Self-Description: Girl-next-door meets Godzilla. (What are you looking at me like that for?) For the most part, I would say I am friendly, but lately I seem to have gotten a lot of people asking me if I am Irish. (And while that's great if you are, I am not.) So, my normally cheerful demeanor has turned a little snippy from time to time when I gently correct them by saying. "Close. But actually I'm Welsh." Jeez.
Interests: Horseback riding on the island during the summer, reading non-fiction in front of the fire in autumn, Englishmen, the Nike of Samothrace, M.B. C-class, Levi's 501's, the Economist, black coffee, Litchfield Avenue in Kew, Steve Martin films, Peter Cox, Monty Python, big white floppy garden roses, David Gray, Meteorology, bass guitar and percussion, Concierto de Aranjuez, anything from Kenneth Branagh, almond croissant, Dido, Aqua Libra, the Kelmscott Chaucer, sushi and a cold Kirin lager, Caspar David Freidrich, 'Whose Line Is It Anyway?', Tate Britain, white raspberries.
More Info: Hopelessly Romantic. Diabolically Picky.
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