More than just friends?

Over the past few weeks, when chatting to friends about my man-confusion, a couple of them have said I may be in the "friend zone". I always thought the term was reserved for members of the opposite sex whose company you enjoyed, but whose face was not one you'd want to wake up next to after a heavy night out on the tiles. I like to refer to them as the unfuckables.

It hadn't occurred to me that I could slowly make my way into the "friend zone" with a guy I'd been romantically linked to. Surely, if you're physically attracted to someone, that never really dies? At least not unless they did something awful, like bought S Club 7 CDs or wore white socks with Jesus sandals. So, that brings me to the question, where mutual attraction is involved, does the "friend zone" ever exist?

Some people believe if you don't act on your mutual attraction in a fairly swift manner, you're cast aside into the "friend zone". Whilst I agree that an infatuation can lose its spark, I'm not sure that the attraction completely disappears. Even when dating somebody else, the attraction between you and your friend may still remain, and who's to say nothing will materialise? So, do you ever put someone you're attracted to in the "friend zone"?

If there's been sexual contact in the past, whether first base or fourth base, but the relationship didn't fully develop for whatever reason, do you put your friend in the "friend zone"? Some guys tell me if there's been sexual contact in the past, then they can never put a girl in the "friend zone". As a girl, I'd say the same. No guy I've been intimate with in the past has been put in the "friend zone" because; he's either a douchebag (and no longer my friend) or I wouldn't say no to shacking up with them again in the future.

What about if there are barriers? Perhaps you work with them or they're your best friend's ex. I guess it depends if you're a fan of risky business...

I think if a guy tells you he's worried your friendship will change or that he values you too much as a friend to become involved with you, as much as I hate to say it, he's just not that into you. However, if I said so much to one of my male friends, it would mean one of two things; I'm not attracted to you at all or I am attracted to you but I'm too scared you don't feel the same way and I want you to tell me otherwise. It's a barrier against rejection.

In my eyes, when there's mutual attraction, the "friend zone" doesn't exist, for men or for women. The "friend zone" is really only a question to be considered if you're at the stage where you know you get on well, but nothing has yet progressed. But there really is no need to worry, if the feeling is mutual, something will happen... eventually.

Are you playing The Game by The Rules?

Ask any of my friends, they'll all tell you I'm a dating disaster. I have an extraordinary, and somewhat inexplicable, talent for making guys bolt for the door. 

It's not that I'm as dull as Gwyneth Paltrow on Prozac, or that I look like Kelly Osbourne after she's been dragged through a hedge backwards (at least I hope not), so why does it keep happening? Well, according to some of my friends, it's because I'm not playing The Game. That's right, I'm being inequitably punished by Cupid just because I'm a heart-on-my-sleeve type of girl.

I can't help being an expressive person, that's who I am and I like it that way. I look at those around me who suppress their feelings and they don't seem to be as happy and content as I do. It doesn't really entice me into giving it a try. Although, it is always the ice queens who have the men running in circles around them. Just look at Mr. A.P and his obsession... She has no interest but he's right there, chasing her like a doe-eyed lost puppy. I mean, seriously, is that what the world has come to; men are dazzled by socially inept women?

On the very rare occasion that I have tried to hold back showing how I feel, it's reached a point where I can no longer bear it and end up blurting it out like a teenager with tourettes - I know it's wrong but I just can't help it.

I've often wondered what the point of playing The Game is anyway; surely there will be someone out there who will love me for my spirited nature? Well, up until now, apparently not. And it has made me consider giving The Game a shot. Ignoring calls and texts, never initiating a date, making him jealous and keeping the old trap shut. Yep, sounds great, doesn't it?

So, I've taken the first steps to playing The Game by The Rules. I've started by desperately trying not to overanalyse every call, text and conversation. Let me tell you, it's no easy task and I'm probably only down to analysing 50% of our communication. To be honest, I don't know why I analyse it anyway, as I only end up torturing myself. And my friends, who have had to continually endure the 'But what does that mean?' question.

The other step I've attempted to take is to chill out about it. What happens, happens and I can't force it. I can't make him want me, so why try? Why waste precious time and effort over it? Well, I haven't. Instead, I've made the most of my spare time by sipping Cosmopolitans with the girls and complaining about chilling out about it.

