Tinder and Blind

I’m moving to Dubai, oh my god.

A year ago I thought I was adamant to move, I almost forced it to happen, but it didn’t. So I continued with my London lifestyle and lived it to the full.

This time it just happened so naturally, it feels so right and I’m so ready that I know it’s meant to be. I have a friendship group out there ready and waiting and I’m not backwards in making contacts, so I’m really looking forward to the next chapter. Before you wonder, I’m not going there for Dubai guy. I didn’t even tell him because I’m going there for myself, new experiences, a job I love, and of course the tax free salary, and I want to do it without a relationship in tow. Plus I’m a lesbian now 💁🏻

My rocks when shit hit the fan

wedding selfie

But this transition has made me think about those I’m leaving behind.
A couple of years ago I was in a different place, and I wanted to let my friends from home (Exmouth) know that I will never forget the initial support I got from them when my confidence was shattered. I had daily inspirational positive quotes from one, anecdotes and stories from similar experiences in their lives from the others, constant support when I needed it. You can’t forget things like that, and that’s what friends are for.

Once I moved more central I decided I needed to live the life my 70 year old self would be proud of. I want to tell my grandkids what a great life I led in my twenties, to inspire my future generations (assuming I have sprogs).

Hammering in my good times to home friends got tiresome for them, which at the time I took great offence to. I thought they should be visiting me in London to go out partying, be happy that I was living the dream. But it took me a little while to realise my lifestyle wasn’t relatable to those back home, and I accepted it.

Wallies

But even though our lives are so different, they’re the ones who I grew up with, shared the same teachers, shared our first underage drinking experiences ‘down the maer’ ,wrote eachother notes during class, used disposable cameras, wore Bench jackets and Pete’s Place flares thinking we were at the height of fashion, and all got our bellybuttons pierced at the same time. Home friends are what give you your grounding in life, without them I wouldn’t be where I am and I’m truly grateful to have them in my life, even if we don’t speak as much as we used to.

When you move cities, you make friends quickly and the likelihood is you’ll see them a few times a week, so your friendship gets strong really quickly. It’s in these instances where it’s not about the length of time you’ve known someone, but the quality of friendship you have. I made the best friends at uni and we always have a twice-yearly meet up, one holiday and another night out in one of our home towns or somewhere random, which I know will never stop. We are committed friends.

My uni babes

The threesome

And then there are my London friends. No they didn’t know me when I was in school uniform, nor have I cried on them because I had an argument with my mum and she was ‘so unfair’, but they’ve known me at full maturity and been there for my ‘adult’ situations. These are the ones I’ve been to festivals with, Michelin starred restaurants with, shopped with without worrying about the bank balance, been on holiday with and hands down had the best times of my life with.

I am looking forward to making new friends in a new country and I’m so lucky to already have great ones there, but I won’t lie, it’s a scary thought leaving some behind. It’s times like this when you identify who your real friends are. I have been overwhelmed with messages of support with my move, honestly I didn’t think it would make that much of an impact, but the level of friendship I have is what I can only call priceless.

So I’m expecting my weekends to be filled with visitors, and I already know of three of you wanting to follow suit and join me in Doobs, which I hope happens!!

I’ll miss you all…

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I was in a three year relationship, single for nine months then back into a four year relationship topped with mortgage and cat. It’s been two years since my singledom (single freedom) began and I have loved every single (no pun intended) second.

I’m not being bitter and trying to offend all my friends and those who are in relationships, as I think relationships are great. I have many married and settled coupled-up friends who are happy as Larry and I would never tell them that being single is better than being in their relationships. So this post is for single people (please don’t blame me for break-ups after reading).

Between the Sheets

Let’s talk about the bed situation. We have it all to ourselves (apart from the odd Saturday morning when we’ve woken up with an arm and a leg sprawled across a visitor), but the majority of the time we can starfish the shit out of our Egyptian cotton. Wriggle room a-plenty. We can also stay in bed as long as we like on Saturday mornings without feeling like we should really be making the most of the weekend off together with our other halves. Just you and me, beddy.

