Hip Hop Grew Up

I wasn’t a brainiac, I never lived in any kind of ghetto, I wasn’t sporty, I was a tomboy, I had bad hair and embarrassing teeth, I listened to hip hop from America and rode horses.

That pretty much sums me up as the universal no-fit kid. I went to a private girl’s school where we tied our hair back, walked in single file down the halls, polished our shoes and our P’s and Q’s and knowing boys, even at 15 was taboo. If the other kids thought you had money, it didn’t matter they usually had more. If they thought you didn’t, low and behold the bullies.

Then came Watford, where all the elegantly polished vocabulary in the world wouldn’t help you. They took it upon themselves at college to ask me almost daily if ‘Jeeves The Butler’ did it, as in washed my clothes, drove me home and bowed when I walked past. My lovely words fell to the floor, I was the no-fit girl again and my accent got mangled. These days people don’t know where I came from but they sense someone taught me to be very polite and lady like, but they’re not quite sure when I’m holding my ground fiercely with another American millionaire mogul, but they still manage to take one sniff while I’m sitting trying not to hold my breath in a room full of American rappers who smoke weed and sense I’ve never lived a day in a council estate.

Now, approaching my first quarter century it doesn’t matter where I’m from, or that I’m working-middle class. People seem to be at ease and even like the fact that I can float from hip hop to the corporate board room in the same day in a dress fit for Park Avenue. I no longer feel like a two piece Rocawear outfit will make me more comfortable to those in hip hop, they take me as I am, middle class and open minded.

Hip hop has grown, haven’t we? I know within I’m the same girl that used to play Tupac in my Walkman on the bus to college. My threads now just reflect who I have grown into, a young entertainment industry business woman who can rock the world in 4 inches and pearls.

Hello? About that Match Making Thing?

The next day I was sitting down in the garden, laptop quietly shut away upstairs, book in one hand and the blackberry about 5 inches away from me.

I eyed it suspiciously. Picked it up and dialled.

'Hello, yes its me.'

'Mel's what time is it?' Said my clearly relaxed MTV bod.

I looked at the time 'Er...just before 7pm.'

'Exactly, so put the crackberry away, even turn it off and enjoy your friday evening!'

'Oh. Well listen, I've decided I'm going to let you set me up, but it has to be a double date and you have to be there, no weirdos.'

'You've decided to let me set you up with one of my mates? How kind of you Mels.'

Alright mister sarcasm...I think he might have had a tipple already, he sounded very cheery. Or he was just tickled that I'd allow him to set me up. Oh dear, i fear I shall never hear the end of it now.

Love me, Love My Crackberry

I was have having a regular business and social call with a friend at MTV when he asked if I was going out that night, to which I replied apart from the food poisoning I had too much work to do, proposal after proposal and organising a massive event.

He replied 'Mels do you have a boyfriend? Come on you have to go out.' I gave him some sarcastic remark and he said 'Really Mel, its not good that I bet the last thing you see at night is your crackberry and the first thing when you open your eyes is the crackberry, let me set you up I'm a great match maker.'

I guffawed and blushed and told him to fob off. So graceful and witty of me.

He said it wasn't healthy, I said 'Right sure, and when I'm off totally distracted with a new boyfriend who's running my company?? When I'm at dinner and my blackberry goes off cos I'm trying to close a deal, what's he going to do? Honestly, don't mock the device. Love me, love my crackberry.'

He went on a bit more about his lovely friends and how it would be good for me, how i dont get out enough and I got all flustered said 'No way!' and announced i was hanging up.

Sorry Diddy, I Stole Your Stylist…

It seems the only way I was going to find the illusive perfect fit pair of jeans was by taking some drastic action. Two years of searching in the UK and America just about takes the biscuit and all the patience I had, so when by chance I was re-introduced to Diddy’s stylist during a brunch meeting in the Upper East Side last weekend, some serious action had to be taken, there was only one thing for it...

Kidnap him!

Having said goodbye to the meeting, I bundled him into a taxi downtown to SoHo.

Alright, so there was no kidnap involved, I made a friendly joke that if he’s such a ‘hot’ stylist to the stars then he should be able to do the impossible and find me jeans that fit because I've been looking for so long. I had a long jacket on and he went sure ‘Little waist, bubble butt. Kinda like Jessica Alba.’

Well, not quite. Compliment appreciated none-the-less.

‘I had to hook her up on a movie she did, so I’ll fix you up. Let’s go to Atrium on Broadway.’

Eeeeeeeek. Atrium??? I’m sure nothing in that store retails for less than $300. Oh help, is he actually mistaking my Primark and Zara for Prada???

As we sashayed into the uber-hip and trendy store downtown my wallet practically seized up and passed out, beautiful clothes I didn’t dare to touch. But, oh...off he goes touching things...uh-oh...

Oh! He went right to the denim sale rack - $99 and up. My kinda man! He threw 3 divine designer pairs at me without asking my size, when I squeaked that my waists probably not the size he thinks it is he smiled kindly and ushered me into the changing rooms and waited patiently at a distance outside.

I was suddenly attacked by an awkward feeling of being rather embarrassed, so when I sheepishly poked my head out of the curtain and whispered ‘My backside looks flat in these, they don’t work’, he kindly whipped the curtain aside and said ‘Spin around.’

Oh gawd. Mind you after the third pair didn’t fit I started to lighten up, and started to tease him that he wasn’t going to manage to find me anything. Between finding himself a super cool pair of shades and chatting with the assistants who seemed to fall over to help him, he plucked a pair of True Religion jeans off the shelf and asked if I’d tried them? No, so go try them. I marched back to the changing rooms with a sigh.

I looked at the size, yeah that’s not likely to even come up over my thighs. Well alright so they do, but they won’t button up. Oh my...

He did it they fit perfectly!!

I called him over and he smiled subtly and smugly, gave me a wink and hopped back to browsing the store.

Yeah, alright Diddy I’ll admit it...he’s the shiznit, he’s my new denim god (especially with the 20% Atrium discount card – I love!). Diddy you're a grown man, you can share right?? We'll have to work on that...

Did You Hear The One About....

...Me, Hulk Hogan and Scott Storch in a lift?

Unlikely combination, a bit of a stretch of the imagination, but I kid you not. I was hurry-hurrying to my Sony meeting, dashed into the lift and held the doors for a bunch of people also hurrying along. I must of been feeling nice, I normally jab the 'Door Close' button when people yell 'hold the elevator' and pretend I cant hear them just for fun.

This motley bunch of oddities that crowded around me were the strangest looking group, peroxide blonde Brooke Hogan wannabe daughter of Hulk, Hulk of course, entourage of throwback 80's looking hangers on and then the extremely odd sight of Scott Storch the almost swedish looking blonde guy, millionaire producer and hit maker to all the hard boys of hip hop...and there he was, in on this Brooke Hogan project clearly....but seriously, Brooke Hogan?? Whats next...Paris Hilton??!

Oh yeah, sorry. He did that!

Is he the gimmick boy of the world right now or what? Wonder if that was a suitcase full of Hulks moula that he was carrying in his Louis Vuitton briefcase. If he could have diamond encrusted the case he would have done, just like he did with his neck, his wrist, his pinky finger...

Needless to say this bunch of weirdos managed to pee me off entirely, could you get this lot through Sky Lobby security at Sony after we got out of the lift?? No....made me nearly 15 minutes late for my meeting. Don't make me late, or the crazy woman will be set loose.

I'm quite impressed with myself, i left my Sony meeting on 55th and Madison and high tailed it to 52nd and Seventh in 3 inch heels in ten minutes flat for my next meeting, thats like 6 normally painful blocks. Well done me, I'm cracking the working in heels thing. POWER WOMAN!!!

Perhaps the Vitamin C is making me hyper...electrolytes or something?? Hmmm, its my crack right now.

2000 CC Vitamin C Intravenous Please

1000 miligram vitamin C sachets are the best invention ever, take two and you can wave ta-ta to the sniffles, they might even give you a slightly weird ability to do things double time that you can't do when your cold has hit your head so bad....wait, maybe that's the sinus/cold and flu pills...

Hmmm anyway, I made it through a 5 meeting day with the help of one or all of the above remedies and am now sitting comtemplating a few agreements, proposals and one sheet info docs I have to finish yesterday. There might even be another meeting tonight, the 'we're-running-out-of-time-before-we-fly-out-lets-try-and-meet-at-10.30pm-sure!' type of meeting. Oh well, no rest for the what? Yeah you got it.

Grind On! Sneeze...and fall over

I've caught a pesky cold, just when I dont have time for/can't bear the sniffles. Theres nothing worse than having a limited amount of time in such a wonderful city as New York and having that time and those meetings punctuated with nose blowing and such associated grossness.

I blame the airplane's circulated germs myself, horrid.

So the sun is out, yesterdays weather was mindblowing, something close to 70 degrees during the day, all you needed was a t-shirt and a smile. Then i came out of the Lupe Fiasco listening session at Atlantic Records at 8.30pm to find it dark and pouring with ran, there was I with good hair and no umbrella and needing to dash to 25th and broadway. Yuck, needless to say we skipped the Donald Trump class at the Hilton, I had to stay on the grind in my own way, though I'm sure whatever he said would have been educating.

I got rained on, had a meeting and then ran uptown to deepest Harlem to have a very interesting tete-a-tete with someone I'm looking forward to working with for Europe.

Came home just before midnight and attempted to write a proposal and failed, I nodded off in bed snuggled up to the lap top. Which is where I've been for the past 3 hours today - in front of the computer carrying on the never ending work for New York and the UK. Things do not stop just because I'm out of town, they still move at the speed of light. So we grind on, and on.

Now where's that cold and flu tablet I needed???

New York Live & Direct

I landed back in the great New York on sunday and hit the ground running. My roomie here, his girlfriend and his room mate and I all went for East Village authentic Japanese brunch, yummy!

I was about ready to sleep, but managed to whip enough energy up for a stroll down to Canal St and back, oh yes there were souvenirs...

Chilled for a little bit back at Kevin's GORGEOUS Lower East Side duplex (it's properly like a home!) and then my best english Brit-in-NYC Ally called, it was her birthday, so i jumped at the chance to join her at a charming Italian in the West Village for a bday dinner with her girls. It was only after we all got up and went outside to go home that I noticed just how fabulous NYC women are with their shoes. I was dazzled by their stunning footwear, puts most English women to shame, even me - I didn't think to put my pretty shoes on, must have been the jetlag that caught me, else I'd never slip like that!!

It was pretty grey and misty yesterday, the sun's broken today and hopefully the rain will stay away - it's not good for the hair or the shoes.

I saw the old NY boss yesterday, that was cool and I've had some superb meetings for the UK Hip Hop Summit that I've co-founded, it's all set for July and there is massive American interest so i'm thrilled about that.

My wonder girl from Hot 97 is taking me with her to a Lupe Fiasco thing at Atlantic Records tonight and then I'm dashing over to the Hilton hotel to take a class with Donald Trump. I kid you not.

Femme Finesse

I asked a well established female entrepreneur friend of mine today if she ever experienced hate specifically from men? I say this with a smile as it's something I've been experiencing quite a bit in the last couple of weeks, mostly from older established men in various industries...

Suddenly these intelligent, grown men will come out with ridiculous things to try and top your actions or words, that's when I start to realise how insecure men can be.

As if being young, reasonably intelligent and getting somewhere is such a threat to them...

Curious....I'm used to the female hate – but after all, the haters tell me I'm obviously doing something right, bring it on I say and I shall continue to ignore it!

You're Not Invited to My Wedding....

Yes, that's right you're NOT invited to my wedding, because I'm not having one. Least not for a few years...

If you fell victim to my prankster nature then you got my email this week aptly titled 'Mel Wedding Invitation'. My good friend in LA did it to me, so don't worry he got me royally, about as good as I got you!!

The email procedes to detail that I'm in love, that my engagement was this month and the wedding is in 17 days, that i'm sure its a shock but hey - love happens! The details and venue are all on the attachment...

EXCEPT the attachment states: "YOU HAVE BEEN FOOLED!! 17 days from now is April 1st!"

The jokes this have given me over the past 24 hours are priceless, especially from the stunned mates who haven't yet got to the attachment (update your crackberry model please!) and call me all shocked and flustered, to my utter glee!!

Then there are the 'I HATE you...payback is a bitch girl!!' and the 'I actually shed a tear for you, how could you?!' and my favourite "I was so looking forward to buying a dress...darn you." I want to hug her for that last one, bless.

