That Bridget Jones, she's all right in my book

That's right, I'm a Bridget Jones apologist. No one was more surprised than I to realize it. I blog about it on my site.

On a completely unrelated note, it strikes me (with a dull, echoing thud, as most things do) that now that we're mostly roughly assembled, perhaps introductions are in order? It goes without saying that we all rock, but that might be all some of you know about each other. I'm not even sure how much some of you know about me, other than my recent public confession that I peed my pants.

A few barebones facts:

• raised in semi-white-trashy rural eastern Ontario on my parents' dairy farm
• middle child, with an older brother and sister and two younger sisters
• noisy, insane family probably responsible for escapist, book-nerdish tendencies
• received BA in English from mediocre southern Ontario university (and met my dashing future husband at same)
• moved cross-country to get masters degree in publishing at less crappy university (completed coursework, but got cool job and lost interest in thesis, alas)
• have been much luckier than deserved in always getting jobs in editorial field (have worked as book editor, magazine editor, web editor and TV editorial producer)
• have been even luckier in recently spawning super cool baby boy, Sam
• currently seven-twelfths the way through one-year maternity leave and loving it, even despite occasional cabin-fever-induced flirtations with insanity
• have three pets with varying levels of desperate neediness: 14-year-old tabby, Puck; four-year-old Portuguese water dog, Dobbs; and ?-year-old rescue tabby, LuLu
  
• am good at: spelling, swimming, belly-dancing, decorating, and baking cookies
• am bad at: organized sports, singing anything involving high notes, talking to strangers, and basic cooking

How's that for a start? And now if my man ever leaves me, I've got my personal ad all ready.