Stars died for you tonight

I watched Tess of the D'urbervilles tonight. Considering I have not read the book (I would have done so had I continued English so I was saving it for that) and the BBC just churns out period dramas all over the place, I have to say I enjoyed it. Actually to be fair I did enjoy their Jane Eyre despite Rochester being not what anyone could call ugly and Jane did try and the crazy bulk of the wife in the attic was decidedly slim and not so menacing. When you've been reading the book since you were twelve it doesn't matter so much. Anyway it was good and very pretty and the cast weren't too modern looking.

I have been dithering about my hair, mostly because of the fringe and it's waywardness. I'm blind enough. Two things made up my mind though. Straightening out the inconsistent curls I realised just how long it is getting and maybe I watched Gemma Arterton tonight and sighed silly little girl dreams about stamping about in the countryside all romantic like. Perhaps without the rape and psychological abuse though, sort of ruins the whimsy. God I hate that word. I like whim and I like whimsical but whimsy is blehh.

I think my shift button is broken again. I've had to go back and recapitalise everything. Stop dying on me laptop! I love you! Didn't I adorn you with stickers which were free and amusing? Didn't i painstakingly remove all the sherbet I accidentally giggled into your keyboard? Haven't I only dropped you twice?

I have an urge to rollerskate. I used to have the best rollerskates. Aaand I am losing a coherent train of thought here so it's probably time to go do something else. Like sleep! Or write, only I wrote half of a story and my mum told me my imagery was too dense and I don't want to cut any of it out. I wrote freckle-dusty nose and a vague scrawl I haven't perfected about the waxy remains of her lipstick and sleep is winning. Write tomorrrrrow.