Why I'd Make a Horrible Doctor Who Companion

If you've never seen Doctor Who, please be aware that there are some minor SPOILERS, Sweetie.  I recommend you go right now and watch all the Doctor Who you can get your hands on.  And next week when you've become converted like me, come back and read this blog.  It will make more sense to you then.

So early last year, I discovered Doctor Who by watching the "new Who" on Netflix.  That's the way most future Whovians start.  And most people have a similar first reaction:

What. in. the. world. is. this. and. why. can't. I. stop. watching...?

And then, after a few episodes about intelligent plastic/crazy mannequins, a poorly animated flat lady who demands to be moisturized, and a race of green creatures who zip up into human suits and fart all the time, something strange happens and most people actually begin to LIKE the show.  At first, you can't turn away because it's so bizarre and awful.  But by the end of the last season, you're actually sad that Christopher Eccleston went away.  Until you see David Tennant, and you lose your heart and mind to the abyss that is his awesome.  And Doctor Who becomes more than just a show--it becomes a lifestyle.  And even after Tennant left, though I'm not a huge fan of Matt Smith, Arthur Darvill as Rory kept things interesting enough to keep me hooked.  ...and I'm really looking forward to Peter Capaldi, because he's basically a blue-eyed older version of Tennant.

Yeah, at least that has been my experience.

I think that most Whovians are also the sort that secretly dream that one day a TARDIS will appear from nowhere, a handsome stranger will emerge, extend his hand and say:

Because the thing is, if we can't BE the Doctor, then we want to be the next best thing.  Which, of course, would be the Doctor's companion.

(of course, I do think I'd make a pretty fabulous Doctor...
if the Doctor would ever be female...
...and American...
...which he should never, ever, EVER be...
I digress...)

Yeah, so, since the TARDIS has never appeared in my bedroom...

A girl can dream...

...it's probably a moot point.  But I've actually given the matter a lot of thought, as in, too much thought to really be justified.  And I've come to the sad conclusion that I'd probably make a terrible companion for the Doctor.  There are several reasons for this.

1. I'd fall in love with him.

Yeah, apparently that's only okay if you're Rose Tyler.

I'm going to be jealous of you forever, Rose Tyler.  That's what I'm going to do.  

2. I'm socially awkward.

Well, this probably wouldn't be that much of a big deal.  I mean, most of the Doctor's companions have had at least a little bit of social awkwardness. 

 Yeah, a bit of social awkwardness is practically a prerequisite for being open-minded enough to travel through all and time and space.  You can't cling to things like logic and societal norms, because, well, there aren't any.  And the Doctor himself is pretty awkward, too.

So much better than Matt Smith's giraffe dance, in my humble opinion.
Seriously...I could watch this all day.  All...day...

But I happen to be a bit of a homebody.  I would rather go read a book than go to a party.  So, I have the feeling that even with all of time and space at my fingertips, I'd rather just stay on the TARDIS and take a nap than go meet aliens.

Either that or I'd get off the TARDIS to meet aliens and people from the past, and I'd start CONSTANTLY saying and doing things that would make the Doctor say:

Eventually, I wouldn't have to ask to stay on the TARDIS.  The Doctor would just be like, "Yeah...why don't you just stay here and recalibrate something. ...on second thought, no.  Just sit there.  And don't touch anything.  And don't think about touching anything.  And...never mind.  I'm taking you back to earth.  Now.

3. I'm afraid of everything.

On top of social phobias, I'm also afraid of little things like heights and open spaces and closed spaces and change and things staying the same and rap music.  Then, last year THIS happened, and now I'm afraid of staircases, too.  

Of course, there might be ways to get around staircases...

...or not...

And being afraid of things doesn't mean I don't try to do them anyway...

Eighth Doctor: You're not afraid of heights, are you?

Grace: Yeah.

Eighth Doctor: So am I.

(I know it's not the right scene.  It's better.  Shut up)

But, in the long run, I don't think that the Doctor would be patient enough to deal with someone who has as many hang-ups as I do.

4. I lack basic athletic skills.

Let's face it.  This is pretty much the gist of Doctor Who:

While I have been a runner in the past, I'm a bit out of shape right now.  And even if I were running like I used to, I'm pathetically slow.  And slow-long-distance running was about the apex of my athletic abilities.  I'm pretty much useless in any kind of dangerous situation that might involve using strength, speed, or skill.

Basically...I'd die the first time I ever left the TARDIS, and the Doctor would feel guilty.  And I don't want him to feel guilty, so it would be better for me to just stay on earth.  And away from statues.  And never ever blink.

5. I'm too silly.

You'd think that this would be a good thing.  The Doctor, himself, can be rather silly.  And a fair amount of silliness is a very good thing in a good companion.  A completely rational companion could not handle the beautiful ridiculousness of the Doctor.

...beautiful ridiculousness, indeed.  Mmm...

But my problem is that I have TOO much silliness.  The Doctor needs someone to ground him.  A little silly is exactly what he needs, but too much silly would probably cause the universe to implode or something.

But then again, it could work.  

If I were ginger...

Because, let's face it, there was a LOT of silliness going around with the Doctor and Donna.  It was magical and good.

And even with her silliness, she managed to keep him well-grounded (and the rest of the universe in check, too).

But in my current state of hair colors, I really think I am too much like the Doctor.  Just rude and not ginger.

There are sometimes, though, that I wonder.  I wonder if maybe I once was a companion.  Because if I were a companion, I'd be a lot like Donna (albeit, not ginger).  And maybe I had epic adventures with the Doctor.  And maybe I even became the most important woman in the universe.  And then maybe...maybe...

I forgot.

Now, if you will excuse me, I must go.  I have a huge case of the feels that must be dealt with.

Happy running.