According to new info, Torchwood appears to be starting on Monday July 6th.

I think, anyway.

I'm thinking of relocating to a new blog; I've almost definitely outgrown this one. I won't delete it completely (for the purposes of nostalgia, if nothing else), but I think it's time to move on from something that was very definitely characterised by my early teenage years rather than the strange, transitional period that I feel like I'm in now. I'm an adult, officially, but God knows when I'll feel like one.

I'll try and sort it out. I think it's time to change.

Um, hi.

So, it turns out that I never did report on John.

However, I have seen the first episode of Torchwood, series three.

How do I even BEGIN to describe one of the most amazing days of my life?

WELL.

(Feel free to skip through this - it's EPICALLY long and really quite strange in parts.)

I spent all day in London; got up at a ridiculous hour of the morning to catch the bus in. I love taking the bus, because I've taken the M4 route up there so many times (me and Mum used to travel up there when I was younger), that I recognise everything out of the windows when we're approaching London; Windsor Castle to the right, the blue-roofed mosque to the left, and the beautiful statue of the boy and the dolphin near Earl's Court. Sadly, the Earl's Court TARDIS seems to have vanished, and I never found out what it actually was! Shame. Maybe it'll turn up in Cardiff one day.

Anyway, the tube was a bit of a disaster; I knew which way I was going and got there without a hitch, but I'd forgotten how horrible the underground really is; loud and hot and claustrophobic and, well. Underground. No natural light; I'd hate to do it too often.

First destination was the National Film Theatre, where the episode was being aired, and I've just realised that I have no photos, which is deeply irritating because that place is plush! When my Dad was a BFI member it was a grotty old place; it's incredibly fancy in there now; shiny floors and carpets and an incredible bar inside with sofas dotted around. The outside is brilliant, as well; there are huge chairs made out of fake grass, and a multitude of shops. It's lovely and I'd love to go again.

The second destination? Well.



I had to! I was in London; how could I not? I managed to miss it the first time, actually; I found the right road and went halfway up before looking back at the roofs of the houses and realising I'd walked straight past. I found it and had what's known as a geekgasm. Because it's the house from Spaced!

Photos taken with permission from the girl who answered the door; she said I was very sweet for asking, because apparently no one ever does before they start snapping photos of the house from the outside.



I really wanted to sit on the wall (a la Daisy and Tim; God, I'm sad), but there was a little too much shrubbery in the way.



Seeing 23 reminded me of something brilliant Simon Pegg said in the DVD commentary for Spaced; "We told interviewers that the house number was 23 because we wanted the house to be in its 20s too, in tandem with the characters, but in reality it was just bollocks!"



*flail*

It's the front door! Where Brian answers to the agents! And Daisy and Tim get stuck outside in the freezing cold and nearly kiss! And...okay. I love this show; could you tell? This was my warm-up squee for later...

After bidding a fond farewell to the house, I meandered around Central London for the rest of the day; going from Trafalgar Square up to Westminster and to Buckingham Palace (getting increasingly more morose at the utter closed-off nature of Parliamentary buildings and the ridiculously ornate nature of Buckingham Palace. I'm not getting into my political beliefs now, but it was a little irritating seeing it.) I parked myself on the monument rather than looking at the Palace, and wrote for about an hour and a half (having to stop several times to take pictures of tourists, bless them, and send Twitter innuendos to Lucy, who was on the train up.)

Too hot, and with a thumping headache and Diet Coke on my shirt (my doing entirely, that last one), I headed back to Victoria, from there to Waterloo, and met Lucy for the first time.

I'll admit, I was a little nervous; I'm not always great with people I don't know that well, and I was a bit twitchy, but there was no need; at the risk of stroking her ego, she is lovely. Really easy to talk to, and she made me laugh a lot; and she has the Harwood's theme as her ring tone! Woman of taste, that one. We bonded over pain relief, oddly enough, and soon enough Tara was with us; hat firmly in place and talking about how, since she hadn't eaten, was going to snack on a tin of custard during the episode. I am not making that up; she had a tin, complete with opener. That's my girl.

