Oh, dear, sorry! If it's any consolation, I have a pristine, cellophane-wrapped copy of the new Bioshock which I am not allowing myself to install and play until I've finished these paper updates. Think of all this happy postmodern Austen as a carrot! incentive! a reward once you've slogged through the necessary! Sometimes it's the only way I slog through the necessary.

(p.s. it's a truth universally acknowledged that friends who are fellow Austen geeks are prized beyond rubies. This stuff is so much more fun if it's shared).