She Wolf

The first time I heard Shakira's new song She Wolf, I was not impressed. Don't get me wrong. I'm huge Shakira fan and have been listening to her since someone first played me one of her Spanish songs when I live in Costa Rica - when by the way, she was still just a girl from Colombia who hadn't made it big in the US and had yet to die her hair all blond and get an amazing body...

As usual, I digress. Anyway, She Wolf... I like it now. I still think that her howling in the background is kind of annoying but it's a catchy tune with a good beat and recently I had a look at the words. Check out my favorite verses:

Sitting across the bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's going to get her way

Nocturnal creatures are not so prudent

The moon's my teacher, and I'm here student

To locate the single men, I got on me a special radar

And the fire department hot line in case I get in trouble later

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys that just want to enjoy

But having a very good time and behave very bad in the arms of a boy

For some odd reason, I feel like I can relate to this song. I like that she calls men in bars "prey." And also, I especially like the use of the "divos." Plus, she looks super hot in the video (although definitely channeling her inner stripper). Check it out here.

By the way, speaking of Spanish which we weren't really... I'm going to spend the 3 day bank holiday weekend in Barcelona partying and hanging out with my younger brother (who currently lives in Barcelona and plays awesome music - by the way, my brother and I are like total opposites, I'm a workaholic, my brother is an artist -  no one really understands his job situation but at least he's living life unlike me who's working my life away) I can't wait. I hope it will be fun.

Last year I spent the long May holiday weekend in Amsterdam for Queen's Day. That was pretty crazy between the attempt on the Queen's life (one of the girl's we were was the niece of one of the people who died), wearing obnoxious amounts of orange, participating in massive street parties, cruising the canals, checking out the infamous red light district, drinking heavily all day, and participating in other things that are illegal everywhere else but Holland. (By the way, Amsterdam has to be one of my most favorite cities ever... and not because of the legality of certain substances - believe me that's not really my thing - however... when in Rome... or Amsterdam). But alas, I was with the beautiful Swede and we did spend much of the time fighting... So, this year I'm counting on my brother to show me a good time in "his city." He usually delivers. So, I'm not that worried. It's going to be great! And this year, I'm single - so no worrisome boyfriend picking fights about money (I was paying so I couldn't understand why he was complaining), or doing other annoying things like deciding to smoke an entire joint basically on his own despite my warning that this might not be a good idea for the following reasons:

1. He wasn't exactly an experienced smoker - this was like the second time in his life he had ever partaken in this activity
2. He is Swedish and Swedes in general are not very accustomed to the use of illegal substances (this is obviously a good thing - just sayin)
3. It just seemed like a bad idea... (and I have learned that my gut instinct is usually pretty good)

 Let's just say that the day's activities ended with us exiting the "Coffee Shop" walking 3 blocks and him deciding he needed to sit down immediately (in the middle of the road in fact) for an hour to recover before we could make our way to a table at a restaurant where the bartender took pity on him and brought him water with sugar in it (which did seem to help) and where I sat there and told he he wasn't really dying... he was just high. Finally we managed to make our way back to the hotel room and call it a night at a ridiculously early hour (yes, another fight then ensued).

Anyway, I'm sure I will have some interesting updates on my Barcelona trip coming at you shortly. I plan to embrace my inner She Wolf and give those Spanish boys a run for their money. Stay tuned! Awhooo!

An Email from Mom

So, my Mother sends me an email today... and I can't help but share it.

The subject is: A Beautiful Parable

My Mother then writes...
This made me think of you and our conversation yesterday. You can’t control everything the way you want to. You just have to let it flow and it will happen exactly the way it is supposed to.


Love Mom

As many emails do these days, this one had an attachment with an inspirational story meant to change your life. Let me copy paste the story below. Read it carefully and think about the message.

A woman came out of her house and saw 3 old men with long white beards sitting in her front yard. She did not recognize them. She said, "I don't think I know you, but you must be hungry. Please come in and have something to eat."


"Is the man of the house home?" they asked.
"No," she replied. "He's out."
"Then we cannot come in" they replied.


In the evening when her husband came home, she told him what had happened.
"Got tell them I am home and invite them in!"


The woman went out and invited the men in.
"We do not go into a House together" they replied.
"Why is that?" she asked.
One of the old men explained: "His name is Wealth he said pointing to one of his friends, and said pointing to another one, "He is Success, and I am Love." Then he added, "Now go in and discuss with your husband which one of us you want in your home."


The woman went in and told her husband what was said. Her husband was overjoyed. "How nice!" he said. "Since that is the case let us invite in Wealth. Let him come and fill our home with wealth!"
His wife disagreed. "My dear, why don't we invite Success?" Their daughter-in-law was listening from the other corner of the house. She jumped in with her own suggestion: "Would it not be better to invite Love? Our home will then be filled with love!"


"Let us heed our daughter-in-law's advice," said the husband to his wife. "Go out and invite Love to be our guest."
The woman went out and asked the 3 old men "Which one of you is Love? Please come in and be our guest."


Love got up and started walking toward the house. The other 2 men also got up and followed him. Surprised, the lady asked Wealth and Success"I only invited Love. Why are you coming in?"


The old men replied together. "If you had invited Wealth or Success, the other two would have stayed out, but since you invited Love, we go with him. Wherever there is Love, there is also Wealth and Success!"

And then the foot note said: Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's learning how to dance in the rain! We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust our sails. (I do kind of like the footnote by the way)

So? What is the moral of this story folks? What was your impression? Other than the predictable ending, did anything else strongly jump out at you?

Well, I wrote my mother back to tell her:

"Thank you Mom for reminding me that first I need a man of the house in order to invite Love, Success and Wealth into my life!"

Seriously, the woman had to wait until her husband came home before they would let her invite them in! I wondered if my Mother was trying to subtly tell me something...

The previous night my Mother and I had our usual Sunday night conversation where I complain about being overworked and underpaid and unsure of what direction I want my life to go in and the fact that I'm no longer sure I'm prioritizing the right things. Next I talk about different changes I'm contemplating while expressing frustration about how difficult it is to figure out what the next step is (thus my Mother's preceding comment to the attachment) to actually make positive changes happen. This usually and inevitably leads to a general moaning about the fact that I am absolutely going to be single forever if I continue to relentlessly pursue my career and sacrifice any real semblance of personal life for work and work-related travel (I used to think that I could have it all, that it all would just come my way - but I'm starting to realize, it might not be that simple. Maybe to create change, you have to first make a change). And by the way, that this scares the bejeezus out of me since I'm not getting any younger and doing the same activities is producing not only the same results (i.e. work is continuing to dominate me while not much else in my life seems to be progressing forward), my Mother and I continue to have the same Sunday night conversation.

So, thank you Mom for finally pointing out what I have been doing wrong! It is all so clear to me now! All this time I've been prioritizing my career when I should have been prioritizing finding a man! As the story implies... if I have a man at home... and then I invite Love in then Wealth and Success will follow. Damn! I had it all backwards! All this time I thought it would be Success first then wealth then Love then a Man of the house. I'm very grateful to this little beautiful parable for helping me to get my priorities straight. Now... I'm off to find a man and solve all my problems!

If only it were that easy...

P.S As I have noted before, my Mother has always been my strong feminist role model, I'm sure her intentions were good. Love you Mom!

Not a cloud nor plane in the sky

Well the much anticipated spring/summer weather has finally come to London and I'm enjoying it immensely. Although I miss Stockholm very much, there are never warm days in April in Stockholm. Come to think of it... there are never really any warm days at all in Stockholm. I can just hear all the Swedes who read this blog getting defensive. Ok Sweden, I give you this: Midsommer 2005 was warm and so was most of the month of May of 2007. My 30th birthday in 2008 was also warm and nice and so was the day in 2008 that I ran the Kungsholmen Runt and then sat out in the park. But as you can see... if I can remember the warm days individually... they are unusual. What I do recall most strongly about spring/summer in Sweden is always having to bring a jacket, sitting outside at Thai Boat last June wearing hats and gloves, freezing on the beach in Gotland and putting away all summer clothes by September first - it's already winter by then. While I still favor Stockholm over London in so many ways, I am definitely going to make the most out of a warmer/longer London summer. I will however miss the long light.

But as usual... I digress. Back to the warm weekend in London.

It was a beautiful weekend. Although volcanic ash in the sky was making air travel impossible and forcing closure of all UK airports, the irony was the clear blue skies that graced the London sky (no ash in sight). It was strange to see the to see the skies so eerily quiet (I live on the flight path to Heathrow and have gotten used to the constant planes) and so brilliantly blue. Theoretically, last Saturday was actually the first warm day in London, but that was kind of just a warm-up (ha ha - get it) with this weekend producing both a beautiful and warm Saturday and Sunday. In fact, there was not a cloud (or a plane) in the sky either day.

The first dilemma one faces on the first warm weekend of the year however, is what in the world do you wear? I mean are you really ready to expose your pasty white winter skin for all to see? Are you ready to bare those pale legs or work those pale arms in that tank top? After a few uncomfortable minutes spent trying on half the clothes in my "summer" wardrobe, I decided I looked: pale, naked and cold and I concluded that summer clothes should only be worn with a tan. This posed for me a dilemma - how do you get a tan if you are all covered up?

