Drink and Mr Darcy
Sep. 6th, 2004 09:38 amSo. After a very frustrating Saturday wrestling with publishing software, I resorted to fumbling with columns, giving up, and trusting to tabs. It will end in tears I know it. But that, fortunately, was not the weekend's destiny...
Ended up very drunk with very drunk chums on Saturday night in the small victorian town of Glossop. Glossop is rather pretty, and our host has access to a wood on a hill behind the house, all very charming. I could hear owls and I would have gone and found some, had I been able to open the front door, or indeed, move my legs. Instead, we talked rubbish, laughed our heads off and fell over. A splendid if utterly ridiculous evening!
Yesterday morning was a time of contrition. Despite impressive paracetamol/bacon butty combos we were all a bit fragile, my lift too hung over to take me home. In such circumstances, there really was only one option; We had to watch the BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice from start to finish, and sigh over Colin Firth.
I must state here and now, that that gentleman does nothing for me; Colin Firth's a bit too much of an actor for my tastes. His nostrils are just too earnest, and I can resist him in everything I have ever seen him in...until he depicts my favourite literary hero of all time, Mr Darcy.
Oh, Darcy! Less grabby than Mr Rochester, less barking than Heathcliff, and frankly, as I am yet mortal, I was really given no way of avoiding admiration of Mister Firth's charms: They should make an action-figure of him with poseable eyebrows and sideburns and little plastic props. See Mr Darcy do manly things! See him ride! See him hunt! See him fence! See him exhale passion, brood like a villain and sort out the bad guy like a hero!
Above all, see him swim.
Heavens.
I have seen this series many times, and it's not without flaws, but it is still delightful. Sitting with friends oohing and aahing over the most absurd things was so relaxing, and I realise how tense I've made myself over trivia.
Life's a bit Darcy innit? Gorgeous once you relax...
Ended up very drunk with very drunk chums on Saturday night in the small victorian town of Glossop. Glossop is rather pretty, and our host has access to a wood on a hill behind the house, all very charming. I could hear owls and I would have gone and found some, had I been able to open the front door, or indeed, move my legs. Instead, we talked rubbish, laughed our heads off and fell over. A splendid if utterly ridiculous evening!
Yesterday morning was a time of contrition. Despite impressive paracetamol/bacon butty combos we were all a bit fragile, my lift too hung over to take me home. In such circumstances, there really was only one option; We had to watch the BBC adaptation of Pride and Prejudice from start to finish, and sigh over Colin Firth.
I must state here and now, that that gentleman does nothing for me; Colin Firth's a bit too much of an actor for my tastes. His nostrils are just too earnest, and I can resist him in everything I have ever seen him in...until he depicts my favourite literary hero of all time, Mr Darcy.
Oh, Darcy! Less grabby than Mr Rochester, less barking than Heathcliff, and frankly, as I am yet mortal, I was really given no way of avoiding admiration of Mister Firth's charms: They should make an action-figure of him with poseable eyebrows and sideburns and little plastic props. See Mr Darcy do manly things! See him ride! See him hunt! See him fence! See him exhale passion, brood like a villain and sort out the bad guy like a hero!
Above all, see him swim.
Heavens.
I have seen this series many times, and it's not without flaws, but it is still delightful. Sitting with friends oohing and aahing over the most absurd things was so relaxing, and I realise how tense I've made myself over trivia.
Life's a bit Darcy innit? Gorgeous once you relax...
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Date: 2004-09-06 10:13 am (UTC)