"Every Little Thing She Does is Magic..."

;________________; I'm so tired.

But perfectly happy.

Daddy just came in and gave me three winter raspberries from the garden. <3 They were perfect and a little firm and blush-raspberry-colour and so sweet...!

Ohhhh.

Ohhh, Dili! That song! You're the one who posted that song, right? In my subject line? Because they were playing it at work! On the radio! And I was all *BOUNCEBOUNCEOMG* I KNOW THAT SONG! ^_____________^!

...AllrightnowIabsolutelymustdomymathslesson.

I visit Marie to-day. Aaaaack. Nervous nervous.

Ohohohbut we cancelled Scum Club because Waen and Mum wanted to go riding, you know, because it was such a nice day---

Two weeks and a day until Miss Zara...!

Sotired. And maths!

"Somewhere, Over the Rainbow..."

Well!

I am back from seeing the nutritionist.

First of all, she determined from my food diary (demn me for being so religiously honest about it) that I was eating around nine-hundred calories a day, something I am now expressly forbidden from. It's more than twelve-hundred or else. Also I'm to cut back on my exercise, or else add more variety. I'm forbidden from dieting. I'm forbidden particularly from anything to do with WeightWatchers. She said I was scaring her at points.

I'm to keep a food diary again for the next month; she's looking for a therapist for me, if she can find one she trusts.

I've promised before I went to see her that I'd do what she said, so I must--do as she's said, I suppose. So I'm now required to eat fruits and carbohydrates again. I'm to try and get more variety in my vegetables, although she's pleased with those, if nothing else. I am not allowed to treadmill three hours a day ever (my feet, at least, appreciate that--Mum says I'm to start wearing shoes when I treadmill, too, or I'll have arthritis at twenty-five and no arches).

And she gave me her telephone number, and a list of guidelines, and kept telling me that I looked fine--

so right now, all I'm trying to do is maintain my weight and get my metabolism to go steady again. I'm not allowed to try to lose weight. I'm just to get my sanity back.

(so that someday I can look in mirrors again)

And--I see her again in a month, I suppose.

...I suppose this means I'll go have breakfast now. I might just wait for supper, though.

EDIT: Oh! And she said I'm too pale, and also that I have to start taking my vitamins again. So I am going to go and try to find them. I think they're still in my suitcase from going to Sewanee.

"He Woke Up, and the Room Was Bare..."

We saw the rest of Hamlet! It's--well. They sent us the wrong version, by mistake, which is why it seemed exactly like the version Miss Zara had already seen. Because it, you know, was.

But. All that aside.

Ohhhh, Horatio. He was perfect. He looked so tired and harassed all the time, and was always doing everything; and he was always there at everyone's side, Gertrude's, Ophelia's, Hamlet's--always bowed for the royalty, without taking his eyes off whomever was mad at the time. He also--I'm not sure if this makes him perfect to anyone but me <3--looked just almost exactly like Fred Astaire. He kept doing lots of little mannerisms that are utterly Fred Astaire's, too--the way he folded his arms, the way he shook his head, the way he wrinkled his forehead--really.

Hamlet touched him far more than was necessary. Also he wore a green sweater-vest. I've never seen anyone look so adorably worried to death in a green sweater-vest before. Keeee. And he--oh, I don't know. Perfect Horatio.

Hamlet, on the other hand, looked like a dork in fencing gloves. And ohhhh, he cheated that second touch on Laertes. One does not do that in fencing. It does, technically, count for a point, but it was still cheating to a degree; and Laertes should have lost the point through disqualification, for turning his back, not through getting struck. The only way someone is supposed to get a point on one's back is by flicking.

...Er.

Also as Hamlet was dying he kept falling and clinging to Horatio, over and over--he'd get up, and then his knees would give again, and Horatio would catch him--

(during heart's core, Hamlet touched his cheek and leaned forward half, as though he were going to kiss him)

Oh, I started crying when Polonius was killed. I don't mind blood, I don't mind wounds, I want to be a doctor, but oh. I hate it when things are killed, and I hate it when things are killed like that. And he was bleeding all over the floor, and it was pooling, and Gertrude tried to wash it up, and it was all over her hands--and then Hamlet, all over his shirt and his hands and a bit on his face by his mouth; and he spread it on Claudius by kissing him, and--oh. I-- oh. Oh.

Poor Laertes.

...Oh, and Fortinbras was neeeeeat. Also he presumably had a no-smoking policy in his army. ^____~ Because he made his captain put out his cigarette. Hee. And he has a wonderful beard, and such a taken-charge manner when he came in at the end.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern looked positively backwards; but Guildenstern was angry when Hamlet was being mad after the play, and he was angry. And when Hamlet insisted he play the pipe. I don't remember when it was I saw Guildenstern almost cry when Hamlet did that...

Oh. It was good. It really was.

And Horatio...!