BLOG 146: Best in Breed

"I don't deserve this award, but I have arthritis and I don't deserve that either". Jack Benny

Winter is a strange time to have awards do’s. At a time of year where staying in is truly the new going out...rewards for achievement and effort in every job from Anglers to Zoologists are given out. The organisers tempt the great and the good from each industry out for the night with the promise of a free meal and a chance to show off. The great and the good are most noted of course for braving the season to attend the awards celebrate achievement in the big three:movies, music and fashion. And of course these big events are televised...so in effect, we all get to go!

And while it’s fun to sit at home and watch them on TV, anyone who has ever been to one will know that trying to eat a plate of gourmet food whilst wearing hire clothes is not the only peril that lies ahead of the attendees. Sadly these perils are televised too.

Fact is...Most award dos are awful.

Really, they are terrible. Either the organisers are so focused on the nominees they forget the guests or they are so focused on the event they forget the experience. And what is an awards do without guests and an experience?

Mainly award dos are just something to get through, so you can say you were there. (Or get into an after party... why is it after parties are planned with more foresight and care than the awards so the party is supposed to be celebrating!)

I was just sitting here thinking about some of the shockingly bad award dos I’ve been to and I realised they all have one or more of the same 8 things wrong with them.

So in the usual JaxWorld Style... here are my top eight things for organisers NOT to do if they expect me to come out to their event in the deep mid winter!

1. Do not let people think it is ok to start late

Is there anything more annoying than having chowed down on the meal, drunk all the table wine, moved into the auditorium, sat down...and all you hear is the PA squawking for the next hour requesting in ever more desperate tones that people still need to get to their seats so the ceremony can start. Frankly, having grown up with the British licensing laws I know that people can shift along pronto if they know the doors will be locked. Organisers need to tell attendees that they will lock the auditorium 15 minutes after the start time ... believe me bums will be on seats.

2. Do not forget to theme the event

Anything worse than a patchwork of awards being handed out in a hotch potch of an event? Organisers need to really look at the awards and programme them so they make sense (ie best in breed) and build up to the big one (ie top dog). It also never hurts to have a loose thread of a theme for the event to tie it all together. Especially in the auditorium. One of the best I went to was themed “The Butterfly Effect”: they ushered guests through entry doors to the auditorium and we were transported to world of light, fresh colours and flowing drapes convey the fragile beauty of a butterfly. Throughout each award winner and nominee accomplishments were likened to the Butterfly Effect idea of small acts generating great impact. Which after all is what most organisers want their event to be all about.

3. Do not waste a funny guy

A master of ceremonies should be someone who can tie the many disparaging threads of the evening together and make it flow. Someone who you look forward to hearing from between the gushing acceptance speeches. This is should be a person who can think on his feet and always have something entertaining to say. The best way to keep to people happy is to make them laugh...it is a known fact that sleeping people don’t laugh out loud. So Organisers...instead of wasting a stand-up comic as an envelope ripper...hire one to host the whole evening to keep the evening fludid and everyone awake... so the show isn't a complete dud.

4. Do not cross dress

Organisers should advise participants that it’s an awards do... not a stag party. Unless cross gender dressing is your norm...please resist the urge to present or receive an award in an outfit more usually worn by a member of the opposite sex. If any organiser requires further proof that this is an express ticket to losing your audience bear in mind that even with the Academy Awards make-up and costume department James Franco and Anne Hathaway couldn’t pull it off at Oscars. Believe me.... no one can!

5. Do not say it for longer than a minute and a quarter

I know you’d like to believe as the recipient of an award everyone wants to hear what you have to say. They don’t. They are there for three reasons. To see who loses. To wear their best outfit. To network. If you want to thank the academy...say it in six words... it takes 1.2 seconds. No need to take an hour and a half thanking everyone from the midwife to the undertaker... we know the award wasn’t entirely down to you. It's such a yawn fest when they go on and on, and apparently it's illegal to spring load a trap door to open after a minute and a quarter. Pity. But maybe instead, Organisers need to give nominees a small piece of paper, a pen and a stopwatch with a maximum 75 seconds time.

6. Do not have a musical interlude featuring non professionals

There is a reason why dancers and singers train. It’s not something everyone can do at the highest level without honing the craft. Musical interludes at awards dos are a great platformfor artistes at this level to perform and is a great treat for the guests. And yet at awards show after awards show I have had to suffer people from other professions giving it a go. (Why do footballers always want to sing and models always want to dance?) An Awards do is not the right stage for a first time stab at something you fancy giving a go. Organisers need to know that if they are booking entertainment to get the pro’s in and keep the enthusiasts out!

