I’m, like, really excited.

As a female bookworm, there’s nothing more worthy of my excitement than a newly released, bona fide chick novel. No, I’m not even ashamed to admit to it. Hah!

Lauren Weisberger’s newest novel, “Chasing Harry Winston,” is staring at me from my desk as I write, and I can’t help be anxious. This I find pretty funny. It’s not because of the reality that I get anxious from thinking about a book, but because I have a feeling I’m not alone.

Weisberger, the author of “The Devil Wears Prada,” riled up a storm of female followers with her tell-all-in-disguise on working with “Vogue” editor Anna Wintour. The movie, starring Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway, failed to live up to the book’s prowess, but that seemed to be the prediction from the start.

The new novel hasn’t had much hype, but the book jacket’s description entails all those nights of curling up on the sofa in pajamas, with the book and a glass of wine. Laughter, cooing, and awing are all inevitable because a woman wrote the book with the intention for it to be read by other women.

There’s nothing more honest than a woman giving into the desire to wear her heart on her sleeve and read and gush over a fictional woman’s problems.

It’s better than a tube of cookie dough. It’s better than a plush pillow. It’s girl time, and this was my ode to it.

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