"Good night, Australia!" #YTT is back!

I had no idea Young Talent Time was coming back until, oh, about 4.30 last Friday afternoon. WHY DIDN'T I KNOW THIS???

When I was growing up, Sydney had all the other Aussie-made shows but in Melbourne, we had three of my childhood staples:

Hey! Hey! It's Saturday. Neighbours. But most beloved of all,

Young Talent Time.

I ADORED this show. I loved Johnny Young. I felt like I had a personal connection to each of the kids. When one would leave (Karen Knowles, you BROKE MY HEART........ it's ok, I forgive you already) and another would join, I'd warm to them eventually. I had my eighth birthday there and thought I was the luckiest girl on the planet when Tara Falconer invited me to her birthday party and I got to go again (it seemed the "done" thing to go to tapings of the show for birthday parties). It was the place to be. If you were a little kid with stars in her/his eyes. And you lived in Melbourne.

It finished in 1988. I can hardly believe it was that long ago. How can it be that it was never resurrected until now? But my goodness, what a resurrection.

I am going to admit right now, I am hopeful. So very, very hopeful. That this doesn't go down the chute too quickly. That there are no scandals, that there is no hard time made or had by any of the team or contestants. That people don't unduly bag it without first stopping to realise the gaping hole in wholesome children's entertainment these days.

Because I need this to work!

This show is vital. It is very much needed. Yes, there is a saturation of talent shows but they are so formulaic and rigid and narrow-focused. They smack of greed and almost unhealthy competition and materialism. They are not and will never be YTT.

Like looking into the past... The LGBB sits, riveted by the new show

After the show, they sang "All My Loving". I cried. Like a bit of a baby. In a flash, a warm blanket came over me. I remember being all rugged up in my 'jamies, towel-dried wet hair, fed. With my family, that was so often at war and fractured. Safe for a moment. I would sit there and allow myself to get pulled in to the TV. Tuning out all else except those twinkling studio stars behind them as Johnny Young sat and swayed while he sang my weekly goodnight song. To me.

Tonight, the LGBB was overcome at the very first notes of the song. She bundled up her little dog, Scraps, and jumped off the couch to come and cuddle up to me where I was stretched out on the floor, probably pulling a pose very much like the one I used to 25 years ago. I looked down at her and remembered the happy I used to feel. That childlike, nothing-can-beat-it, innocent Happy. She led me back to it in a split second. Because of that song. She was beaming from ear to ear, hugging me and her little dog so tight I almost had to ask her to tone it down a little. But I daren't, for I never wanted the moment to end.

It did, a few bars into the song. And she turned to me and begged, "Can I PLEEEEASE watch this again? Right now!"

So from me to you, Johnny Young.... You are on a winner. You always were. Genius! I saw the emotion in your face tonight and had to swallow past a sudden lump in my throat watching how happy you were. It was so good to see you. We love the new format. Don't go changin'!

And to you, young Robert. So-called Millsy. You did well, Grasshopper. I was pleasantly impressed and surprised. The Talent is strong in you. Use it wisely, because if you don't there is a legion of mothers out there who grew up on YTT and need you to get it right. For the sake of their littl'uns! We've glimpsed the legacy. Don't you be messying it up, boy-o. Y'hear?

Image credit

"Good night, Australia!"

She was there to sell makeup but the father saw more

What, pray tell, did he see beyond a scantily-clad boofie-haired gum-chewing loud-mouth saleswoman?

I ask you, what kind of irresponsible single parent could possibly hire someone to nanny his children on these few flippant facts:

She had style
She had flair
She was there*

That's all! That was the extent of her resumé and the basis on which she was hired. Apparently the girl they described, was just exactly what the doctor prescribed. Really?? For serious? He should have at least asked her to say something, because I'm sure that squawking would've changed Mr. Sheffield's mind.

Suffer the little children, indeed.



