Anglophilia

My birthday is coming up in October. I know it's too early to think too much about it, but I'm a birthday person. Even if it's not a big old special deal, I like them. I've had one or two complete emotional disaster birthdays, but usually when I'm not forced to go to someone else's surprise party and deal with the fact that no one there knows that it's my birthday too(I love you Steve Moreau, don't get me wrong), it's a regular hoot.

This year, I want this. Absolutely I am this dorky. I'm head over heels in love with Masterpiece Theater, and all of the Jane Austen adaptations make me so happy.



I used to be much more of a dark, brooding, Gothic, Bronte girl-- but no more. I mean, I still love Jane Eyre more than any other book, but I don't think I have the constitution to experience so much vicarious angst anymore. I'm too old or something. Maybe I'll come back around to the heavy, sad, JeffBuckleyisthonlythingIlistento place inside myself. But now..oh now I really like reading Emma and watching Sense and Sensibility for the twenty seventh time.

Are you bored yet? Excellent. So, that's my birthday wish. Lots of pretty dresses and curled hair, and tea, and sitting rooms, and riding boots. I am fully self aware, and I know how gross I sound, so you don't need to give me a heads up on that.

Tonight, we have yet another sketchshop at IA at 10pm. I might do something musical of marginal quality -- don't miss it!!

Your affectionate friend,
Erin