The Doctor's Journal|
[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 14 most recent journal entries recorded in
The Doctor's LiveJournal:
|Tuesday, August 19th, 2003|
As I was wandering through the unchartered corridors of the TARDIS this morning, I came upon a full-length mirror. (I mean that in the sense of "found", incidentally. It's rather depressing to be forced by the hoi polloi to censor oneself in order to avoid the gutters of their minds.) It has been some time since I took a good look at myself in the strictly visual sense, and I must say that what I saw was very encouraging. For too long I have allowed this so-called "community" to ridicule my clothes, my stature, my poise. I had almost begun to believe it myself.
Well, no longer. Today I have returned to my senses. In no other regeneration have I been so imposing, so commanding, so evidently noble in mind and spirit. Never has my intelligence been written so clearly across my features. It is a sad reflection on the universe that only Splinx seems to appreciate me. Nevertheless, I rise above it. It is enough to know one's own worth; the opinions of the rabble cannot damage my integrity. I do not need their attention.
That is all. Current Mood: complacent
|Thursday, May 8th, 2003|
Saving the world, reading, cake...
What else can I do? Current Mood: bored
|Friday, April 18th, 2003|
I like brownies.
*sunny smile* Current Mood: mellow
|Friday, April 11th, 2003|
I feel that nobody takes me seriously. I save the universe, I cope with three of Evelyn including one who demands Thomas the Tank Engine with silly voices, yet all they do is mock me.
It's not fair. Current Mood: grumpy
|Wednesday, April 2nd, 2003|
All of me appear to be conducting vastly complicated sex lives. I am getting horrific frustration-by-proxy. It's quite distracting. Although I of course
haven't much choice
have no interest in such things, it is nevertheless troubling. I quite violently wish that the Beige One would have sex with something. Anything. Even the Master. Even Turlough. Maybe. I can repress it later. I just need *this* to stop.
There's an ice box somewhere, I think... Current Mood: depressed
|Wednesday, March 19th, 2003|
While I am of course flamboyant and exciting, I am beginning to wonder just what I've let myself in for.
People will probably stain the carpets. I've just had the curtains cleaned. And I'm sure my cellar will not be respected.
It's not that they'll drink it. It's that they'll drink it like alcopops
It would, on the other hand, be nice to see some of my old companions, especially the endearingly stupid ones who
made me feel better about myself
were such good company. I miss Jo sometimes. She didn't mock my pyjamas, even though they were paisley back then too. Not such attractive paisley, though.
I am somewhat more apprehensive about my future companions. Mel seems pleasant (although she may well kill me), but Evelyn is
quite frankly terrifying
a little unusual. And, I suspect, finds me attractive. While this is understandable it is nevertheless
a little awkward and means I may be obliged to
hurt her feelings somewhat.
The thought of meeting Seven also troubles me. The idea that he is in some way a fulfilment of my subconscious aspirations is a little worrying. Where in my mind is the bit that wants to play spoons?
He, on the other hand, wanted to be taller and thiner and attractive to girls, or indeed anything. How teribly... obvious
How glad I am that I am above such things.
I hope nobody invites One. He doesn't bother us much at all, in fact, which is good.
Imagine if he were to turn up in more than his administratory capacity to annoy us all. Just think what hilarious dialogue would ensue. Thank Rassilon* that
*Just an expression. Don't get smug. Current Mood: uncomfortable
|Thursday, March 13th, 2003|
There is a party happening.
Although I'm not at it, I am at it in a different timestream and, allegedly, different clothes. With another companion I haven't met.
The different clothes seem very unlikely. I feel violated.
Even the cat has gone.
He still doesn't have a name. We need one quite quickly before he becomes Fitz by default.
I need a hug.
I am, of course, above all this. Current Mood: anxious
|Saturday, March 8th, 2003|
|Quite Chirpy Today
I don't quite know what's been wrong with me of late. I suspect that the TARDIS may be affecting me. I feel I have recovered somewhat, however. The Community of Rassilon continues to occupy am alarming amount of my time. What with Master-baiting - hang, on, no, I really can't say that - what with baiting the Master, teasing the Beige One (oh, he's all very well, but I'm landed with the regrets here) and getting to know my TARDIS, I've been having immense fun.
A companion I have yet to meet has been speculating as to the contents of my sock drawer.
I was actually offended by Peri's description of my pyjamas. Surely I am above this? It's just that my paisley pyjamas seem so very much a part of my identity. I like to think that they, and the matching dressing-gown, convey a sort of relaxed elegance.