7. Do not let really really old people on stage

The lifetime achievement award is never a good idea if the recipient is still alive. Really old people have a lifetime of memories and have met just about everyone interesting that has ever lived.... so give them a stage...and they will tell you all about it. Every stunningly LONG moment of every stunningly long year. Lifetime to me means retrospective. Which means a lifetime achievement award should only be given posthumously. I tend to find those recipients have speeches that NEVER over run. Organisers who adopt this system all agree.

8. Do not end on a damp squib

The end should be a highpoint. It should be a finale. Organisers should think Last Night of the Proms. When that is over, the whole crowd link arms and sway while chanting ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ the rush of emotion is tangible as it envelopes the Royal Albert Hall. Where as at the Brits this year...the end was a bloke shouting “THAT’S IT... GOODNIGHT!” Organisers should draw the threads of the evening together to create a final sequence which should feel like the closing act of an opera . This should be the lasting memory the guests, nominees and winners carry out of the venue into the night.

Of course... once the awards do is over... people can get to the fourth reason why they go out on a winter’s night to suffer interminable puffery and professional camaraderie..... The After Party.

And you know what... I have nothing to add to improve on this time honoured tradition.

After Party’s is where you get to see the stuff you talk about for the next few months...or maybe a little longer!

Which reminds me of the time I saw a certain person steal the award her drunk rival had displayed on a table at certain After Party....

But hey... that’s another Blog entirely.

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BLOG 145: Beers with the Neighbours

“It's a small world, but I wouldn't want to have to paint it.” Steven Wright

Two things you really should know about me. I love beer. I love globes.

I love the fact that beer is so cold and refreshing and just perfect on its own and just perfect with every meal (except duck… just doesn’t cut it with duck). I love the fact that beer is best swigged from a bottle. (This is what gave it the edge over my other great love… wine). I love the fact I live in a beer friendly society, that has pub culture and that as a nation the friendliest thing we do is have a beer with people.

It may seem a slightly unrelated fact but I love the globe. Not the occupants or the actual planet per se… just any map of the world. I find it fascinating to look at where places are. Maybe it’s living in Europe that does it. I think when you live in just 1 of 50 countries that live cheek by jowl with each other; you get pretty curious as to exactly where your neighbours are.

Especially if you live somewhere as cosmopolitan as London where you are more likely to bump into anyone from anywhere than anywhere else on earth. I find it helps to have a mental image of where Ivittuut may actually be. So the love of beer and the co-incidence of living in the world’s most actual melting pot and knowledge of where places are… are pretty useful attributes when sinking beers in a pub in London.

And then you find yourself having a beer with someone who is from Ivittuut.

And you haven’t a clue.

Not a scoob.

El blanko.

WHERE THE PLOP IS IVITTUUT???

If you know the answer without the help of Google… then YOU are my personal hero.

I cannot believe I have a collection of globes (including one that illuminates at night), that I have replace my A1 size wall hanging of the world every time a new state is born… and this person with a distinct northern European accent says that they were born in Ivittuut and I haven’t even a vague idea of whether it is a country, a province, a city or a cowshed. I just couldn’t picture where it was… everyone else in the room was either bluffing for Britain or they all knew. My ego says bluffing. So I bluffed along too and as with all conversations in the UK, we glided away from origins and onto experience, which after all is the glue that bonds all us simple folk together.

But… guess what I did, the moment I got in.

Gaaaaaaaaaahoooooooooooooogal!!!!

And I found out where on earth Ivittuut actually was.

To be fair to myself when you think Europe you kind of think it starts at Iceland in the West and ends in Russia in the East… you kind of know it goes up North into Norway and South into Malta . You kind of forget that of the 50 countries in Europe, 5 are also in Asia… but one thing you absolutely totally forget (unless you are from Ivittuut) that there is a part of Europe that strictly speaking is in the continent of North America.

Yep. Ivittuut is in Denmark… and Denmark is a little bigger than I thought.

Denmark to me has always been a little European country to me. The bits I’ve visited the most are on the islands floating around in the sea under Sweden. (I remember being rather surprised years ago to find a chunk of Denmark attached to Germany) But never the less Denmark certainly didn’t extend much beyond my mental picture of Europe. And besides… when I last went there it sure didn’t have a town called Ivittuut as far as I know. And I’m a map geek… I should know!

