I haven’t been this excited since my Mum bought me a Cindy doll in 1988.

Maurice Sendak’s Where The Wild Things Are is my favourite book of all time.  My Granddad bought me it when I was five years old, and a few months later I had listened to the story so many times that I could retell it word for word.  I made boats out of cardboard boxes and bed sheets, and pretended to sail away to the land in the story.

The book tells a tale of a little boy called Max, who’s mother calls him a Wild Thing.  His bedroom turns into a jungle, and he sails away across the sea to the Land of the Wild Things.  The Wild Things make him their king, but he misses home and sails back to his mother, where his supper is waiting for him.

Every class of children I’ve had have been told this story.  We’ve talked about our own families and about whether we’d like to go and visit the Land of the Wild Things.  Then we’ve made boats out of cardboard boxes and bed sheets, and ‘rowed’ across the ’sea’ to the other edge of the classroom, where vines hang and children in masks pretend to be Wild.

Needless to say, most of the children I’ve taught have grown to love this book as much as I have.  And I can’t express how excited I am about the movie.  Not because I think it will be better than the book, but because it will open the minds of children (and grown-ups) who don’t yet know the story.

The movie is out in October this year.  Do me a favour, and try watch it through the eyes of a child.  You never know, you might learn something about yourself.

Click here to view the movie trailer.

It’s been said that I’m a little slow sometimes.  I don’t contest that, infact I wholeheartedly agree that things dawn on me long after everyone else has worked it out.

But my beloved Eileen Dover has fallen off the face of the internet!  I’m frankly distraught by this.

More so, because in the place of Eileen, is the photo of a drag-queen whose makeup has clearly been applied by a shovel.

Cruella on Crack.

Sad times..

Come (on) back Eileen!  I miss your sparsely made-up face and filthy mind.

Have The T-Shirt’s recent post has inspired me!  With the dismal cloud of Christmas looming over us, I’m going to follow in her footsteps, and make a list for Santa!

This isn’t a list of presents I’m going to buy other people, nor is it a list of presents I’d like.  It’s a list of (mostly unrealistic!! things I would love to have for Christmas (if I had a magic lamp, and a totally hot genie)..

- I’d like a dressing room.  Yes, an actual room.  A whole, enormous room dedicated mostly to shoes.

- I’d like a disgustingly enviable collection of shoes, of which at least 60% should be made by Jimmy Choo or Gina.

- Obviously, I’d need a bigger house in which to accommodate my enormous shoe collection.

- I’d like two Shar Pei puppies, who would absolutely, definitely, not eat/bite/annoy my little bundle of fluff (that would be my erm, cat.)

- It would be wonderful to not be allergic to my little bundle of fluff, whom I love dearly, but brings me out in a bugger of a rash.

- I want an extra button in my car, which, when pressed – emits a deafening voice that says “Stop driving up my ass, you incompetent dickhead.”

- Oh, and another button which (somehow) bitch-slaps any incompetent dickheads (particularly those driving 4×4s, who seem to think they can railroad my car off the frigging road..)

- Screw it, I’d like a super fast, super speedy, kick-ass, midlife-crisis car.  I don’t know what kind…  A sexy, dirty-hot one! :)

- I’d like to actually want to give up smoking, let alone have the willpower to do it.

- I’d like to just be qualified to teach, now, without having to actually train to do it (obviously all the knowledge would be stored somewhere in my brain, without me having to learn it).

- I don’t ever want to see a child suffer.  I want all the children I teach to come to school in warm, clean clothes, after a good nights sleep and a proper breakfast. I want to see parents who actually give a shit.

- I want my own childcare business, with wonderful staff, and plenty of money behind it.

- And a great big stack of cash.

- I’d like the finances, and the guts, to travel the world.

- I’d like to put my old boss out of business, and be able to laugh a great big “fuck you, lady.” right in her face. :X (Yes, I realise that makes me a massive bitch, but she totally deserves it.)

- I’d like my best friend to just not make a massive mistake, and to either get married and have it work out, or not get married and be ok with that.  Either way would be quite satisfactory, thank you!  Oh, and if he has to get married, could I please not look like a total dickhead in my bridesmaid dress? Pleeeease?

- I’d like the prospective-mother-in-law to not be such a racist assbag.  Or, if that’s slightly impossible, to just come with a mute button, so I can stop her mouth making so much pointless noise all the time.

- I’d like to have a steamy, kinky threesome with Alan Rickman and Mel Gibson (I’m aware he’s an ass, but my God, I would totally violate that man).

- I want to no longer be reliant on medication, for anything at all – to be healthy, without help.

- I want to live in France, with a vineyard at the end of my garden, and a filthy-hot gardener with a tight little bum and some polished abs, to erm.. garden?

- I want a baby.  And for the other-half to actually want a baby. Now. Or at least in the next year or so..

- I would love multiple orgasms. On a daily, is not half-daily basis.

- I’d like someone to say ‘Thank you’ for working so hard to make a difference to childrens lives.

- I want gambling to just disappear completely.  It ruins too many lives.

- I want an apology from a whole host of people, and forgiveness from a whole host more.

- I want fifteen minutes with my Granddad, to tell him how much I love him, and to ask him if he thinks I’m doing the right thing.

- I want a Happy Christmas, this year, just once.  No tears, no arguments, no stress, no fuss.

The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other.
- Burton Hillis.

- Oh, and I want a totally hot, six foot tall Santa to appear on my doorsteps on Christmas Eve, so I can sit on his lap and tell him what I really want for Christmas. ;-)
(That’s such a sordid fantasy, I know, haha).

What’s on your list?

Visit Have The T-Shirt – you’ll love her as much as I do (I promise!).

…Sarah Palin, and her seventeen year old daughter who’s got a proverbial bun in the oven.

Let me just make it clear – I am not interested in politics, I couldn’t really give a toss who wins the election, nor could I care less about one scandal or another.

But I do think that so what if Bristol (poor girl, what an awful name..) got pregnant before she got married?

So freaking what?

It’s 2008. People get pregnant. Sometimes, people even do it before they’re married! Infact, some people never get married at all! Oh my gosh!

Get over it, America. You discovered that your politicians lie, cheat, and have skeletons in their closet. Shouldn’t you be giving some serious thought to which muppet you’d like to rule America, rather than concerning yourself with the way in which the Palin family conducts family planning (or lack thereof)?

I agree with Obama – leave people’s families out of it. It’s not the kids fault that their parents are running for president – and if parenting skills made for a wonderful president (or not), there’d be a hell of a lot of mothers better qualified than any politician I’ve seen run for power in any country.