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.

Social Awkwardness 101

It's the 101st Socially Awkward Adventure!  To celebrate, I'mma post 101 ways to create, inspire, and spread awkwardness. Oh, joy!


1. Send yourself flowers and sign your coworker's name to the card.  Loudly thank your coworker, making a huge production out of it.

2. When someone speaks over the loudspeaker at the grocery store, fall down, cover your ears and scream, "NOT THE VOICES AGAIN!!!"

3. Walk up to a stranger, sniff his shoulder, turn, and walk away.

4. Laugh.  Maniacally.  For no apparent reason.

5. Put cilantro in everything.  Everything.
6. Tell someone you want to tell them a knock knock joke.  Then ask them to start it.

7. While in public, loudly sing the incorrect lyrics to Elton John songs (ie. "hold me closer, Tony Danza" or "She's got electric boobs!  Her mom does, too!  You know I read about Charlie Sheen!").

8. Stare at people.

9. Smile at people.

10. Stare and smile at people.

11. Ask your blind date if s/he's ever let anyone else pick his/her nose.

12. Do this (it helps if you're a girl).
13. Eat onions and go breathe on people.  Tell them they have bad breath.

14. Talk on the "banana phone" in public. 
15. Ask for something in a different accent every time your waiter asks if he/she can get you anything.

16. Use the phrase "That's what she said!" when it makes no sense to use it.  (i.e. "I went to the grocery last night."  "THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!")

17. Wait till you're on an elevator with a complete stranger, then press the emergency stop button.  After the elevator comes to a complete stop, inform the stranger that you are currently wearing new socks.

18. Go to donate blood dressed as Count Dracula.

19. Give names to all of your potato chips and befriend them.  Take them with you to while picnicking in a public park.  Loudly cry and mournfully call out their names as you eat them, also sporadically saying, "Oh, no! Not you, Christy!  Why?  Why couldn't I eat just one?" and "I'm sorry, Barry!  Once I pop, I just can't stop."

20. Wear all your clothes backwards.  Also walk backwards.  If you run into someone, politely suggest that they watch where they're going.

21. Pretend a person you've never seen before is actually an old friend you haven't seen in months.  If the person asks who you are, pretend to be offended and storm off.

22. Invite people to a surprise party for yourself, reminding them not to tell you about it.

23. Roll your windows down and blast dorky music while waiting at stoplights.

24. Apologize profusely when you run into inanimate objects.

25. Call someone by the wrong name.  Argue heatedly with him/her when s/he tries to correct you.

26. Hum in a high pitched voice while pretending to watch a fly buzz around the room. 

27. In the full view of several people (preferably strangers), go into the corner of a room, peek inside your manbag and loudly whisper "Hey, are you okay in there?  Got enough air?"

28. Carry a manbag.

29. Go to one of those parties where people try to get you to buy overpriced junk, and freely admit, out loud, that you're only there for the food and possible freebies.

30. Tell everyone you know about your ribbon collection.

31. Dig a pit in your front yard, cover yourself with leaves, and jump out at people.
32. Write songs about your love for bacon that inadvertently sound Anti-Semitic.  Also inadvertently sing them in front of Jewish people.

33. Develop a borderline creepy fascination with the number four.

34. When meeting someone for the first time, sneeze and cough "wetly" into your hand.  Then immediately offer it to the other person for a friendly handshake.

35. Use imaginary words (be sure to have an imaginary definition ready for your imaginary word, just in case someone asks).

36. Go to Taco Bell and ask for a Big Mac.

37. Post an embarrassing status on Facebook over, and over, and over.  Sometimes, Facebook is kind enough to do this for you without any effort on your part.  (Insert sarcastic smile here!)

38. Stare at someone's ear while having a conversation with them.  Refuse to break ear-contact even if the other person starts getting seriously weirded out...and they WILL get weirded out.

39. Be a happily single woman in her thirties.

40. Recite Justin Beiber lyrics as if they were lines in some great classical play. (Baby.  Baby.  Baby. NOOOO!)  I'm telling you, that lyrical brilliance reads just like Shakespeare.... (not hatin', just sayin')

41. Ask people if they'd like to buy your invisible pickle.

42. When your friends have a roadkill deer in their yard, write a song about it.

43. Tell your new roommate at a conservative Southern Baptist Seminary that Joel Osteen is your favorite author. 

44. Go to a thrift store just to hear the crazy people talk to themselves.

45. Go trick-or-treating.  On the fourth of July.

46. Be entirely too passionate about your right to wear flip flops.

47. When your dryer buzzes at the laundromat, crack the door open, peek inside, and say, "Hey grandma, give me another quarter if you want to ride again."

48. Use a door (note: only awkward in situations involving other people, unless you happen to be particularly "gifted").

49. Write a blog about 101 socially awkward things and run out of things to write about at #49.  Yeah.  That was awkward...

Just Sayin' Episode #6: It Could Be Worse

I watched a movie today with the girls I watch.  Now, I was a little reluctant to watch said movie, not because I thought it was inappropriate for the girls or anything like that.  It's just that I have seen this movie before, and I felt uncomfortably sorry for the protagonist.  But I watched it again.  And yet again, I was overwhelmed with pity for the main character that bordered on discomfort.

"Dave" in The Sorcerer's Apprentice is perhaps the most socially awkward character I have ever encountered in either film or literature.  Granted, dude had a traumatic experience in a creepy magic store in a dirty alley in New York City, where a scraggly-haired, mad-eyed Nicholas Cage got him alone and wanted to "show him something."  I'm glad the girls didn't pick up on that being creepy, because I really didn't want to have to try to explain that to them.

But this guy grew up to be mentored (or, as scraggly-haired, mad-eyed Nicholas Cage put it, "MASTERED") by scraggly-haired, mad-eyed Nicholas Cage, so even if he WASN'T the most socially awkward character I've ever encountered in either film or literature, I'm pretty sure his chances of being well-adjusted to society were slim to none.

He stuttered.  He said the wrong thing ALL the time.  He hung out with...tesla coils. 

I'm not even sure what those are?  My sister the rocket scientist probably does.  She probably hangs out with them, too.  All I know is that they have to do with SCIENCE...and in the movie they make pretty colored sparkly lightning.  And rainbow ponies.  I might have made that last part up.

So dude was UBER awkward, at least he had a pretty cool Dragon ring.  That kind of thing would appeal to a socially awkward chick like me.  But no, no.  He ended up with the pretty girl who had it all together.  Which would never happen in real life.  I mean, cool Dragon ring or no, I'm pretty sure ANY girl (even the socially awkward chicks like me) would run away from him if he admitted that he was stalking her "in a non-threatening way" or if he cancelled a date because he was getting fondled by enchanted mops. 

So my social awkwardness?  Could be worse.  I could be that dude.  ...in pointy old man shoes.

Just sayin'.