Tuesday 25th August 2015 - Tinder

The other day, I was skyping my darling father, when he suddenly enquired as to why I am on Tinder. A little embarrasing. Still unsure how he found this out.

The thing is, when you move to a country without any friends at all, and you’re sitting on your IKEA bed which took you near on two hours to construct (mostly because the tears hindered your vision, and therefore your ability to read and follow the instructions), the friend search hits desperation. I’m not one to pop off to a bar on my own. So Tinder seemed like the best option.

Plus, it’s a really funny game. My two favourite tinder players are:

1) Those who have caught wind of the hot-man-holding-a-puppy thing, and therefore have ensured to have a fluffy animal in all photos.

2) Those who think that a photo of their midriff is better than their face. Even if it’s not a particularly good one. Beer-belly selfies don’t tend to make girls go weak at the knees guys.

It was quite a sad moment when Tinder sent me a notification the other day, saying I’d been inactive for aaaages and they like totally missed me. But hey, no longer feel the need to shop for friends on the internet so that’s a good thing.