Hey Dolls,
So after writing the last couple of blogs, I have had numerous tweets and emails asking me how and why I am so confident.
How: Well, I am just naturally outgoing and have a 'I do not really care, I rock" attitude.
Why: Cos I can be!!
We all have it in us to be outgoing and confident. If you are shy and want to be out there more, now is the time!
I have decided to write some tips to help :)
1) Hold on to compliments..
When someone gives you a compliment, a lot of the time we brush it off.
"Wow, you dress is stunning?" Your reply - "Do you like it? I think I look a bit fat in it."
WRONG REPLY! If some one tells you they like your dress, or your hair looks good, or your make up is awesome, or you have lips like Angelina Jolie or a butt like Jlo, you should acknowledge it and accept it. Dont' just think they are being polite. Cherish the appreciation. Store it in your mind so next time when you are feeling a bit low about yourself, just remember that someone told you something positive. Remember that time and how it boosted your self esteem and let it make you feel wonderful again.
2) Body confidence..
As girls, much of our self esteem is wrapped up in body image. You need to find ways to appreciate your body and feel sexy. We all know, the best way to feel great before a night out is a new dress, or a haircut or even a spray tan, but this won't make you feel great each time. Stop critiscising every lump and bump. Embrace what you have. If there are certain things you like about yourself, FLAUNT THEM! Got nice legs? Wear a short dress! Got a good bum? Wear great jeans! Got a nice cleavage? Wear a low cut top! Men love a real woman and will not even notice half the things about yourself you dislike. They will only know when you start moaning about it, and men hate nothing more than a girl who moans! Do not be afraid to feel beautiful!
3)Love the haters..
There will always be people in your life who will hate. Girls especially can be very jelous and envious. When they are, they can go to extreme measures to make you aware. Guys also can be rude, especially when they do not get what you want. In truth, I have been called so many names. People call me fat, people have called me ugly, people have said I will get nothing in life. Well, ye, I may not be a size 10 but I am happy with who I am and how I look and I embrace that. I do not need to be a size 10 to be the happy, funny and outgoing person I am. I know I am beautiful and that is what matters and I want you all to be the same. If someone knocks you down, you get up and move on and let it make you stronger. The only reason someone will say nasty things about you is because deep down, they want to be you!
In the words of Nikki Minaj.. "Shout out to my haters sorry that you couldn't phase me!"
4) Respect..
Respect and love yourself before you let anyone else do it for you!
Confidence comes from loving yourself enough to know you deserve everything you dream of. Whatever flaws you may have, doesn't make you less worthy for all the great things in life. You may feel different and stand out. Well, what makes you different, makes you beautiful.
I hope this helps and if you have any questions you can email me Blogdoll21@gmail.com or on twitter @LittleMissVak or comment underneath this blog..
Be fierce, be positive, have faith and share the love!
Love Little Miss V..xx
Tuesday, 24 May 2011
Thursday, 19 May 2011
2 for the price of 1...
11.20am: I recieve a text message from Dean.
"Hi Ilana, are we still on for tonight's dinner? I hope so."
Well this is a first, a guy texting at 11 in the morning to ask if our date for tonight is still on, and he hopes so. He is excited. This is good. Yet, not so good as to be honest, I am not so excited.
I met Dean on a dating site. We have been talking for the past two months. He is tall, awell built, green eyes, golden hair and works in property. Over the phone and texting/emails, we got on well but who knows what it will be like when we actually meet up for the first time.
11.45am: "Hey Dean, I will meet you at the restaurant at 8pm. See you then x. "
Date number one, sorted.
1.46pm: I recieve a text message from Chris.
"Hey Ilana, are we still on for desert tonight?"
Let me introduce you to Chris. Chris is a guy I met a few years ago at a club through mutual friends. He is one of those guys that when I see out we are always happy to see eachother and say how long its been and we should meet up. He is also the guy I kiss when I am out on a drunken night and he is there. Chris is a little taller than me, pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes and quite skinny. He works as an electrician and I won't lie, his personality is as bright as his job!
