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[Am not responsible for your emotional wellbeing after this as my rants are quite ridiculous.]

OK. Fine, I have started reading Atonement. Even though I said to myself, “You know, Tash? Don’t. Stick to the list. It is a quality you are trying to sculpt in yourself and if you don’t, you will regret it. REGRET IT, I tells ya! And that study nook where your sewing machine currently sits, well, you’ll be quivering under that in regret.”

I have no regret so far. Anger, yes, but that’s natural. Any time I watch and/or read Atonement, I start getting the angry shakes like no other. My response is generally, “EUGH BRIONY! Honestly! Why can’t you just grow up a little bit and stop being such a snooty 13 year old! I hate you alllllllll.” To show how common this emotion is, I refer to me a couple of years back, before I was forced to get a blog (I love it here, fans) and I wrote in a lovely pink book which I rebelliously used for writing rather than drawing. Oh, and smearing various makeups on to see what picture I could get.

I was inwardly screaming (or so I thought), “NOO BRIONY!! DON’T! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!! THE VASE BROKE, HE’S NOT TRYING TO SEE HER NAKED!” Then my brother turned away from HeliAttack* and went, “I don’t care about Briony and who she’s seeing naked.”

…

“No! Briony! Put the letter down! I’ll explain everything!!”

…

The movie would not exist were I in it, coaching Briony. So it’s for the best, I suppose.

There was a tad more, that’s the gist and nub of my emotions back then.

So yes, I am on yet another anger-filled surge when I read this book, but I’m one of those weird people who, then, closes the book, and goes, “THAT WAS FLIPPING RADS.”

And beams widely for the next month or two.

Hence the going-through-Atonement… when I should be printing and blogging about something else.

Ahem.

Oh dears. [rushes off to print]