I have had an epiphany; well, a realisation; well, a thought – my film taste is the total opposite to my literary. On a small and effortless quest during one massive bout of procrastination, I began listing my favourite films – anything not Tarantino or Ghibli was either a musical or teen’s dream; Meet me in St Louis, Thoroughly Modern Millie, My Fair Lady, The Holiday, 27 Dresses, 10 Things I Hate About you, Pitch Perfect, Hairspray, Get Over It, Pretty In Pink, Sixteen Candles, Breakfast Club. A collection of films design to stop me thinking.
Well hello to you dear browser. Now I have your attention it would be rude if I didn’t tell you a little about my literary feast. So, here is the thing: is it just me or does anyone else find that adulthood offers no refuge from the unexpected horrors, peculiar lack of physical coordination and sometimes unexplained nudity, that accompanied childhood and adolescence?
Does everybody struggle with the hazards that accompany, say, sitting elegantly on a bar stool; using chopsticks; pretending to understand the bank crisis; pedicures – surely it’s plain wrong for a stranger to fondle your feet? Or is it just me?1
Oh Miranda, wonderful as you are, you werent made for this long a read.
Miranda – the television show – is one of the only TV shows I will sit down to watch live; it is witty (typed out willy first, naughty; clearly channelling her Royal Hartness) thirty minute segments with just the amount of embarrassment I can bare. Thirty minutes into her book and I wanted it to end; it’s not that Is It Me? is bad, it just was not my cup of tea; I did want to love it.
Firstly, before I moan, I think I should explain what I loved; specifically, stationery. Miranda completely understands the dynamics of office life, the sanctuary of the stationery cupboard; she appears to have had quite a pleasantly extroverted office experience, at least managing to avoid any nasty colleagues. Celebrities often seem detached from real life; it was lovely to get a glimpse of Hart’s own office endurance, because honestly it gives me hope that like Miranda, I too can blossom in my late 20s having now I discovered what I love.
Those who know me well – I may not even have told you – will be aware of my stationery obsession. I love the stuff and have more than I need or will ever use. The stationery cupboard is a palace of peace – unless someone messes it up in which I would go into a rage and remind people I am not their mother, and I will not keep clearing up after them….. As I tidy away the mess – sorry about that colleagues!
Stationery aside, Hart’s final chapter ‘Dreams’ was charming, and a wonderful push to say, “hey, you can do it to!” Miranda is a fantastic example of how you can make your dreams come true, no matter age or where you are in life; I adore that about her, she has done the human stuff too, she did not just fall into comedy – she is one of us.
Now, to the things that made me instant rage:
1. Chatting to Young Miranda: I understood the concept, showing young Miranda the path to gloriously childish adulthood, but the pattern tired quickly. I would have prefered a brief visit at the beginning and then to have avoided young Miranda the rest of the journey.
2. Structure: Generally, I prefer a linear time travel; while Miranda’s topic headings where an interesting concept, and a clever way to avoid having to reveal an uncomfortable amount personal information, she lost me in between Stationery and Dreams. I deal with embarrassment well, especially the embarrassment of others, so I did skip over some of the stories that were slightly too much for me – I am not one for cringing.
Ultimately, for my own personal enjoyment, I feel Miranda is more suited to smaller chunks; I can only travel so far into silly before feeling as if I am trapped in Felix the Cat (it always distressed me that at the end of the episode he never returned home) – I am just not one for this level of peppy chumery