Tara and Lucy got on straight away, which I was hugely relieved at; I hate introducing people to other people! I have a very irrational fear of awkwardness, so I'm glad that was averted. And here is a picture of the lovely ladies at the BFI:



It was at this point, that the squee started.

You know (or maybe don't, which indicates that you're far more rational than me) the kind if you're a fangirl and there's something so brilliant, so exciting, so imminent approaching, that it affects you physically? Your stomach won't stop tickling, you can barely sit still, every other step you take goes a little off because there's this continual realisation that you're on your way to something amazing. My hands were shaking; I was that bad, and I kept making tiny little squeaking noises. I know I'm obsessed, I do; but it was the most incredible feeling; adrenaline and anticipation and happiness all rolled into one. I'd never take drugs, but if I did, I imagine they'd have a similar effect.

Tara was used to it. She's seen it many times before. I'm not entirely sure what Lucy thought, though.

In we went; me squeeing all the way (not that loudly, but still fairly prominently); we met a couple of guys with Bring back Owen and Bring back Tosh T-shirts on, which I absolutely loved, and we got chatting as we went in; the ushers gave us our promo postcard (which I think I may have made an embarrassing noise at), and then we settled down to stew in our own excitement, in seats quite insanely close to the front. It was incredible.

Eventually, the stage door opened and, in my own words, "Oh my God. It's John's Mum. And Dad. And sister." Then, about two minutes later, in comes John Barrowman himself; in grey and pink, looking absolutely wonderful, as always; hobbling on two crutches with a massive cast on his leg. It was lovely to see him up and about.

He was followed by Caitlin Moran and Euros Lyn (I think), and then James Moran (which made me grin like a mad thing, because I'd been hoping to meet him - more on that later) and I was just trying to work out where Gareth might be, when I saw Eve.

Oh, God. I love her. I really do. She is absolutely beautiful in person, and in a wonderfully natural way; she's incredibly freckly, and has one of the most contagious smiles I've ever seen. She, John, John's parents, Russell T Davies (who I now realise really is massive; last time I saw him at Cheltenham he was on a high stage, so I couldn't really tell), Euros, Caitlin and a couple of others all sat in the empty rows in the middle; a stone's throw away from us. I couldn't settle down; it was crazy, suddenly. We were watching Torchwood...with Torchwood! With the brains behind it, and the faces of it! I thought it was brilliant how informal the whole event was; they were suddenly with us for the experience, rather than being the distant stars. I loved it.

A figure within the BFI (Marcus something - I feel terrible that I've forgotten his name; I still giggled at John heckling him as soon as he'd started speaking, though!) introduced the guests and told us to "awww" that Gareth David-Lloyd wouldn't be there. I was a little miffed at first, but frankly, by the end of the evening, I'd had so much fun that I really didn't mind. I suspect, due to something someone said the night before, that he might have had some kind of lurgy from the Torchsong convention, but I'm not sure.

I spent the entire episode clutching Tara's hand in mine like a mad thing, and I think John and/or Eve may have noticed at some point, although I'm not sure. I either looked completely insane and twitchy (which I was), or we looked like a lesbian couple. Or both. Not that it mattered; her arm was just a good squee outlet!

As for the episode itself.

Fantastic! Absolutely, positively brilliant; when I'd first heard about the five-episode format I'd been irritated, but I can see now that it's going to work brilliantly, because you're constantly on the edge. Everything you watch is working towards something; ironically for a thriller, it seems, there's less rushing than in a normal episode to get to the climax. Things are left to unfold and characters and their traits can be explored without a set time limit on how long they have to express themselves, if that makes any sense.

The audience loved it; it was an incredible experience watching it with like-minded people, and I'll really miss watching the rest of series three without them!

Parts, character-wise, worthy of mention (to any blogspotters reading, this may not make much sense due to the assumption that most livejournalers already knew what happened in the episode through other peope):

- Rhys isn't in this episode much, but his first appearance is gold. It had the entire audience, including Eve and John, in hysterics.

