Tag: with-my-prada-bag-and-shoes-chick-lit

My Not So Perfect Life, Sophie Kinsella, (or petty revenge and the dubious rise of glamping…)

Bonjour my pretties.

I have, (it’s entirely possible) complained about our Australian Summers before. So I won’t bore you with long whingy details again – suffice to say it is hot.

So hot.

So unbelievably hot.


Carbon Copy Companion Reading II (or is everything a vague reflection of GEORGETTE HEYER??)

So was reading a book… perambulating through it really – when I was slowly overwhelmed by this feeling. Not all at once mind you – more like an encroaching tide of inevitability, coupled with a sense of ineluctable destiny. Like all roads would lead to this point, regardless of the path I took. No Robert Frost for me thank you. I was like: no, wait…there is something about this that is soo familiar… It was elusive (not unlike the scarlet pimpernel). It was liminal. It was Georgette Heyer. Again. It did make me wonder: do all roads lead to Georgette Heyer?