I listened to two fluffy books this weekend, Austenland and Romeo and Julia on tape. Both were so much better than the other fluff I've been reading. I'm grateful to the authors for having a sense of humor and characters I sort of cared about. After a diet of bad bad bad bad fluff (DM, I'm talking about you. And the several historicals I've picked up lately by famous people who should know better) decent fluff was delicious. Also now that I've had a day of thinking about it, I've decided Austenland was hysterically silly and funny. I disregard reality and accept the silliness and dithering of the heroine. We do dither, after all.
I am tired of characters and books that take themselves seriously but in fact are as shallow as a mud puddle. I won't read them any more. If you're going to be that shallow, at least reflect sunlight and don't pretend to examine murky depths that don't actually exist.
The one good thing is that these are all library books. We're economizing in a big way. No banging agaisnt the walls with books I had to pay for.