I miss Rebecca Brandon (nee Bloomwood)

I miss Becky. I love her "Shopaholic Series" and "Can you keep a secret?" books. I was checking on books that i bought in Bangkok, where we used to live, and wondered where my Shopaholic Books are. Then I thought if she is busy writing a new book. Probably she'll call it "Shopaholic has a Baby" or "Shopaholic and Baby". Not really sure what the title would be, it's a wild guess. Also, I've heard about the movie starring Kate Hudson in "Can you keep a secret?" I hope it will be done this year.

I believe there is a bit of Becky in all of us. People sometimes laugh at their own flaws --- and who hasn't bought some useless and worthless things just because it was half the price? She might be silly at times and a bit shallow, but she is also amazing, warm, loving and resourceful indeed. I can relate to some of her spending and comment on the things she bought. I remember my friends in Bangkok, we usually shop together when we get flyers sent to us by Emporium or Central. Sometimes, we justified the things we bought to our husbands. Some things are for future use. (Sorry for the barrage of words).

Excerpt from "Shopaholic and Sister"

You know, I could really live in Sri Lanka," I say with a sigh. "It's perfect. The weather . . . the scenery . . . all the people are so friendly . . ."You said the same in India,"

Luke points out. "And Australia," he adds as I open my mouth.

"And Amsterdam."Oh.God, Amsterdam. I'd completely forgotten we went there.

That was after Paris. Or was it before?Oh, yes. It was where I ate all those weird cakes and nearly fell in the canal.

I take another sip of juice and let my mind range back over the last ten months. We've visited so many countries, it's kind of difficult to remember everything at once. It's almost like a blur of film, with sharp, bright images here and there.

Snorkeling with all those blue fish in the Great Barrier Reef . . . the pyramids in Egypt . . . the elephant safari in Tanzania . . . buying all that silk in Hong Kong . . . the gold souk in Morocco . . . finding that amazing Ralph Lauren outlet in Utah . . .

God, we've had some experiences. I sigh happily and take another sip of juice."I forgot to tell you." Luke produces a pile of envelopes. "Some post came from England."I sit up in excitement and start leafing through the envelopes."Vogue!" I exclaim as I get to my special subscriber edition in its shiny plastic cover.

"Ooh, look! They’ve got an Angel bag on the front cover!" I wait for a reaction—but Luke looks blank. I feel a tiny flicker of frustration. How can he look blank? I read him out that whole piece about Angel bags last month, and showed him the pictures and everything. I know this is our honeymoon. But just sometimes, I wish Luke was a girl."You know!" I say. "Angel bags! The most amazing, hip bags since . . . since . . ."Oh, I'm not even going to bother explaining. Instead I gaze lustfully at the photograph of the bag.

It's made of soft, creamy tan calfskin, with a transparent resin handle and discreet zipper. But what makes it unique is the beautiful winged angel hand-painted on the front, with the name Gabriel underneath in diamante.

There are six different angels: Gabriel, Michael, Dante, Raphael, Uriel, and Ariel. All the celebrities have been fighting over them, and Harrods is permanently sold out. holy phenomenon says the headline beside the picture.I'm so engrossed, I barely hear Luke's voice as he holds out another envelope."Ooze," he seems to be saying."Sorry?" I look up in a daze.