I am growing up and learning new things all the time.
I went to my first babyshower two weeks ago. A lovely afternoon, but there was more smoking than I expected.
Last night I went to my first hens night. It was a great night, but there was more talking about death than I expected.
I'll know for next time.
I'm still listening to Undine by Penni Russon, a book about a girl discovering that she has nautically-inspired magical powers.
I'm enjoying listening to this story more than I expected, because I don't get into much fantasy. Perhaps because whenever I read a book like Undine I can't help thinking that poor Undies might be mentally ill rather than magical. This is clearly a failure of my imagination and I wish I was better at suspending disbelief. I keep telling myself that Harry Potter really did go to Hogwarts - he's not just a lonely boy in a basement who has lost his grip on reality.
At least when I read Liar by Justine Larbalestier, I didn't have any doubts or confusion about what "really" happened. I knew.