Also curious to me is some fellas reactions, really...I never knew. Enlightening and delightful to the esteem :)

So onwards and upwards, now we know there are no nuptuals to speak of....and so it seems my little heart will live to flutter another day and I can put my large amount of insecurity back on the shelf where it belongs...yes the Boogie down boy called and sent me flying over the moon at the sheer fact that he definitely will be coming out to little old London.

Terrific. All is not wrong in the world, except maybe my pranks.

Talk about vintage wonders...

Oooh girls I've got a gem for you....vintage Christian Dior, Louis and all those glorious good things from their heydays...check out this japanese ebay store

Nina's

I'm about to scoop myself a vintage Dior clutch...ooh heaven!!

"..My Mouth Piece Simply Symbolizes Success..."

"...Open up my mouth and you see more carrots than a salad range.." - Paul Wall from the track 'Grillz'

Grills...aka diamond or gold mouth piece, normally slotted into top or bottom teeth - or both - like a retainer brace; commonly used by Southerners and rappers as a new way to wear their jewellery and flaunt their gross disposable income.

Salivating on diamonds, hmmm nice.

I once dated a guy from the deep south who wore a grill, a gold and diamond grill. We went to dinner, he politely took the grill out and carefully wrapped it in a napkin while he ate, we were onto desert when he looked anxiously at the table....

Napkin gone, waitress cleaned table...

Grill GONE.

Yeah and the kitchen staff so don't get paid enough to search the trash for us, to his dismay.

"my grill...damn you don't know how much that cost, oh man...." He sighed.

I may not, but I do know it looked quite silly, but that's just my opinion. I smiled kindly at the waitress on our way out.....knowing I didn't have to spend the rest of my evening looking at a Goldie/sparkly Terminator hybrid.

A Sudden Fall...into Silence

Just as I was thinking that perhaps it was all going to come together, that my old Bronx sweetheart was actually going to fly out of America for the first time to come see me, that work was picking up and I myself would head out to New York again within a few weeks...all is not as it seems.

Could he have been inebriated when he sent me the message declaring that since I can’t be there and he’s been thinking about it, he’ll fly to me? This week has been a text-less one, though I’ve sent three to him and could probably smack myself right now for becoming that over eager girl, he hasn’t replied to one of them, and when I called (shut up, I can’t be clever and aloof all the time) it rang through to voicemail and I didn’t really know what to say, so my bumbling warbling message was daft and pointless.

Sigh...

Part of being a control freak is that I wish other people would follow through on their words or actions, I’m learning to lessen my grip and let it lie if it seems their intentions don’t match their true feelings. I wonder what if he knows what his true intentions are?

They Call It a Me-Me

I saw this on someone's blog, calling it a meme (me!me!) now you-you have to add it to yours!


4 jobs I’ve had

1. special event coordinator, Urban Music Seminar - London


2. brand management, Johnny Nunez Photography - New York
3. tv interviewer/Journalist - CD:UK, London
4. stablehand, Loudwater Stables, England

4 DVDs I can keep watching

1. Brown Sugar


2. city of angels
3. crash
4. out of sight


4 places I wish I had [or intend to] live[d]

1. paris, france
2. santa monica, CA


3. miami, FL
4. spain, somewhere on the southern coast

4 TV shows I watch

1. CSI (all of them)
2. Super Nanny
3. West Wing
4. Judge John Deed

4 places I’ve traveled

1. Maldives, Indian Ocean


2. Cannes, France


3. Santa Monica, CA
4. Sardinia

4 websites I visit daily

1. Google
2. myspace.com
3. blackberry email
4. allhiphop.com

4 foods I love

1. preaw wan at mangosteen, ganton st london (off carnaby st)
2. chocolate cup cakes from little pie company 43rd st & 9th ave, NY


3. mum's spagetti bolognaise - i fly thousands of miles for it
4. nando's portugese chicken chain, anywhere in the uk


4 early musical influences

1. jazzy jeff and the fresh prince


2. bryan adams
3. babyface
4. tupac (not enough room to put luther vandross and anything motown?!!)


4 bloggers I’m nudging

1. gurj
2. fish
3. naked cartwheels by danyel
4. d-nice

I Sympathise...

Oh D-Nice just got hated on for what one reader of his blogs calls 'name dropping', utter nonsense if you ask me. D-Nice and many of us live in a world where we do often come by and interact with celebrity individuals, who at the end of the day can be quite normal and easy to work or converse with. It adds to the great experiences in our lives that we happen upon these types of people, why wouldn't we want to share it if it made our day?

Now name dropping is when you go..."P.Diddy is sooo my best friend, yeah he called me the other night, he wanted his dance moves back..."

Ok, ok, i jest...but leave D-Nice to blog in peace, sometimes us entertainment industry folk make our living by working with aforementioned types of people and its ok by us. Occassionally i do censor my blog content and the names in it because i don't want to seem like a name dropper, but its just what happens in a different day in my world sometimes, it doesnt make me cocky or arrogant or name dropping just because their names come up, but i think about it when i probably shouldn't worry about what other people think.

As D-Nice said, you obviously aren't reading his blog for the right reasons are you? So blog off.

Blog Down & Dirty

I let out a little giggle when I heard this, but Chris Lighty the uber-super hip hop manager of this era...well kinda...has got himself a blog. A Blog!

It’s only amusing because though I'm sure he has a blackberry which he sticks to like I stick to mine (might I suggest he falls asleep holding a beautiful woman, unlike my knack of hugging a crackberry to sleep) I just can’t picture him, a grown ass man sitting pouring out his thoughts over a computer. What’s next? He’ll be confessing that 50 Cent really is a big cuddly bear over hot coco...

Sarcasm aside, after all I have a blog I can’t say jack...he has put some interesting thoughts down there in cyber journal land, the latest post he addresses is about violence in hip hop which at the moment myself and some of my industry friends here have been discussing of late. He might be a good candidate to come and do a little seminar in the UK on his next trip, ooh now there’s a good idea. Oi! It was my idea first...

When I wake up and read the papers, sometimes I feel like London is reversing from safe-little-London to cracked and crimed out pre-Giuliani New York. I probably spelt the old Mayor’s name wrong and I’m too tired to google it, forgive me.

I do remember that the first black mayor of New York David Dinkins turned to me at an event in and politely conversed for a moment or two, delightful old soul and yet I was absolutely oblivious to who he was. It was only when the company intern who was standing beside me said ‘It’s not everyday a mayor talks to you’, that I stared blankly back at him, looked at the old soul slowly walking away and I dared to ask who he was.

The intern who never seemed to have many words for me, including on this occasion gave me a look of total distaste. What?! I’m British, am I meant to know?? Still I was honoured...if I had known there was much I would of said and asked.

Anyway what happened to zero tolerance in our great city of London? Crime’s up, guns and knives are way too common, someone even came back with a vendetta and shot the security guard who chucked his ticketless backside out of a Kanye West concert in middle England. It’s all gone to pot, pun intended...

So check him out, Chris Lighty in all his blogging glory www.chrislighty.com with thanks to the stupendous D-Nice who got Lighty into blog land, and who also provides eargasms to hundreds of people every week via his wicked DJ-ing ways – I’ve had the pleasure on many Manhattan occasions.

Fashionista Me? No Chance...

I got into a super-flustered-flap this week as I was scurrying around my room trying to get ready for a meeting. Hair done, nails done, make-up perfect, clothes...clothes?

I came to a screeching halt. My wardrobe confronted me, minimal, dull and decidedly less than designer chic. On this particular day, for this particular meeting I was truly thrown because my scheduled appointment on behalf of one of my clients was with the Fashion kind, the type that work with Alexander McQueen, Sai-So and Evisu and spend their darling days tracking the designer world's every whisper, cut of chiffon and style.

Gasp...I’m hardly Prada, more like Primark...will their high-end fashionista eyes cut my Topshop trousers and East Village sweater to pieces in a second? I closed my wardrobe and tried to find confidence in what I was wearing, or rather in wearing what I was wearing.

One of my largest obstacles is that I’m not built to shop like an ever-ready-battery-operated-woman. I just can’t bear the monotony of trapsing around and trying on over and over again, plus I need to get my eyes fixed because all those racks and rails and colours start to make my eyes boggle after a very short amount of time, I’m sure I wouldn’t have the same problem in Armani, Chanel or Gucci with their clutter free stores where you can barely see the clothes for the floor space, unlike Topshop.

The odds are stacking against me though, it seems as though I am being forced towards shopping – imagine my horror that nothing I own seems to fit me now that fit me before for a reason that escaped me until a trainer friend of mine suggested I take my measurements to keep track of my body shape as I head into more exercise (sweating, and getting fit – I know, I’m as shocked as you are). I wrapped a tape measure around my necessary bits and reeled off the figures, which ultimately didn’t mean much to me until I wandered past the jeans section a few days later and decided that the size 10 legs looked enormous, but the size 8 behind it might fit my legs but I’ve never get them over my little apple bum...

As I’m pulling the size 8’s on I’m thinking to myself that it looks as though the legs would be a good fit, shame I’ll never mange to...pull them over my thighs...wait...and my backside!!!!

Are you kidding me? With a smaller pair of jeans hugging my legs and my bum, I’d even managed to button them up without sucking myself in by two sizes. It’s a miracle! Ah, now I know why nothing fits...I am a size 8 up and down and I grinned as I proceeded to do a little happy dance in the changing room for the next five minutes.

Crazy Woman and Her Cats (with Blackberry)

My kittens are creeping into my blogs, I was just filled with a gasp-dread-uh-oh feeling that I am going to end up like those crazy women and their cats, no husband (maybe the felines ate him), no children, just my cats...

Nooo...Noooooooooooooooooooooo!!!

At this point if I had a waxwork done of me, I'd be standing there laptop close to my chest in one hand, blackberry on my ear in the other and cats by my feet.

For the past three mornings I've woken up and reached for my blackberry to shut off the alarm only to find its not on my bedside table, but it's beeping somewhere close by....not on the floor....then I lift the duvet and poke my head under...the little red flasher is beaming at me from under the covers. I'd only bloody fallen asleep with the thing in my hand waiting for a message....

And I wondered why my family took the p*ss enough to paint a blackberry on my birthday cake and rib me rotten about my gadget.

It's getting a bit tragic!!

Farting Kittens, Cheating Men & Mercedez Benz

To steal a good phrase from my mate Gurj, I've lost my blogging mojo lately so I have been either super boring with my posts, or there just haven't been any.

Something to do with having to still aclimatise to the UK again, I don't know why its such a bloody culture shock coming from New York, it is my home after all, but it seems like just as i was getting used to the rip-roaring excitement and steady two step of the Apple...back came England with it's little roads, small buildings, slow business, opinionated small minds and a distinct lack of blackberries.

Come on, no blackberry?? And what...you actually clock off on the stroke of 5pm?? One of my dear friends who's forward and fully in with the blackberry revolution in London said to me the other day 'Sorry about not getting back to your email over the weekend, I switch my blackberry off at night and on weekends.'

*GAAAAAAAAAAAASP* what the.......??? Yes, he was serious.

I'm back in medieval times, help me....

There's time for smiles and high fives now, as I've sorted my shiznit out and am Director of my own future aka Melian Enterprises now. Its like a year after I announced my own company, but hey I was superbly distracted and whisked away on a whim by New York. What's a girl to do? Sample life, or ignore the calling? Yeah that's what I thought. I took a rollocking good bite out of it, thank you very much.

With the sheer squeeling excitement of this new role comes the humdrum details, i never realised how much there is to do...logo redesign, reprint bizness cards, find a website designer, sort out the web content, find an accountant....oh and work out what the feck it is that I do.

What do I do...figured that out, so check. You'll see soon enough with the good old webby, unless you are too eager and want to know - email me.

I've been working my backside off for a client who's New York based with rather alot of operations going on, I'm handling this side of the pond and it's jolly good fun, but definitely pleasantly exhaustive work.

With the time difference I feel as though I never left New York, I'm 5 hours ahead so of an evening you'll often find me crawling home from dinner and wine with the girls, but not to crawl into bed and sleep, but instead i drag myself to my desk for an 11pm conference call...these days I'm normally not asleep before 2.30am much to my kittens dismay, as they try and convince me that even our furry friends would like an early night by yawning ever so cutely from the end of my bed.

The other night it was 1.02am I was on the phone with my client, he mentioned the time difference and I mumbled the time. His reply 'Oh so you're just getting ready to go out then!'

