A week of chic…

A week of chic…

Or at least that’s what it so nearly could’ve been.

After the last night of mayhem in London I ran off to Dubai for what I wanted to be a week of purely zen behaviour. I really needed a break since I hadn’t had one in a really stupidly long time, unless you count 5 star hotels in a city I already live in, which I don’t.

It needed to be non-stop beach days with people taking photos of me, followed by naps, followed by salads, followed by people taking pictures of me, followed by naps, followed by the spa, followed by naps, followed by hanging out with Drake if he was in town.

I don’t ask for much from my holidays.

But alas, as predicted, little or none of the above would happen to work out.

It’s really hard to nap when people are like having fun or whatever at those gross swim up bars. So I didn’t get anywhere near enough naps.

I did manage to get in lots of salads, all of which cost around £30 each because, well because Dubai is stupid af.

I didn’t enter one spa, so now I need to book a spa break. I need a holiday from my holiday.

Drake wasn’t in town, which sucked. But Dwayne Bowers was. I know this is hardly something to be excited by at all, but then you have to remember he made a song once with Victoria Beckham. She remains my absolute inspiration in life. I asked if he fcked her when they did that song together, and he said he didn’t so then I got bored and didn’t talk to him ever again.

The opposite of zen

Nothing really went how I wanted it to this time in Dubai. Firstly, my brother was a total prick. He was like all moody and no fun because he’s met a new girl and he’s in love and has forgotten the rule: Bitches before hoes. So he was a total yawnacaust.

My other friend was caught up in a dilemma about a boy who didn’t like her (we’ve all been there). I tried to offer my advice but I got snapped at and accused of “not caring about her happiness,” which would have been fine if she’d yelled it so loud the whole pool could hear her whilst also throwing a glass of cranberry juice all over my white bikini. But it didn’t happen like that.

I think she meant it, so that was a shame because the opposite was true. I was telling her to leave it because he wasn’t into her and because I clearly have that “care gene” which was annoying to find out about myself.

My other friend was caught up in a threesome she didn’t want to be a part of. A guy had been chirpsing her ready for his arrival in Dubai and at the same time he’d been chirpsing her friend about his impending arrival in Dubai. At first I was mad for her but then I found it to be really fckin cool as it’s the kind of thing I do. And by ‘do’, I mean it’s the exact thing I’m doing right now. Except I don’t think they’re all friends, but I also really hope they are.

To add to the drama and the lack of zen I decided I loved the guy from a few blogs back who was hard work at the time. So I thought I would start texting him while on the beach.

Then I showed the text thread to my brother only to be told that from a guy’s point of view this guy basically has an interest level that has dipped very far below zero.

I thought he was just one of those quiet, moody types. So hearing that he just hates me really annoyed me, because guys who hate me are my favourite types. So I was dealing with that shit as well as all the rest of it.

Then it got a lot more dramatic and even less zen.

And that’s really the only way I can explain it.

See you tomorrow…

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