely young woman beside me than to the car in front of us. It stopped and we didn’t. So my fiancée got her first glimpse of Orange County from the cab of a lumbering tow truck dragging my crumpled Mazda behind.

Despite this inauspicious beginning, we were married two months later.

I vividly remember Ivy’s first impressions. She had never seen streets so wide; for a time, she was afraid to cross. Operating a washing machine and microwave were skills she had to acquire. And, accustomed to the continuous sounds of crowing roosters, barking dogs, and squealing children, her most difficult adjustment was to the pervasive silence surrounding our house.

“It’s as if we have no neighbors,” my wife often complained.

We filled that silence with friends much like us. In the absence of the large family and community structures of the Philippines, we have created a substitute family here in the wilderness of America. That hasn’t been difficult given the West Coast’s proliferation of Filipino Americans, including nearly 700,000 in Southern California, with enclaves in Anaheim, Cerritos, Carson, and Long Beach.

Consisting mostly of American men with younger Filipino wives and, increasingly, the children they have produced, our group—which began when some of the women connected on the Internet—has evolved into an active, though informal, association with frequent gatherings at various homes.

Today Ivy and I probably know more than 100 mixed couples scattered throughout Southern California, including many in Orange County. Like us, most met online. Many also have age gaps, though not always as great as ours. And almost all of the couples, at one time or another, have been misunderstood by their peers.

Like any family, this one has its share of squabbles. But it also forms the core of our social life, functioning much like Ivy’s village back home. Within this circle we celebrate holidays, baptisms, birthdays, and baby showers. When one woman has a baby, the others take her food. And on the rare occasions that tragedy strikes, we grieve with them as one.

We are acutely aware, of course, that others outside our group often look at us askance. We have theories as to why, but mine boils down to this: They don’t consider us legitimate. In a society that values—no, practically invented—love as the only valid basis for marriage, anything even suggesting other motives is suspect. And though online dating has become increasingly popular, many still don’t approve of relationships that seem arranged. There’s a reason some people persist in calling them “mail-order brides,” a term most of us find deeply offensive. True, some men and women have literally found their mates in catalogs, but that process bears little resemblance to the reality we know.

For starters, U.S. immigration law prohibits bringing a foreign fiancée to America without proof that you’ve actually met. More to the point, modern transportation and the advent of the Internet have put such relationships well within reach. Today it’s not only possible, but practical, to get to know someone intimately across several continents.

I’m not saying there aren’t transgressions. Everyone has heard of cases in which women “imported” from abroad have been seriously abused. Or, conversely, the women pretended love just to sidestep immigration laws or get a green card. I believe those are the exception rather than the rule. Most transnational couples we know enjoy real relationships marked by genuine affection. And, while establishing economic security is certainly a motive for many women from underdeveloped countries, there’s evidence that the resulting unions often succeed. (See Page 92.)

For Ivy and me, of course, it’s all very personal. Like any couple, we’ve had ups and downs. Many of our disagreements turn out to be misunderstandings caused by the language barrier. And contrasting cultural backgrounds occasionally become a source of conflict.

For the most part, though, I find the differences appealing, and each day still seems new. That has been especially true since the birth of our son in November 2010. As children will, Isaac has brought whole new dimensions to our lives. We are doting parents, to be sure. But our baby also seems to have conferred new levels of acceptance and respect among doubters in ways we never foresaw.

One of the many who has come around is my daughter, now 27. She never harbored moral or ethical objections to the marriage. But, having inhaled generous whiffs of local “wisdom” that it could never survive, she did have concerns for her father’s future, serious enough to create some reticence about meeting his new bride. “I’m just not ready,” she told me several times for about a year.

Though she eventually did visit us, I could tell she still had her doubts. Then along came Isaac and the needle gently shifted. Here, apparently, was evidence that we intended to see this thing through. My skeptical daughter fell in love with her little brother. And even her mom—my former spouse—is now Isaac’s gushing godmother.

