In my book there are three types of achievements. The first is the type that you can be proud of because out of sheer determination, sweat, hard work you have achieved it on your own. A university degree, completing a marathon, founding an organization fall into these categories, in my mind. The second type is the type that is slightly harder to tout because it is given to you for absolutely hardly any/no reason at all. A honorary doctorate, a knighthood, getting to speak to the Security Council on Darfur (apparently) fall into this category. The third is, by far, the most glorious. These are the things that are thrust upon you, the bizarre accolades that you had no idea that you were up for, that you did nothing to deserve, and of which you’re not sure whether you’re supposed to be ashamed or proud. I’ve had one of these given to me a couple of weeks ago. Unbeknownst to me some friends put together a ‘Darfur Babe Calendar’ for 2007. (Let it never be said that we don’t have our fun in the midst of human misery). Andn not only did I make it into the calendar, I am on the cover of the calendar. Now, laugh if you must. I did. However, in the meantime I think that I might revel in the fact that this will be the only time in my life that I will grace the pages of a ‘babe’ calendar.
Now, I know what you’re thinking (‘where can I get a copy of this calendar?’) No, seriously, you’re wondering why they put that other guy in the shot. Good question and I intend to bring it up with the publishers and my agent. However, it might be because he’s a bloodsucking French lawyer who has far more fashion sense than I – so much so that he got his own page in the babe calendar.