Oh dear. I think I have Gareth David-Lloyd on the brain.

As I may have mentioned, this year in English we're studying The Wife of Bath from The Canterbury Tales. We haven't really started yet; we're doing some background work on the events of the time, like the Black Death, and John Wyclif and his contribution to the Reformation, etc. Today, though, Ms Reid gave us copies of the prologue to the tales. I've flicked through, and...what?

No, seriously. WHAT?

I knew how it was written, but dear Lord, I thought that I'd have SOME clue of the meaning, just by looking at it. It looks like a bizarre mixture of English, French, and Swedish, and I can't fathom it out at all. And I thought Pride and Prejudice was difficult; this is going to stretch my brain somewhat. Can't wait until we start studying it properly.

Joe's off to Glastonbury tomorrow. He will be where Amy Winehouse is, whilst I won't be. I've never been more jealous of him in my life.

Still soldiering on through War and Peace; I'm on page 403 now, but I'm saving it for the eleven hour plane journey to China next month. I figured it will eat up a large chunk of time. I love it; seeing the play was fantastic, so it's incredibly interesting to see the proper backstory to all the characters I fell in love with, as well as others who weren't included on the stage. Still, certain parts feel a little off; possibly the translation. Nevertheless, I like it.

Also, I have fallen head over heels in love with Billie Holiday, and have been listening to Blue Moon and God Bless the Child for several days. GAGH. How did I not listen to her before now? She is sensational, and I can understand the influence she had on Amy Winehouse; both on the music, and the reckless pattern of her life.

Mama may have, Papa may have, but God bless the child who's got his own...

Pride London soon! Still not fully arranged, but significant movements have been made and it should be finalised within the next few days. Mr Barrowman is in Canada at the moment, so he will be absent, but I really don't care. Just to be part of it, to be members of that crowd; it'll be sensational. Better dig out my Pride whistle!

Right.

Is it time for Doctor Who yet?

It's only Tuesday? Really? Damn it.

*retreats back into cave and waits*

Doctor Who - Turn Left

Okay. I wrote the following immediately after I'd watched it.

HOLY JUMPING TINKERBELL JESUS.

PREPARE FOR CAPSLOCK AND INCOHERENCY. DEAR LORD. FUCK ME SIDEWAYS. OH YEAH, AND SWEARING.

ROSE.

BROKEN, STRONG, BRILLIANT DONNA.

THE LABOUR CAMPS.

BAD WOLF.

...okay, I've got to stop that before I annoy anyone who may wing their way over here. But JESUSHELL. That was epic and brilliant and moving and absolutely terrifying. Catherine Tate is amazing beyond words.

Oh GOD, I can't believe I never thought about that; the consequences of one lost action by the Doctor. He dies, the whole Earth slowly destroys itself. And it was so real; when the family were being taken away in the van I was holding my breath, and just burst into tears as soon as Gramps did. Oh, God. Rusty, the things you do to us. Ow.

(I'm really not sounding my cleverest. My veins are currently alive with squee, I'm telling you. My arms are tingling. God, I'm sad.)

Anyway...

As SOON as Rose said a little team were up on the ship, I instantly thought Torchwood, and lo and behold, YES! SHE SAID THEIR NAMES. SHE MENTIONED GWEN AND IANTO. I had to pause, I was so surprised and flaily. And Jack! Oh God, poor Jack, stuck up on the planet alone, again.

AND ALIGUYJGHKSDP; BAD WOLF. I KNEW IT WAS COMING A SPLIT SECOND BEFORE IT DID, AND THEN...

So, whew.

And so we come to the trailer of wonderment and joy that will render this post a capitalised, brain-dead with excitement, slightly hysterical squee-fest. Prepare yourselves, people.


HOLY MOTHER OF ALL THINGS COVERED IN CHOCOLATE.

JACK! IANTO! GWEN! IANTO IN A WAISTCOAT! CUDDLING IN THE CORNER! GWEN AND IANTO WITH BLOODY MACHINEGUNS!

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

AND SARAH JANE. AND HARRIET JONES! AND ROSE, AND MARTHA!

...I'd been looking forward to this trailer all day, but my speculations didn't even come CLOSE to what we got there. GAGH. HOW ARE WE MEANT TO WAIT UNTIL NEXT WEEK?

I am so very, very, very hyper right now.

I will be more coherent in time, I promise. Right now I'm off to guage other people's reactions, as I saw this episode late and haven't seen what people have thought yet.

*dashes off*




...so yeah, that was my reaction. Jesus, I am actually insane and far too obsessed. But, come on!

The wait for next week is going to be interminable. Also, just noticed, the BBC's Youtube account has BAD WOLF BAD WOLF BAD WOLF written on its user description space. Ha!

Okay, got to go and try and calm down.

As I'm going back to school tomorrow, for the first time in what feels like ages, I decided to have a massive clearout of the school-y section of my storage space in my bedroom, as it was getting to the point where there was such a huge pile-up of both junk and important things, that I couldn't locate the latter when I needed it. I've finally found that copy of Antigone that I thought I'd lost. Anyway, there's currently a massive black bag filled with out-of-date forms, practise exam papers, and books from GCSE year, of all things.