I've also began resisting the temptation to text him. I'm spurred on thanks to the iPhone, as texts are displayed as a conversation and it's satisfying to see two or more consecutive texts from him with no interception from a green bubble (a text from me). According to The Rules, I should only respond once to every four of his texts or emails. Personally, I think that's a bit extreme. That's not a game, that's being a downright bitch. After all, he is my friend and I do want that friendship to continue regardless.

The majority of my friends support my decision to play The Game, many even encourage it. Even S has told me I need to make Mr. A.P jealous by subtly mentioning other guy friends. Yes, I told S about Mr. A.P. I told him the whole excruciating story. Poor guy stayed up until 4am listening to me bang on about it the other night. Although we did chat about what happened between us too...

That's the great thing about me and S, we're quite open with each other and any embarrassment seems to just fizzle away. In fact, it's one of the reasons I'm so fond of him. 

A few things were explained to me that night, like why he abruptly left after our first meet-up since THAT night and that he does like me, and has done since we first met. That should be what I wanted to hear, right? Except it wasn't really. I was over it, I no longer craved to know how he felt and now I do know, I'm confused. But you know what, I'm not going to try to figure it out. It was dead and buried in my mind, and I'm not about to resurrect it as I'm sure it'll only haunt me. Besides, I find it hard enough playing The Game with Mr. A.P, I certainly don't need double the trouble.

What I want to know now is if any girls out there are more successful in the romance department when playing by The Rules? And guys, when a girl plays The Game, does it make you want her? Where are the boundaries between enticing and prick tease?

In the meantime, I'm hoping playing by The Rules will allow me to score. It's not yet been fruitful but something tells me not to give up hope...

When a date is a date is a date

It’s pretty obvious when you’re on a date, right? A guy asks you out for dinner, you have your hair and nails done, squeeze into that LBD that you know always makes you look a complete knock-out, don your favourite Laboutins and head to the most chic restaurant in town. Or so you’d think…

According to a male friend of mine, a date is not always a 'date’ and most guys really don’t like labelling a date a 'date’. Make sense? Apparently, men dislike the connotations associated with the word ‘date’. In other words, they think a 'date’ pressurises them into having a full blown relationship. So, if a guy just asks you to hang out one-on-one, effectively, you’re on a date. And guys think girls are complicated!

With that in mind, I thought back to how many dates I’d been on without even realising. Turns out it’s been a fair few. The reason I didn’t recognise they were dates is because they were either with a friend (but not too good a friend that it was definitely platonic) or a business acquaintance.

So, does that mean my sweaty roller blading session with Mr. A.P was a date? And my drinking binges with S were too? Do they know they were dates? And if Mr. A.P and I continue with our one-on-one blading sessions, does that mean we're dating? Well, we're going on dates, aren't we?

Still unclear on the definition of 'a date', I questioned a few friends of mine last night. What I'd hoped would give me a clear answer, turned into an insightful debate. Does a date have to be one-on-one? What if your coupled-up friends ask you out for dinner with them and their single guy friend? Is that a date? It may be a double date, but it's a date. And then what about when a single girl and her single male friend go shopping together? Surely that's not a date if you're just friends, that would be a frienaissance, which, as I learnt yesterday, is is where two friends agree to meet for a social activity on a purely platonic level.

What about a rendez-vous? To me, a rendez-vous is a little bit secretive and a little bit naughty, perhaps even downright filthy, and I wouldn't put it in the same bracket as a date. However, its literal translation from French does mean 'date' or 'appointment', suggesting it's not an illicit meeting.

Going back to 'date', according to my friend, BG, a date is sweet and is expected to grow into something. She was obviously referring to the fruit, but she had a point nonetheless... However, it was my housemate, BBD, who probably had the best definition for 'a date'. He described it as a pre-arranged meeting between two people where there is romantic intent from at least one party. I think that's as close to hitting the nail on the head as possible. Would you disagree?

BBD also mentioned that if you want to be 100% certain that you are on a date with the man in question, sleep with him. If he won't sleep with you, it wasn't a date. Unless it was a blind-date and you turned out to be a dog.

So children, now that we have (sort of) established the term 'date', we can now move on to 'dating'. Surely a string of dates with a person means that you are dating? But what if these get-togethers happen sporadically? Do the dates need to occur in quick succession, say no more than a week apart, in order to consitute 'dating'? What if you're in a LDR and only go on dates once a month? What if you go on dates with a friend once every month but you see each other in your circle of friends twice a week?