* Disclaimer: I do NOT watch The Nanny. I was just flicking past. On my way to the Biography Channel. Honest injin. And I only know the father's name because it's well quoted by Nanny Fine and has become like a catch phrase. Oh, and I only know her name is Nanny Fine because..... just because. But I swear, I've never watched an episode. Okay, well I've never watched a FULL episode. I'm going now.




This was originally posted on my old blog - the funnier one - on Sept. 11 2006. I keep bumping into these old ones as I trawl through looking for relevant posts to dig up for you on my Infertility & Loss page. Have you checked out the new ones there yet?

Check it out: Video of fairies sleeping

There is a dim corner of the kitchen/dining area that I have wanted to brighten up for a while. We discussed a skylight. But at $300 plus installation and trying to save up to finish the backyard landscaping as it is, that was quickly ruled about a year ago. So one day recently, I spent $15 on a bunch of sticks with tiny fairy lights in them.

I arranged them in a favourite display vase and turned them on. When the LGBB came home, she almost lost it with excitement. We now have a firmly convinced little fairy spotter on our hands and I have been informed that a flock of fairies (what does one call a group of fairies?) has taken up residence in this artificial floral display indoors at our place.

I had no idea what it means when little flowers are lit up. Apparently, it's a very, very big deal. But I'll let her explain in the video (I think it's from a Tinkerbell movie?? Is it wrong/bad of me not to know?).

Untitled from Lolly Lovers on Vimeo.

Do you Xanadu for fun or torture?

Olivia - aka Kira - can't believe the state of our living room

Snacks, mixing blue and yellow to make green, painting an egg carton to make a crocodile and Xanadu on the telly. The girl is in dark and rainy stay-home day bliss.

Xanadu has been an enduring favourite of the LGBB's. She loves her a bit of swooning to Gene and Olivia dancing a 1940's-inspired two-step.

But I have to ask you.... would you watch Xanadu with pleasure? I have to admit a guilty secret:  I just love the music in this. Especially 'Magic'. Nothing shameful in a bit of ELO. Twist my arm and I'll also confess to really liking 'Suddenly', but don't tell anyone. And okay, while we're at it, I'll admit to something else:  I used to want to be Kira. Scrap that, I used to think I was Kira. Nowadays, the acting makes me want to gag and laugh simultaneously. But for kids? Heaven. The LGBB can't get enough of it. So much so that, regular readers may remember, it's all she asked Santa for in 2009. What 3 year-old do you know has fallen so in love with an '80s music video on You Tube so much that they must have the whole singing, dancing extravaganza for their very own? And wants it above any other toy they can think of?

Here she is in her no-singing, lots-of-spinning, mostly-waiting cinematic debut, age 3 1/2 (to her credit, Lolly is waiting for her cue as one of the muses who unfreezes and comes to life in the wall mural..... again and again. She just had a lot of waiting to do, given that apparently she was the only one cast in ALL the roles of the sisters). Watch the unmoving facial expression of the one bemused audience member who's seen it all before. Over. And over. And over. During rehearsals:


I'm Alive! from Lolly Lovers on Vimeo.

Tangled over Tangled

The LGBB went and saw this movie yesterday with her dad and me. We all thoroughly enjoyed it.

However.... I have a niggle. Just one. Okay, maybe two. Come on, this is me you're reading here. You know it's going to involve something deep. Sorry 'bout that *sheepish grin*


The story is about Rapunzel, of course, and it's quite entertaining. Certainly watchable. Funny. And a bit scary for the kids in places. All good. But what I am not comfortable with in these movies - Toy Story 3 did it, disappointingly, as well - is this focus on death. Moreso, the use of fear of imminent death being upon the hero/es of the story as a means of high drama or thrill factor.

Why am I uncomfortable with it? I haven't looked at it too deeply, so I don't know for sure. But I can bet it is something to do with our children being taught from such a young age to fear death. To even be vengeful over the death of another. In movies as far back (and further) as Snow White, death or the threat of it has been used as a pivotal plot point. And I could go the way of the majority and say I was raised on it. It hasn't affected me. Sniff. Except, has it?

