Friday, January 25, 2008

Mr. Darcy

There has been much discussion as to the identity of a possible ‘Mr. Darcy’ in my life. I have heard suggested from various unique sources that he will be from Zambia, Scotland, England, Mexico and any other place I mention no matter how casual the reference. (The original Mr. Darcy never made an appearance while at Chatsworth. Be still my beating heart.)

Mr. T is constantly bringing him up (see previous comments on this blog:P). At work I have coworkers/my boss who update me on any new arrival to my place of work who is male. Age, availability, compatibility and belief systems are duly ignored. Today I was informed that a specific dealer is “single, Angelina”.

A dear, close friend pulled me aside at church the other week and enthusiastically whispered a name in my ear and then looked at me with raised eyebrows. Older ladies inform me after they travel where I need to travel (there was this boy…).

Various ones have informed me that they are praying for me in my hour of need (do I look desperate?!).

Sometimes I get royally ticked. Sometimes I roll my eyes. Sometimes I get up on my soap box. Most often I laugh and thank God people love me enough to care.


Mr T said...

Hey - when did this all get changed?

Israel could have made it through the wilderness in two weeks or so. But instead they took forty years because they wouldn't listen.

I think we are trying to help you do the easy route my dear. In forty years, you will have less appeal for Mr Darcy, so you need to make hay while the sun shines.

BUT - only listen to ME!

AND - make sure you catch Krista's bouquet.

Mr T said...

Further reflections upon hearing of a Manitoban wedding held in a blizzard...

1. The Manitoban couple is thus prepared for a lifetime of winter hardship

2. The Manitoban way of life is preserved from outside intrusion by dwellers in Vancouver and Toronto

3. The wedding party is fortified in its resolve that either it must seek romantic companionship in life from the circle of friendship already known to itself, or remain forever within a hopeless dreamworld permeated by English lords, sunshine, daffodils, and carriages.

Gabrielle Touchette said...

oh Angelina. Move to Winnipeg already and I'll hook you up. With all my wonderful connections. ha! :)

Anonymous said...

haha i like this post angelina:):) very quaint:):) you're a good writer. although you do tend towards hyperbole at times.

krista said...

sorry i didn't know i could leave my name.