This is how it all started..

Wednesday 10 october 2007

I am Bridget Jones.. not. But I so feel like a Bridget Jones!

Today is the first day in the life of my diary. I feel I have to write something very special to mark the occasion. But i'm not sure what would qualify as important enough. Hum.. I think I will just write a little about me.

I have been in Dubai for quite some time now, at least so it seems to me. I have met lots of people, real nice folks, nasty bastards and bitches, the average John Doe. And of course guys! In all my time in Dubai I have had a couple of boy-friends only, but i have come across lots of guys, mostly the Daniel Cleaver type, but quite a bit of the Mark Darcy one too.

How come I am still single then? Good question! After deep musing in dim-lit surroundings with soothing background music to aid the thinking process, it has magically dawned on me that the Mark Darcy type bores me to tears, and the Daniels of Dubai are too random players (aka the hit-and-run type) for my mom to approve of.

It also came to light that I am quite a disgrace at the seduction game when I truly like a guy. I either get tongue-tied and awkward around him or else I blurt out the most unlikely things and accumulate gaffe upon gaffe. Or I alternate between the two! So much so that I actually send out a loud and clear message that I am not interested! I am! I am!

And then, there are the other guys. The ones whom at best I find marginally interesting. They provoke no dizzying feeling in the stomach, no oh-my-God-I-must-not-drool-sharp-intake-of breath. Around them, I can be anything of my multi-faceted personality depending on my mood, girl-next-door, witty minx, charming princess, girlish pixie, sophisticated diva, demure lady, you name it I'm on it. As a result, I attract all the wrong guys - those I am not really interested in.

Oh, every now and then I make a superwoman effort to act cool and sophisticated with someone I like. It usually ends up with me looking stupid (like I dont recognise that it's a lemon and not some kind of fizzy ball polluting my Perrier) or downright pretentious (speaking with some foreign accent which the waiter struggles with). That is, when my date has not figured out that I'm putting up an act of being Miss Cool Cucumber.

So that's my dating rituals in Dubai. Well, a snapshot of. I must go now and start thinking soon what to order for dinner, else I'll end up opening a tuna can like yesterday because I spent too much time on the net and then was too hungry to wait for the delivery man. (I don't cook - thank God this does not have to come up until like the 10th date hopefully, and by then he'd be too hooked up on gorgeous me to be alarmed that I can only burn food, ha!)

© Copyrighted Dubai's Own Bridget Jones

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