Not that anyone is likely to see them. *allows self a small, a very small sigh*
On a brighter note, the hamsters are back.
I missed them.
Peri suggests a cat. Would a grey Persian be too high-maintanence?
Oh. Saved Universe. Wasn't a bad one, though. Back for tea and all. Peri did rather well, I thought. And she *never* trips over things that aren't there. Current Mood: chipper
|Friday, March 7th, 2003|
I really don't know what's come over me.
Bought The Queen is Dead today so I could listen to more than just one track looped for hours.
I am several hundred years too old for all this. Although I think that the themes explored in Buffy are timeless.
I have created new and more attractive pictures of myself. Not, of course, that this is in any way necessary as I am above such things, but it seems to be expected of one around here.
Microsoft Photo Editor is entirely useless, though. I must pirate some better software as a gesture against capitalism and corporate exploitation and to make me look nicer.
I wonder how Eight gets his hair like that?
I really admire Joy Division's innovative use of bass. I sometimes feel that the classical world has over-restricted itself.
Sat on couch all day with choc fudge Tofutti and claret, watching Angel. I'm impressed by how it has managed to establish its own identity while never losing touch with its characterisation.
I think I may be a little drunk. Nothing to worry about, though. I am in no form of crisis. Current Mood: listless
|Thursday, March 6th, 2003|
I have been having strange dreams of late. I think it's the question of my impending doom and so forth. I'm haunted by terrifying images of a faceless entity known simply as "The Corporation" which is working ceaselessly for my destruction. I know it's unlikely, but I just can't seem to get rid of it.
Had to foil evil plot by Master *and* Rani the other day. I'd almost forgotten about her. God knows how. She's still quite something, but she was truly amazing back when she had all her own hormones. She was never evil as such, just didn't tend to waste time on abstractions like morality or sanity.
She used to do this thing where she'd dress up in a floaty frock and tiara, and pick up some guy in mediaeval England. She'd shag his brains out, then dump him seven years in the future - seventy if she was feeling spiteful or premenstrual - and the poor sod would start babbling about the Queen of the Fairies and get slain by a mob with pitchforks.
Evil, OK, but what a woman! Like a power-crazed menopausal me. Current Mood: nostalgic
|Tuesday, March 4th, 2003|
Appearance of companion of next self.
Troubling. I hope I'm still impressive.
Also, I'm troubled by the thought of my impending death and its nature. This does rather bring it home.
Something heroic, i hope. Just my luck if I trip over Peri's rubbish. Current Mood: quixotic/disconcerted
|Monday, March 3rd, 2003|
I am concerned that my amnesiac later self may be entertaining inappropriate thoughts.
It's understandable. After all, I am older, wiser, more authoritative.
Nevertheless, it is troubling me. Current Mood: quixotic
My past may be catching up with me. However, usually it doesn't slap me around the head and tell me to do up my laces. So to speak. I must confess to being a little disturbed at being located by a self with both a memory (senility notwithstanding) and strong views on capital punishment which I am ashamed ever to have held.
Dear Lord, I even ate meat
This is not to say that I object entirely. Who knows, perhaps I may even enjoy it. But oh Lord, the beige one. I did so hope and pray never ever to have to see, speak to or think of the beige one ever ever again. To think that I was ever so insecure, so inhibited, so neurotic, so... beige
Still, it would be nice to catch up with some of me. Not to mention old friends. It is also pleasant to reflect on how very much more... but no, mustn't blow my own trumpet. I'm sure all of me were very well in their way. Nevertheless, life is pleasant.
I must let out the seams on my coat. The damn thing seems to have shrunk. Current Mood: quixotic
|Sunday, March 2nd, 2003|
Peri has pointed out to me the existence of a LiveJournal claiming to be by one of my future selves.
I am sceptical. I would never dress like that. Ostentatious.
Although given the clothes favoured by my previous self, most things would be an improvement. Especially me.
Peri, being inclined as young people are to waste time and energy on this laughable abacus of an "Internet" (where, I'm told, she writes homoerotic "fanfiction"), seems to think that I too should join the "online" "community". I think she may have a point. What, after all, could be more beneficial to society? Certainly not the cricket-obsessed meanderings of a beige nonentity.
Depressingly, I can't find my old scarf anywhere. Not the ugly burgundy one, the nice one. It's almost as though my previous self had stolen it for publicity stunt purposes.
I must go now, as I'm meeting an assortment of mildly effete literary historical figures for a game of bridge. Wilde cheats. Entertaining, though, in a trivial sort of way. Current Mood: quixotic