God Save the Scone, and poor Miranda Knocking, too
October 26th, 2005
No wormholes yet, my friends, and I am a saner woman for it. The sci-fi convention begins tomorrow, so I still have one day left of normal tourism in England. I plan to savor every minute of my remaining 24 hours in Kent, so I will have fine memories to ruminate upon whilst I am being forced at laser-gunpoint to sit through seminars where the star (a reportedly lovely and friendly woman whom we shall refer to as Miranda Knocking) responds to inquiries like What do you like to eat in your trailer between takes? and Why is orange your favorite color because um I used to have a dog named Orangeade and I think it’s a totally awesome color too?
The Mater has enthusiastically forked over the extra cash to secure us admittance to the most exclusive event at the convention: the Meet Miranda Cocktail Party. I will struggle into my Lycra Tube of Death and trusty B.G. yet again, so that we can sit at one of several tables of nine, tables which will all have a tenth seat, a platinum-plated, diamond-encrusted throne for Miranda. Miranda (who will no doubt be drinking more heavily than I) will circulate the five tables of rabid fans and perch her sculpted sci-fi buns upon each of the thrones. The event planners guarantee that each table will enjoy ten minutes of Miranda’s gracious and undivided attention. I guarantee that nine of Miranda’s ten minutes at our table will be monopolized by my beloved mother, who will be pulling finger paintings that I did at the age of three out of her bra and shoving stacks of poorly written one-act plays and breed ‘em and weep entries at this poor actress, who by this point will be ready to create her own wormhole by punching her head through the nearest window.
I have told my mother that her cocktail-party offensive is not the recommended method for networking in entertainment circles, but she does not believe me. She is convinced that if she can only direct Miranda’s eyeballs in the direction of mine, Fate will take over. In no time at all, I will be writing episodes of the show and arranging playdates at Miranda’s home and renting Tuscan villas with Miranda as I set my mother up in a grand oceanfront property on the Cape, with a nice live-in Polish handyman named Stashiu.
As the Brits say, Ah, bless her.
Some people live their whole lives yearning for their parents’ validation. I will live my whole life trying to dig myself out from the avalanche of my parents’ validation, God love ‘em. I keep trying to be an unassuming failure, but they are having none of it, none of it, I tell you.
The pressure is terrible, but it’s awfully endearing, I’ll give you that.
Brace yourself, Miranda Knocking. As my Kent friends commented, you may want to have your manager read the fine print next time around. I can assure you, there’s no way you’re getting paid enough for this weekend.
But enough about the convention. Let’s enjoy this time together, breeders, weepers and readers. Let’s celebrate the Queen and the people who say Mind the gap and name their homes things like Bitchet Estate and Thrums and Wormly Cottage. Today in this great land, I had clotted cream with a scone. Most people here have a scone with clotted cream, but I definitely did it in the reverse, slathering on a human-head-sized clump of the stuff, losing my scone entirely in the fluffy white mess. I don’t remember the last time I was so happy with an edible item.
Except for maybe yesterday.
Oh, and the day before. And that other time.
God Save Our Scone. I am having so much fun. Wish you were here. David, bless you, bless you, you dear boy. If any of you happen to run any artist retreats in glamorous woodsy locations and would like to invite David for a week of childfree, wifefree oil-painting bliss, do please let him know. He’ll be reading this, wondering what the hell he was thinking when he agreed to free me from the shackles of motherhood for seven long days.
Only 23 more hours till Miranda Knocking begins dreaming of a new career, a career that will keep her far, far away from my mother!
Fly safe, Mama. You crack me up.
Entry Filed under: Uncategorized, Time-out. (General insanity)
26 Comments
1. Jen | October 26th, 2005 at 2:22 pm
Y’all absolutely have to read the Diana Wynne Jones (cough, YA sci fi, cough) novel Deep Secret, about a sci fi conference in Great Britain, and various hijinks. V. funny
.
2. Dawn | October 26th, 2005 at 3:09 pm
Once a Mama, Jenn, always a Mama. One day you’ll be selling your daughters attributes to other dinner party guests…
I would however draw the line with the Mater when she asks to touch the buns of Miranda - in a purely fanlike fashion, of course.
3. geogirl | October 26th, 2005 at 3:17 pm
ahem…”Miranda Knocking”? Cute Jenn….real cute.
As for keeping far,far away from your mother…good luck. I pity anyone who ends up at your table. They simply do not stand a chance. (love ya CG!)
4. The Homosexuals | October 26th, 2005 at 5:22 pm
Dear Jenn,
Will you, your husband, your children and your dogs marry me and my domestic partner? It’s Massachusets, man. They’re the last state in the U.S. with an open mind!
I’m on one knee here.
Laughing and loving it.
5. Spot the Wonder Dog | October 26th, 2005 at 5:41 pm
Kent does kick *ss.
They say once you’ve done Kent, you’ll keep on coming back for more.
…and I know My Kent friends are always a blast to hang out with.
But on to the Matter in hand.
You don’t have to go all the way to England to find named houses. My house, for example, is coincidentally named “Jenn”. “Jenn” is tall, and white, and has a big backyard.
…and in a rare display of restraint, I’m just going to stop myself right now.
6. Eulallia | October 26th, 2005 at 6:05 pm
If that guy who played Riker on Star Trek is there, tell him he always annoyed me.
7. kris | October 26th, 2005 at 8:24 pm
Riker annoyed me too, especially the chubby Riker. And, for that matter, so did Wesley. Oh, I just want to give him such a pinch!
8. JustLinda | October 26th, 2005 at 10:17 pm
The thing I like best about London is how they assume our stupidity. When I’m standing at the street looking to cross, they actually write “LOOK RIGHT” on the pavement so I’ll not be caught off guard by a fast (and surprisingly FRIENDLY) cab driver coming from the unexpected direction.