All of which brings us to the present. At last, after some dark decades, I am once again part of a happy American family. Ivy and I have lots of dreams; later this year we hope to take Isaac on his first visit to the Philippines, and one day we’d like to build a little beach house on that gorgeous stretch of white sand.

We’d also like to stop being a nuisance to our Orange County neighbors. To that end we have a plan. This month Ivy and I will be celebrating our fourth anniversary. There will be another party with lots of foreign-born friends, an open garage and, yes, a big roasted pig on the table.

This time, however, we will do things differently. First I will call the police to assure them of our complete intention to follow the law. Then we’ll print up a batch of invitations for some of our neighbors. We sincerely hope they’ll come.
This article originally appeared in the April 2012 issue of Orange Coast magazine.]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=293 I have been all over the internet looking for a good translator. Is there a good one? On line or something to buy?
I have tried several and after translating to Chinese and back to English can be a disaster. I don't want to say she looks like boat! That was the translation of the translation. I would translate a word at a time but that would take all day and still not be correct.
If anyone can help, I am in need. This is getting discouraging. I'm afraid I will try to tell her how beautiful I think she is and the translation will say I think she looks like a frog.]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=291
Do you walk her to her door after a date (even if it’s on the 6th floor)?

Do you cuss at the driver that just cut you off?

Do you carry her bag when you walk together?

Do you have an angry face when the waitress doesn’t do the right things?

It has been said that chivalry is dead, but actions do speak louder than words. And if you are not getting a second date from that really nice girl you met, maybe she is listening to her eyes and not to your words. And it’s not easy to see in ourselves what others can see so clearly. We cannot see our frown. We don’t hear the cuss that escapes in anger. Now I’m not claiming to be Mr. Perfect, and believe me, I am far from that (just look at my recent thread about driving!). But to really develop a relationship, we need to care about the other if we want the other to care about us, and that means chivalry must not be dead.
]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=290
Soon after that, I got my driver’s license in Shanghai, and I got to experience the rat race first hand. Growing up in Minnesota, I was taught that “Minnesota Nice” meant to extend courtesy to my fellow man, and think about other’s feelings. So my first reactions were how rude the drivers are in Shanghai! Wow, they cut you off, they don’t check their mirrors…in fact, they just move left to right with no consideration of what is left or right of them! And the scooters, bicycles, and pedestrians….they move around like lao shu in a barn full of rice! These guys were pissing me off! This is dangerous!

Then, at one point it hit me. There are no cops here! There is no enforcement of traffic law except the cameras checking speed! This is not a curse, this is a blessing! Ever since I sat in my first go-kart as a kid I dreamed of race car driving, and here it is! My best opportunity! So I changed my attitude. And soon I realized how much fun this is! Weaving in and out, honking my horn, it’s an exhilarating experience! Now I drive more aggressive than a Hangzhou taxi driver (and I have paid attention…Hangzhou has the MOST aggressive taxi drivers!).

However, despite that, I still respect the pedestrians who cross at intersections on green lights. However, for you nuts who cross red lights, be in for a scare if I am coming! I may not hit you, but you may need to change your niao bu afterward!

I look forward to hearing all of your transportation tales!

PS – for those of you lao wai thinking of following in my skid marks…consider the following things I have gathered about Chinese drivers, pedestrians, scooter drivers, etc.:

1. Lack of experience driving (for car drivers);
2. In general, a willing to take a big risk for a small reward (cars, scooters, bicycles, and pedestrians);
3. Extreme impatience.;
4. Often distracted with mobile phones;
5. Lack of respect for kinetic energy (mass moving at speed!).

So take care!

MNGuy
]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=289 http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=288
Sometimes ,it is not that bad with single life. When we want to do something for yourself, we don't have to think about your family if we are single. That's very joyful. And we just feel free to do whatever we want, there might have no restrictions in our single life. That is happy.

However , Everything has its double sides. It's hard to say happy or not to be a single.

