I'm a natural blonde.
And not as tall as I'd like to be.
I don't think honesty is always the best policy.
I used to be able to speak Swahili.
I can't any more - there's little opportunity to practise in the Home Counties.
My favourite film is Closer.
Other titles in the top ten include Finding Nemo and Stardust.
I play the flute.
I'm petrified of spiders.
I'm a vegetarian.
But only because I can't stand the taste of meat.
One of my earliest memories is the time my cousin fell into a duck pond. He stank.
I have no idea what my father's job entails.
I own, but can't play, a kankleš.
I'm rather a spelling and grammar Nazi.
I don't like Marmite.
I went to an all girls' school.
Yes, there were water fights. And there was an incident in pyjamas.
I wear glasses, but not as often as I should.
I can't abide ignorance.
I don't tan very well.
My ears are pierced.
I find good aftershave on men a real turn-on.
I'm a huge Radio 4 fan.
That includes the Sunday omnibus edition of The Archers.
I can be a frightful snob.
It's why there are certain books that, despite enjoying, I refuse to read in public.
That includes all seven Harry Potter books.
I like to think I'm easy to talk to.
I'm not a morning person.
I hog the duvet. It's been the cause of some arguments.
I'm an eternal optimist.
My life dictates that I have to be.
I can keep people's secrets.
I used to ride. Years of not doing so mean I'm now mostly elbows and knees when I attempt it.
I'm convinced my eyes are gradually changing colour.
I like to be cuddled in my sleep.
I dislike the Guardian.
I have something of an addiction to MAC.
I take to new men more easily than I do new women.
I think, in the future, I'll probably want children. Can't stand them at the moment though.
I've done some things I'm not proud of; it's taught me not to judge people.
One of my two favourite books is Les Miserables.
My tipple of choice is gin and tonic with a twist of lime.
I like my men to be manly.
My favourite Edinburgh pub shut down about a month after I left the city. Post hoc ergo propter hoc?
More often than not, my nails are painted.
I hate clubbing.
I prefer red to white wine.
I've been known to crash one computer 11 times in 40 minutes.
I don't hugely enjoy having my photo taken.
I love being kissed.
I drink Earl Grey tea.
Being a blonde PR with a penchant for shoes means that people are inclined to pigeonhole me. It's not something I appreciate.
I have an MA in Politics and IR.
There's a patch on the ring finger of my right hand that's still scarred from the time I fell into a patch of stinging nettles aged 2 ½.
I have a suspicion that I'll never live up to my father's expectations.
Edinburgh is still the one place that genuinely feels like home.
I'd love to give blood, but I'm petrified of needles. And of the sight of blood.
I think men with stubble are supremely sexy.
I don't smoke.
I've perfected the ability to laugh at myself. See 33.
The time I spent teaching in Tanzania made me fall in love with Africa. It made me feel guilty the first time I returned and went to the supermarket.
I sleep on the side of the bed that's nearest to the door.
I'm still on the hunt for the perfect pair of boots. And the perfect man. I'm convinced of the existence of the former. I think the latter may just be a myth.
But then, there's no such thing as the perfect woman either.
I sat next to Sophie Rhys-Jones at the opera without realising who she was. And we chatted all the way through it.
I would do anything for my friends.
The terrorist attacks on London didn't stop me travelling on the tube. But that doesn't mean I'll ever enjoy it.
I'm deeply cynical.
But I can be a deeply soppy romantic.
I'm much less Christian now than I used to be. It was spending time with other Christians that did it.
I cannot stand the name Wayne.
I have a tendency to put my foot in my mouth.
I'm cultivating a rather dark sense of humour.
Ischia is one of my favourite places in the world.
Home ownership is hugely satisfying.
The years I spent at university in Edinburgh were some of the happiest of my life.