miranda otto

I just saw The Dead Letter Office. What a sweet little film! And sad.

Miranda can act!!

So can her dad! Barry Otto! (Who plays her dad in the film, hua hua.) I know him, too! He's quite famous in Australia; I'm sure I've seen him in all sorts.

Then I lay in a stupour on the sofa, randomly hitting buttons on the POTC-DVD remote. The Commodore grows on me the more I see him. And as he was already quite firmly attached to me, the situation has now reached barnacle stage.

I am so bored with marking. If only every student would write me a First... That would make everybody happy. Firsts are the only essays I can stomach. (To all you non-UK people: it's the top grade you can get at British unis.) But I dutifully plough through the rest, fixing up semi-colons, querying compliments (knowing they mean complement), noting absent references and generally feeling 58 times worse than a badfic!beta.

And plagiarism!! Well, that is simply below the belt.

( Oh, and I am going to Yoga again! I am so happy that I manipulated my timetable to make way for yoga. I love my yoga class! *loves yoga class* )

happy birthday, sheldrake

Happy birthday, dearest smoochiest sheldrake!!


And I'm a bit late so I throw myself on the floor in grovel mode.

I hope you had a very nice day, and here's wishing you a wonderful 2004 with prose aplenty, spirits galore, spooks within measure, gaggles of tractors, flurries of friends and all things nice.


*smoochie poochie*