Well as it turns out … for just over a thousand years… Denmark extends into what is now known as the continent of North America and is a lot further west than Iceland.

How comes I never knew that the worlds largest island with a population the around the same as the UK is a part of Denmark and Ivittuut is a town in Greenland. How could this happen without ME being informed?!

Greenland is part of DENMARK???

Greenland is in EUROPE???

People are actually from GREENLAND???

Well f**k me silver and blue…. I never knew that!

Well, once I got over the shock, this little map geek had a wonderful time looking it up. Turns out the town of Ivittuut was abandoned in the 1980’s… which was about the time the chap I was talking to moved to London! Arrrrrrrrrrrggggghhh… if only I knew that when I ran into him… there is NOTHING on the interweb to indicate why this town was abandoned, and I actually met someone from there and didn’t ask!!!

Unfortunately – as anyone who has ever lived in London will know – despite sinking a few pints and having inconsequential conversation for several hours, the chances of our paths crossing again is about zero.

I suppose the most consequential thing from that interlude will be the questions I never asked because I was to ignorant to know what they were. Because I was too busy trying to be more knowledgeable than I was.

That’ll teach me for bluffing.

So I’m coming clean now. I had no idea about anything Danish outside of pastries, Hans Christian Anderson and beer. I have totally missed my opportunity to ask probably the only person I will ever meet from Greenland anything interesting about his homeland. So.. if anyone does happen to know why a whole town closed in 1987… or why no one ever told me that Denmark is bigger than the Carlsberg factory… can you let me know?!

Cheers!

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BLOG 144: Accepting my rucksack

“Moving on, is a simple thing, what it leaves behind is hard.” Dave Mustaine

Regular readers would know I’m no stranger to the “Holy Crap!... didn’t see that coming” cycle. Things I could reasonably expect to take for granted have completely and unexpectedly perished. I’m not a particularly strong person but I’ve survived (some may even say thrived) where others in similar or even lesser circumstances have crumbled. I think the key to my buoyancy is down to the fact that I never say oh well things could be worse, smile and carry on. Sometimes you just have call it what it is and stop being so English about it. “It’s not a digging utensil…it’s a spade” as a wise man once said. Sometimes you have let people know that you are having a crap time of it in order to accept what has happened and move on.

Michael J Fox told a story in which God gathered some people who had the worst troubles in the world and told them to sit in a circle. God then instructed each to tell the gathered company about their individual troubles and how it makes them feel. God then turned each person’s troubles into a rucksack and told them to place their troubles in the centre of the circle. At the end of the meeting God told each to chose a burden lighter than his own and go back to his life. Each chose the trouble he came to the meeting with and left feeling better able to cope. The moral of this tale according to Michael J Fox is that the recognition from someone else that your burden is weighty is a freeing experience – making you able to bear the load you once thought unbearable.

It always comes as a shock when someone who has a talent is struck down with a debilitating condition. Michael J Fox, was in the prime of his career when he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. I should imagine for an actor that would be a definitive curtain call on your future aspirations – so I was surprised to hear him describe what most people would see as an affliction as a blessing. Since being diagnosed with the condition he has interacted with many who share the condition but do so without his undoubted advantages. It was only by doing this that he became acutely aware that the conditions affect on his ability to work has been much cushioned by the wealth generated during his career and the lack of knowledge people have of the condition generates fear and ignorance. He said having his acting career so brutally and publically curtailed served only to give him another stage to do something perhaps a little more worth while on. He feels going public with his condition and using his name in connection with fund raising for research and support has freed him from focusing on what Parkinson’s has taken from him. But first he had to not only admit to himself certain losses but get others to appreciate them too – it made his load lighter.

I have to admit being greatly moved by his attitude.

To get to that point you have to get others to accept the gravity of what has happened to you. Once that is achieved and the loss is recognised, you can then move to plan B. This is not a case of wallowing in your problems it’s a case of getting recognition for the losses you have to endure. It seems we have a propensity towards putting a brave face on things. It’s a very English thing to do to say, “Things could be worse” and smile and carry on. It’s almost as if you are being unnecessarily negative if you take the time out to see exactly how bad things actually are… which is daft as surely it is best to know exactly what is no longer possible, grieve for it, then move on. But repression is almost a national occupation, we do not comfortably deal with something as real as loss.

Losing something, be it your health, your job, your relationship…what ever it is…is just bloody crap, and you should be allowed to acknowledge that. You should be allowed to look honestly at what you have lost and acknowledge the fact it has gone and will not be back.

