Comparing myself favourably to Sandra Bullock

Or: Good grief, that photographer was good:

Woman's World article

This is the photoshoot I was not being embarassed about, and the article is in this week’s issue of Woman’s World.

It loses me all cred in certain circles, but I can defend everything I said which is not, incidentally, what is written here. I’ll post what I actually said later, because I was a very good little interviewee and gave many answers and don’t think they should be wasted : )

Also, congratulations to Reinhard on his book deal and publication!

And if you’re wondering why I appear to be cooking with mango and tomatoes, I understand that is referred to as artistic licence.

Hehehe; or, mortification and misquotes

I’m in a magazine.

More later.

Rodrigo! Rodrigo! Save me!

I make a point of reading everyday, and sometimes on weekends when I don’t want to read a book I associate with bus travel and coffee in McDonalds, I pick up odd volumes at home – Labyrinth manga, histories of King John and bound volumes of Windsor Magazine. As a result of which I am left cold by internal inconsistencies, fascinated and frustrated by introductions to books that keep sinking down in the pile of Books to Read and calling friends and saying “Oh. My. Word!”

Oh. My. Word.
This last is because the story I read this weekend was just the sort of story that Anne Shirley and Katy Carr and The Story Girl and Jo March and their friends-and-relations read and wrote and swooned over and learned through the trials of life not to write anymore. Exactly.

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