August 3rd - Olympic Note

I am not an attention-seeker. (Cue scoffs from people who think they know me well. To which I reply, I am someone who loves attention while often being too shy to seek it out, which is quite a different thing). Anyway, the point is, yesterday I went to the Olympics where I found myself wearing a large plastic Union Jack - a gift from the nice British Airways people hanging round the final turning to the velodrome. (There are lots and lots of nice people all around the Olympic site - inside and out. For that alone, a trip there is life-changingly extraordinary). So there I was, draped in my flag and grinning to myself (I was going to watch CHRIS HOY and VICTORIA PENDLETON after all) when I was approached by first one TV crew (from America), then another (from Australia), asking for sound-bites about the day, the cycling, the Olympics. Two more interviews (with BBC radio) followed immediately after the tremendous sprint final for the gold medal, when - it has to be said - my flag-flinging delight had reached new eye-catching heights. That made for a grand total of four invitations to speak into a microphone. Four separate opportunities to stand out and be heard. I wish I could say that I rose to them all with aplomb, blowing away my interviewers (and potential audiences) with pithy, original utterances. I am a 'wordsmith' after all. Words are what I DO. But instead I could summon nothing but platitudes - all the phrases you think you would never be dumb enough to say - albeit delivered with the wildest enthusiasm.

The crushing verdict of my twenty three year old son afterwards was: "Mum, you were like a deranged seven year old". Apologies then, if anyone saw/heard me. I am thinking of keeping my head down for a while. But oh my goodness I enjoyed myself.