I don't want my child desensitised to violence, aggression towards others, personal safety, death and destruction. There are few movies of this modern age for children that allow this. Tinkerbell and the Great Fairy Rescue was one that had bare little drama by way of villain at all (unless you count the cat, but it was minor compared to the likes of all three in the Toy Story trilogy) and I take my hat off to the makers for producing something I am happy for my child to have in her movie library.

Look, I'm not saying I want to cocoon children from these things. The LGBB watches many of these hero-villain-subtle violence movies - Lion King and Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs to name just two of her all-time faves - and I know it is all part of her integrating into society as it stands today.

But when it comes to death scenes like the one that is in Tangled - SPOILER ALERT! ha ha - then I think we're going a bit too far. Basically, the hero/friend of Rapunzel dies and is brought back to life by her tears falling on his cheek. On the surface, a lovely, magical happy ending that exudes all the hope and imagination of young kids.

On the other hand, they've mixed a fundamental truth with fantasy and I'm not comfortable with these movies pushing these boundaries more and more. Death is real. It is a concept that so many children have to encounter, too early in their lives. If I want my child exposed to death, then I'll do the teaching, thanks. The reality is, my daughter is already too familiar with what it means to die. Through her sister, she has realised her own mortality. In a real sense. It's really bloody scary as a concept and doesn't need to be added to by this fear of death factor in otherwise fun, entertaining childhood romps through fantasy land (all of which I'm very happy for her to have, as an escape for a while). Start mixing it with fantasy, or playing it down, and that's when the danger begins, in my opinion. Besides, this scene didn't teach anything constructive about death, it incorrectly conditioned: If someone you love dies, your tears will bring them back if you're magical enough, basically.

I sat in that cinema feeling really unnerved by what the little minds around me were absorbing. I know it's simplistic and children have a way of working these things through in their minds. But I had to wonder... How do they know - and how responsible do they care to be, as movie makers - how a child will react or what scenarios those children are going through? Do they consult with child psychologists around the world to ensure they are constructing something within that responsibility? What if a child just lost an aunty to breast cancer, for instance? Is he/she learning that their tears could have brought her back? Or that their tears were obviously not enough because she didn't come back to life? What line of questioning have their parents now been subjected to?

Some would say it is up to the parent/s to decide. But is it? I had no idea that scene/premise was in this movie. The LGBB has seen it now and fallen in love with the "girl with the long, long, long hair". She'll see it again. On the scale of movies of this type, it's a very good one, all said and done.

But why this focus on death? In Toy Story 3, the toys joined hands and faced their impending doom as they were being engulfed by the fire. NOT something I want my child to have to confront at the age of four, thank you! And so I have not allowed Lolly to see that one again. It's too much. I don't want her desensitised to that - accepting her fate when it is evident. I don't care what last-minute life-saver appears. Ludicrous storyline, if you ask me!

What are your views? Are the animated movies coming out of Hollywood starting to go too far? What other concepts are you uncomfortable with? Or are your views the complete flip-side? Do share in the comments, I'd love to learn from you.

Caricatures of parents

I left this video playing on my laptop while I went to another room the other day. The LGBB gravitated over to it - as all children seem to do when there's something moving on a screen (mine does, anyway) - and began to watch.

Steve walked in at around the five minute mark and asked her what she was watching. Okay, now, I want you to watch it please and I then will tell you what she replied... Or, y'know, you could just cheat and scroll down and find out. Either way, it's horrendously embarrassing or telling or something. I feel the urgent need to earnestly plead to you that we haven't been through a drive-through more than a handful of times since our child was born. And it certainly didn't go like this.

Or did it?









So Lolly, after watching several minutes of this and being questioned by her Dad, turns to him and says rather excitedly, "I think it's a movie about you and Mummy!"

Head in my hands. It's fairly close, I'll give her that...

Tweeeeeeet

Ooops, forgot to say... there has been action at the private blog this week. If you have a log-in, check out the new post! But only when you want to waste some more time. It's seriously not important.

