So its been a weird week but do not judge me on what you are about to read!
To start, Monday took me on, quite frankly, an odd and disturbing trip. So to give you a back story, coming up from next week, I shall be filming (presenting) a new Music show. As preparation for this, the director decided it would be brilliant team bonding experience for my co host and I to go on a Bear Grylls Survival course. Not sure of the particular relevance, we reluctantly did it any way. This involved firstly covering ourselves in mud so the hypothetical predators couldn't smell us. May I also mention, this all took part in a field of horses, so I'm sure it was not just mud that we were rubbing on our faces. Then, mudded up, we did some hard personal training. Which taught me very quickly, that you can be thin and have muscle tone but by no means does that make you fit!
Right, next up was 'building a shelter', which we had to do out of the random wood strategically placed throughout the field. Shortly followed by building a fire for warmth. Not particularly enjoying the course thus far, it wasn't until lunch time that I realised it could get a great deal worse!
The wishful thinking and hoping for maybe a sandwich, even some crisps to be provided, could not have been further from the truth. The survival instructor turned to us and said "right, it's lunch time guys" and then threw a dead squirrel at me. This was then accompanied by the phrase, which still haunts me, "prepare it!". At this point I just turned away and left my co host to take over. Just so you know the squirrel was already dead and shot on a farm nearby as a pest, its wasn't shot specifically for our entertainment!
After 15 minutes of my co presenter Callux (bless him) de heading, cutting off the feet and skinning it, I knew there was no way I was going to eat it! To not make myself look like a total wuss, I thought i'd better step in a make an effort on prep now that it looked less likes cute pet. Not knowing i'd picked the completely wrong point to step in! I then had to gut in. I wont go into too much detail but to say I was heaving whilst forcefully pulling out organs using my fingernails should cover it.
All the hard work done, we then just had to sit and watch it cook, which was really quite depressing. After that experience none of us actually ate it, we even opted out of a conventional lunch too. Next it was the more fun stuff, thank fully. Some zip line work, rope climbing and reaction training was the next port of call.
Then it was off home, or so we thought! We walked back to the conference room, where we had our induction, to see three down turned bowls. We were then asked to up turn one and whatever was underneath we had to eat. So we turned over a bowl, horrified to see a giant cockroach looking beetle, dried and I can't even describe the smell. So that was a flat out NO! So the instructor gave us one more chance to swap. Bowl two was turned over to reveal a dried locust. A mild improvement but still, no Gordon Ramsey taste explosion. I looked to my co host, he couldn't even look directly at it. So it was down to me. Feeling some one had to do it I threw the Locust in my mouth and then begun to chew. Trying to ignore the ever so loud crunching that it was making. Then it was swallowed, done! FYI it was like Weetabix.
Certificate in hand, it was then time to get on the train, covered head to toe in mud and finally go home. Where I had the longest shower I have ever had and horrifically I still don't feel clean.
So to sum it up. I'd say bonded-no, scarred-yes!
Wednesday saw me DJing at the lingerie label, Boux Avenue's Champagne launch party. Now, as it was a lingerie shop, I'm sure you can guess what the uniform was that was provided. This meant I pretty much ended up DJing my 90s tunes in my bra and pants. Oh and before you judge, I did have a beautiful knitted dress over the top but unfortunately I didn't cater for the fact the cameras would have some serious flash on them. Meaning I just had to grin and bare it, literally, and see my pretty much naked arse plastered on the daily mail the next day. Luckily the champagne was flowing, which definitely helped!
Thursday saw me heading to the Converse sneakerboot winter bonfire party. Which as you can tell by my photo completely blew me away. There were fireworks, a bonfire, balloon fights and extreme bingo. But my favourite part, most of all, other than the free bar, was the photo booth. At most of the fashion parties I attend there is always a photo booth. Reason one, it is good for the brand to get the pics of the attendees there, having fun and getting involved. Reason two, we are all so vain these days that we want to document those photos for ourselves.
The best surprise, was that it wasn't just any normal photo booth. It was a man holding a leaf blower to my face, while his colleague took a snap of the sheer G Force deforming my skin. I'm not one to brag but I think my blowie went rather well.Suggest a correction