I don't need diamond rings
-6
As a 1930s wife, I am
Very Poor (Failure)
Take the test!
...I wonder if ticking the "reacts to marital congress with enthusiasm and delight" box scored me Good Wife or Bad Wife points? And if it rated more importantly than wearing red nail polish or doing the cooking in my pyjamas?
I am reminded of my grandmother, an actual 1930s Wife, doing the cooking in her dressing gown with a cigarette dangling from her lips, dropping ash in the food. Fuck it, they were happy together, more or less. And my grandmother rocked, hardass mathematical bitch that she was.
In other news, I'm still blown away from Forest of the Dead. I have a friend who reminds me so very strongly of the Doctor, and David Tennant's Doctor* in particular, that it's just not funny and it's never struck me more strongly than it has in this episode.
"Everybody knows that everybody dies. And nobody knows it like the Doctor. But I do think that all the skies of all the worlds might just turn dark if he ever, for one moment, accepts it."
*Not you, if you're reading this. You're Tom Baker's Doctor, and a little of Sylvester McCoy's. (Edited to add: Almost forgot Jon Pertwee. You're the only man I know who could carry off that opera cape thing.) And you both know who you are. Don't try and tell me you don't.