Luckily I finally sorted out an somewhat appropriate outfit of multiple layers which consisted of a black maxi dress, a grey hoodie sweat shirt with 3 quarter sleeves, a grey light leather jacket, a blue scarf and silver flip flops (I'm not sure why I felt you needed to know the colors of the clothing but this did feel like an important detail when writing it). I have to say that I did feel a bit strange stepping out for the first time in my summer dress and flip flops and at first I wondered if I had overdone the summer thing. But then I got out to King's Road and saw plenty of women who had really overdone it - totally rocking their pasty white arms and legs in tube tops and short skirts and sandals. On the other hand you had people who apparently hadn't checked the weather forecast or paid any attention to the brilliant sunshine who were still wearing winter coats and Uggs. So, I decided I felt pretty good about my sort of summery outfit -glad not to be showing off my white legs nor wearing my winter boots. However, a few blocks later I realize that I had actually overdone it with the layers (it was hot - my thermometer read 26 degrees in the sun; sorry to all the Americans, I have honestly forgotten how to do Fahrenheit) and had to peel off first scarf, then jacket, then hoodie... So after all that, my white arms were all exposed and feeling strange to be let out in the sunshine for the first time since September! My white legs however did stay under wraps until I reached the safety of the park and the anonymity of all the other white pale exposed bodies desperately trying to soak up the first summer sun while blinding those who happened to look upon them without sunglasses.

I'm proud to say that after two days baking myself in the sun my face and arms and the front (yes only the front) of my legs are very tan. I also probably have skin cancer. Sun worshipping is definitely an addiction. I learned it from my mother. Thanks Mom. However, I will keep praying for a cure to cancer rather than curing my sun worshipping addiction (although I do actually wear sun screen and spend less time in the sun now - I am trying... but like any addict, it's a slow process).

Other than the weather and the volcanic ash, the other notable event involved crashing a birthday party and drunk driving.

Of course my partner in crime was my sexy single Italian friend who I always manage to get up to some kind of trouble with. On Saturday night this meant crashing a 30th birthday party. Ok - she was invited to the party. I was crashing it - along with half the Italian population of London who she had also invited to crash the party (By the way, I LOVE the Italians - they are always fun to hang out with - and I promise I'm not saying this just because they read this blog). The night was absolutely perfect for a sunset cruise down the Thames. It was just warm enough to be outside until the sunset and the first Corona of the year tasted amazing (I do believe Corona is the best summer beer) and the music was fantastic thanks to the Ministry of Sound DJ's who kept the party going. The only unfortunate problem was that the party was lacking cute tall men to flirt with or perhaps I was lacking any ambition to do so after a very long hard week at work. All work and no play makes me a dull girl indeed.

But don't worry. As usual, things managed to get a little bit out of control and at one point rather late in the evening after at least 5 beers (on an empty stomach) my Italian Friend and I found ourselves actually driving the boat. Yes, this is indeed the scary truth. We charmed the Captain and took control of that party boat! (I mean did you expect any less of us)? Although we both managed to swerve the boat from side to side of the river causing the Captain to laugh his head off and every so often grab the wheel away from us to ensure that we didn't crash (it's harder then it looks to drive a boat), everyone else was too busy dancing to notice. But never fear, despite the drunk driving, the night had a happy ending and we all made it back to the pier safely! Phew. In fact, I was pleased since a boat ride on the Thames was on my list of "must do before I leave London." And actually getting to DRIVE the boat made it that much better!

But how about this volcano causing massive disruption to global travel? What chaos! I have colleagues stranded all over the world and I am just so selfishly happy that I am not one of them. It was a close call cuz as you remember, I was supposed to be in Brazil this week. My poor colleague I was supposed to travel is still totally stuck there. But to be honest, it's actually not really my colleagues I feel bad for - my company will take care of them. But my heart goes out to all these people who have ran out of money and are sleeping in the airports desperate to get back. Or children traveling alone trying to get back to a parent. Or school groups stranded. Or the people who have missed their wedding or other major life events. I count myself among the lucky.

I was supposed to be off to China today (and in anticipation have already been preparing a 10 things to love and hate about China post). But my flight has been cancelled. I'm actually really disappointed as I was looking forward to the China trip and I'm also nervous what rescheduling will mean. I have a Barcelona trip to see my brother coming up next week (I bet you can't wait for the Spanish post that is surely coming) and I'm worried that trip could possibly be in jeopardy due to the China rescheduling. So you see... life as an International Woman of Mystery can be very hard - especially when volcanoes in Iceland ruin your plans!

Happy Spring everyone!

I should have gone to Rio!

I was supposed to be in Brazil this week. It is true... I was supposed to be in Brazil today! In fact, today I was supposed to be in Rio. But instead... alas I'm still in London.

Ok - that sounds way cooler than it really is... I was supposed to be in Brazil for work. I was supposed to leave Monday night London time and arrive in Sao Paolo on Tuesday morning at 6am. The plan was to go check into the hotel and then go straight to the office and work the whole day. On Wednesday we would fly to Rio in the morning in order to meet with an absurdly difficult customer. Then we would fly back to Sao Paolo Wednesday night and then meet with the Brazilian team on all day Thursday and Friday. I would fly out late Friday night and arrive back in London late Saturday night (effectively killing most of my weekend). So as you can see, the trip sounded more glamorous than it ever would have been. Still... I was supposed to be in Rio right now.

But I had to cancel Rio for many reasons... including the fact that I need to be in China next week. And even for the International Woman of Mystery, 3 continents in 3 days is just too much.

So, for all of you who complain that I don't post enough... I will admit... I'm lacking fun things to write about right now as all I'm doing is working. I know I know... we are all very busy and important people. But just in case you don't believe that I am also a busy and important person (and to be honest - and I'm always honest - because I'm lacking any kind of fun dating adventures to share and generally lacking really any kind of creativity at all), and in case you are inclined to feel sorry for whinny people who blog about being too busy to blog, let me tell you about how my day went on Monday:

Monday April April 12th 2010 - A Day in the Life of the International Woman of Mystery...

3 am - I'm still working. I started working at 11 pm on Sunday evening... at 3 am I'm still working. However, I realize that it might be a good idea to go to bed soon as I realize that I must be in the office in 5.5 hours!

6 am - the alarm goes off with a hopeful sound.... I thought I might wake up feeling refreshed and jump out of bed and go for a run in the park before work! Instead, I wake up grumpy and tired and I realize I have only been asleep for 3 hours. I reset the alarm for a more reasonable time like 7:30.

7:30 - The alarm goes off again. I hit snooze for the next 40 minutes... I have to admit I'm a big snooze button addict. It's one of the great things of sleeping alone - you can hit snooze forever without anyone telling you to knock it off!

8:10 - I realize that if I do not get up soon, the house cleaner (who is supposed to come at 9 but is always annoyingly at least 40 minutes early) will be there (again) before I'm out of bed

8:11 - I drag myself out of bed cursing the world and begin to hurry up and get ready for work

8:20 - The house cleaner arrives. I make irritating conversation - irritating in part because she doesn't speak much English but mostly I'm not a morning person and she is always so damn cheerful. But I'm willing to forgive her because she does make my apartment really clean.

8:25 - The house cleaner points out to me that I haven't managed to buy bathroom cleaner even though she had asked me to last week... I realize I have been too busy to go to the grocery store in the past week. The grocery store closes at 21:00. I realize that sadly, I have not left the office before 21:00 in a week.

8:45 - I arrive at work. I say a grumpy hello to my team. Strangely enough work seems too familiar... I feel like I worked the whole weekend. Oh right. I did.

9:00 - Think about coffee but decide I don't have time to walk across the office and get one, and I definitely don't have time for the coffee room chat with colleagues that will surely ensue... Decide to forget about coffee and tackle my emails. One of the many joys of being an International Woman of Mystery is dealing with people in all time zones. In a normal job, you would wrap up emails at 3 am and come to the office and find you have no emails... Not so true when working with China. I amazingly had 26 new emails in my Inbox!

9:05 - Make a list of everything I have to do this week. I have two lists - a work one and a personal one... The funny thing is that the work one always gets crossed off and the personal one never does. Every week things like "find a doctor, talk to someone about my major back pain, track down my bank card to the only account of mine that has money in it, call my grandfather, email my brother" appear on the list but they never get crossed off

9:06 - Decide to go to China next week (as you do when you decide not to be in Brazil this week)

9:07 - Realize that my Chinese visa has expires on Tuesday. DAMN! That means I have to fit in 2 trips (one to drop it off and the other to get it) to the Chinese Embassy! Always a joyful experience. And it means processing a lot of paperwork. I loathe paperwork. I can't stand doing personal admin.

9:30 - Start the first very frustrating meeting of a day where we discuss the fact that a customer is not happy with the work we have done and we have to do it over

10:30 - Realize I double booked myself in meetings... Start meeting with the person I see first... hope to catch up with the next person later - continue frantic meeting cycle until around lunch time

12:00 - Think about lunch - continue with meeting

12:30 - Think about lunch again - continue my attempt to catch up on emails during my brief pause in meetings

13:15 - Colleague reminds me we have a meeting in 15 mins. Realize I must eat lunch of loose the opportunity. Run to the nearest place I can find and order something "quick."

13:25 - Realize that my idea of quick is very different from that of the employee of the cafe who is waiting on me. Make a mental not never to come here again. Ask them again to please hurry up. Frantically send emails from my Blackberry while impatiently tapping my foot

13:30 - Back at the office and happy to see that my colleague is also running late. Shove food into my mouth as quickly as possible while preparing for the meeting.

15:00 - Meeting over and before rushing into the next one manage to squeeze in a quick bathroom break - begin to actually contemplate not drinking any liquids during the day because I really feel that I don't have time to go to the bathroom... Realize this is a crazy thought and start to think that I might be a bit overworked

15:02 - Next round of meetings takes me through the rest of the afternoon

18:00 - Think about the fact that this is the time I "should" leave the office

18:01 - Start checking emails instead

18:30 - In need of something to look forward to (some light at the end of the dark tunnel I'm finding myself in), I start to count the weeks until I go on summer vacation - it's only 9 weeks away. I try to rationalize that this is actually a very short time... but I don't do a good job at convincing myself.