What about, what BG calls, 'the fillers'? In other words, the contact inbetween the time you went on your last date and when you go on your next date? It could be phone calls, emails, texts, seeing each other in a group of friends, facebook comments etc. Are they significant? Would a lack of fillers signify there is less romantic interest? Ultimately, without fillers, there will be no next date, so they must have some significance...

And after how many 'dates' do you consider yourself to be 'dating'? My guess would be that dating is the interim period between the first date, where you decide you have an attraction to someone or not, and entering into a relationship, which is where you have decided you want to commit to this person. The boys questioned seem to think that 'dating' only occurs after the third date. Why is that, as according to a study at the Edinburgh Science Festival a few years ago, most people decide whether or not we're partner material within the first 30 seconds of meeting?

Would you go on a second date with someone you weren't interested in dating? Nine times out of ten, the answer is no. So, a second date means you want to find out even more about that person to decide whether or not you wish to embark upon a relationship with them. Therefore, you are dating, right?

In addition to all that, BBD seemed to think that if there is no sexual contact (kissing included) after two or three dates, then you're no longer dating and have, instead, entered into a frienaissance. But what if you have had sexual contact but you weren't, technically, on a date at the time? I mean, if there's sexual contact at any time, you would consider that as romantic interest, wouldn't you?

It's a lot to think about and maybe there is no definition. Perhaps 'date' and 'dating' are subjective terms and the only certainty is that they're both minefields. However, let us not forget that they are the learning playground of life...

Do it like a lady

Not so long ago, I didn’t know what it was like to fuck like a man. By that, I mean I didn’t know how to be intimate without emotions getting in the way. The boys with whom I’d had encounters with in the past were always guys I wanted to be in a relationship with. Never had I been with a man just for instant gratification - it was always in (failed) hope that it would be a small step towards romantic bliss.

I’m one of those girls who always wants to prolong the post coital cuddle. I just love the way it’s almost like a jigsaw puzzle – two bodies connecting and fitting together so snugly; surely that had to be a good thing, right? He couldn’t possibly overlook how good we are together, could he?

As it happens, yes he can. In fact, quite often, these guys were so good at overlooking it that they made me believe they hadn’t overlooked it at all! Some of the lies spun out of it were incredible, but I shan’t go into that on this occasion.

Point is, more often than not, men simply don’t care. Over the past few years I’ve struggled to understand how it’s possible to be intimate with someone without wanting to date them. The whole caveman theory just didn’t cut it for me; society has evolved, surely genetic make-up from over two thousand years ago can’t determine how emotionally attached a guy is to me. And if that is the case then why are there millions of men out there blissfully married? It’s blatantly a theory made up by a man in a white coat to excuse himself, and any other feeble male, from making a commitment. Or so I thought…

Finally, I was enlightened over the weekend – I experienced romantic liasions where there were absolutely no emotions involved. Perhaps it was the alcohol induced, fuzzy head. Perhaps it was sheer desperation to move on from my stagnant crush on Mr. A.P. Or maybe, just maybe, reality had hit me and I wanted to find out what really goes through a man’s mind (if anything).

Aside from the initial few moments, panicking about becoming emotionally attached, it was an incredibly liberating feeling... I didn’t need this man, I didn’t even really desire him, but I was in control. I called the shots.

Saying that, I now know how it feels for a guy when all he wants is for you to leave his apartment but you’re insisting on another round. All I wanted to do was have a shower, a cup of coffee and get round to Little Miss LC’s for a debriefing session whilst having a sunbathe. Trouble is, I don’t really have the heart to tell a guy to be on his way, so I was kind of lumbered with him hanging around until my hints became less and less subtle and he eventually left.

Admittedly, I felt a little ashamed that I’d used him… until he sent me a text giving me a score out of ten!! Don’t get me wrong, it was a fairly decent score, but did he honestly think I’d give a crap? It doesn’t matter what score you give me – be it a zero or a ten – if you do that kind of thing, then I will always think you’re a jumped up prick. Afterall, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, so your little scoring system really means shit, my friend.

