I recently discovered that Other Half had never seen the Princess Diaries, featuring Anne Hathaway and the ever-delightful Julie Andrews, who I firmly believe should share all grandmother roles between herself and Betty White. We have a friend who has a burning obsession for the Hath, which is a source of much amusement for us. I mean, sure, she's good looking, but she's too pretty, know what I mean? I read recently that The Hath is going to be Catwoman in the next Batman film. It's an odd choice, since she has all the sexual appeal and villainous intent of a baby deer, but I'm sure she'll do fine.
We put the dvd on and settled down to watch it. We ran a commentary on it for the first few minutes as we usually do, mocking the characters and dialogue in rapid quick-fire succession. Silence fell but after a while I could see Other Half was growing increasingly agitated. A moment later she turned to me.
Other Half: Wait, so... Julie Andrews lives in that house... which is, by the way, not in keeping with the surrounding architecture and looks massively out of place, and it's supposed to be an official consulate for Fairy Land?
Me: Genovia. And ...yes, she's staying there.
Other Half: If it's a consulate, shouldn't they have an information desk? And a place where people can go to sort out their passports? And some staff other than these hoity-toity royal employees?
Me: I think you're supposed to suspend belief in plausible situations for this kind of film.
Other Half: It's just not right.
Me: (patting her absently) I know, dear.
I was distracted because I kept wondering when Colin Firth was going to turn up and announce that he was her father and conveniently not dead after all (I realised eventually that I was confusing the Princess Diaries with Wild Child, a film which I saw a couple of years ago and immediately tried to bleach from my mind - I have a thing for rags-to-riches comedies). Also, our 21 pound Maine Coon cat was curled up in my lap and I was beginning to lose feeling in my legs.
The conversation turned, during a dull period in the film, to a favourite topic (for me anyway) of fit celebrities we would choose to sleep with. The rules of this game, referred to as Top 5, are simple - your partner permits you to cheat with these five people and only these five people. I advise against saying things like "your mum" because not only will that not fly well with your partner, the chances of you managing to actually score with such a person is unlikely, even if they knit you jumpers and bring you cake. Cake does not equal sex. It should, but it does not. In addition, these five people must be celebrities, no matter how minor. You can't choose that hot girl from the office that wears those lovely pencil skirts, or the watercooler guy with the awesome guns.
Me: Okay so who's in your top 5 this week?
Other Half: Rachel McAdam, Emily Blunt...
I make faces of disgust and pretend to retch.
Other Half: Fine, who are your Top 5 then?
Me: Not in any particular order, June Cole-
Other Half: Ah yes, June Cole. She's in mine as well.
June Cole is the nickname we've given to the June page of Cheryl Cole's 2011 calendar, which hangs in our hallway. I'm not exactly a fan of her accent but she does look Italian or some kind of Spanish and ridiculously hot and that works for me. Other Half and I consider the mental image of June Cole for a few moments in blissful silence.
Me: And Santana from Glee, and Quinn from Glee, and David Tennant and Laura Dern.
Other Half: Not her again!
For those of you who don't know, Laura Dern was the blonde lady in Jurassic Park (she was also in an episode of Ellen, which my gay readers will probably know already). I really like dinosaurs, and after that film, I really liked Laura Dern. There's something about the way she tended to the sick Triceratops that drew me in. Sensitive, yet tough. Smart and beautiful. Able to pull off a khaki shorts, coral shirt and boots combination without a hitch. That's my kind of lady. Other Half does not care for Laura Dern, possibly for this reason.
Me: I like her. She stays.
Other Half: These people aren't even in the country. Don't you want to choose someone a bit closer to home?
Me: Well, David Tennant covers my Scottish base. If it makes you feel better I'll substitute Emma Watson for June Cole.
Other Half: Who's Emma....Oh my god! Hermione Granger?! She's a child!
Me: Actually, I think she just turned 21.
Other Half: (staring at me, saucer-eyed) But, but...those Harry Potter films-
Me: Were a long time ago. She's perfectly legal. I would be delighted to buy her a legal drink. Because she's legal.
Other Half: (spluttering) I...I...
Me: Emma Watson it is then. I hear she's in the UK like, all the time. Excellent.
Other Half: (darkly) You're sick. Pass the cat.