I realised several things amidst my massive tidy:

• Like my Dad, my nostalgia gets in the way too much. I retain schoolbooks that are fairly useless to me now (such as History exercise books on Russia and Nazi Germany, from last year), because I did so much work that I can't bear to get rid of them. Plus, I keep convincing myself that they'll be useful. All the junk in this bedroom that is completely useless fits that description, and those reasons. Our attic is the same. We've lived in this house for sixteen years, and our entire life history is stored up in the roof; old LPs, books from when Joe and I were kids, ancient computers, boxes of Christmas decorations, etc, etc. Mum has been nagging Dad to clear it out for years, but he never has. I think me and my Dad are one of the same when it comes to clearouts. We're useless at them.

• I have done so much work over the past three years at school and, without meaning to boast, I am SO proud of myself. Especially this year; I started studying Politics without any real knowledge of what it would entail, and now I have a year's worth of work stuffed into an overflowing folder; work that I never would have understood a year ago, and work that I'm so proud that I did. Similarly with English; I had to delve into the strata of poems and books and notes that have accumalated over the past couple of years, and I love what I've done. From Keats to Donne, from Death of a Salesman to Paradise Lost, it's all been brilliant. Chaucer and Measure for Measure now. I can't wait!

• Oh my God, Oh my God, OH MY GOD, this room is an appalling mess. To the naked eye, it looks fine; could do with a hoover and some heavy-duty dusting, but it seems fine. Delve underneath the service and everything turns to crap. I'm going to need a bulldozer to rid myself of some of this. I started tidying my school stuff, and it brought to light how desperately the rest of it needs a clean. I need a long-haul tidying session. I may have to dedicate next weekend to cleaning. (Having said that, you should have seen Tara's room when I was last round there. And my brother's room. I'm almost tempted to take a picture of it; ever since he came back from University, it's been like Dresden in there. Urgh. It's smaller than mine, and has a little less storage space, but still.)

I need to hoover, and dust, and spray, and clear everything OUT. Preferably when everyone else is out of the house.

I'll stick to the school-refuse for now. But I'll kick some bedroom arse next week. Or possibly over various nights this week, if I don't have too much homework.

Rosby out, with a massive black bag of bad Science lesson memories, and terrible handwriting, dancing to the Glenn Miller CD that's playing in the background.

P.S. Also, an entire shelf is dedicated to University prospectuses. There are dozens of them. HELP ME. PANIC.

Less of a review, more of a mad expulsion of WORDS. Oh, and SPOILERS. LOTS OF THEM.

AJSHDGJHSKJH;;; DOCTOR WHO OH MY GOD.

That was absolutely terrifying, and claustrophobic, and weird, and OH DEAR LORD THERE WAS ROSE ON THE SCREEN AGAIN.

ROSETYLERMARTHAJONESDONNANOBLETARDIS.

Oh, sweet Lord. I haven't checked any reactions yet (as I've only just watched it), but if anyone complains (as I'm sure they will), about the lack of action, or coherent threat, then I won't care; that was superb. Showing the ugly side of human nature, and just by using something like repetition, it becomes twenty times as chilling.

And Jesus Christ the Doctor, when he was repeating; painful, tears in his eyes, unmoving. Christ, Tennant, you magnificent bastard. When the Doctor warned Donna "Don't." at the very end, I got chills down to my toes.

*shudder*

And Lesley Sharp! Oh, I can see why Russell likes her so much. She was magnificent all the way through.

Dear Lord, that episode gave me an almost visceral reaction; I was on the edge all the time and gasped at everything; when Rose appeared, when she began to speak at the same time, when she overtook him, and....ohhh.

So, all in all, brilliant and wonderful. I loved it. I'm still jittery; that was terrifying.

Oh yes, and...

FUCKING HELL, THAT TRAILER. OH DEAR LORD. THE DOCTOR'S DEAD? ROSE? HERE ALREADY? SOMETHING ON THE BACK? UNIT MEN? SHE'S GONNA DIE?

What the hell is going on? And, more importantly, how the hell are we meant to wait until next week?!

*flails around like a mad thing*

Right, right. Okay. Possibly coherent, intelligent-sounding review coming later. For now I'm going to flail in my corner about that episode, the trailer, and all that's still to come OH MY GOD YAY.

Three quick trailer-points:

- When the hand came out of the stretcher, for one insane moment, I thought it was Ianto. A thought which makes no sense, but evidently I've been enticed by the suits.

- Speaking of Ianto, I was shamelessly looking out for him; I still have no idea if that rumour that Gwen and Ianto appear is true or not, so I'm scanning everything like the Welsh-totty-obsessed thing that I am.

- Donna was wearing a long, grey coat at some point in that trailer, with the sleeves too long for her arms. Jack's coat? Possibly?

Right.

*attempts to calm down*

*fails*

Eeeeeeeeee!

Oh, God.

