I’m stone cold stupid sometimes, Holly. How am I still alive I don’t even. Like, basic human functions and…really obvious things…are a mystery to me. Sometimes I forget to feed myself or eat or shower for a long while at a time. SOMETIMES I AM AN INFANT.
Sarah Jane dead? No, impossible! Impossible. Only last week I agreed to do six new audio adventures with her for Big Finish Productions.
She can’t be dead. But she is: she died yesterday morning. Cancer. I had no idea she was ill; she was so private, never wanted any fuss, and now, gone. A terrible blow to her friends and a shattering blow for all those fans of the programme whose lives were touched every Saturday evening by her lovely heroic character, Sarah-Jane Smith.
Lis Sladen was very important to me, you know. When I joined the little world of Doctor Who, Lis was already a star. She had an enormous success with Jon Pertwee. She was good pals with the Brigadier, our beloved Nicholas Courtney; she knew all the regular directors. She was adored by Barry Letts, the producer who cast her in the role. She always said she was Barry’s girl. It was for that reason she decided to leave the show. But it was not necessary at all. The fans adored her, Philip Hinchcliffe, our new and glamorous producer, adored her, so did David Maloney, her favourite director.
Terry Walsh, the regular stunt man adored her. Once in deep, dark Wooky Hole caves Lis was almost swept away in a small boat, fifty feet from a terrifying black hole that looked like the entrance to hell. In a flash Terry Walsh dived in and caught the boat and all was well, thanks to the devotion of Terry. Lis was safe and and the show could go on.
So when I replaced Jon Pertwee, it must have been an anxious time for Lis; it was a very anxious time for me. Following in the big footsteps of Jon was daunting. Tom Baker? Never heard of him. And so we started on the first story under Barry Letts as director. We did the location stuff first and I just obeyed orders; running about, with the Brigadier and that silly car Bessie Trotwood, I think it was called: too small for me, but also in its own way a “character”. Jon loved cars.
But back in the rehearsal room things were quieter and there was time to put in little details, time for Lis and me to get acquainted, time for me to try and make a little mark, so to speak. And Lis laughed at my silly antics; yes, she did, she laughed me to success. We both came from Liverpool, that small detail helped. We both loved old movies. And quite suddenly Lis and Ian Marter and Tom Baker were a trio. It is so consoling when one is sad and bereft to remember the good times, the laughter, the glamour; yes, the glamour: we three switched on the lights at Blackpool! A very great honour. We performed a little melodrama directed by (guess who?) yes, David Maloney! And now Lis was adored by Ian Marter and Tom Baker too.
And it never ceased. And in the evenings Lis, would simply disappear back to wherever we were staying and the rest of us would often be raucous! And too soon she decided to leave; no fuss at all, all was calm. And Philip Hinchcliffe gave her lovely farewell party at the Hilton. Those sweet memories of happy days with Lis Sladen, the lovely, witty, kind and so talented Lis Sladen. I am consoled by the memories. I was there, I knew her, she was good to me and I shall always be grateful, and I shall miss her.” —Tom Baker (on his website)
In the email, we were supposed to give the following:
- H Number
- Residential Building and Room Number
- Contact Phone Number
- Dates staying on campus
- Reasons for needing to stay or arrive early
…I think I may have accidentally actually sent him an email listing my room number as ‘Kohn 1 something, I’m too lazy to check.”
Um, not necessarily, actually.
Exhibit A: Look at the word: bisexual. Bi means two. Ergo, two-sexual. Bisexuality means the attraction to two genders: males and females. However, some feel that the gender spectrum is not a black-and-white, one-or-the-other concept, and the reality is that many people don’t identify, or don’t identify fully, with the sex of their body. As well as male and female individuals, there are also people in the world who identify as genderqueer, third-gender, transgender, gender-fluid, agender or otherwise: bisexuality, in etymological terms, refers only to two genders.
