Right, I missed Doctor Who due to dinner with my brother and his girlfriend in company, but the BBC iplayer has just delivered, so it begins.

I have some fucking jaffa cakes in my coat pocket, and am ready to be terrified.

MOFFAT, BRING IT ON.

P.S. Is something happening vis-a-vis Boris tonight? I heard something was up...

Similar to the mind-altering excitement I've mentioned before, but not nearly as extreme, you know when you love something so quickly, and so utterly, that the glee rises into your throat and you just laugh with the brilliance of it?

Two words: Frank Sinatra.

Oh, my God. Already loving the song Beyond the Sea beyond reason, I bought a Sinatra album today to listen to the rest of it, and I'm only on track 4 (Luck be a Lady), and I've fallen totally in love with his music already.

The best is yet to come, and babe, won't it be fine?

Oh, oh...! This is happening right now, at this very moment; the song Bewitched just came on, and it's the song Posner sings in The History Boys; gah...*falls even more in love*. I had no idea Frank sang it! And how Posner changes the lyrics; worshipping the trousers that cling to him. Oh, you lovely boy.

Eeeee! I can barely get the words out, I love this so much. I am undergoing a Sinatra-influenced transformation. Does that make any sense? Didn't think so. I don't care, somehow.

Oh, dear. I was meant to make a meaningful, political post, and Frank Sinatra has thrown that out of the window. The Good Life just came on. I'll be over here in the corner, bathing in his voice and the saxophones and violins, like the bobby soxer I've suddenly become. All I need is a poodle skirt, and I'm set. Honestly.

So long, sailing, bye-bye...

Ow.

Right, things I have to do.

• Find out if 19th June is free, and if it is, book train tickets to Durham.
• Find out if July 5th is free, and if I can get it off work, then book tickets to Pride London with the consent of Tara, Emma and Lucy.
• Call work experience lady and arrange interview.
• Fill in visa for Chinese trip.
• Lead a non-lethal rebellion against David Cameron...ahem. Possibly not. Maybe if I was a bit less busy.

Right, now I must go and do.

Gah.

"My entire career has been a Secret Plan to get this job. I applied before but I got knocked back cos the BBC wanted someone else. Also I was seven. Anyway, I'm glad the BBC has finally seen the light, and it's a huge honour to be following Russell into the best - and the toughest - job in television. I say "toughest" cos Russell's at my window right now, pointing and laughing."

Hurrah!

We finally have confirmation, and yay!

I may have not mentioned this before, but I mildly hero-worship The Moff; he is a fantastic writer and absolutely hilarious with it. He created Coupling, now he'll be the frontrunner for Doctor Who! Hurrah once more!

(I love Russell, no question, and will miss him, but he's chosen an excellent successor.)

Gah, I can't believe we have to wait two weeks for Silence in the Library, all for bloody Eurovision. EUROVISION. How that manages to take precedence over Doctor Who, I have no idea. Hmph.

Still, I have plenty to do in the meantime. I have an English AS exam tomorrow, which I am pretty confident about (as English is by far my best subject and I love everything we've been studying - particularly John Donne), but the exam nerves are still there, just fluttering beneath the surface. I should be OK.

Anyway, time to be off!

I've just returned from watching a production of War and Peace by the Shared Experience company, and oh my God, I will never see theatre like that again. That was the most incredible play I have seen in my life.

I didn't know War and Peace before I started watching; all I knew was that it was a massive, massive book; so huge that the play was spread over two evenings due to the length. Didn't know a thing, but I instantly got completely sucked into the world of Natasha, Pierre, Napoleon, Andre, Marie, all of them. It was epic, very stylised; actors played multiple roles and sat on pianos, lurched out of huge frames posing as open windows; there was crying and screaming and kissing and an odd yet brilliant scene between Pierre and his fiancee where they simulated sex, but not quite, as if to convey his torn feelings, his indecision, whilst Napoleon looked on and encouraged him to take the plunge.

