Living the dream, just like Chantelle Houghton

And on that note, now that Chantelle and Preston are married is she Chantelle Preston? Or still Chantelle Houghton? I'd find it confusing if I were her, being Chantelle Preston and thinking of my husband as Preston Preston, which I'm sure she would. Like if I were to marry Eddy (which is his surname, real name Ian - but no-one *ever* calls him that, BTW Eddy this is purely academic) I'd be Samantha Eddy but if people asked "what's your husband called?" I'd be like "Eddy" and they'd be like "surely that's odd?"

Anyway. Living the dream. Yeah. So, my childhood dream (apart from wanting to be a trapeze artist when I was about 5) was to work at Smash Hits. I'd look at the staff in the magazine and think they were way cool. I wanted to be that cool. So anyway, as you all know, I got to work at Sugar which I ADORED and it *did* make me a lot cooler - but inside me Smash Hits was the big one. I went for an interview there just after I started at Sugar. I didn't get the job. Sniff. Then, I was scheduled in for another interview a little while back and I reckon I had it in the bag. My application was out-standing. My main man JB was the Deputy Editor and my darling Mango, the Feature's Ed. That job was mine. MINE. That's if the whole magazine hadn't crashed and burned that very week.

So yeah. My dream of working for Smash was over. Smash Hits was no more. I felt it, like the rest of the nation. But I like to think I felt it a little bit more because I was never really a part of it like I should have been...

...until now. That's right. Smash Hits is still going in Australia. And I've done two day's work there this week. GET IN! Sadly, I reckon the writing may be on the wall for this one too. The team is only three people and the mag has just gone bi-monthly (erk) but it didn't make it any less exciting. I LOVED IT. I was back where I belong - transcribing Jesse Mcartney interviews, meeting tragic girlbands, writing the music review pages and checking out the screening for the Dixie Chicks Rock Doc (no-one ever told me they were so cool. I'm trading punk for country.)

And the best bit is that I think they loved me. They've asked me back next week. So the moral of the story kids, is to never give up on your dreams. If you want something that bad it'll happen. Bleurgh.