...a radio whiz

You may, or may not, be aware of the fact that you are reading the blog of the next Jo Whiley/Sara Cox/Annie Mac. Yes, I am on my way to the upper echelons of the media broadcasting world with only my discerning wit and raw talent for company. Soon the words 'Georgia' and 'Robson' will not have to be mentioned consecutively in order for you to know that it is moi who is the topic of conversation. Radio will never be the same again, and all will be dwarfed by my presence.

Orrrrrrrr, not.

I had you all for a second though, didn't I?! Where did I lose you? Was it at the words 'next Jo Whiley'? Or did you teeter on for a bit, get to 'upper echelons' and realise I was pulling your proverbial leg?

Let's be frank about this - I am not the next bigshot radio presenter. That's that.

I do, however, have a radio show. It is in its infancy, and just like a new born, it should bring me joy and fulfillment but actually only brings me sleepless nights, shed loads of worry and a hell of a lot of work. You see having a radio show - in theory - is marvelous. Yet, in reality, only when you have a team of producers/technicians around you pulling levers and pressing buttons and keeping you on track, a plethora of willing guests, and a good few millennia of experience under your belt does the theory actually match the reality. Until then, the fear of hosting your on show, during which you have to be constantly engaging, entertaining and technically 'on-the-ball' is completely paralysing.

I have had two shows up till now, the second being the worst, suprisingly. My first show was a melange of nerves, bad song choices and a motley crew of guests (and when I say guests I mean reluctant mates who I dragged into the studio to act as human lifeboats, just in case the show started to go under). I had one email into the studio during the whole show, which was from one of my guests who had escaped and made it back to the safety of his own home. The excitement of this email was soon dampened by the fact it was him and not a rogue listener who had tuned in to hear my dulcit tones on air. Oh well, at least it was an email. My second show was devoid of any form of outside communication.

The second show which aired just yesterday (the experience is still quite raw) had similar aspects to the first. Nerves were present, bad songs choices in abundance (I blame this on the nerves as never in my own time would I sit and listen to the drone of The Bangles', Manic Monday) yet there was a severe lack of guests. In fact, there was a severe lack of people in general - I was a lone wolf for the duration of the show and it was a harrowing experience; hearing your own forced laughter echoing of the walls of the empty studio and rattling through the corridors is a real atmosphere killer. Anyway, I did my best to emulate some sort of energy and engagement with the listeners. Well, I would of, had there been any. Yes, this week I didn't even get ONE email. Nor did I get a text or a tweet. No one commented on my content; no one offered up a shout-out or a high-five for the good work; It was a one way road in a deserted land.

It was a humbling experience.

The show must go on though and so it did. I stumbled my way around the buttons and switches, deciding this week to bring in my own laptop to use as well as the two computer screens and switchboards I already had to manage (good one, Georgia). There were errors and stutters and a whole array of technical blunders, but I made it to the other side and live to tell the tale.

The feeling after the show is euphoric. I literally feel like I am flying - I MADE IT THROUGH!!!!!! And yes, I make mistakes but never as many as I allow myself to imagine I might make before I go on air. If I'm honest, it is all worth it for that post-show high. I cannot wait for the time when I am completely in control of all those buttons and levers and could conduct the show with my eyes closed (if the need arose); I eagerly await the day that I have guests queuing at the door to come on air with me and I will think back to these days as a rookie presenter, and throw my head back and laugh at the inexperienced me.

Until then though, I am quite content to put up with the sleepless nights and worrisome days...as long as I get some bloody emails.