Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Friday, January 12, 2007

The Glitz, The Glamour

Recently I was nominated in the Pink Paper's Readers Awards in the Category of 'Best Blog'. Prior to the nomination, I never heard of this particular award, but I was still flattered and honored to be included alongside such luminaries as Matt Damon, Helen Mirren and the Mazda MX5.

Held in the glamorous surroundings of Forest Hill's Harvester restaurant, where they'd gone to great lengths to hide the plastic tablecloths and 'Please Don't Let Your Child Play On The Fruit Machine' signs with perky displays of foxglove and baby's breath. I'd braced myself for swathes of paparazzi on the entrance, even smearing myself in Avon's Non-Shine Foundation Whip, but to no avail, so I just got my partner for the evening, the Boy, to run around me a few times with an Instamatic and annoy some of the other guests before taking my place alongside my fellow bloggers.

And I have to say, though I'm terribly biased, ours was certainly the best-behaved table, or certainly the best dressed. All I shall comment about the 'Best Sports Group' was there was a terrible wiff of Lynx and TK Maxx, even though my paper napkin. And bless the table for 'Best Clubs in the Midlands or East' - they turned up in an awful lot of man-made fibers, which made for daring and compelling viewing whenever one of them reached over the candle centerpiece for a low-sodium cracker dip. Oh and all the girls from 'Best Lesbian Gift Shop' - the shoulder-pad-blazer-on-a-woman-look went out with Coke Tab and Jan Leeming's first nervous breakdown.

Still, I did notice the Ladies What Lick had made an impressive set of shelves out of the breadsticks during the category of 'Best Moisturiser to Use After Waking Up in a Gutter After Being Kicked Out Of G-A-Y at 4am'. Perhaps it's like magpies building nests - they just can't help themselves when they're near any construction material.

There was a bizarre mixture of camaraderie and tension between all us fellow bloggers, where we'd generously ask each other questions like what was used to power their blog (a lot of polite laughter when I said 'vodka') and what the hit count was, each inflated by ten-thousand each. But there were also a lot of fixed grins and false hand-holding, rather like a Miss Teen USA competition where you can tell they're just dying to rip out each other's false nails. Which would make for fair more entertaining telly, I know. But I resolved to thank each and every other person on the table when I went up to accept the award.

I leaned in close and asked if the Boy thought I was over-dressed, but he said no. A full-length satin dress was de regur for any awards ceremony, even if we were next to a ball pit and an indecent amount of child's spit-up on the floor. So I pulled up my satin opera gloves and politely applauded the next category, lost in a whirl of possibility. As it got to our results, I could think of nothing I'd want more than that A4 laser-printed award in an Athena clip-frame, and how gorgeous it would be above my desk next to the signed Kate Mulgrew and diagram of the security system of Ryan Reynold's house. I could think of nothing else I needed from life, other than to be on the stage there with my fellow nominees in our swimsuits, being asked by Richard Arnold what five words best sum up our personality. I was away in my reverie and lost in a beautiful fantasy world, rather like that in Buck's Fizz's video for 'The Land of Make Believe', and the Boy had to keep nudging me to applaud.

All too soon it was time for our category; every other entry had a little video clip accompanying the nomination played out on a portable television (though why everyone hissed and booed when Rosie O'Donnell appeared seemed a little harsh I thought) but clearly we, as bloggers, had no television presence so they were content to flash up candid snaps nicked from each of our Flickr accounts. I'll never forgive them for using that one of me cackling so hard you can see the bagel sticking to my back teeth, but the Boy thought it summed me up perfectly: always laughing at my own jokes and completely Jewish with money. I shunned him slightly and smoothed down my dress, ready to walk graciously to the stage.

So you can imagine my surprise when I wasn't named as winner.

I can't remember who came first, I was still in shock. I recall wondering what sort of a name is that for a blog and you'd never get it in a search engine for love nor money. What had happened was Glitter for Brains was voted second out of the group - and then the Zen-like state descended upon me: I'd come second in a national blogging contest. Second, out of all those people who write marvelous and clever blogs which I still think are ten-times better than mine. I whispered a silent thanks to every one of the readers who had taken the time to vote for this garishly pink blog, and beamed a smile.