The next day, somewhat unexpectedly, he messages me asking for more. I had to chuckle, I could see myself in him. Had the shoe been on the other foot, I’d have definitely sent a similar text and then proceed to check my phone every five seconds for a response, which would often never materialise and then emotional torture would ensue.

Luckily, I don’t think he was emotionally attached and therefore it didn’t matter whether I responded or not. However, I thought it’d be best to tell him it wouldn’t be happening again. Whilst it may have felt good to be in control, there’s nothing like the feeling of intimacy with someone you have feelings for - every kiss and stroke is intensified and it just makes the whole experience more meaningful and more pleasurable.

Even if it ends in tears, much of the time, the goosebumps, butterflies and oh-my-god-I-can’t-believe-this-is-finally-happening thoughts are worth so much more.

So, ladies, if you’re thinking of doing it like a man, my advice would be not to bother, as I don’t think we’re built to reap the benefits the way that guys do. And boys, if you’re thinking of doing it like a girl, well, you really should because right now, you’re missing out…

Love in the desert is different.

Love in the desert is different. What I mean by that is; it’s not easy.

I spent five years on the London dating scene and there are so many ways to meet so many gorgeous men. Any girls night out in the West End will throw up at least one or two fairly decent guys. Then there’s things like speed-dating and online dating which, during my time in the big smoke, I couldn’t get enough of!

In the desert, you rely on your friends to introduce you to eligible bachelors. Yes, the ratio of men to women is about 75:25 and, yes, there are an abundance of gorgeous bars filled with men, where the nightlife thrives. But for some reason, Dubai breeds men with ridiculous egos and then lets them loose in a variety of its hotspots.

I’m not sure why men in this city think they’re all that. Perhaps it’s something to do with Dubai’s laws; afterall, it’s difficult to live here without working. And jobs like bar tending, security and mechanics are all taken by the Filipino and Indian Sub-Continent workforce. What that means is that all the Western lads living in Dubai are educated and have a good job to speak of.

I think another factor is the calibre of women in Dubai… Why? Well, generally speaking, when you exchange numbers with a guy you’ve met at a bar in Dubai, he’ll usually text within 30 minutes asking for a shag. Either that or he’ll never text at all. I think, perhaps, this may often come down to the standard of the girls in Dubai, many of whom are here for a year or two to earn a quick buck and are satisfied with a quick fuck.

Do these girls make it harder for the rest of us? If guys are constantly offered no-strings attached sex by girls laced with plastic, can the rest of us really compete? Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a bit of fun, but it’s not like I’m on a mission to gather as many notches on my bedpost as possible.

Then of course there is the whole plastic issue. Most girls in this city are plumped, cut and lasered into shape. To top it all off, they’re dressed in the shortest Chanel dress known to man, perma-tanned, have cat claw french manicures, are draped in diamonds and wearing so much make-up that I’m surprised they can hold their heads up. Most guys I know say they don’t go for the high-maintenance thing, but I know of very few guys who, in reality, would turn down a night with plastic fantastic. And, if plastic fantastic was interested, I’d bet they’d date her.

Making an effort is one thing, but splurging my entire salary on trying to be every man’s fantasy is not really what I’m about. Nor can I really afford it.

The thing about Dubai is there’s very little expression. Either that or it attracts the same kind of people. I mean, I never see goths or punks walking around... I don’t know how I differ myself from the rest, or how the rest differ themselves from me. Everything is so clean-cut and professional here that we look like carbon copies of one another in order to be aesthetically pleasing to our boss / client / friends. Saying that, perhaps it’s a good thing? If we’re all blank canvasses, then we can not judge a book by its cover…

Obviously, as a country under Sharia law, the UAE isn’t too keen on its citizens dating. That’s why you won’t find speed-dating events here, and all online dating sites are blocked. If I’m honest, I miss it. I used to love the thrill of receiving an email from a stranger, checking out his photo and then going for a date and learning so much about him. And at least I didn’t meet him when I was drunk in a bar, spewing on the dancefloor, so I can still keep an air of class about me.

I met so many guys online, including my first love. I also met J online and we still see each other seven years on. I had some disasters too though. One guy sent me photos of himself and he was so hot, I couldn’t believe my luck! Needless to say, the photos were really of a male model and the guy sending them turned out to be an overweight stalker type. But I always took precautions and had my wits about me, so I remained safe.

