Monthly Archive

reasons…

1. i don’t tell people that it’s totally inappropriate for them to help themselves to my food when not invited and when i don’t know them - instead i curse them underneath my breath

2. i talk to people that i don’t know out of politeness often leading to them getting the wrong impression

3. i tell people that “of course i’d like to come back to meet you” when i have no intention of going back, but i don’t want to hurt their feelings (at least not face to face anyway)

4. i hide in the local deli, surrounded by huge menus in the hope that i don’t get spotted hiding

5. i jump in the nearest cab, even though i don’t want to go home yet, because that option seems better than going along with number 3

so i got back to my hotel today to find a letter underneath my door warning of “extreme weather conditions” - i know, i attract bad luck. having spoken to the people on the front desk, they advised me to stay indoors. which i managed, for the whole of 2 hours. then i got itchy feet (no not athletes foot) and had to head out to look for some more party venues. well i wish i hadn’t.

as i crossed the street with a flick of the hair to try and appear cool, i entered this uber cool bar and perched myself at the end of the bar. whilst waiting to get served, the man next to me started talking about the “imminent hurricane” and what went from keeping myself to myself ended up with him switching seats to sit next to me.

after talking to the catering manager for a while, she sent out some complimentary hor’deurves. the prospect of free food was very exciting for the whole of two seconds, when i glanced down to find my new “friend” helping himself. this did not go down well i can tell you and was not made any better by him telling me his wife allowed him to have an open relationship. at that stage, all hunger was lost anyway. i handed the catering manager my business card only to find him taking it from her and putting it in his pocket before telling me “i should give the nice lady one of her own” - hello!!!!

i looked around, trying to find the closest escape route, only to find the heaviest downpour i’ve quite possibly ever seen - there was no escaping for me. as soon as the rain became rain and not lethal blades of water, i made me excuses to leave… only to have him ask me to come back and meet him in an hour. how do you tell someone to their face that you’d rather eat your eyebrows than spend any more time talking to them? so i did the most wimply thing and agreed before scurrying out of the door, into the nearest deli and hiding behind a pile of menus…

i’ll never go to heaven!

p.s. he was also a biological scientist which kind of scared me a little. i’m not sure why

update - sugar lumps - he has my business card, what if he googles me??? not only did i not turn up - i then blogged about it. i’m such a bad person!

p.p.s. hiding in diners is not good for my waistline!

ok, so life’s complicated and traumatic enough under normal circumstances as you can probably tell. now consider that I’ve had to travel to Miami on my own - do you think that’s going to improve matters at all? no thought not!

i was doing quite well, had managed to get to the airport on time, caught the plane to the right city and things were looking quite positive, there was a chance i was starting to look like a responsible adult. i spoke too soon. as i got to customs, they grilled me within an inch of my life - apparently a bag of my size was not the norm for someone staying only 4 nights. a thorough search of my bag later, they sent me on my way having advised me to see someone about my shoe addiction. thanks.

relieved to finally be getting out of the airport, i went on hunt for the elusive car hire desk only to find a sign instructing me that the desk was unmanned (i kind of gathered that when i saw no one there) and i should head to the bus. wait a second. i thought i was getting a car, not a bus. serious confusion does not start to explain my state of mind at this stage.

having run across 2 lanes of cars with seriously grouchy drivers with my mammoth bag, i found a “car hire bus” and climbed on board with no idea as to where i was headed or what was going on, but it appeared to be free and it moved, both of which were positive features at this stage.

a 20 (yes 20!) minute drive later, the bus fnally pulled up to the car hire depot in what appeared to be the middle of nowhere and kicked me out (almost quite literally). glad that i could actually see hire cars, i went inside, probably a little more excitable that required (i assume this given the look that the counter assistant gave me. turns out they “lost my booking” and the only available care that they had was considerably more expensive than what i had previously been quoted. flustered and jet lagged, i signed the agreement and made my way out to their smallest car (which turned out to be the size of a small truck).

sugar lumps. it was automatic. i had never driven an automatic before.

baffled by the fact the car had been left without the handbreak on (i know… i told you i’d never driven an automatic) and trying to get the bite point using the accelerator and break (well i’m used to having a clutch) i finally started to kangaroo my way out of the carpark.