We decided we wouldn't stay for the rest of the categories: oddly I didn't care much to find out who was the winner in 'World Sexiest Woman'. So the Boy escorted me down the stairs and out of the front doors.

"Are you disappointed?" he asked, clutching my hand.

I breathed the night air in a bit. "A little. But nothing a family tub of Haagen-Dazs won't fix."

"You'll get spots."

"Fuck it. It's a blog, no-one sees you anyway."

"Well. Gold screams success," he said philosophically. "Silver whispers it," and we had a jolly old laugh about seeing Martina Navratilova sitting on the floor and eating with her fingers.

I paused on getting into our taxi, hand on hip. "You know. Maybe it's really like a beauty contest, and if the winner is unfit, the second place has to carry out their duties..."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," I said. "Back in a minute."

"Lee," he said sternly as I gently placed down my Dior handbag and ran back through the doors in my heels. "Lee! Get back here! And put that ice sculpture down of Moria Stewart! You're only going to get into serious trouble..!"


Paully said...

You wuz robbed!

But hearty backslapping congrats, dear heart! You certainly deserved your evening in the limelight. Or, at least, in the Forest Hill Harvester. I've spent many a delightful second there, waiting and watching for the rugged, working-class dads to get served at the bar. It's like free porn - which I know would of course not interest a delicate lady like yourself. :)


mr null said...

You're number 1 to us ;-)

wagibson said...

Oh no, say is isn't so, I even voted for you.

Anon Dirty said...

Demand a recount. No, really. It'll make for a fantastic series of entries if you actually throw your toys.

Tim said...

I hope you smiled graciously and looked extremely pleased for the winner, just like they do at the Oscars before launching into a colourful expletive-strewn tirade as the cameras pan away.

Well done anyway. You've definitely won the award for pinkest blog ever. I raise my glass to you!

Mr J said...

your blog is my favourite my dear.
you dont need no skanky award.
Still, I voted for you

Nomes said...

I'll still read ya!

Inexplicable DeVice said...

Oh, Bravo! Congratu...


Oh. Sorry. Tim raised his glass and I happened to be under it - I think I downed half a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc before I realised what had happened.

I've never even heard of the other contestants. You are the only one for me, anyway, so Bravo again!

morgalou said...

I smell vote-fixing.

Is it any consolation if I highly recommend the dvd extras for Blade: Trinity? (In the highly unlikely event that you've not found them already...)

You can freeze-frame Ryan Reynolds working out......

Ms C Qrisp said...

Outrageous! That's the last time I buy The Pink Paper!

Qenny said...

What morgalou said (about vote-fixing rather than Ryan Reynolds, although I'll be off to find Blade:Trinity and some man-sized tissues just as soon as I've finished typing this comment).

With Hammer And Tong...The LetterShaper said...

I could not help but smile at the name of your blog; now I am glad it drew me in. Very much enjoyed my stay...

Miss Mish said...

I think the correct etiquette is to smile charmingly and say "It's an honour just being nominated"

Then wait til they're all under the table (or each other and nick the award. A bit of tippex and a photocopy later and it'll look great hanging over the desk....
(but you wuz robbed)

Lee said...

You're all too kind. I'm wiping my eyes and consoling myself with a family sized bag of M&Ms.

Not really. Awards are fleeting, but chocolate binges haunt you *forever*.

But like I say, thanks for voting, every one of you.

Owen Blacker said...

I was going to leave a witty comment, but Google / Blogger ate my words.

Suffice to say boo! But just remember second place is just as good as first, but without all the hassle of getting up before lunchtime to do all that nasty publicity bollocks.

Spike said...

What Mr J and Device dear said. I never heard of them other buggers.

Spike said...

Them other blogger buggers not them other commenter buggers. I left my brain in the pub.

Jemima said...

I've always felt silver was waaay more tasteful than gold.

You have the moral victory, probably, you have better visitors ;-)

Holly Bernice Cox said...

I am so jealous of your adopt a ceelbrity idea I am gonna be sick. I'm adopting Rupert Everett calling him "Prisoner" duct-taping his gob and feeding him viagra.I am not a blogger so had to steal my "innocent daughters I.D . I use wordpress , well you would wouldn't you ..