Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Damnit, Rochester

Oh internet! How easy you make it to allow one hour to go by! I just decided that I would like to purchase two items of clothing: 1) a pair of those cute horn rimmed plastic sunglasses I keep seeing everywhere (I just tried finding a picture and ended up searching zappos for half an hour) and 2) a shirt that has a cat face on it. I arrived at these desires randomly, just in case you were wondering.

Nothing whatsoever of importance happened to me today. As I explained to a friend in an email, I started out this week setting my alarm very, very early (4:45am to be exact) in the hopes that I would get up, lollygag for twenty minutes and then exercise. What has ended up happening is that I'll indeed get up at 4:45am but instead of ending the lollygag at 20 minutes, I'll read for an hour and a half, realize I have to get ready for work and rush through all the tasks of the morning that I need to take my time with, considering I won't see the inside of my apartment for several hours. I comfort myself by focusing on the fact that if I'm not exercising my body, I'm exercising my mind. Ahem.

I'm feeling a little emotional today for no apparent reason. Since this never, ever happens to me (ahem) I decided a good idea would be to watch Jane Eyre. I watched the most recent version of it, the one that stars Michael Fassbender as Mr. Rochester. If you don't know who that actor is, well, you won't know if what I'm saying is true but I have never seen a Mr. Rochester played as sexy before. I think maybe Fassbender can't help it. Anyway, aside from all that sexual tension, which for this version I swear was played up because I can't remember any other version feeling like that, I cried like a baby. Pretty much from the moment of this dialogue:

"Because," he said, "I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you--especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame. And if that boisterous Channel, and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I've a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, --you'd forget me." the moment Jane returns to Thornfield. Little, pathetic, quiet tears. Ridiculous, I know but damnit Rochester! How could you make the words corresponding quarter sound so damn sad?

Also, I just now discovered that Michael Fassbender is one year YOUNGER than I am. How is this possible? Why am I so damn old? Should I go cry about that too now??

I told you I was emotional. I think I need to get some froyo on my way home from work. I think getting up so early to read really earned that for me.


  1. That's one of my all-time favorite books--I'll have to check out this new film adaptation.

  2. Yes, you MUST. I'm considering purchasing it. If I do, JANE EYRE party in the hizzy. We can drink meade.