My absolute favorite word used over there is “Nutter”. As in “Miranda Knocking referred to the woman accompanied by her daughter as some crazy nutter who can’t stop bragging on her daughter.”
9. R J Keefe | October 27th, 2005 at 6:58 am
Perhaps all you have to tell her is that you’ve called her “Miranda Knocking” at your widely-influential Web log. She’ll see no other way….
Don’t overlook fish and chips! It’s fried and delicious!
10. geogirl | October 27th, 2005 at 7:33 am
Is it just me or does anyone else here think “Miranda Knocking” would make a cool porn star name?
I’m just sayin…
11. Simon | October 27th, 2005 at 8:57 am
Well, if you changed “ing” to “ers”, sure. But then that would just be beating you over the head with the obvious. Not an entirely unpleasant state of affairs, I suppose.
12. diaperdame | October 27th, 2005 at 1:42 pm
OK, is it just me, or am I the only one who’s actually JEALOUS? I’d KILL to go to a Star Trek convention (yeah, I know, colour me geek) , most especially if it were in London! Oh, how I’d love to see a crazy bunch of Brits dressed up as Vulcans and Klingons. I wonder what “Kerplach!” sounds like with a Cockney accent? The mind wobbles!
And for anyone who always hated Wesley Crusher (like I did, back in the day), I suggest you check out Wil Wheaton’s blog: http://wilwheaton.typepad.com/
The character might have been oh so annoying, but the guy who played him is actually very cool.
13. geogirl | October 27th, 2005 at 2:12 pm
I hate to ruin your guys fun but…
As the only “G*ter” left on this forum I feel compelled to tell you
it is not a Star Trek convention. It’s not even a SciFi convention
It’s a special event for one particular SciFi show…actually, it’s for one particular actress on one particular show.
So there will be no wookies, no trekies, no pointed ears or cinnamon bun hairdos. No buttons that say “Beam me up Scotty” or bumperstickers that proclaim “My kid is an honor student at Starfleet Academy”.
I mean goodness, you didn’t think Jenn would go to a full blown SciFi convention for her very first time did you? They would eat her alive!!!
14. R J Keefe | October 28th, 2005 at 6:58 am
All I care about is that Jenn can post from the UK. Can’t wait to hear about the cocktail party.
15. Simon | October 28th, 2005 at 8:53 am
The image of Miranda Knocking as a porn star attending a cocktail party is too much for me. I have to go wash my brain out with soap.
16. Nothing But Bonfires | October 28th, 2005 at 6:15 pm
I have an American friend whose boyfriend went to England for the first time and apparently IGNORED the “look right” warning painted on the road and DID get hit by a cab! This was maybe a decade ago, and every year, they hold a “Tim Got Hit By A Cab In England” party to commemorate the occasion.
Uh, yeah, having read over that I kind of feel that I should make it clear that he was fine. He didn’t die or anything. Because then they really would be a bunch of sickos, holding a party like that.
But still….I guess that means we’re justified in painting the “look right” signs on the street. Not that they work or anything.
17. Lisa S. | October 31st, 2005 at 2:18 pm
Okay I totally think Miranda Knocking sounds like a true porn name. …that and it’s hilarious!
18. geogirl | October 31st, 2005 at 3:38 pm
(heh,heh) See! I told you.
And Miranda sounds very British as well. I’m sensing some sort of English Porn theme….
I bet her co-star would be called “Big Ben”
;-)
19. karina | October 31st, 2005 at 4:13 pm
Jenn, I’m shocked to find all of these references to porn–people might start to think you have a background in writing for the porn industry!
20. Blackpool Tone | October 31st, 2005 at 5:13 pm
Hi Jenn, hope you (and that strange woman who insisted on hanging out with us) had a good journey home.
It was wonderful to meet you - indeed, it were reet grand, as we say up here in Lancastershire.
Look forward to seeing you again sometime, until then all the best to you, David, Sophie and Hannah.
And KEEP ON WRITING!!! Maybe you can tell us what really happened this weekend…
21. TRF | October 31st, 2005 at 8:36 pm
Help! I need a BEAW
22. TRF | October 31st, 2005 at 8:37 pm
(continued) posting NOW! Can’t… hang… on… much… lonnng…
23. Spot the Wonder Dog | November 1st, 2005 at 12:09 am
Dweeb man peered
Breed ‘em and weep
Deep web meander
Warp me, be needed
Beware, me depend
Weep, demand beer
Weeper be damned.
We nap, bed redeem
Ere dame be pwned!
24. the Mater | November 1st, 2005 at 9:37 am
My word! I arrived home late last night and see that my daughter wrote quite a send-off to this whole affair …
It was quite an unusual and amazing week, filled with new friends and the incomparable Miranda Knocking! High point: cocktail party pranks by Jennifer and her being in the same room as Miranda! Quite a night that will surely find its spin on this blog …
Jenn, did you get the girls off to daycare? Are you awake, lassie?! And let me go on record right now: I only managed to give Miranda one copy of Jenn’s blog :>) To say I kept a low profile would probably be pushing it though … I’ll let Jenn handle the front story ‘cause I’m sure I’ll have to then handle the rebuttal! At least there will be witnesses: Blackpool Tone and Coley, please come to my aid should the moment arrive! R-e-s-p-e-c-t - it’s all about respect!
Cheers and good to be back :>)
25. Coley | November 2nd, 2005 at 6:39 pm
Miranda Knocking sure spanks of porn to me!!
Nice one Geo and genius from Jenn!!
26. astrogeologist | November 7th, 2005 at 12:57 am
Wow! You surely have the rapier, sardonic wit! Kept me in stitches!
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