After re kindling our friendship via Facebook, he decided to tell me that he has always had 'a thing' for me and would like to take me out. I agreed but told him I had a very busy week and could only meet late Wednesday night as I had a meeting before hand. (Little did he know that I was actually going for a date first.) The reason I said Wednesday to Chris as well was because to be honest, I am not that big on dating. So thought if I had already had dinner with Dean, had a few glasses of Vino down me, I would still be up for meeting Chris.
11.52am: "Hey Chris, yeah tonight is still on. See you 9.30ish."
5pm: I left work early so decided to go for a swim to freshen me up before my nightime of activities.
8pm: I arrive at the restaurant on time (for once in my life) and I see Dean already sitting at a table waiting for me. I knew it was him instantly. His golden hair swooped back off of his face and wearing a suit (which makes me melt) I thought this would be a great evening. How wrong was I!! As much as Dean is great to look at, I would have much rather have sat there with ear plugs in. His conversation was as dull as it could be. He tried to boast that his job was very high rated in the property community. There was me thinking, "No love, you are just an Estate Agent!"
Second large glass of wine ordered. The meal was very nice yet instead of listening to Dean, I really put alot of energy into cutting my food in to shapes. I had a lot of fun cutting my chicken in the shapes of hearts and squares and I don't think Dean even noticed me doing this as he was so occupied by the sound of his own voice.
9.15pm: I excuse myself to the ladies room where I text Chris to let him know I have only just left my meeting and will arrive about 15 minutes late. Wow, I have already lied to this guy twice in one day, great start. I have not even left Dean's date yet but need to drive twenty minutes away to meet Chris.
I go back to the table and Dean asks if I would like desert. I tell him that I am so tired and need to get going. We get the bill and obviously I get my purse out but Dean insists that he pays. We walk to our cars and he leans in for a kiss goodbye and I kiss his cheek. The look on his face was to say "I just paid for our dinner and your massive glasses of wine and you give me the cheek?" I told him I had a wonderful evening and we will speak tomorrow. Two more lies.
9.45pm: I arrive to meet Chris 15 minutes late but he didn't seem too bothered. He tells me I seem tipsy (which I am) and once again I lie and say, "Oh yes we had a few bottles of wine on the table at the work dinner meeting." Lied again. I am glad I drank during my date with Dean because I feel much more at ease now with Chris. So we order coffee and I order a slice of bannoffee pie. Obviously I need something to soak up the alcohol.
So Chris and I are getting on swimmingly when he makes me laugh whilst I take a sip of my coffee and I choke. Now my friends and family know that you cannot make me laugh whilst I am drinking as spitting it out is a regular occurance. So I knew it was about to happen so held it in, which lead to me choking on my drink. Luckily, Chris found it really funny which was good. Had I have been with Dean, he probably would have got behind me and said "I am in property, I know how the Heimlich Maneuver!"
Thinking this, I started giggling to myself and had to blame it on the fact that what happened was funny.
So Chris and I finish desert and our coffee and asks if I would like to take a walk. I agreed and we took a nice stroll. At one point, Chris took hold of my hand and I actually had butterflies in my stomach.
He then walked me to my car and leant in for a kiss. Waheyy, two guys trying to kiss me in one night. Instead of kissing his cheek like I did to Dean, I leant forward and kissed his lips. This then lead to a really passionate kiss up against my car.
Let's just say, his friend popped up to say hello. As much as I wanted to carry on this passion filled moment, the last thing I wanted was another stain on the back seat of my car.
I broke free from the tonsil tennis we were playing and told him I had a wonderful time. First bit of truth in the evening.
11.15pm: I am driving home and my phone beeps. It is a text message from Dean. "Hey Ilana, thanks for coming for dinner with me tonight. I had a great time and I think our connection is great. Would you like to go on a second date?x"
Reading this I burst out laughing. I am sat at traffic lights in the car laughing to myself. The guy in the car next to me thinks I am a freak! I feel the urge to reply saying, "Hey Dean, thank you for tonight. To be honest, the best part of my night was cutting shapes in my chicken and I found out that I am really good at it and it could infact be a talent. I really could not sit with you for another minute and talk about how many viewings you go on a day or how you won 'Agent of the month' because to be honest, I would rather sit in a pile of horse cack! I would however like to thank you for paying and also let you know that your hair looked wonderful. Take Care. Ilana."
Oh how I wish I could send that. Instead, I do not reply.
