Confessions

My confession of the day:

I LOVE JANE EYRE! OK, that's not really a surprise. After all, it's the first book listed in my "favorite books" in my profile. I just checked to make sure it was on there, and sure enough, it's there.

I say this because last night I stayed up til 1 am watching the Masterpiece Theatre version of Jane Eyre. Or, the first part, at least. Now I have to wait until Sunday to watch the exciting conclusion. Can I wait that long? I already know how it ends, having read the book several times, but it's still so fun to see it in action.

I watched J.E. while knitting. Prior to J.E., I watched Grey's Anatomy. And American Idol. Now if that's not a good chick evening, I don't know what it is.

Oh yes, and Toby Stephens, who played Rochester in J.E., is pretty darn good looking, too. Though of course, Jane doesn't find him handsome. You'll remember that from the book, right? I was staring at Toby, trying to figure out where I knew him from. I looked him up online, and found out where I knew him from -- he starred in a play I saw the summer after my junior year in college, when I went to London for a theatre class. Yep, I remembered watching him and having a crush on him after seeing him in "Coriolanus." This was also the summer I saw Jude Law in the nude in "Les Parents Terribles" and Jeremy Northam in "Love's Labour's Lost." Ahh, good times. I had moved past my crushes on Law and Northam long ago, before Jude screwed the nanny, and Northam stopped showing up in random parts here and there (I last spotted him in Emma.) And, sad to say, I'd forgotten all about you, Toby Stephens. See, I don't have a framed print of the play you were in hanging in the TV room. I just bought you in post card size, from the Royal Shakespeare Company store. You were in my college room right next to the shrine to Kenneth Branagh, if it makes you feel better. Oh, and since you don't know I exist, I guess hearing that I forgot about you for 13 years, before rediscovering you in Jane Eyre, probably doesn't hurt too badly.
I won't even bring up Daniel Craig. Yummy.

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Update: I saw the exciting conclusion last night. Sigh. What is it about British guys with mutton chop sideburns? I tried to convince Hubby, who hasn't had time to get a haircut in a while, to either let me give him a buzzcut with the clippers or to just grow out his hair and let his hair and sideburns get really bushy. He didn't take me up on the clippers. Maybe if he sees this hot picture he'll change his mind about needing a haircut.



Oh, and for my British reader (That would be you, Lisa!), why in the world is the name St. John, which as an American, I read in my head as Saint John, pronounced Sinjen? I was highly confused for a few moments until I realized this was the weird British pronunciation. Oh well, I guess since a British woman wrote the book, I'll have to accept that Sinjen is the "correct" way to say St. John.