Exhibit B: I have a friend, who we’ll call S. S is a cis-female, and she identifies as bisexual, meaning that she dates and crushes on both males and females. However, S only dates and crushes on cis-males and cis-females - as in, she openly confesses that she wouldn’t feel comfortable dating or being intimate with genderqueer, third-gender, agender, gender-fluid, transgender or otherwise gender-identifying individuals. S is not attracted to people outside the gender binary, which is no one’s business but hers and totally fine: many people who call themselves bisexual aren’t. Thus, to differentiate those who are attracted to individuals outside the gender binary from those who aren’t, separate terms can be used. We don’t call S gay, because she is attracted to males as well as females: ergo, if S was attracted to those outside the gender binary as well as those who conform to it, we would say she was pansexual instead of bisexual.
Of course, one is free to identify as one wishes, and one needn’t even identify with any sexuality at all if one doesn’t want to. However, with the volume of LOL this girl/guy/cat thinks he’s/she’s/they’re “pansexual” roflmao showing up on my dash lately, I thought I’d make a point, since pansexuality isn’t a concept limited to thirteen-year-old wannabe hipsters on Tumblr. :)
EVERYTHING WOULD BE HOBBITS AND NOTHING WOULD HURT.
Anything having to do with or related to Costa Rica.
ME GUSTA. I want to go to there.
Dear citizens of okcupid.com,
My profile clearly states “hoi polloi need not apply”.
Maybe you should save your ‘u r cute’ for a babe who will appreciate that sentiment, because I am not she.
It was quite lovely. Thank you, darling.
Well…since you asked so nicely…
I got two pages into Metamorphoses before I powered up my computer and started tumbling.
Things I need to do today (really, any one of them would suffice):
- Study for my Social Deviance final on Wednesday. (GULP.)
- Take sculpture measurements.
- Read Ovid’s ‘Metamorphoses’.
- Pack for Easter break.
- Clean my room.
- Organize my information for my Dionysus paper.
- Do laundry.
Things I’ll probably actually do today:
- Watch Law and Order.
- Much ice cream consumption.
I understand closing the external bathroom door during intervisitation hours. If you’re showering during the day and a dude could wander past at any minute, by all means, close the damn door. I understand that the flimsy curtain between the ‘toilet and sink’ and ‘shower’ areas does not provide adequate coverage from dudes trying to scope your lady parts. Closing the door at that point makes a ton of sense.
However, if I come out for my 5 am emergency bathroom run and the door is semi-closed with no sound coming out and was open when I used the loo about 4 hours ago, I can only assume one thing.
It’s not even convenient to close the door on your way out of the bathroom. There’s no handle. It swings into the bathroom. You actually sort of have to try to close it on your way out. Why would you do this to me? I watch far too many procedural crime dramas to not be at least slightly paranoid about being murdered in the dorm bathroom without you setting the scene in my mind. Now I’ll be checking every goddamn corner of this stupid bathroom and checking my closet for rampaging serial killers. Are you proud of yourself, random door-closing bastard? If I ever find out who you are, I will punch you in the left tit and then pee on you. You made my morning bathroom visit miserable, you twatwaffle. You deserve to know the full spectrum of my wrath.
I hope you choke.
I get confused when people call me by pet names or nicknames.
I have one friend who constantly calls me random nicknames, just to test them out. The most recent one that she’s been trying is ‘Mop’.
Hannah, if you read this, please stop calling me that.
I’m sorry that my blog has been…so unquality recently.
I MISS YOU GUYS. I DO! Probably an unhealthy amount…I’m really attached to my internet relationships.
I am, however, trying to spend lots of time off-tumblr, and it’s probably going to be this way until mid-July when I move home.
It’s also tough because the only things I really have to say are real-life oriented, and I don’t want to blather on about the shit going down in my day-to-day life because, let’s face it, no one REALLY wants to hear my silly little stories and I don’t want anyone to feel like I’m…idk rubbing real life in their faces or anything and HOLY SHIT that sounds really condescending and I don’t mean it to.
At some point in the future, I will be living at home and this blog will again be a dumping ground for my drunken antics, ridiculous insights, and pictures of pizza. I LOOK FORWARD TO THAT DAY.