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7 days in the life of: Caroline Morahan

It’s good to get away from it all in LA so I can work on my pout

Sunday: It's just as well I escaped to LA to avoid all the nasty media intrusion into my life. All the paparazzi, red-carpet events, interview requests, fabulousness: gone. From now on it's just like Lady Gaga says: it's all about my art.

Monday: I want to be known for the quality of my work, just like Ava Gardner. And for my humanitarian work. And my pout. Erm, okay, make that Angelina Jolie.

Tuesday: It's so peaceful here in the Hollywood Hills. Hearing gunfire from South Central definitely beats scrapping with Pamela Flood for the last heated roller, or having to eject Podge and Rodge from my cleavage.

Wednesday: Today heralds a decisive moment in my career. My manager (who moonlights as my boyfriend) says it's gonna wipe the smiles off the faces of my critics. Brace yourselves for my TV3 presenting debut.

Thursday: It's a pity I'm not around to read the gushing reviews -- receiving them by emailed Google alerts just doesn't feel the same.

Friday: My manager and I are having a low-carb breakfast meeting with 'Dr 90210' Robert Rey -- my latest co-star. He's a majorly important new contact. OMG, imagine how many important people he's injected with Botox!

Saturday: I'm proud of who I am, no matter what the small-minded (probably jealous and female) begrudgers say. And I've achieved a hell of a lot for a 26-year-old. Okay, 28. Okay, 30. Fine, 32.

Or this is how it would be if we were Caroline...


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