Divorced,beheaded,died; Divorced, beheaded,slob

Charles still not Queen - after all these years...

Alright, so I admit that I am a very late (as in only 2 days ago) jumper onto the bandwagon of the Royale Wedding.  But now that I'm here, I'm all atwitter.
All atwitter at poor Kate Middleton and her obvious fall from adulthood to infanthoody.  At least according to The Daily Mail.


To wit (to woo):

- Enjoying her last days of freedom: Kate Middleton skips along the King's Road like any normal 29-year-old (at least she's getting married before turning 30, which is what my sister said to me).
-  Kate 'will not obey': Bride will follow Diana's lead and ditch ancient vow as she pledges to 'love, comfort, honour and keep'

And wouldn't you want to leap back into the soggy womb when confronted with this vision of your future
- The inexorable, crinoline parachute drop into endless dowdy dowagerdom.


Although I must say that the writing is quite brilliant in that last nightmare scenario.

Then again we have the usual MacBeth wedding reference:
- Call for special branch! Workmen create Kate's indoor forest at the Abbey


Now, why, you may ask, is this of any interest to me whatsoever. 
Well apart from the general knowledge of outre ersatz cultural events so I can win at Trivial Pursuit (does anyone play that any more? Is it all now extraordinarily specific; 1980's female rock stars, HBO documentaries, Doomsday scenarios from the past 3,000 years? It's not even a game really is it), really nothing, nada, de nada but since I grew up with this nonsense, it's like old home week in the looney bin.


Which should have put me in good stead at a recent audition - the whole 'oh good, a native British speaker auditioning for a native British play' - but instead of either a) waltzing in and stealing the role or, well actually there is no b) this time.

But I embarrassed myself and possibly all of North London. I found myself putting on an english accent.  Yes you read that right.  I WAS PUTTING ON AN ENGLISH ACCENT.  How, how, how is this even possible? It wasn't as though I was putting on a Cheshire Cheese or Cockney cartoon accent.  Nor was I trying for the Beeb or London accent or even Received English.  I was just me, with what has been referred to as a prep-school accent (right Jono?).

I guess it's rather like realising that you can't walk down the stairs if you are thinking about how to walk down the stairs.  Brain suddenly gets confused.

Like throwing car keys away just because ones' tooth fell out.
Not in a horrifyingly public way but just because one begins to be decrepit after a point. Or maybe the word is 'decrepify' which then leads to all sorts of things - NB- This powerful curse (the aforementioned Decrepify) lowers movement and attack speed, as well as reducing all resistances (physical, poison, magic, fire, cold, lightening)by 50%.
All well and good, but that doesn't really whiten my teeth  does it. Yes I'm talking to YOU Mr. Rembrandt. Liar, liar pants on fire. 

Or having English teeth. No, it's not an excuse, but it does save me time knowing that no matter what, flossing just wont help.  It wasn't only the sweets consumption as a child but it was the horror of going to Harley Street and being told that I needed fillings and was given fillings without the use of novocaine.  Yes, my American friends, novocaine wasn't used in England when I was growing up - and no, we aren't talking about the 1930's - we're talking about the Carnaby Street Era - Mary Quant, Biba, Vidal Sassoon being my mum's hair stylist, Crank's.
My father used to try and jolly up the whole situation by writing on my teeth 'drill, baby, drill' - wait he didn't write that, he wrote pro-labour messages to the dentist though - on his teeth. I got the special dissolving lozange that was supposed to create foaming at the mouth, timed to start as I got into the chair but of course didn't.  I started looking rabid right around the Royal Academy of Music (where I spent portions of my time being scared witless by adjudicators who pronounced me, musical but sloppy). Sloppy. Slattern. Slovenly.

And who in their right mind would even mention the future QofE after that?

Well the Press of course:

- In a branch of Whistles, Kate even bought The Kate, a blouse so-called because it was the one she wore in her Mario Testino engagement photographs. Perhaps she spilled soup on the original.



Love you guys

Muzak Stole My Boyfriend's Soul

  (and I apologise in advance for the use of screaming CAPS)

I don't even know what that means as I was, not exactly, drunk, but certainly not in my right mind.
One of those, 'What are you KIDDING ME?' moments.
Of course I know about Muzak.
It was a company. In Omaha.
How did I know about it?  How does ANYONE know about ANYTHING I wanted to scream over my Arnold Palmer (I can't believe I admitted to drinking that).

At least I can't remember knowing where I learned much.  (That's not even a sentence is it)

SNBF however trumps my story (as he always seems to do - in a very sneaky yet masterful way), of knowing about Muzak from friends who were studio musicians in Omaha, by telling me that, when, as a young tyke, he got some sort of decoder from Muzak and learned how to separate the Music/Muzak from regular FM (like I understood any of this) because of a Popular Electronics subscription he was given by grownup friends in the States

I thought the story ended there, but no. Of course not.