18:45 - Realize that I will feel better if I book my flight home - I do this and feel a moment of happiness knowing that I have actually crossed one thing off my personal "to do" list

18:46 - Think about the fact that my back is killing me (Stress makes it worse); think about the fact that my health is more important than any job and that I should really get someone to help me sort my back out

18:47- Get distracted by another email, forget about back - once again it remains an urgent item on my personal "to do" list

20:30 - Finally leave the office and rush home to change into gym clothes and run to the gym to try to work off some steam

10:15 - Arrive home from the gym

10:16 - Realize that since I haven't been to the supermarket in over a week, the only thing I have to eat are Ramen noodles - which is slightly worse than it sounds. I secretly love Ramen noodles and actually eat them often even when there is other food to eat

10:26 - Relax (finally) with a big bowl of Ramen Noodles while watching an episode of True Blood

10:27 - Think about the blog I should be writing... Feel guilty for sitting down relaxing rather than updating my wonderful readers with my wonderful (ummm.. or whatever it is these day) life

10:28 - Think about the work I should be doing...

10:29 - Think about the Match.com boys who I have been ignoring for the past weeks due to my enourmous workload. Am sure they must be missing me...

10:30- Think more about the work I should be doing...

10:31 - Give up on True Blood and open the computer

10:32 - Immerse myself in work

1:00 - Think that I should really go to bed...

2:00 - Finally turn off the computer, the lights and call it a night - half-heartily set the alarm for 6 am to go for a run (I know that I will skip it).

So that my friends is a day in the life of the International Woman of Mystery. And you thought all I did was drink and meet boys... ;)

It's possible I might have a more entertaining post next time... however I see no end in sight to the massive workload - so just warning you...

Easter Weekend: Top Ten List

I know you are all wondering what happened on my four day Easter Weekend with my super sexy single Swedish friend (check out that awesome use of alliteration).

So here is a quick update in list format! I love lists. (You have now been warned - plan to see more of them in the future).

Top Ten Things We Did NOT Do Over Easter Weekend:

1. Dress up as Easter Bunnies - sorry to disappoint you
2. Hunt for Easter Eggs - I couldn't convince my friend to play the Easter bunny (I should have bought her the costume...)
3. Sleep very much... In fact, we didn't actually go to bed before 4 am on any single night
4. Go to any museums or participate in any cultural activities outside of seeing the musical Chicago and having afternoon tea
5. Find amazing cute London men (we found plenty of men... but unfortunately no amazing ones... unless my friend begs to differ)?
6. Stay in and watch DVD's - we talked about doing this but of course we decided to pretend we are younger than we feel so we went out clubbing instead
7. Talk about Ex-boyfriends - nope we didn't do this NOT AT ALL; we are both so over our exes... ummm... (I might be lying a little bit here)
8. See any London tourist attractions - woops - this is the second time this friend has visited me and the second time that we didn't manage to do any sightseeing - she is such a bad influence on me!
9. Go to my favorite Chelsea nightclub - Valmont - which I'm still kind of sad about...
10. Drink enough water - we seemed to be in a constant state of hangover induced dehydration - despite the bottles of sparkling mineral water my friend insisted that we keep purchasing to ward off the evil hangovers...

Top Ten Things We DID Do Over Easter Weekend:

1. Drink - a lot (But you were expecting this right
2. Have afternoon Tea (with champagne of course) - and the best part is that we flirted with the waiter and somehow managed to get a ten pound discount (by the way, I still can't figure out how to make the pound sign on my computer so I have to write it out every time. If anyone knows where to find this, please tell me). If you are in London and don't want to pay top hotel prices but still want a fantastic afternoon tea, I suggest you check out The Botanist - and don't forget to flirt with the waiters! You just might get a good deal
3. See the musical Chicago - Very good! Very hot! Very Sexy! I recommend it!
4. Eat a lot - especially Indian food
5. Have drinks at the uber-trendy Zuma
6. Meet my sexy single Italian friend for dinner and talk about lots of fun girl stuff such as "size really does matter" and so does "lasting more than one minute" -sorry boys!
7. Have an after-party at my house with young obnoxious boys
8. Go to an after-party with old obnoxious boys (and on that note, I should have been a banker, I mean this guy had a 4 floor house in Chelsea! WTF! And I think my 2 bedroom apartment is kind of awesome - and extremely expensive).
9. Hang out with Swedish men - this is kinda the thing in my life - it seems like Swedes are everywhere... but the funny thing is that we crashed a colleague's birthday party and met his Swedish friends who were also visiting from Sweden and it was all very confusing how we all knew each other or where we had met before... (I will spare you the dramatic details here)
10. Go for a run in the rain until my friend begged me to go home (I secretly wanted to go home as well but it was more fun to blame the short workout on her)
11. (I actually can count... but I was on a roll decided to keep going here - it's my blog - I make the rules) Complain a lot about how tired we were because we kept getting home so late and not sleeping late enough
12. (Take really bad pictures of ourselves at a nightclub because we were bored - oh yes, there is obviously a whole Facebook montage just waiting to be posted...

Hope You all had a great Easter!

Easter Weekend!

Well it's day one of a four day bank holiday for Easter here in the UK! Wooohooo! I have just finished up what I hope will be the last of the work I have to do on the weekend (yes, always working even on the holidays cuz that's the kind of gal I am) and my sexy single friend is visiting from Sweden and we are ready to have some fun and meet some boys and basically spend the weekend participating in various forms of debauchery - see my post from earlier this week. However, just to show you that I do other things than drink and work. We are planning to go see the musical Chicago tomorrow and participate in an afternoon tea session (the kind with champagne included) on Easter Sunday. If we manage not to be too hung over... then we might go to a Museum or participate in my favorite thing to do (and yes, in my world this does count as a cultural experience) in walking distance to my flat - WALK AROUND HARROD'S! I love Harrod's. And I hear the pet section is a "must-see" and I haven't even checked that out yet.

On another note... Isn't it strange that in the United States you don't get ANY days off for Easter but the rest of the world seems to get both Friday and Monday off. You poor poor Americans. But America does have the Easter Bunny! Do you know that my Mother hid eggs for my brother and I to find until we were in our 20's! Seriously. The final year we refused to find them because we felt we needed to really prove to her we were "too old." Hmm... I wish someone would hide eggs for me this year. Maybe I can convince my friend to do that. ha ha... Actually, she brought me an Easter egg from Sweden so I guess that counts. And many clubs in London are giving free entrance to girls in bunny costumes. My friend and I are discussing whether or not we are going to rock that or just suck it up and pay the 20 pounds cover... Actually, it would be more fun to dress up! I'll let you know what we decide.

Well I'm off for a run on the Thames right now - see I do do other things than drink and work!

Oh, and by the way, I've been accused by several friends of not posting enough... so I'm going to attempt to do some shorter more meaningless posts that basically ramble on about nothing... Just warning you...

But not to leave you too dissatisfied, below I share some three very nice (ego-boosting) sweet nothings from the Match.com boys! As you can see... I'm certainly quite a catch - at least according to these strangers who have never met me but have just read my (kind of awesome) profile and checked out a few pictures.

Happy Easter Y'all!


Hey there...

You popped into my '5 New Matches' inbox a few days ago, and I couldn't resist sending you a quick email to say hello. Whether it is your profile, your looks, the fact you like peanut butter, or all three... I'm not sure? :o)

... but I was sure I should contact you.

I'd like to be able to tell you that I own a chocolate/peanut butter factory, or a shoe shop... alas I own neither :o( What I do own however, is a good heart, a fun outlook on life and a desire to maybe get to know you a little better.

If I can't persuade you, then I will of course do my best impression of 'not being disappointed' and bow out gracefully...

....I do reserve the right however to have a private ‘moment’ and stomp my feet a little though! ;o)

What do you think?

Rick x

Hello mystery American girl,
I am sure you get many many mails everyday and I wasn't going to even write to you.
But I thought why not.
I am at a complete loss as to why you need to bother with net dating as you are by far the most stunning and beautiful woman on here by miles!
Looking at your pics completely blew me away.
I just pray that you are a lovely person too.
If you are just as pretty on thr inside then you are going to make one guy very happy.
I hope you can open your mind and see the spark within me and let me ignite your fire.
Never settle for second best and always live like its your last day on earth.
Passion and commitment, they are the corner stones to a happy life.
Be Lucky,
Cheeky Jason x

Hey Miss,

You're beautiful. And I'm speechless.

Maybe I can show you around London town sometime?

Hope to hear from you soon.

A

My Friends are Getting Married, I'm Just Getting Drunk

I was once asked to join a Facebook group called My Friend are Getting Married, I'm Just Getting Drunk. I don't think I joined the actual group, but the name of the group really struck a chord with me. It seemed like (still seems like) the perfect description of my life. In fact, I think a more apt description would be All my Friends are getting Married and/or Having Babies while I'm just Getting Drunk.

Once upon a time in the not so distant past, it seemed like all my friends were single. Together we enjoyed girl's nights out that consisted of talking about all the men in our lives over glasses of wine, getting drunk, dancing, flirting with men, possibly going home with some man after flirting and dancing with him, then calling your each other the next morning trade stories and laugh about the many shenanigans that took place the night before... You know the deal.

But sometime, when I wasn't paying attention everything changed. It was like the rest of the people around me suddenly grew up and started being adults and I just stayed the same fun-loving immature single gal. Suddenly I look around and everyone is either married, getting married, getting divorced, getting married again, or having their first - and in some cases their second or third - babies!Let me give you some statistics to prove my point. Since last November, 5 of my close friends have had babies, this summer I will attend 5 weddings. And sad but true, I can only count 4 single friends and unfortunately not one of them lives in London. And with Facebook bringing you into up-close-and-personal contact with the daily lives of your 500+ friends and acquaintances through exuberant pictures and status updates (seems like the thing to do is post your baby's picture as your profile picture), I can't help feeling like there is some kind of massive marriage/baby boom going on out there? And how have I managed to miss this? When I decide to just get drunk and not get married?

