Colin lust has reached a dangerous high after watching Pride And Prejudice (again) over the weekend with my mother and sister, and taking my mother to see Bridget Jones’ Diary on Tuesday.
At this point I can only think of three things that reduce me to gibbering idiocy: fantastic music, Mulder & Scully love, and gorgeous men. I must say this hints at disturbing levels of residual adolescence.
In my defence, I suppose it can be said that other things merely move me differently – intense happiness, cerebral pleasures and the sight of beauty (other than gorgeous men) render me quietly blissful. This doesn’t necessarily translate into more mature behaviour, because it’s often the sort of shining-eyed don’t-speak-either-because-you-haven’t-the-words-
wonderful-dream joy that five-year-olds do better than anyone else, but at least it isn’t noisy.