I'm not being completely coherent here. I just...I was bowled over. I was sunk into every single second of the play; it was violent, and passionate, and dynamic, and moving, and very funny in certain parts. We'd done a workshop, our drama class, with one of the actors the day before, and he'd told us about the physicality of the play, the sheer effort that goes into it. I wasn't prepared at all; I was exhausted just watching it. God knows how tired out the actors get.

The actors were lovely, too. They came out and did a question and answer session with the audience afterwards; a tiny audience, unfortunately. I felt oddly ashamed at that; a production as epic as this, such a famous text, and only about a quarter of the theatre was filled up in the end. This is theatre, proper, serious theatre, and our town seems to be showing itself up as philistines by selling out to crap murder mysteries with characters all played by soap actors.

I have to see that production again. Somehow. And, come to think of it, read War and Peace. The characters are absolutely incredible, all of them.

I'm rambling, and have much more to say, but it's half past eleven and I have to get up for work tomorrow. More then.

Thank you, Shared Experience. That was sensational.

P.S. I had my first proper AS exam today, as well, but more on that tomorrow.

2.99 a gallon...

Oh my God!

2.99 Cent Blues, by Regina Spektor

I don't think, in my life, I've heard a song so perfect.

...well, maybe I'll look over that statement later and take it back, but for now, oh. You know when you discover a song that you cannot believe is real, it's so brilliant?

This was recorded nearly seven years ago, but I am still in awe.

*listens to it again*

Oh, bloody brilliant! My vague hope has been confirmed by the Pride London website:

We are delighted that Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London will be addressing the crowds this year. As well as that a host of speakers from all the main political parties and groups will be mixed with the best of today's entertainment.

I cannot wait to tell Lucy this; she's coming along this time, and we're both in the same Politics class, and both pretty vehmently anti-Boris. We've spent a while speculating how exactly Boris would pull off a speech to a three thousand-strong crowd of gay people giving that he's, y'know...Boris. Now that he's been confirmed as appearing, as Ken did last year and has previously done, I can't wait to see him.

I'm by no means certain that he'll screw up in any way; he's the Mayor now, and must be used to the duties that come with the job. I'm just looking forward to seeing the mop-top in person and seeing how he performs. He's got a lot to live up to; Ken was superb last year. There again, his speech was made all the more rousing by the bombs that exploded the previous day; his speech had a real kind of relevance and gravitas behind it because of that.

I wonder who the other politicians will be? I'm guessing that Brian Paddock would be an ideal choice to the organisers, but he hasn't been specifically named. Ken again, perhaps? Whoever they are, I'll be looking forward to paying attention to the political side; Harriet Harman spoke on stage last year, and she was very impressive as well. I suppose she'll wing her way over again...

Anyway, we have Boris. Barrowman hasn't been listed as appearing, which had me a little miffed, but the website claims it's still being updated on guests, and he was only a small part of the experience anyway. I would be the shallowest person in the world if I went along to the march, if I walked through the streets of London with all those people, with all that noise, all that passion, just to see some bloke off the telly. A lot of people who knew I was there thought I was only going to that reason, and it really irritated me. They were quite surprised when I told them why I was actually going...

Incidentally, a lot of people have been asking me if I'm really bisexual at the moment. With emphasis on the word "really". I don't understand; I never really came out, so to speak (a boy in my yeargroup who I've never really seen eye to eye with took it upon himself to do that for me while I was still dealing with the fact myself - lovely man), but...do people think that it's a joke? That I'm not serious? Or, worse than that, that it's just a phase? I hate that phrase with all my being; it's not a bloody phase; it exists, it's what I am, and I'm proud of what I am. Hence the Pride march. I also have people asking me very intimate questions about it, as well; how I know, and how it works, and whether I've done anything about it. I just...GRRR. I know that, statistically, only one in ten people is gay, but it's not a novelty, people, stop asking me about it! Would you go up to a straight person you didn't know very well and start bugging them relentlessly about their way of living? No? Didn't think so. Yet with a bisexual or homosexual person, nothing's wrong with a little interrogation.

Maybe I'm overreacting, but I hate the reactions I get from certain people, and how it's talked about in ever so hushed tones. Again, that's why I want to keep going to these marches; to make as much noise as I can with thousands of others. To be heard, to not keep it under wraps.