As uncomfortable as it is to go against our national character of grinning and bearing it I tend to treat all loss as a death. And like a death, I allow myself permission to grieve.

So here's the Jaxworld guide to dealing with the 'DAMN! I did not see that coming' events that result in you suffering a loss.

First you have to take personal inventory. What have you lost? What does this mean in real terms? What needs to be dealt with that is within your control? What is outside of your control? Do it on paper or on Excel it doesn’t really matter… just look at it in black and white. Trust me it’ll look less scary written down than it does when it crawls out from under the repression rock dressed up as anxiety. I don't know why but just the process of taking inventory starts to bring things under control.

Once you can see clearly what the problem is you can start to begin to accept the situation you are in. It’s important not to jump straight to finding cures to the problem before you have had a chance to accept you have a problem in the first place. You have to allow yourself to run the full spectrum of emotions that go with loss. Before you do anything allow yourself to feel anger at the turn of events. Allow yourself to make bargains with deities. Allow yourself to feel hopeless and low. These are not ‘unbritish’ emotions – these are the normal steps to letting go. It’s a cycle that is important to go through as it totally blows out all the destructive emotional debris which will stop you making daft fight or flight choices that people make when they jump straight to finding a cure.

The next stage is to get evidence that you are not alone. Of course this goes against the great British tenant of “Thou shall not be a burden” – but trust me, (it’s that circle that Michael J Fox talked of God making people sit in), you will be surprised how not alone you are. Pick up the phone and talk to friends and family and see how quickly sharing honestly what is going on with you opens others up to put their rucksack in the circle. Listening sincerely to others and being sincerely heard in return is very empowering.

It’s always at this stage that I have always found that I can finally look at my own rucksack favourably. It’s at this stage where I can say, “This is the thing that happened to me. The thing I did not expect. The thing that should have thrown me off course… but I’m still here”… It’s at this stage where realise that I actually can find the strength to handle the weight, and that I can and will accept the load.

Acceptance is NOT the same as resignation. Bearing things quietly is the favourable way of dealing (or more honestly NOT dealing) with things in these parts. But it seldom works. I don’t know why we do it! We should not be so afraid of taking ownership of the dark periods of our lives. To be able to accept that crap has happened, that crap cost you dear and you have grieved for your losses is not being negative and wallowing in the bad stuff. It is healthy to calculate your losses and talk about it – even measure your loss against other people’s problems.

Not all our burdens will be viewed somewhere further down the line as the making of us... some may, but most won't. But all eventually get viewed simply as challenges , providing we processed the losses rather than brushed the personal cost under the carpet.

You may not ever overcome your problem - but by being honest with yourself and others about what your burden entails - compared to all the other rucksacks in the circle, yours will be the one that you will choose to carry. And who knows… like an actor struck with Parkinson’s at the age of just 30 you may find it was not a weight designed to crush you .

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BLOG 143: Chase me!

"Most of what we understand about love comes from the heroes and heroines of fiction” Sebastian Faulks

It came to my attention that my romantic ideals may well be distanced from reality, when I ran away from a boyfriend when I was a teenager. We were on a wild deserted windswept west-country beach, and he said something I vaguely disagreed with. So I pulled my hand from his and trotted slowly in the other direction...convinced he would chased after me (and hopefully pin me to the sand with a show of ardour that would convince me that even for those few moments he could not live without me). Of course... he stood bewildered as I ran (in a vague facsimile of slow motion) to the end of the cove... and watched with some amusement as I briskly walked back to him (as he had the car keys... I did mention we were in the west country didn't I?... nowhere on earth does the middle of nowhere like the west-country counties of England).

I recall muttering to myself that I would sue Daphne du Maurier whose book Jamaica Inn had greatly influenced my fevered teenage imagination. Clearly real west-country lads were not indifferent to girls because they had to face the prospect of a moment without them to bring out the grand passion... they were just indifferent to girls.

Many decades later lounging in the comfort of my rather lovely (if I say so myself) sitting room in my palais de femme divorcée I recounted the tale of the beach run and how I have continued to expect to be chased after even in the face of compelling evidence to the contrary. My friend found it that evening (and STILL finds it) highly amusing, that I should be so influenced by fiction that I apply it to real life.

Whilst I always find it joyous to be the cause of a smile (or in this case outright laughter) for any of my friends... it made me wonder.

