Jun 17, 2008 12:00
Am off to the houses of parliament, to a reception hosted by MP Charles Walker for the zoos cross-party group. We're supposed to be meeting and greeting, and talking about what important things zoos are to the UK economy, which they are, but all I can think about it that I won't reckognise anyone but Mr. Walker himself, because I met him last year, and that OMG! HOUSE OF PARLIAMENT. HISTORY!
Yes, I will be an efficient representative for my company, honest.
Mind you, this year has got to be better than the time I went two years ago with my cleavage of mass distraction. I had ironed my dress wrongly, and noticed in the taxi that my boss wasn't looking at me at all, even when he was speaking directly to me. My capacious bosoms were pretty much there on a plate for everyone to see. Oops. Combined with my 3 inch heels, it put my breasts on view for every man in the room. Luckily, getting out of the cab at St. Stephens' gate, my colleague found a teeny tiny safety pin, which was enough to salveage a bit of my dignity, but not enough to stop the great and the good talking directly to my boobs.
Hopefully this time they'll converse with me, and not a relatively unimportant part of my mammalian physiology.
me,
funny,
body,
work