Because then I learn that he worked with a Muzak system on his Kibbutz (you did know he was an Israeli, right - which can give y'all an easy stereotype) - and then when he rushed off to NYC he installed Muzak through 'phone lines, which was, apparently, completely backwards.

OR SOMETHING

 And I was so proud about Nebraska of all things.

Nebraska - my experience of which was screaming the entire way across the state because it was so damn FLAT and UGLY.
Iowa's rolling hills (yes I said something positive about Iowa. So sue me) at my back.
 The Rockies in front of me, my head stuck out the passenger window like a dog.

A screaming dog.

I don't think we stopped to eat, pee or sight-see, unless you count my (then) husband* pointing south and saying, 'That's Lincoln'.

And I'm not exaggerating.  South Park bears this out: http://www.southparkstudios.com/clips/150953/grandma-song



But what I really wanted to write about was the moaning and whining of men when they get a cold.
A cold.
A COLD
A COLD

You'd think they'd just been diagnosed with terminal Pneumonia and limb-falling-off disease.

babies. all of them.

And as a sign-off - My best friend was just outed on Facebook by her daughter.
What did the poor stressed woman dare to do?

Eat a gallon of Ben and Jerry's Vermonty Python/ Coldstone Cookie Batter ice-cream.


This is NOT A CRIME.

What IS a crime is driving across Nebraska without the aid of an IV Morphine drip, sunglasses and a coke.




*need an appellation for ex-husband if I insist on mentioning him.  Possibly 'exH'.

CT scan or Psych ward - You decide

Alrighty everyone - I had started a blog on WordPress a week ago, but I'm too much of an html-moron, so decided to come over here.
 What put me in a real snit was, that at WordPress, which I am sure is a very elegant site, I couldn't even manage to change the size of the font.
So that's me in a nutshell. Impatient and unable to punctuate.
So why is this night different from, say, all other nights one might have time to make the change?
I am sitting with my 83 year old mum in urgent care while dealing with ex-husband having some sort of psychotic break half a mile away.
I just had surgery 2 weeks ago and was hoping against hope that when I got home, at least one of the cats would be dead.

oh god - my mother is impossible.

Like that's news

Damn You, Super New Boyfriend!

Damn You, Super New Boyfriend!

Four month anniversary and I get myself into a stupid argument with boyfriend. How dare he break-up with me so respectfully, and then unbreak-up with such aplomb?

What happened to the good old days when I pushed out the screen window in the kitchen and bonked my ex-husband on the head with a frying pan?
Or, later that same night, he said he was willing to stay outside if I would give him his guitar so I opened the front door and threw it at him.  But it got caught on my sweater. And I didn’t laugh.  If I had – the marriage could have been saved. I PINKY SWEAR.

I also double pinky-swear that my father gave me a marble rolling-pin as a wedding present

However, these are new times.
Super New Boyfriend or New Super Boyfriend – can’t decide which – wont put up with such nonsense and therefore actually helped me pack up all the stuff that I had moved into his house. No self-pity, no nothing. Just plain helpful.

Of course I refused his help dragging it all out to my car. Myself.  Which took about an hour because he kept trying to talk to me, calmly.
Which seemed to have a positive yet narcoleptic effect on me.  I fell asleep in the car even before I  put the key in the ignition.
About half an hour later – I woke up to him knocking on the window and asking me to come back into the house and to bed so I could sleep.

I am being dragged – kicking and screaming – into an adult relationship.

I have had the excuse of living by my father’s words on a postcard he sent. In 1982 when I was going to move in with a boyfriend. The postcard was a photograph of housemaids c. 1900 doing the can-can.
On the back he wrote: “…And any sign of domesticity saddens the tooth-fairy”.

But now, no more hiding in the bushes feeling sorry for myself that no one came to look for me or breaking into a hotel room where my then husband was hiding out with  his 19 year-old girlfriend who was sprawled on the bed reading the ‘Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition (DSM-IV)’ {and for those of you who don’t know, I will be spilling that story soon},
nor walking across town at 4am from 10th street between Avenues A & B (across from Tompkins Square Park pre-Giuliani crackdown) to 148 Bank street and West , because boyfriend fell asleep before I did.

And almost being shot in the stomach by a bunch of Brooklyn Boys out for a night in the West Village – probably harassing the locals.

Oh, that.

Well I wasn’t in a very good mood having walked all the way from the East Village without a key to my apartment (but there was no way I could go back and get it now was there?) and as I got close to Chumley’s and the secret Barrow street entrance – this bunch of about 6 guys passed me, and whistled or something (those were the days).  I was so angry – that I yelled Italian curses at them – well not exactly curses, just filthy penis-y sort of things -the equivalent of the  ’Your mother is so………..’  jokes.  They turned and pushed me against a railing and one guy took out a gun and put it to my chest and asked me to repeat what I said.

