I was abruptly taken back to my childhood while reading Not Afraid To Use It this morning, because a question which blighted her childhood also echoed through mine. It was a metaphorical question, and you can bet your life that if we’d answered that one, we’d have been in very deep shit indeed.

Looking back, it seems to me that our parents came out with certain stock phrases without too much thought about what effect they might have. Maybe it was simply that their parents said them, or maybe they used them because they had the desired effect of making the kid shut up. Whatever the reason, many children of my generation heard the same things, over and over again.

So let’s examine a few of those phrases, and see if they’re as bad as I remember them. We’ll start with the one mentioned by Not Afraid To Use It in her blog post. ‘Just who do you think you are?‘

What does this say to a child? It says ‘you are not good enough for that’. It says ‘you are far too confident in my love for you if you think you can say that to me and get away with it’. Uh … don’t we want our children to grow up feeling worthy and confident and trust that we love them no matter what? I thought we did …

I used to get ‘who do you think you are?‘ when I questioned my Mum’s dictates on what I should wear or how I should behave. Now, I was basing my rebellion on the fact that my brothers were treated differently, but I had failed to take into account the facts that a) they were older than me, and b) I was a girl. However, I still think it would have been better had she pointed these things out to me and explained why she was making me conform to different standards. For instance, ‘I know, love, it’s tough isn’t it, but life just ain’t fair’ might have been easier to take. As it was, I was so wounded that I did indeed shut up, and I was still following Mum’s rules three decades later, when they were well and truly redundant.*

Another one I heard with distressing regularity was ‘Those who ask don’t get‘ which was often followed by ‘.. and those who don’t ask, don’t want‘. What kind of a twisted, sadistic thing is this? So you’re fucked whatever you do? Oh, way to teach a child the concept of learned helplessness and make sure they don’t try anything!

‘Stop crying, or I’ll give you something to cry about‘. Classic! If a child’s upset enough to cry real tears, what are the chances that they can recover their equilibrium by sheer force of will-power? Yep, pretty well non-existent. So in saying this, you’re ensuring that the child becomes instantly more upset and you can get even more righteously angry at them. Sheesh. Great parenting lesson.

Well. at least my parents never - ever - said anything like ‘Don’t you fucking swear at me, you little bitch‘, a phrase I actually heard aimed at a toddler in a local shopping centre at ten o’clock one night by a very young mother.

Most kids had more responsible parents than that, of course, and most took the admonishments in their stride, but for those who took things to heart and who tended to think too deeply, they caused lasting damage, and clearly I was a sensitive soul because I grew up insecure, seriously lacking in confidence, and with an absolutely terrible self-image.

As you know, I’m not a fan of political correctness, but this isn’t a matter of PC gone mad. It’s psychologically damaging when conundra like this are aimed at children too young to understand, especially when they’re said in anger. Now, my parents loved me, that’s without question, and I’m pretty sure they were doing their level best to bring me up properly. They must have said these things without the faintest notion of how much they hurt. So if those words could screw us up so badly without our parents ever being aware of it, doesn’t that beg a very obvious question?

Yeah, that’s right. This one -

What damage have we done to our own kids without realising it?

* Yes, in my late forties. Then I discovered Johnny Depp and his ‘fuck it’ attitude to life.

I just ate lunch. Pretty ordinary thing to do, huh? Except that it went like this:

Me, talking to me: I’m hungry - what can I have?

Me: How about potato cakes?

Me: Good idea!

Me: Oh no … they’ve got green spots on, despite being dated tomorrow!!

Me (absent-mindedly nibbling on a handful of the Food Doctor’s original seed mix): Can’t eat those, then.

Me: Nope, have to think of something else.

Me: (opening drawer to reveal secret cache of Cadbury’s chocolate buttons and stuffing some into mouth): How about cheese on toast?

Me: I’m not supposed to be eating bread, remember?

Me: (feeding a few short lengths of liquorice - found in drawer alongside chocolate buttons - into mouth): So what?

Me: Oh well, this will have to do.

*Stuffs food under grill*

A short while later …

Me: Do these sardines taste funny to you?

See, I’ve always had this problem. When I’m depressed, I eat. If the right food isn’t immediately available, I eat the wrong food and I eat plenty of it.

