Cleo Twyford is dodging minor disasters, indulging in chick chat and wielding random insignificant theories. (And talking about herself in third person)
Note to self #1
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Don't talk to dogs using dopey doggy voice when there are other people around, particularly handsome ones. Sigh.
Yesterday I was on a plane. I sat next to a man who had a quite serious looking book to read, so I was trying to hide the fact that I was reading very girly 'Jane Austen Book Club'. Only it seems I didn't do a very good job of hiding it since he points to an article in a magazine and says "hey they are making a movie out of your book!"
I'm not sure if Amy Tan means her readers to think her book Saving Fish from Drowning is based on a true story communicated by a dead person through a psychic, but, I mean, that's the story she tells in the foreword. Anyway before I am able to check the veracity of the story (And discover that it's all made up), I tell four people ... that is mislead four people ... including an actor I saw in a play at a theatre in Sydney, which was funny because he'd just been to Burma, where the action in the book takes place. I hope the temple of Female Genitalia really exists because I assured him it did. (Although there was a long uncomfortable silence in the group of people when I asked him if he'd been there)
This blog is blathered by a 30-something constant bridesmaid sometimes known as: Cleo Twyford Who trips over a lot in: Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
About Me: Confession: I am really bad at reverse parking
Confession 2: I have an inner Evil Bridesmaid Confession 3: I have mastered fridge-grazing as a meal option Confession 4: There is a committee in my head and sometimes they are loud. Yes, okay you can shut up now. I said shut up. Sorry about that. See my complete profile
