Seems to be that good taste is hereditary…
When baby wakes me up far earlier than I’d like every morning (and by ‘far earlier than I’d like’ I mean any time before 9am), I like to watch a bit of day time TV whilst I give her a bottle…
On Saturday morning I, naturally, struggled to find anything decent to watch on the hundreds of channels we have. However, due to the glory that is Tevo (is that how you Americans spell it? We just call it Virgin Media this side of the Pond. “Pond”. Like “Amy”. Made me laugh), I found some Doctor Who episodes my Mother had recorded for the kids. Brilliant way to start a Saturday!
So… Putting on The Big Bang (I do love Matt Smith and Karen Gillan, they’re like the new Tennant and Piper, but ginger and complete with Bow Tie. Both make me happy), I started giving baby her ‘breakfast’.
After some moments of excited distraction (I get a bit mesmerised by Doctor Who), I realised that baby had stopped taking her bottle and started ‘talking’ (cooing in that cute baby way) to something. Looking down, I realised that not only had baby stopped taking her bottle to concentrate on the television but she had also turned round slightly in my arms to get a better view AND was enjoying it so much, she was shouting at the Doctor!
I’m raising a Whovian…
Safe to say, Doctor Who really does appeal to all ages!
Occasionally, things make me happy…
As I get older, I get more and more cynical about the world around me. I seem to have become a master of double-think as I enter my mid-twenties… I’m really good at both disliking and, simultaneously, finding joy in the most irritating of things; Facebook being a prime example and one I regularly discuss. Naturally.
However, what I have found a lot of joy in very recently (apart from, of course, being a Mummy) is the amount of people now taking an interest in my incessant ramblings and embarrassing stories of geek-dom.
It makes me so happy that something as iconic and amazing as Doctor Who has seemingly brought so many people together.
America, Britain, Australia, even Japan all communicating joyously over a television programme and the fascinating stories that go with it.
I’m so used to feeling frustrated by the world around me, but the fact that all of you are coming together, to read my stories, gives me a flash of calm in an otherwise slightly annoying world.
Doctor Who really has created a multi-coloured, multi-functioning family. Free from discrimination or judgement.
Please keep sharing your Doctor Who stories with me. Every single one puts a smile on this otherwise grumpy, disabled, single Mum’s face.
Doctor Who – doing so much more than it says on the tin!
P.s. Was the Peter Davison/David Tennant Children in Need episode a fair few years back anyone else’s favourite thing to have ever been on TV? Haha.
Sometimes I embarrass myself…!
Today, I’d like to share with you a story. It’s a good story (for me) and I think you’ll like it. I’m certainly going to enjoy telling you it…:
Once upon a time, there was a lovely, somewhat geeky but incredibly charming (!), teenage girl (me, obviously) who had an unapologetically massive crush on an established, talented and bloody dreamy actor called Peter Davison (yes, it’s one of these. Have fun).
Having watched all of Peter Davison’s adventures in the TARDIS, most of his Doolittle-esque antics with the Farmyard Creatures (both Great and, indeed, Small) and drooling over his mischievous attempts at succeeding as a big-shot Doctor in a small Island off the coast of the UK (off the Distant Shores), this girl – let’s call her Sophie, just because 😉 – heard through the geek-vine that this wondrous actor was finally making a (rare) appearance at a Doctor Who convention. Well, she had to go, lest she miss the opportunity to swoon, blush and, of course, stutter nervously at the man she had admired for so long (about 18 months. A long old time in teenage girl terms, right?)!
So… Off she wobbled, crutches and wheelchair (ripe for the sympathy vote) in hand, and suitably red faced, to the convention that would give her the chance of a life-time.
What was that she saw, perched discreetly on the edge of a sales stool on the day that would change her life forever (you know, the day she would inevitably embarrass herself in front of the established actor she’d watched for so long in awe)? An untouched, unused piece of Peter Davison, Doctor Who, original 1980’s wall paper. Well, it must’ve been fate! Sophie had to have it and get it signed by him in order that she could then show off to all her friends (who, of course, wouldn’t have a clue who he was).
Waiting in the long and, somewhat epic, queue for photographs and autographs with the legend that still is, and planning lots of cool, charming and normal-person type things to say to him for the entire wait, our heroine got to the front, standing with crutches in hand, in front of the beautiful Peter Davison, her mind went blank, her face scarlet and blotchy and her vocal cords shrivelled with nerves, completely unwavering….
All she could say to the intelligent, talented, charismatic actor she’d so long adored was the following:
“I’m your biggest fan, Mr Davison!”
Yeah, cool (!).
However, this was the end result:
Notice the shiny, sweaty forehead, coupled with the oh-so-gorgeous blotchy face and neck?
Yeah, good job making the man feel uncomfortable love (!)
Needless to say, they didn’t live happily ever after.
But I did get this SUPER COOL photograph.
Moral of the story? Don’t celebrity-stalk. Someone always ends up red-faced and speechless.
So, yeah, I’m pretty obsessional. And proud of it, too…