So you want to know the end of that sentence up there in the title? Alrighty then. Take a deep breath, it’s a long one:

‘You know you’re depressed when you refuse the chance to watch a Johnny Depp movie on the grounds that you can’t eat and watch him at the same time, and you have a date with a large bowl of triple chocolate ice cream mixed with coffee ice cream, with chocolate buttons sprinkled on top, three Cornish wafers on the side, and a hot chocolate chaser.’

Imagine my surprise the other day when I visited Baino’s Banter and found I’d been .. um, Not Tagged.

I mean, there’s this meme, right? The idea is that you follow the instructions and then tag four people - you know the kind of thing. But being an Aussie and doing everything upside down, Baino decided that she wasn’t going to put us on the spot by tagging us … and then she named four people anyway, one of which was me! Being the prim and proper, ultra-polite English lady that I am, I immediately felt I had to take on the responsibility and accept the meme. Well, it’s the way we are, you know. We queue, and everything.

So what is this meme? Well, actually it’s rather fun. What you have to do is this:

If you had to select celebrities/actors to play the parts in the story of your life today (including yourself!), who would it be and why - this can be based on looks or personality.

The Rules -

1. List the people who would play you, and the key people in your life.
2. Give credit to the person who tagged you.
3. Link your answers to the original blog, that’s here at iRamble.
4. Tag four new people to participate.

So, I have to think of an actor to play me, and also actors to play the key people in my life. This means Other Half, of course, my two sons, my mother, and perhaps even the two dogs.

I’m having a bit of a shitty week right now. Mostly it’s hormonal, I’m guessing, but there have been various upsets and disagreements and disappointments and quite honestly, I doubt I’m a lot of fun to be with. Now, who’d want to be me this week? Can I choose a male character to be me? Of course I can!

Right then. I’m going to be Crazy Mort from Secret Window. I feel schizophrenic and homicidal, and I’m just about as well-groomed as Mort, even if I’m not half as sexy (I’m working on that). But I do feel that sitting around all day in my dressing gown complaining and eating junk and being alternately childish and extremely aggressive would work quite well for me right now.

As to Other Half, well, he’d have to be Johnny Depp himself, clearly. He doesn’t actually bear much resemblance to him physically, I admit, but on the inside he’s just as lovely. Independent of mind, stubborn of nature, moral, ethical and mindful of people’s feelings … most of the time, that is, unless someone has really pissed him off, in which case it’s a big middle digit to the world. He’s talented and intelligent, too, though you’d have to torture him to get him to admit it, because he’s one of the most modest men I know. So, there you go. Obvious choice, really.

Neither of my sons fit very neatly into any Johnny Depp character that I can think of, so I’m going to have to stretch the truth a little. Yes, of course they have to be Johnny Depp characters. What were you thinking? Haven’t you seen the title of this blog?

So. No. 1 son will be Agent Sands, who you will see being very violent and bloody in this clip from Once Upon A Time in Mexico. He’s witty and sardonic and would love to be able to get hold of people who irritate him and blast them out of existence. Purely in his fantasies, naturally - I don’t want you running away with the idea that I gave birth to a homicidal maniac - but he does tend to wish out loud that he had Las Cannons fitted to his car.

No. 2 son is a very, very funny guy, who honestly doesn’t believe just how funny he is, and totally refuses even to consider a career as a stand-up comedian, despite me assuring him he’d make a million and could look after us both in our old age. So he’ll have to be sweet Sam, from Benny and Joon, who was an amazingly talented comedian who thought he was nothing special. Unlike Sam, however, No. 2 son has not been made to sleep under the sink. Ever.

My mother is probably most like Mrs Vernon-Williams in Cry Baby - she’s the well-preserved older lady in navy blue with pearls and a big hat. To all appearances she’s very prim and proper and mindful of her position in the family, and she’s not above manipulating people to get them do what she thinks would be best for them. However, there’s much more to her than meets the eye and in a tight corner, she’ll always come through for you.

The Pirate? No prizes for guessing this one - the Pirate is Captain Jack Sparrow, and always has been. He is a happy-go-lucky sort of chap, always on the make, and always wondering why the rum food is gone. He is a dyed-in-the-wool physical coward who screams blue murder if you look at him funny, yet if you corner him, he’ll accept his fate. Well, he’ll appear to. Actually, he’s keeping a very sharp eye out for the slightest opportunity to escape, and if you drop your guard, he’s gone. And he has a very funny was of running that makes him look slightly drunk.