- Jack and Ianto's dynamic has been really put in the foreground, and it works brilliantly; the banter snaps between them, and while they're closer than before and, in the words of Ianto and several others, "couple-y", there's an underlying thread of tension and uncertainty, and I can't wait to see how it continues. I'm starting to love this format; there's always more!

- Gwen is superb, here; whilst she was a little over-exposed in series one, the writing of her has improved considerably and she's kept her best qualities for this series; camaraderie, sympathy, wit. She's lovely, and she and Jack and Ianto function as a team incredibly well.

- I thought I wouldn't be able to watch Frobisher without thinking of Malcolm Tucker (they've even got the same accent - it was a little jarring hearing it at first), but Peter Capaldi was brilliant; apprehensive but resolute. In a way, actually, he was similar to Tucker; his actions are reprehensible, but you can't bring yourself to loathe him because he's pressured, he has to do what's necessary for his own survival. Obviously, he and Tucker handle crises different. And Tucker does the swearing for both of them.

- Rhiannon. Johnny. I LOVE THEM! I have a soft spot for Katy Wix from Not Going Out, and she is instantly likeable here, and the typical big sister; cutting and teasing and questioning, but listening to what he has to stay, and chastising him for staying away from them. Johnny is just hilarious; Lucy fell in love with him straight away. When he yelled "All right, gayboy!" I think the entire theatre just died with laughter; can't wait to see it on an icon!

- Ianto's explanation to Rhiannon about his relationship with Jack was one of my favourite parts of the episode; whilst what's between them has been amped up this series, it seems, Ianto's way of telling it was beautifully understated and hesistant; acknowledgement of something, but not something he can explain. (Of course, the moment was ruined/bested by Johnny marching in then explaining the SUV had been nicked.)

- I gave Tara's hand a squeeze and a half when Clem said, "You're pregnant!" out of the blue. Of course, I knew it could happen, but never suspected episode one! Obviously...YAY! Her reaction was spot-on; absolutely bewildered and stunned, and then that smile appears. It's wonderful. I'm still giggling at Jack's, "Ianto! We're having a baby!"

- Rupesh! How could I forget him? Lucy fell in love with him within minutes, and was shipping him and Gwen in even more minutes! The heel-face turn of Rupesh was incredible; nobody suspected it and it threw us all for a loop. I'm not sure who mentioned it, but I agree with whoever said that he was the Suzie Costello of series three. He was wonderful, though (despite his later...activities); so sincere and curious about what was going on behind closed doors; like Gwen at the beginning (as she herself notices).

- I think my heart melted when Ianto hugged Jack after he said he'd died. It was such a random and simple gesture, but so full of heart. I hope we see more of those.

- Just like Ianto with Rhiannon, Jack is incredibly cautious whilst around his daughter. Someone referred to it as "walking on eggshells", and she's right; he seems able to talk to her, but he can't quite penetrate the wall that she's built up around her and her son to prevent him from getting too close. She's like him, in a way; she knows the pain and the discomfort and, frankly, the weirdness that surrounds him, so she keeps her distance to prevent both him and her from suffering, and Jack's been seen as that, particularly around series one; he remains distant and secretive, because if he comes too close to someone it'll be worse for the both of them when the inevitable happens.

Having said that, he is adorable with Stephen!

- Ack, the kiss was too fast! I drank it in but it happened to quickly to even react properly; I can't actually remember what the audience response to it was. But, nevertheless, it shows how Jack feels; even through disaster, he's there for reassurance, for closeness.

- BOOM BADA BOOM goes the Hub, and I can't believe I have to wait another month before I can see episode two. And on my own, next time!

Oh, it was so good. I can guarantee that everyone will love it.

My favourite bits of the Q & A:

- Rusty trying to convince Eve to name her baby "Quincy", and her response of, "I'm not naming this child Quincy T Davies! Maybe the next one, though."

- When asked what it was like dealing with children, the mostly-quiet Euros Lyn piped up, "Electric cattle prods usually do the trick."

