The roses I bought on Saturday are practically dead. When I went to buy them I was hoping for peonies but they were in season two months ago, so it was roses or lilies or pretty much nothing. Although this week I might get orchids instead. But I shouldn't. I'm not done with roses yet so that's what I should keep on doing, although it does seem a frightful bore. It always bothers me that there's only a finite amount one can do in any given year, and looking back it's always so terribly little; and whenever I think about it for any length of time I get uncomfortable and make resolutions about rationing my time which I generally don't follow through on and by and large the whole affair is a source of considerable discomfort to me. But I've decided that two months of my life in exchange for learning how to draw flowers is a fair trade, so I've achieved a degree of peace in this respect for the moment.

So tonight I saw Bright Young Things. It was nice to go somewhere other than home after work. It was very atmospheric, although it didn't have anything very explicit to say, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. Actually, I suppose the message (what an outmoded concept) was probably just the febrility of the social milieu it depicted, and it got that across very well. And the language after a while ceases to be novel and becomes expressive, which is good, and quite interesting; it's nice to see what people used to say in the twenties instead of 'whatever' and 'lame'. So you should probably see it.

I got signed up automatically yesterday for automated horoscopes and weather forecasts via SMS. Today I got the following:

LEO You may be overly self-critical or clumsy in career matters, Leo. But a little romance may lift your spirits.

Charming.