I try to think back to when I was a little kid and what I envisioned my life to be like when I was older... Where did I see myself at 31 years old? Honestly, I draw a big blank. Besides wanting to live abroad and become an International Woman of Mystery (seriously - I actually saw that as my destiny but that's a whole other blog in itself), I didn't really ever see myself getting married and having children. But I didn't actually see myself NOT doing it either though. I just never had a visual picture of myself with a baby and a husband. I guess I just thought that at some point there would be some natural progression towards that lifestyle - that like all the others around me (or so it seems) I wouldn't have to think about it - it would just happen. However, so far. It has not happened. And actually, I still have trouble conjuring up an image of myself with a husband and a baby - I mean can any of you see me with a baby on one arm and a man I go home to every night? Exactly... See... that's what I'm talking about.


The very strange thing is that I feel that my childhood and upbringing should have given me a good view of marriage and kids. I mean my parents are still married. I had a great childhood. I love my parents and they love my brother and I and they brought us up well (although admittedly I might be a little biased here). And despite the fact that my brother and I both currently live abroad, we have an extremely close family and enjoy spending time together and try to do so as often as we can.

But if I reflect back on my childhood, I have to say that I have never really seen myself as a very maternal person, nor have I ever seen myself as a traditional wife. To me the word HOUSEWIFE has always equaled a dirty word. I knew early on that I was going to be a career woman. I think this in part comes from having a very strong and dominating Mother. There was no question who ruled our household. Even today she is more driven and ambitious than my Father - and she makes more money than him(Dad - if you are reading this - don't worry I love you anyway, you were the "fun" parent). My Mother taught me that being a strong woman was important. She was my role model from day one and I have admired strong women ever since. I can honestly say that I was shocked to find out that women were not the dominant sex in the rest of the world. In fact, it was my neighbor who pointed this out to me. I still remember the day that he tried to tell me women belonged at home with the babies cleaning and cooking. From that day on we became rivals and I set out to prove to the world that women could in fact dominate the world and were absolutely the superior Sex.

Another unusual reflection from my childhood involves "playing house." It is a natural thing for children to want to mimic the lives of adults or imagine how their lives as adults will be. Playing house is a natural part of childhood. However... being the strong-minded (and admitedly sometimes strange) child that I was, I had very strict rules on how I thought you should play house. I never ever ever played house in the traditional sense. In the elaborate stories I created for my friends and I to act out (I'm sure you are all very surprised to hear that I was a bossy child - shocker) we never had a traditional family unit with a mother, father, kids, dog, the house with the white picket fence etc. Instead I always insisted that we play run away children or even better, I liked to play that I was a single woman (an Aunt maybe) who adopted children. Although I often convinced guys to play with me, I never once wanted to be the mom or wife in the game of house. Can you believe that? Even as a child, I could NOT even pretend to have a husband or pretend to get married. It seriously grossed me out! And I never pretended to be a mother as in having actual children that were supposed to be my own. When I played with my dolls - it was the same thing. Barbie and Ken were always either boyfriend and girlfriend or brother and sister or more likely just plain friends. Actually, usually I was too busy enacting camping scenes in the woods and having them drown in the river and need rescuing to really care too much about the intricacies of their relationship (I was a bit of a Tomboy as a child). So, even as young as 5 years old, I already knew that I couldn't see myself as a mother or as a person who gets married. Or perhaps even at that age I was already doubting myself as the kind of person guys would want to marry.

It will probably come as no surprise then that Peter Pan was my favorite book as a child. I used to make my father read it to me over and over again. Even at an early age I felt a strong identification with Peter Pan and the lost boys who lived in Never Neverland and never wanted to grow up. I remember telling my Father that I was never going to grow up either. But I guess even Peter Pan had to grow up... I mean we all saw the movie Hook right? If you haven't, seriously - watch it. It's great!

The thing is... I'm not exactly ready to trade my international life and my career in tomorrow for a husband and kids - just the thought sends me into a semi-panic attack. But I'm starting to realize that kids, a husband, stability are probably things that I want in the future. I'm also realizing that partying every weekend, working long hours, and jet setting around the world is not exactly conducive behavior for fostering any kind of permanent relationship or settling down and there is absolutely no way to fit children into this lifestyle. I kept thinking I could do it all. But now I'm realizing that maybe it's just not possible. And since I can't run away with the Lost Boys to Never Neverland and hide away in some ageless world full of fun and games and pirates, the clock - oh that scary clock (much like the one that the alligator in Peter Pan swallows - I'm SO getting the deeper message of this book now) continues to tick, and no matter how hard I wish, I'm not getting any younger. So, if I'm really serious about settling down sometime soon, I guess I should start thinking about some making some changes in my life.... But don't worry! NOT YET! Fear not my faithful blog readers. At least for now, I will continue to amuse you with my silly stories of international singledom.

Luckily one of my 4 single friends is coming to visit me in London for the long Easter weekend. So, while my friends are all at home with their babies and husbands and boyfriends, well you know that we'll just be getting drunk!

What did we do Before Facebook?

I'm just back from an exciting weekend in Stockholm. Although I spent some very busy working days in the Stockholm office, I still managed to fit in some time for fun and catching up with old friends and as usual the girls had planned a big social schedule for us. I also had the great pleasure of meeting 3 beautiful new babies of good friends! It was really great to see my friends as new moms although it made me really realize how far there lives are from mine at this point ( do feel that this topic deserves a whole other blog). And as if to prove that it doesn't matter that everyone else is having babies and I'm still out partying like a 23 year old, I partied pretty hard 3 nights in a row despite having a massive cold that would have sent any normal person running for bed. I also went with a friend to the spa where we had great ambitions of having a work out session at the gym but unfortunately were so hungover we could only mope around and hang out in the outdoor (heated) pool and get a massage. Then, hangover still holding on, we met the rest of the girl group for an adventurous afternoon of pole dancing. Believe me. Swinging around a pole and trying to be sexy and graceful when you are hungover is something I DO NOT advise. However... hangover and all it was a really good time and I was amazed at how good we all were at the little sexy dance routine we all learned. The bruises in obscene places and the sore muscles on the other hand, are not so fun. Who knew pole dancing was such a good workout or so much fun?

If pole dancing was a high point... Unfortunately on Friday night I experienced a major low point when my friend (innocently enough and still feeling bad that she was the one to tell me) dropped the bomb that I knew was coming sooner or later when she said "Oh I hear the Beautiful Swede has a new girlfriend." Even though I was prepared for this kind of revelation about my Ex Boyfriend as I somewhat assumed that there was a possibility he had continued dating the New Year's Eve date, I was devastated. Directly after New Year's I had made a decision to not stalk him on Facebook (In one small moment of weakness over Christmas I did look at pictures of the girl I thought he was dating and then realized that I was only hurting myself and no good could come of following his life especially when I realized she looked like - to borrow a phrase from a friend - a "bad copy" of me). So, I "hid him" on Facebook so I would no longer see any status updates/relationship changes/pictures etc. Notice that I didn't actually "block him" which would mean that then he can't see my updates. I just hid him so I can't see what he's doing, but he can still see how great and wonderful my life is through my cheery status updates and frequent pictures of me with other men - as I might have mentioned before, I'm very very mature when it comes to relationships. So, because I had "hidden him" I didn't see when he changed his Facebook status to "In a Relationship." Luckily I have friends to watch out for me...

Even more devastating is the fact that that although we dated for over a year, we never changed our Facebook status to "In a Relationship." Ugh. Did I just write that? Oh yes I did. Ok. Let me explain. On the outside, I pretend that I think that changing your Facebook status is really cheesy and is not something I ever will do (I'm pretty sure that I expressed this to the Beautiful Swede) however, on the deep deep inside... I really secretly want a guy (ok - we're getting real honest here, I wanted that guy - the Beautiful Swede) to ask me to be "In a Relationship" with him on Facebook. I can't believe I'm saying this, but my deep dark secret is that I want a guy who wants to proclaim to our closest 500 + friends each on Facebook that we have a relationship. Ok... maybe I'm getting a bit carried away... I mean I haven't figured out if I will actually accept the relationship request - I have heard that you can always "deny" or "ignore" - but I still want to be asked. And it definitely makes me feel bad that he was so quick to jump into a Facebook relationship with someone else... Cue the insecurities... So, despite being prepared to hear that my Beautiful Ex had a girlfriend, it hit me hard. It ruined my night and it was in the back of my mind all weekend. And obviously I have been obsessing about it ever since. I only hope blogging about it will help me to get over it.

So, I was feeling a bit down about the Beautiful Swede having a new girlfriend, but luckily The Tennis Player (aptly named since he was a pro tennis player at some point in the recent past) thanks to my enthusiastic Facebook "I'm in Stockholm Y'all" status update, knew I was in town and sent me a message asking me if I wanted to meet up...

My relationship with the Tennis Player is a simple one. It doesn't really exist (outside the bedroom at least). But we have known each other for 3 or 4 years - neither of us can remember but it either way it seems like an extraordinarily long time for a relationship of this sort to continue to exist without any drama. We see each other from time to time depending on when we are both single. He actually fits my "perfect man" description exactly. He is tall, extremely handsome, dark hair, blue eyes, in good shape (he was a former tennis player), reasonably smart - well at least I think... capable of interesting conversation (mostly in the form of bedroom talk), a bit shy though and not seemingly a player, has lived in the US for 4 years while studying, close with his family, and whenever I see him, I want to rip his clothes off (just in case you were still in any doubt as to the nature of our relationship). But the relationship doesn't go anywhere (outside the bedroom at least). I think we are both happy with this set up. And seriously every perpetually single girl needs at least one man in their lives like this. Anyway, I had trouble deciding whether to contact the Tennis Player or not and had finally decided not to mostly because I was very tired from the night before and still sick with a never ending cold and I felt that a good night's sleep might do me some good. However, fate intervened and as I went to walk out of the club on Saturday night I literally bumped into him. We had a good laugh about our "destiny." And well I'm sure that you can guess the rest. Keeping in the PG-13 spirit of this blog, I won't divulge the dirty details.