Being single troubles us .Being single too long ,As woman ,we will have doubt if we are attractive .Lovely ?Or loveless ?When we are sick, who is going to look after us?
The idea of being alone in life can be so overwhelming. Soul crushing for some.

If you are single, are you afraid of your future?
If you are single, are you afraid of the lonely long night?
If you are single, are you really happy?

单身你快乐吗？

单身有单身的快乐，有时，做一个单身女人，是一件快乐的事。
当我们想要只为自己做一些事情的时候，如果我们是单身，我们不需要考虑我们的家人。那是非常愉快的。我们只是自由的做你想做的事，在单身生活中，这里也许不会有约束。那是一种快乐。
可是，每一件事都有它的两面性。很难说单身到底快乐与否。
单身也有单身的苦恼，时间久了，女人有时甚至怀疑自己对异性的吸引力。究竟是“可爱”，还是“可怜没人爱”?当我们生病的时候谁来照顾我们？孤独终老的念头让人受不了。甚至让某些人有灵魂破碎的感觉。
如果是单身，你会害怕长夜的寂寞吗？
如果是单身，你会担心将来的结果吗？
单身,真的快乐吗？


]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=287
When they first started dating, the woman learned the man thought this about her, so she would sometimes jump out at him at night to surprise him. They have a very humorous relationship!

One night he was asleep in bed and she sneaked up to pounce on him. He was startled awake and told her, "I thought you were an alien from outer space!"

She smiled and said, "Do you think I have come to abduct you?"

And he responded, "You have abducted my heart a long time ago."

This couple has since gotten married and have a child due this June. They are completely in love. I admire the care and affection they give each other. Every time I see them they are inseparable.

Personally I am a little scared of the aliens as depicted on tv, but if I met my Ms. Right and she looked like an extraterrestrial, it would not matter. I would want to engage in this otherworldly romance.]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=286 It has been a long time since you stopped sending messages to me and disappeared from my world. Maybe you have forgotten who I am, but I won’t ever be able to forget you. In fact, I miss you and your messages more and more. I’m the girl once sent you some pictures of a beautiful ancient town in China named Fenghuang in a message on this website. Do you still remember me? We talked a lot about western men and Chinese woman.
During the period without your messages, I have tried to get to know other men and forced myself to forget you. But it failed. I just have no feelings for others and I can’t accept others’ interest in me. Because your smiling face always comes to my mind and I like this face a lot. Although you’re 14 years older than me, I can’t feel the age gap between us. You words in the messages always make me happy and willing to read them again and again. In my eyes, you’re so learned and refined, handsome, peaceful and intelligent. I find the adjectives I have got are not enough to describe what you’re in my eyes. To me, you’re the Prince Charming. I regret that I was not brave enough to show you my feelings for you.
I have made a decision that I’ll wait for you here until you reply my thread. If you have found the one you love, please make me know that. If you haven’t, could you allow me to keep in touch with you? I think you know my email address, which I gave you in the messages. I’ll give myself one month to wait for your reply. I’ll never come to this place again if I failed to receive your messages. It is meaningless for me to linger around here without your messages.

