Home Away From Home

I'm a lady of leisure in constant pursuit of hedonism so when it comes to holidays, I always say; yes please! Nothing feels as good as having money in your pocket and visiting the other side of the globe with a mission to soak up the sun and have yourself an amazing adventure.


My last little trip away was to the gorgeous Phuket, to escape the Sydney winter. It was there that I learned that when it comes to planning your getaway, there is one vital thing that needs to be taken into consideration; where you are staying.

After suffering with a horrible viral infection days before I was due to leave, I had not been able to get a wink of sleep and I boarded my flight in exhaustion but still too congested to get any shut-eye. For the duration of the flight I entertained myself with in-flight movies and created a playlist for myself and annoyed the passengers behind me no end by constantly readjusting my seat. At first I would try to sneakily look behind me to see if anyone was watching then I would try to recline bit by bit, cringeing the whole time and trying to do it as carefully as possible. My theory was that if it was a gradual thing my mate behind me wouldn't notice or care. That soon became boring and before long I was cockily holding down the button, sending my seat flying up and down at a moment's notice so the poor guy behind me had to suffer.

Then delirium set in... I was travelling with my sister and we decided to watch a movie together but wanted to sync it at the exactly the same second so we could follow it at precisely the same moment. Much to my dismay my headphones weren't working. Now after 40 hours of no sleep and maybe something to do with cabin pressure, I was so disappointed and desperate to watch the movie that I grabbed at my sister's headphones. We then continued to fight each other over a pair of headphones and ended up bashing the seats in front and behind causing a bit of chaos and weird looks as we pulled each others hair in between hysterical laugher. You get the idea- we went a little crazy. The whole flight I felt restless and loony and by the time we landed in Thailand in 35 degree muggy heat I just wanted my hotel room.

As we arrived into the airport, I immediately regretted wearing thick black jeans. We hadn't even been outside for five minutes and already they were sticking to me. The black shirt I chose to wear did nothing for my pale almost translucent skin and you could spot my pores from a mile away. There were other travellers with lovely tans and beautiful summer dresses and next to them I just looked the ugly, white, pudgy tourist. I felt a mess and was dying to get to our luxurious hotel room. My sister and I looked at each other and telepathically communicated that we were to go straight to our room to relax and there would be no scenic routes or pit stops to sample the Thai cuisine. The whole hour we just kept repeating to each other reassuringly, 'Okay let's just get to our hotel, have a shower, order room service and relax.'

The place we had booked was absolutely beautiful. We had our own private spa and pool access as our balcony sat right on the pool area. It was absolutely luxurious inside and I couldn't wait to relax and fall asleep on my lovely hotel sheets as I envisioned what I had seen on the internet on the hotel's website. As the cab driver dropped us off in front of the resort, two bell boys took our luggage and we strode in, eager to relax. But as we walked through and had a quick peek of the pool area, I couldn't help but notice all the families. And not just families; (because I'm cool with families) but trailer-trash families. Shaven head men with tattoos, holding beer cans and drunkenly yelling out. Mothers with mullets and midriff baring tops yelling at their kids, 'stop runnin' you effin little shit!' I looked at my sister in disbelief. How on Earth were we going to tan and relax in the midst of this!? We agreed to go straight to our room and in regards to the tanning; if worst came to worst we could tan at the beach across the road to escape these hooligans.

After finally being ushered to our deluxe suite we opened the door and the shock could not have been greater. The tiled floor was stained and dirty and a cheap, plastic bowl of fruit mockingly welcomed us. The decor screamed shabby not chic and when my sister went to try inspect the wardrobe, the door fell off its hinges. The bathroom though, was by far the worst. It actually looked so nasty that it crossed the borders of creepy and eerie. And as I peered into the toilet bowel I noticed that it was blocked. Charming... How on Earth were we meant to relax here? Isn't the hotel meant to be the 'safe haven' and how could these people have charged us so much for staying at this dump? (Nevermind the fact that you couldn't even take a dump in this hell-hole) We were that incredulous we took photos as proof of what we were dealing with here. Then we started shoving everything back into our luggage and without showering we put on some summer attire and headed straight back out the door to find another place to stay.