So, all in all... A good weekend. Sad about the Beautiful Swede but saved by the Tennis Player. And as always a great time with the girls - and that's what's most important anyway.

But of course, back at work on Monday morning, the Beautiful Swede gets me on Google messenger to say: Hope you had a nice weekend in Stockholm. Guess he was also following my enthusiastic Facebook updates... I wish I could say that I easily casually ignored this comment, just easily brushed it aside and went on with my day - obviously not since I'm still thinking and writing about it now. Instead it threw off my whole day. First I created and rejected many one-liners to give him such as: Leave me Alone; Never Contact Me Again; Drop Dead Buddy; It was a fabulous weekend and the Tennis player was fabulous too (The Beautiful Swede wisely didn't like the Tennis Player - we had accidentally bumped into him out at least once)... See there goes that maturity shining through again. Then I wrote 3 different emails:

1. The angry never contact me again, I wish I never wasted my time with you email


2. The I hope you are well, I'm well too, my life is wonderful now without you. I know it must be hard, but I do hope that you might manage to have a semi-nice life without me.


3. The sad teary-eyed, I miss you lots but I heard you have someone new and I just want you to know that it's really hard but I'm trying to move on too and it's better for me if you never contact me again because it hurts so much, if I think we can ever be friends again, then I will let you know but don't hold your breath.

Finally the maturity kicked in and I decided not to send any of the emails but they are all sitting in my "Draft" section of Gmail just waiting for me to figure out which one to send... In retrospect, maybe I can just send him a link to this blog. Nothing else... Hmm....

But here's the test. Read this post again and look at all the ways that Facebook intervened in the dynamics of this weekend (say nothing of the fact that I used it to contact all my friends to arrange meeting up with them). So, I ask you all this one question. Where would we be with out Facebook? Seriously? What did we do before Facebook? How did people know what other people were doing and keep in touch with each other? How did they arrange to meet up? How did people make their Exes jealous or post fun pictures of girl outings like pole dancing so the memories of fun weekends can live on in cyber space long after the party's over. How did we know that our exes had moved on to someone else? How did people proclaim their relationships? And are relationships these days really relationships without a Facebook proclamation? Was my relationship with the Beautiful Swede less real than his relationship with "her" because we did not set our Facebook status to "in a relationship?" I mean there are probably hundreds of my friends who didn't even know I was even in a relationship with him because my status on Facebook always remained "single"! Ok - I'm kidding - kind of... And is technology really helping? In the case of the Tennis Player it helped him to know I was in town, but wouldn't we have bumped into each other in the club anyway? Or is it hurting? In the case of the Beautiful Swede, do I really need to know he is dating someone else? And do I really need to be tempted to go in and check out pictures of him and his new girlfriend? I have to say that I am for the most part, a real Facebook addict. With my international lifestyle, I find it an easy and fun way to keep up with friends all over the world. On more than one occasion Facebook has enabled me to meet up with people in random cities just because we caught each other's Facebook post that we were going to the same place at the same time. But a sometimes, I just can't help wondering were we all just better off before Facebook?

Internet Dating Strategy

Well, I'm back from my China adventure and realize that there are actually no boys on the horizon. I guess it's back to good old Match.com for me. The problem is that March is a REALLY busy month for me and I actually am not sure I have time to date. Between a launching a new product at work, a good friend leaving (and insisting we party every night this coming week), a trip to Paris next weekend (to party for the night with friends) and a trip to Stockholm the week after (a mix of work and fun), it seems that I have very few free nights! Well, maybe I will meet men the old fashioned way when I'm out and about in my adventures. We will see.

But this morning I took a journey into the virtual dating world via Match.com who byt the way have annoying changed their UI and I HATE it. But that's beside the point. I still managed to email and wink at some cute boys and that's what's important right? Which brings me to my Internet Dating Strategy which I would like to share with you all.

All in all, I think that my strategy for Internet dating has been pretty good. I have only been on one truly bad date and that was a second date. Boy managed to hide his true colors during the first date... Sneaky. All of the men I have met have been reasonably attractive, able to carry on a good conversation, and more or less what I expected from their profile. I have had no awkward silences and no dates where I have run screaming from the bar because they were old, overweight and balding and nothing at all like their attractive profile picture.

And now, because I'm a nice person, I will share with you my secret Internet dating strategy in case you want to try it out yourself!

My strategy consists of only responding to men with the following criteria:

• Tall - over 6'3 preferably (although I will consider anyone over 6 feet - all others are instantly deleted - I like tall men)


• Handsome (I've already told you I'm superficial)


• Must live in London


• Must have a picture - more then one, preferably lots


• Must be between 24 and 35 years old - Apologies to all the Grandpas who insist on writing to me even though I clearly state I don't like OLD men


• Must not have kids or be divorced - who wants unnecessary baggage when it can so easily be avoided by a careful criteria screen


• Must not post pictures of themselves posing in front of a mirror without a shirt on - Unless they are of course incredibly gorgeous and have a smart and serious profile to match


• Must not have the headline of "How YOU Doin'?" - seriously do you know how many men out there have this as their headline? Can you be any less creative or cheesy?


• Must have put some time and effort into writing there profile, not just write: "Don't know why I'm doing this. Friends told me it was a good idea. Hit me up with an email if you're a hot chick." -Ok, I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but if if their pictures are really really great, I do sometimes write them back
  
• Must have reasonable spelling and Grammar - If they can't properly write sentences, chances are an intellectual or stimulating conversation is not in the cards either


• Must not list Dan Brown (or John Grisham) as his favorite author - seriously, do you know how many men do this? I have nothing against Dan Brown and I enjoy reading his books although I think they lack substance and have terrible character development - so if he's your all time favorite author... Nope. It's not going to work.


• Must be willing to write back and forth with me several times before I actually meet them - I think people do tend to reveal their true selves in emails
  
• Must be patient with me if I get cold feet and have to cancel the date and reschedule (yes, this sometimes happens to me)


• Must not solicit sex, make inappropriate sexual comments, or get too desperate in emails


• Must not be a stalker

But the most important rules are as follows:

• Never take Internet dating too seriously


• Use Internet dating, but don't forget the old fashioned way as well


• If one boy doesn't work out, another one is just a click away

Time to tear myself from the computer and my virtual dating world and go back to the real world for now. Hosting a party tonight then going out clubbing in Lodon. Maybe I will manage to meet a real life man! I'll be sure to keep you posted! Enoy the weekend!

International Woman of Mystery

I have recently had a very unusual experience. I didn’t travel ANYWHERE for 8 whole weeks! This is the first time in 5 years or more that I have managed to avoid getting on a plane for that long. And let me tell you it was AMAZING! In addition to getting to actually have a life (there is so much more free time when you are not waiting for planes, having dinner with colleagues and spending nights in hotels) and make plans with friends, I didn’t have to deal with the hassles of traveling or my fear of flying! It was wonderful. Unfortunately, I’m currently writing this post from the Beijing airport where I’m waiting for a very delayed flight to Shanghai… So, I’m back into travel mode again and for the foreseeable future will be on a plane every other week (at least).

You would think that being the International Woman of Mystery I am, flying and traveling would be easy for me. Just the thought of an International Woman of Mystery probably conjures up some image of a classy woman gliding through the airport with the perfect and appropriate travel bag clutched in perfectly manicured hand. She wears black and impossibly high heels and has dark sunglasses covering her eyes or casually resting on her head. She is calm and cool and never flustered. She definitely never looses her passport, her ticket, her phone… She never runs to catch a flight (she is wearing high heels that are not made for running). She is the essence of travel chic and her blasé attitude toward travel is admirable if not a tiny bit intimidating. She is who you wish that you could be. In fact, she is who I wish I could be.

For some reason, no matter how often I travel, I can’t really seem to get it right. No matter what, it feels awkward. First of all, I’m always late. Actually, that’s not true – but I always feel like I’m late and spend the 4 hours before the flight stressing that I’m going to miss the flight. The funny thing is that I’m late for absolutely everything except for planes and trains – then I have to be ridiculously early. My colleagues who have truly perfected the blasé attitude towards travel that enables them to roll up to the gate “just in time.” Actually, they miss a lot of flights this way – it stresses me out too much and therefore I usually just meet them at the gate, then I can arrive ridiculously early and let them sort themselves out on their own.

Second, I am bad at packing. I always bring too much stuff because I want to have “options” and also because I have a borderline unhealthy obsession with working out and always need to bring full workout gear for all the days I will be traveling (and yes, I do usually use them so it’s not a total waste) in addition to my business clothes and casual clothes (if necessary). I also have to bring an absurd number of books because I tend to read a lot when I travel (waiting in lines, waiting for planes, when I can’t sleep) and my worst fear is being stuck without a book. But although I always seem to pack too much but also I usually inevitably forget something really important (like underwear).

Third, my checked in luggage seems to have at best a 50% chance of arriving with me. Seriously. In fact, there are even people who don’t like flying with me because they feel that it increases the chance of their own luggage getting lost. So, I have learned that if I am checking in bags, that I must then pack a carry-on with essentials (which includes at least one set of work out clothes and 3 books). Therefore, I can never be that very chic woman with just her laptop and purse. (Update: Guess what? I arrived in Shanghai without my luggage! Luckily I had my gym clothes and books stashed in my carry on. However, that left no space for my work clothes so I had to wear the same clothes I wore on the plane to the office – shows you where my priorities are).