In London, it was always easy to meet up with at least two guys a week from an online dating website. And then of course there would be the cute guy you met at the weekend, so there were usually three dates every week. It’d be fun deciding whether I liked the guy enough to pursue it or not. Candlelit dinners, post work drinking and even a trip to Thorpe Park.

The limited online dating you do find in Dubai consists usually consists of twenty-something Indians and Pakistanis looking for a wife. Or sleazy Lebanese men who think Europeans are filthy in the bedroom. It’s rare to find a suave and sophisticated Romeo online here, and if you have, well, hat off to you!

I guess I’ve kind of succumbed to the Sharia way of dating as all the guys I’ve been with in Dubai, I’ve always met through friends. Emiratis don’t randomly date, they’re always introduced through family.

The way I see it is they’ve already been vetted out, so I know, at least, they’re not a psycho. I’ve also passed the stage where friends introduce me to someone and within minutes we’re all over each other. I like to think I’m a little more refined than that these days… Some flirty banter and a few cheeky smiles is more than enough to begin with. Then I asess what the guy is like around friends and whether or not he may be interested in me. A deep conversation or two wouldn’t go amiss either.

However, there’s always a danger to this, as I’ve experienced with Mr A.P and S. When things don’t go the way you’d like them to, you end up ducking and diving, trying to stay out of their way so the pain isn’t too raw. If they’re going to a party, you can’t go and you’re constantly checking with your friends to find out if he will be out with them or not.

So, not only are we restricted when it comes to meeting a guy, we’re also restricted when it comes to dating. Kissing in public is generally frowned upon, but, again, I do sort of agree. There’s nothing worse than seeing two mingers in a club slobbering all over each other. A sight oh so common in the UK.

I guess most of you heard about the British couple having sex on the beach here in Dubai last year? My opinion is if you want to do that, please find a secluded spot. Nobody else wants to see your white wobbly bits jiggling around as you fuck some drunk twat… take it home! Ok, we’re not meant to have sex before marriage in Dubai, it’s illegal, but the chances of you being caught in your own home are pretty damn slim.

So, whilst dating in Dubai can be trickier and requires a lot more effort, it’s also a lot more mysterious and demure, making it a little bit more fun!

Mates Rates

It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way about Dubai. Over the last year or so, I’ve found myself pining to be back in London, surrounded by familiarity, rain and old friends. Dubai had become stale and I wondered if my time was up.

I’d be sick of the sand and dust everywhere, tired of running around in the fifty degree heat and bored of unnecessaarily drawn out procedures. Even the most menial tasks became a chore.

My days seemed to blur into one, all predictable and fairly mundane. Sure, there’d be the odd occasion to write home about but nothing that really instilled that long-lasting happy feeling in your soul. Do you know what I mean? The feeling that makes you happy to be here? Proud. Where you take in your surroundings whilst singing to your favourite song that’s just come on the radio, or laugh out loud reminiscing about the night before and can’t believe how lucky you are? The place, the people, the situations…

Well, that’s how I’ve been feeling again lately. Despite the occasional disappointment in the love life department, I am so happy to be here. I’ve caught myself randomly smiling wondering why life is treating me so well… I’ve also laughed out loud when I’m on my own, thinking of my eccentric friends – all of whom are so different but all have something in common.

Since I’ve been single, my circle of friends has shifted slightly. I’m doing new things and I’ve made new (and more importantly, good) friends. Some old friends have dropped of the radar. Not for any particular reason, it’s just the way life goes. But sometimes there are some friends you know you’ll never let go of.

My three Bournemouth girls, and oldest friends, S, N and R. Despite being 3500 miles away from them for the last four years, nothing’s changed. Everytime I see them, it’s just like being cast back to our college days. We’ve been through it all together – the make-ups, the break-ups, the holding of each others’ hair whilst being sick, driving tests, university, moving away and our first steps on the career ladder.

It’s been an emotional journey, and we’ve had our ups and downs, but they’re solid friends with whom I know I’ll share even more treasured memories like promotions, weddings and babies. It’s the kind of friendship you dream of as a kid, before you get distracted by boys, and nothing can take away its magic. The purity and innocence of my friendships with S, N and R are what makes them so special and it’s probably why they haven’t faded and never will…

Then there are the friends from Uni. I stood side by side with SE and LB throught our three years at Middlesex – scraping the pennies together for another drink at the pub, spending nights playing computer games instead of completing coursework and sharing the joy on graduation day. I laugh at the memories of us striving to be more grown up than we were but showing our real age through our mistakes.