I knew I'd forgotten something.....

A social life.

Oh bugger....

So yes to the title....my kittens have flatulence problems, normally at entirely inappropriate moments - ie while im hugging them, or as a guest sits down in the house, or when I'm trying to sleep. It's quite over powering, you have no idea.

The middle bit I won't even comment on, thank fully this time it does not relate to me, but has been a topic of conversation and debate amongst my girl friends and family. I'd like to congratulate my brother for proving there are good, great, wonderful men like him out there...he just proposed to his girlfriend and I'm over the moon, we all treat the new inlaw like family anyway. Now hurry up and make me an auntie, I don't plan on having my own children to puke over me just yet, so yours will do nicely for now.

Wheels, I have wheels....oh it feels so good, I wasn't even confused - i managed to stay on the English side of the road after so long in America. I was in the habit of getting into the drivers seat alot....of my mates cars, by mistake.

Oh gawd, I have to light a match, the kittens done it again......

Furry Friends

As I logged on to blog, thinking about what I was going to write I could hear crackling downstairs, constant plastic carrier bag crackling...

And it sounded like something was trying to get out of a bag, or the bin that resides downstairs...like a creature.

Comforting, I had visions of a night in the Easy Village shoebox, I spent it on the couch that I was renting in the early days, I had dozed off in the wee early hours of the morning, wrapped up in a blanket with a leg dangling. It sounded like a scratching noise, the sound that roused me from my dreaming, scratching of plastic, like something trying to get out of a bag.

It took me a few minutes of listening to the rustle-rustle-crunch-pause-rustle-rustle before I remembered where I was, my friends apartment in New York, on the battered old sofa listening to a noise. I peeped an eye open and realised everyone was sleeping, there were no lights on. A little creepy chill ran down my spine, what was in the kitchen? Even worse, there was no door between me and the kitchen.

I froze. Like a big pansy.

The noise went on, the critter was unaware of me, while I was uncomfortably away we might have a rodent in the apartment, probably a big clawed, red eyed rat for all my luck would have.

I sat up, swung my legs back onto the couch and crawled to the end nearest my friends door and knocked, and knocked again. No response, the noise stopped, i froze and it started again. I was completely pansied out. I picked up my cell phone and speed dialed my roomie. Five times. On the sixth he picked up.

'Kev, wake up, we've got a rat. Wake up, its in the apartment.'

In his delirium he was utterly lost and finally opened the door, standing on his side of the threshold, me and him in silence listening.

He scratched his head and mumbled 'Dude, no way.'

At this point i found out who the bigger pansy was as i flicked on the lights, found my shoes and brought forth the country girl in me and ventured towards the kitchen, took a deep breath and with one almighty movement managed to sweep the bin up and dash it outside the living room, all thw while sending evils towards the whimpy guy.

Alas, thank goodness right now there is no mouse and i've just realised its my kittens playing silly buggers down below my spiral staircase. I yelled and they shut up and skulked upstairs to sleep on my floor.

Phew. They are after all my little rat catchers, and i hope they never, ever catch one.

Can I Get Some Love?

I've got no love, no love whatsoever for Valentines Day. No I'm not miserable, being single doesn't naturally make me dread Feb 14th, it doesn't get me when I wake up and I don't want to pull the covers back over my head, it doesn't make me roll my eyes when a lovely couple walks past...

I just think it's a big fat rip-off!!

Guys have it bad, women have it bad. If he doesn't buy something, she'll get in a strop and because it's that day you can multiply that mood by ten. Stand well clear gentleman, she will explode.

If the woman doesn't get the guy anything, he'll feel upset for a reason he doesn't understand, but come on...it's hard enough shopping for you men on your birthday AND christmas, let alone Valentines day.

Considering I left my heart in New York, if I get a card in the post it will be miraculous that someone even thought that far ahead to send one. So i shall leave the house before the post comes and not give it a thought....i think...

The Age of the Minted Lady....

According to sources, there are more female millionaires than men in the 18-24 age bracket. Now something has to be said for that, Nicola Horlick – a millionaire herself – states that in 20 years time 60 per cent of the finances will be dominated by women.

We have to work harder than men to get the job done, while we work we are already forecasting in our minds and then putting into our business the need for balance so that we can break away earlier than our male counterparts from the career stable and move down the road to the family stable.

Men can continue working longer, right up until retirement and we at our desire can chose to stop at a reasonable age for children, if we so wish. The female mind is already aware that we have a specific number of years to travel a thousand miles an hour, flit all over the world seeking out the heights of our careers and getting the best financial future, for at approximately the mid-thirties mark we switch gears to family orientated goals, while men plough forward in the boardroom.

Does it make us better business creatures than men? Has the proverbial glass ceiling finally been broken? The truth is no, it hasn’t yet been completely removed, but it has become less apparent and not quite such a confining force to women in the work place. Many barriers that were once troublesome and restricting are not the case so much in current work places, women are finding themselves higher up the lady, the pyramid of hieracy is relaxing and though some chose to dispute it, we are seeing better and more equal pay all round.

More women are starting their own business across many fields, allowing them to dictate their own lives, schedules and futures, leading to much financial success and a notable increase in the male/ female balance.

Yet what happens when the bio-clock starts chiming a little early, like ten years too early? Can we really be young, motherly and champion the entrepreneurial realm internationally with a little one in tow? Or will there be sacrifices for the joy of family?

One girlfriend recently confessed that having seen me up sticks and spend a year in New York for business, that there is just no way she would be able to do that with her beautiful seven year old daughter in tow. Responsibilities became her. Yet in the best way she’s one of those remarkable inspirations to me, she has truly flourished. Not only does she holds down a hefty and often long day job in a super well known PR firm, she does it with all the style, grace and the panache of us singletons. One would never know that she’s a young mother at the same time, walking her daughter to school and heading on to work.

As I see it she is a symbol of the rapid evolution of the multi-tasking female, even motherhood can be juggled with the career you’ve always wanted, so she is a strong example and good inspiration to those of us with a rather tickedy-tick clock clanging away inside, it can be accomplished and I would never wish to put it so brashly, but we still have something that men can never have…the ability to bear a life and have a life.

It’s worth remembering just what we can do next time that boardroom pitch clinches a deal, you might find yourself successfully pitching and doing business with some of the worlds greatest and most influential entrepreneurs…then kick off your shoes at home and read Little Red Riding Hood to your child.

It's Not a Man's World Anymore

I was talking the other day with an old female colleague of mine in New York...we were having a conversation about the fact that there are not many of us women really visibly doing well on our grind, there's no female Puffy's, Russells or Jays...

In new york I came into contact and worked with so many excellent brainy and business savvy women on the rise, they had to have a tough streak because men do try our patience (no offense, but it's not just about the fact that the ugly stick missed us, but that we're smart and can play you at your own game) and whether you are man or woman you have to be head and shoulders above the rest with enough tenacity to stick it out in the game...but that's normal in any industry, it comes with the territory.

We understand the way the land lies, especially in the entertainment industry, however I hope I never catch myself becoming a sharp power bitch, when I need I can handle myself in a capacity which will have you in no doubt as to my abilities and my business acumen will grow, but I don't feel like leaving the nice side of me at the door when I enter the office. She is me, but she in turn runs her shit well, as well as the highly rude attitude possessed women in the game.

How do you change peoples attitudes? Just be aware that there are great women you can join forces with, you probably already know and trust them, you haven't even thought about it. Promote the good of that, lend a little inspiration to people with out shoving the 'women together' thing in their faces.

Its time the girls stuck together and built an empire to be admired and that will achieve great accomplishments, I'll put my hands together for Mona Scott - President & Co-Owner Violator, Tracey Waples - Senior VP of Marketing Def Jam, Carline Balan - Executive Assistant and right hand to Jay-Z, who also runs her own concierge company.

To name a few...

I've seen the growth of women starting their own companies, sometimes to get away from the glass ceiling that still remains, other times to control their own days and financial future. It can be harder, but more rewarding, combine that with future thinking and knowing how much time off can be taken off in a corporate year compared to being your own boss and enjoying your life your way. I'm still a very stronger believer in the power and strength of independence.

The reason I started my own company last year before I got stupendously sidetracked with a wonderful and crazy job in New York, is not too disimilar. Owning your own roost, picking and pitching clients, reporting only to yourself, to think of no more time limited holidays. There is also the fire driving me to stay ahead of my field, or to become the type of woman that I just applauded above. To be in a position to give others an inspiration, a foot in the door, training for their own future. To have the ability to work with these great industry leading men and women, rather than working under them.

Have I paid my dues enough yet? Maybe, maybe not. I'm learning every day, Melian International's early days look hopeful and no-one can remove me from this rollercoaster, I haven't just bought my ticket, I've invested my love for this in a seat and now we're in motion!!

London's Changed

Since I've been running around in and out of London for the past few weeks, I've noticed everything's pretty much the same as when i left 11 months ago. All but one major detail...

I was standing on the tube last night, bit crowded and i noticed my leg was touching someones bag. I looked around and couldn't really guess who's it was. A feeling crept over me, anyone travelling around London now has to be watchful and mindful of unattended bags and luggage. It makes the hairs on the back of your arm stand up to think that last summer on a average day like today, London was bombed. It doesnt bear thinking about and makes me shudder, its so tragic.

Travelling on trains, tubes and buses has changed. My poor London, to suffer such a horrible thing.

The other thing is, what the bloody heck are they playing at by raising the cost of tube fares by so much. Oh its all well and pretty that they stuck some new cushion covers on the tube seats, what the heck does that do for us in the heat of summer when its stiffling and we get sweaty and cant breathe??? How about firing the stupid fool who thought new seat covers was a good idea??

Two words for you....AIR CONDITIONING FOOL.

Well...three then...

No, its NOT my Birthday

Every time my birthday comes into sight i shudder in horror and then shiver with excitement. I always want my friends around for a little knees up in some bar we've never been too, shortly after that thought i sigh and wonder if anyone will actually bother to put their back against the January cold and come out for some alcoholic high jinx.

Mind you there was the year when people got snowed in up and down the country, people even spent the night in their freezing cars on the motorways because it was so bad. Yes...including moi, it took 3 hours to do a 10 minute journey from Camden to St Johns Wood to change...then i got snowed in and couldnt even get to my own party. With an hour and a half left til throw out time my wonderful boss Kwame and his best mate Justin bribed and commandeered a taxi to fearlessly come and get me to my party.
I couldnt believe how many people had come out for me on that kind of treacharous snowy night....and then i got absolutely lashed in the space of 10 minutes in order to catch up and danced, oh yes i danced in front of everyone.

So this year, having farted around in New York for most of last year, having come home and really appreciated my mates and family. I think i declare a no event birthday. Nothing but a home cooked roast and half a death-by-chocolate cake with a candle to shove my face in.

Birthdays are over rated anyway, aren't they?

Oh to the English Countryside...

Ah so here I am, the absent Daughter/friend/sister/pain in the bum, has at last returned from New York with her worldly possesions in two suitcases and a head full of New York tales.

I'd forgotten how bloody quiet my home town is, if it weren't for my Mum's wonderful company I would have gone slightly batty by now. Mind you at least i know the rest of the world are sat on their laurels eating, drinking and putting their feet up too, so i'm not missing much and am ultimately and beautifully doing absolutely...sweet FA!

So to all of you have a lovely festive season and here's to New Years!

Starving Girls Guide to Eating in New York

If you reach hard financial time and although broke, you have got pretty toes and manolos and you didn't get hit with the ugly stick then there's always a way to eat.

This is new york, and new yorkers date....a lot.

On first dates if your mother raised you right, then polite girls should at least make it look like they're reaching for their purse to offer to split the bill, 9.5 times out of ten the date will shake your offer away.

Voila, have a few dates, even lunch and dinner meetings all week and you've eaten when you're broke.

So strut, meet and date.....lots of first dates will see you fed til the next jimmy choo sample sale.....

Me, ODB & Fat Joe Make Beautiful Music, we iz tight man..

This white girl can't rap...

I so am only talking about myself right there with the above title, cos you know Lady Sovereign can rap, or at least Jay Z thinks she can cos he signed her.

Im not joking, I've never had a desire to rap, now not only is my desire confirmed, but I sadly sound absolutely awful on wax...

A friend of mine was working on ODB's last album in the studio when I stopped by on my merry way to say hello, next thing i know i'm talking to an A&R guy who starts flapping about my voice on a track, with that accent.

I laughed, of course.