Fourth, I always feel flustered when I travel. I constantly misplace my ticket or passport, forget to carry a pen to fill out the landing cards, think that my phone or Ipod is lost (they are usually just at the bottom of my big bag) so you often find me kneeling on the floor of the airport while dumping out the contents of my bag on the ground and searching frantically through them to make sure I have not lost my: passport, tickets, Iod, wallet phone etc. Adding to this, for some reason I either have a ridiculously looong layover or such a tight a connection that I literally have to run as fast as I can from one gate to another.

Fifth, I never have manicured hands, and high heels are totally inappropriate for an airport (I’m always amazed at women who can pull this off) as you usually have to walk A LOT between gates – especially in London and China airports. Seriously, I am wearing low high heeled boots right now in an effort to look a little cool. I’m pretty sure I just walked two miles. I have a blister. Was it worth it? I don’t think so. But I’m also not ready to be one of those women who wear sweatpants and sneakers and carry their pillow.

Sixth, I have managed to somehow develop an unfortunate fear of flying. It has gotten worse in the past couple years – the more I travel… A little bit of turbulence or a strange noise from the plane, is enough to set me into a panic and cause other people around me to pat me on the shoulder and tell me it’s going to be ok as if I’m some novice flyer. At those times I want to whip out my massive passport and show them that I fly all the time and that I realize I’m being silly, but I can’t help it. And please just stop touching me!

I am not generally a religious person, but I literally pray the whole time during take off and landing as I have heard this is the most dangerous part of the flight. And during the rest of the flight, I can’t help thinking about how it would feel if suddenly the plane just dropped and nose dived down killing us all. I know it’s much more likely that I will get hit by a Double Decker Bus crossing the road in London because I forget to look the “right” way. But for some reason death by plane crash seems pretty dramatic. I mean, you KNOW you are going to die for at least a couple minutes. Imagine the absolute panic this must cause as you and the rest of the passengers are falling straight down out of the sky!!!

But in fact, I think my biggest problem with flying is the fact that I know I will not be able to control my environment for several (sometimes more than 20) hours. For example, you can’t control the temperature, or the people (I seem to always get to sit next to fat people who snore or sick people who throw up the whole way), or the food. Knowing there are just too many factors out of my control that can lead to an absolutely miserable experience, puts me into a panic about flying.

I should mention that there are at least 2 colleagues who will no longer fly with me. I think it might have had something to do with the Brazil trip we took where I had an all out panic attack in the Amsterdam airport which involved staff assistance and switching around seats and a whole bunch of people needing to calm me down in order to get on the flight. I did however get on the flight and managed to arrive in Brazil in pretty good shape despite it all. In my defense, part of the panic was brought on by external factors that had nothing to do with flying or traveling and more to do with the Swedish Ex and the fast that the night before said flight we decided that we would no longer talk anymore… This decision set me off on a long crying spree which included calling my mother and trying to convince her to London and come and get me (yes, I realize this was unreasonable – but a girl can still want her mom when she is feeling bad), and a very sleepless night. I then channeled all of these emotions into a general panic about the Brazil flight. Say nothing of the fact that just weeks before an Air France plane (same operators as KLM) had just fallen out of the sky on the way to Brazil and much was made of the fact that when flying to Brazil from Europe, the plane goes off the radar for 3 hours (and yes, I thought about this the ENTIRE trip and wondered at which point we went off the radar). And being the control freak that I am, the Brazil trip was especially hard for me because I had never been to Brazil. So, in addition to the flight, there were a whole bunch of unknowns at the other end. I find that knowing what to expect when I land helps a lot.

Seventh, I can’t sleep on planes. At all. Ever. Unless I’m so extremely exhausted that I just can’t keep my eyes open – which only has happened a few times usually after many days of getting 4 or less hours of sleep each night… If I DO manage to sleep, I have nightmares about the plane dropping out of the sky and usually wake up totally panicked only to check the time and realize that there are still 8 MORE hours left of the 12 hour trip. Needless to say, not sleeping on planes is not a good thing when you are traveling intercontinental as usually I’m expected to be in the office looking fresh and polished and ready to work a normal 12 hour day… Needless to say I do not do well with this. I try to schedule flights so that I can get in the night before. I don’t really believe in jet lag. I don’t really have trouble fitting into the local time schedule. However, I do believe that sleep deprivation is a real thing. But usually one good night’s sleep of 6 – 8 hours can put me right back on track. Just don’t make me do a full day in the office first!

Eighth, traveling these days is no fun! Planes never seem to do anything on time… and you face endless security battles For example, I’m currently sitting in the Beijing airport where my flight was supposed to take off several hours ago and as usual Air China is giving absolutely no information as to why the flight is delayed or when the flight will actually take off. And of course, I didn’t sleep one wink on the flight on the way here. I didn’t even try. I just watched bad movies the whole way and read half of a 500 page novel. So, I’m WAY tired and feeling completely out of sorts. For some reason for me being completely over tired manifests in the following: first I start to feel a rocking motion – like I’m on a boat; second I feel majorly depressed as if the world was going to end, as if all the happy parts have been taken away from me. And for some irrational reason, my instinct when I feel this way is to stay up and try to “fix” myself. Being the control freak that I am, I have trouble understanding when my body is not following it’s usual behavior and I always think that it’s just because I’m being emotionally weak and I just need to pull it together. I have learned that it’s much better to just make myself go to bed. I’m always just as surprised to wake up the next morning and realize what a difference just a few hours of sleep can make.

Well, I think that my flight is finally about to board. The International Woman of Mystery is off again! Hopefully I will make it to Shanghai safely.

Update: I did make it to Shanghai safely. But as usual, my luggage didn't! But this time it WAS ALL MY FAULT. Despite having taken this flight about 20+ times previously - the last time being just a couple months before. I somehow managed to forget to get my luggage in Beijing and bring it through customs. So, of course it didn't arrive in Shanghai! Ooops - see, I told you, I'm a super cool traveler.

However, I did manage to persuade the Chinese officials who tried to tell me to go back to Beijing and get my luggage (yeah right) that not only was I not going back to Beijing. I was not even coming back to the Shanghai airport to pick it up when it arrived (which they told me was absolutely necessary). I made it very clear to them that they were going to get it from Beijing and to my hotel by the next evening at the latest.

My direct approach worked. My luggage arrived safe and sound the next evening with no hassle. Note to any travelers - do not listen to Chinese officials at the airport, tell them what you want and make them do it. See... maybe I am kinda a cool traveler after all. At least I've learned a few tricks...

An American Affair in London

A Monday night in London. Two hot single Americans meet up in an apartment in Chelsea. After doing the required round of casual catching up, what else is there to do in London, but go to the Pub? So, off to the Pub we go. But unfortunately we only have time for one pint before we are kicked out. For some absurd reason Pubs close at 11 pm here - even on the weekends. So, said Pub sends us over to strange "smelly" (they did warn us) dive bar/lounge across the road. They were right, the place smelled bad and at 20 pounds for 2 drinks, it wasn't even cheap! I mean if you are in a dive bar/lounge, at least the very least the drinks should be cheap! After one drink and several funny pictures later, we decide that the only good thing about the overpriced and smelly place was the company (meaning us) and the conversation so we decided to head back to my apartment and continue to drink there.

As I've decided this blog is rated PG 13 (I accidentally told my parents about it), the rest of the night is censored, but you get the picture - cuz you're smart like that. But let's just say the boy still looked fabulous without a shirt on!

After approximately 2 hours and 25 minutes of sleep, needless to say, the next day at work was not fun. I found myself unable to finish any sentences because I kept loosing the point of what I was saying and forgetting to listen when other people spoke. It's amazing what sleep deprivation can do to you (and I am not even a person who generally needs a lot of sleep). I actually managed to speak on the phone to the manager of my Russian team for about an hour and hang up with literally no memory of the entire conversation. However, because I am kind of awesome at my job, I have perfected a very good auto-response mode. I can make really good sounds as if I'm actually listening to people while paying absolutely no attention at all. I think I'm pretty good at this - at least no one has really called me out on it yet. I also have a really good radar that enables me to tune back in for really the important parts. The problem is that by the time I realize that they are actually talking about something important, it's a bit late and I have to ask them to repeat themselves. But this is usually taken care of easily by a simple: "I'm sorry. The connection is bad and I missed that last part, can you repeat it? (Thanks to Skype and poor international mobile phone connections - this is usually pretty believable)

Anyway, continuing with my newly found rock star lifestyle, the Hot American Boy and I decide to take on the London nightlife on a Tuesday night. What do you know? There is quite a lot of nightlife to be found in London on a Tuesday night! After an amazing dinner of Indian food with the best Chicken Tikka Masala I have ever had, we went to Boujis a nightclub rumored to be a fun place during the week. Let's just say Boujis lived up to its reputation. To quote the Hot American "A Tuesday night in London is way better than any Saturday night in Boston." The place was great. The music was ok (he is a DJ so we did spend a lot of time critiquing the music and talking about how he could totally do it better). He liked to dance. I liked to dance. And we had great fun dancing and drinking together.

But the best part of the night was definitely the extreme mopping. Suddenly not one but two men wielding mops appeared on the dance floor. It seemed that their instruction was make sure to keep mopping all the time for as many hours as the club was open. HILARIOUS! I have never seen anything like it. We speculated a lot about what the reason could be behind the extreme mopping... We convinced ourselves that there must have been a major incident - possibly even a death - that caused the need for this particular club to pay TWO men to mop all night and physically move unsuspecting dancers and drinkers out of their way so they could make absolutely sure they kept the floor absolutely slip-free. The mop men took their jobs very seriously. They had their eyes to the floor the whole night circling the club - at times shining flashlights to make sure there weren't any puddles lurking about in the shadows. We were a witness to one serious crash as a drink fell and smashed all over the floor sending dangerously spraying liquid all over the floor where drunken dancers might accidentally fall victims. But we were very relived to see that the mop men had it covered. They seemed to have a special radar because in 2.5 seconds of the glass crashing, both mop men were there, running from across the room to clear the glass and liquid ensuring a safe environment for the drunken dancers.