In other news:

• I am two episodes in to the second season of my very first ever viewing of Twin Peaks. And OH how I am loving it. Thanks in no small part to my dear sister in-law (the sister from another mister).
• After four years and 10 months of blogging and being followed, I am about to crack the tonne. Unless someone un-follows/de-follows/sans-follow-anymores me in the next little while. And not that the number of followers equals the number of true readers I have, or is a reflection of anything really, other than "this many people clicked on a button this one time"... but it feels like a bit of a mini woo-hoo! might be in order when the time comes. Until I go visit a blog that has, like, 342 followers.

Annnnywho. Twin Peaks calls. The owls are not what they seem. Didn't you know? (You probably did, given that I am twenty years too late for the initial sweeping of the craze that I swore, as a teenager, I was not going to get caught up in..... oh my God, I feel so old)

Jazzlene!

Apropos of nothing, Jazzlene! just popped her head up at the window at me while I was working. And I thought, "That's another bit of totally useless and irrelevant trivia I've never shared in the blogosphere!" I'm full of them. Useless bits of boring, uninteresting, mundane trivia. But here we go:

During ANTM's cycle 8 (2007),  Steve and I discovered a model who seemed to be our dog's human equivalent. If not only because her name was Jaslene. It was all in the way she said it. And our dog, let's face it, was ripe for the picking (on). She needed a new name. "Miss Mena", while endearing, was simply not as equally annoying as the pooch herself.

Here is Jazz, doing her best and most favourite "LOOK AT MOY!" stunt. I guess, in ANTM terms, she pops for the camera. Although, being a dog, I can tell you that most of her popping is done at her rear end (sorry, I had to... I live with a four year-old and she'd be so ashamed of me if I missed that opportunity). I particularly like the way she manages to combine comical with utter woe. Look at those heavy-laden eyes. So sad! She pulls this face a lot, at any window she can see us through - this was the first time I captured it on camera, back in 2006 - and uses it to get the laughs. She seems to think the attention will translate into being let inside. It hasn't worked for her so far. But she'll be sure to keep you posted.

So Jazz became....... JazzLENE! The way Jaslene herself would announce her name on the show. We spent the rest of the season (yes... we watched the entire train wreck) amusing ourselves about Jazzlene every time she came on.





And then, of course, there was Homer. And the Lurleen Lumpkin episode of The Simpsons.

We couldn't forget Pepper in all this. And her nickname was already Renie.... long story. So Renie became Lurlenie, an affectionate nickname of her new proper (made-up) name. Lurleen. These days, she's most often called Peppy-Lurl. Really, we could "call" her anything. The poor old darling is so deaf *sob*

There you have it. That's it. Today's Tale In The Utter Nonsensical. Now, back to work, you lot.

I'm curious

It's been a while since I confessed something of such mammoth proportions as this, but here goes...

The LGBB has recently fallen back in love with Curious George. The movie. When she requests it, I put it on for her. As I am walking away, I can't help singing along to the opening tune. It's catchy, dont'cha think?




Okay, now, about 38 seconds in (if you watch the video), you can see that the words are, "If you ask yourself, what is this? Like curious... like curious... Curious George." Right? Right. Easy enough WHEN YOU HAVE THE WORDS THERE IN FRONT OF YOU on the screen.

I ask you to ask yourself, though, when you're walking away from the telly, absent-mindedly humming that theme tune, whether it's possible to just find yourself - like, oh, I don't know, just someone we know (maybe me, maybe not) - singing instead, "Bi-curious, like curious... Curious George."

And you will then ask yourself, "Can monkeys be bi-curious?"

I catch myself singing it every damn time. And it makes me look at poor, sweet li'l George the monkey in a rather different, not so innocent light. And that man in the yellow hat too, come to think of it. Because I swear, that is what I hear him sing [in my defense, I would argue that it's annoyingly clearer to hear that he is saying "like curious" on this YouTube vid, so it doesn't really support my claims of the mondegreen and rather just makes me look like a deranged person].