The Princess? Let me see … she’s very beautiful and she knows it, and she’s opinionated. She loves to be the centre of attention and to be petted and praised, and she’ll yap and yap and stamp her little foot until that happens for her. Who does that remind you of? Why, yes, now that you come to mention it! Elizabeth Swann from Pirates of the Caribbean!

So, who can I Not Tag? I think I’d like to see Babs of Beetle Blog, Scratch of An Itchy Blog, Joe of Practically Wisdom, and Angi of We Sleep for Dreaming have a go at this.  And I’m adding River Poet, who has her hand up in the corner over there yelling ‘Me! Me! Pick me!’

Don’t let me put you on the spot, guys, but if you feel like joining in, that’d be great!  Oh, and don’t forget to check out the carefully chosen video links.  As I mentioned, the ‘Mexico’ one is gory, but there’s some fun stuff in the rest.

*Psst! Baino - did I do the Not Tagging thing OK?*

In case you missed it, I love to read. I read a great variety of styles and genres, both fiction and non-fiction, and for the most part, reading is pure joy to me, but there is one thing which I hate.

Every now and then I stumble across a book of such delightfulness that I immediately go and look up the author to find out what else they’ve written. And, well, every now and then, I find that there IS nothing else. I have three or four books which I consider such gems that it seriously grieved me to find that they are ‘one book wonders’.

The first is Audrey Niffenegger’s ‘The Time Traveler’s Wife’. What an amazing book this is! Isn’t it? I mean, wow! How do you describe it? It’s unique, it’s breathtaking, the prose is beautiful, and - without wishing to give anything away to those who haven’t read it yet, the end is just right.

The second is ‘Blood’ by Patricia Traxler. This book is dark. It’s edgy and twisted and weird and I adore it. It’s one of those books that made me sigh over it when it was done and agonise for the characters, and wonder why so-and-so did this, and what made what’s-her-name do that, and shake my head over the fact that they did and look where it got them.

Both of these books are one book wonders. And you know why? Because neither of these two authors normally write this way! Each of these two books represents their author’s sole venture into the world of the novel - and I want to write to them and beg them on my knees to get right back to the keyboard and damn well do it again, because they are that good. But Audrey Niffeneger writes graphic novels for preference, and Patricia Traxler is a poet.

Next on my list would be ‘Samantha Smythe’s Modern Family Journal’ by Lucy Cavendish. I so thoroughly enjoyed this book that I’m still melting over baby Jamie’s ‘Erg blerp ga!’ - the single non-verbal sentence at this small person’s disposal, but one that can be uttered with various inflections to suit all occasions - and I know that sounds sickeningly cutesie but it just isn’t.

This is a story about family and stress and the little things that alternately annoy and enchant in ordinary daily family life, and how good intentions can have unexpected results. Did I say I loved this book? Well, I did. And so I went to look for more, and, yep, you guessed it, there aren’t any more! Lucy Cavendish seems to have specialised in books about white magic and paganism, and this was her debut novel. The good news is that there is a sequel in the pipeline. The bad news is that it looks as if I’ll have to wait until next year to read it.

Lastly, I’m going to include ‘Good Omens’ in this list, because although Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman have each written many more books, they have never again collaborated, and for me, the mix of those two minds is absolutely perfect. We have the wit, intelligence and effortless comedy of Pratchett teamed with the twisted imagination and more satirical style of Gaiman, and it just works. I love Pratchett, all on his own, whether in the Discworld novels or the kids books, or the spin-offs and in-betweens, but Gaiman gives him bite.

As far as I know there is no plan for Pratchett and Gaiman to write together ever again, which is a great source of sadness to me. However there have been vague rumours about Terry Gilliam making a movie of Good Omens, and they’ve been circulating since 1999. First they tell us it’s on, then it’s maybe not, then it’s definitely off, then they say maybe it isn’t entirely off, they’re still working on it. That’s the story of Gilliam’s life, it seems, but I for one hope that he does one day get the funding because the last I heard, he was planning to ask Johnny Depp to take one of the leading roles.

So, this being the archetypal story of the struggle between good and evil, would Johnny be the angel or the demon? You know what? I don’t care, he’d be perfect for either of them.

And if you think that’s contradictory, you don’t know Depp.