It wasn’t just lectures where I learnt and discovered new things with SE and LB, the whole three years at university were eye openers. I can learn a lot just from looking back and seeing why, out of all the friends I had at university, I chose to remain close to SE and LB throughout the years after uni. Perhaps we’re still all learning together, despite the distance. Perhaps the distance is an education in itself…

Finally there are my Dubai friends. In a city that throws unexpected changes at you, it can be difficult to maintain good friendships. I was once told I wouldn’t make good friends here due to the transient nature of Dubai. But in reality, that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

There are some people who tend to flit between different social groups, but my core friends are a constant. Never have I been so in love with a group of people, but I honestly think my friends are the best. They’ve brought back my love for Dubai!

As a group, we’re always up to something, whether it’s having a BBQ, celebrating an engagement, throwing a dinner party, going away for the weekend, electrocuting ourselves, wakeboarding, singing karaoke, skinny dipping, taking Dubai’s bars by storm, watching porn or playing the pub quiz. And even though there may be some heartache and arguments along the way, every single moment is awesome.

Whether I’ve known them four years or four months, they feel like family. If you’re in trouble, you know they’ll rally together to support you. And I’m a firm believer that you get what you give, which is why none of the bad apples linger.

When you’re 3500 miles away from home, its these guys you want to befriend; they have it all. I love each and every one of them for the same reasons and for different reasons.

M&N, aka the Cool Couple (CC) - for love and laughs
E – for loyalty and genuinity
Mr A.P – for adrenaline and mischief
NJG – for advice and honesty
HC – for bluntness and a splash of colour
RRB – for those schoolgirl giggles
KB, CJ and ML - for sanity, stories and a little education

Last but not least, Little Miss LC…

Little Miss LC is my bestie in Dubai, we’ve been friends pretty much since I first moved here and, although we had a blip for a while thanks to a relationship wanker (a boy for those of you confused), we’re pretty much inseperable. People often ask if we come as a pair and, whenever I tell someone I’m going out on the lash, they’ll always assume it’s with her. They’d be right.

I love Little Miss LC as though she were my little sister. In fact, I probably love her more. We shop together, dine together, drink together. We talk about everything and absolutely nothing. There are no taboos - sex, drugs, periods, childbirth, men, bikini waxes… You name it, we’ve talked about it. We arrive at parties together and we leave parties together, we’re side-by-side pretty much the whole way.

We’ve shared so many good times – drunk Austrian men buying us drinks, road trips with the roof down, bumping into exes and pretending not to see, being spat on by stand-up comedians, hiding people’s cigarettes and shoes, singing karaoke on our own in my flat and laughing so hard it hurts and/or we pee ourselves.

But now, now it’s coming to an end… Two months until Amsterdam steals her and it feels like a boyfriend has just split up with me. I begin to wonder - who will the new girl be? Will she be as fun as me? Will she be prettier? Will bestie think of me when she’s sipping cocktails with her?

It might take me a while to move on. Right now I can’t even think about finding a new gal pal. I guess I’ll just have to make the most of the next two months, which may explain why we’ve been out on the razzle dazzle pretty much every night over the last few days. The realisation that it’s an end of an era has finally hit home… and it’s pretty sad.

How will I tell her what I think of her new boyfriend? How will she tell me what she makes of my new man? Who will tell me if something I’ve tried on in a shop looks hideous? Who’s going to get excited with me about shoes? And who is going to drink cocktail after cocktail after cocktail with me?

I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it… In the meantime, I just want her to know I love her and I’m gonna miss the Bestie Wanker like crazy!! Bring on the nights out over the next two months, lady. And bring on my trip to Amsterdam! Dubai… Watch out!!

xxxxxxxxx

Is it in his eyes?

Cher once said if you wanna know if he loves you so, it’s in his kiss. I’m not so sure… Is taking advice from a fifty-something, gay icon with so much plastic surgery it almost makes Pete Burns look normal, a good thing? I highly doubt it.

Yes, I’m talking about Mr A.P. The last couple of weeks have all been, well, a bit of a head fuck really.