Anyone with me? Anyone? At all?? You, up the back there? NO???!!!  *sweats* I honestly don't know where my mind goes. But sometimes it keeps me, and all the people in my head, amused.

In which I issue a formal public apology

It is time I admitted something I've known for a couple of months now.

The LGBB is in love with DJ Lance Rock. Despite expressing my extreme displeasure with the show in 2008, I actually even find myself rather comforted by it. Perhaps it is because Lol isn't using it as her sole source of vocabulary learning - otherwise, she'd be asking me for something eat like this: "I want it in my belly, my belly, my be-lly. Food. In my belly. MUMMY, IN MY TUMMY!" and so forth - but something in me has softened towards the somewhat ridiculous repetition and condescending tone of DJ Lance Rock (whom I still cannot warm to).

However, Lolly is firmly enraptured. How can I deny it when she smiles at the quirky cartoon fillers and the little segues showing the kids riding various bright and colourful modes of transport? Laughs out loud at the animated robots? Has a look of utter glee on her face for the entire half hour? Says, without fail at the start of the show when DJ Lance walks across the white screen, "I like yer shooooooooooes", with a rhythm you could set a metronome by. Because she does it the same way. Every day.

So. I guess all that is left now is for me to ask all those who knew the magic of the show and read that original post of mine, ranting at the awfulness of Yo Gabba Gabba, to please line up with trousers dropped so I can pucker up and kiss butt.

"If my makeup is uneven when I get home, you'll know it didn't go well."

Those were Steve's parting words to me this morning as he headed back to work after two months' long service leave.

You think I have the title of this post mixed up with the content, don't you?

Let me explain.

If you are fairly new to this blog, you will be forgiven for not knowing that many, many things in our household are related back to either a movie line or a Simpsons quote of some sort or other.

So it will come as no surprise to regular readers to learn that as Steve was getting ready to head out the door, I just had to reference his return to work to one of my all-time favourite quotable movies - Flying High - wishing him a good, productive day and hoping he did not feel like he had to "calm down" or "get a hold of" himself.

Steve, of course, was talking about the woman who tries to apply makeup as if nothing is wrong, while the plane is crash landing and there's bedlam all around her, and not actually the woman who loses her composure and begins to freak out - and by the way, NONE of this is going to make the slightest sense and, even if you have seen the movie, it's probably only amusing to one or two of you... or, let's face it, just to me. But it's my blog and I'll write what I want to, so you'll have to just humour me.

Why he would liken himself to an elderly Jewish woman putting on her eyeshadow and lippy is an entirely different kind of post...... "All together". But it was a bloody funny visual when he said it, all the same.

I shall now let the clip speak for itself and back away before I make any bigger turkey of myself. Or my husband.

I need to drink more. Or less.

Because I found this slightly disturbing, yet very funny. And I haven't even TOUCHED any alcohol.

My new crush

I love this. Love it, love it, love it. I think I laugh more than the LGBB each morning when it comes on. Timmy's just so CUTE. Not to mention his little preschool buddies - especially that kitten ("Mee-YEW").

Mind you..... Steve and I have been known to watch more than one ep of Shaun the Sheep once she's gone to bed of an evening. Come ON, how could you not giggle at that show?

I'm sorry, I realise I should "get a life" outside of Toddler World. But this is one honest injin show that just fills me to the brim. Possibly a lot to do with the joy and smiles my child gets out of it. Annnd just a little bit self-indulgent for myself as well. It's just so safe and innocent, yet cheeky and mischievous at the same time.

Have you seen it? (channel 2, 8.15 weekdays)

Squeeeeeeee!

I think this cat is impersonating me running to the tv when Glee comes back.

Can it beee that it was all so simple then?

Oh, how I am loving ('scuse me for banging on) this Linkwithin widget now it's actually working on my blog!

If you didn't ever read/see this post I did a while back (and you want to know a bit more about cosmopolitan Melbourne's daggy past before her apparent "makeover" sometime in the past 10-20 years), I urge you to go read about our very own international-style play park. I still guffaw when I see those old commercials.