- John talking about the accident; how he slipped on the empty pool (Rusty chiming in, "It's a hard life, isn't it?"), and his impression of his mother kicking him to get up. "Go and get me...drink!"

- Caitlin Moran's question to Euros and Eve; "How do you explain the concept of Wales?"

- And, her asking Eve whether she'd found out about her pregnancy the traditional way, or whether someone had just come up to her in Cardiff and smelt her, a la Clem. Cue John and the audience hysterically laughing for about a minute and a half.

- John's impression of Captain Jack on a zimmer frame in Torchwood in forty years time; then he pointed to his very casted foot and said, "It's already happening!"

- Rusty teasing the "blonde lady" in the third row for apparently laughing at the concept of children in danger; "there are kids in bins!"

- Caitlin having to stop herself talking about what happens in episode two, and the rest of us yelling, "GO ON!"

- It emerging that, apparently, Torchwood is Nick Griffin's favourite programme. As a fan...urgh. I feel violated that such a bastard is sharing it. Still, it was fun to listen to all of them insult him.

- "When will we get a musical episode?" John saying that he hadn't seen the Buffy episode and everyone booing him, and then Rusty coming out with another corker; "It's just a shame nobody in the cast can sing!" Then, Eve talking about how it would go down for her; "I'll just in the background, throwing some shapes. I can throw a good shape." She then proceeded to throw a demonstrative shape. However besotted I was with her before this; I think it's doubled.

- Rusty talking about the Rupesh turn-around; "If only I'd written that he killed you with a flip-flop!" Cue John hysterically laughing again. I love how much he laughs!

- John and Eve. Oh, John and Eve. I could have happily spent the entire time watching those two; they're ridiculously adorable together, and it's clear that they're very close friends, constantly whispering and giggling and poking each other. It was so lovely to see them together for the first time.

- A guy asking a self-admitted "sci-fi geek" question about why the TARDIS couldn't pick up on any disturbance, and Rusty saying "that's answered!", everyone goes "Ooooo!", and John, with perfect timing, leans towards the microphone and says; "Touché."

- John and Eve's final exit; they were left behind because of John's hobbling on the crutches (which he was surprisingly adept at, actually; very fast). There was some pantomime jostling from Eve and she eventually slapped him on the arse to keep him moving, and they left to huge applause. Gah. I love them!


So. The night was already superb. But even more than the Q & A, the squee, the collective experience; my absolute favourite part was something different.

I'd had my hand up (complete with red book, and I'm sure Caitlin Moran noticed, if briefly) throughout the Q & A, hoping to ask something about the writing process; and since I knew that James Moran was in the audience, I was going to mention him in the question and say a quick appreciation of some sort. I wasn't called on, but as the Torchwood-ites left, I was hoping that he'd still be around.

As people were leaving, I saw him just above me talking to someone, and thought now or never.

I was so, so nervous. I read his blog all the time, and think he's a brilliant and hilarious man, and he's a brilliant source of info and advice for aspiring writers; he's refreshingly honest and frank about the process; he emerged from an aspiring screenwriter to a well-established film and television writer, and he shares his success with others and is a fantastic voice on the industry.

So, I told him all that. I told him (whilst stammering and probably sounding like a complete tit) that he was my writing inspiration (something which made him say "Oh, blimey." and look rather non-plussed; I'm not sure he's heard anyone tell him that!), and that, as an aspiring screenwriter myself, his advice was incredibly valuable and he was exactly where I wanted to be in the future. I was determined to get it out, and I'm so glad I did.

I mentioned that I read his blog, and he asked me what moniker I used, and he knew me! I was absurdly pleased that he'd recognised me; I'm a sad case, I know. I asked if he could sign my Torchwood postcard, and he did (whilst expressing disappointment that he didn't have one!), writing Writers are the BEST, due to something I'd haltingly said about writers not receiving the recognition they deserve, a lot of the time.

Then, and I can't believe I had the nerve to do this (as I'm a chicken, as previously established, yet my head was still now or nevering):

"How do you feel about hugs, or is that off-limits?"
"No, hugs are good!"

