from experience, you had probably gathered that i haven’t actually died - it’s just that time of year when another of my events are just around the corner.

now, its safe to say that if you ask anyone to summarise me in a word, “random” comes up at least 7 out of 10 times. i’ve learned that sleep deprivation doesn’t help matters. A few weeks of 20 hour days has lead to today. there’s not much more to say about today than…

1. i spent 5 minutes wondering why my mouse seemed to do the opposite of what i wanted, only to find it was upside down
2. it took me until 10pm to realise that my shirt was inside out
3. i apologised for being a whinging minnie in only the way i can - “i’m sorry for being a minging whinney”

anyway, that’s why i haven’t been posting much - it’s kind of for your own benefit, but normal service will resume shortly…

Our Borrowed Items

Originally uploaded by mel kirk

don’t send out the search parties, i’m still alive - i’ve just been really lame at updating the blog, but thanks for pointing that out to me anyway!

i’ve been incredibly busy with work and then there was the small subject of a hen weekend for my best friend last weekend. i know the normal rule is “what goes on tour, stays on tour” - but we went to a spa, so i’m not sure the whole tour rule counts, so i’m going to tell you anyway.

i shoud start by adding the disclaimer that for a hen party i think that we were very well behaved. that is until saturday night came. the hen herself suggested that we should start a competition to see who could borrow the most items from the hotel (without the hotel’s permission). now whilst some might call that stealing, i definitely prefer to think of it as borrowing as i never had any intention of taking any of it home - even before management came and told me off!

a few knives, forks, plates and knapkins later, i took it upon myself to take it up a notch. the test really came when i walked out of the restaurant with 3 of the largest red wine glasses down my silk top - covered meerly with the balloons that i was carrying infront of me. you can imagine that things weren’t helped when the 12 year old waiter tried flirting with me and asked me for one of my balloons. i don’t think i’ve ever been so rude and definitely not unintentionally - i just said no and walked off… poor mite.

when i got to the room and unleashed my borrowed items, a sense of anti-climax washed over me - it was just too easy. before you know it, the luggage trolley wheeled itself from reception into my room, a white table cloth fell over the top of me disguising the huge ornament in my arms, tables and chairs made their way to my room and the huge sun umbrella had wheeled itself around the outside of the hotel to my room. i would say in my room, but trust me, i tried and it was just completely impossible.

the next day, 9am was the time of reveal. everyone gathered around our room, only to find that there was a fully laid table of borrowed goods on the decking outside of our room, nicely shaded by the umbrella. to say that we were proud of ourselves is a slight understatement and all was good with the world. that is until the men in black suits started marching their way towards us. we were told we had 5 minutes to return all items as they had faith that people wouldn’t take things from them in the way that we had. never fear though, i reassured them that we wouldn’t need 5 minutes, it would only take 2.

feeling like a naughty school child, i returned all of the items and hung my head as i walked through reception - only to be told by one of “the men in black suits” that they found it hillarious but were being watched by management… jobsworths! all incredibly amusing though.

anyway, hen party over, i’ll go back to polishing my halo

dear lord - please someone get me a jock strap and let’s just get it over and done with - i’ve finally given into the the persuasion that i must be a man. i’ve obviously been kidding myself and everyone else must be right. after all, it says it on facebook so it must be true!

why doesn’t anyone believe i’m a girl?

i like pink, i wear skirts, i carry lipgloss with me at all times, i get soppy over kittens, have a passion for shoes, can shop for over 12 hours and yet people still aren’t convinced… what more can i do??

today i had an email sent to me asking a question that had been forwarded by someone else. as i was reading through it - my jaw dropped… i quote:-

“The Event Manager is called Mel Kirk (female)”

now correct me if i’m being stupid, but at what point did it even become a possibility that i was a man? how long is it going to be until people introduce me as mel, the girl that everyone thinks is a guy? it’s distressing i tell you… i really have developed a complex.

this complex wasn’t helped when as part of a poor attempt at a chat up line - a guy in a bar told me i had big hands. incredibly hurt by this random observation, if i’m honest, it’s still playing on my mind (my dad was 6′4″ - please can we move on?), it left me doubting my femininity.

the next day, i was hanging laundry out in my back garden when the guy upstairs leans out and shouts “blimey mel, you’ve got big feet” - now to have something like that come from a friend would be bad enough, but a neighbour who has leaned out with the sole intention of telling me i have big feet is never going to be appreciated.

i’ve been broken i tell you - it’s going to take a lot of retail therapy to recover from this mass attack.

on that note, i’m going to drag my man hands, male name and big feet off to a corner and cry like a girl, i mean a boy, a girl - oh i don’t know!?!

p.s. let’s hope i never have kids - those hands of mine would be lethal!
x