That’s lovely, understated use of Copperplate, BBC DVD cover dudes. Way to restrain yourselves. It’s so overused.
Saturday at the Lurv household was pretty lame and boring. The poor kidlet and I were all awoooone. You know. Alone. Hubbster being the good Samaritan he is, was helping his brother move into a new place. Am I a stone-cold beeyotch for not leaping at the chance to go clean the place for them when hubby called that afternoon and asked if I would? Yeah, didn’t think so. I know, I said I’d been bored, but really now, how much more lame could it get than hauling me and kidlet thirty minutes via car on a stormy, nasty day to go CLEAN MY BRO-IN-LAW’S HOUSE. After I’d been cleaning ours. What are they, afraid of the house cooties? I touch them every single day. Pansies.
I’m not the fun one in our house. Please, don’t choke on your coffee. It’s true. Hubbster is much more fun than I and I feel bad for kidlet when it’s just her and I. I have to do lame things like clean MY house and the messes that we all make, blah dee blah blah. I do things with her of course, but daddy-kins really lights up both our lives. So by the end of the day, we were both tired and tired of each other. Poor kidlet! Yes, poor thing, despite her making me want to tear my hair out. Loves her, I DO.
After putting kidlet to bed, I found myself flipping through even more boring crap on TV. WHY DO I PAY FOR THIS CRAP? I pay to flip through monotonous, useless TV! I’ve been made a bitch by our satellite company! I blame the need to watch True Blood on Sunday nights because I’m a good girl who does not torrent. Anyway, the final straw was this weird movie. The culprit was a STARZ channel featuring something called The Country Bears. Here, go look at the trailer and SUFFER AS I DID for the few seconds I saw it. Something about “real” bears that talk and play music. With people. In a band. Yes, these people talk back to them. WTF, world, why do you hate us so?
(Before we go any further, yes, I did know that this is based on a beloved book, I haven’t been quite that head-in-the-sand. I might read it one day. After I’ve watched this five hundred or so more times. It’s The Armitage, you understand. Roowwrrr.)
What does this all have to do with the BBC miniseries, North and South? Well, my fine, fine Lurvlets, it’s to illustrate in glorious technicolor that after having a lame boring day to rival all previous editions of the Lame and Boring Day, you too can has a reward! I literally said fuck this shit after seeing that mushroom-enhanced bear crap on STARZ and said, This chick is going to watch North and South! Finally! I will do so with coffee and something tasty! Yes, I’m saying I’ve had this in my house, the security tape unopened, for over a month. Yes, I’ve received my punishment – remember The Country Bears and cue those shudders. By this time it was almost 11:00 at night, hence the coffee. I thought I’d maybe watch about half and wretchedly pine for the rest after several weeks had gone by (not having time to watch the rest for a good while, likely).
But…something happened. Before I knew it, the first two episodes were over. I couldn’t get the second disc in the DVD player fast enough. The heart rate was accelerating to the speed of plaid. Crack. BBC crack! The BBC is literally shipping crack to the States in the form of awesome acting, a compelling romance and beautiful cinematography. BBC – you is mai dealer of choice! We will totes keep the borders open for you.
Folks. A lot of you have talked about this miniseries/movie before. I remember it being all the fluttery, breathy-sighing rage when I first came on the Blogosphere scene back in 2008. I mean, people, it’s all you talked about. North and South this, Richard Armitage that, breathy, swoony madness! I distinctly remember not giving a crap. I mean, you are all lovely people, but I could’ve cared less about The Armitage or some silly ass BBC production. I never even took the time to see what the premise was back then! I had books to read. A kidlet to put on the toiler over and over again to no potty-training avail. I think I was thinking a lot about exercising. Thinking about exercising should totally count. I was probably getting addicted to Starbucks around then. I didn’t have time for your silly obsession with North and South! Paaahh!
