marmite breath slept here

Dear Harvey Walden, (I want to call you Harv, but I know you'd kick my ass)

I thought we had something special going on.  I've had this sick crush on you for months now.  I'm sorry you had to find out this way.  It's just that whenever I think about eating something that's bad for me, I hear your voice in my head telling me to put it down and do some jumping jacks.  You're there when I weigh myself (naked) every morning, and you are with me when I exercise (not naked, thank the Lord).  I adore your "tough love" philosophy, Sir, and your split "meanie/sexpot" personality.  It's fantabulous.

So, my question, darling Harvey, is where the hell were you today when I made Nigella's fairy cakes?  Why didn't you make me pour the batter down the disposal?  Why didn't you use your forces of kickassery to convince me that salad is a much better dessert option?  Oh, Harvey Walden, sexy yet frightening, be with me in my darkest hour.  I noticed today that they've started selling Cadbury's cream eggs again.  Easter's on it's way, and I'll need you now, more than ever, you hunky brute!

Lots of Love Always,

Marmite Breath

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Is my life really so boring that I am commenting on the weather?  Say it ain't so!

Okay, but really, it's bleepin' cold!  We've got a low of -7 here today!  (That's -21 for my English readers).

It's definitely curling up by the fire weather.  Eating soup or chili weather.  Drinking hot chocolate weather.  Eating mass spoonfuls of chocolate spread while hiding in the coat closet weather.  Oh, wait, erm, sorry, I let my issues out for a moment and they ran a bit wild.  Won't happen again.

I'll settle for a cup of tea.  Then I need to mop the floor while the kids are in the basement cleaning up the playroom.  I can't believe how freaking glamourous my life is!  I know you're all jealous.  I can hear the whispers now......"How come she gets to mop floors?   How did she get lucky enough to get the dog that eats bits of plastic? Why can't I spend my day splitting up two squabbling children?" 

I know, people.  Envy me. 

PS) Before I get any indignant emails, I know that many of you DO live the same sort of life.  Bravo to us all, I say!!  Being a Stay at Home mother is the best thing I've ever chosen to do, and I don't regret it, but damn, some days it's tedious.   Not that I was turning down some fabulous career though, and as I have taken to lamenting recently, I'm not qualified to do a damn thing.  I'm not feeling sorry for myself, I'm just sayin'.

I must announce the grand countdown to my 30th birthday.  Less than a month!   I not only feel old, but I look it too.  I've got the grey hair, the wrinkles, AND I was called ma'am yesterday by a whippersnapper who must have been only 7 years younger than me.   I pulled my headscarf tighter around my curlers and hurried out of there! 

Hayley emailed me a picture last week, and man, it took me back.  If you can get past my horrible hair (I swear, it was long, it was just in some sort of clipped nightmare/low ponytail sort of thing) then the picture is really quite touching.   This was after we all found out that I was moving to America, so if I remember rightly, we all went mad taking pictures every five minutes.  Now I'm sad.  :(

This length of this entry will depend entirely on whether I manage to write it without barfing.  I just ate a rather large meal and thought it would be a good idea to top it off with two enormous helpings of trifle.  I can talk all I want about how it was practically health food due to the fact that it was made with fat free stuff, but c'mon, when you eat two huge helpings, it's not really, well, helping.  The diet, that is.

Good news is, I am now on day TWO, yes, that's right, day TWO of getting up at stupid o'clock in the morning and exercising.  Tomorrow will be the true test.  Will I roll over and mutter, "Being thin is overrated" or will I get up and just move???   Stay tuned!!   One thing is sure, I will be wearing my earphones, because damn, the woman on the exercise video is ANNOYING and way too perky.  Nobody is that perky!!

Anyway, nothing much going on around here.  Today is Valentine's day.  As my little Sylvia Plath daughter  would say, in a "I could really not care less" sort of voice, "How fascinating".  

 Sexy Carpenter bought me a stretchie exercise band that I wanted.  It may not sound romantic, but it was very sweet of him. He knew I wanted one.  I got a lovely card too, and he bought some choccies for the kids.  I, on the other hand, think that Valentine's day is a "load of wubbish" (copyright Tom), and I don't really celebrate it.  I usually get my lovah a card, but I didn't even do that this year.  I just can't stand all the PRESSURE!  Who needs it?  I have enough pressure in my life.  True, most of it is self-inflicted, but still. 

Kids are off school for the next week.   Don't forget to check the nightly news for the report in which I am discovered with my head in the oven.

There is now a mountain of dishes in the sink.  Don't suppose they'll clean themselves. 

*slumps off to kitchen grumbling in manner of downtrodden woman*

P.S) If anyone has any interesting news, email me.  I am stuck in the middle of nowhere and am thirsty for information about the people I love.  Hell, I'll even settle for information about the people I merely tolerate. (Rhonda, I'm looking at you).   Kidding, please don't beat me!