He didn't, he was serious.

I kinda stopped laughing, shrugged and said 'Sure what do you want me to say?'

I can always play up being English, I've developed that as an art form here in New York, it's like a key when the door won't quite open.

A few half arsed jokes later about breaking my studio virginity and I'm standing in behind the glass in a recording booth with head phones clapped to my head and a room full of people's eyes on me through the glass.

Gulp.

It's ok i'll just soften them up with my dulcet tones and lovely english girly accent.

They hand me my lines...

Oh.

It read "Ya best bet is to leave, if ya f*ckin wit us.."

Sorry Mum, I swore, quite a few times. In fact by the time they doubled my puny vocals, I'd sworn like a blue thingy fly.

So me, the late rapper ODB and Fat Joe all met on a record, I however may go on to the cutting room floor with my no rhythm, very unganster white attempt at rap...while Fat Joe and ODB may actually get some airplay.

Now why would i even think they'd give me something cute and girly to say????

Marriage and moving on...

Now I'm 23 this is going to start happening a lot isn't it? My friends are going to start marrying off, having beautiful babies and ill sit in the pews chewing my nails, trying to catch the bouquet, scanning for the husband material man.....while I try and dominate the world, oh boy.....

Hahahahahahahahhaahaha

Its so exciting though, knowing we're all getting a bit older, growing up, moving forward, building lives, building families.  Look how different our lives are now to what they were before....running around London, now I have friends who are halfway across the world in the Sudan working for the UN which is incredible, friends with fashion empires, and I'm 3000 miles from where I grew up, trying to crack the music business capital of the world in new york.

Anythings possible right? Right, like I might get married one day too, bless the poor sucker who says 'I do'....

It's unpronoucable....but it cost a fortune..

More and more it comes to view, somewhat close view, that most of Manhattan's young breeds are up to their eyeballs in labels, some of which they can't even pronouce. Wealth is flashed, if your bag is not designer, shame on you. If anyone smells a Canal St fake, even more shame on you. If you wear the same clothes every week shame, if your cell phone is not a Razor (a credit card slim phone Mum), shock horror...

Affluence is measured in material things, something I've never partaken in....well til i found a pair of Ralph Lauren winter boots. Oh yes, you can be quiet, I hear you saying I've turned into one of 'them'. But you'd better believe i rock my Topshop garms and my Canal St bag with them. The lure of pretty designs and beautiful fit is calling me, but unless my bank notches up a few more zeros soon, or somebody wants to be my sugar daddy, I'm not crossing over, just being clever with my shopping ;o)

Admittedly being surrounded by such beautiful bags, shoes and clothes does turn even my mind towards labels. Something that never even held my attention before. I understand what Kanye West says when he talks about some designers clothes or accessories being like pieces of art....yeah I get it now. Now I got to get rich...I'm sorry please hold, there's a millionaire on the other line. Oh it's me, in five years time!!!!!

Dream on little dreamer, right?

Romancing Melian

Yes, romancing me is not hard to do, I know. However, making me blush in front of a room full of people will put me off, so fellas please note we'll have none of that, thank you.

Jermaine Dupri's newest hope for the future is a young man by the name of Johnta Austin, the one who turned me beetroot red. The crooner was doing his thing for press and Virgin label staff at their office, and when i got there, well muppet here laughed at the fact that no-one was sitting in the front row, I promptly parked my backside at the end of the front row. It's like they say, never sit in the front at a comedy show if you don't want to get picked on. This was albeit, slightly nicer, a handsome young singer devoting a few soul ful lines to me, right up close, i think he was singing sexy things actually, but due to the fact i could feel the blush rising up my face i kinda couldn't tell you if he was singing about what bitches we can be, or how much he wants to treat us right and get down, down, down.

Oh well. He thought he was cute after and thanked me for being a 'subject' and i blushed again (shame on me, can't even hold it down), and politely in my very english way, told him never to do it again.

What a charmer, i think the kid's got talent. Did I say he wrote my favourite song? Aaliyah's 'Miss You'?? Quite a talented chap, under Mister Jermaine's watch he might break out and go far. Good luck to him, the romancer!!

Snuggle Snuggle

Oh yes in New York the snuggle season has begun, it's getting chilly, the scarfs come out and you even consider gloves, but I will not be actively searching for my snuggle man.

They never come when you're looking anyway, but that aside I have put my standards back where they were - on the high shelf. Yes it's a stretch to get there, but someone will and luckily for me I'm plenty occupied in the mean time.

And double yay, Christmas is on the way! I'm coming hooooome!!! I absolutely cannot wait to see my family and my wonderful friends, the thought of coming home fills me with utter glee. Yes glee. Let's use the word sparingly.
A good roast, stuffing and my favourite sweat pants with no make up so I can look like a total bum for about a week, oh what a wonderful thought, bliss!!

Dwell on that thought for total come-hither-snuggle-buddy attraction. Hmmmm.

International Telecom...hello?...HELLO??

International Telecom

How is it possible that the people you’ve always been around over the past few years can seem to forget about you? Why does picking up a phone and placing a call seem so hard?

So let’s say it is 70p a minute to call me in America, you go to the corner shop and get a calling card, lets say that reduces it by 50% which now makes it 35p a minute. Lets say you spend ten minutes on the phone at £3.50, maybe once a month or every other month.

I’m only writing this because apparently I’m not worth £3.50 every 4-8 weeks for someone I used to talk to every day. It’s not like I haven’t called my friends in the UK from my office and got in trouble when the bill came, sometimes home is too valuable to put a price on.

Good Grief...

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeek and pants, it's been a whole month since I blogged?! Mind you I don't have internet at home and no time during the day to pour out my randomness....

Oh well. So where have i been in the past month, well here have a look.

This is where i used to live.


This was the Times Square view from my roof


And since September this is where Ive been, New jersey....SURBURBIA. Arrrgghhhhhh!!!!


I took a little tripsy to Santa Monica...


Thats my tootsies in the sun....inbetween meetings of course...


I fell in love with the HUGE cosy hotel bathrobe, shortly after that photo I nodded off under the covers with that thing on, dribbling slighty


And then above the clouds, heading back to NYC....

When Life was Simple

Do you remember when you were maybe about 14 or fifteen, younger even and if that boy you liked plucked up the courage to kiss you, that was it, you were his girl. Then we grew up and somewhere between those innocent years it all got so complicated, the boy you like kisses you and proceeds to kiss about four girls, and I’m talking serious bases with more than one. How did it all get so tricky? Are there any guys out there who just want to keep it simple, keep it to one special person? You’d better alert me if you find one, I would have him up the aisle faster than Jennifer Lopez and her husbands.

Now there’s an idea, try out marriage a few times. You get the diamonds, give the man the idea that you’ll knock him out with said rock if he even thinks to stray. Get a gorgeous honeymoon and if you hit reality and it still works out, bonus. If not lawyer up and say thank you for the love, no you can’t have half of my assets you clearly didn’t know what to do with them in the first place.

Well, maybe not. I’ll stick to be a singleton in New York. Oh wait a minute, singleton implies over 30, over the ideal weight and totally and utterly lost in the world of love. Scrap that, and don’t you call me Bridget Jones either. Fabulously single and so super sassy, thank you very much.

What?? I Don't Know!!!!

Who knows what’s going on, that’s a good question. Don’t ask me, I don’t know. If I had the answers would I be looking at you like you’re talking Swahili?

Pretty much that is what I’d like to tell anyone who asks lately, some things have shifted, but I’m alright. People are always asking, and I cant blame them, they’re at home in England and can’t see me…some things have changed, which I will explain later but all is still well.

I’d like to welcome back to America my English girlie Gurj, congratulations on the visa and here’s to 12 months of jubilations, frolicks, American ways and a new job. Hurrah!! Here’s to brunches and strolling down Broadway.

You have to be tough to survive in New York, that’s what they say. I’ve had some of the toughest times, yet of course the scale slides the other way and I’ve had some of the best times here too. Like heaven and hell and back again. It’s not home, but it’s home for now and I don’t plan on giving it up anytime soon.

New York builds the ultimate business man/woman machines, you don’t have time to think so you need to know more than you know. Admittedly this culture has turned out some of the youngest, sharpest ‘hustlers’ and business men and women. I was thinking of home the other day, wondering if I could pick out names of noted young entrepreneurs in the British music industry, who is our Jay Z? Who is our Diddy? Where’s the one we love to loathe but do so love to watch, where’s our Dame Dash, our Kevin Liles? I honestly drew a blank…apart from of course my Mentor Kwame Kwaten of D-Influence and Jazzie B of Soul II Soul….if you think of someone let me know.
Now you know I don’t like my face in front of the lens, but I’d like to be known for my business skills, if that’s here rather than home, its ok by me. If I can bridge the UK and the USA to make us stronger, that would be a great ambition, it’s like a lifetime thing though and it would take a lot of change and open mindedness.

Balloons that Wither....

Someone gave me a balloon flower the other week, you know when they make stupid animals out of balloons? Some talented (wait, can you call making balloon things a talent?) individual actually made a rather clever orange and green daisy flower, and my date gave it to me (yes he’d had a few to drink, it was his friends birthday).

Its been sitting on my bedside table since then, I just saw it….it’s all shrunken and withered. Oh dear, hope that’s not a sign of my love life. Well maybe it is....

Yes Mother, I had a date, I know how you catch me by surprise when I don’t think you’re reading my blog.

The guy is a physical therapist, a regular hard working guy. Not bad looking either, he could probably pick me up with one hand judging by his strong looking arms. We’ll see, I’m just not ‘down’ with the whole yankee dating system. I really am that old-fashioned English country girl, well no…I’m a modern old fashioned girl. Does that make sense? All this dating who-ha is new to me, but not to them, I think they find me ‘querky’ and ‘quaint’.

I’ve had more of a social life since I moved to Jersey compared to when I lived in Times Square. There have been weekends full of cook-outs, birthdays, Harlem Grill mojitos, Hurricane Katrina good-will BBQs. All sorts, its been a long and wonderful summer in New York and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

I’m a lucky girl, no matter what. Even if mister Physical Therapist hasn't called in 7 days.. :o(

I Suck Celebrities

I know i suck, its been ages since i blogged. But really living the suburban lifestyle in New Jersey is very unexciting...takes alot of motivation to walk to the bus stop and lug my backside to Manhattan, especially because i have to do it all again to get home. Oh how lucky was I to have the city on my doorstep...

You know what I lie.....when i lived in Manhattan i didnt go out this much. I actually voted to stay home on Sunday night to recover, having been out every night last week, from what i remember. There have been loads of album listening parties in the past week, Dwele as hosted by short stuff himself Jermaine Dupri, which miffed me a bit when i spoke to him my eyeballs were level with his forehead. So who you calling shawty now, shawty? Then there was CL Smooth that old school rapper, who's album sounded...well, old school.

Then there were 4 inch heels in my life on Wednesday, now you know me, im the gold flip flops girl. I love heels, especially pretty ones, i just cant walk two steps in them. Well i got all scrubbed and glammed up for Jacob the Jewellers party - 4 inches and all - courtesy of my friend the super DJ Clark Kent, ta for hooking me up love. My girl nearly fell over and kissed Joe's feet when she saw the singer, she gushed adorably about how much she loved him, her mum, her aunt and cousins cousins too. By the time i got introduced i extended my hand said yeah hi im Mel and walked off, he was looking a bit false to me...so i diva-d out before he did. HA.

Mind you, i nearly fell up the slopey floor when i saw Tyson Beckford the model saunter past me. My friend then informed me the floor wasn't sloping, it was me and the free alcohol that was. Ooopsh.

Dont Give me a Heart Attack!!!

I was halfway to sleep last night, when I heard someones heavy feet outside....I know I'm in that semi dream like state but for a second it felt like there was a man climbing up the building by my window and his walkie talkie phone was going. It was so close i actually thought someone was in the apartment.
So I peeked thru the blinds......ended up practically eye to eye with a very large man in fire gear......2 firemen on the roof right by my window, flashlights, radios and heavy boots, talk about giving me a fright!!! Only in Manhattan....
Have no idea what they were doing, but nothing was on fire so I drifted back to to sleep again (having checked the whole apartment for burgulars natch!)

30 Blocks for Biscuits

I just had the most overwhelming craving for McVities Chocolate digestive biscuits, yes english food (cookies to you americans!)...hmmm dunked in a cup of English tea!!!!