No one to Answer to

Remember the days of ‘what time do you reckon you’ll be home?’ texts. Gone are those. We can rock up at 4am and sleep on the doormat for an hour before stumbling up the stairs and on top of our beds (because sometimes we don’t have the capacity to pull the covers over us after drinking) and no one will demand the bloody Spanish Inquisition as to where we’ve been and why we didn’t let them know.

Freedom of Choice

A lot of my friends have dedicated date nights and dedicated friend nights. I just have a ‘yes’ ethos. My diary is busier than Piccadilly Circus because I find it hard saying no when someone wants to do something. I have options most evenings which I have the choice to pick from, if I’m asked to a launch party on the day, I don’t have to let my boyfriend down by choosing to attend that over Nando’s with him. No guilt= good times. I must also add that I do like a night in, I mean I cherish those nights. Going out all the time is fattening.

Learning

This is our time to learn what we like and what we don’t like in the opposite sex. Dating’s purpose is to essentially find a potential life partner, but we rarely find them straight away. A diamond in the rough takes a lot of time to source, and during this period of singledom we will come across and meet an array of people who we learn from. Mainly ‘we never want to date a weirdo like that again’ but we still learn. We will meet people in various ways, some we have a lot in common with, some not so much. Even if it’s discovering that we’re attracted to someone with an interest in Ornithology, who new!

Travel

Now, before you start, I know you can travel with your partner. It’s one of my goals to travel the world with my future boyfriend/fiancé/husband/morelikelycat, so I’m not saying you can’t do that without having the best time. I’m talking about holidays, travelling with friends, doing everything you want without having to be aware of and think *I shouldn’t really go to this club in Bali tonight because I know the guys we met at the airport will be there and I will find it hard to resist temptation * .Get it out of your system while you’re young and single then you won’t have any regrets or resentment when you settle.

These are just my personal bests from single life. There are many more and there are obviously disadvantages to being single as well: wedding invites -1, being the third wheel to your loved up couple mates, sex is no longer on tap (unless you put out easily, but no one wants to be riddled so maybe steer clear of being easy), spooning, stealing food off their plate…the list goes on. But while you’re single you shouldn’t be sad about these things because you’ve either already had all that and it didn’t work out for a reason, or you’ve got it all to come with someone made for you, all in good time.

In the meantime, squeeze the crap out of single life, live it to the full and make the most of it because chances are you won’t be single forever (unless you’re a total twat).

“You must meet so many guys being in London?” a friend of mine who doesn’t live in London asked. Short answer, no.

I mean in the literal sense, yes of course I meet males, daily, I work in a male dominated industry (then again what industry isn’t?) and my female to male ratio of friends is about 50/50. But in a romantic sense, no. And I’m not the only girl to have this ‘problem’ I mean there isn’t a *shortage of men epidemic in London*, in fact there are 155 men per 100 women in the City of London alone, according to the Future Foundation think tank (June 2014). So what I want to know is, why the hell do my friends or I never get chatted up (by normal men)?

Now before this sounds arrogant or ‘poor me’ ish, and you’re thinking ‘alright love what do you expect, hoards of Armani models falling over themselves for you?’ No. I’m no Michelle Keegan, but I have some really bloody hot friends, and they all, every (literal) single one has said they never get chatted up when out.

Firstly, let me make it clear that I am not desperate for a boyfriend, or to settle down. I’m no longer on dating apps (as you can probably guess from my lack of dating posts, soz fans) and I’ve only been on one date this year, which has probably outdone my two years of dating thus far, but I won’t go into that because you’ll all get far too jealous and my head is big enough about that one.