things were going well until i got to the exit, where i actually had to stop the car. without going into that in too much detail - the attendant proceeded to call out all of her colleagues (5 to be precise) to wish me luck at driving in miami). how kind.

a 90 minute, 6 mile drive (turns out the sat nav wasn’t all that clear) later, i finally pulled up at the hotel to find the extortionate parking rates were not those that had previously been provided to me. tired and exasperated, i locked up and headed in. after a night of broken sleep, worrying about the hire car costs, i got up at dawn to put in a call to the car hire company, explaining that i had injured my leg and wouldn’t be requiring the car for the rest of my trip and i was very sorry for any inconvenience (i was thinking on my feet, cut me some slack). before you know it, i was back on the road and so the trauma continued….

over and out from miami. i’m alive. things aren’t that bad.

p.s. when you apply sun cream, be sure to apply it evenly otherwise you end up with strange red patches, as i learned. that is all. happy sunday!

p.p.s this was my not so little hire car, otherwise known as a truck!

so yesterday was the night of the “carsonified beers” or “carsonified rose” in my case. To mark the occasion, i decided to make a special effort and bring a change of outfit with me to head out in. now that might not seem a big deal, but trust me, when you’re used to going out in work clothes, it really is.

i came prepared with a laptop bag stuffed with all kinds of goodies - hair straightners, moisturiser, a new top, and, well, things. as usual i was running late and stuffed a packet of wheetabix in my bag to consume at the office. i arrived at the office, a little flustered and hungry and decided to unpack my wheetabix, yum… as i looked down, i could see that my bag had been so tightly stuffed with “things” that it had burst open and my wheetabix were missing! trauma! i decided to investigate, to find to my horror that it wasn’t just the wheetabix that were missing, it was in actual fact half of my belongings. this was a real issue.

without further a do, i decided to re-trace my steps (they don’t call me inspectoress mel for nothing) to relocate my precious belongings. i stepped out onto the street and could see a few meters up the street was my hairbrush… having walked right to the top of the street, recovered my hairbrush, my serum, moisturiser and touche eclait (sleep in a tube i tell you, sleep in a tube!) i looked up to find to my horror that my underwear was scattered amongst the fallen autumn leaves.

now this isn’t a quiet street i’m talking about here - it’s one of the main roads into bath and has a significant number of cars on the road at all times. so i was faced with the dilemma - to leave it there and deny all knowledge (but let other people see my smalls) or to reclaim it and let the world know that the smalls belonged to me!?! a 20 minute wait allowed the traffic to clear and for me to grab and run… i’m still not over the trauma now and i certainly won’t ever be wearing those smalls again, that’s for sure.

note to self - use laptop bag to carry laptop only, don’t try to squeeze in “essentials” as well! please be warned…

p.s. this could have been the outcome of people coming across my not so small smalls

me: omg, i’m in the coffee shop sat next to someone famous

her: who is it?

me: i have no idea, i can’t put a name to the face

her: what does he look like?

me: plump, greying with a goatie

her: i wish that i was in bath so that i could see him. it’s not richard branson is it?

me: no… now he’s talking to me, he’s gross… completely letchy - just made a comment about my stringy cheese sandwich!

me: to make matters worse he’s just showed me his iphone as if it’s a key to the magic kingdom and is talking to me about third party apps

her: what?

me: he asked with me being a girl how i knew stuff about technology

her: the cheek!

me: ew, now he’s discussing sex addictions with the guy next to him… that’s it, i think i need to leave and have a shower

later that night, have scoured several celebrity sites in the hope of seeing a face i recognised, i twittered that i was going to bed - only to see a twitter by someone else mentioning steph3n fry. that was it. that was who it was.

not very exciting i know - but that was enough to entertain me for the day! what still puzzles me is why he came across as letchy though because i thought he was gay :/

*yes know it should be an e and not a 3, but he’s tech savvy so probably has rss searches for his name and whilst i’ve been rude about him, i didn’t want to be rude directly

so my company are being lovely and replacing my decrepit ibook with a new shiney macbook pro. this did mean though that for the whole of last night, i was left without the interweb…. try and contain yourself, i know you feel my pain.

i didn’t realise quite how bad things were though until this morning, when taking a shower i realised that i had run out of conditioner and had to hop out of the shower, into the cold and run along the hall to grab another for the cupboard*

the realisation of how bad my twitter addiction had become came when sprinting back along the hall, i thought “i should twitter this, damn i can’t”…. at what point did i stop thinking things in my head and have the need to tell the whole world?

damn, i’m doing it again!

