ARGHSOBUSYSOBUSYARGHARGH.

Hence the lack of posting about Doctor Who. But this was my reaction, verbatim, typed up a little later:


TEN POINTS OF CAPSLOCKY SQUEE.

POINT THE FIRST - Agnfhgkshfdgjv; Jack losing contact with Martha made me all go all wibbly. Just the desperation of it.

POINT THE SECOND - WILF WITH A PAINT GUN. I LOVE YOU, SIR!

POINT THE THIRD: GWEN! IANTO! Need I say more?!

POINT THE FOURTH: Okay, clearly I can. Rhys mention! Loss of dignity! The coat! Met a soldier in a bar! GOING DOWN FIGHTING LIKE OWEN AND TOSH. MA'AM. HE CALLED GWEN MA'AM. EEEEEEEEEEE!

POINT THE FIFTH: Oh Sweet Lord, it all links together. Russell, you clever bastard; that was brilliant. The bees, the lost Moon! *is in awe*

POINT THE SIXTH: THE DOCTOR SPOKE JUDOON. That may be the cutest thing I have EVER SEEN.

POINT THE SEVENTH: Jack fancies Sarah Jane! Gwen fancies the Doctor! Donna fancies Jack! Ianto...what the hell did Ianto say? I can't work it out, no matter how many times I watch it.

POINT THE EIGHTH: DAMN ME FOR SEEING SPOILERS; I knew that the Doctor was going to be shot before he reached Rose. Grr. Am currently facepalming at how I ruined the surprise for myself.

POINT THE NINTH: DALEK CAAN. That was SO creepy.

POINT THE EVERLOVING TENTH: WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON NOW? WHAT? HOW? WHAT THE...WHAT???

CAPSLOCK UNTO INFINITY.

...actually, I am slightly calmer than I am usually; mainly because I've had time to collect myself but oh my LORD, that was epic. EPIC, I TELL YOU.

But, okay. I have a confession. Everyone seems to love this bit, and I absolutely hated it. I rarely hate things in Doctor Who to the level that others do, but this I hated, even if it was a small part; that Ianto-O'Grady thing. What? That was...*what*? Completely out-of-character, and just urgh. I feel horrible for saying so, I really do, because I hardly ever spout vitriol about Who and Torchwood, but I winced when that bit came on and it did dampen my squee for a while afterwards. Just the...yuck. I hated it, basically, even if it lasted about two seconds. I'm awful. Sorry. I may have to skip over that when I watch again.

There wasn't even a trailer! Gah, nothing! And Jack left Ianto and Gwen hanging in the loop, poor things!

(Yet again, their brave faces and silent stoicism gave me a lump in my throat. Ianto's little smile...oh, they've been separated from Jack far too often.)

*squeak*

Eeeeeeeeeeeee!

Anyway, must go and get provisions.

GAH. CANNOT POSSIBLY WAIT UNTIL NEXT WEEK. AND I WON'T EVEN SEE IT UNTIL THE SUNDAY EVENING, AS I'M AT PRIDE LONDON.

*skips off*


So, um...that. It was good. Except for the part which I will never mention again.

Talk soon!

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.

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.

Ahem.

I may have just yelled, "CONTACT ME, YOU BLOODY WASTE OF AIR!" at my laptop screen.

Oh dear. This woman is making me lose it. But, come on! My work experience is in question, here; I've e-mailed her and phoned her multiple times and SHE WILL NOT REPLY! Even school's had trouble contacting her.

GAGH.

Sorry.

Re: My previous post.

I may or may not have used a stream of swearwords, pounded the laptop in frustration, then started crying.

Fuck it; what the hell is University going to be like if I can't cope with this?

Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks. I have a large Pride and Prejudice essay to finish, a house to comb for Drama props, countless other things to prepare for, and that pesky internet is luring me in with its countless gems of wonder.

As is John Barrowman's autobiography, which I bought earlier today.

God. I should have a stronger will than this. Why on earth did Torchwood have to start in the midst of a schoolwork pile-up? I feel like my head's about to explode.

I keep saying to myself that if I manage to meet him in April, I'll chide him for exacerbating my procrastination. But that's shite, really, because I'll just end up stammering and may accidentally hug him without saying anything.

MUST GET BACK TO IT.

(Also, the "z" key on my keyboard isn't working particularly well. I AM DOING A PRIDE AND PREJUDICE ESSAY. This does not bode well.)

So. I've been working for WHSmith for about five weeks now, four and a half hours every Saturday, with a fairly large sprinkling of extra hours in between. By rights I should have earned over a hundred pounds by now. Checked my bank account today; turns out I've been paid for three weeks of work.

...yes, that is the sound of me seething. How did you tell?

Oh, GOD. I mean, admittedly, there was a tiny mix-up with the pay, as they told me, because they somehow didn't know which hours I had worked, despite the fact that THEY asked me to work them. Nonetheless, I went and recorded them in the appropriate place, and they said I would be paid on Friday. Naturally, I assumed I'd be paid for all the hours I'd worked, including the regular ones for five weeks. Evidently I was a little too hopeful on that account.

Fuck. FUCK. I made a tiny mistake; why the hell has this happened?

Shit. I'll have to go into work tomorrow and sort all this out. Methinks they won't think too kindly of me talking to them again. But...I haven't been paid, for God's sake!

Once again, fuck. Angry.

...and, as it turns out, my Dad probably is too. Just got off the phone with my Mum; turns out the Meatloaf concert they were due to go to in Birmingham is cancelled. I am NOT looking forward to seeing how disappointed he'll be when he gets home.

Also, did I mention that school is attempting to steal my soul?

Even this can't cheer me up.

Well...maybe just a tad.

What was a simple plan to go and see a friend at half term is quickly turning into some kind of nightmare. The only route I can find from Cheltenham to Pokesdown by train, I have to change twice at Bristol Temple Meads and Southampton.

And bearing in mind I haven't really travelled alone by train before, that doesn't settle the nerves.

Crap. Why didn't I do this when I was younger?

GAGH.

That is all.