Time kinda stopped. I don’t know what I said or did but he brandished his gun and then the pack of them turned and continued down the street.

I bid a hasty retreat, but at the corner turned and swore at them again.

Then I ran and hid in a doorway.

They were too bored to deal with that outburst so I carried on home and managed to get into my apartment.

I had forgotten that there was a  pizza still on the wall. We had nailed it there the previous day. No memory of why we did that.

And even if I did remember, does it really matter?

Later this morning I get my stitches out.

Back to near normal.

A 10 month relationship condensed

WHAT?
HOW DARE YOU. 
WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME. I LOVE YOU. I AM IN TURMOIL. 
I LIKE COFFEE YOU LIKE TEA. OH MY GOD MY LIFE IS TERRIBLE. I HAVE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER. WHY DO YOU ALWAYS INSIST THAT NOTHING IS WRONG. EVERYTHING IS PERFECT.
I AM SMILING THROUGH THE TEARS/I AM CRYING BECAUSE I AM LAUGHING SO HARD.
THE DRUGS ARE WORKING.

I DON’T THINK THE DRUGS ARE WORKING.
JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT. NO DON’T. WE NEVER AGREE. HOW COME YOU KNOW ME SO WELL. 
GET ME OFF THIS RIDE. NO WAIT I’M DRIVING. WHERE ARE WE GOING. DON’T ASK JUST LOOK AT A MAP. OH YOU’RE DRIVING. I’LL ASK. 
WHAT SHOULD I DO. WHY DO YOU ALWAYS TELL ME WHAT TO DO.

I NEED TO DRINK A PEPSI TO SEE HOW I FEEL ABOUT COKE. 
THIS WILL NEVER WORK OUT. I AM IN PAIN. WHY CAN’T YOU SEE THAT. I AM SHOWING YOU. SEE? WHY AREN’T YOU LOOKING.  HEY, OVER HERE.  I’M OVER HERE. NO, A BIT TO THE LEFT, NO TWO INCHES BACK TO THE RIGHT. I’M WEARING RED. WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME. WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME SUFFER.
I CAN’T TALK TO YOU. I WILL PHONE IN 2 MINUTES.
WHY DIDN’T YOU ANSWER THE PHONE?
DON’T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE?
WHY DO WE DO THIS TO EACH OTHER?

THERE WILL NEVER BE ANYONE ELSE BUT YOU, BUT I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE. YOU CAN, BUT I CAN’T. NO I MEAN THAT I COULD, BUT YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND THAT THE DRUGS HAVEN’T KICKED IN. WHEN THEY DO. I’LL WRITE AGAIN. OKAY?
WHAT DO YOU MEAN “OKEY-DOKEY”? 
I’M SUFFERING HERE. WHY DO YOU PUT ME DOWN ALL THE TIME. NO I’M NOT REALLY ASKING. 
I’M JUST TALKING. 
CALMLY. 
CAN’T YOU SEE THAT I LOVE YOU?

REM Sleep Behaviour Disorder is FUN!

Don’t know if I dreamed in MadLib style or just fell asleep whilst playing.

Anyway – This,Ta-Da, was my dream:

I was  in  (place name)_______________________ with (names of some nice people)_____________________.

Outside it was very (adj.)______________ and (adj.)____________________.

My (family member)__________________ told us that a ( adj)_____________(animal)_______________ was hiding in the
(noun)_______________________. We all ( verb past tense)_____________________(interjection)”__________________”.

Luckily my (family member)__________________ and (family members best friend)__________________ and (family members significant other)________________________ (verb past tense)______________the (animal)_______________ with a (noun)_________________.It was (finite verb)___________________.

Then I went to the (adj)________________(noun)___________________.
My (adj)______________________(family member)_________________________ was being (verb)___________________.
It was very (adj)________________________.
My (family member) said (inappropriate phrase #1)________________________ and then (inappropriate phrase #2)____________________________. I said (command)___________________________!

Then I went back (preposition)________________ the (noun)_______________.
Everybody and their (plural nouns)___________________were  (adverb)_____________(action)____________.

Then a (adjective taken from American Psychiatric Association Personality Disorder list)___________________ (family member from midwest state beginning with an ‘I’, and it’s not mum)__________________________________began
(auxiliary verb)___________________(absolute phrase)________________ and then (discontinuous noun phrase)________________.
We all ate some (food)__________________
and  then(prepositional phrase consisting of a gerund and past participle) and then (run on sentence)_______________________________________________________________________(no i don’t know what I’m talking about either)____________________________before heading off to (vacation spot)_____________________for some  (verb/noun)_________________________.

So, in retrospect (famous saying)_________________that (redundant phrase)___________________ so sayeth The (number)__linguists.

and the World said  _________________________________________________________?