*yawns and stretches*

 
I just watched a movie about Oscar Wilde on YouTube. Man, that's irritating. Anyway, it was called Wilde and it featured Stephen Fry as the writer. You know, I always pictured Oscar Wilde as being a rather...Not petit...Nor particularly slight...But most certainly effeminate and possibly reedy, so it took a little while for me to get used to watching Mr. Fry play this part with his rather substantial height. I mean, you can't very well shrink the poor bastard down, now, can you?

Playing his lover, however, was that irksome twat, Jude Law. Doesn't matter what people say about him or his good (in the eye of the beholder) looks and acting, I think he's not too much more than an insufferable git who is able only to play one particular type of character; most often an irksome twat. See? It's not acting if you're not acting.

My mother picked me up from work today (why? Not a clue...But it beat the living crap out of catching the train) and we had coffee. Actually, she had a coffee (and lemon meringue pie) and I had a very large chai latte and an apple and blueberry crumble. Which I am most certain contained rhubarb *ickface*. We sat and chatted and then went onto (one of) the best bookshops in the world, Better Read Than Dead. I couldn't help but make a couple of purchases...Only a couple!!! I've almost finished my books I bought last weekend, so you know, needed something else. I swear, it's beginning to develop into somewhat of a compulsion. Anyway, I got Bill Bryson's The Mother Tongue, which I borrowed from the library last year and loved deeply - even though I was pissed I couldn't keep it for longer - and I gt my first P.G. Wodehouse book (all this Jeeves/Wooster business has intrigued me), Thank You, Jeeves. I figured it appropriate that I start with the first book in the series...Though that's pretty rare for me, lol. I've only read a few pages, but I love it already.

Shopping tomorrow, I believe. Mi madre has a gift card of some type to spend. Meh, so long as I don't have to buy myself lunch, I'm cool with that.

Gods, nearly 2am. I was beginning to wonder why I could barely finish Wilde...I thought it was far earlier. 

Bed now. All I have to do is keep Stephen Fry's voice from crawling deftly through my mind and, therefore, my dreams. Or not, either way.