Consigned to history

So, that's an episode of my life that I can now consign to history.

For four months I had to sit on the knowledge that I'd won the Weakest Link and stew horribly about the how the edited version of my efforts would emerge.

Then, last Friday, the show was finally aired and I watched it with Jac and the kids, with the DVD recording dowstairs and a back-up VHS whirring away upstairs.

Overall, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I looked balder and jowlier than I'd hoped - but that's a result of being 42 not 22. I had a cold when the programme was recorded back in June, and I sounded quite hoarse which, seeing as I really don't like my voice anyway - hardly helped.

I also pulled weird facial expressions when I answered questions - so it's definitely a career as a keyboard warrior not a TV personality for me in the future.

But....I won.

I've been a media wannabe for ever, and here I actually surpassed expectations and landed a prize. Okay, so it's a daytime TV quiz where the prize fund is definitely secondary to the banter with Anne Robinson. But I did it, and came away with a cheque.

Now there's absolutely no mystique or chance to rest on one's laurels after the event. The show's finance administrator wrote out my cheque while dispensing everyone's travel expenses. There's no trophy to take away or celebratory drink with Anne and the crew. It's a quick wrap, and I found myself on my own in the Pinewood film studios' car park.

It was a beautiful sunny evening. I rang home and my heart absolutely soared as I told Jac my good news and she relayed it to the kids. Rory's squeal of delight down the phone made it all so worthwhile.

Last Friday evening was nice: big hugs from Laura-Beth and Sophie; a couple of congratulatory texts, a few emails and phone calls - and a very nice bottle of Dom Perignon Vintage 1996 that we'd been saving for a while.

So, I've had my Warhol 15 minutes and now it's back to grim reality.