so Peter Fitzsimons and me ... besties

So many hard days at work this week: Monday, a day-off for Straya Day, then came the blase hungoverness of post-Australia Day, and THEN ... oh yes ... ohhh shit ... I got to meet Peter Fitzsimons.

Now, I've been trained well by Dad (real name John, fake name Bruce) and as soon as the Saturday paper arrives I turn straight to the back page of the Sports supplement for the Fitz Files. Fitzy is actually the epitome of everything a good bloke should be - funny, smart, a sportsnut AND he's married to Lisa Wilkinson who's one of my favourite Australian women (along with Ricki-Lee and Jeanie Little, of course).

He has such a presence. For one, he's HUGE. In photos people had to stand on boxes next to him just to reach his shoulder. And secondly, he is so charismatic - in an intelligent, not sleazy, way. He had the whole crowd guffawing with laughter at his self-deprecating jokes - myself included. He is actually the bomb.

He was about to leave, when I jumped up from my desk and ran over to introduce myself in the nick of time. To set the scene, I am a lowly Editorial Trainee and he is a Neanderthal-sized Ex-Wallaby who is very busy and important with heaps of cool people to see and clever things to write about. And yet, even though he was already taking off his tie getting ready to bail on us in the office, he stopped and gave me five minutes of his time. LEGEND.

He said he didn't have long to talk, but imparted this piece of wisdom; he said, in journalism you should never feel limited by what your job title is. Editor's always want good ideas, good stories and good writing and they don't care who it's coming from. So always try out new ideas, pipe up in meetings, show people your stuff - you've got nothing to lose. Hey, it worked for him and his wife.

Then he said if I ever wanted to meet his wife (um YES!) he could arrange it.

WOW McFRICKIN WOW. The wisdom...

And that my friends, is why I love Fitzy. Boom.

such a minor

Ok, so I'm not yet technically 22. I'm still a young 'un, a minor, a teenybopping wannabe if you will...

However I doubt being 22 will suddenly transform me from being a teenybopping wannabe. And I'm totally cool with that.

I'm starting the blog early for a couple of reasons:

a) I'm hoping that if I'm pro-active in doing this, it will be a sign of wonderful things to come in twentyten and will foreshadow a year of organisation, maturity and less battlerness. Of battlerness, I know much... and I think that needs to change.

b) It was actually my New Years Resolution to start a blog, but then I got bored/busy/hungover and didn't end up making one. Then by the time I'd decided to get on board the blogtrain, I realised I had the perfect name for it "when she was 22..." (snaps to Lily Allen - my muse), and I thought I should probably wait till I actually was 22 to start the blog. But meh, I'm starting it now....

c) I have nothing to do. Actually that's a lie. I have heaps to do. I should be cleaning, or making birthday presents, or talking to my family. Actually I should be at a MOVIE PREMIERE right now. Yep, that's right, a movie premiere. But apparently it's about something really scary and sad, and basically the antithesis of a happily-ever-after romcom. And since I dont like movies with violence or yelling, I figured I'd get nightmares, so I bailed. Now, I am home alone with no roomies here to distract me. At least Andy Murray is on tv....

d) I'm a battler (See part A)

So basically - this is me starting my blog. I don't know what it will be about. Probably just my awesome life.

I speak no word of a lie when I say this - I have an awesome life. I have radical friends, a sweet job, and I can tell you many happy stories about my fam. I have no reason to be shitty at anything, really. The crux of this rant is - this should be a happy blog.