But even rock stars need their sleep, and after another late night we finally headed home. I had decided to take the next day off from work so thankfully we got to sleep in. Miraculously we woke without hangovers and decided to go for a run in the park. I am a really good runner and I work out a lot. Usually when others work out with me they tend to regret it for the next few days as I make them do interval running, push ups, lunges, squats, step-ups for a minimum of one hour. I also have a competitive spirit that borders on unhealthy. So, of course I felt the need to tell the Hot American Boy it was ok if he felt he couldn't keep up with me... BAD IDEA. Note to self, when a guy has a six-pack, do not challenge them to a running competition. I was trying to make out like the tough girl that I pretend I am, but secretly I wanted to die the entire run - I couldn't breath! We ran way faster then I'm used to and did lots of push ups and burpys (not sure of the spelling here buyt it involves throwing yourself on the ground then jumping straight up in the air over and over again). He even did lunges better than me! When we finally got back to the house, I claimed "first shower" and hid myself immediately in the bathroom where I laid on the floor for the next 10 minutes trying not to throw up.

The rest of the day was spent in a more relaxed and less competitive manner with a trip to the V&A Museum where we saw an amazing Digital Design Exhibit, followed by afternoon tea (how British) and then a trip to Harrod's. I really hate shopping but for some reasons Harrod's is one of my favorite places in the world! It feels more like a Museum than a department store and I find it amazing how may luxury, unique and random things you can manage to stumble upon. Then back to my apartment where we opted for a night in with take-out and movies and cuddles on the coach. I admit... I was starting to really fall for this guy.

One interesting dynamic between me and the The Hot American boy is that we are both from the same place. We went to the same school, had the same teachers, knew the same people, had similar childhood experiences and reference points. I have lived abroad for so long now, that I forget what it's like to connect with someone just because we are from the same place. In my office of 150 people, we have 32 different nationalities, I spend my days explaining myself, trying to understand others, trying to relate to other cultures and looking for common ground. I had forgotten how powerful a connection of "hometown" can be.

But more important than the hometown connection, we seemed to be able to connect in the present as well. To be honest, I had kind of thought of his as just another pretty boy... I didn't expect much from him intelligence-wise or compatibility-wise. I apologize in advance for whoever I'm about to offend with this next part - it is most likely (as you will see has been proven) that my prejudices and stereotypes are part of my own ignorance and not the other way around... The thing is, this boy is from Western Mass. He is AMERICAN (I haven't dated an American since I left America 8 years ago). I expected him to be like the stereotype I have of an American boy from Western Mass (I won't go into details here). I also kind of expected him to be stupid or at least not that intelligent (because he's hot, not because he's American). But the Hot American Boy totally proved me wrong impressed me with his worldly knowledge and experience (he has traveled to quite a few places). In addition to having an impressive job and being seemingly a reliable and honest person, he is completely open-minded, moderately well-read, and open to new people and adventures, and curious about the world. He loves to travel and seemed envious of all the travel I had done and didn't seem to mind listening to my stories. Our common interest in traveling and general curiousness about the world even had me in a brief delusional moment vividly fantasizing about backpacking through South East Asia with him (something we both want to do)...

In addition to his general hotness, the fact that he looks fabulous without a shirt on, that we had tons of fun together, that we had great conversations, everything with him just felt so easy. We just got along. We never ran out of things to talk about, but were able to exist in silence without it being awkward. There was no arguing, no complications, no hidden agendas, no manipulations, no stress - just fun! He even gave me compliments on how I looked "your hair looks amazing" and on my clothes! If all that wasn't enough, the deal sealer was the boy even helped clean up around the house! Seriously. He won major points for making the bed (I can't stand an unmade bed) and doing the dishes and when he noticed that the table we had been eating on was messy, he even found the Windex and wiped it down! I love a man who knows how to clean - especially when he doesn't have to be asked (or nagged). What can be more sexy than that?

If the days we had spent together could be considered a first date, it was one of the best first dates ever! It almost restored my faith in men. It was admittedly the most fun I've had with a man since my Ex - the Beautiful Swede - he was maybe even better than the Beautiful Swede. My time with him was at least definitely way better then when the Swedish Adventurer came to visit. Rather than counting the hours until he would leave, I was wishing that time would stop and we could keep hanging out. But all good things must come to an end. And sadly, no further relationship was discussed and no feelings were revealed - I am not one for sappy relationship conversations and in fact, I try to avoid them at all costs. What would be the point anyway? He lives in Boston. I live in London. And also, I have to admit there was still a little bit of awkwardness surrounding the fact that I was essentially still "just his friend's sister." So, when he shut the door to go and catch his plane, I turned back to my empty apartment to face the harsh reality that my fun fling with the Hot American was over. I hate to admit it, but I felt really sad when he left and I kind of miss him...

I guess it's back to good old Match.com for me.

The Hot American Boy

My brother is two years younger than me. The funny thing is that all my life my mother told me that I was lucky to have a younger brother since someday I would want to date his friends. I had a hard time understanding this because my brother and his friends and their skateboards and their snowboards seemed so young to me and so not cool. I was like popular you know? Besides, it was high school and your could easily become a social outcast by doing something much less incriminating than dating a YOUNGER GUY. Back then younger men just weren't cool - it was all about the older boys with cars... and beers. It wasn't until I met the Hot American Boy that I realized my mother might have been on to something.*

I was home from Stockholm for my parent's annual Fourth of July pool party when in walks an extremely hot shirtless guy - think Abercrombie and Fitch model. My jaw drops and I stutter to my brother - WHO IS THAT? He looks at me as if I'm crazy and tells me that hot American Boy is his friend from high school who was 4 years younger than me... I was like: Boy has grown up! And he sure does look fine without his shirt on! Wow.

I won't go into the details of that Fourth of July night - mostly since large quantities of alcohol = memory gaps which make the night impossible to piece the night together coherently. But I will say that it started with a keg party at the pool (where else do Fourth of July parties start), followed by a karaoke battle, at some point there was a broken window and a drunken run (in high heels to say the least) from the police, a loud stumble home, an almost missed flight, a strong scolding from my mother that went something like "you and your brother are NEVER allowed to hang out again" and somewhere in the midst of this drunken chaos, I managed to steal a kiss from and cement a crush on the Hot American Boy.

Fast forward 5 years to Christmas time at home and a trip to Boston where my brother decides we are going to stay with the Hot American Boy who has apparently just broken up with his girlfriend (coincidence - or destiny....). And in a moment of further coincidence - or destiny - The American Boy tells me he is thinking about doing a trip to Europe. And of course being the nice person that I am, I offer him a place to stay in London. He says "It is very likely that I will take you up on that offer." Well, I've surely heard that one (ahem - all you friends who keep telling me that someday you are going to visit and then never ever follow through) so I don't read too much into and I try not to fantasize about it - too much....

But what do you know? He actually follows through and books his flight to London. He Originally plans to come with 2 other boys who mysteriously drop out of the trip at the last minute. Ok. Awkward? Weird? Good? Destiny? I don't know. But the Hot American boy is coming to hang with me in London!

*I feel that I must point out that my Mother is always right. Actually she has been wrong exactly once and it was a big wrong. But I will save that story for another day. The problem is that she is not always right at the right time. With this prediction she was about a decade off. It took me awhile to realize my inner Cougar but my Mother was right as usual and I'm much more inclined to date younger men than older ones these days.

A Good First Date Does Not A Good Second Date Make

I heart musicians. Or at least I have a very soft spot for musicians (in fact sometimes I will even make exceptions for musicians such as even if they are not that tall or that hot, I might still date them - or at least make out with them). I think it has to do with my father and brother both being really into music. It feels like something I grew up with. Or maybe it's because I'm not musical and arty and therefore I admire those qualities in others... Either way, if a guy plays music, he is that much more sexy in my book.

Anyway, I met this guy on Match, let's call him The Musician. He is a singer songwriter in London and also does lots of cover gigs and teaches performance. Sounds cool, right? We wrote back and forth for weeks and he seemed pretty interesting so we decided to meet up.

Our first date went well enough... We met for drinks and had good conversation. He was good looking (no exceptions necessary - phew). Tall with dark hair and blue eyes. I was looking forward to meeting him again.

The second date seemed doomed from the start. As usual I was running late (and he was early) but I was only 5 mins late and I had texted him to tell him so. Not really a big deal. Anyway, I get to the restaurant and he had texted me that he would be upstairs in the bar. So, I go upstairs. He's not there. So, I call him. He doesn't answer. I walk back downstairs starting to feel a little bit silly and I look around all confused and there he is watching me! Awkward! Nevermind the fact that I totally blew my entrance where I was going to strut in all sexy hair blowing everywhere... Huh. Anyway, I tried not to think too much into it at the time - I mean why would someone do that? But after the rest of the night played out and his mean-spirited personality was revealed, I can't help but think he actually watched me walk up the stairs looking for him and then ignored my call... just to see my reaction and make me feel uncomfortable. Creepy!

So, after that exciting entrances he then launches into me about the fact that I live in Chelsea (one of London's most posh neighborhoods) as this had been a topic we covered on the first date, I felt annoyed it had come up again. Yes, I live in Chelsea. My workplace is in Chelsea. It's a nice place and it makes sense for me to live in Chelsea. Who wouldn't want to live here? It's fabulous. Yes, I realize that somewhere out there is the rest of big bad London with homeless people, crime, bad neighborhoods, long underground commutes, small apartments and horrible flatmates. But hey, I'm lucky and I work hard to pay my exorbitant rent so I can live alone in nice apartment in a nice area without a commute involving any kinds of public transportation (I have a phobia). I enjoy the area I live in. And you could call me a snob, but I do realize I have a very charmed life and am very thankful for it. But have I mentioned I also work VERY HARD for it! He is not the first man I have dated who couldn't get over the Chelsea thing. I just don't get it. I guess they are intimidated and insecure. But over the area I live in? Get over it! Or at least don't bring it up every 5 minutes! But I digress...

