I’m not very good on my own. Never have been. I finally lived alone at 28 for a year and learnt ways to enjoy it. Most of them involved making my house obsessively neat and pretty, watching a lot of films, reading compulsively and having a drink or two.
I had the opportunity to re-live that time this weekend as M went away to London to see a gig. I set myself up with an excellent film marathon on the Saturday afternoon and night, had a stash of film magazines to get through and watched one of my Top 100 films
I’m not going to gild the truth. I didn’t get out of my pyjamas, I did employ the duvet, I did drink one too many Singapore Slings and I did review the films with my crocheted Hobbes. I’m not ashamed, it was a great day.
Anyway – the films! My Man Godfrey is amazing – I love William Powell and have added The Thin Man to my wishlist. The two other films weren’t as amazing, but Jack Lemmon is in them so I don’t really care.