Every time I yawn or stretch my mouth a little too wide while eating or talking, the skin above my upper lip cracks and bleeds a little. It’s not painful, but the scab makes me look like a Neo-Hitler. *sigh* Yes, it’s winter and its DRY, and I always forget to rub Vaseline on which makes the mini-mustache-look entirely my fault.
So what’s a girl to do?
Read Me and Mr. Darcy by Alexandra Potter.
I skipped buying this book on several occasions, thinking that it was just one of the mediocre chick-lit novels that populated the shelves. But because I was trying to keep myself from splurging on a brand new iPod, I went crazy and bought a number of books in Jarir this afternoon. And *surprise!*surprise!*, Potter’s book is actually a good read.
No, it was more than good. Me and Mr. Darcy is funny, witty, warm, and very real. The lead character, Emily, is bookstore manager who ventures on a Jane Austen literary tour. And during her week in England–which she had expected to be quite dull and uneventful–she meets a busload of fun senior citizens, a mysterious tour guide, a cute but annoying reporter named Spike, and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy himself.
Any girl could identify with Emily and all her awkward insecurities. Potter didn’t spare any embarrassment and it’s a relief to read a book where the heroine isn’t some plastic Barbie doll but is someone who could have stepped out of the book, complete with all her flaws and human quirks.
And I completely and utterly ENVY her for scoring a date… no, several dates with that eternal dreamboat, Mr. Darcy.
Who has a copy of the BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice starring Colin Firth? Everyone has copies of the movie with Keira Knightly and Matthew Macfadyen, and while I adore that version, I fear that it’s my civic duty as a warm-blooded female to see Colin Firth emerge from the lake in his white shirt and breeches.
Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy