(no subject)

Now I remember why I never liked Jane Eyre. Her childhood reminds me far, far too much of my own. How depressing is that? I don't know if I have the fortitude to slog through all that, but maybe finally reading the whole book through will be some kind of catharsis. I hope! Right now it's just making me huddle on the couch watching Hello Dolly! all day in order to stave off ennui!

The medieval dress... is progressing! Not terribly quickly, mind you, but is is actually getting done, which is awsome. I'm going to try to start actually sewing today, but my mum keeps telling me "you have to use the serger!" and I'm afraid of the serger. The sewing machine and I have issues, and I don't even want to imagine what kind of mischief the serger might produce. But we'll see!