@ 08/07/2007 – 12:10:22
I'd much rather be on a lake cruise or something, than telemarketing this afteroon--leaving in half and hour for work, work till half past five. Yuck. Yuck. Yuck.
This Lake George cruise on the Mohican is my kind of cruse--check out the bums on these guys! 
Never tried the para-sailing..too chicken..I can't swim, really.
Yes, this is New York state--I lived in Lake George last year, and it's still only 15 or 20 miunte drive up the road from Glens Falls.
@ 08/07/2007 – 10:56:10
Doctor Who: Time Lords Don't Cry, by N.
CHAPTER 12: Facing His Demons
The Doctor stood with hands clenched, head bowed. Pain etched itself on his features, and old and ancient pain, from so far back in his past, he’d thought he’s rid himself of it. “Nine hundred years,” he thought, ‘nine hundred years, and I still have to deal with this.” He swallowed and looked as if he was going to be ill. A full range of emotions rippling through him: shame, hurt, loneliness, sorrow, confusion, and the worst of all, fear. He’d thought, after all these years of traveling and trying to save the universe from itself, he’d run away from all this. But it came back in on him, right in his face, when he’d least expected it.
Staring at a stain on the wall, yet not truly seeing it, the Doctor felt sick inside himself, he suddenly felt...old. Marie looked at him sadly. Getting up from the sofa, she walked over and took him by the hand. "Doctor? I'm sorry if I made you sad."
He turned and looked at her. Finally, the Doctor understood the familiar sensations he got when he was near her. She was very much like he’d been once, and perhaps still was, in many ways. Sighing deeply, he closed his eyes. After a moment he said, “It’s alright, Marie." He sighed with resignation. A Daughter of Rassillon--as he was a Son of Rassillon--their ancient lineage, going back for eons of Time.
The Doctor returned her squeeze. She was only half-Time Lord, so perhaps that's why he'd not felt her presence, before now--felt that intimate connection between souls, that only his fellow Time Lords could experience between each other. 'Well," he thought, scratching his neck, 'dear old Rassillon sure did get around.' He looked into Marie's worried eyes and smiled thinly. It wasn't her fault, and he'd no right to be upset with her. Squeezing her hand again, he said, "It's alright. It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault--stuff happens.”
He looked out the window at the night. A cousin, he had a cousin--or was she an aunt? What was this child to him, anyway?. Well, sort of a half-cousin, at the very least. He gave a resigned shrug and a slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He supposed if he could live through watching his world, his people all die, through losing Rose, he could get through this as well. Making a decision, he reburied his pain deep inside his mind. Then, he turned and held out his hand to Marie, smiling warmly. “Come on then, and give your Uncle Doc a nice big hug, eh? It seems that neither of us is alone any more.”
A short while later, the Doctor and Marie were once again seated on the sofa. After a while Marie had gone back in the kitchen and put more hot water on for tea. Marie took a sip from her cup, and shyly looked over the rim at the Doctor. He'd just finished saying that he was wondering, where on earth her Uncle Tobias had got himself to. “They don’t like the light, Marie said quietly, “it’s when the moon was gone, that Uncle Tobias would come out of his room. I'd always hide. He doesn’t know about the tunnel. I found it by accident.” The Doctor raised an eyebrow and took a sip from his cup. “Yes, you mentioned something about that before, that they don’t like light. There are only just so many creatures that fit that description.”
“Creatures” Marie shuddered involuntarily, "What sort of creatures?" "Well,” The Doctor said expansively, “There’s vampires for one. And there’s the Storm Dwellers, the Shadow People, the Nightlings, the Aphoticals, the Mogs, the Kritchets, the Nockwogglers, and let’s see, oh--about a few hundred more that I can think of…not very many at all, in the scope of the universe. Let me think. He cocked his head at her. What do we know, so far, eh, Marie?” He said, looking at her expectantly.
Marie bit her lip. “Ummm--they don’t like light, they kill people, ummm--I’ve seen the blood, from the animals, but the bodies disappear. First it was the chickens, then the goat, then, today, the cows and...and…” She looked away and tried to hide her hurt. He felt her hurt--not just imagined it…truly felt it. Inside himself, and he wasn’t sure how to take that. Hesitating only a fraction of a second, he reached over and hugged her again. “I know, really I do.” He drew back and looked thoughtfully at her. “Hang about, what was that you said before, about a tunnel?”
Marie pointed towards the kitchen. “I found it, one time, when I was moving the old ice box in the corner. I’d dropped a recipe card behind it. There was a trap door underneath. I think it is very old. I remember my teacher at school once, talking about the Underground Railroad being around here. That’s when they hid slaves running away to Canada, back before the Civil War. Maybe it’s from then. I don’t know.” The Doctor was about to reply when a movement outside the window, stopped him.
