Last night Vicki and I had an interview with a jounalist in Australia who is writing an article about our book for a Sydney paper. But, due to logistics, she interviewed us separately at different times. The funny thing is, that usually when we talk about the book we're together, I mean we spent 24/7 together for five days when we crash wrote the majority of the book. So it was a little weird to be talking about the book without Vicki there to give color commentary. I have to admit, I just loved talking to Daphne, the journalist, and not because I love talking about the book (although I do) but because her accent was so lovely. As soon as Daphne and I hung up I called Vicki to see how her interview went, and before I could even say hello she was giving me her version of what an Australian sounded like, to which I responded, "And toss another shrimp on the 'barbie!" Sad, the only Australian I know is from outdated Crocodile Dundee movies.

Anyway, my agent sent this to all of her clients today. So funny. You've got to watch it if you want some idea of what it's like to send your agent or editor a piece of writing and then await their feedback. The guys in the video have an accent, too. Total bonus.

I am afraid of snakes. As in so afraid I don't want to be in the same house as one, no less the same room. My family is well aware of my complete and utter freaked-out-ness around snakes. I never had a bad experience with snakes, wasn't raised to fear them, but I do. Give me an animal with fur and legs, no matter how big, and I can deal. But don't give me the smallest snake in the world. I can't even get near worms (but that may have something to do with Greg Burke putting a worm down my shirt in third grade).

So at our neighborhood block party saturday night, I was sitting in our neighbor's kitchen just hanging out by the island. When my daughter came up behind my and said, "Mom, I have something for you," I certainly wasn't prepared for that something to be placed across my bare shoulders and wrapped around my neck. And I certainly wasn't prepared to look at the thing she'd placed there and see a yellowish-brown snake about three feet long. Well, let me tell you, the entire party knew what happened. I freaked out. As in heart racing, limbs shaking, absolutely panicked to the point of going ballistic. I stood up screaming, attempting to get this thing off my shoulders, touching this disgusting thing and just trying to get loose. Yes, I was yelling, "Get it off!" Finally it dropped to the ground. And that's when I noticed everyone staring at me like I was absolutely insane. It was a fake rubber snake.

Now, I didn't know whether or not these people had a snake, but I had no reason to think they wouldn't. And I wouldn't put it past my daughter to think it was funny to do that. She certainly didn't think it was funny after I told her 73 times, "That isn't funny!" From here on out I shall be known as the neighborhood lady who lost her shit over a fake snake. But I guarantee my daughter will never put a plastic snake near me again.