But to juxtapose this statement of ‘I’m not looking’, I also am not closed to the idea if it happens. For example if Channing Tatum was sans wife and beautiful child and asked if I would consider dating him, I would start wedding dress shopping. If something happens and feels right (or if said date proposed) I won’t fight it ;p

Second of all, gaining the right kind of male attention is what I’m talking about. The majority of my nights out, granted, consist of dining with a girl-friend then maybe a drink after at a bar, before collapsing in (my) bed by 11 with a stomach full of Malbec and three courses worth of food. So no I don’t expect to meet the man of my dreams while chopsticking my sashimi in a restaurant on the next table. But there is the odd occasion I do go out- out. It is on these odd occasions one would expect to engage in intelligent (drunken, tequila fuelled) conversation at the bar with males. Alas, no. The majority of the sorts of guys who have (rarely) approached me have not been my type (they’ve been absolutely blotto’ed, or mingers, or blotto’ed mingers and I’ll have to pretend I’m engaged or a lesbian to get rid.)

In example. On Saturday night I went out out. I was with a babe of a friend and we were in a rather male dominated bar. The only guy I spoke to all night in said bar was my first ever Tinder date whom I randomly bumped into. Side note: The reason we didn’t have a second date was because we both turned up wearing nigh-on identical outfits: a Barbour jacket, burgundy jeans, suede camel shoes (though to be fair mine were wedge boots), so from the get go it was awks, though we clearly both have amazing style…

We spotted eachother on the dance floor and I introduced him to my friend and relayed the awkward first date story, which luckily he found hilarious as well (and he’s not a minger) but that was the end of that. We all got our separate Ubers home and I was in bed prepped for another hangover as the sun rose.

Now I don’t complain about these things without getting both sides to a story. So being lucky with having male friends who are totes honest, I put it to them.

Ladies this is interesting so listen, the feedback I got was.. guys are scared of rejection:

“If I saw a worldy in a bar, to be honest I would assume she was definitely not single, and if I went up to her and she told me where to go, then my ego would be shot to pieces.”

“Girls are intimidating. Hot girls are terrifying”

“I play it safe and either go home with someone that was clearly eyeing me up all night, who usually would be average, or wait for a girl to approach me. If she’s a stunner then it’s a bonus.”

So why do we girls have it in our heads that the chatting-up etiquette should be the guy who has to approach the girl?

For me it’s a tradition thing, as a woman I was taught (by my dad, ledge) that we should be courted, chased, be worked for. But it’s modern dayz init, and guys seem to be lacking confidence and fearing the lack of the unknown. With social media and the likes of Tinder and Happn dominating our ‘dating’ lives, people are hiding behind online personas. When we are faced with the real thing, we freeze, we don’t know how to deal with it unless we’re absolutely smashed. Which really is quite sad.

But I also get the rejection thing on a man’s part. Thinking to my lesbian or engaged excuses, if the guy knew that I had made such an outrageous excuse to not give him the time of day, he would probably not have chatted the next girl up out of fear of rejection.

So to conclude, ladies if you’re not getting chatted up, maybe bite the bullet and make eye contact. If they don’t do it back, move on. Don’t force it, things happen when you least expect it. You might not meet the man of your dreams on a night out anyway. And I probably need to take my own advice.

Today marks the beginning of the next stage in my life. Deep, cheesy even, but true. (deep & cheesy totally just made me think of pizza)..

It has taken eight laborious months to complete the sale of mine and the exes home, and 2 years since I finished with his sorry ass (though he never actually was sorry, or at least never told me he was). Today it was all confirmed and I handed (chucked with joy) my keys over. I instantly paid off my credit card in full meaning no more debt lurking over me and whispering in my ear when I see a pair of Louboutins flash it’s red sole at me on the other side of the glass.

My fav responses to when I found out the completion date

The last two years, although I’ve admittedly had the best time of my life..so far (being single has been frickin’ awesome), they’ve also been a burden. I’ve had this property and liability of a mortgage hanging over me but I instantly feel a sense of freedom, exhilarated if you will. I have zero commitment apart from paying my rent and smashing my career, it literally feels like a massive weight has been lifted and I’m a very positive person already, so this has just made me realise how strained I actually felt.