A Girl Waiting For You
]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=285 A famous chinese lady writer ,Who named ECHO ,She married a spanish man and wrote a legend of love with this man in sahara　.When her husband died from an accident ,Echo finished off the love legend using suicide. ECHO wrote in her book :Every girl is btorn when a boy waiting for her . This sentence brought every woman a wonderful romantic fantasy.
We believe love is not only waiting ,but also a destiny . In the time of grief or disappointing ,we told ourselves ,” I know someone in the world is waiting for me, although I've no idea of who he is. But I should feel happy every day for this.’’ After all ,we are ordinary people .We cannot stay in legend .We have no choice to wait silently .
When we are in love with a man ,we always think that love is very heavy, heavy and could be the heaviest thing in the world. But probally finally we have to walk on the strange road , strange scenery with a badly broken heart. We learned a word who named “ move on “.
I would like to countless times, I also can be turned into the world who is the protagonist. No longer lonely.
After so many times disappointing , we understand we must be strong .life must be continue .We must keep confidently optimistic and cheerful even the right person not come .Just let wait love become part of our life instead of all our life .
We shall still always save a place for ourselves, only for ourselves. And then begin to love. Have no idea of what it is, who he is, how to love or how long it will be. Just wait for one love. Maybe no one will come out, but this kind of waiting is the love itself.　
]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=284
At a family gathering we all drank to our good luck each .My son Ming suddenly asked me :”Mum ,is there any man love you ? I realized Ming is not a little baby anymore ,he is already grow up to a nine-year old boy who have watched many romance play . I answered ,“ No ,nobody love me.” “Mum,you beautiful .Give you half a year to get me a dad.” Ming looked at me seriously .I answered ,smiling, “ OK ,I will try ,but I am not so sure I can find the man so soon .” My father signed a deep sign, “My daughter is so good ,how possible nobody love you ?” You should buy some nice dress to attract man .” I began to laugh. This is beauty of family .Under a son’s eyes the mother is always beautiful .And under a father’s eyes the daughter is always perfect . Apparently I am not perfect . I am a simple woman,like simple persons,simple living,simple relation and quiet life . I had experienced pain but now I am confidently optimistic and cheerful.Love is not all my life ,however ,I will always save a place for myself , only for myself.And then begin to love. Have no idea of what it is, who he is, how to love or how long it will be. Just wait for one love. Maybe no one will comeout, but this kind of waiting is the love itself.
I raised my glass to everyone : dad ,mum , grandma ,sisters , son,……,smiling and say ,”Wish us all good luck .wish me luck .
]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=283 “Men too easy waist money whey they have enough money in pocket .’’ “Men easy get worse when they have money .” ……. The deep-seated reason is ,probably hold the purse strings in the family to make women feel secure. Women worry they will be out of favour of husbands after having kids ,losing color .
Holding the purse strings not means holding the man’s heart .However ,most of women believe this is a promise from their men :”I never leave you alone ,all my all money in your hand .”So most of women will love to control financial in family ,even in the name . Most of Chinese man will agree wife manage money for them ,but if the wife too tough in control money ,the men will hide some private saving called “Unit-owned Exchequer” .woman control financial and man set a “Unit-owned Exchequer” become interesting social phenomenon.

With the progress of the times ,women become more economically independent ,this phenomenon is changing among young generation in recent years...

为什么中国女性喜欢控制家中财权
中国女性喜欢控制家中财权。一项调查显示，70%已婚女性控制家中财权。如果你问女人为什么喜欢管钱，回答会是五花八门的。“如果口袋里有钱男人太浪费”，“男人一有钱就变坏”........可是更深层的原因也许是，女人们担心在养儿育女，红颜见2老后会失去男人的欢心。管住男人的钱，虽不能管住男人的心，但是女人更相信这是一个男人的承诺：“我不会离开你，我所有的钱都在你这。”大部分的男人会接受女人管钱，如果女人管的太厉害了，男人会藏起私房钱，私设“小金库”。这已经成为一个有趣的社会现象。
时代在进步，女性经济能力日趋独立，这一现象近些年在年轻一代中也有所改变。]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=282
Is this the same with Chinese women? Do they fantasize about the bad boy?

If a Chinese woman marries Mr. Stability, will she cheat on him in the same manner as western women? So she can have the bad boy experience?]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=281
The large age difference...the lack of things in common...the fact that the man is aging rapidly and an old man so soon...

How can such a marriage last? Will the girl even want to be seen in public with such an old man? If they live in the west, what will western society think of the older man and the young girl?

]]> http://cybercupidemag.com/forum/post.aspx?pkid=280
咸菜发言的鲑鱼，我是绿色的，但你有更好的蛋黄酱的应用潜力]]>