Titles I bear in 2010.

It's been almost a week since I posted last, but I have a good reason for my silence, which I will get to in a moment.

In the last couple of months, three roles have been thrust upon me which have taken over my personal space, my bank account and my life. In 2010, for the first time ever, I am a bridesmaid and I am an Aunt. Allow me to share with you my experiences so far...

Auntie Mel.

When Ebony and I first went to visit our one day old nephew earlier in the week, Ebony said that "we're aunts now. It's time to start growing whiskers." I disagreed with her interpretation of what it means to be an aunt. I see myself more as the hot aunt that my nephew will someday develop a creepy infatuation for.*

In my experience (four days worth), nephews are pretty much the shiz. You can stop anyone to show them photos, ANYONE, and they HAVE to stop and look for as long as you want to keep them, and they have to say how gorgeous the photos are. Imagine doing that with pics of your Friday night shenanigans out with the guys. No way, José. It's not going to happen. But the moment you pull out a phone full of photos of nephew, you have a captive audience.

I'd like to take this moment to apologise to the Target employee, baby supply shop keeper and Rotary Lodge receptionist, each of whom I made look at about 50 photos of my nephew, in all of three positions, because babies are interesting like that.

More things to love about being an aunt; you get to max out your credit card in the most fun way imaginable. Fun, because it's practically guilt-free. Also fun because you're only the aunt. you get to buy the fun stuff like size 00000 onesies, and avoid the gross stuff like maternity pads and stretch-mark cream.

Now, without further ado, allow me to present my nephew, Keedan Jeremiah Evans, born to Bethany and Todd, 10th of May, 2010.

*heart*

Mel the Bridesmaid.
Regardless of what the wedding magazines and Katherine Heigl movies would have you believe, being a bridesmaid is about two things:

1. The swag. I'm in free crap paradise. Dress, shoes, purse, bling, and a black fur stole which, as soon as the wedding is over and done with, will become my grocery-shopping, knitting and relaxing-with-a-good-book uniform.

An appropriate clothing choice, I felt.

2. The upper-body strength. Of all the skills required to be a bridesmaid, none are so essential as the ability to strap that bride into her corset-back dress so tightly you hear ribs crack. You think I'm joking? Those dresses are an exercise in strength and endurance, and not just for the wearer. I was not aware of this, but I'm glad I am now, because it means that when I'm looking for bridesmaids I know to make my selection based on bicep diameter. I'll choose my maid of honour by which of my girlfriends can bench-press the most.

Mel the Blogger

I write and people actually read what I say AND comment. I'm constantly blown away that my little place has 77 followers. I'm not sure how that happened, but I'm so very grateful. You guys are the bestest readers a girl could ask for. *heart*

I'm especially humbled because I am such a flake of a blogger. I make a lot of promises I don't keep. But I promise you I'm going to get my act together. To date, I believe I owe you:

1. A vlog, and
2. some secrets

They are on their way. Cross my heart..

*I'm joking. It was a joke. Relax.