And how can I gleefully delight in the trip down memory lane without bringing your attention to this - a much needed mummy-time-out, by the looks of it. Mind you, that mama doll's coffee would be so icy cold by the time she actually managed to enjoy a sip of it, what with the running around and herding and negotiating and wiping and consoling she's probably had to do whilst in the middle of drinking the mammoth thing.

Ah, the memories.

Exhibit A: More crap than action

Well, if you ever wanted to know for sure just how long you were sitting in front of the teev in order to catch the action (and why it feels like you have to sit through all the talk and the ad's just to get to the reason why the Games are on in the first place.... oh yeah! That's right! The actual sports!), here we have a screen shot of the digital file we recorded using EyeTV.

After all the commercials and all of the mlah-mlah-mlahhhh's of Eddie & CO. have been removed, we discovered that Channel 9, on this particular evening at least, were giving us a Grand Total Viewing Time of 1 hour and 25 minutes.

Huzzah! How very generous of them.

The striped red/grey sections = Eddie, interviews and commercials (ie. not sports coverage). The blue sections (and the three in black at the right) is where they have actually shown footage of events. Pitiful, I would say.

That means, if we had sat on our butts for that entire 3.5 hours, we would have been gnashing our teeth on our cushions in exasperation at why it was taking so damn long to get to the curling. Which is a whole other post.

If you can't already tell, I'm not a fan of this network ballsing up the 'lympics. Bring back Sandy Roberts, Bruce Macavaney and channel 7's team! I'd even rather sit through the perpetually perky Johanna Griggs (Seven's version of the ever-present-everywhere Eddie McGuire) than ever endure channel 9 doing it again.

Harumph.

Now, I'm sorry, but...

... I cannot imagine in any universe a mother who would be so serene, so understanding, so diplomatic and undisciplinary with her children if she found them wearing her good shirt with mascara smeared all over it!!

I watched a bit of telly tonight - we are newly ex-Foxtellians (cable tv) and have rarely seen a tv commercial in nigh on six years, what with this day and age of intelligent recording and whatnot - and I caught a commercial for this stain remover. A very preened, very unrealistic exchange between a mother and her daughters, who were supposedly playing with her makeup and neatly smeared the most delicate smidgeon of mascara across "my good shirt!" Tra-la!

Look, I'm all for being zen and *shrug* ah, well, it's only a shirt, there is far worse in the world. But come ON! What sort of message is it sending when kids get to see this Oh So Perfect Mummy Who Didn't Get Even One Bit Mad (in fact, stayed smiling, maniacally, throughout the entire commercial) and compare her with their own mummy who'd no doubt come down on them like a tonne of bricks. Or at least give them a bit of a "This isn't very good, is it, Junior?" reprimand.

Seriously, Napisan. You are making life harder!

Tongue-only-slightly-in-cheek, signing orf.

The Winter Olympics are making me teary

The LGBB has a handle on the concept of there being other countries other than our own. She is becoming fascinated by the globe and if we see one when out and about, I am asked numerous questions and made to point out various places. Pity for her she can't actually see the place we went and got fish and chips the other night. They're not quite that detailed, I have to explain clumsily.

Still, she's not too young to understand that her cousins live in Japan. And this gives her a good basis to grasp the fact even more. There are people, like us, in other countries, separated by vast seas, all around a great. Big. World. She knows the Earth and recognises it amongst the other planets. She loves the planets too and has begun asking for more information about our solar system.

I love this shit! I really do.

Now, there is no better way, in my humble opinion, to intoduce a whole swag of countries to a young child than the Olympics. I know that at the tender age of five, I was enraptured in the romance of patriotism during the 1980 Moscow Olympics. How ironic, really, when those Games were steeped in so much controversy. My Granddad was particularly encouraging of my interest in the world map. I was given a Misha mascot bear and saw a lot of those Games on the teev.



