Hello my pallys!
It is, I, Georgia (yet again), writing to you from my pit of despair, i.e. my bedroom. At this point, I can't leave my usual lipstick marks for you as Angus has stolen my lippy (or Libby, as a matter of fact they're hard to tell the difference). As you probably know, I am off to Hamburger-a-gogo-land (your hometown) for summer hols and I am there to track down MASIMO! (Who else? Robbie? Right.) As always, there is a glossary in the back, for those of you who are not the brightest candle in the drawer. I do this because I love you, you know that.

P.S. Did you know that the author of this book is still thinking of a title and that she just named it Yes, I'm Still Confessing because in all my books, there's something like further confessions; further, further confessions; even more confessions. Well, you get the idea.

P.P.S. I'm getting much better at French. Have you noticed? I can have a nice conversation without once mentioning the word "merde."

P.P.P.S. This love thing is becoming much easier. Especially, with Mum's book.

P.P.P.P.S. I do hope you enjoy my ever-entrancing diary. kiss

Love, Georgia