* yes, i realise that i should consider keeping my spare stash somewhere closer, like the bathroom for instance!

now i know that people often joke that women are bad drivers, but i’m afraid it’s just not true. people may argue that i’m not the best driver, in fact i’ve heard it been said that i shouldn’t be allowed on the road - but i think that’s totally unfair. i’m a good driver. honest.

proof

i believe that the proof lies in the pudding or the parking in this case. to prove that i know my car well, look at the perfect bit of parking that i did below. many would say it was a close shave, but i know that it was just very well executed…

balanced argument

now of course i’m going to be biased and others might not have such faith in my driving abilities so i thought it fair that i portray a fair image by letting you in on some not such clever driving antics…

only last week what should have been a 20 minute journey turned into an 80 minute journey because i got onto the motorway going the wrong way. it was a slight act of blondeness i’ll admit, but it doesn’t make me a bad driver?

so here was the original route…

and my actual route…

now i hear what you’re saying - when i realised that i was heading in the wrong direction, why didn’t i try and get off of the motorway sooner. now that’s where my plan fell apart slightly. my left indictor doesn’t work at the moment. there was a policeman behind me. it’s illegal to drive without indicators. so i therefore couldn’t turn left until he had turned off. nightmare. made worse only by the fact that my petrol tank was completely empty and i had to breath in the whole way to try and make myself lighter. does that even work?

so i suppose what i’m trying to say is that i am a good driver, but thank goodness for sat nav!

happy monday! x

p.s. on a completely separate note, i had an email today with the title “dear sir”. have they not read any of my blog posts? do they not know that i spend my whole time ranting about my sexual identity? apparently not… i’m a girl i tell you, a girl!

i walked into my apartment yesterday to find that the light had gone. without freaking out, complaining or calling for someone to help, i automatically went to the cupboard pulled out a new lightbulb and got straight to work at changing it. this got me to thinking how much things have changed over the last 6 months. so here’s a few of the things i can do now:-

• lift heavy things
• show you where my tool case is (yes, i now have tools)
• hang a painting
• put together a bed
• check the water and oil on my car (although i don’t know how to do anything about it)

so now not only do i have a masculine name apparently, i also have manly skills. where did i leave that car jack?

after what feels like months of not having a life and turning into a working machine, i’m back - hoorah! not just back but back in full randomness you’ll be pleased to hear… so please don’t expect any direction or sense from this post - i’m still slightly delerious!

i’ve got this week off to chill, sleep and chill some more - although it appears that the magnet inside my mac is stronger than ever and it seems to pull me back at the soonest possible opportunity. i’m gradually going to have to wean myself off of it - good lord, when did i become such a geek? you see when you host a web conference, it becomes acceptable for your inner geek to be released, in fact being a girl geek is almost respected. but now, i’m back to reality where to most of my friends the internet = facebook, so i’m doing my best to cover the geekiness and fit back into society, not to huge avail at the moment, it should be said.

i decided to try and assist the process by buying trashy magazines, bringing everything that i could possibly need for the next 24 hours to my room so that i don’t have to get out of bed (although that doesn’t include a commode - that would just be weird) and wearing the comfiest slippers in the world.

i say that i’m planning to stay in bed for the next 24 hours as i don’t want people to see the egg bump on my head. in full mel fashion yesterday, i managed to add yet more drama to my ever traumatic life… this is kind of how it went:-

* picked up razor to de-forest legs (nice i know, i’ve been busy - give me a break)

* dropped razor

* tried to catch razor

* slashed open finger

* blood squirted everywhere (enhanced by the running water)

* wake up cold in the bath having passed out

why oh why am i such a baby??? so now, i’m going to sit here, hiding my egg from the world and read about mothers who divorced their children who married their fathers, who were secretly their cousins and had 11 children - got to love the british mags!

oooh and on a separate note, i’ve had feedback that you’d like another video update, so if i can think of something interesting to say and find a hair style that covers my egg, you might want to watch this space…

over and out from your ever random friend xox