The 2008 Gloucestershire Cheese Rolling is a featured video on youtube today; consisting of reckless, stupid people dashing down a hill, breaking their legs and ankles chasing a bloody cheese. A couple of years ago somebody broke their neck, apparently. Or did some serious damage to it, anyway.

I've lived in this county my whole life, but I still find this tradition the stupidest, most idiotic thing around. Call me a kill-joy, but that's what I think.

As a representative of Gloucestershire, I'd just like to put it out there that we're not all that thick and desperate for attention.

(Also, incidentally, the village in Hot Fuzz is portrayed at being in Gloucestershire. And Cheltenham Ladies College is filled with "pretentious shits" according to St Trinians. AND, whenever Gloucestershire seems to be mentioned on television, by comedians, there are always references to stupid farmers and West-Country idiots. Again, kill-joy, but I didn't realise quite how we were regarded. Still, I suppose there are sterotypes for cities across the country. But, frankly, videos of idiots chasing bloody cheese doesn't help the image.)

Review of Doctor Who coming up. Bit too pissed off to write it now.

The exams are over! Hurrah! Huzzah!

The sense of finality is much smaller than last year, if there at all, as I had to do a quarter of the amount of exams, and I'm going back to school to start A2 courses in a couple of weeks. Still, no more revision, no more tests, and lots to look forward to in the coming months. Yay!

Overall, I think they went relatively well; English and Drama were excellent, Politics wasn't too bad, although I did fall down on certain areas, and I'm slightly worried about German because it was a lot harder than I thought it would be. Particularly the oral; I went in very prepared and filled with useful phrases, then got too nervous and fluffed the whole thing by stammering and running out of things to say, and generally being a bit rubbish. People kept telling me that it probably went better than I thought it would, and I hope they're right, but at the moment I'm not feeling overly-confident about it. I don't want to retake anything, really, but I may feel the need to if I under-perform. I don't know. I'll know in August.

Anyway, it was the loveliest feeling in the world waking up today; I don't have to go back to school until the week after next (as next week is devoted to work experience), so I have three and a half days all to myself, which very neatly coincide with suddenly hot weather, and the Cheltenham Science Festival, which is already in full swing. Having said that, I was extremely miffed that I missed Richard Dawkins; I'd somehow convinced myself he was here today rather than yesterday. Damn. I loved The God Delusion. Still, I had a mosey around the Town Hall for a while looking at all the exhibits, and I've booked to see Mark Watson on Saturday; hurrah! I love him; he's not very well-known, but he's completely hilarious, and is doing a one-off show about his carbon footprint.

Also, keeping to my word, I went out a bought a shiny new copy of War and Peace! Having seen it done so brilliantly on stage (and written about the play in my Drama exam), I wanted to read the book and find out more about the characters. It's going to be tough going; this copy spans over 1358 pages, and I'm on page 37 at the moment. Still, I love it already, and it's going to be slightly easier knowing who the characters are, and the events that happen. I've just read the part when Pierre sees Dolokhov balance precariously on a window; drinking rum and everyone around him praying that he won't fall, and it's just as tense and atmospheric as it was in the play. Wonderful.

My next task is to organise Pride London, which is going to be slightly difficult, but not impossible. I'll be damned if I'm not going. In a slightly sadistic way, I'm looking forward to seeing how Boris is received, as he didn't seem to be too popular in London drinking circles fairly recently.

Speaking of which; urgh. The Daily Show did a segment on the Tube drunkards recently, and I felt so embarassed; I actually agreed with Boris on this one, and the fact that so many people humiliated themselves and caused such a mess and behaved so stupidly, just proves what alcohol can do. I mean, yes, it's good to stick it to politicians; I've done it before, on protest marches in Cheltenham, but you'll get precisely nowhere and get yourselves extremely bad press by acting like that.

There again, this comes from a non-Londoner and a non-drinker, so God knows where I stand. I just wince when I see footage of it, and I have the urge to explain to The Daily Show audience; "We're not all like that! We're not!"

Right, had better go. Farewell! Enjoy the sun, if you've got it.

P.S. Torchwood is a week-long affair next year, apparently; and as soon as I'd do anything finishes, the entire media is taken over by stupid, sodding Big Brother again. I think Doctor Who is a saving grace at the moment.

Oh, hell.

I think I'll have to review Silence in the Library after the next episode; I'm insanely busy and there's always something that urgently needs doing before I can sit down and get it all out. Sorry. But, needless to say, it was excellent and has left me buzzing with hundreds of questions already. Who is River Song/Doctor Moon/the child? What happened to Donna? Why is she saved? What's CAL? Who will be ghosting next?

Also, although I wasn't scared of the dark after this one, the phrase Who turned off the lights? has been bugging me all day. Scary...*shudder*

SO MUCH GOING ON. Is this what it is to be an adult; constantly arranging things and having people never reply to you? God, it's driving me mad. Also, I have one more exam left that I haven't done nearly enough revision for, and that would be tomorrow. Here I am blogging when I have an exam tomorrow.

Fuck. Fuuuuck.

I really need to go.