I already know that when I post this and it publishes to my news feed on Facebook, only about 4 people are going to know what I’m talking about (clearly, you 4 are awesome people, and two of you are responsible for introducing me to this in the first place). Dr. Who is a science fiction (and so much more!) show that airs on BBC. Or in my case, through the magic of Netflix instant streaming video. Available right now are a bunch of old movies (Dr. Who goes way back to the 1960s or something) and seasons 1-6 of the more recent version of the show, which has been on since 2005ish.
But why am I writing about Dr. Who? Because he is the reason I haven’t been writing. We blitzed the whole show, watching 2-3hrs worth per night, for the last few weeks. I mean, sleep, work, and reading Martha Stewart Living factors in there somewhere as well, as does toddler wrestling, but for the most part, yeah, I’ve just been watching TV.
Not baking amazing treats, not going to grad school, not distance running or watching the news to get a grip on current events. Nope, I’ve been in my sweatpants, eating dinner off the coffee table, and having questionable dreams about David Tennant and Matt Smith (swoon). Don’t worry about Shawn, the actresses on the show are also quite beautiful/witty/smart, just like me, so I’m sure he is enjoying the show too. He eats his dinner in the recliner.
So yeah, that’s slowed down my writing. Completely. Plus, October was a weird month and I was in sort of a funk and didn’t have anything to write about. I was going to tell you all about Homecoming week back in September, but then too much time passed, and the next thing I knew, I was thinking I should talk about Halloween (maybe I still will?)
In the meanwhile, unless we huddle around the laptop and watch the episodes from the BBC website (date night!!) we have to take a break from the Doctor and Amy (his latest assistant…coincidence?) until the next season becomes available on Netflix or DVD. In the meanwhile, I might have to get Shawn some Chucks for Christmas this year.
But anyways, if Dr. Who would take me on the TARDIS (time machine, for those of you who still have no idea what I’m yammering on about), I would redo most of October, and in the process write at least once per week, because it’s narcissistic and I’m not ashamed to admit that I like that. Let’s blame my parents for putting that activity toy with the mirror on it in my crib.
I want the Ninth Doctor (Tennant) and Captain Jack, tied naked to my bed, for Christmas. Will I get this? No. Would I settle for just one or the other? Yes. Will that make a difference on Christmas morning? Not a chance.
I am highly addicted to Doctor Who. The fact that I requested off Christmas this year at work was not just because I worked it the last four years, but because I want to watch the Doctor Who special.
And I still want a sonic screwdriver toy, so that I can go around the house pointing it at things. And I’d alternate days with that and my Hermione Granger wand.