Well, that's even more than less than unhelpful.

Doctor Who

Awkward Hugs with Lord Voldemort

Blimey, it’s been a while since I’ve updated this. (Seems like the way most bloggers start their posts–boring. So scratch that.)

OH MY GOD THERE’S A MONGOOSE BEATING UP A RABBIT WHILE JUMPING ON A POGOSTICK AND YODELING IN FRENCH BACKWARDS!

Much better. Well, the summer in Iowa is done (thank God)* and I’ll be heading back up to Minnesota in three days…three days…wow, now that I write it (type it–semantics)…it seems even closer. Time to pack! New this year, I won’t be heading back to the cities for school, instead I’m going to be heading even further into the northern expanse of Minnesota–Bemidji. Why?

Well, for the same reason any crazy student would change their completely feasible career major of English Literature for the completely less feasible career of Special Effects in the film industry. That’s right folks. I’m switching to art, with an emphasis in sculpture and digital design, in hopes of landing a job working with film conceptualization. Think Weta Workshop.

Which reminds me. Benedict Cumberbatch and Martin Freeman(both from a completely magnificent British series called Sherlock) in The Hobbit are going to be absolutely brilliant. Not to mention Richard Armitage. Oh, British actors. You warm my heart. (And a shout out to Michael Fassbender, my new discovered actor over the summer, who gave Magneto some real flesh and did some amazing evasive maneuvers in Centurion avoiding crazy Picts. )

So. Bemidji. Gonna live with really great friends, the Thoofts, and I’m convinced it’s going to be absolutely brilliant. I can’t stop using the word brilliant as a description (there’s a tiny David Tennant in my ear saying it over and over). Maybe I’ll default to Christopher Eccleston: it’s going to be FANTASTIC.

And somewhere in all of this I want to end up in Scotland. So you explain my life path. It’s an adventure.

Well, that’s what’s happening here.

(more…)

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Doctor Who Calendar Candy

Cat and Jess got me this Dalek advent calendar last time they were in Scotland for me for Christmas. Cat warned me that the chocolates inside were rubbish. I love them. So apparently, I like really cheap chocolate. And now I’m coming to the point where I’m realizing that within two weeks I will be “across the pond” in Scotland. Where I can eat them. The Chocolate. Not Cat and Jess. In Scotland.

It’s been four VERY LONG years since I’ve been over there. And now, the way that God does the things he does–spontaneously, I’m headed back over. There really aren’t words to express how excited I am about this opportunity. Last time I was there, 2007, I lost my heart. Plain and simple. I can already tell that this is going to be life changing. For better or for worse. Right now–I’m tipping towards for better. It’s my chance to test the waters. And just be bloody brilliant.

My spring break is going to be crazy busy with homework and work (as I have to do all of the work that I’ll be missing when I’m over in Scotland) but it is so worth it! That’s right, folks. I’ve been confined to the city for Spring Break. Could be worse. But it definitely sucks not hanging with the family.

Also. I’ve now made it 29 days without soda. I know, I know. Crazy. Now it’s just convincing myself to wake up early enough to hit the gym. It’ll happen. Someday.

Oh. And I’m going to do something. Someday.

Raise your pints to Scotland.


Because it’s more than slightly awkward to have “Han about to kiss Leia” as the header of your blog. If all else fails, go with Jack Sparrow. Nobody ever has anything to say about him. No really. They don’t.

So. If you haven’t noticed yet, those of you who somewhat follow these random musings, I can’t really stick with one “blog theme background thingy”. I went for the grunge look, which worked quite well, but then I didn’t have a header. So I switched to a nice dark theme (a slight variation on the grunge theme but with a header). And then I figured out “customizable header” or in other words “complete license to arbitrarily insert pictures that may or may not accurately represent your blog and will infringe on all copyright rights”. (Does copyright rights seem redundant to you?)

Anyways, after going through dozens of images (including but not limited to Doctor Who, Lost, Me–which led to some concerns about my identity but then I thought “well I guess my identity is on facebook for the whole world to see so I don’t know what the big deal is anyways”–to pictures of knights, more Doctor Who, and then Star Wars. Of course, the only Star Wars picture I had on my mac that was compatible with the “header upload thingy” was a picture of Han going in to kiss Leia. And I felt like maybe that would be a bit awkward. I mean, everytime someone wants to see a post, they gotta look at this big ol’ picture of Han and Leia getting it on, you know what I mean? I feel like that would be a bit strange, if not awkward, and possibly just bogus.

You so would have felt awkward about this. I know I did.