When these Winter Olympics began in Vancouver, I hadn't the slightest ambition to get the LGBB into them at all. I have been wrapped up in work, moving in to the completed house extension (her curtains arrive sometime this week, WOOT!) and have been busy clearing up work assignments to properly pay attention to the Olympics at all. It was Steve who nudged me and said he reckoned Lol might enjoy watching some of the sports and he has set about recording some of the programs so she can get a taste for her very first ever Winter Olympics.

Well. By Sunday afternoon, I was jelly. I couldn't speak without choking up! It was ridiculous. Somewhere in me, my love for humankind (for it seemed to matter not what country the competitor was from) appeared to be bubbling to the surface and every time I tried to explain to her what was happening, I'd get this emotional lump in my throat. It was as much to do with her keen interest in what I was explaining and showing her as it was my stirring memories of my own first remembered Olympics and my Granddad's painstaking care to point out all the different countries' flags.

Lolly and I were watching the Luge. I was showing her the competitor's country's flag and the time to beat, thinking this would go nowhere. But she really started getting into it. And then - oh wonder of wonders - they had the medal presentation! Now she was REALLY interested! He got a gold medal! she squealed, as if she were Polish herself. So we sat there, glued to the telly, grinning, me with tears pricking my eyeballs, as we respectfully listened to the Polish national anthem and watched the flags get hoiked up the pole.

I thought it was just a hormonal thing, this first day. But wouldn't you know it, when I sat down with her two days ago to watch the ice skating, I teared up again! This time over the Chinese hot favourites to win, Zhao Hongbo and Shen Xue.

image from Los Angeles Times

I don't know, it must be something to do with having to commentate on what the competitors are going through, what they have to do and why they're racing/skating for their lives, how they have worked very hard and love their sport. Oh, I went on and on. And she asked more and more. She has become a zealot for all things done on ice or snow. And all of a sudden... I find myself in a very strange, yet familiar (just long-buried), place.

I'm feeling patriotic. Nay, I'm feeling something for people I will never, ever meet, no matter what country they're from.

Couple after couple performed their routine and each time, the LGBB became more critical in her commentary. She even began commenting on the commentators, who were very interesting and really gave us a nice background to each couple. We were watching the US commentary version, so much better than our Aussie experts, I have to say (for this program of skating, at least). Is he gunna fall, can she make it? Lolly was saying, more to herself than me. He's a bit wobbly.

I was in love with watching her watch them all skate. We sat holding each others' hands, like the competitors after they finished, and waited while each score from the judges came up. She's starting to recognise some of the flags - she knows our flag already and has now added Canada's and Japan's flags so far to her memory banks, it seems. This morning, she has come out of her bedroom saying, "We'll watch the medal one now? The skating medal one?" because last night, we promised her some tin. You can't get anything past them, can you?

And it brings it all back for me, how much I was enamoured by my first Olympics. I didn't think I even cared that much. But it seems, yet again, here is another example of something from within me being unlocked because of this amazing creature who chose to come and experience her life with her Dad and me. So very, very humbled and relieved that she did.

Do you have a special place in your pride-filled heart for the Olympic Games? Or the Winter (or perhaps Commonwealth) Olympics? What are your memories of your first-watched and understood Games? Do you have any? And have you shared the Games with your kids at any age? What was their reaction?

image from Washington Post

Ken Lee toulibu dibu douchoooo

From Bulgarian Idol, this contestant has gone with a Mariah Carey classic. In English. Can she pull it off?

I love her ..... passion.

Somebody help me PLEASE!!

I have this stuck in my head. WHY?? I haven't watched it, haven't thought about it, in yonks.

But no. Today, I am being haunted by the Lollipop freakin Guild. For no good reason! Over and over and over, I'm doing that high-pitched "LEEEEEEEEEAGUE" bit. And when I cave, every few rounds I join in with half my mouth shut and sing out the corner of one side of my mouth... "WEEEEEE wish-oo-we'come you TO mu'shkin layyyyynd."

I obviously have a problem here. Intervention requests are being sought by Steve. You can contact him on 1-800-GET-ME-OUT-OF-HERE-SHE'S-NUTS.


v