Anyway, I digress slightly.

No John Barrowman so far, but...

WE HAVE SIR IAN!!!

Seriously. Ian McKellen! I love him! He is a fantastic actor and has incredible class. He's presenting part of the music show; can't wait to see him!

The whole event sounds fantastic again, and I can't wait for July! Tara wants to come this year, as well, which will tally up to four people; me, Emma, Tara and Lucy. Actually, come to think of it, that's an interesting mix we have; me and Emma are bisexual, Lucy is gay, and Tara is straight. Well, she thinks of herself as asexual, but she does have a boyfriend, called Alex. It's complicated, I think. We had a very long discussion about it on the train after the Night of Barrowman. Anyway, we'll make a varied, and squealing, group.

Eee, I can't wait! I'm using July 5th as my looking-forward-to point during my exams and work experience. I just hope I can get the day off work. I probably should if I swap with somebody. And if July 5th is as glorious as it is at the moment, it'll be wonderful! Last year it was pissing it down ALL DAY, which was one of the reasons me and Emma didn't go and talk to Barrowman; we were both soaked to the skin and wearing unfetching raincoats. Plus, I think our hearts had stopped with surprise. Unexpected Barrowman inspires a surprisingly physical reaction, as mentioned in the Night of Barrowman.

Right, had better go. Roll on Pride London! Hurrah!

OKAY. I ADMIT IT FREELY. I think, after watching Trick or Treat, I have developed a massive crush on Derren Brown. I've suspected it for a while now, actually.

Is that weird?

I can't help it. I know he makes a living out of influencing people's minds and performing strange experiments, but he's incredibly calm and clever and sarky while he does it. Plus, y'know, gorgeous.

Hmm. I would give anything to meet him and see him in action. I find Trick or Treat fascinating and faintly terrifying - the impact on the people involved must be huge.

(I get the feeling I would fall very easily for one of his tricks; every time I watch his programme I look out for clues that he leaves early on, but I always miss a couple, and I know that it must be completely different when you're actually caught up in the moment.

David Tennant is due for a Trick/Treat soon. Christ, both of them on screen at the same time; that'll make my Friday!

Come on, Mr Brown...surely there must be some kind of experiment you could play on a group of teenagers? (I have friends who are dying to see him live and prove he's not faking it. You can never know until you see it, after all.)

(And I say the word experiment in an innocent, Derren Brown-style way, obviously.)

Oh, Christ. I just read a bunch of entries spanning from late 2005 to mid-2006. I'm sorry. I am so sorry, for inflicting all that rubbish on you.

*is ashamed*

I'm torn between the trivial and the important.

Hmm.

Oh, hell. DOCTOR WHO!

Criticisms first:

• Was I the only one who missed half of the dialogue? Music and rapid-talking and under-enunciation seemed rife this episode.
• Donna seemed a lot less consequential this time round, and a lot less strong which, although it was because she was near her family, became rather grating after a while.
• Her mother annoys the living hell out of me - Jackie was motherly badgering, but she pulled it off as natural and endearing; Donna's mum seems to contain virtually no redeeming features so far.
• Slightly dodgy acting from Rattigan, although he managed to keep the accent in place.
• Heavy on the melodrama; the waxing and waning fumes, the news alerts, the countdown-unexpectedly-reversed-at-the-last-mintue; it tended to get very samey after a while.
• Sontarans = unimpressive. In my view, anyway; the kiddies probably loved them.

This was very much a reference episode; we already had the Sontarans, and it was lovely to hear word of the Brig, and a brief mention of Captain Jack, and The Empty Child!

Oh. And, when Rose appeared, I may or may not have leapt about a foot in the air. Metaphorically, at least. I'm seriously looking forward to seeing how this arc is going to play out; the subtle smatterings of Rose so far seem less obvious that the arcs we've had in the last two series, and I'm twitching to see how it all fits together. Soon!