I had the most fun weekend!!  The Divine Miss M came up for an all-too-fleeting visit.  We've known each other since high school, back when I was quite the wannabe tragic poet.  Megs, on the other hand, has always been an actual poet.  In fact, I dragged out all her old letters and poems, along with yearbooks and photos, and I have not laughed so hard in a long time.  Nobody can write dirty limericks about our yearbook rep like Miss M.  I even read her some excerpts from my tragically hip diary of 1993, back when I had a crush on someone who is now, according to my source (okay, it was Megs) someone who commits gynelogical atrocities while quoting Bible verses.  Damn, I really knew how to pick em' back then.

This weekend we drank margaritas, hashed out old issues, (why were you mad at me in this note?), watched bad TV while making fun of it, talked about our old teachers, and basically relived 1993-1996.  We talked about what we did during the months that we didn't speak--not because there was any animosity, but because, Megs reminded me, we were all completely losing our shit.  She's right.  But even when we weren't in touch, we still heard what the other was doing, thanks to the fact that her brother and my sister are the best of friends.  There's was so much stuff to talk about, and it was cathartic.

Miss M made me laugh all weekend.  We laughed at the kids, we laughed at Sexy Carpenter, we laughed at photos of us when we were teenagers.  We even laughed over car wrecks, which is just wrong, except it was us that was involved, so it's okay.  The good thing is, Meg remembers everything.  She reminded me of so many incidents that I never would have thought about again, if it weren't for her.  I really must have a shitty memory, (which doesn't help to dispel my huge fear lately that I have a brain tumour.)   I needed the laughs, I really did.  I didn't even mind the embarrassing memories, such as me doing drunken handstands on the front steps of the dormitory, or how many shitty Harley Davidson cigarettes we smoked because we couldn't afford Marlboros.  Ugh.

Why did it feel so good to be seventeen again?  I don't know, and I don't care.  I managed to forget that I am knocking on 30's door.   It was rad.  See, I've regressed!!

So now, I get to look forward to being a giggly girl with Miss M and Miss Krusty, when Miss Krusty gets married in September.  There we'll be, all decked out in our finery, standing at the altar,  and I can see it all now:  it will only take one innocent fart to start a riot.   The priest will faint, Krusty's husband-to-be will recoil in horror, and us girls, we'll just laugh our asses off.

I can't wait.

Oh, and don't forget to read Meg's take on the weekend.  She's ever so much more eloquent than I am, and don't think I don't hate her for it either.

Okay, I have to vent. And if you're offended by language, don't read on.  I'm hormonal.  And pissy.

 What the hell is the deal with Americans making their own versions of Brit TV shows?  Can't American TV executives think of their own ideas for a TV show??

 The worst part of it is, when they steal the actual show (like, not just make an American version of it) they completely dub the accents into American.  Uh, the original language is not FOREIGN!!  Why would you dub it into American???  I don't get it.  Is the standard English accent hard for people to understand? (and nobody email me and tell me that there is no standard English accent--I mean the Home Counties accent that all foreigners recognize).  We're not talking Newcastle or anything!!  I think they only do it on kids programmes, because I watch Vicar of Dibley and all my other ones and they haven't touched those.  I would have to stick my head in the oven if they messed with that.  How could Alice be American?? 

So far they've left Wallace and Gromit alone too.  Huge sigh of relief there.

Bob the Builder, right?  Great little show for kids.  The Americans get a hold of it and change all the accents!!  Bob is an ENGLISH builder, he's not from freaking Omaha!  It makes me want to scream.  I was so excited when I found out that we could get The Tweenies on Noggin.......until I found out that Bella, Fizz and the rest of the gang sound like they're from New Jersey. 

Strange thought:  Why don't they dub the accents on The Wiggles?

I did see, however, that they've completely left the accents alone on Balamory, which, honestly, if they're going to dub any accents into American, they should have done it with the Scottish ones!  (Only kidding, I love Haggis Heads).

I don't know how many times I've tried to buy videos or DVDs off Amazon and been all excited because it's a British production and my kids can see it, and then I get it and find out it's all Americanized.  It really is heartbreaking for me.  I can't buy Brit videos or DVDs because I've only got a region 1 player.  I know I should branch out and buy a multi region one, but we're poor.  I DID find (and thank the Lord for that) some region 1 copies of DangerMouse (Tom loves it) and Postman Pat.  Also just got a copy of Granpa (based on the book).  I sob and sob and sob every time I watch it. (I love you Grandad, just in case you've got the internet up there).

 Thank God there aren't any words in The Snowman, because they would have dubbed that aswell.  They DID screw up Father Christmas which is on the American DVD.  Sigh.  Dear Mel Smith, I'm sorry you got screwed by having your voice taken off the DVD and replaced by a Los Angeleno!!

Now onto the blatant copying of ideas and how sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't.

The Office.    Absolute Classic!!  And amazingly, it works as an American version too, thanks to Steve Carell.  He's no David Brent, but he is funny as hell and I do like this version (although not QUITE as much as Gervais' version).

Who Wants to be a Millionaire.     Oy Vey!   Quite addictive in whatever country you're watching it in, but wears on your nerves too.  Can't ever get comfortable with the idea of Chris Tarrant doing anything but Tizwas, but that's because I live in a time bubble from my childhood.

