I love chick-lit! It's girly, it's silly/retarded, and it makes me feel better about myself (i.e. that I'm not such a blabber-mouth that I jeopardize my Crush's relationships with his mother and money-grubbin' girlfriend while concealing my own secrets from my best friend).

That's the essence of this book. Lizzie just finished college with an Interdisciplinary degree in History of Fashion (!) and runs off to England to spend the month with her English boyfriend, Andrew. Whom she'd spent one 24 hour period with in which he became her 'boyfriend' and has spent the last three months creating an image in her mind of what he is. Which, anyone familiar with online dating & crushes could tell you, is the farthest thing from reality.

Everything goes wrong (but not so painfully/comically as Sophie Kinsella would write it) and she hops the Channel to France to stay with her best friend. En route she meets the perfect man and spills her guts to him (ala CAN YOU KEEP A SECRET, Sophie Kinsella) only to find out he owns the chateau towards which she's headed.

Typical, sugary literature meant for women in this Post-Bridget Jones era in which we now read. It was enjoyable and made me laugh out, sometimes squee, and basically entertain me for a week