Overall, I liked it; it was nice to see an explanation for why the Sontarans didn't just nuke Earth and run away cackling, the moments between Martha and her clone managed to mix bizarre and touching and somehow make it work, and the Doctor was his usual, technobabbling, hair-ruffly self. I loved his attitudes to both Donna and Martha; both very different, but respectful towards both of them when it came to their actions within the episode. And, in turn, their reactions to him; when Donna thwacked him on the arm before sitting by him and Martha, it just worked, without needing words.

Next week's looks...deeply, deeply strange. Russell T Davies has said that this one is likely to cause fan revolt, which just makes me want to see it more; there is nothing funnier than watching Who fans rant, frankly. I mean, I love the show as much as the first person, but I don't take it seriously enough to get enraged when events don't turn my way. It's a children's show, for God's sake; if the target audience is just enjoying it for what it is, why can't the fans? I feel the same about obsessive Harry Potter fans. There again, I tend to avoid them more often than not; they can get scary sometimes.

So, to sum up, roll on next week. And the week after, and the weeks after, until we reach the epic multi-character fest, which must be deeply risky for everyone involved. I cannot wait. If Ianto and Gwen get a look in, my neighbours have to acquire some earplugs. Bweeee!

Anyway, I mentioned the trivial and the important; the important being, of course, the recent election. I'm hesistant to get too politically passionate in here, really. I wrote last night's post in a slightly angry state of mind, which I still am when I think of Boris Johnson; but I really can't politically rant when I, in no way, am astute in recent matters as I make myself out to be. I have been following the election, and my politics classes have helped me take a further grasp on my political stance within the options we have, but I'd never confess to knowing everything, and assuming my view is the most prominent.

I'll be honest, I'm still not entirely sure where I stand. All I know is, I am not Conservative. Yet, for all my scepticism of the media and efforts not to be influenced, I still seem to take notice of the individual rather than the party in question; yesterday I had an extensive debate with a guy called John in my yeargroup, in the Common Room just before last period; when it was happening, I thought we were arguing Liberalism vs. Conservatism. It was only afterwards that I realised we'd only covered David Cameron, who is only a tiny part of the whole establishment.

My honest opinion; I don't like him. I think that he is intelligent, but that he lacks substance and embodies the archetypical traits of the leading politician to the extreme; point-scoring, Punch and Judy politics, and advocating his party as not a good party, but always better than Labour. Everything he says seems to have an underlying thread of bitterness, and when he makes speeches, he doesn't say anything. He makes bold statements that aren't fully explored. I know that's a common trait, I do that, but I am not running a major political party and attempting to get the chance to run the country. Long story short; he irks me more than Gordon Brown does, and I can't help but feel that the Conservative majority this time around is indicative of events still to come. Even if it is due to disillusionment with Labour, and Gordon Brown, support appears to be growing. Which, in my book, isn't good, but my book isn't the Bible.

I know a lot. I know a lot more about politics than I used to. But I don't know enough, yet. I'm not entirely sure what point I'm trying to make here. Basically that I'm going to full-on rant and rave until I know the full ins and outs.

(I say that, but I did just get het up about Cameron, didn't I?)

RIGHT. Sorry for those random trains of thought. I was going to talk about Martin Horwood's visit to my school, but my coherency levels are lacking tonight, I'm not sure why. Exhaustion, possibly. I'm off on study leave on Friday; it won't be a moment too soon. Still, at least I have Monday off.

Talk more soon.

And, before I forget to ask...what do you think?

Oh, God.

I was half-expecting it, but it doesn't make it any less comforting.

It's been a very politically-orientated day, actually; I managed to question an MP who was visiting our school, and me and my friends have been following the council elections all day. I just had to check who ultimately won London before I went to sleep.

I'll say more tomorrow, hopefully (my brain has been buzzing with views on this all day), but for now, my main reaction seems to be summed up thusly; nearly a year ago I went to Pride London and saw Ken Livingstone step up on stage and do a fantastically confident, moving, rousing speech to the crowd, clearly written at the last minute due to bombs having gone off in London the day before the march. Rhetoric or not, it was definitely impressive.

Can we really see Boris doing that? Or acting like anything other than a fool?

I'm disappointed, in short.

Evidently London feels differently.