A Little Brit of This and A Little Brit of That...

A very dear friend informed me the other day that (EUREKA!) she had discovered my dirty little secret and was going to expose it to my children in an effort to help them understand me better. (clearly a huge undertaking, but I digress...)  Actually, her intentions sounded a little terrifying as I have lots of dirty little secrets and no brain power to sort out which one I would have to inform Scotland Yard to bury deeper.  I decided to go with the "whatever are you talking about?" sipping my coffee and looking calm, but confused approach.   "I've got your number, missy,"  she cackled.  "You walk around like Miss Rosy Posy Happy Pants, but I know when you are faking it."  She leaned back and smiled like the Cheshire Cat.  She waited for my next move.  When I just stared at her intently (which actually means I was daydreaming about what was coming up next on Downton Abbey) she hollered out, "HA!  You are completely bamboozled! You have no idea what I'm talking about!"  "Wow, you got me," I smiled, sipping my coffee while continuing to fantasize about life at Downton Abbey  give her the blank stare down. "Spill it, if it's such a big deal then."  I gave her my best smirk.

She leaned forward and said with snark-itude, "You go all British crazy when you are in a mopey mood.  You pull out "Love Actually" and watch it over and over again.  You make Catherine watch every single episode of Doctor Who with you and quiz her on Whovian facts.  For goodness sake, your ringtone is the sound of the TARDIS!  You walk around and talk in your British accent, which your kids say is an insult to the Crown, by the way.  You may want to work on that...just sayin...Oh, and don't even get me started on your deep infatuation with the wizarding world of Harry Potter!"  

"Pfft...I do no such thing," I said as I calmly removed the fez from my head and clip on bow tie (yes, fellow Whovians, I love David Tennant, but Matt Smith has the one thing that always steals this girl's heart...humor...(insert romantic sigh here...) "You are one crazy Muggle," I told her.  She shook her head.  "Noooo, you actually told me the other night you were laughing it up with your pals, Graham Norton and Robbie Williams, and I quote "could you please ring me up later?"  She continued, "When you're really wallowing in sadness and self pity, you wrap yourself up in a blanket, have tea and biscuits and get your Jane Austen film festival on.  That's when I know Miss Happy Pants is really Miss Sappy Pants." She slapped her hand on the table and said "Ba-bam, sister!  Just own it!  Just say it loud and proud that you wish you were British!"  

I sighed.  Where are the Weeping Angels when you need them?  Clearly, I had been outed.  I don't know when my love affair with the U.K. began, only that it had started when I was a wee girl.  I mean, for goodness sake, I read Oliver Twist when I was six years old!  I'm sure Mary Poppins is partly responsible as well. I am deeply committed in this foreign affair.  To be fair, it was this "love affair" that helped pull me through a very dark time after Smitty passed.  I love the castles, the countryside, the architecture, Jane Austen, the music, just love it all.  It appears that Irish Dancer Girl has the same love affair brewing.  She is a HUGE 1D (One Direction) fan and wants to go across the pond as soon as it's humanly possible.  She says it's really because she wants to see the World Irish Dance Competition being held in London this spring, but I think she's hoping to run into Louis from 1D or Matt Smith (even though he has since "retired" from his time on the TARDIS.)  

So there, I own it.  I wear my Union Jack loud and proud!  I will Keep Calm and Carry On!  I am a Gryffindor!  One of these days, we may venture across the Atlantic to soak it all in, but until then, I have Downton Abbey every Sunday evening:)