I bawled my eyes out until there was no more water left in me ... after which, I drank a litre and cried some more.
It's not a dude, people. I don't cry over dudes. Well ... I might now, now that I've said it. Goddamn Murphy's Law.
It's a book.
... oh, so you think the dude sounds more important? OK then, go touch yourself.
Well, it's not just any book. It's the last instalment of the Shopaholic series. And mind you, I type 'last instalment' with a very, very heavy heart. I think, apart from Sidney Sheldon, Sophie Kinsella has the greatest set of novels I could ever read. Perfectly catered to ditzy can't-tell-if-I'm-coming-or-going kind of chicks.
And probably from the point of view of that young girl who just wants to have everything - I just want to have everything.
I want the flat, I want the shops, I want the money, and most importantly - the man. I am so sorry, Becky Brandon, but I am hopelessly in love with your husband. I have already cultivated that shopping habit so that's not really an issue. Everything else is though.
Just when you think life is going to fall apart for her, she does something diabolical to bring herself right around. And it always turns out so peachy for her.
I've become her - I embraced the character. She's the smartest, bravest and kindest person I know. But then again, she's fiction. In a book. I must be positively bonkers for relating to someone in a book.
But I am positively bonkers anyway for dreaming of things from a book.
I just have one thing to say : I never imagined myself hoping for a fairytale life. Neither being a hopeless romantic.
And somehow, I want everything to go just as it's been written.
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3 comments:
But it is already written for us all.
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale.
We're all just playing our part thats already written out babe
NEESHA, YOU SHAKESPEAREN FREAK.
THAT WAS MY COMMENT.
D:
Tash, look Tash, she stole my comment.
Anyway, don't worry.
At least Sophie Kinsella isn't dead.
-reminisces of the day the Sheldon died-
And sweetheart, I live in fantasy books.
You're not six feet under like I am.
Maybe three feet.
But not six.
maybe thats why we're so good for each other. btw tasha was reaaally reaaally horny on the phone with me last night :S HELP I NEED YOU HERE
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