At the same time something else happened, call it a coincidence, call it fate, whatevs. I was contacted by an old colleague of mine whom I hadn’t seen in over a year but she thought of me because of my writing and obsession with fashion and beauty. She gave me a proposal of setting up my own business as part of the fastest growing global beauty, health and wellness brand for men and women- Arbonne. I met up with her and everything just fell into place. I agreed to test the products and started getting compliments after two days of using them, the eye bags I carry around on a daily basis have totally vanished (god, how sales-ey did that sound). Anything that works miracles (trust me, my bags keep YSL’s Touche Eclat in business) like that is worth an investment, not to mention the following it has by Kim K, among various other A-listers. It’s totally botanical so vegans will love it, and also ships worldwide so if you’re wanting sun-damage-free skin in Dubai, I can work that miracle 😉

I’m in the early stages but essentially I now have my own business aside from my 9-5 job in advertising and psychology which I also love and dedicate 100% of my working hours to. Link to the eye stuff I’ve been using: http://www.arbonne.com/PWS/TanishaSakhawat/store/AMUK/product/Hydrating-Eye-Crème-7385,2312.aspx

So I don’t know what this all means, I haven’t always been the luckiest but I’m the most appreciative and grateful. If you have an easy ride in life then you won’t know how to deal with the crap when it inevitably surfaces.  Maybe we need to stop being a ‘poor me’ society and just do what we can to make ourselves happy.

I am totes ready for the next chapter, be it expanding my business, heading up the next company office, marrying a tall dark and handsome babe abroad..(!) or focussing on having the best time without worrying. Bring. It. On.

This is what they call closure. Everyone needs it. Now excuse me while I spend this bank holiday weekend getting well and truly SLOSHED.

When Monica and Chandler fell in love it just worked. They were friends first with no other intentions, but it just happened didn’t it. So how do you know if you can fall in love with your best friend? Would it not jeopardise years of friendship if you risked admitting unrequited love?

I have a friend (yes a friend, not me!) who is totally in love with a male friend, he has no idea but she won’t tell him her feelings for risk of failing the friendship. But what if he feels exactly the same way about her and neither of them are admitting how they feel to the other?

New York social psychologist, Dr. Grace Cornish avers that romances that begin as friendships are more likely to succeed:

“As friends first, you like each other first. You develop a respect for each other. You’re looking out for each other’s best interests. I urge people–marry your best friend.”

I have another friend who had feelings for her best friend, she would give him advice on dates and how to be with women, and she ended up falling for him, so much so that she told him. Her feelings were reciprocated and they are now living happily ever after in South London, well in separate shared house
s but they have a pretty good thing going. They are still best friends but with the added bonus of sex and other coupley things.

I’ve never fallen for a friend. I’ve always thought you become attracted to someone initially (fancy them) then fall for their personality, so a friendship organically develops, as well as the attraction side of things. I’ve never found it possible to find an existing close friend of the opposite sex attractive in that way, but a lot of people do. Then again, if an old friend who I haven’t seen in years popped up, you get to know them again I guess..

It’s an interesting concept. If you have someone who already knows everything about you and is actually in love with you for the good, bad and ugly (no make-up mornings) then you don’t have to pretend to be ‘cool girl’ (Gone Girl reference) at the beginning until you’ve ‘made’ them fall in love with ‘cool girl’ you, because they already know you’re cool. No false pretences, they already know you’re a psycho (all girls are really). You’ve got it made, surely?

Still, if you really fancy your best friend and they don’t know it yet, I would just do it, tell them. If it doesn’t work then your friendship should still stand the test if it was strong enough before. Yeah it might be a bit awks for the first couple of weeks but at least you’ve got the summer to get over the rejection!

Grabbing my copy of Stylist from the most unfriendly vendor outside Brixton tube station, like thousands of commuting women, has become somewhat of a Wednesday morning routine. I relate to the content, I am their target audience, but today the main feature captured me like no other.