Big Brother.  Seeing as how I will never admit that I watch it, I can't comment.  Okay, I do get completely addicted to it every time I come home, but I really have never seen the U.S version, so no comparison from me.  Did that even originate in Britain?  I'll have to find out.

Coupling.  UGH!!!  Tragic.  It was brilliant in the original.  Sucked and got cancelled as American series.

Cracker.  Didn't see the American version, but it never should have been copied anyway.  You can't improve on Robbie Coltrane in ANYTHING!! 

Um, trying to think of more.

Oh, Weakest Link.   I don't give a shit, I hate Anne Robinson.  Wherever she happens to be.

Pop Idol/American Idol.  I haven't seen Pop Idol (I know!!!! but I do keep up with the progress because I read The Sun every day, so I know who Will, Gareth, Michelle etc are) but I am an American Idol fan.  I don't mind that they copied that because we've still got Simon in it.  (Simon, call me!).

Robbie the Reindeer.  Okay, look, the rule is, if the original has Jane Horrocks in it, for blankety blanks sake, please don't replace her in the American version with Britney Spears.  For the sake of all that is holy, please!!!  I thought it was bad when I started seeing episodes of Thomas the Tank Engine with George Carlin narrating in place of Ringo Starr.  That's not dubbing though, that's just assholian casting.

They're bringing out a version of Creature Comforts too.  I won't even watch.  I read the article about it and just thought "Oh for fuck's sake, please get your OWN IDEAS!!!!"

I read the other day that they're making an American version of Top of the Pops.  Oh, please no!

One show that we are all in love with is Charlie and Lola.  It pleases me greatly that they've left the accents alone on that one.  It's very funny and would have been ruined by changing anything.  The kids love it.  Be warned though, if I turn on Disney channel and they've dubbed it using Hayley Joel Osment and Dakota Fanning, I will go slightly mental. 

I suppose I'm wondering why they'll dub a TV show, but not a feature film.  Millions of American children have gone to see Harry Potter films, but they don't dub those.  However, they have arsed up the books over here.  The first book is called The Sorcerer's Stone, because apparently they felt that Americans wouldn't buy a book called The Philosopher's Stone.  I'm rolling my eyes here.  It's retarded. 

 I get just as mad when they change certain words in the books too.  I understand that the children would have to go and pick up a dictionary to find out what a bin is instead of a trash can (although if they can't tell from context, then they have bigger problems than I thought) but do we really think that kids don't need to learn what other countries call things?? Every time I read the books, I notice every word that they've changed.   I think you lose so much when you start substituting local things into different versions of books and stuff. 

 Next thing they'll be substituting all Harry and chums' conversations.  Instead of Ron saying "Bloody Hell" they'll have him using popular American swear words.  It'll be " That Motherfucker Voldemort's about to get a cap in his ass!"    Kids hear that all the time, right?  

And we can't have them play Quidditch, because our poor little American children aren't familiar with the game, so we'll play "Let's Steal Ideas From Other Countries". 

Americans are good at that game.

 (Edited to Add: I know this post is venomous and horrible, but I really don't care.)

 (Edited to add again:  Fair Play, I remember seeing a British version of Blue's Clue's with a Liverpudlian hosting.  Or was I dreaming?

NB: If you're American, in order to make sense of this entry, you'll need a quick lesson on rhyming slang and you'll need to know that Granby Halls used to be a skating rink in Leicester.  Carry on!  :)

Just had a chuckle to myself while I was making dinner.  I was thinking about Tom's doctor visit last week.  It was his Four Year Check Up, so they were doing all the usual questions, tests, etc.  The doc was checking his meat and two veg (Tom's, not his own, although that would have been fine too, since he was really attractive in a "If you weren't married and I wasn't married and we existed in a completely different time and space we'd totally be married to eachother" sort of way). 

But, I digress.

So he's checking Tom's bits, and all of a sudden, Tom starts just HOWLING with laughter and mad giggles and starts shrieking, "You're tickling my granbys!  You're tickling my granbys".  At this, the doctor looks at me like my son has just escaped from the nuthouse.  I didn't know where to look.  I thought about pretending that Tom was speaking Italian and that "granby" was the sophisticated Italian word for testacle, but no.  I just stood there feeling completely ridiculous and kept speaking out the side of my mouth, "Tom, keep STILL for God's sake"

All this can be blamed on my cousin, Dean.  In fact, he's the reason that BOTH of my children name their privates the things that they do (tell THAT one to your therapist, Cuz).

Hadleigh asked me the other day why it was called a Minkie.  I had to explain that when my cousin Dean came to visit us right after she was born, he was in the room while I was changing her, and noticed that she had a little rash.  "Awww, her poor little minkie's all red" he exclaimed.  I couldn't help steal that word.  He also was kind enough to introduce me to the word "granbys" although I'm under no illusions that he made that up, or anything.  :)   

 I know, I know.  I never said this blog would always be classy and informative.(Voice from peanut gallery: "Er, was it ever?")  Sometimes it's just my brain all splattered out on the web for all to see.