The only place i know i can get them is this little deli down in the East Village, they charge me like $5 for a small packet and you can guarantee once i get them home, they wont last the day. Yup i am seriously considering catching the train downtown, 30 blocks for biscuits. I'm a nutter, its official.

Home Is….

Home is never far, no matter how many miles lie between you and the old familiar faces and places. That’s what I’ve come to realise, even though you can’t replace that feeling of home, its just love and that is with you no matter what.
You can move from place to place, stake a claim to a home, apartment, piece of land or shoe-box sized flat in the middle of Manhattan, but it’s not quite the same.
Home is where childhoods are, where your bedroom is that you spent years of summers sulking or singing in. It’s where you close your eyes and smell that old familiar smell, and with your shut eyes you can walk through the whole house, the reason why you never get in your mums way in the kitchen, how you do this little dance around each other when you’re both in the kitchen because you know every step of every space in that old family home. It’s where you return to in times of strain, sadness, joy and times of immense happiness to feel safe and to feel the love, and when only a Mothers hug will do for her daughter.
No matter where you move to, how long you stay there, it’s where you spent your childhood that brings back warm memories, smiles and love.
I do miss home, every day and with each breathe, but dreams take you places and that’s the wonder of this life….we can go where they lead and home’s forever in the heart, it’s an unquantifiable amount of love that stays with you, to know somewhere across the world someone loves you and cares for you, as my wonderful, beautiful Mum does. I’m in your heart and you’re in mine, it keeps the homesickness away :o)

I Love My Gay Roomate...

I love gay men, can i say that? I do, really.I have the prettiest apartment ever.

My old rooomie had to move out August 1st (i miss her), a month before me and the guy who has the lease came back. I come home from work one day to find the apartment spotless and i'm not talking a quick Swifer and dust....he had cleaned everything in sight, every surface, orafice and milimetre. Oh and it smelled of man, which i later realised was a giant stinky scented candle on the living room table. I silently stared at it and wondered just how many hows of pungent burning that thing would take.

Smelly candles aside, he has re-feng something-ed his room, the living room is a temple of zen - came home to burning candles, dim lights and Tracy Chapman last night. One thing I have to say, I do like a man who does the cleaning, boy thats nice to come home to. Shame he has a boyfriend.

Lardy Arse

As i study Fridays special 'Lindsey Lohan' celebrity diet for tonight which is stuck to my fridge with a Broadway magnet, tonights turn-me-into-stick-insect menu consists of plain tasteless chicken, 4 steamed beans and frozen fruit stick.....

I think about it.....as i reach for my doritos and salsa. Does 50 sit ups every 3 days count? What about the five flight walk up in my apartment building?

Ah nevermind, Im coming home a lardy arse eventually. When you'll see me, you'll see my backside about a foot behind, and when i stop dancing, give my ass about 5 minutes to stop shaking.

No, seriously. You think I'm joking.....

Welcome to the Family

Hi, my names Tigger, thats my new Mum holding me. I'll be able to get a proper hug from my mini Mum Mel when she comes home at Christmas, I'm going to make the house pretty in the meantime by climbing up the curtains with my brand new baby claws, roaring across the beautiful green sofa....
Hi yeah I'm his brother, aren't I the lucky one. My names Mogli, in case you forget I have an 'M' striped in my forehead fur to remind you. Don't i look innocent? My big Mum says the same thing til i climb up her jeans with my claws.

So Thats How You Know....

I absentmindedly forget that my mother reads my blogs, she sends random emails to say things like 'Dude, who's the new dude?' and "Roaches? How on earth do you cope?", which frankly leaves me scratching my head til i realise she's the only person who actually checks my blog every day. Aaaaw now isnt that love?

F-F-FR-FRIDAY!

Yay it's the weekend, I love knowing that nothings going to pull me out of bed tomorrow, and so I shall enjoy tonight and dance my cares away, or something like that.

Usually you'll find me holding up the end of the bar, swaying with my 2nd Apple Martini. By the 3rd you usually have to peel me off the floor. Not dancing, I'm talking face down pissed. They say I'm cheap, I'd call it pissed as a fart in 0-60.

And that's a wrap as I incoherently try and tell the taxi driver where I live, usually the address is followed by a hiccup, a slur and "Home jeeefffvvessss..."

AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH EEEEEEEKKKKK!!!!!

Visualise this.....(but don't get over excited)

Im washing my hair, shampoo everywhere, scrubbing away merrily and as i wipe the soap out of one eye, i crack it open and the first thing i see crawling right towards me is a cockroach on the shower curtain.

I kid you not, I let out a whooping great scream and nearly fell out of the shower. I realised if I pulled the curtain aside to jump out of the tub, the roach would probably be sent flying, and knowing my luck it would land on me, or in my hair.

I was one big soapy mess as i shot out of the bathroom, my room mate was like 'whats wrong with you?'

Eeeewwww and ick and all those things a girl should never have to deal with. Totally and utterly rank. Find me a home, someone please.

It's a Man's World

And it always comes back to men....

The dude im seeing, well im sure he's seeing half of new york at the same time. Men are big ho's out here, but frankly the women shrug their shoulders and let them do it, so the cycle keeps repeating and a man is never quite your man. I'm still searching for the old fashioned ideal of a guy to myself, i dont want to think that he was hanging out with me yesterday and then picking up some other chick he used to run with uptown, downtown, east or westside and be with her over the weekend. I'd rather not call him, I'm not that kind of girl.

I got a bit blinkered lately probably because this guy is cute (aren't they all) but i decided last night im acting too keen, so i have minimised myself and am not calling or emailing him now. It's on him to be a man about it and find me. I can't get used to the games, its like learning how to date from scratch, its the weirdest thing to get your head around.Us brits....well we dont really actively date do we?

Love Is....

....Living alone.

Yes I said, yes I love it. There's no time I'm more content than pottering around my shared apartment by myself, I used to live alone for a couple of years and only in the last year have I had roomies, now I do love the company, but whats better than pulling the blinds, turning the telly on when its hot as fish grease and doing my handwashing in my undies??
Then not worrying that I'm halfway through another of my favourite cop dramas and my roomie will come in and have to be subjected to it, when I think they bore her socks off.
My room mate has been away for the past 5 days and it's been bliss, she's easy to live with, but the space has been lovely. If only I could afford a studio apartment all to myself in Manhattan....dream on! Well I guess I could if i wasn't chicken scared of Harlem...ha!

Canal St Special....

I was entertaining the Brits last night, I have 3 of my wonderful long time friends from back home in town and we all went down to a Vibe Magazine event showcasing the new Def Jam artists. It's been scorching lately in the city, the humidity is no fun, pure wall to wall sweat. It didn't take long before the club air con was having trouble keeping up with the hot bodies packed together.
After the 2nd artist on stage we were all having a natter and my dear friend Royston says outloud "Ooh look theres a Prada badge on the floor from someones Prada something....or actually, it ain't real if it fell off! There's a Prada faker in here somewhere, oh dear!"
As I looked down and saw the badge, I recognised it....from my bag. Im glad it was hot and dark in there already because I went crimson. All I could do was look at it, amongst the jokes I could hardly lay claim to it, though I wanted to pick it up, take it home and fix it. My beautiful Canal St special bag now has an awkward little naked bit were the badge used to be.
Mind you, I didn't feel so bad about the fact that I probably paid about 10% of the price of a real bag, and the money I saved, rent darrrling!
Maybe a faker, but I'm a sensible Manhattan ladieeeeee now. Some people have Prada and Gucci, I have food in my fridge and Steve Madden.

Throw a $20 You Never Know What U Might Get....

I don't often go out on week nights anymore, a 7am wake up call kind of prevents any chance at a social life, though sometimes i try. On Tuesday I tried.

It was a launch party for Jermaine Dupri's Young, Fly & Flashy compilation album at some club on the westside of Manhattan, so I called the girls and guys and made our way down there, admittedly i was with my friend and a bunch of his guy friends that I didnt even know, but we were having a giggle, they set us up with a table and a bottle of Grey Goose in the VIP. I wasn't too impressed with coughing up $20 for the one drink I'd had from the bottle between 10. Had i known I would have scarpered across the other side of the room like my friend, who missed out when the 'pay up' lady came round.

He was watching something on the stage, so i turned my head and my jaw dropped at what was going on onstage, then suddenly there was a woman standing above the guy called Tony beside me, big boobs, dress cut down to her navel and slit to her thigh.

Oh dear.

"Is this your first time in a strip club?" He replied. What gave it away? My flame red cheeks and unimpressed look?? There was a woman in a thong dancing in some ambient lights on the stage. Mind you if i looked like that I'd be proud too!!! Not quite how i envisioned spending a Tuesday night.

That's when I noticed at the table below me, one of the younger members of staff from the firm i work at was sitting there, a very very happy man.....it seems my colleagues girlfriend had thrown a $20 at a stripper and she was giving him a lapdance. I couldnt look at him in the face the next day without cracking up, especially because he had a little-boy-guilty look on his mug.

There are some things you don't want to know about some people, you know? Then again a mans brain is central to his body, not north of his neck and well, their buttons are so easily pressed. I swear every one of the guys in our group, except my friend were boggle eyes and making testosterone filled jokes. And strangely enough the place was being used for this CD launch, hmmmm different?

Thankfully we left shortly after.....I've seen it and its definitely a mans world. Whatever rocks their boat!

And....you actually expect to find a Roommate??!

I'm deep into apartment hunting and I sit at home, going boggle eyed on my laptop, glued to craigslist.org where it seems all of New York looks for room mates or places to live. Some of the postings ive come across on this website have really, really tickled me pink and made my eyes bulge, some are so absurd, others make me gasp "Who's going to move in with you?? Like, ever!"

"Because we don't know each other, and will possibly be living together, I will be rather exclusive. In other words, I'd rather get by and live by myself than have money and live with a piece of shit." Well, there you have it. Then I read further...

"Other things you should know about myself and about the apartment are: - I have a girlfriend, and she wouldn't want another girl moving in. " Can you say...NEXT.

This one sounded really good:
"This is a really nice apartment! Elevator building, doorman, laundry in basement, huge living room, two and a half baths, dishwasher, near several trains, ten min from central park, etc. You will share it with two nice and laid back roomies, a 25 yr old guy in the financial industry and a 25 yr old girl in the arts...."

Then i read on... " You would be sharing a bedroom with me, the girl. The bedroom is divided in half, dorm style. " Er.....NO, I don't think so!


Trust me there are more....but I can't see past the madness....

By one Bedroom You Mean I Rent the Couch??

Here I go, all over again....apartment hunting. The stories that one person has after emailing, phoning, truding across town to see these places would make a comedy sketch. There was the place with the bath tub in the kitchen and a man who lived in a hovel-ly mess at one end of it....the guy who rented out his living room, which in itself was actually a tiny bit too small for the folded out sofa bed.

It goes on an on, ads lie, and people stretch the truth, people who call themselves homebodies only to roar drunkenly into the apartment at 3am on a weeknight, laughing like a hyena. There are the 'clean' guys who do not clean the bathroom, the kitchen or in fact any part of the apartment where you can actually see a part of the apartment.

So from these and my friends experiences, i will not live with men, smokers, people with pets (kittens maybe - sooo cute), lazy bums, party girls, or places with thin walls, cockroaches, yellow running water, 5 long flights of stairs with no elevator (try that in 96 degree weather, hmm), shady parts of town, oh and i will try and work out when i go see apartment if the roomate(s) are completely stark raving mad within 5 minutes. If they seem just a little bit crackers, run for my life.

So if you know anyone who is clean and well semi friendly with a spare room to rent in a nice part of Brooklyn, not to far from the city....i beg you let me know!!!

5 Months to Prepare your Hugging Skills!!

Yes Christmas, that joyous time will bring me back to English shores, so you'd better get ready with your hugs because I want lots to make up for the 8 months without!

When your friends ask you at time like this when am i coming home, it hits the heart....i wish i could charter a jet and zoom over the Atlantic just for the weekend. Maybe I'll become a rich lady over night and do that!

Thanks....

...For all the messages, the emails, calls, IMs everything that everyone has sent me since the horrible events of thursday, I was overwhelmed and so shocked and just scrambled around to find all my friends and my family, who thank goodness were safe and sound. The kindess of New Yorkers around me, friends and those i met a long time ago was wonderful, everything at this time is so appreciated, especially being so far away from home when it all happened so close, too close....so thank you.

Sending my love home.

Hubba Hubbaaaa....