It all started getting complicated around the time of my dinner party. I thought we’d taken a step forward but, in hindsight, I think we took five steps back. The communication between the two of us has definitely stepped up a gear (there’s a lot of texting going on) but how that translates into where we are in terms of our friendship / relationship, I have no idea. And it’s not helped when most texts are either cryptic or start off by sounding like he’s interested and ending in a way to suggest we’re just friends. Why can’t men just be clear?!

So, after torturing myself thinking about it whilst I was in China and Japan (I even resorted to asking my little brother for advice. Oh the shame), I have returned to even more torture... A bunch of us took up the opportunity to rinse Dubai’s offer of free drinks on ladies night. The plan was to start at Hive (two free Cosmos), followed by Agency (two free glasses of wine), then onto Scarlett’s (five free cocktails) and hopefully ending up in Harry Ghatto’s. I think God gave us women all this free alcohol to ease the pain inflicted upon us by fuckwit men… I mean, give us a break! Us ladies already go through PMS and childbirth to bear you children and this is how you repay us?

Anyway, we all met in Hive and began down the road to oblivion. I tried to keep my distance from Mr A.P in order to guage his level of interest – would he make the effort and come over to me? Well, as it happens, he did. But I wondered on what level…

By the time we reached Harry Ghatto’s for some karaoke, we were all in our happy place. Naturally, I immediately got up to sing Alanis Morissette’s You Oughta Know. I know I sang other songs, but I have absolutely no recollection of what they were, or if I even had the ability to sing them!

The night still remains a series of blurry, alcohol induced memories. Some of which include calling a guy an egotistical wanker, stealing a bottle(!) of vodka, spilling my drink all over my dress, pinching nipples and… kissing. Yes, Mr A.P and I locked lips and, much like one of our first conversations, I was so into it that I had no idea how long it went on for. Soft, gentle and what could only be described as (if we weren’t so blindingly drunk) romantic kisses. Was this a clincher? They say your true feelings come out when you’re drunk… I hope so because our sober relationship is no more than flirty conversation, some eye contact and a few cheeky smiles.

Mid-tingling kiss, Mr A.P pulls back. This happened a few times, occasionally to look into each others eyes and smile, but this was not one of those pull backs. Nope, instead, he murmurs the words “Stop it, I shouldn’t be doing this” and then goes back to kissing me. Obviously being so hammered, it took me a few seconds to realise what he said. When I ask him what he meant, he started bleating on about the Aussie chick he’s obsessed with. Argh!! Why? Why ruin a perfectly good moment with stories about some other girl? And what makes it worse is I've heard reports that she's not that attractive and is also a complete bitch. Errmmm HELLO?! Am I missing something here?

Should I have been sober, I’d have been put off for the fear of her face popping into his head whilst we were mid pash. Eugh, that would be awful! But, being the drunken barbarian that I am, I was far too into the moment to give a fuck, so I just continued kissing him.

I do recall asking him if he loved her. He said he didn’t but I’m not sure I believe him. I mean how can a 38 year old man have such a schoolboy crush on a girl who treats him like shit and is cohabiting with another man... her boyfriend? I’m allowed obsessive crushes because I’m only 25 and obviously still have a lot to learn about men, but he really has no excuse.

So, after all the kissing that night, Mr A.P announced he was going home to crash at E’s. At that point, in my drunken haze, it made sense he came home with me, so I did the dutiful thing and offered… My offer was declined due to obsession mentioned above. Probably a good thing; wouldn’t want her popping into his head when we’re kissing, let alone during any heavier petting! Saying that, at the time I was pretty pissed off and as he went to kiss me goodbye, I pulled away.

You’d think that’d be the end of the drama for one night, but no, the next morning I find out one of the girls who came out with us tried to take Mr. A.P home at the end of the night too. Is that normal? Ok, I know I can’t really be upset about it, it's not like we're seeing each other, but I am a little shocked. If I saw a guy kissing a girl all night, there is no way on Earth I’d try to take him home because a) it’s slutty b) it’s totally inappropriate and c) I don’t have the balls for that.

Seriously though, is that what it’s coming to now? Is it acceptable to go for a guy who’s in a clinch with another girl? Am I too naïve in believing in a silent sisterhood? I didn’t realise rugby tackling other girls out of the way was order of the day in 2009!! And why is it always me this happens to? As The Bird reminded me this weekend, the same thing happened to me twice a couple of years ago – I’d really like a guy, which my friends knew about, yet said “friends” still launched themselves at the guys in question. I just can’t quite get my head around it… Ladies, opinions!