So I settled on Jack Sparrow. Because no one ever has anything bad to say about Jack, excluding Barbosa of course. And it kind of syncs up with the Jack Sparrow quote I have on the main blog page anyway: “Well that’s even more than less than unhelpful”. Although, admittedly, the Sparrow picture that I selected does seem like it would support his more common phrase of “why is the rum always gone?”

So. Those are my thoughts. Also, intramural football is a lot of fun. Who knew one could get such joy from getting muddy and down and dirty early in the morning? Oh, that’s right. Me. I just forgot about how fun soccer was for the six years I played. Football was fun. Usually I rip on football. Because it just isn’t as tough as Rugby. Which is true. But technically, since we weren’t playing with pads, I would kind of compare intramural football to rugby. Oh, and I got to run into people without getting in trouble. Although, now I am really sore. Like super crazy sore. But so worth it. Man, I love mud and battle wounds!

And now I am going to try to sleep. Until some other random thought passes through my head and I have to get back on the internet to check wikipedia. That’s the problem about asking questions. You have to look for the answers. Which gets pretty annoying when you’re trying to fall asleep but all that you can think about is what the main ingredient for borscht is. (It’s beets if you didn’t know. Now I know.) Also, borscht is a very fun word to spell, type, and say. Just do it.


Nostalgia Breeds Discontent.

I can’t help it. Just feeling really nostalgic about Doctor Who. I mean, I get so excited about the old stuff, and I mean yeah, I’m excited for the new stuff, but it just doesn’t have that same pull that the older new series had. (Paradox?) I’m sure the Tardis is killing itself right now just thinking about it. I can’t help it! I love watching “big ears” Christopher Eccleston run around with (best companion ever Rose) Billie Piper and “hilariously charming Jack” John Barrowman. And I get even more excited when Tennant and Piper are madly dashing about. The easy chemistry that they had. Right then. Here’s where I admit it. I’m all for the Rose-Doctor relationship. Major shipper here.

Yes. I do cry every time I watch the episode "Doomsday". Get over it. Just look at them. So perfect.

And I don’t care if that isn’t how the old Doctor Who was. This is the new Doctor Who. And I’ve figured out that’s how I’ll handle this new series with the eleventh doctor and Amy Pond. It’s brilliant, don’t get me wrong, but it isn’t my Doctor Who. My Doctor Who doesn’t have ridiculous looking Daleks.

These things were made to be stuck up runny noses.

My Daleks could kick ass. And here we are. I’ll separate Doctor Who into three separate eras: The Original, My Doctor Who, and New Doctor Who. I’ll stay painfully attached to the “my doctor who” era, the revival of the original series. You can have your silly kid’s toy Daleks and bumbling bow-tie-wearing Time Lord.

Nostalgia. Breeds. Discontent. Or. Just. Makes. You. Really. Happy. About. Your. Doctor. Who.

PS. Current Companion Running:
1) Rose Tyler–>Rose Tyler rocks.
1.5) Jack Harkness
2) Amelia Pond
3) Donna Noble
400) Martha Jones–>Martha Jones sucks.

Why Matt Smith Is Brilliant But At The Same Time Will Never Replace David Tennant.

David Tennant is. That's right. Just is. No questions asked.

David Tennant leaving Doctor Who. Every generation/people group who watches the british serial ‘Doctor Who’ gets what they call “their doctor”. For some it may be Baker, Pertwee, for others it may be Troughten or Eccleston. For me, my doctor has and always will be Tennant. He’s just so brilliant. Some might argue that he’s too radical, too much of a departure from the other doctors. But isn’t that the point of Doctor Who? Isn’t that the point of the regeneration cycle? To bring something new and refreshing and different to what has already been done. Yes, Tennant’s doctor was dashing, flawed, and hyper. But that’s why I loved him. He wasn’t a crotchety old man set in his ways. He was ready to be wrong.

Matt Smith is hilarious. He’s sort of a cross between a bumbling old man and spry young man. After all, bow ties are cool. He’s really funny–he has this off kilter sort of humor–and great comedic timing. He seems to be more befuddled then bemused as David Tennant was. David Tennant was silly–no, he was obnoxious. But here is what Tennant had going for him–his righteous anger. Tennant was the epitome of savior like hero. He would have meshed into any Greek tragedy easily. Smith has the inability to make the viewer believe it. Don’t get me wrong, I adore Smith’s interpretation, but he is no where near the level of authority Tennant’s character had. Tennant was the Oncoming Storm. Smith is the guy in the bowtie.


Mickey Smith is Not My Inspiration. But he somehow found his way into this post.

It’s that time of year again. The time where I get inspired to write. And will then indomitably forget that I should be blogging. Woops. Well, if things slow down, you’ll know where I am. Sitting at the back of the class with the safety scissors and glitter.