12.30am: I am lying in bed dosing off when my phone beeps. Chris is phoning. I clear it as I am practically half asleep and he leaves a voice message which says, "Hey babe, I really had a good time tonight and want to see you again soon."
This made me smile. I really had a good time and do like Chris. I also liked that fact he was having a party in his pants from just kissing me. He will most certainly be seeing me again soon....
"Hi Ilana, are we still on for tonight's dinner? I hope so."
Well this is a first, a guy texting at 11 in the morning to ask if our date for tonight is still on, and he hopes so. He is excited. This is good. Yet, not so good as to be honest, I am not so excited.
I met Dean on a dating site. We have been talking for the past two months. He is tall, awell built, green eyes, golden hair and works in property. Over the phone and texting/emails, we got on well but who knows what it will be like when we actually meet up for the first time.
11.45am: "Hey Dean, I will meet you at the restaurant at 8pm. See you then x. "
Date number one, sorted.
1.46pm: I recieve a text message from Chris.
"Hey Ilana, are we still on for desert tonight?"
Let me introduce you to Chris. Chris is a guy I met a few years ago at a club through mutual friends. He is one of those guys that when I see out we are always happy to see eachother and say how long its been and we should meet up. He is also the guy I kiss when I am out on a drunken night and he is there. Chris is a little taller than me, pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes and quite skinny. He works as an electrician and I won't lie, his personality is as bright as his job!
After re kindling our friendship via Facebook, he decided to tell me that he has always had 'a thing' for me and would like to take me out. I agreed but told him I had a very busy week and could only meet late Wednesday night as I had a meeting before hand. (Little did he know that I was actually going for a date first.) The reason I said Wednesday to Chris as well was because to be honest, I am not that big on dating. So thought if I had already had dinner with Dean, had a few glasses of Vino down me, I would still be up for meeting Chris.
11.52am: "Hey Chris, yeah tonight is still on. See you 9.30ish."
5pm: I left work early so decided to go for a swim to freshen me up before my nightime of activities.
8pm: I arrive at the restaurant on time (for once in my life) and I see Dean already sitting at a table waiting for me. I knew it was him instantly. His golden hair swooped back off of his face and wearing a suit (which makes me melt) I thought this would be a great evening. How wrong was I!! As much as Dean is great to look at, I would have much rather have sat there with ear plugs in. His conversation was as dull as it could be. He tried to boast that his job was very high rated in the property community. There was me thinking, "No love, you are just an Estate Agent!"
Second large glass of wine ordered. The meal was very nice yet instead of listening to Dean, I really put alot of energy into cutting my food in to shapes. I had a lot of fun cutting my chicken in the shapes of hearts and squares and I don't think Dean even noticed me doing this as he was so occupied by the sound of his own voice.
9.15pm: I excuse myself to the ladies room where I text Chris to let him know I have only just left my meeting and will arrive about 15 minutes late. Wow, I have already lied to this guy twice in one day, great start. I have not even left Dean's date yet but need to drive twenty minutes away to meet Chris.
I go back to the table and Dean asks if I would like desert. I tell him that I am so tired and need to get going. We get the bill and obviously I get my purse out but Dean insists that he pays. We walk to our cars and he leans in for a kiss goodbye and I kiss his cheek. The look on his face was to say "I just paid for our dinner and your massive glasses of wine and you give me the cheek?" I told him I had a wonderful evening and we will speak tomorrow. Two more lies.
9.45pm: I arrive to meet Chris 15 minutes late but he didn't seem too bothered. He tells me I seem tipsy (which I am) and once again I lie and say, "Oh yes we had a few bottles of wine on the table at the work dinner meeting." Lied again. I am glad I drank during my date with Dean because I feel much more at ease now with Chris. So we order coffee and I order a slice of bannoffee pie. Obviously I need something to soak up the alcohol.
So Chris and I are getting on swimmingly when he makes me laugh whilst I take a sip of my coffee and I choke. Now my friends and family know that you cannot make me laugh whilst I am drinking as spitting it out is a regular occurance. So I knew it was about to happen so held it in, which lead to me choking on my drink. Luckily, Chris found it really funny which was good. Had I have been with Dean, he probably would have got behind me and said "I am in property, I know how the Heimlich Maneuver!"
