"a ball? I long for a ball!"

'I cannot talk of books in a ballroom; my head is always full
of something else.'

Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen

I am a very lucky young lady, and whether or not I am indeed Miss Emma Woodhouse is as yet to be decided. Last night was wonderful! We went straight from work, not ideal, but managed to sneak in a much-needed cuppa beforehand. The venue was lovely; I'd never seen so many chandeliers in one place, casting rainbows all about. There were candles and scatters of petals and pearls on the tables too. After the meal we attempted some regency dancing, hilarity ensued. The trouble was knowing which women were men, as well as right from left! Eventually arrived home at midnight with very tired feet and a posy of roses that smell just like marzipan. Sigh. Why was I born in the nineties?

Onto books however. In order to remedy my starving student/impoverished artist situation, I lugged a rucksack of books to town to sell at the paperback place. Unfortunately, the chap only wanted Tristram Shandy and gave me 50p for it. What a cheek! Certainly not enough to finance my essential and extremely very important ribbon expences. Grrr.