That's my fiance's birthday present. Shhh, don't tell. :)

(I'm very lucky to be with someone who is gonna be totally stoked at getting a pressure cooker for his birthday.)

This is so pathetic. "Journalists" now hustling cookware. You'd make more money on Hollywood Blvd. (or Craigslist) and have some real experiences to blog about, instead of the usual caterwauling.
Actually, I think there is more dignity in hooking than selling George Foreman-endorsed chicken broilers.
Or, as a friend of mine used to chant, "I rather hook than cook!"

And would that friend be the hooker you delude yourself into thinking is your girlfreind?

Actually, I married an ex-hooker. Hey, she fell in love with me on our first "date." Been together seven years. Two kids. Been rocky, but interesting. Not sure it was the right thing, but then, is marriage ever?
I recommend hooking for all young women. Get paid to learn the ropes. See, if Amy Alkon had turned tricks in her 20s, she wouldn't have to hustle cookware now, like some washed up soap actress (assuming she had properly invested her earnings).
I figure in 10 years, maybe less, a woman could obtain financial security through hooking. Beats the hell out of law school. Buy a quadplex somewhere, collect the rent, start another business. Who knows.
The world is a wide-open adventure, for those who dare to seize the day.

Perhaps. But no one ever got herpes from a waffle iron.

Hey, I hope your book sells bigtime. Like they say, Get on Ophra and you are rich.
For most authors, book-selling is a hard dime. I speak from experience. But, you have picked a popular topic. Who knows?
Ink-stained wretches all.
Cut me and a bleed ink. I can't stop writing. It is a curse.

"Perhaps. But no one ever got herpes from a waffle iron. "

Note to self: pitch this new high-concept teen movie idea next time in L.A.