Can widely held modern romantic ideals be traced back not to the human character – but a writers pen?

No wonder I'm of kilter with real romance. Just a tour of my bookshelves reveal an awful lot of misinformation: There are just so many couples in literature whose romances are totally improbable...

Prince Charming and Cinderella - Comte de ma Mere L'Oye by Charles Perrault
Bridget Jones and Mark Darcy: Bridget Jones Diaries by Helen Fielding

Antony and Cleopatra : Antony and Cleopatra by Wiiliam Shakespere
John Proctor and Abigail Williams: The Crucible by Arthur Miller
Laurie Laurence and Josephine March: Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
Marius Pontmercy and Cosette: Les Miserable by Victor Hugo
Mr Knightly and Emma : Emma by Jane Austen
Westley and Buttercup: The Princess Bride by William Goldman

True, there is always a bit of jeopardy. No path to true love is smooth... sometimes a little death has to be suffered, but with some good old fashioned chasing and romantic tussling... every gal gets her man. (Or at least is loved so good, proper and thoroughly she can live off the memory). And that I'm afraid is a lesson learnt from fiction... that love (true love) is worth it. It has become what we understand about love.

But the lessons we girls learn through fiction often is not the authors intent. To illustrate the point I have completed a reasonably sized survey on my mates... this is what we all agree we have learnt from our top ten tomes of romantic literature....

Romeo and Juliet. (1591) William Shakespeare.

STORY: Your dad hates his dad and his mum thinks your mum is scum. You are 15, in love and NO ONE, I mean NO ONE thinks you two dating is a good idea. Add to the fact one of you is messing with drugs and the fact you BOTH play with knives... this ain't gonna end well. But wow... your boyfriend is gonna risk Daddy setting the dogs on him to break into your garden and catch a glimpse of you in your nightie.

LESSON: US AGAINST THE WORLD MAKES THE STRONGEST PUREST LOVE

Pride and Prejudice (1813) Jane Austen

STORY: You meet this guy and he is soooo rude to you. He insults your family then busts up your big sister's engagement. He can't resist telling everyone you are as common as muck. Fair dos he is handsome and rich but what an asshole. Until he has a change of heart, covers up your slaggy little sister's scandal and asks you if you are free on the same day your big sisters wedding (which is now back on) cause he thinks you two better get hitched as well.

LESSON: EVEN IF THE GUY IS THE MOST OBNIOXIOUS PRIG, GIVE HIM TIME AND HE'LL CHANGE.

The Great Gatsby (1925) F Scott Fitzgerald

STORY: Your conman of an ex wants you back. Which is a pity cause you married someone else after he binned you. But man! He will not give it up. Turns out your husband is a terrible bully and your ex has nothing else to do with his time but woo you... extravagantly. Your hubby finds out and goes ballistic at you but your ex protects you right to the bitter end.

LESSON: STAY IN TOUCH WITH YOUR EX. HE'LL BE USEFUL EVEN IF HE IS A WASTER.

The Odyssey (800BC) Homer

STORY: Your husband is in the army and hasn't been home for ages. People are beginning to think he ain't coming home – helped by rumours of tarts overseas that he has been cavorting with. You have your own problems trying to stay faithful when 108 of the countries hottest men move into your house with a view to get into your pants. It takes 20 years, but somehow rumours, available tarts and hot men do not tempt either of you to be unfaithful and finally hubby gets home.

LESSON: STICK BY YOUR MARRIAGE VOWS EVEN IF IT LOOKS DOOMED

Jane Ayre (1846) Charlotte Bronte

STORY: You have been beaten black and blue by the ugly stick. I mean you make dogs howl at the sight of your face, and you ain't rich enough to make anyone forget it. But never mind, you are quite clever so you go and work as a governess for a very handsome geezer. Apparently he married some rich beautiful west indian bird that no has seen for years...so everyone assumes he is a widow. You fancy him rotten, he's not so keen on you. But the Mrs ain't dead, she's mad as a bucket of frogs and is locked in the attic. Mad Mrs gets out and burns the house down with herself in it. Now he IS a widower... and guess what... the fire blinded him, so now he don't mind being married to you.

LESSON: UGLY BIRDS WILL GET THE RICH HANDSOME MAN IN THE END.