Thinking this, I started giggling to myself and had to blame it on the fact that what happened was funny.
So Chris and I finish desert and our coffee and asks if I would like to take a walk. I agreed and we took a nice stroll. At one point, Chris took hold of my hand and I actually had butterflies in my stomach.
He then walked me to my car and leant in for a kiss. Waheyy, two guys trying to kiss me in one night. Instead of kissing his cheek like I did to Dean, I leant forward and kissed his lips. This then lead to a really passionate kiss up against my car.
Let's just say, his friend popped up to say hello. As much as I wanted to carry on this passion filled moment, the last thing I wanted was another stain on the back seat of my car.
I broke free from the tonsil tennis we were playing and told him I had a wonderful time. First bit of truth in the evening.
11.15pm: I am driving home and my phone beeps. It is a text message from Dean. "Hey Ilana, thanks for coming for dinner with me tonight. I had a great time and I think our connection is great. Would you like to go on a second date?x"
Reading this I burst out laughing. I am sat at traffic lights in the car laughing to myself. The guy in the car next to me thinks I am a freak! I feel the urge to reply saying, "Hey Dean, thank you for tonight. To be honest, the best part of my night was cutting shapes in my chicken and I found out that I am really good at it and it could infact be a talent. I really could not sit with you for another minute and talk about how many viewings you go on a day or how you won 'Agent of the month' because to be honest, I would rather sit in a pile of horse cack! I would however like to thank you for paying and also let you know that your hair looked wonderful. Take Care. Ilana."
Oh how I wish I could send that. Instead, I do not reply.
12.30am: I am lying in bed dosing off when my phone beeps. Chris is phoning. I clear it as I am practically half asleep and he leaves a voice message which says, "Hey babe, I really had a good time tonight and want to see you again soon."
This made me smile. I really had a good time and do like Chris. I also liked that fact he was having a party in his pants from just kissing me. He will most certainly be seeing me again soon....
Monday, 2 May 2011
Mile High..
So, I am sat on the plane on my journey back from Spain to London, next to a Dane Cook look-a-like. He is tall, tanned, rugged looking with stubble and perfect white teeth. We are sat on the emergency exit row which means we have lots of leg room but does not mean that our legs do not stop touching.
We started talking to one another about ten minutes after he sat next to me and I find out that he works as a painter and decorator which I can imagine he is great at. I then started imagining him wearing nothing but denim overalls with paint all over himself, and then with no overalls. OK, great - I am sat in the window seat imagining the Dane Cook look-a-like naked.
I find out Mr Cook's real name is Pierre. "Very French" I said. He then told me that his mother is French and that his dad is Spanish (perfect Med mix) and the reason for his trip to Spain was to visit his family. So now the overalls image is out of my head and I am imagining mine and Pierre's beautiful looking Med children. His Spanish/French looks and my Moroccan/Israeli looks - would make gorgeous children. OK Ilana, stop thinking about having children with a man you met 15 minutes ago.
I decided I would try and impress Pierre with my great French knowledge, which went down well and made him laugh. You see, the French I speak is what I remember from school. For example, 'les pantalons brun' = the brown trousers. Or 'jai voudrais une aller returne le Paris non fumer merci' - I would like a return ticket to Paris non smoking please. Or how about the one that made me giggle to myself - 'jai voudrais le jambon' - I want ham. So I say the word ham and I think meat, then I think of sausage and then I think of his sausage. So now my eyes are focusing on his package area and I am hoping he does not notice. I am trying to look in his eyes as we speak but my eyes are wondering. It's like my brain only wants to think of cock and nothing else.
Pierre then notices my book lodged in front of my legs in the compartment on the back of the seat in front and asks to see it. OK, now I am embarrassed. The book I am reading is called "Sleeping Around: Secrets Of A Sexual Adventure" by Catherine Townsend. I see a smile forced on his face but I think he is slightly shocked. He then asks me what the book is about. Right, how do I explain this book and put it simply?
"Well Pierre, it is about an American girl living in London who writes a sex column for the Telegraph and basically shares her sex life and most intimate feelings with us."
