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[Feb. 5th, 2004|01:12 am] |
Maria can be most exasperating at times.
I do believe we are exactly opposite in every respect, and although I love her dearly, I have found that we cannot seem to understand each other on even the simplest of matters.
As I mentioned yesterday afternoon, Father and I went in to Meryton to pick up a parcel at the bookshop.
Maria was anxious to accompany us, as she and I both wanted to stop at the milliner's to see the new arrival of ribbons.
We left Father at the bookshop, and by chance came upon Miss Fisher and her sister.
(the Fishers have always been a tad too. . .outspoken for my taste, but they are pleasant company for a stroll.)
As we walked down the lane, Maria and Lucy Fisher began to discuss a new novel they had recently perused.
I really cannot understand her fascination with such things, so I let my mind wander until I heard Maria start exclaiming nonsense about the heroine of the book.
"I, too, would rather die an old maid than marry anyone but my one true love. . ."
I was beginning to tire of her pointless chatter so I attempted to show her how foolish such a statement was.
true love - of all the ridiculous notions!
She would have none of it, of course.
Just wait until she is my age with absolutely no prospects. None, whatsoever.
I have a horrid headache, and the rain falling outside only adds to my dismal mood. |
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| (no subject) |
[Feb. 3rd, 2004|09:32 pm] |
Although I know not where to begin, I have decided to take pen in hand and dutifully record the events of my life, insignificant as they may be.
At seven and twenty, one comes to realize that the days pass all too quickly. I suppose this will be an attempt to capture some of these moments.
ah, Father is calling me to accompany him into town.
I must end this, though I shall make every effort to return shortly. |
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