Ohhh-no! My young fan friend is back! Another long e-mail. Seems she read a post I'd made tonight on the DW Online site, regarding my preference of Derek Jacobi over Tennant, as acting goes. Well, gosh, didn't moi get an earful?

You'd think I'd said he was rubbish and he couldn't be the backend of a cow in a panto.

I mean, Jacobi I've been watching for years--I hadn't even heard of DT until April of last year! At all! I think it's pretty much a compliment, when I put him next to DJ, considering I'd never even seen him act until I watched Christmas Invasion in late July of 2006.

But, sadly, my young fan friend didn't see it that way. So, yours truly has been dutifully chastastized by a 15 or 16 year old. (Huge sigh.) Okay, so I have to PUBLICALLY APOLOGIZE to David Tennant. Yes, that's what she says I should do. Oh brother. :roll:

Okay, so I apologize to David Tennant for him being second to Derek Jacobi. Okay? The things you do for teenagers.

Ah well, I was young once myself...I think. Not sure I can remember back that far.

I may be only 46 chronologically--but inside my head, I'm definately turning 90, ha-ha.

Just ask the cats...nearly forgot to feed them their canned food, this morning...and boy did they ever remind me!

And, she wants me to write a fan letter. Yuck. No. Not gonna' happen.

Riiiight. Like a huge, filthy rich, super popular, ultra-busy star like David Tennant is going to give a flying fig what someone like me thinks? Ha!

I'm manic-depressive, but I'm not delusional--at least, not yet anyway. Why waste 85 cents on a stamp, and a dollar or two on a card, for some secretary (albeit, I'm sure a very nice secretary) in some office (likely a very posh office, mind) that won't even read it, anyway?

Nope. Life's too short to waste (okay, well, I've the time, haven't I?) on writing letters that will not only be meaningless to the recipient, but won't even be read in the first place?

So what'd I tell my David Tennant fan girl..."Maybe." Stupid me. She'll probably take that as a "yes," if I know teenagers. (Insert another huge sigh here.) Whatare'ya gonna' do, ey? How do I let myself get roped into these things?

And people wonder why I'm becoming a crotchey old maid?

Well, tommorrow's my "long" day--two five hour shifts with that two hour lunch break at three p.m. Kind of rough on the stomach, working 10 to 3--I eat breakfast around 8:30, shower around 9---have to try and sleep later on long days--only a half hour--because, quite frankly, I need it. One's voice takes a bit of a beating on those 10 hour days--even if you are working two different sales programmes--two slightly different scrips--you're still eseentially saying the same thing over and over all day long--and trying to sound perky and polite and enthuiastic in the process of getting your arse verbally kicked every hour on the hour.

It's nearly as tiring as some of the physical jobs I've had this year--but yes, easier on the feet and back, at any rate--but the throat and stomach and head tend to suffer instead.

I did have a nice moment today, though--didn't make the sale, but I did tell this reitred teacher how lovely her profession was and how much teacher and professors have meant to me. She cried. I was speechless--hadn't expected that reaction--it seems she was feeling down and she told me my little totally offhand remark, had made her day, and made her feel better. Wow. The power of words, ey? That's why I love writing so much...and theater, as well--the power of words, of speech--a wonderful thing, ey?