I had a moment, a lip biting oh my....moment. As I plugged into my ipod while I was waiting on the platform of 23rd St station, a man walked past, fiddling with his ipod too.

I caught his face as he wandered down the platform.

My little heart stopped and then went thud-t-thud-thud a gazillion times....

The STUNNING man was Taye Diggs, the star of my favourite UPN 9 show, Kevin Hill and one of the actors in the movie Chicago amongst other movies. And well all round gorgeous specimen of a man. Ohhhh i have seen a bum that nice since i cant remember when! He was all muscles and hidden behind shades and a flat cap.

I got off at my stop and dialed my friend Gurj to tell her my dribblesome news and what was the first thing she says? "What was Taye Diggs doing taking the train?". Then i called Charisse my business partner and the first thing she said was "Ooohh girl." The second thing was "What's he doing on the train? Isn't he a celebrity?"

What a famous person cant take the train?? Smart man, saving money from rip-off new york taxi fares.

Still when he divorces his beautiful all singing all dancing wife, he can give me a call. Oh and i did i talk to him? I a big shy girl and i couldnt think of a thing to say. Well ok i thought of a million things to say, except all of which made me sound like a 12 year old girl fan, and a few i just wouldnt outside of my head!!

Ah i shall have sweet dreams tonight :o)

Oh and...

Did you notice how good I was? Not ONE joke about Seamen...

Oh come on i had to be restrained, my mother reads this.

Men in Uniform Alert!!!

Remember that episode of Sex & The City where Carries walking with one of the girls and she squeals something about it being the one weekend in the year that you can see men in uniform everywhere?

She didn't lie...it's Memorial Day weekend and obviously all the sailor boys in their little white peaked caps and shiny shoes, docked their big ships somewhere on the edge of Manhattan and take to stopping in groups on street corners and look around, as if they forgot what concrete dry land looked like.

Nice change of New York City scenery for the ladies, its like men-in-uniform fantasy come to life, they are everywhere. But don't they have 'civvie' clothes? Oh apparently they do, but they can only wear their clean whities amongst the civvies, so they not only stand out, but women trudging home from their jobs gets a quick glance from a strong, country serving, upstanding America to make em smile.

I'm taking my early afternoon off tomorrow and heading West to the Intrepid, thats a big ship somewhere on the Westside of Manhattan, shouldn't be too hard to find, right?! Where's there a ship they're more Navy men....yaaaaaay!!

There’s a Hole in my….Kitchen?!

I got a text from my room mate Liz while I was on my way home last night, she had come home from work and found three Mexicans in the kitchen, the sink on the floor and a giant gaping hole in the wall behind where the sink was.

Apparently there was a leak and the landlord didn’t call anybody, he just sent the plumbers in, poor Liz must have got a fright to find three men standing in our apartment surveying the damage, especially as none of them speak English (I met them this morning when they knocked once and let themselves into our apartment!).

So our beautiful little apartment is looking a bit sorry for itself and breakfast was Starbucks on the run as we can’t even get to the fridge. I could have sworn I heard a cat meowing from the hole in our kitchen where all the pipes are exposed. I hope nobody’s moggie got stuck. I dread to think what the bombsite looks like when I get home, preferably fixed….because it smells of pee.

Let’s Get Aquainted Shall We?

I’d chosen my new apartment quite quickly after seeing a few others, this one had a homely feel and was adorable, plus my new roomie was the sweetest North Carolina girl so I figured getting along with her was more important than the place with 30 foot ceilings that I had just seen.

My friend Paul was an angel he helped me haul my suitcases up the 5 flights of stairs, when we came off the street I looked at the stairs, looked back at him, frowned and said ‘I’m really sorry for what I’m about to put you through. The 4th floor is actually 5 flights up.’ I grimaced, but he just went about lugging the cases up the stairs. Once inside he settled to run through my ipod and check out my music library while I unpacked. I suddenly heard the most phenomenal honk-honk-honking, followed by a terrificly loud wailing chorus of sirens. I looked back at Paul, who with the ipod couldn’t hear a thing. I ran over, yanked the ear pieces out of his lug holes and with a bemused smile said ‘You’re missing my personal welcome salute from the firemen and their trucks!’ Needless to say he let out a chuckle. It’s amazing though, soon enough the sound becomes a part of the backdrop and falls into the background, and I sleep right through it.

The other thing that’s causing numerous bouts of ‘eeeeeeek!!!’ and ‘eeewwww’ type of face pulling, is the fact that I seem to be sharing the apartment, a very very clean apartment, with a family of small roaches. Now I’d heard about this, never experienced it. There is what I call the ‘Death Can’ on the kitchen worktop, otherwise known as Raid. I call it can-of-death because it quite literally sprays the life out of the little suckers in 2 seconds flat, god it smells lethal too. Then as the thing is dying on the kitchen floor I look up out of the kitchen window and see all the lights and skyscrapers of Times Square and smile, it’s not so bad really. I’m a country girl afterall.

English Alien

I landed in New York with my life in two cases on thursday night at 11.30pm(after a horrible 15 hour journey that connected in Chicago!!) And the first thing I saw when we came off the runway was......

A HOOTERS plane. I swear, I do not jest. It was orange and white and I thought I really must have taken too many travel sicks pills. Then the taxi drove past aplace in New Jersey called Lackawanna. Lack a wanna what? Oh yes, its definitely only in America.

I learnt last night that the deli on the corner of my block - which is 2 doors down will deliver a pint of milk, just a pint of milk to your door!!!

Gym, I must find one!!!!!! I'm not coming home at christmas as a little mel blob, no way dude!

By the way, the men are FINE. I had to drop my eyes to the floor just now on the subway as the light skinned guy opposite me was just gorgeous. I'll be in trouble out here! Mind you I didn't know the last guy out here that I dated was actually a ex crack dealer with a baby on the way, he seemed so sweet. Oh how they lie!

There will be more tales of the hood soon, thats my hood....Times Square or as I prefer it...Hells Kitchen!! The name just totally rawks hahaha.

Up On The Roof

Two doors down from our apartment, our friends were having tacos and beer on their seventh floor rooft top by candle light and guitar, so a whole bunch of us were up there looking over the city at night. One side there were apartment blocks, little windows lit up and the other side we could see the Chrysler building and the Empire state from our little roof in the East Village.

That's the stuff good moments are made of, the first great night of the summer. Here's to many more good ones in my new home from home.

Hell's Kitchen

There is a place in Manhattan with a strange name, it's called Hells Kitchen and its where I'm about to live. It's like one block of nutty Times Square and four avenues off the Hudson river. Someone just told me that when Mayor Gulliani (can't spell?) came into office and did his massive clean up of New York, he cleaned up Hell's Kitchen and renamed it 'Clinton'.

Now what would you rather say....'Hey, I live in Clinton.' or 'Hey, I just moved into Hell's Kitchen...'

I'm voting HK!!

Here's the definition of HK: ----Hell's Kitchen (also known as Clinton) is a neighborhood of New York City. It is the area between 34th and 59th Streets, from 8th Avenue to the Hudson River.

It's my new neighbourhood when I return to NY to live and work, I'll have a bubbly new room mate called Liz who's a working actress and a homely room inside a very, very cute little midtown apartment, just by Times Square.

It doesn't get more New York than that.

Kevin Mark Trail

When it comes to Kevin Mark Trail, he makes me proud of British music, he's someone you should definitely check out. The music's as honest as it gets and he's brilliant, brings to mind West London streets, the River Thames and well wonderful old London town with this soul meets something voice.

Check him out http://www.kevinmarktrail.co.uk and check out his video for The Thames, its brilliant.

Kevin's a big supporter of an artist that I used to look after at D-Influence, her name is Louise Setara and you can often find her headlining at legendary Jazz venue Ronnie Scotts, in London's West End, while Kevin appreciates from the audience.

Check out Louise Setara http://www.louisesetara.net and take a look at the black and white photos throughout the site, something that I was able to do for Louise as well as some A&R, just take a listen to Love Me Still if you can.

Big tings a gwaaaan London town, keep it moving.

Guardian Angel....

Yesterday I got on the R train from 57th Street to head home to 8th street and I was in some kind of far away daydream, probably trying to collect my million new feelings about the visa. I looked over at the bench-like seats that lined the sides of the train. I found myself really staring absently at the hard plastic, trying for some daft reason to put a name to the colour, it wasn’t black, it wasn’t grey, definitely not blue, it was…charcoal.

In the split second that my mind registered the name to the colour, I saw an image of a stick of sketching charcoal, like I used to use. As the image sat in front of my eyes, I could suddenly see bright yellow daffodils behind the stick, the image was filled with so much light and warmth, that within the mili-second that this little image passed through my thoughts, there was a word and a mass of feeling being said almost aloud in my mind, and it surprised me. The word was Nan.

Over the years, I’ve often had conversations with her in my mind and thought of what she’d think of her little granddaughter all grown up, and for the first time with so much clarity she was with me, on that train speeding down a New York subway. There was a carriage full of people, and she touched me, I didn’t feel a hand or anything physical but instead it felt as if she pulled me toward her side of wherever she is for a moment and I’m so glad she did. It was a wonderful sense of emotion and love.

Nan passed on 14 years ago, but yesterday, and strangely enough today in the day-time, Nan was very much right there. I’m not sure why now, after all these years or how, and it certainly doesn’t matter why, it’s enough for me to have that second. For her to let me know she’s strong, serene and standing by her girls always.

Today I was sitting at a desk, head down fiddling with my phone and my hair had fallen forward giving me somewhat ‘tunnel’ vision, and out of the right side of my peripheral vision it felt like afternoon sunshine covering me. As I knew it wasn’t there, not even a window on that side of me, I didn’t turn my head to look and see. The light lingered with me for a second longer, but I glanced and there was nothing. Immediately after I put my head back down I felt it again and allowed myself to feel a little warm glow, she was with me again.

Nothing about either of these occurrences startled me, especially since I’m a believer in her keeping watch over me and Mum particularly, and I’ve wished for many years to know she truly is beside me, whether I realise it or not. Now I may sound like a crazy woman who just lost her mind and believes in something highly unusual, but I have no doubt about what it was. So I send up a little thanks and hope I feel her near me again, for now though it’s amazing and comforting enough to know Nan’s never left me. The women in my family are so strong and I never asked where it came from, but maybe its just the way that we get our strength from each other, where one generation won’t leave the next one, but stands with them, passing on strength in spirit.

Dream: Granted

I don’t quite believe it, I have been approved for a visa to work in New York!!
This year in my determination to move to America I got offered a job, applied for the visa and have been patiently, somewhat nail bitingly, waiting ever since.

You’ll never know how much the waiting sucks until you release you’re sitting on a fence, with an American future on one side, and a British something on the other side, unable to be positive or negative, plan or even guess what will happen. A sort of torturous limbo.

The result of the application for the visa was due on Monday, which passed hour by hour without word, then Tuesday came and frantic calls were made….nothing. Then an email lands with a ping and the word in capitals ‘APPROVED’.

My legs and my hands simultaneously started shaking!! I didn’t know who to call first, well, after my Mum :o)

Unbelievable, I’m over the moon!

Not the Cheap Seats, purlease.

I'm surprised it got to the news before it passed my ears, yes women of the world, Denzel Washington is a click away...just a $200 click away.

The Oscar winner is taking up a little Shakespeare in the form of Julius Caesar on Broadway, and I want to go. However, the tickets are $115 for the crud seats (cheap seats people, craning and ruining your vision anyone?) and they go up to $300+.

Just a regular night on the take if you're one of Hollywoods hefty actor men. Imagine for a moment being in the first few rows...all that yummy man, right up close and very, very real. Alright calm down, I'm not encouraging stalker fantasies, but it does sound good right?

Now where did I put my rich-man-date-reserve list?

Holla!!!

Which One's The Right One?

There's an age old question that all women come down to at some point and it applies to our choice of men. Why do we put ourselves through the ringer when we notice a pattern of terrible men choices in our past? Why do we not break the chain and do the thing we know we should have done about four ex's ago...go for the good option, the safe bet? The man who would be kind to you, loving and secure. For me personally, and alot of my girlfriends its the same in New York and all over the world, the thing we always ask ourselves as we come through another bad one and then look at the good guy right under our noses, is....can the good guy be exciting enough, can we make up for lost chemistry.
Can we compromise and stay happy, or are we going to go for the fun and the chemistry every time, knowing in the back of our minds that it won't last, but wondering if this time it might just....well, last?
Is anyone ever good enough?

Got a Mint?!

