A quick note on my colleagues: they are all cool, daughters and sons of Ernesto El Che. Hasta la revolucion, siempre!!

Daytwo is over .. kinda well chuffed, no tantrum, no havoc, everything is under control.

In fact. hold on a sec. Something happened. The TWO MOST GORGEOUS GUYS* wanted to change their tickets. Sorry luv, no possible, fare conditions apply, but WHO CARES? U are the MOST GORGEOUS CREATURES IN THIS TERMINAL** RIGHT NOW. wow. I really really wanted to change their PNR. Book a couple of seats, FXF, the MCO trallalla. No problems. But I cannot. FQN's fault, not mine. But you are still so damn gorgeous! Actually, what about STAYING in London for a couple of days instead of leaving earlier?? Free accomodation and breakfast.. at mine, of course. interested?no?

--> Action plan to be included in 2007-2008 P4P: set up secret web cam to film gourgeous pax. And the ugly ones,just for a laugh (eheheheh).

Coming soon: GP learning curve, some checking-in skills developping plan and more random connaissances on site..

* Du style: Brad Pitt and not-so-gorgeous-but-still-friggin-hot twin brother
** Not 100% accurate: as no beauties scanning machine dispo yet in terminal two (but already ordered via Intralignes, delivery date TBC)

Day one - the d day. I did it, I did it.Let's just start by saying that the force was with me.
Smiling to people I was.
Friggin' stressed out I was.

It all went well. I survived, that's the main thing...

7am - Alarm goes off. In fact, it's not that early, but I am friggin tired already innit. (already... -wait until I have to get up at 3h30 AM!).

7h30am - make up procedure... that involves: painting my visage with all sorts of couloured creams and masKaras and lipstick that will last for 22 hours and nail varnish and powders...(got any insect repellent spray luv?)

8am - My first journey to the airport. Destination: London Heathrow terminal 2. This time is to take a flight that will last for a year, not just an hour or so (if it's not delayed, that is). ready to take off?

Loads of things happened today.. but where shall I start? Shall I just try to describe how I felt when I was left all alone on MY OWN at the ticket counter when there were AT LEAST 20 people queueing in front of me? Or shall I just tell the story about the poor girl who could not get to Johannesburg because she didn't have any VIRGIN pages in her passport? Maybe the story about that famous one *** who could not be bother to use her CDG-LHR boarding pass and got to LON on her OWN PRIVATE JET.. which meant.. loosing her luggage? (ops).
busy day busy day.
What can I say?

Not much, I am just 'una matricola' as we used to call people on their first year at university.. (aka loosers)