Leading with it’s cover story ‘I Just Don’t Like Kids’ prompted me to flick past the first half of the magazine and get stuck into the feature named ‘The Great Baby Debate’. It covered real women who share their honest opinions and experiences on the increasingly growing taboo subject, having children- or not.

Four women wrote open letters on the subject, with each relating, no doubt, to every type of woman. Except one, but I’ll go onto that later.

One woman writes of her decision to never want children, and feeling judged all the time by child bearers for choosing that path, but being happily married at 37 and choosing her dog over a son or daughter. Another writes of her painful plight not being able to have children, trying so hard that it broke her marriage down until she was single, childless and had to accept she will forever be childless.

A mother writes to women who don’t want children, describing her experiences as amazing, after having her first child aged 22 she went on to get a first class honours at university and since has had a second child and is utterly in love with motherhood, but also admits it’s no walk in the park. While the last letter is from a woman who is trying so hard to get pregnant, again feeling judged, and envious at her friends all popping sprogs so easily.

These four women represent the four main types of women when it comes to opinions on having children. The only thing they all had in common was some sort of sacrifice they had to make. Either not wanting to sacrifice their current lives, or get married and try to get pregnant because time is running out, or having to give up university. Each one was a story of sacrifice and giving up on something, which is true, but nothing should feel like a sacrifice if you’re truly content.

I believe there is a new age of woman in my generation. I don’t mean the Arianna Huffington’s or Sheryl Sandburg’s of the world who run successful businesses and manage children simultaneously, but I mean women like me. Young enough not to be thinking ‘I’m past children’, but old enough to realise if I want them or not, one day. For those who say you can’t have it all, I disagree, but I do agree that you can’t have it all at the same time.

I have two main groups of friends, one group back home in Devon who are mostly all settled, mortgages, married, kids, happy with their lives. Then I have my London friends, mostly single, mostly going on umpteen dates to sift through the rubbish, all renting shared flats or houses, out four nights a week, work 10 hour days, have a lot of disposable income for midweek dinners at top restaurants and any day off is spent in another country. Work hard play hard types. And I unashamedly fall into the latter category (bar the umpteen dates bit).

So this new woman age that I think Stylist missed, is this, and I’ve said it before: I believe if we have ‘lived’ and what I mean by lived, is work our butts off so that we can afford to ‘live’, go out whenever the hell we like without thinking ‘I need to save for the kids’, buy whatever we like (within reason), spend money on experiences, holidays, travel; jump on the Eurostar to Paris for a day if we want (it takes less time to get there than for me to go home to Devon for crying out loud), so that when we find ‘the one’ and we know he’s definitely baby daddy material, there’s still no rush to start taking folic acid and raid Boots for ovulation kits. But it means you can live happily knowing you haven’t missed anything in your own life, before taking on another.

Carry on the adventure with your loved one, ensure they have experienced enough too. The last thing you want is an off balance relationship whereby you have lived your life to the full and are totally ready to settle down and forgo nights out in Chinawhite, for a screaming child and sleepless nights, while he would rather be at a strip club at 3am than stripping nappies. So this new age, I believe if you’ve been there, done it, lived it out and feel you have fulfilled your life with enough experiences that you’re ready to dedicate your life and spend no time on yourself for the next eighteen years, then yes, you can have it all.

Exactly a week ago I was sat on the twenty third floor of a hotel overlooking the glittering lights of Dubai while drinking an Espresso Martini with two old friends, and a certain someone else. We had just been to the tasting at the opening of a brand new Michelin starred restaurant downtown and were uncomfortably full of good food and copious cocktails.

Exactly two weeks ago I was nursing the mother of new year hangovers which followed a VVIP (no idea what the extra ‘V’ stands for #soDubai) night at The Meydan; dancing away to my teenage tunes, watching N.E.R.D and Pharrell, Busta Rhymes and some other famous singers who turned into a blur with every Belvedere and cranberry I consumed.

