One of my coworkers started Doctor Who last month. I’d just left a screening of David Tennant’s Richard II (gold. nail. polish) when I saw his “Doctor Who: it’s happening” Facebook status and promptly offered the constructive comment “SHUT YOUR FACE.” Other friends chimed in with their own excitement, but when my coworker finally responded to the thread, all he said was, “Kelly, I was waiting for your comment.”
I think I’ve been found out. I want to share this show with everyone. If we spend any time together, I’ve probably got a gateway episode all picked out for you, which I will never, ever bring up in conversation, because that’s too much pressure. You can’t watch Doctor Who for anyone but yourself. But if you ever decide you want to watch it for yourself, I’ll be at your place within the hour with ice cream and a personalized guide to ruining your life the British sci-fi way.
This weekend was like Doctor Who Christmas: the 50th anniversary. FIFTY YEARS, YOU GUYS. Ours is the little show that could, and now it has, and like its title character, it’s still making people better. (more…)
But there must be stronger words to describe what I’ve actually been doing. Because it’s more like I married a fictional character and now I have a new last name, and I have to go into work and go about normal life when really everyone should be giving me presents. I have a whole new emotional register now! And in the words of new personal life hero David Tennant, “the thing about Doctor Who is that it’s very hard to explain without sounding like a lunatic.” But all I want to do is talk about it. (more…)