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I bought a book called Georgette Heyer's Regency World, by Jennifer Kloester, from Borders last week - for $60! (That's about... US$35-40, I'd guess?) And I'm supposed to be saving money! It is just so cool! It is about all the background to Georgette Heyer novels. It tells me that a conservatory was the perfect place for marriage proposals, what terms such as 'nabob' and 'dandy' mean and how they originated, what card games were popular, how snuff was made and where it was sold, about the hierarchies within the peerage and even within the domestic staff of a great house, what one did at Vauxhall Gardens, and so on and so forth. The author did her PhD on Georgette Heyer books! I'm telling the truth when I say that this book makes me salivate. It's the sort of book that one just cannot justify buying, and unless someone is a Georgette Heyer or Jane Austen fan, they just could not understand the thrill of reading it. I have told no one but one of my sisters. Until now.
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It is disturbing me no end now, however, that I am actually really enjoying the last few singles she's brought out: 'Candyman' and the other one whose name I forget. I am even thinking about buying the album. I have not told anyone until now. I just think that her latest music is so fun. I'm a bit sick of songs about cancer, or what goes through the minds of killers, or about women whose husbands are beating them. That sounds super-heartless, I know, but there is a point at which I just want to listen to funky, young music that's just happy! Such as Gwen Stefani or people like that. It's embarrassing, though.
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I can't believe I'm even telling you this one. The Sims. So I don't play it as much as I used to, but if I ever do, it has the tendency to become compulsive. Computer games seem such a 12-year-old thing to do. I even lied when I bought it about four years ago, telling the cute shop assistant that it was for "a friend". I guess ever since childhood I have enjoyed creating little universes, whether they be with Playmobil, Littlest Petshop, Polly Pocket, or... The Sims. (I keep italicising it because it seems so embarrassing and dire. If I could, when you read the words you would hear menacing music.) I actually have no idea how to justify this one. Oh! the shame.
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This one isn't quite so guilty, I guess, as I'm perfectly happy to tell people I'm a huge fan of Agatha Christie (who, in this photo, looks a lot like the Queen Mother - does anyone agree?). But I think most people would be a little surprised if they knew how many Christie mysteries I read. I also get hold of them, and then can't bear to put them down, so I often find myself finishing a good old satisfying Agatha Christie novel at about 3 o'clock in the morning. I read them to my ESL students for listening practice. I'm finding it extremely depressing to think that at some point in the near future I will have read every single Christie novel there is. I have a whole shelf in my bookcase of them... and I've been reading them for less than a year. Eek! I'm telling you, I would do a PhD on Agatha Christie if someone would fund it *endearing smile to any readers out there who may be slightly eccentric and rich* and if I could avoid telling other students who do PhDs on Real Literature.
So those are my guilty secrets. What are yours? (Come on, I told you mine...)