Yesterday I shared with you a little glimpse of an obsession (one of many) I have. Most of you know me, so most of you know about this. But I would still like to bore you with it, anyway (I’m not going to ask if that’s ok because if it’s not, it’s kind of tough. “LOL”). The great thing about this obsession is that I’m not the only one in my house to possess such an undying love (bit Lord Byron, but it is a love I have, better than any man); my entire family share it with me. Of course, being such a free and laid-back Mother (!), my daughter WILL like it too (just like she WILL have a PhD, but that’s another story for you to judge me on at another time) when she’s old enough to appreciate it’s amazingness.
Now, it has dawned on me that I’ve never explained to you the reasoning behind my alias – “Sophiewho” – so… it is, naturally, related to this obsession (and yes, I do freely use the term “obsession” exhaustingly and, no, I’m not ashamed of my obsessional tendencies), it’s not just some socially backward, lame attempt at being mysterious or cool (we all know I’m the coolest kid in the playground. Or something).
This obsession is, of course, Doctor Who.
I love Doctor Who. I fell in love with Doctor Who when I was 16 and I first saw The Fifth Doctor in action. Tall, blond, authoritative, Peter Davison’s Doctor was every socially awkward, teenage girl’s dream man (or was that just me?). Oh, how I adore him, even now.
I adored Peter Davison’s Doctor so much that, for my 17th (?) birthday, my Mum bought me a Fifth Doctor costume, complete with hat (I am soooo trendy, it hurts, I know. Everyone wants to be me. Even I’m jealous of me. Haha) and, when she went on holiday to the Dominican Republic, she left me an abundance of gifts (one to open each day) all related to Peter Davison’s era. A near-life-size cardboard TARDIS with all of The Fifth Doctor’s TV adventures and novels to match.
Around this time was when I started Celebrity Stalking (I know, I just keep getting more and more enviable, right?). But not in a weird way. In a cool way. I think. I mean, I use crutches every day and a wheelchair for long distances so Celebrities both love and remember me (photo opportunities? :p). I frequented Doctor Who conventions (I am aware, yes) and, as a result, I befriended someone FANTASTIC who let my family and I come to the set of Doctor Who whilst they were filming David Tennant and Billie Piper’s School Reunion story. I’m just going to show off a bit by showing you this COOL picture:
Quite obviously, when Doctor Who came back with Christopher Eccleston and Billie Piper I was pretty excited. Not as excited, though, as when the beautiful David Tennant took over and made the dodgy Sci-Fi series sexy once more:
So, you can imagine my excitement when, not only did I get into a prestigious Drama School in London (one that I had my heart set on going to for five years) to do the MA I’d always wanted to do, but the Drama School that no less that TWO (yes, two) Doctors studied at.
I’ve been on the Script Writing course at this Drama School for over a year now and, still, every time I wobble up the main steps into the building and waltz into the Boardroom for a Lecture, I get filled with childlike glee as I see “Christopher Eccleston” and “Peter Davison” littered across the place. So much so that my classmates tell me off (quite rightly) and look to me for their daily dose of geek-action.
Everything comes back to Doctor Who. Life-lessons can be learnt from Doctor Who. Style can be taken from Doctor Who. And just a little bit of happy, too. For example, our living room looks like this:
My Mum’s prized possessions are these:
Even my phone is regularly dressed like this:
In summary… Ummm… I don’t know. I just wanted to show off and tell you how great I am.
Doctor Who = cool. End of.