At midnight I had as much Dutch courage as a tulip growing under a windmill (that’s very Dutch) and when the clock struck midnight we were stood on a (now heavily cranberry stained) white sofa, in the open air as Pharell counted down from 10 and fireworks started exploding in the background from the World’s tallest building. I said it. The L word. He said it back. Then I thought ‘shit’. I haven’t said the ‘L’ word for almost two years and I didn’t think I would again to be quite honest. This was big.

I don’t remember much else, apart from trying to hail a massive Range Rover while holding my shoes helplessly by their heels, and offering the driver £50 for a lift back home. He declined apparently, so we ended up on a bus halfway home, followed by a taxi the rest of the way and making friends with the driver, standard. The day after was, possibly,  the best hungover new years day to date, spent with this certain someone else.

The certain someone else, if you’re a regular follower you may have guessed, was the infamous ‘Dubai Guy’. He does have a name, I promise.

We spent the following two weeks sampling food from the best restaurants in Dubai, being treated like royalty (at Zengo, definitely recommend that place) and staying in another (I hate me too) five star hotel in a neighbouring Emirate. Luckily all free as he (and I) were invited (blagged) to review them. We had beach days, pool days, picnic days, drunk days, sad days (remembering a passed loved one on the beach and toasting to her life) and lazy days. We were living the champagne lifestyle on lemonade money, but we didn’t have to pretend.

Before getting sickly sweet on you and making you vom up your hobnobs, I think it’s an understatement to say it was a bloody good holiday. SO, what now? Dilemma. We knew it would come to this. We both have great jobs we’d be stupid to leave and migrate across continents so soon, so I guess it’s the cliche of ‘if it’s meant to be, it will be’. Pressure isn’t in my vocabulary, but apparently the ‘L’ word is. So if it is strong enough, I guess (another cliche coming up) it will find its way. How? I have no bloody idea, no clue. I’ve never been one for choosing the easy option.

Right now? I’m sat in Cafe Nero on Tottenham Court Road drinking a much less glamorous espresso mocha, from a cup made by a company called ‘Solo Cup Europa’. What a difference a week makes..

Update: Dubai guy was seeing another girl all along, I didn’t love him, I was infatuated with the lifestyle and I loved that. I had a great time with him and I learned a lot- mostly how not to let myself guard down for the third time.. another one bites the dust !

From Espresso martini to Espresso mocha

I’m going to be 26 soon. With this coming into fruition in a few weeks, I had a little think about what I’ve learnt and how I’ve changed in the last five years. Below are seven key things that I would advise based on my learnings over the last five years:

Live your life, not someone else’s

Yes your life might already consist of sharing a partner’s, living for your children, and standing by their decisions, but that shouldn’t stop you from taking time to do what you want to do. I was a marine’s girlfriend for four years and I planned my life around his, without feeling any sort of resentment. It was only when we broke up that I realised I wasn’t living the life I had dreamed. I am now.

Look after number one

My grandad’s advice. This doesn’t mean be selfish. If you don’t love and look after yourself, then you aren’t equipped to do it well enough for others.

Be positive in everything you do

I have times when I cry for absolutely no reason and feel sorry for myself, then I bring myself back down to earth by thinking about how bloody lucky I am compared to so many others. Remembering there is always someone worse of than yourself goes a long way into feeling gratitude.

Encourage others

No matter what, encourage friends to live their ambitions. If they aren’t happy where they work and you can see it’s bringing them down, help them. The best feeling for me is helping and encouraging others. Once they’ve achieved what they’ve wanted and tell you that you’ve been a part of that process, it’s more rewarding than anything material.

Don’t be upset about change

Filter out the negative influences in your life. An old best friend who does nothing but criticise others? Get rid. You will naturally attract positive influences and new friends without actively seeking it. It just happens. Change can mean losing ten fair-weather friends but gaining a handful of amazing ones who will be your go-to for everything. But don’t forget where you came from. I’m from a small town, living in London. I will never forget where I came from but I always knew where I wanted to go.

