maybe a world i can call mine, shining like the street lights

I announced to the room, as we were watching Eddington and Einstein, that I couldn't see people at Oxford, pre-1930, in their dress without thinking they're gay; approximately a minute later, R announced that Eddington was in fact gay.

I'm not sure what to make of this (except maybe cry - David Tennat is such an amazing actor, something I think I underappreciated when he was playing Who).

I'm faintly annoyed that Eddington & Einstein didn't come out before the yuletide deadline; I can't help think you could write some excellent stories inspired by it.

Speaking of yuletide (but not my story, which I have yet to start), I really want to get to the archive and see if they have any Donald Strachey fics. Because apparently, the way to deal with dissertation stress is to watch pulp-y gay crime thrillers. It's very entertaining and I massively adore the relationship between Donald and Timmy - mostly Timmy, because he's so sweet and long-suffering. But then again, I always have a thing for the partner. And the films are just - not pointless fluff, exactly, but romps, crime romps, entertainng to watch and not demanding too much energy.

Which is good, 'cause I have very little.

In other news: Warwick kind of fails on a number of levels, and I'm off to Newcastle on Wednesday. Whee!