Christina (Reading Thru The Night)'s Reviews > Emma

Emma by Jane Austen
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Dearest Emma -

I must admit, you're pretty allright. I adore your quick wit, your ability to vocalize your opinions and know when to hold your tongue. (Except with Miss Bates, but I suppose we all say impolite things once and a while, huh?)

I'd like to think that if you were around in now you'd be the type of chick that I might be able to go and get my nails done and do a shot of soco with Too much to ask for perhaps? But to be honest, I reckon I might have some misgivings on being a close friend of yours. Your, er, gift of playing cupid might leave us in a bit of a predicament. Plus, and please don't take offense to this because you do carry yourself well, but can we say need for center of attention much? I bet if I met you now, you'd be that super cool girl that has the nerdy friend who tells all of her other nerdy friends, "You just don't get it. She really is a good person deep down."

Which leads me to my next thought: your devotion to your father? Emma that just shows you how pure your heart is. Really. Any time I thought, nay spoke out loud to you, about your inconsiderations, I reminded myself of poor Mr. Woodhouse. You treasure your father and because of that I cannot help but treasure you. And oh yes, you know when to challenge him. How many times was he going to whine about 'poor Miss Taylor' eh? You are good with him. Maybe not with all old people (did you ever really bat an eye toward Mrs. Bates?) but that will suffice.
And really. . . how could you not have noticed Mr. Knightley sooner than you did? It takes your wannabe to crush on him before you're like, "Whoah! I'm in love with Mr. Knightley". Seriously, girl. I'd be all over that in a heartbeat if he was my contemporary.

So, about that manicure.

<3 ya!



Dear McNoble (aka Knightley),

Hiya. Wanna get hitched or something? No. Really. You are one hot cookie. Mr. Darcy who?



Dear Mr. Woodhouse,

If you were with us now, they'd give you medication for what you got.

Bless you,


PS. No, there is not a draught in this room.


Dear Mrs. Elton,

You are the kinda persons that end up on Jerry Springer you know that? It's called, "I'm My Man's Second Choice and Now I'm Bitter". Get a grip, honey. You ain't all that. And Mr. Elton? You know what is insinuated nowadays about men with egos that big? No? Well, lucky for you I'm a proper blogger and don't want to get spammed with the option of order pumps or pills to increase stamina. Let your imagination do the rest.


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