My hand slightly trembled as I signed the contract placed before me and I couldn't figure out whether it was the 5 Albums that made me nervous (which would probably equate to the next 15 years of my life) or the fact that everyone in the room was about to witness my appalling signature, that was the one thing I didn't practice in my bedroom in front of the mirror.
note:check out the awful autograph
The Sterling Silver pen which I held in my hand felt like the china your Mom only brings out at Christmas; saved purely for special occasions and an obvious extravagance. The distinct immaturity of my legible autograph sat on the dotted line with glaring mediocrity. I always felt like it wasn't a household name unless it was coming from my Mothers mouth and at full voice. Of course my name wouldn't feel that way to me, it was me, I grew up with the darn thing and actually remember hating it so much as a child. It didn't seem to have the popstar ring to it like my idols...Whitney Houston, Aretha Franklin or Striesand it sounded significantly boring...or at least to me it was anyway.
Once the papers were signed by all parties involved it felt like I could breath again, everyone shook hands and champagne flutes were raised. The deal was DONE!
Now, we could get down to business.....hopefully.
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