It had to be done, my good friend JD had just visited Jacob....that's Jacob the Jeweller, the king of hip hop diamonds, with friends such as Kanye West, LL Cool J and Ja Rule, you know the man does not need my piddlin' pennies, but we walked in there anyway!

I felt the weight of a 10 carat diamond on my finger, the value of this mighty rock was not even able to break into the logic of my brain. At a shocking $398,000.00 this rock the size of a penny coin set within bagettes upon princess cut, invisible set diamonds just blew my mind. I was looking at this thing, not believing it was actually real, my head wouldn't let me understand it!! The mind boggled.

Obscene, in a way that you could never imagine. Gratuitously ostentatious and even more sickening is the thought that someone will actually purchase this exact diamond ring, if they haven’t already.

Think about the things you could do with close to half a million, but yet there are people who’s income has reached a terrific mind expanding level, that they have so much disposable income that they fritter away the six figures on a large fine cut rock, care of Jacob the ghetto Jeweller.

In his window of his newly opened store sits the pieces he’s proud to have designed for those with a disgustingly expendable income. There’s LL Cool J’s infamous diamond Mic pendant, Ja Rule’s noticeable guitar design, Cash Money’s humongous full diamond faced watch. The list goes on, still celebrities openly flock to Jacob, once a man known to a special elite few, now sells to any sucker who’s caught by the blinding flash of extravagance and ego, and not intimidated by the square set, strong fisted security guard.

Step inside, for you too can own Kanye’s Jesus piece, if you really want. Ladies, don’t expect any delicate, refined pieces within the collection, it’s pure hardcore rocks, everywhere the eye turns. Jacob never was a wallflower, and quite frankly when said flower is getting as much celebrity and rich nourishment as he, why would you do anything less? $398,000 is just pocket money.

Piddlin' pocket money.

A Change Gone Come

Something is coming, it's on my horizon and it's about to make a sizeable change. Keep em peeled, I'm not saying anything more right now, I'm impulsive yes, but I am trying to hold it down and keep it mum for a little minute longer.

I just have to say - stand up and APPLAUD Jamie Fox, for he is now among the hall of legends as an Oscar winner and I don't think anyone deserved it more. We all forget we were watching Jamie and believed it to be Ray, after not too long. Big up ya chest Jamie....here's to opening more doors and bringing in change. Change is good.

Who You Know & How You Do

So here in New York, the great UK VS USA discussion continues on and it still fascinates me. Ive spoken with fellow Brits who have made the transition here to New York and spent hours mulling over the various nuiances and wonderful things about this city, and the way of life here.
It occured to me that after spending most of my young adult life (which means from picking up the phone and driving the music industry mad at 14) in the British music industry, how does it become so that I am more well connected and seemingly doing more business in New York than is possible at home?
Im not saying dreams cant come true in London, its just that im sure i'll ever be given the tools or the position to do so there, the industry is so jam packed with people wanting the same, but there is an over crowding of 30 somethings still struggling it out for a little bit of a crust. Over here, you can minus that ten years, so that by the time the try-ers like me hit mid 30's, they are more than on their way to becoming any darn thing they want to. Young people here have corner offices, young people are responsible for incredible records, and the best part? These same young people in New York are opening the doors for someone like me to come through, knowing that in return a favour is never forgotten and they trust that it will be returned.
Its not as if they extend trust, its not to say they dont, but it's respect. When someone gets up on the ladder, they help to pull 2 more people up with them.
Back home we seem to hold preciously tight to what we have in terms of our links, abilities and chances of connecting someone else. I can even say that i have done the same thing, without realising it.

This blog could continue for a long time about the two cities, two states of minds, the truth is help a person out, you might need them to do the same for you one day. Lets all adopt a New York state of mind, it wont neccessarily bring about a seismic shift in the UK's thought process, but its a start.

Very Vixen

Last night (pre-sickness), i headed up to the Vibe Vixen Magazine launch, held at a rather plush bar on 58th called Fredericks. I was feeling more than a bit off key by then, so that pre designed that it would be a short visit. Having not been allowed a plus one, i was running solo, which is fine i thought I'd see a few of the guys from Vibe, which i didnt. I saw Ciara, she came and hosted the party as her beyonce looking mug is on the cover of the first issue.

That was about all i could take and i made a break for the street, when the door opened the chill wind whipped to my bones and i was standing on the red carpet outside surrounding by soft falling snow. I stopped and looked up for a minute or two before some burly dude bellowed 'Maam, we need to keep this area clear.' I bellowed back 'TAXI' as my sickness was definitely not holding back for much longer.

This whole music industry urban and otherwise runs so much deeper than back home, it really a life for people here. Young people like myself are really in the game, doing it and doing well, they can have big dreams within the urban industry and have their own office in which to bring those wishes to fruition. They have the talent, they find the talent and make it happen with such a dynamic that ive never seen before.

Every day here just makes me want to stay, so that i can carve out something for myself and maybe more people by working between new york and london. They're serious out here, they have the monetary position to be that way too, compared to the little genre and the little turnover that we call 'urban' back home. Even then we feel like we cant sell real hip hop, real soul, real R&B. The truth is we can, we just dont seem to believe people will buy it.
I say they will and that we need to rethink out attitudes to the same thing that commands nearly more music sales than any other genre in america.

It is possible, here everything is up to you. The tools are here, and im ready for it.

You Have NO Idea how Cooooold it Is!!!

It certainly is nice to leave bhind that mundane day job and be out here pounding the pavements doing the work i love to do. Its been going well so far, happy to say that there are some good people looking out for me and im lucky.

My stomach, not so lucky. I ate something bad yesterday and spent the night being quite, quite sick. This led to a redundant friday, but i had it down as a flexi day to catch up with business without meetings. Now the weekends here, ill be back on top form by monday....which is 'Presidents Day', which means a 4 day week, which means i got 4 days to cram in the rest of my meetings. Hmmm great.

I cant tell you how cold it was today, i thought i'd take a walk a few blocks up the street to Union Square, have a nosey around Virgin and Forever 21 for bargains, but by the time i got there, i couldnt utter a bleep i was so cold and my ears pulsed in pain. Dammit why didnt i buy ear muffs??. I pulled my furry arctic hood up round my face like an eskimo and cold footed it home, just as briskly as i could, ive spent the rest of the evening holed up in the apartment, cooking, cleaning, watching a movie and blogging.

Hmmmm arent i exciting?

To The Place I Love

Oh yes, I have landed. I made my return to New York on Monday afternoon, it was a slightly dramatic journey to say the least and it nearly had me kissing tarmac.
The sunday night flight bound for New York that i was 3 hours into suddenly made a U-Turn back to Heathrow, siting 'technical problems' as the problem. Only the male steward and not the trolley dolleys would later state it was in fact an 'oil leak in engine 3'....only had to think about the little drops of oil leaking from the engine for the next three hours. That combined with the 17 year old school boy class clown behind me making jokes about the fact that there was something wrong with the plane. Not even funny, let me tel you. I nearly folded his nether regions in the tray table.

When we landed back in London, it was past 1am, they checked us into a hotel and it was past 3am before i washed the tubular plane feeling off me and caught less than 3 hours sleep before i went back to the airport to find out what would become of this flight lark.

Eventually they scheduled me on an 11am British Airways flight, cue more travel sick pills and some lovely lady asking me to guide her 19 year old daughter to the other side as she'd never flown alone before. Of course i said, feeling like crud. In fact this surrogate companion was a lovely girl, fairly quiet by the name of Sophina, headed to Conneticut for a month...yeah i have no idea where that is either.

Finally the wheels touched american soil and i was flat out exhausted, but it wasn't over yet. We then spent one and a half hours in the queue to go through customs. Imagine, no make up, no decent meals, my case being rifled through by at least four people - in apparent random checks both sides of the atlantic, two doses worth of travel sick dopey pills, very little sleep and the customs officer taking my finger prints and oh so awful arrival photo, is asking me why i dont have a boyfriend. Poor dude, i recounted the entire horrible 24 hours gone by. Somehow i left customs smiling though and found my taxi and fell asleep on the way to the East Village.

"Freak Out...Meltdown?!!"

BLOG IT

It’s a difficult time and I don’t know whether to blog this or not, so for now its just a word document, especially as I’m not sure who, if anyone reads my blog, apart from wonderful friend Gurj.
I feel like I’m caught between a lot of different places, between of course London and New York, im heading back there this week and as its just for two weeks the pressure is on to come home with a job offer, sponsor or at least some serious prospects…its no-ones elses pressure but my own. I so badly would like to be living and working out there by the end of the year, here in London people know I’m not working for anyone but myself, ive put the word out time and time again and people do come to me, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that when they come they want the best of me, but they come towards me with empty hands, as if I can do all of this just for the love. No amount of that would pay the bills, though I wish it would in a perfect world.
Money limits so many things and im feeling it now more than I have done in about three or four years, since leaving the seminar its been tough, I ploughed a lot into the two months in New York and that’s ok because you’ve got to put in to get back.

My client list reads like the who’s who of international hip hop in all cities – London, Paris, New York, LA and yet most are falling off the page. The demands are perfectly ok, all things that I can do and do well, but the bank account is just standing staring at most of these people, with empty hand out, waiting. More often than not the hand slips back empty, though its not a nice feeling, that’s life.

I can cope with that, we all can, it’s the same thing that’s been happening since I was old enough to work, my struggle lies in working a job I don’t want to be doing right now just to get by. Its takes 9 hours of my day, on my feet and I come home zombie like and tired and stare at my laptop for a few hours before I realise it’s hit two in the morning and I should have been in bed hours ago to get up and do it all again tomorrow, to return home with just as little energy. Meetings get pushed and squashed into the one weekday I have off and im out all day, with barely enough time to bash out a whole article when I get home.

I think im caught between not enough time for friends, even just to call them, and between having so much creativity that isn’t being used which in the end is looking like its turning me stir crazy.

I want this job, I want it in New York….this year.
Let it be me, just please let it be me.

Blog-less and Valentines Date-less

This blog is a little late, but since i left New York my life has not been anything as exciting as it was while I was there.
Well actually, thats a bit of a lie....its been a bit yo-yo up and down. Launching my own company....Melian Music Group has been a real bloody adventure in how not to get ripped off, or how all my so called associates have been trying to take me for everything i know and without dropping a penny in my hand!!! A young face maybe, but just you try it....lol
That aside, people have proved that I'm good at what I do and its been a massively positive beginning to my own venture. Though I hear Damon Dash has launched the Damon Dash Music Group....I'll be having words with him about the name, maybe marriage is making him complacent!!
So yes Im flying back to New York in two wonderful weeks time, and I just can't wait. Ive booked myself into the 40/40 Clubs Valentines Night red carpet Gala...got the dress and everything. Now all I need is an actual man to hang off my arm. Anyone?

Blog It, Merry Christmas

This little blog is really for my dear friend Gurj, a friendship really did begin with Virgin Megastore, Times Square and Starbucks, three things that would all end up playing a significant part in what were 2 terrific months in New York.
There have been so many new things, a new life and the beginning of one hell of a love affair with New York city for both of us. Reaffirming that the life we want, we can have in NY. A little dream, goes a long way. To have been able to have shared the fun, the craziness and everything else about our prospective new home with someone of such a like mind (ie as bonkers as moi) has been a blessing.
It is Christmas day and you're out there on a wing and prayer solo right now, if i could be there i would be. But just think you could run thru the streets of new york starkers if you wanted cos there's no-one around - 80% of New Yorkers aren't actaully from new york....so like birds - they fly home for crimbo!

When it hits Jan 1st my mind is set on New York, i will book flights....for Feb or a bit later when it's not so Arctic, how on earth do NY-ers survive? Its bloody ridiculous when winter hits! Gurj, are you really ready for that? Dust off your thermal long johns and throw fashion out of the window. How people get horny in the winter beats me, all those layers and sexy granny-knitted style bobble hats and giant sub zero worthy mittens? If my phone were to ring on the street, in the cold and the snow....one I'd take a month of sundays to find which pocket of which of the 12 layers i put it in, two if you're ringing me and im outside in below zero, you really think im gonna take off my extreme weather mittens? And three, what makes you think my jaw will actually not be so cold that i have the power of speech, and not just 'c-c-c-c-c--f*ck-i-i-i-its-c-c-c-c-c-c-cold!!'??