"Is it any good?" Pierre asked. My reply - "Oh it is great! She talks about guys she sleeps with, their penis sizes and sex toys!" OH MY GOSH.. Did I actually just tell this gorgeous man that I am reading a book about penis sizes and vibrators?! As if that isn't bad enough, I can not get the thought of the size of Pierre's penis out of my head.
I then start thinking about how I would love to earn points for the Mile High Club! Unfortunately, on board an EasyJet plane, there are two toilets only. One situated at the front of the plane and one at the back. The whole plane including staff would have to be asleep for me to be able to sneak in with Pierre. If only we were on board a BA flight where they have curtains to hide the toilet areas. They are also slightly bigger toilets that the ones on Easyjet which just about fit my ass inside.
So, there I am, deep in thought about sleeping with Pierre, and he has dozed off. Typical man. I am hoping his head falls onto my shoulder. To be fair, I am wearing a low cut top and I have seen him checking out my cleavage. Check away Pierre. Have a squeeze for all I care. They cannot be missed, they are quite the pair let me add.
I lean my head on the window and doze off. Both Pierre and myself are both awoken by an announcement on the plane. "Are there any doctors or medics on board this flight? If so please come see one of the staff immediately!" Everyone is looking around to see what has happened and who has fallen ill. We then find out a man is feeling very faint and he is taken oxygen. I kind of wanted to shoot up my hand and say "I am a doctor!" I am nowhere near a doctor. But surely with a first aid certificate and having watched seven seasons of Greys Anatomy, I am close to medic status.
So Pierre and I are now both fully awake and he asks me if I am single. To which I reply, "Yes I am now. I was dating someone before I went away but it just wasn't working." The reason I said this was I wanted him to think that as it was nothing serious I am happy to move on but still only ended two weeks ago so he should try harder. To my excitement, Pierre told me that he is also single and the 'guy' I was dating obviously did not deserve me, which I agreed with.
The seat belt sign is switched on and a voice announces that we will shortly be landing in London Luton. That two and a half hour journey went by so quickly and I desperately wished Pierre and I were on a ten hour flight to South Africa.
I told Pierre that I hate landing and he held my hand. As he took hold of my hand, my whole body tingled. I could no longer think about my fear of planes and landing but instead just thought about snogging the face off him. My imagination really gets the better of me sometimes.
The plane lands, everyone claps and the seatbelt sign is switched off. Pierre lets go of my hand and stands up to reach into the overhead compartment to get both of our bags. As he is standing there, his shirt was lifted and I can see a trail of hair, most usually known as the 'snail trail' leading from his tummy downwards. Once again, I am fixated on his package, just wanting to open his zip. His tanned arms then lean towards me, handing me over my bag. As I take my bag, I touch his hand, our eyes meet and we both smile. I think I just made a mess in my knickers.
We walk off of the plane and into the terminal. We get to the luggage carousel and to my amazement, my suitcase is the first one coming around. This never happens. It is usually last. Pierre helps me to get it onto my trolley. Now it is time to say goodbye. I know my mum is waiting for me in the car park but all I want to do is go back with Pierre. He grabs my shoulders and gives me a kiss on both cheeks and tells me it was great meeting me. He then asks me a question that makes my face beam like the Cheshire cat. He asks for my number. I give it to him without hesitation, put my bag on my shoulder and wave him goodbye in hopes I hear from him shortly....
We started talking to one another about ten minutes after he sat next to me and I find out that he works as a painter and decorator which I can imagine he is great at. I then started imagining him wearing nothing but denim overalls with paint all over himself, and then with no overalls. OK, great - I am sat in the window seat imagining the Dane Cook look-a-like naked.
I find out Mr Cook's real name is Pierre. "Very French" I said. He then told me that his mother is French and that his dad is Spanish (perfect Med mix) and the reason for his trip to Spain was to visit his family. So now the overalls image is out of my head and I am imagining mine and Pierre's beautiful looking Med children. His Spanish/French looks and my Moroccan/Israeli looks - would make gorgeous children. OK Ilana, stop thinking about having children with a man you met 15 minutes ago.