So, after we go over the reasons that I live in Chelsea again, The Musician then proceeds with an even more fun topic as he tells me he felt my message from the day before was "too forward." I was taken aback since I do not recall sending any outrageous messages (being the good girl that I am, I usually leave this kind of behaviour to the third or fourth date at least). So, I did what any normal girl would do, I checked my phone.

I had texted him around 9 the night before to say "Hey you. Are we still on for tomorrow night?" That. Was. It. The reason I texted him at all was because I hadn't heard from him - he was supposed to text me during the day to tell me if he was free to meet the next night or not. At 9 pm when I hadn't heard from him, I figured I would send him a text so that I would still have time to make other plans if he bailed. Once I pointed this out to him, he says "oh, must have been your other messages. Time to put the phone away now. It's rude to check your phone on a date." Whoa...

Feeling a bit awkward, I began to chatter away about silly stuff - my job, my upcoming travels, weddings that summer I was looking forward to. So, he cuts through this and sneers at me (seriously - the best way to describe it was a sneer) "Do you really think that even have time for a boyfriend?" Umm... point taken and he might be right, but jeez it's our second date and at this point boy is very far away from being considered for the boyfriend job. And his bitterness (dare I say jealousness - yes I realize I invented a word here but it really should be in the Dictionary) about my busy life is so not the way to my heart!

He then tried a smooth move to win me over by telling me that he thought I was "really arrogant." This was brought on by the fact that I made some silly - and I had thought flirty - comments such as: "of course, I was popular in high school," and "you might be a singer, but I'm sure I could give you a run for your money at karaoke." Both of these statements were said in a sarcastic and exaggerated tone. And yes, ok I was popular in high school and yes, I kinda do rock at karaoke but I'm saying these things to be flirty and funny, not to be arrogant! I mean singing is his profession, of course I'm nowhere near as good as him! I was just trying to flirt with him a little bit and show that I'm a really confident and fun girl. Basides Buddy, if I am so arrogant, why are you even on a second date with me? Seriously. There is the door.

I couldn't wait to get away from him but he seemed to be drinking his wine as slowly as possible. I honestly thought he was doing it on purpose, as if he could sense my discomfort and was enjoying it and trying to drag it out for as long as possible. And I was not sure I really wanted to stand up and make a dramatic exit so I patiently waited until I could escape.

While waiting for him to finish his drink, I did have a long conversation with myself (in my head) about what justified storming out of a date and causing a scene, and if this was possibly one of the worst dates ever, and wondering if these kind of things happened to other people. But then I reminded myself that I'm totally awesome and it's not my fault this guy is such an insecure jerk. Well at least he was right on with the arrogance accusation!

And after all that, he still had the nerve to ask me if he could come home with me! I politely told him that it was probably not going to work out between the two of us. Then I went home and watched Sex and the City reruns to make myself feel better.

For all you men out there, the way to a woman's heart is definitely not by insulting her and making her feel bad about herself! Especially on a second date!

How To Be The Perfect Boyfriend

So, a Match boy sent me a poem about how to be a perfect boyfriend along with a Charming little note. I loved the poem so much I couldn't help but share!

In Case you are wondering, I thought the poem was great, but alas I didn't like his picture and being a totally shallow person, I didn't go on a date with him or even write him back. I know. Try not to judge. I have other awesome qualities but wasting my time writing back to unattractive but sweet boys isn't one of them.

Hey!!
How are you? Was looking through your profile and you sounded lovely so thought I would give you a mail and see if you will get back to me. Hopefully you will - I promise to be at least 60% interesting if you do (which isn't bad nowadays).

I will leave you with this - A Poem: "How To Be The Perfect Boyfriend." Not that I think anyone could ever be the perfect boyfriend. Including me - I have way too many faults. Anyway, here it goes.......
Hope you get back to me soon
D x.

How To Be The Perfect Boyfriend
Sometimes you've got to be macho
And do loads of things that are tough
But sometimes it's best to be quite and gentle
And say loads of soppy type stuff
You've got to have hundreds of muscles
And girls always like a nice bum
But you mustn't be hairy or sweaty or fat
Or have any flab on your tum.
Don't ever talk about football
Or make nasty smells in the bed
Or joke about bosoms with mates in the pub
Or drink till you're out of your head
You've got to be funny and clever
And do loads of things by surprise
Like shouting out loud in the back of a bus
My girlfriend's got beautiful eyes."
You don't have to have too much money
But make sure you've just got enough
To buy loads of presents and chocolates and flowers
And sexy silk undies and stuff
Say to your girlfriend "You're gorgeous
Your body's a twelve out of ten
You're sexy and beautiful, clever and kind.
Then tell her all over again.

Very nice poem don't you think? But the question is: are there any men out there who can live up to this? What do you think?

Internet Dating Vs. Old-Fashioned Dating

If you are single these days, then most likely you are using the internet in some way to meet people. In the past couple years internet dating has gone from being a weird thing that a friend of a friend has done... to being a normal thing that all single people do (or at least that's what I tell myself to make myself feel better).

While I don't rule out meeting someone the old fashioned way - i.e. bumping into them in my daily life, I definitely think that meeting someone on the internet is a good alternative. Having both options gives you the best of both worlds - and should also make you twice as likely to find a good match - so far this part hasn't actually worked out for me... but here's hoping!

Let's compare the two options side-by-side:

Meeting the Old-Fashioned Way

Pros:

• Can quickly decide if they are shagalicious (I live in London so I can now use words like this


• Can quickly size up their clothing and grooming style to see if it's up to par


• Can smell them (seriously, this is important)


• If after a few minutes of speaking with them, you realize you don't like them, you can run away and leave no trace so can't stalk you electronically (as long as you haven't already given them your phone number)


• It's more organic and therefore less stressful: you meet someone, you speak to them, you decide if you like them... there is no stressing about should I or shouldn't I meet him? Will he look as good in real life as he does in the pictures? Will he think I look like I do in my pictures? Will it be terribley awkward? Is it worth it to waste my time on this date?

Cons:

• Alcohol might seriously impair the judgement of all the pros above


• Lust might get in the way of reality - You might have a passionate night with a total hottie but wake up the next morning to find he can barely compose full sentences


• The fact that he's divorced and has 3 children that live at home might not be readily apparent


• It's difficult to meet people to date in your daily life! My routine focuses on work and gym and travel... I don't have the luck to meet hot men at the supermarket or on a plane, most of the men at my gym are gay, many of my colleagues are very good-looking but are unfortunately all married - and work relationships are a bad idea, and meeting guys at bars and clubs has not really been working out for me lately

Meeting on the Internet

Pros:

• It's easy and can be done in the privacy of your own bedroom (I mean the sitting in bed with your laptop searching through profiles! What were you thinking)?


• You can quickly compare your interests to his (especially if he has filled out the handy side-by-side comparison form where you eve get a compatibility rating)


• Easy to practice selective searching to find your type such as: ovser 6 feet tall, no children, makes 6 figures


• Important things are stated clearly up front in print such as: marital status (never married, divorced, separated), number of children and if said children live at home or away from home, the number of children they want to have in the future (for some reason most men choose 3), whether or not they smoke, how often they drink (never, regularly, social drink - maybe 1 or 2), whether they live alone or live with roommates, what pets they like, how often they exercise, what their interests/hobbies are...


• It's easy to tell if you are his type since he has specified the qualites he is looking for including: age range, hair and eye color, body shape (curvy, slender, about average, a few extra pounds, athletic and toned), education, and if they find the following things to be turn-ons: brainiacs, long hair, thunderstorms, skinny dipping, candlelight, assertiveness


• Sweet emails from attractive men are like the modern day love letter - who doesn't get a thrill out of man telling you that you are the most beautiful woman he has seen out of all the millions on Match.com?


• It can be a Big confidence booster. When I'm feeling down. I "Wink" at men and hope they write me sweet nothings back - seriously even if you are luckier in love than me and are actually in a relationship, you should still sign up for Match just to try this out. It's awesome!


• There are so so many men to choose from - don't like one, another one is just a click away

Cons:

• Can't accurately judge clothing style or grooming habits so you might end up on a date with a guy with high wasted khakis and Birkenstocks with socks (so far this hasn't happened to me)


• Their entire profile might be one big lie - or at least full of little small lies - I mean they are trying to make themselves look as appealing as possible
  
• They might not look like their picture in person

You get a lot of emails and winks from men you deem not compatible (i.e. NOT HOT) - seriously out of the 500 winks and emails I received in the last month, I "removed" 455 men

• It's time consuming (especially the "removing" the not hot men part) - you can literally spend hours in your little virtual world of searching for and writing to hot men on the internet


• Men sometimes get obssesive and stalk you - this can get ugly but luckily Match invented a handy "Block" function to prevent ugly stalkers from bothering you just with a click of a button! Isn't technology amazing?


• No matter how many times you write to someone, it's still a blind date, you are meeting a stranger and it's kind of stressful


• You might decide you really like someone on the Internet then never hear from them again - I mean you are just one in a million of accessible women competing for the seemingly few decent men


• Might accidentally stumble across a colleague and then they can see that you have checked their profile and they can go and check out yours!*

After comparing the two side by side my conclusion is: Why choose? Why not do both?

*This actually happened to me! Embarrassing! I don't really want my colleague checking out all my sexy flirty pictures on my Match profile page! However... I guess in the world of Old Fashioned dating, you would probably stumble across your colleague at a work Christmas party and bring him home with you to check out your sexy flirty panties! At least I have heard that sometimes happens at work Christmas parties - not saying that this is ever something that I have done! ;)