So, I’m currently watching “The Name of the Doctor” for the third time since it was aired last week (I say “currently”; I got distracted by it and it finished an hour ago) and, I have to say, it gets better with every viewing…
I’m utterly convinced that John Hurt is “The Valeyard” – first seen in Collin Baker’s “Trial of a Timelord” in the mid-1980s – every bad or potentially evil element of The Doctor personified. Of course, I could be wrong, it is just speculation! But, no, I think I’m right. I guess we’ll have to wait 6 months to find out. Ultimate cliff-hanger! ARGH!!
Yesterday I wasn’t feeling too great – the baby had decided that during one of my busiest weeks of my MA she was going to wake up every few hours and then shout to have breakfast at 6am every morning (she normally loves her sleep and has been sleeping from from 8pm-7am since she was 7weeks old) – and in my sleep-deprived state I woke up thinking it was Doctor Who Saturday (yes, that is one of my first thoughts of a Saturday morning). After a while, scrolling through the channels later on that day, reality hit like a slap in the face from Clara Oswald (but a really big, sweaty version, just to add insult to injury); no Doctor Who anymore.
This made me sad (again) for many reasons.
Although this series of Doctor Who has been really hit and miss – I enjoyed it but it hasn’t been as good as previous series – it went out with a BIG BANG (haha) and ended on an incredibly exciting, mysterious, intense note.
What am I meant to do on Saturday nights now!? BGT’s not even on at the moment and even The Cube was replaced last night by the football (another big, sweaty slap, this time in the proverbials). I’m too old to go out and get drunk (it takes me 2 days to recover from a hangover and a further 2 months to get over the state of utter embarrassment I get the morning after from saying the most cringing, unlikely things when I’m drunk) and too young to fall asleep in front of the TV by 9pm, surrounded by knitting and cats (just).
What do I blog about now?? I guess it’s back to the Doctor Who anecdotes; the ones where I make an arse of myself in front of the Doctor Who Writers and Actors. That’s fine. I have many.
Basically, I’m rather lost without Doctor Who in my life.
Roll on 23rd November!
For now, here’s my daughter in a Dalek dress…
Parenting; I’m doing it right.