Spend it

I don’t mean get in loads of debt, but if you want that dress, jacket, whatever, buy it without feeling guilty. One day (if you don’t already) you’ll not be able to spend your money without thinking about someone else first. Responsibilities pile up quickly, so as long as your bills are paid, there’s no point in having thousands in the bank if you haven’t had any experiences. At least you’ll look back at your twenties knowing you had fun, treated yourself enough, and can then start saving for a new car/house/cot.

Be spontaneous

Don’t be stupid, but a bit of spontaneity breaks a routine. Instead of planning months ahead for a weekend away, bloody go this weekend. My 25^th year has been all about spontaneity and it has, hands down, been the most exciting year of my life so far.

Have no regrets. Live the dream. Look forward to your thirties (Shiiiiiiit). Learn more

A modern day ‘fairy tale’? I disagree. The modern day fairy tale should encompass everything about the traditional, chivalrous Cinderella type fairy tale. But we’re lacking one thing. Conscience.

Guys are rarely chivalrous on a Tinder date, I mean how many people are really expecting to find their future wives on an app? If it happens, then great, the future of Best Men speeches will be riddled with Tinder inspired jokes of how the happy couple met. And you know, there’s nothing wrong with that, if couples are genuinely meeting this way and falling in love. However, the percentile of that happening is low.

Tinder is usually a platform in which we fancy the photos, possibly meet up, get blind drunk on the entire cocktail menu, then inevitably- if you’re part of the majority- get lucky. I have a friend who did a similar thing to this video. She went on a Tinder date, nothing untoward happened, a few weeks later he got back in touch, they met for a drink or six, and she went back to his. She snuck out of his apartment at around 1am once he had started snoring and ordered her Uber outta there.

Bad decisions make for good stories, but for her it wasn’t necessarily a bad decision. She knew he wasn’t marriage material, but she wanted to take advantage of the situation, so she did. How many times do you hear about guys having one night stands and never calling again? Well this time it seems, whether right or wrong, girls have the upper hand.

But no, we as girls don’t want to get a name for ourselves, so we still dote on the fact that we want the fairy tale ending, the prince charming to court us and shower us with gifts. But when we actually get a guy like that, we think he’s a bit keen and it puts us off..unless.. we like him first. If we are obsessed with a guy, then he starts the showering, that makes us happy, Cinderella eat your heart out.

So, my point. This video points out the very disappointingly realistic reality of dating today. Whether we like it or not, it happens. A lot. But it’s no fairy tale. I really hope there is more to girls and boys these days, I hope it’s a temporary phase of this generation and what we all eventually want, is ye olde happy ending- the traditional way.

A lot has happened since my last post.. Dubai guy had a work trip to Ascot and we stayed at Cowarth Park, part of The Dorcester Collection luxury hotels. It was a perfect weekend. While he played golf for work at Wentworth, I relaxed in the roll top bath, ordered room service, walked the grounds, then joined him to watch The Ryder Cup with the Director of the golf club, among other journalists.

We went out for lunch, drank good wine, relaxed in our robes back in the room then said our goodbyes on the Monday morning, back to work as normal.

Two weeks after that, I flew to New York where we met again. We stayed in a tower suite on the 51st floor of The New York Palace hotel on Madison Avenue, where neither of us would dream of being able to afford for a weekend, but luckily his job meant we stayed at the compliements of the hotel.

We got lost among the skyscrapers, had brunch, drank champagne (and tequila) till 5am and sipped on cocktails at a speakeasy. We had real American food and bumped into Cara Delevigne in Bloomingdales. It was another wondrous weekend together.

Now what? We live on different continents and we aren’t in an exclusive relationship, we both have great jobs in said continents and neither of us are going to be moving any time soon. So, is my international dating idea a bad one?

I know it can’t work (we have both said we can’t do a long distance relationship) I know that there are potential relationship opportunities in London right under my nose. And yes, I know it’s stupid and I shouldn’t put all my eggs in one basket..