Wuthering Heights (1847) Emily Bronte

STORY: Oh you are hot! Unfortunately no one else in town is apart from the unsuitable mixed race moody kid you used to hang out with when you were little. Of course you don't marry him you marry someone else (he is after all unsuitable). But then … YOU die. Guess who's the only one who gets upset... yep, the mixed race moody kid. So you haunt him, drive him nuts till he does awful things to your widower then you convince him starving himself to death is a great idea because then you two can be together always. Which he does.

LESSON: ANOREXIA WILL GET YOU A HOT MAN

Macbeth (1623) William Shakespeare

STORY: Sexy old you has a husband who will do anything for you as long as you keep being sexy. Kill a king, take over a kingdom... oh and 24 pairs of Jimmy Choo's.. he'll do it all as long as you keep floating around in a negligee. He is like superman when you are about, he can do anything. Of course the moment you are not, he gets as weak as a damp lettuce and it all goes pear shaped.

LESSON: IF YOU AMP UP THE VA VA VOOM YOU MOTIVATE MEN TO GREATNESS

Gone with the Wind (1936) Margaret Mitchell

STORY: You are a little minx. You have several men on the go, and you love it. Of course there is just one guy who can see through your devious ways... and as luck would have it he sweeps you up and carries you upstairs for a good seeing to. Of course you totally mess up your marriage by being a little minx and he walks. Not that you are too put out because you'll get him back... won't you?

LESSON: MEN LOVE DIFFICULT WOMEN EVEN IF YOU ARE A NIGHTMARE!

The Illiad (800BC) Homer

STORY: Okay, you are sooo married but look young for your age. Then some people turn up to do a trade deal and one of them is a foreign prince who has brought along his kid brother. You are old enough to know better but the kid is so hot... all rippling muscles and hair that is begging to have fingers run through it. So you have a fling and your hubby turns a blind eye. However the kid gets hooked on you and you are terribly flattered. However, the next thing you know you have agreed to run away with him. And just when you were thinking of going home your rather angry hubby declares war. So 20 years of fighting breaks out. Just as well you went for such a younger guy as you were kind of stuck with him for a long while – but no worries, hubby took you back as you STILL looked fine.

LESSON: BEING A LOOKER GETS YOU OUT OF TROUBLE AND BEING A COUGAR IS OK

How Stella got her Groove Back (1987) Terry MacMillan

You are middle aged, a divorcee, a stockbroker and bored. You go to Jamaica on holiday. You get it on with a bar man half your age who thinks there are times when the vapid cuteness of a young nymph can't hold a candle to the practiced sensuality of a more mature woman. You go home, can't forget him and have him sent out to you faster than a fed-ex package. Your ex hubby don't like it, your kids even less, but who cares...at last MAMA is happy!

LESSON: NOTHING HAS CHANGED SINCE THE ILLIAD EXCEPT NOW YOU GET TO KEEP YOUR TOY!

And that's the thing... be you a little girl being read Cinderella, a school girl studying Shakespeare, an undergraduate doing a dissertation on the Homer, a commuter losing yourself in chick lit or an occupant of a seat in the theatre or cinema... these unlikely tales of love conquering all obstacle (even death) are with us. We even draw messages from these tales the author never meant!

We absorb these fanciful tales and hope that we too will live lives of such colour, that we too will weave the magic of story telling by our very existence...missing the point that our idea of love comes from people who never existed. People for whom any obstacles route to being vanquished has been worked out in advance. People for whom challenges only exist on the page.

Teenage me trotted down a beach in Devon hoping to be perused and embraced by a west-country lad who had offended me very (VERY) slightly. For a while as I ran slowly into the wind, my hair flailing behind me, the surf beating against my shins... it did feel like the most romantic moment in history. The anticipation that he was chasing behind me, blood coursing wildly through his veins at the prospect of losing such an amazing relationship...sent adrenaline straight to my heart. I thought it was kind of worth it.

Of course, as we all know... all I got out of it was a 5 minute work-out and a lift home in his car.

Over the years I've told the tale to various girlfriends to make them laugh. Easy to be self effacing as I'm no longer teenage me. I'm older and wiser and even have published romantic fiction of my own. I know the difference between fact and fiction better than most. I can afford to laugh at teenage me.

BUT.. next week has in it the day my lovely big sister refers to as 'International-Rub-Your-Relationship-In-The-Face-of-Singleton's-Day' (also known as Valentine's Day). And you know what?... There must be a little bit of Teenage Me left in there somewhere. Because I know come the 14th of February... SHE'LL still sort of want to be chased... just a little!

The JaxWorld Blog can be followed on Twitter- http://twitter.com/#!/JaxWorldBlog

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