So, this week I hot-tailed it to fancy London for a big awards ceremony.
It's all a bit dull, but trust me when I say that in the industry I work in these awards are the thing. It's kind of a s good as it gets, and winning is seen as a big deal.
I jump on a plane in the morning from Lyon to the glorious Heathrow Terminal 5. After years of being embarrassed by Heathrow and its lacklustre, shabby, grotty terminals - is this how we want the world to first experience the UK? - I am finally thrilled to arrive at a modern, well-designed, spacious, airy terminal.
Who cares if people don't get their bags, I was hand-luggage only and admiring the architecture.
Anyway, I rock up to the fancy schmancy hotel in Mayfair where the awards are being held. It's all a bit over the top in the way that Mayfair 5 star hotels do so well. I had a £6 cup (sorry, pot - much better value) of tea in the salon, and waited for my colleagues to show.
We work our way through the champagne reception, through the glad-handing and air kissing. We munch away at the the lovely rack of lamb and petits fours. We sit and watch as the winners in the 'junior' categories go and get their prizes.
Now, I've never been a big fan of these events, but this year it seemed that I was nervous. I'd written a great entry and presented it well to the 'dragon's den' of judges. But still, we were up against some big names with very big budgets. Companies that can throw a million at this type of event just to make sure they win.
Nonetheless, as the dinner went on and the time for my category came, I got my lovely colleagues to practice 'Oscar faces' with me. You know, the ones that Hollywood stars pull when they don't win but need to look like it doesn't matter? I wasn't very good at this.
They read through the nominees and there I was.
Jesus wept, I started to feel sick. No, it was more than sick. It felt like I was having a stroke or fainting, or maybe just a minor cardiac incident.
Third prize and second prize were read out. As they opened the envelope for the winner, I truly thought I was going to pass out.
And the winner is....
Yes, it was me. I'd won.
Stunned and short of words I accepted the prize, had my photo taken and amazingly, I didn't collapse.
I sat on the plane home that night, with my certificate in a frame, business cards from well-wishers in my pocket and a commitment to updating my CV in my head.
I've never really won anything like it before, never had my hard work recognised in such a public way before. It was bizarre, unnerving, fabulous and all a bit of a shock.
Finally, I know why Gwyneth Paltrow cried.