The next morning, obviously feeling a little worse for wear, I sat at my desk, bleary eyed and shaking from the alcohol abuse. (Dad, if you're reading this, I only had a couple of Malibu and Cokes.) I thought it best to send Mr A.P a text to clear the air before I start obsessing about what happened the night before. My text was quite casual, you know, along the lines of let’s just put the whole thing behind us and move on. I wasn’t really expecting a reply, but he did send one back. To me, it was cryptic. He didn’t say he wanted me, nor did it say he didn’t want me. Great! Now I’d spend the next two to three days obsessing about that text! Could he just not reply? Or would I obsess about that too? There really is no pleasing me…

Over the next couple of days, the texts went back and forth as they had been for the last couple of weeks. It wasn’t until Friday that I saw him again at the Cool Couple’s engagement party in Fujairah, and I must admit, I was a little embarrassed. I knew I had to distance myself from him and I managed to keep it up until just before he left…

My friends, however, were on a mission. Being the amazing girlfriends they are, they attempted to coax out Mr A.P’s true feelings for me (if he had any). HC, who lacks tact at the best of times, let alone when completely leathered, pulled Mr. A.P aside and got straight to the point – does he or does he not like me?

Apparently he does. During her conversation with Mr. A.P, HC took it upon herself to place bets with him on whether I was wearing underwear or not. Not your conventional gamble, but who am I to complain? There were also unconventional stakes… Shots for her, kissing me for him. I’m not going to say who bet on what, but I’ll tell you Mr A.P lost the bet.So, did he kiss me? Yes, but not because that was the deal, nor because he saw the light and finally realised I’m such an amazing girl. Why then? You know as well as I do… You don’t have a clue? Yeah, well that’s about as much as I know too!

In order to piece this puzzle together, let me explain where the kissing came in… Mr A.P intended to head back to Dubai rather than stay the night in Fujairah with the rest of us (apparently he had things to do). When it came to him leaving (he was hitching a ride with E), he started looking for his bag. In a last minute scramble to get him to stay, the girls told him they didn't think he really wanted to leave or he'd remember where his bag was. As Mr. A.P frantically searched for his bag, the girls continued to coerce him into staying. I don't know where I was when that was going on but I knew I'd have to make an attempt at getting him to stay...

I spotted him, grabbed him by the wrists and dragged him round the other side of the chalet so I could chat to him without the others around. We kissed. He pulled away. I asked him to stay. He said he couldn't. We kissed. Again. He pulled away. Again. Do you see a pattern here? This whole scenario started to irritate me. I asked him what the problem was this time and he said "It's messy". Don't I know it! For God's sake, boy, MAN UP!!! I told him I didn't understand him, that there comes a point (not sure what that point that is, but there is one) and I asked him if he really wanted to go. He told me he didn't and that he wanted to stay with us, hang out and drink but going home was the sensible thing to do.

The sensible thing to do? Is obsessing over a girl with a boyfriend the sensible thing to do? Is leading me on the sensible thing to do? No, but he does it! So where does sense come in? I told him if he wanted to go, he should go and then I stormed off and telling him I give up. He left.

Have I given up? Well, sort of. I'm trying to give up. He text me the next morning, just friendly chit chat stuff. I ignored it. I have to, otherwise we'll end up going round in circles. I'm doing to him exactly what he should be doing to Aussie chick.

Not heard from him today, so the temptation to text back wasn't there, which is great. E is having a BBQ tomorrow night. Part of me hopes he won't be there, but the other part of me hopes he will. I know I need to avoid him where possible but it's difficult when you're in the same circle of friends.

I need him to give me a definitive answer - Either; yes I like you but I need time to get over Aussie chick, no I'm not interested in you that way, or yes I like you but I have no intention of starting anything up with you. Stop leading me on and tell me the truth, it's the not knowing that's torture!! You know how I feel, if you're not interested, stop flirting with me, stop texting me everyday and stop bloody kissing me!!!

So Cher was wrong, you can't tell if it's in his kiss. In fact, as soft, gentle and amazing as his kiss is, it's quite probable that it's a load of bullshit.