Autumn

Ugh, Prism and Chasuble are like the cutest together. I can't even.

I think Gwen's cottoned on to them now though, so will have to keep an eye out to see how she reacts. I mean, Chasuble is her therapist, certainly she'd have some say in the matter.

Oh, and Al.

Oh Al.

Do you know how you're supposed to be really angry with someone for lying to your face and pretending to be someone else?

I want to be angry, I really do, but I can't.

I mean, isn't pretending to be someone else so he can romance a girl something Ernest (as I imagined him before) would totally do? It's like something straight out of a soap opera, or a romantic film, and isn't that just the absolute most adorable?

I'm sure Gwen would disagree, but Gwen, dear sister, aren't we completely different people? After all, I can't for the life of me see how anyone fancies Jack, he's like an older brother (who's also been extremely rude in purporting to be someone else).

No, I'll stand firm - Al, as much as I love you, I will be angry with you, after all you can only be angry with people you care about.
And Gwen, on your behalf I will be angry with Jack.

I should really take up drawing again. Haven't done that in forever, and the dripping autumn leaves are looking rather pretty. I do love the autumn, all the leaves, the colours...

The Imitation Game

I was going to quip about how this title could also be applied to our ridiculous situation, but then that would be insensitive given the topic of the film.

Gwen and I went to see The Imitation Game yesterday and it was so. good.

I cried ugly tears at the end of it because it made me so angry that for so long this country didn't allow people to love whomever they loved. Harming geniuses and normal people alike for simply being in love.

How stupid is that?

Gwen and I went to see it because Al and Jack are still being nonsensical and obnoxious.

Perhaps it is a bit silly to want a man called Ernest.

But it isn't silly to be angry with a man who pretends to be called Ernest in order to deceive you.

And, of course, Benedict Cumberbatch is always lovely to look at. And so good an actor!

Now, let's see if we can get Al and Jack to apologise for lying to us...

Dr Chasuble

A while Gwen asked her therapist, Chasuble, to come stay with us in Hertfordshire.

He seems rather a nice man, rather dull in that domesticated city-type persona, but none too harmful. Gwen seems more at ease, now.

I must admit though that I find his way of conducting therapy sessions, over Skype, rather unsettling, but as armchair detectives are a staple of detective fiction, I expect the equivalent must also be true for therapists in real life, seeing as there isn't such a thing as therapist fiction. Not really and not without being of a less widely accepted nature, in any case.

I've taken to calling myself Emma in private, but I assure you my intentions with regard to cultivating a friendship between Chasuble and Prism are nowhere so manipulative. But Mr Prism has been dead for years now, and yet she still is not over him - who better to help her than a therapist. I suggested so to her, that she talk to Chasuble about it. Seeing as he is present and all anyway. And Dr Chasuble's wife, as far as I have discerned, is non-existent. I have suggested to Dr Chasuble he take tea with Prism rather than with us, seeing as neither Gwen's nor my tea-making skills are particularly legendary. He tried to suggest something about servants, but I wouldn't hear of it - besides, she is much better at conversing than either of us.

And what good is a domesticated person without a partner to keep them properly domesticated?

Now, on other business - ALGERNON.

What sort of name is Algernon? Or Algy, for short, perhaps - I might as well call him algae, although perhaps that isn't particularly creative, no matter how much he deserves it.

But just you wait, Algy Moncrieff - you'll be sorry, but your tears will be too late. You'll be left, and I'll have Ernest, and I will say you weren't earnest; just you wait, Algy Moncrieff, just you wait.

Whatever gave you the idea that assuming a false name helps you in affairs of the heart? I only use false names when I buy my lattes...

Bonfire Night

No time for blogging this week, my apologies.

I've taken Gwen out to Bonfire Night and we've been out most nights anyway.

Because Jack and Al are...

Well.

We deserve our nights out.

No time, the bonfire's raging and the fireworks are still going!