Hmmm the fun things I must think of under taking if I really have got my heart set on living in New York. Oh and Gurj did you think about the sticky, sweaty, 100 degree concrete summers? Oh no, i forgot those too. But those americans are nifty with their air conditioning! Let's just make friends with P.Diddy and I'm sure he'll find us charming enough that we can retire to his Hamptons Mansion for the summer and watch the pretty people by the poolside.

Get yer butt back to London girl, I can't wait to see ya!!

Ho ho ho Merry Crimbo :)

A Tale of Two Cities

Yes I'm sorry, my last blog was on November 23rd.
It's now December 15th and since then I have packed up my two months of fun in New York and very sadly dragged my tail back to London. I'm comletely head over heels for New York City....I miss the nutty and cheap taxis, the 'brrp bppp bppp' sound of the walkie talkie phones, the 'what up ma', 'what's good' and all those ny-isms.
The lack of hip hop in my London life is enough to make a girl blue, what's with playing all those Blu Cantrell tracks at a Christmas party?? All two of them.
The difference between the two cities is apparent to me now, I love my home, but 22 years in one place and it feels like time for a change soon. London sticks to it's old fashioned values, the clever creative people i know remain stuck in the 'tomorrow, tomorrow' state of mind. My New York buddies have shown me the faster side of life, where things are done in a day, where young people in music can do well and I'm proud of them for that. I'm ready for the land of 5th gear. Bring it on!!

Truly bitten, and smitten. x

I Got Pimped!

I'm serious, last night I got pimped. I was out with my friend Tah and a couple of other British girls, fresh in from London and hadn't adjusted to the fact that women in New York actually wear clothes in clubs. Wearing a belt for a skirt begins to make your Coral club experience a little scary.

One guy, 3 girls = one lucky man! We had already laughed that Tah looked like he was 'ballin' when this guy came up to him and I thought they knew each other, so when said guy introduces himself to me - it took me a second to realise none of us knew who the fark he was. Next thing i know he's saying 'Yo you're beautiful, can I talk to you?'
'Only if it's ok with him?' I pointed at smiley Tah.
'Alright so if i ask him and it's ok with him, we can talk? Hey why you looking at me like that ma?' He says, then he turns back to me and says irritatingly in my ear 'Can I give you $500 to give to him?'
'WHAT?!' I shrieked....clearly I'm confused, or he is.
'I'll give you $500 to give to him, cos you're so beautiful.'
'Why are you going to give him money?'

Doh. Penny drops.

Oh.my.god I'm a fully dressed hooker. I mean fully dressed - black trousers, black sweater. Dear god. By the look on my face mister $500 moved away quickly.

At this point I pinched Tah's arm and said 'Tah honey, did you know you're my P.I.M.P?'

Ah good times, Santori times.

Diamonds & Fellons....

It could only be diamonds that caught my eye as I strolled round Bloomingdales, like a magpie these cute little pieces sparkled at me...

Kimora Lee Simmons, wife of hip hop honcho Russell Simmons has designed a high end range of bling accessories for her Baby Phat label and yours truly couldn't wait to touch em! A mere $800 for an 'M' pendant and $400 for the worlds cutest pave mini dog tag...damn where did I put that rich future husband of mine?! Never there when I need him. Next time some guy strolls up to me in a club with all his labels out, and offers to buy me a drink, I'll reply 'I'd rather have the cash sweetie, and the diamonds...' Damn it, I never normally go for such typical diamond stuff but oooooowww it's soooooo pretty....ok sorry i've lost the plot and become completely materialistic. Shoot me now. (After you get me the dog tag, yeah?)

This weekend I was a naughty lady....I walked out on a bill at a restuarant. Yes, I ran off without paying. Now wait....you'll soon see why. On a weekend, me and my English girls are starving and we go to Stingy Lulus diner for brunch. Not only had the food not arrived after more than 35 minutes, but when we asked where it was, it came out stone cold. We asked for replacements - fresh, hot food and what came back was the exact same plates of food - just microwaved. No apologies at all. I asked them to take it back.....they then served the 3 orders one by one, so the 1st person had finished by the time the 3rd plate came out. Our non-english speaking waitress was crap and looked scared of us, therefore she avoided our table at all costs.
Enough was enough, we thought they'd take some of the food off the bill, but nope!!
So we closed the bill without paying, got up and left. And frickin sprinted back to the apartment after tipping the bus boy!!!

And no, I haven't turned into some bad girl. I'm still good, well kinda.

Cut The Talkie-Talkie

Honestly, I know Americans talk fast and in great volumes, but come on now.... The men are the worst, one minute they are talking business and you think you're onto something, the next they've switched and are chatting you up. For crying outloud at least sign on the dotted line before the flirting begins.

New York speed didn't take any getting used to, which is not surprising because when I'm not trying to do everything I think of, at the moment that I think of it, I am normally talking 90 miles an hour. Ask my poor dearest Mother, she has no idea what I'm on about half the time. So the speed thing works for me, it's certainly going to make London look extra old-fashioned and creaky when I get home. Do I really have to go back?

Quick someone give me a visa, I want to stay.

Men out here have a good game, well practised and well performed. They're quick to get to the point, used to women who won't even offer to put their hand in their purse after dinner. How rude American women seem, to basically sit waiting while the man reaches over to the bill and pays it, I'm not of that school, but I try not to insult the payment rituals of Americans but I feel bought if I'm completely paid for.

Yes I hear alot of you British women cry 'Take it while you can girl, British men don't want to pay for you!!'. Mind you my weeks budget lasts a bit longer if i schedule my meetings as lunches and dinners. ...

Oh and my room mate is in love, which is really lovely...until I hear the noises of love coming from the room next to my sofa as I'm drifting off to sleep. Eeeeeeewww, pass the ear muffs.

Congrats Fellow Brit Girl

My fellow British export Gurj has been suffering something New Jersey calls the 'Decamp' bus nearly every day for 5 weeks as she commutes from Jersey to Manhattan to do her thang. Now it may not sound that bad, but these buses forbid the use of cell phones...well I thought we were living in a modern world. Apparently not.

So with a big smile, I can happily say after tedious, messed up, wastes of time and space and a very long hunt for a manhattan room to rent, Gurj has landed herself a totally hot gal-pad just off Times Square. So now we can seriously get those dancing shoes on and find them hawt (gurj-ism) bwoys!!! Ah I've missed my nutty nighttime compadre!!

Let's go girl!!

Eskimo Girl

It's official, it's bloody freezing cold in New York. This city has the most random weather patterns I've ever come in contact with, one day it's blazing Autumn sunshine and we're baking, and the next I have furry boots, artic winter coat (with furry hood up) with only part of my face exposed and I'm so darn cold. Whats with that??

I guess folks, New York is welcoming it's winter time in. Oh only another 2.5 weeks to go and I can help welcome a London winter in back home. Yes boo hoo the time is racing towards me, maybe I'll get hitched to my alcohol loving Californian roomie Kevin and stay. . . maybe not. Love you Kevin, just er...not like that.

It's all Christmassy out here now, Macy's has all the crimbo decorations up and it's making me all mushy. Fuck off, I'm not buying you anything. I'm jobless don't you know?

I Am Citizen 2000

It's a strange thing to be called, yeah shut up I know - I'm a weird one too. But that's what I'm named...Citizen 2000....because I came of adult age (18) in the year 2000. What relevance this has I don't know, it might be being confusid, but that's what my mother said to me once....i think?

Kanye Roools/Dating Rules

Anytime I see Kanye West perform I always say he tops my list of some of the greatest shows I've seen. He took part in the New Life Project benefit at the Hammerstein Ballroom, New York last night along with Musiq and Common.
The benefit is aimed at ruling out homelessness, so when Kanye launched into Jesus Walks it was a little electric to say the least. Or maybe the free VIP bar upstairs had something to do with it....
Common, who's now under Kanye's wing and currently making his next album, took the roof off as soon as the entire place recognised the familiar sound of The Light. Bugger now I want to hear the song and yep, I left my Like Water For Chocolate album at home, nice one.

Today I got a brief explanation about the american way to date, what's courteous and whats just darn rude. According to most New York men on the first date the guy and gal are expected to go dutch. IF you're so lucky and get a second date, then it falls onto the man from there on in to pay the womans half as well.

Jeeeeez....I'm liking the system here, women in the UK - instill this into your sons and they will find wives faster, trust me.
Although being British and old fashioned, I still reach for my purse. What? I feel guilty! My mother always taught me to pay my way, and never depend on a man for money. I think my morals could stretch a bit out here....what? I'm on a budget you know!

Allow Me To (Re) Introduce Myself, My Name Is Mel

In case you don't know me personally, my name's Mel. I do lots of things, but it all comes back to music. I write as a freelance journalist from London, NYC to Paris, I do Special Event Co-Ordination - last project was London's Urban Music Seminar with Rocafella/Rocawear for 15,000 young people, I do Brand Management/Communications...thats me really, in short - I can run your shit, trust me.
I left London a month ago for New York, I'm a little bit bonkers but my motto is 'Why not?'. I'm young, I'm not married (*ahem* Hello American Men say those words I love to hear "GREEN CARD"), I don't have children (ah freedom) and there's no mortgage (but my credit cards feel like one). So why the fark not move here for a couple of months and try and crack the New York nut??
I've had meetings, been to parties and interviews, the least I will come home with is a way to unite some USA/UK business and that is a very good thing. Just want to keep a little slice of NYC with me back home!

American Halloween Obsession/Jigga Da Living Legend

American's definitely have some sort of nuttiness going on about Halloween, I've never seen anything like it, I'm serious. For instance the Halloween Parade downtown, the freakin most crazy thing ever, you know how we have Notting Hill Carnival? Imagine that times two or three. It's friggin huge and yes the freaks do come out, it's a license to be weird. Mind you I can talk, I dressed up as NYPD, in Mel translation thats New York Pootie Dept thank you very much, I will slap a cuff on ya wrist and drag you away, but only if you're desirable. Ha ha.

Got mighty drunk, even by my lightweight standards. I was really dancing, I really did try to arrest someone - Huey from the Fun Lovin Criminals no less. He wasn't having it, much to my disappointment and his amusement. Yes I'll put the photos up, shut up.

Mum I love you for giving me your vintage black stilletto boots - seriously cute, but seriously painful after 5 blocks, let alone the gazillion I walked on Halloween. Screaming feet, nice.

What's with Americans? Do you LIKE war?? Why for pete's sake are you re-electing an utter brainless-walking-threat-to-world-peace-man-with-criminal-record??? I'm exasperated, so let's not say another word on the subject.

Frikkin idiots.

Except those words. I'm done now.

I went apartment viewing with my British friend Gurj, she's stuck miles out in New Jersey and was viewing some rooms in Manhattan, including an interesting room for rent down my street - 9th st in the East Village. I'm being honest when I saw I've never seen anything like it, I had heard of it, but never thought I'd see a long apartment with a bath in the kitchen.
Imagine that....'Hey Bob, while you scramble those eggs can pass me the shampoo?'
Not loving that, at all. Way weird, he was a great big hippie too. Nothing wrong with hippies, he's been there for 15 years, yes in the same apartment. He must love his pseudo bathroom, maybe he goes to sleep at night and dreams of his bathroom having walls. I would if i lived there. His last room mate was a German woman, no disrespect but that says it all.

The last remotely interesting thing I have to impart upon the reader (ie only my Mother), is that Jay Z has fallen into my charts as the golden man. My roomie Kevin kindly gave me his ticket for Jay's show at Madison Square Garden last night and no concert I see after this one will ever top it, I'm not kidding. He booted R.Kelly off the bill for being a big baby, honestly the world so does not revolve around you Robert, get a grip. With one man down what would you do? Hmmm well Jay Z pretty much gathered the entire dazzling world of hip hop in one place....his friends piled out to support the Jigga man including Slick Rick, P.Diddy, Snoop Dogg, Pharrell, Mary J Blige, Ja Rule, Foxy Brown, Busta, Q Tip, Young Guns, Freeway, T.I, Fabolous and Kanye West.....pure magic and a sight to see. No one had any idea beforehand what a show or who would be present, but it was history, he did it again. He definitely smashed it.

I got to check out Jay Z's club after, by accident we walked past it on the way home, before people managed to get back from the Garden. Thought we'd see if we could get in, had no probs and half an hour later sipping a martini I looked up and there was Jay Z, strolling through his club, he headed straight to the back to his closely guarded own back room with his friends. Nice, very nice, and the leopard print curving couch was noted Jigga.

I'm out, come back for the Encore tomorrow. Geddit. Crap, I know.