She’s proud and he’s prejudice, but really, you’d think it be the other way around.

I may officially be a little nuts. so we all know about my crazy crush on colin firth. it’s since been expanded to include Matthew Mcfadyen. And yes. You guessed it – nearly all men who have ever played Mr. Darcy (let me stipulate – anyone who has ever played Mr. Darcy well. I’m not including those craptastic cheesy adaptations that make it a modern day story – except maybe Bridget Jones because at least the characters are different).

I have fell so far into the Austen world after watching the movie four times over two days that today I have gone back to my flowery dress roots. You all know the outfits I’m talking about. The long flowing dresses that reach my ankles, paired with the cardigan sweaters. Oh yeah. We’re back to that.

I waxed on and on about the symbolism in Austen’s social satire and how nothing, despite all of our progress, has really changed in our endeavor to find a husband in want of a wife in an email to my friend Jim, who may be the only man I know that would actually read Austen. Jim was an English major as well, and quotes Marcus Aurelius. He was also a pm with me at uhc and we met while traveling for work with some interesting characters. It was a fine bonding moment, and I consider him one of the brightest people I have ever met. In that whole carrot, coffee bean, egg thing, he’s totally the coffee bean.

My husband thinks I’m funny, if slightly whacky about all of this Austen-craziness, and yet, he may also be a wee bit concerned. He laughs at my diatribe about what is wrong with the world today, and he’s a little worried about how far I’m taking this return to Austen. Yesterday, in blockbuster, when I tried to pick a new movie, I made a b-line to Emma and Mansfield Park. I looked, but they didn’t have Persuasion.

And yesterday, I started to re-read it for what may be the fourth time in its entirety. There are parts of it that I’ve re-read at least a dozen times. Those of you out there know the chapter… 34…

“You could not have made me the offer of your hand in any possible way that would have tempted me to accept it…”

Ah the passion. The heat. The language! If you add in the accent, it’s all too much for me.

I confess, I cannot be funny in the modern way after being so obsessed with 19th century literature, and now that I’ve let my inner-nerd show, I’ll go back to telling the stories of crazy things that happen to me throughout the day. Like when I went to the thrift store the other day and there was a 6 foot tall transvestite behind me in line, and she was infinitely better dressed than me.