That’s me when my Mom was making a fool of herself telling Mr. Bingly how pretty my sister is. Gawd! Mums are like so naff! Somebody shoot me! Cringe.
That’s me getting all cross after Wickham tells me how mean Darcy cheated him out of his inheritance. Cringe.
That’s me as the creepy clergyman Mr. Collins proposes — gross! I say no, and he takes it as a yes! Um..no means no, Mr. Collins. Cringe.
That’s me turning down Darcy at his aunt’s house. And acting so high and mighty. And telling him what an ass he is. And that he is the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry. Cringe.
That’s me learning the truth about Wickham, and how wrong I’d been about Darcy. Me who had prided myself on my discernment. Cringe.
That’s me seeing how big his own house was. I mean, it was frickin’ museum. And what was I even doing there? Being a tourist? Or was I stalking Darcy? And then who shows up! Darcy! Cringe!
That’s me at our wedding when I was so happy. Then the realization hits me — that getting married really is the best a woman can hope to achieve in this day and age.
I have reached the summit.
Oh well, at least I’m super fucking rich now.