Recently, I looked up the premise for North and South. Oooh, So yall were NOT talking about the Civil War miniseries with Patrick Swayze (God rest his poor soul)? Well why didn’t yall say the hell so? The BBC series by the same name takes place in England? With a theme of clashing social classes? And lovely Victorian costuming? And whoa – a love story? *pre-swoon*
I assure you, I paaahh! no more. I now know what the heck you all were swooning over. I see now that Richard Armitage smolders. I see that he is sexiness personified with a triple side dish helping of I Want You Now. Even when he’s beating the shit out of a weaker man in the movie, something alights inside of me like a cat sighting a tasty bird. Your own inner feline-ness says ignore his gruffness, latch onto that fire in his eyes, albeit a somewhat smarmy one at times, and chant with all the powers of the combined force of romance enthusiasts everywhere – mill owner John Thornton will be redeemed! You gladly sign on the devil’s dotted line that you will stay up as late as it takes to absorb all that is North and South into your very psyche. Your very soul.
And you, quite frankly, fall in love. Just sit back and take that in for a second. Do you feel like you’ve just gotten done having a glorious massage at a luxe day spa? Sho nuff, sista, and it only cost you $17.99 at Amazon with free 2-day Prime shipping. Boneless. This movie turned you into a boneless KMont cutlet of swoony goo.
It is now close to or after 3:00 in the morning. I am done with the most romantic movie of MY LIFE. My jaw is located somewhere on the carpet. The dog is probably chewing on it, cuz, well, she’s a chewer. I only had two times when I was taken out of the movie and that was 1. when Margaret, our wonderful heroine, decided to dress herself in fancy lettuce for a dinner party at the Thornton house (It was awful and pale green and…lettucy. I know they weren’t rich, but geeze, Dad. Get another teaching job, your daughter’s a PETA Lettuce Lady!), and 2. when she attends the Great Exhibition in London. I remember thinking she needed to watch out for Mark and Passion behind that screen, maybe run in the opposite direction lest she and Thornton tear each other’s clothes off as well. Wait, why didn’t that happen? Oh GOD, World! You prove yourself a cruel, cold wretch of an ass yet again!
Dudes, I think we can all breath easier now knowing this is what Bonnie Tyler was singing about in Total Eclipse of the Heart. Wait, what? You’re all up in arms about the song being written and sung before the movie? Pffffffffftttttttt. Helllooo, obviously Bonnie Taylor was a time traveler. AND psychic. Chaaaaaww. Warning, that music video might scar you for life. Just put North and South back in, ‘kay? I won’t be responsible for your psychiatrist bill. For fugs sakes, people, I was talking about the lyrics.
Anyway, I’m a convert. If there was ever some kind of North and South event, with loads of Armitage’s running around (oh be still, you silly damn heart), ladies in Victorian get up, cups of tea being served, I’d be there. If it was close by. And I could afford to go. I’d go as Bessy Higgins. She was so wonderful! And I could probably pull off her poor, drab wardrobe. Otherwise it would be as Margaret in her lettuce dress. With my bosoms all a-heaving.
If you haven’t watched this yet, you’re in luck in that you too get a grace period of two years in which to wake the hell up. After that, look me up so we can swoon over this thing together and giggle about Armitage like two sexually budding school girls.
If that doesn’t convince you, watch this pretty good fan trailer.
Dude, do you even have any swoon left in you?
North and South, I am unequivocally yours. Take me however you want. Yes, I realize I just possibly went TMI with this whole thing. But who hasn’t.
This has been the story of the truer than true adventures of how I became a North and South fan. Run, don’t walk, to get your viewing on. Grab your tissues, grab your comfy loungy lounge pants and don them and your slanket or other such equivalent adult blankie and prepare to utterly die of romantic bliss. Altogether now: *siiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggghhhhhhhh*
ETA: Since posting this I’ve watched it almost all the way through another time – and the hubby watched it with me! In fact, he planned to stay up and watch all of it while I trudged to bed. And he likes it, he really really likes it! If I didn’t know it already, I’d say he was a keeper.