And we hugged, and he encouraged me to carry on writing, "really keep at it", and I literally floated away. I was so happy that I'd told him how inspiring he is to me (and, that I hugged him. Because he is awesome.), and I was just floating on air for hours afterwards.

Out in the lobby, the following people made my life complete:



Crystal and Robert; winning at life purely by posing. I loved them!



Derek, and...oh God. I feel utterly dreadful that I've forgotten the name of the guy on the left, because I made a point of asking him right before I left.

These guys were lovely. We'd talked to them on the way in, and stayed chatting for ages afterwards; talking about wacky surnames, the Torchwood episode, how brilliant it is being around fellow fans, Facebook, and general awesomeness. I'm attempting to contact Derek on Facebook and tag the picture on there; hope we meet again!

I bid farewell to Lucy, promising to see her again; it was wonderful to finally meet her, and I hope we can reunite one day, my dear!

Me and Tara walked back walking on air back to Waterloo, hugging and happy. I'd had one of the most fun evenings of my life; it was truly phenomenal, and was worth the blisters on my feet and the long journey back. I've seen Eve Myles, and Torchwood. I've shared with fellow fans. I've hugged James Moran.

At the risk of sounding soppy beyond reason; I was so happy.

Ow. This post has been two hours in the making. Must actually post it. But 'tis done!

*bows*

...sorry about the rambling, blogspotters. If you made it to the end of that I admire your stamina.

I'm doing something funny for money!

Okay. Let's try and document the growing insanity that is this month:

- Off to see Waiting for Godot, starring Ian McKellen and Patrick Stewart. HURRAH!
- A2 module results. Ack.
- Making a sponsored tit out of myself at school by dressing up as Amy Winehouse and singing to an extended crowd on Red Nose Day. Yes, you read that right!
- Open day at York University which should theoretically help me make a choice between York and Cardiff.
- My eighteenth birthday!
- My eighteenth birthday party!

Dear Lord, things are filling up already.

P.S. COME ON, TORCHWOOD.

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

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.

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!

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.

Doctor Who is back, people!

And, I must confess, I was so involved in Torchwood that I didn't notice it coming - then BAM; straight after thirteen weeks of solid Barrowman, we get thirteen weeks of solid Tennant. With Barrowman mixed in near the end. Hurrah!

Overall, I loved it. I missed the first ten minutes due to spaghetti boiling (which had me flicking frantically from room to room until I gave up and concentrated on the pasta before it overboiled), but it was easy to follow. Due to, great shock, being three years older than when it started, it's impossible to take Who seriously, but I loved it all the same; the little fat-babies were absolutely adorable, and Miss Foster, although seeming like a complete characature to me, was deliciously evil enough to scare the little kiddies. Plus, it was refreshing to have a motive other than destroy/take over the Earth. It's good to have a villain who cares.

(Lord, that sounds like some kind of advert.)

And Catherine Tate! I'll admit, I was one of the ones who was slightly annoyed by the addition of Catherine Tate; she's a great actress, but I found Donna relentless irritating in The Runaway Bride, and didn't think I'd enjoy that for thirteen straight weeks. However, I really enjoyed her in this; her experience with the Doctor has definitely changed her; she seems to have become more assertive, has a more meaningful perspective on life, yet she's still very ballsy and down-to-earth. Also, I love the relationship she has with the Doctor; they work very well as partners in crime, and the contrast between them is played out very well.

Time will tell if she'll capture the hearts of the public, but she seems to be doing brilliantly so far. I've read that the relationship between the two is more matey this time around, which seems to bode well; from what we can witness with Martha, unrequited love for the Doctor clearly doesn't do a lot of good. Not that it can be helped, I'm sure. I was glad to hear the Doctor expressing his guilt over his treatment of Martha; hopefully it'll lay a nice foundation for when we see her later on in the series. Hurrah!

So, all in all, good episode; a nice, ridiculous, fun-filled romp for an early Saturday evening. The new time-slot is irritating, though. What is it with the BBC and scheduling? Torchwood was completely all over the place; is that going to happen with Who as well?

