If anything can go wrong, it will.


The Divorce Diet: My Thoughts

The Divorce Diet

The Divorce Diet by Ellen Hawley.

It’s a little bit funny the way this book found its way on to my shelves. I was exploring at WordPress, browsing “Anglophile” as a tag (Okay, you got me, I’m obsessed!) when I stumbled upon this charming blog called Notes from the U.K.

How appropriate.

I fell in love with what Ellen Hawley had to say about her experiences as an American living in the U.K., with the little glimpses into England, and Cornwall in particular, that she shares.

And then I read the “About” page. Oooh. Books! Curiosity piqued. With my birthday approaching (22/2, so, rapidly approaching), I decided last night that I’d treat myself.

Turns out, it was a pretty fantastic treat. I bought the book (Kindle format) last night and could not put it down. And I’m not one of those types who can’t leave a book unfinished, if it’s not engaging.

What I love about The Divorce Diet: 

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50 Shades of Grey: My Thoughts

Opinions are like assholes; everybody has one.

I confess that I read 50 Shades of Grey and its sequels. All three books. I say “confess”, but it’s not as if I’m ashamed of having read them. I was curious, and so I satisfied my curiosity. I’m also happy to report that, having read the books, I have zero desire to see the film, and can instead spend my money on something more worthwhile to me.

There are some out there who would say that my problem with  50 Shades of Grey is born of some jealousy of the author’s success. No, I rather applaud E.L. James for the wild success that she’s had with her series. Kudos to her for putting her writing out there, for being determined enough to self-publish when publishing houses weren’t willing to pick her up – and wouldn’t be until she’d already sold a quarter of a million copies of her book.  Love or hate 50 Shades of Grey, that is ridiculously impressive!

Some would say that my problem with 50 Shades of Grey has something to do with the “kinky fuckery” involved. No, this may be a surprise to you, and it may be entirely too much information, but I’m good with some kinky fuckery. At least, within the confines of a relationship and under the premise of “safe, sane, and consensual”. (I’m not judging anyone else, for the record, if they are down with kinky fuckery outside the confines of a relationship, but I’m just personally not wired that way).

So, what then, are my problems? Allow me to elaborate:

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