I decided I would try and impress Pierre with my great French knowledge, which went down well and made him laugh. You see, the French I speak is what I remember from school. For example, 'les pantalons brun' = the brown trousers. Or 'jai voudrais une aller returne le Paris non fumer merci' - I would like a return ticket to Paris non smoking please. Or how about the one that made me giggle to myself - 'jai voudrais le jambon' - I want ham. So I say the word ham and I think meat, then I think of sausage and then I think of his sausage. So now my eyes are focusing on his package area and I am hoping he does not notice. I am trying to look in his eyes as we speak but my eyes are wondering. It's like my brain only wants to think of cock and nothing else.
Pierre then notices my book lodged in front of my legs in the compartment on the back of the seat in front and asks to see it. OK, now I am embarrassed. The book I am reading is called "Sleeping Around: Secrets Of A Sexual Adventure" by Catherine Townsend. I see a smile forced on his face but I think he is slightly shocked. He then asks me what the book is about. Right, how do I explain this book and put it simply?
"Well Pierre, it is about an American girl living in London who writes a sex column for the Telegraph and basically shares her sex life and most intimate feelings with us."
"Is it any good?" Pierre asked. My reply - "Oh it is great! She talks about guys she sleeps with, their penis sizes and sex toys!" OH MY GOSH.. Did I actually just tell this gorgeous man that I am reading a book about penis sizes and vibrators?! As if that isn't bad enough, I can not get the thought of the size of Pierre's penis out of my head.
I then start thinking about how I would love to earn points for the Mile High Club! Unfortunately, on board an EasyJet plane, there are two toilets only. One situated at the front of the plane and one at the back. The whole plane including staff would have to be asleep for me to be able to sneak in with Pierre. If only we were on board a BA flight where they have curtains to hide the toilet areas. They are also slightly bigger toilets that the ones on Easyjet which just about fit my ass inside.
So, there I am, deep in thought about sleeping with Pierre, and he has dozed off. Typical man. I am hoping his head falls onto my shoulder. To be fair, I am wearing a low cut top and I have seen him checking out my cleavage. Check away Pierre. Have a squeeze for all I care. They cannot be missed, they are quite the pair let me add.
I lean my head on the window and doze off. Both Pierre and myself are both awoken by an announcement on the plane. "Are there any doctors or medics on board this flight? If so please come see one of the staff immediately!" Everyone is looking around to see what has happened and who has fallen ill. We then find out a man is feeling very faint and he is taken oxygen. I kind of wanted to shoot up my hand and say "I am a doctor!" I am nowhere near a doctor. But surely with a first aid certificate and having watched seven seasons of Greys Anatomy, I am close to medic status.
So Pierre and I are now both fully awake and he asks me if I am single. To which I reply, "Yes I am now. I was dating someone before I went away but it just wasn't working." The reason I said this was I wanted him to think that as it was nothing serious I am happy to move on but still only ended two weeks ago so he should try harder. To my excitement, Pierre told me that he is also single and the 'guy' I was dating obviously did not deserve me, which I agreed with.
The seat belt sign is switched on and a voice announces that we will shortly be landing in London Luton. That two and a half hour journey went by so quickly and I desperately wished Pierre and I were on a ten hour flight to South Africa.
I told Pierre that I hate landing and he held my hand. As he took hold of my hand, my whole body tingled. I could no longer think about my fear of planes and landing but instead just thought about snogging the face off him. My imagination really gets the better of me sometimes.
The plane lands, everyone claps and the seatbelt sign is switched off. Pierre lets go of my hand and stands up to reach into the overhead compartment to get both of our bags. As he is standing there, his shirt was lifted and I can see a trail of hair, most usually known as the 'snail trail' leading from his tummy downwards. Once again, I am fixated on his package, just wanting to open his zip. His tanned arms then lean towards me, handing me over my bag. As I take my bag, I touch his hand, our eyes meet and we both smile. I think I just made a mess in my knickers.
We walk off of the plane and into the terminal. We get to the luggage carousel and to my amazement, my suitcase is the first one coming around. This never happens. It is usually last. Pierre helps me to get it onto my trolley. Now it is time to say goodbye. I know my mum is waiting for me in the car park but all I want to do is go back with Pierre. He grabs my shoulders and gives me a kiss on both cheeks and tells me it was great meeting me. He then asks me a question that makes my face beam like the Cheshire cat. He asks for my number. I give it to him without hesitation, put my bag on my shoulder and wave him goodbye in hopes I hear from him shortly....
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