Also, that bit with Rose?

I may have flailed. Just a tiny bit. Out of surprise. Bwee!

As for Torchwood...gah. I cried. I was completely spoiled for the deaths of Owen and Tosh, but I still cried. The episode itself...ehh...I loved it, but I was really hoping for something a lot stronger, and which made a modicum of sense. Also, the actor playing Jack's brother Gray was diabolical, to be honest, and the whole premise seemed very squashed together, and there wasn't enough room for any real development of the character, or of his relationship with Jack.

Still, James Marsters took another winning turn (although, as with Gray, the accent was a bit off. I haven't seen Buffy before - does his British accent fluctuate in that, as well?), and there was good acting all-round, especially from Naoko Mori and Burn Gorman. God, I'm going to miss Owen and Tosh. And Torchwood! This series has been a million miles better than last series, and the future of it is very uncertain. Still, I have thirteen episodes to enjoy at my leisure, and Jack will be cropping up very soon!

(And I'll be seeing John Barrowman live before that. But that's for another day.)

In addition, as read in Deathray magazine, Gwen and Ianto are meant to crop up in Doctor Who as well! SQUEEEEEE! God knows for how long, but it's been said more than once, and...oh hell, I don't care. IANTO! AND GWEN! IN DOCTOR WHO! YAYYYYYY!

...ahem. I'm rather excited about that.

RIGHT. That's the review done. Doctor Who is back! I'm going to miss the next episode, though, which is annoying; I'm off tomorrow to Turkey for a week, which promises to be fun. I still haven't packed, though. Next week (I think) is James Moran's episode, so make sure you give him some nice feedback on his blog; he's a lovely guy and hilarious with it.

Had better go and pack my suitcase. Will definitely post when I get back, on the second episode. Also, if you come back here after the 18th and see several posts filled with incoherent capslock and the letter "e" repeated many times, that means I've seen John Barrowman. And talked to him. And gone mental.

Bye!

Torchwood - A Day in the Death

Thought the first: Oh dear LORD that was brilliant. I have completely underestimated Burn Gorman; the man is fantastic.

Thought the second: The Torchwood fandom is about to explode into its usual, self-righteous, moaning wank over a little moment between Jack and Gwen in the trailer. Just thought I'd prepare the popcorn now before the angry capslock starts flying.

*sigh*

I'm about half the age of these people and I act with about double the maturity. On matters like this, anyway.

Longer post coming up.

I really have nothing to say, I just wanted to enjoy this.

If I don't post for a while, it means I'm a) Dying from stress, b) Already dead from stress, c) Watching Torchwood, or d) All three. Torchwood negates the other two, see. It's an odd but effective antidote.

(I'm doing Drama for AS. We perform in nine days. Did I mention dying of stress?)

Torchwood - To the Last Man

...I can't. I actually can't. If I start typing I will never stop, and it will be capslocked, and it will contain numerous recurrences of the letter "e".

Also, I may start crying.

God, I'm so immature.

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.)

Oh dear.

I may or may not have watched this scene about twenty times since I first watched the episode.

Gah.

The high-frequency pitch sounds have gone by now, but...hmm.

Coherency and rationality pending. Watch this space.

Right.

According to my laptop, it is 21:49. I have been sitting doing English homework whilst the Torchwood fandom melts beneath me. Or above me. Anyhow, it's somewhere where I'm not. Frankly, I think I've shown remarkable self-restraint.

(I couldn't see the start of the episode because I was out at Tae Kwon Do.)

Homework is done, floor will be cleared momentarily, the mobile is next to me (I already have two texts from different people in capitals, to which I responded, "For God's sake, don't tell me anything!"), and the DVD has done its magic. Hopefully. If it hasn't recorded I will kick the sodding thing.

21:51.

Here goes nothing, people. I'm about to step into the pathetic flaily fangirly abyss. Wish me luck!

(I'll be back with a reaction soon.)

Hello there, you insanely brilliant piece of work!

I am officially squeed and flailed out since finding out about this this morning.

I know it's sad.