An hour later we were finally settled in the divine Holiday Inn, in a luxurious hotel resort complete with two massive separate wings, pool area with pool bar, restaurants, spa and NORMAL looking families. The staff were lovely, mocktails free-flowing and our bathroom was actually a piece of heaven! I would have been happy to just simply stay in the whole time and order room service.

Now it doesn't matter whether you stay in a five-star resort or a charming little bungalow, the important thing that needs to be taken into account is that it fits the criteria you are after whether it be comfort or adventure. And all in all it needs to feel safe, homely and put you at ease so you can truly relax and put that title of 'lady of leisure' to good use!

Gentleman vs Boy Next Door

My pre-requisites for what I wanted from a guy used to consist of a long list of 'gentleman-like' qualities. He should pull out my chair when I sit down, stand up when I go to leave the table, put his jacket over a puddle etc. Basically I wanted someone to put me up on a pedestal and offer me the kind of attention you now only see in those old fifties movies.


But sometimes it takes meeting someone completely different, to shake up your perspective and show you the difference between what you want and what you actually need. This epiphany came about when I accepted a date, unaware of the little revelation that was about to stir up my world.

The night started off seemingly innocent and unassuming. Cocktails in hand, we were deep in conversation as we explored each others lives and slowly let our guard down as we got to know each other better. We broke all the so-called first date rules by speaking about our ex's, drinking far too much and engaging in more than just a goodnight kiss on the cheek...

The next morning (feeling suitably hung-over) I lay in bed reminiscing about the previous night and felt something different. I felt alive and free! Free from the usual constraints that are involved in those first few outings when meeting someone new. How so? Let me explain. When you date a man who is the very essence of a gentleman, you in turn must behave like a lady. It's only fair right? Now I for one am definitely not a prim and proper kind of woman and it's evident when you look at the kind of nicknames I've had, one being 'what-a-mess' in reference to that cartoon dog that always got itself into some sort of trouble. I'm sure a dapper, well-groomed, posh gentleman would expect more from partner than a (euphemistically speaking) happy-go-lucky, free spirit that isn't likely to censor anything travelling from mind to mouth. And to be quite honest; although the whole concept of having a man at my every beck and call seems appealing; nothing is more attractive than someone who can make you laugh until you cry and completely puts you at ease resulting in things to just flow so effortlessly.

That was when I started to re-think what I actually looked for in a guy. Did I want someone who I had to put on airs and graces with, with the benefit that he held a door open for me? Or was I after someone who would be more like a best friend to me and would tell me to grow up if I threw a tantrum. I thought back to a date I had gone on a few months ago that hadn't really worked out the way I had thought it would. We were having dinner at a lovely restaurant and the guy in question had just ordered my main for me when I realised I had forgotten my house keys. I expressed my annoyance by using the F word which did not go down too well with my date. His face kind of tightened and his jaw clenched as he calmly said, 'That's no language for a lady.' I felt like replying with, 'So I guess the C word is out of the question?' but I sensed that my little joke would not have gone down very well. Needless to say, dinner was strained and the mood was tense.

Partnering up with someone is less about manners and more about doing things for each other, enjoying each other's company and sharing experiences without feeling you need to behave or act in a certain way. That's when you find an undeniable connection, when you are completely on the same wave length with someone and there's no need to put on a show to try to impress one another. It's the little things that count such as him letting you choose the movie even if it's When Harry Met Sally or him taking the time to get to know you and understand you better rather than talking over you to brag about his fabulous promotion or brand new sports car... Yawn. I prefer a guy that's not going to look down on my secret obsession with Playstation and rather someone who is willing to play along-side me.

Because when it comes down to it, a guy racing around the other side of the car to open my door isn't the thing that's going to cheer me up on a bad day, you want someone fun who will put a smile on your face and who truly makes you feel understood and loved.