Without warning, one of the dogs began barking, followed by the other two. Then, they all three yelped in terror, and were suddenly silenced. The Doctor got up swiftly and crossed to the window. The sky was black as pitch. The moon had gone in. The Doctor smiled grimly. “Ah. I do believe Uncle Tobias has finally come home.”
LINK TO ORIG. VERSION OF THIS CHAPTER: http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=7193&chapter=12
@ 07/07/2007 – 22:58:52
George Bush, that Baptist church in Topeka, the right-wing Supreme Court, college students who believe there's 51 states, flag-waving Americans who don't know anything whatsoever about the history of their country, democracy or how to walk through a car park safely, no health care, people who actually believed that Sadam was responsible for 9/11, Fox News, Rush Limbaugh, Paris Hilton, Beavis and Butthead, Jerry Falwell, rednecks, yuppies, rednecks...Get me the hell outta' this country!!!
@ 07/07/2007 – 19:58:41
I was just chatting online with a few of my fellow Whovians.
We were discussing Ms. Agyeman's departure and Ms. Tate's arrival as the Doctor's companion. Consensus was mutual. We all liked Martha, but we all (we, mostly are in the 35 and over age range) thought that the lovey dovey stuff was weakening Martha's role as companion, not helping it. Freema was awesome as a companion, no complaints about her or her performances. She seems a very capable actress and well up to the task. No, I'm afraid the fault lies with RTD. He's a brilliant writer, really, I do believe that. But even the best of writers can get caught up in all the complicated aspects of a story, and lose the big picture.
Consensus was that us old-time fans, for the most part, are getting fed up with this constant Tardis love-fest. Bleh, I think is the word. A little is okay, it's the 21st century, after all. But..come on, dear Mr. Davies, it was getting a bit...sickening. I felt, and still feel, that the love-fest was really bogging the story down, rather than moving it forward. Exploring relationships is wonderful, I love that we're finally checking out the Doctor's psyche and motives and all--but the words, "too much of a good thing" enters in here, I think.
Plus, as a forty-something, I really had a difficult time relating to Rose. Her character was nearly completely out of my realm, as someone I could connect with. Oh, Bille was wonderful in her portrayal of Rose, and Rose was a terrific character, certainly. But...I just couldn't seem to connect with Rose, as I'd done with other companions--had that problem with Adric's character, as well, as I recall. It happens, sometimes. I felt more in tune with Martha, for sure. Martha was more the type of person I associate with, I suppose, because she was more mature and more of a thinker, I feel. She asked the right questions, I think--and Freema nailed the part, playing it just as real as could be, with her reactions. And, she was older, which helps.
Even when I was a teen, I never hung out with Roses's type of character--my sister did, but not me. Not that there's anything wrong, I just...I don't know, Rose might be someone I'd like to know casually, but not someone I'd probably hang out with. Well, probably could say the same about Martha, but I think the conversation would be a lot more interesting , with her character, and she'd be a lot more fun to be around.
Now Donna--Catherine Tate's character--I can relate to. I've known Donna's type. Worked with them, had them for neighbours. Again, the characters's maybe someone I'd not hang out with, but certainly someone I can very much tune into. Someone closer to my own age, who has, to some tiny extent, lived as I have (Oh yes, have done the temping thing--and the shallow boyfriends from hell).
And, I love the chemistry between Tennant and Tate, I really, really do--it's fantastic! Classic, even. As I told a friend tonight, this ying-yang relationship is just what I love to see in a stage play, because it's just so darn fun to watch--and, I think, really fun to write, as well (at least to me it is). And, maybe no more lovey-dovey eyes for a while? Please Russell, cool your jets with the soap opera stuff, ey? BLEH! Gag me!
I was going to play around with the next chapter in Time Lords Don't Cry, but decided not. There's something wrong with me tonight--has been all day. Can't put my finger on it, I actually feel much better, physically, than I've done in ages, tho' still tired, of course. I did do some more editing of Chapter 11, tonight, tho, but only a minor change to one part, and found a small grammar error, and fixed it.
What's going on is in my brain---I've been stumbling over words all day, and my typing is downright dyslexic tonight--and I'm NOT dyslexic! I just can't seem to focus and my head's all done in. No clue. I don't hurt--at least no more than what's normal for me, I don't feel lightheaded or dizzy, I'm breathing okay--no idea. But I was really seriously, totally stumbling over my scripts today--very unusual for me, and tonight I just can't type at all--I keep having to re-type stuff, because I'm spelling words all wrong or leaving out letters. Well, hopefully it's nothing and will pass.
So, if there is anyone out there actually reading my Doctor Who story re-write, sorry. You'll have to wait a day or so for the next chapter, or as soon as my head gets right and I can type again. Really miss having a proper desk to work at. This typing in my lap and having to have a faraway screen, doesn't help much.
The content of this website belongs to a private person, blog.co.uk is not responsible for the content of this website.
