Good Part is: I bought a lot of books. Besides Bridget Jones's Diary original and sequel. I have bought quite a few imaginative books that I am dying to read. Every time I read the leaflet of one of them it takes me to a place, to the language I wish I could partake of, and I am suddenly jealous that the writer could describe some faint feelings lurking inside me. Four years ago when I first read Ms. Bridget Jones's tale I couldn't put it down, I thought it was hilarious and witty and whimsical, a must have for every woman who is afraid to turn 30 and become exactly like her. Now, I have put it down considerably, and I have found that as a piece of literature, it is rather lacking in substance of which it makes it up by being somewhat plausible especially as to the insecurities every single woman over 30 feels; like we are the burnt remains of the crock pot at Christmas.

The books I bought were:
Drinking Coffee Elsewhere by ZZ Packer
Bailey's Cafe by Gloria Naylor
Black Girl in Paris by Shay Youngblood
Then of Jemima J (which I read over Christmas) by jane Green.

The Bad Part is: I used my credit card to buy some of these books. I was stupid I know, after promising not to spend money unless it was an emergency.