But I don't really care.

TWO MORE WEEKS.

*goes back to doing something more important*

OH MY GOD.

LOOK AT IT!

SQUEEEEEEEE!

*jumps up and down*

Just had a quick read of this interview.

That pretty much confirms it; John Barrowman and James Marsters will be getting, how shall we say, rather personal in Torchwood series 2.

I know bugger all about James Marsters, and could count the episodes of Buffy I've seen on one hand, but OH LORD, YES.


Ahem.


...I'll be over here wibbling helplessly in my corner if you need me.

God only knows how you're going to cope, Lisa. (I know you're a Buffy fan, after all.)

The Sound of Drums? BRILLIANT. Bloody excellent. The Master is utterly bonkers, and I love him already.

Again, copying and pasting my initial flailing reaction:

I am calm.

I am calm, I am calm, I am totally calm.

I am serene, in fact.

I am...oh, whatever. FUCKING HELLFIRE, THAT WAS BRILLIANT!

With the...oh, John Simm, I think I may love you. And Martha and Jack, and the Vortex Manipulator, and....and SQUEEEE! TORCHWOOD REFERENCES! When Jack said he was calling some friends, I nearly flailed out of the chair. And they're on the Himalayas! *What*? I know they can be a dim lot sometimes, but surely they're intelligent enough to maybe leave someone behind in case there's an emergency? Or, even if they can't, make sure they have clear phone communication to Britain?

(They'd probably leave Ianto behind, wouldn't they? Hmph. Typical abandonment. Still, if they did, it would mean he was back at the Hub and could have answered the phone and met up with Jack. Oh bollocks, why didn't they leave Ianto behind?!)

Jelly babies! Tom Baker reference!

And the old Doctor, and the Toclafane!

AND GALLIFREY! We saw Gallifrey!

And Jack died. Again. Well, we were all expecting that.

Dear God, I'm still wibbling. And next week...combat Martha! Old Doctor! (I know it's still David Tennant under the makeup, but I do prefer his younger self. I'm shallow like that, see.) Gun-toting Jack! Dirty gun-toting Jack! And dirty, gun-toting Jack that is meant to reveal a "jaw-dropping secret".

....I can't wait. Really. I can't. WANT IT NOW. WANT. WANT MUCHLY.*squee*

It was only a bit later that I realised that Saxon, using his evil tapping, could have somehow convinced them *all* to go, over their better judgement. If he can get inside Jack's head (which we know is pretty unpenetratable from the Torchwood episode Greeks Bearing Gifts, then he can get inside anyone's head.

And the tapping. Oh, the tapping! Why on earth didn't I mention that? I love Russell for turning something so simple into something so sinister. And it's incredibly catchy; I've been tapping that rhythm ever since it aired.

Tappity-tap. Tappity-tap. Tappity-tap. Tappity-tap.

Other fantastic bits; Mrs Saxon (creeepyyyy), the perception filter keys, the phone conversation (with added subtext), the Paradox (that was some *perfect* CGI, there), the happy/sad faces, and Saxon and Jack in general. Hee.

My one criticism; Voodoo Child. It just didn't work.

Gah, I'm terrible at reviewing Doctor Who; I mean to be balanced and rational about the whole thing, but I just find myself wibbling hopelessly and incoherently.

What exactly are the Toclafane? They've got to be something awful if they can break the Doctor's hearts. I'm with the view that they're the last of the human race who took off in the rocket to Utopia; it would provide us with their story from the end of Utopia, and it would break the Doctor's hearts because he was the driving force in helping them set off, and it's him who is responsible for the extermination of the final humans.

Also (just remembered this), soon after the Professor turns back into a Time Lord, he takes a disc out of the computer and says "Utopia!" in a very scathing and evil way.

I can't think what else it would be. Whatever it is, it's big. Very big. *squee*

Anyway, had better be off. With any luck, I'll be viewing the final episode in Trafalgar Square on a big screen. It's just as likely that I won't, but it doesn't matter. Seriously looking forward to it. Hurrah!

Rosby out.