Nerd Alert! ..... The Doctor is In!

I do not try to hide the fact that I am a gigantic nerd.  A well-dressed nerd, but a nerd nonetheless.  I often have nerdy obsessions, and my current one is Doctor Who?  It combines my obsession with everything British with my obsession with sci-fi and the supernatural.  Add a quirky good looking “doctor” in a bowtie, and it becomes irresistible for me.  Man, I do love a good bowtie!  The Doctor is clever, fair, and just a little bit lonely.  Even though he is an alien, there are parts of him that are so distinctly human.  His love for humanity, his need for companionship, his demand for justice, all add to his ever complicated character.  The Doctor is still a mystery even though viewers have learned different tidbits throughout the extensive run of Doctor Who?  I am by no means a Doctor Who? expert, but I am now a huge fan!  

This week marks the 50th Anniversary of Doc Who? and I can’t get enough of the marathons and specials.  I asked for TARDIS socks for Christmas, I swear the color copier in my office is a Dalek,  and if I was ever to get a tattoo it would be “Dreamer of Impossible Dreams.”  The Doctor represents hope, the idea that caring is important.  The doctor once said, “  You know that in nine hundred years of time and space and I’ve never met anybody who wasn’t important before.”  I find beauty in the idea that everyone he meets is important, that every person that he encounters in life has some significance.  People matter to him.  In a world where I often feel irrelevant, the idea that I matter is a comfort, to be brilliant is a challenge.  

If you were to ask me who my favorite Doctor is that would be a difficult question to answer.  I have an equal love for the 10th Doctor, David Tennant, and the 11th Doctor Matt Smith.  I love them for different reasons though.  

Tennant, of course is funny and quirky, but he has a strong commanding presence about him.  He has a confidence about him, and he knows his doctor is very clever, brilliant even.  There is also something kind of mad about him, something that can snap if pushed just a little too hard.  Death hath no fury like a scorned 10th Doctor.  He also loves and does all he can to protect his companions, and Universe.   

Then you have Matt Smith, the eleventh Doctor, the dream boat.  Young, quirky, full of life, and even just a bit odd in the most charming way.  The 11th doctor sees the wonder and possibility in the world, the good in people, the power of love.  The way he believes in people with such desperate hope is both heartwarming and heartbreaking.  I would love for the eleventh doctor to take my face in his hands, look me in the eyes, and tell me that I’m brilliant like he so often does with his companions.  I want to marry Smith’s Doctor (Sorry River Song), or really just Matt Smith himself!  Maybe it is just the bowtie, you all know my weakness for a good bowtie.  I also happen to like the fez he wore from time to time.  But it is not the bowtie or the fez, it is the light in his eyes, it is the way that he has a direct line to my emotions.  That is why I fancy him.  For those of you not as obsessed with everything British like I am, that mean I have the hots for him.  

Doctor Who? is always changing, evolving, and every doctor is his own man with his own adventures and companions.  That is why it stays exciting, and keeps people engaged.  I love sitting on my couch exploring the Universe with the Doctor, going on grand adventures, and losing myself in the magic of the TARDIS.  

Geronimo!   

What I Should Have Written Instead of Hiding ...

I keep saying I am going to stop going MIA on all of you readers, but then I find myself sitting in front of a blank screen waiting for my fingers to make words.  I wait for the words to flow, to find humor or tragedy in some minute detail of my life.  I look for something to entertain you, warm your hearts, or bring tears to your eyes.  The trouble is I can’t.  

I should have written some great post about the Halloween party I went to despite how huge I felt in my costume.  I should have painted this haze of a picture that involves 2 different boys kissing me that night.  Talked about how I wasn’t really sure I wanted to kiss either of them, but it had been too long and felt too good to stop.  I know I should have talked about the Texas boy creeping closer to me while we talked, leaning in and taking me by surprise when his lips touched mine.  I should have written about my quick escape when I realized we were making out in the middle of the party, and how my neighborhood bar seemed like the perfect haven.  How I saw the signs when buff boy number 2 pulled me into his kiss, and how I didn’t refuse it.  I should have talked about my lack of shame that night.  When boy number 2 walked me home I didn’t let him stay, and I was proud of myself.  I could have invited the boy I didn’t care about up to my bed to end the dry spell, to feel wanted, but I didn’t.  I should have written about that, how it made me feel, how proud I was of myself, how lonely I felt.    

I should have written about my winery adventures with Chloe, Elle, Connor and crew.  I should have written about the wine, the laughs, the cute dogs everywhere.  I should have written about brunch with Hadley, and how it turned into an all day affair.  I should have written about my date and how he split the check, how there was no spark, how it left me feeling lonelier than ever.  

More than anything I should have written about starting therapy.  I should have written about how my breakdown got to be too much for me to bear.  I have been going for two months now, and it is helping me find an inner peace.  I am working on my issues that keep me from being a happy person.  I wanted to tell all of you, even though you probably already know, that I have been drowning in my self-consciousness.  I am learning to be more assertive and to eliminate definitive words like should and must from the way I think about my life (upon my Therapist's Suggestion).   

I should have written about a lot of things, but I just didn’t know if any of you would want to read them.  More than that I think I wanted to hold something for myself after finding out about D.  I have made so many of my deepest darkest moments public, by choice, especially my relationship with D.  I was embarrassed that he could still hurt me, and I just wanted to heal in private.  I have been trying to heal the same way I always do, I guess: kiss some inappropriate boys to prove I can, surround myself with friends, and drinking LOTS of wine.  The only thing different this time was I wasn’t sure I was ready to share it with the world.