Voyage of Exams

Warning: somewhat spoilerish post for "Doctor Who" Series Four, Le Christmas Speciale, picture-wise. And, of course, loads of fangirl babble. So that you know.

I am tired. No, actually, I am completely exhausted. Have just (a few hours ago) finished my final exam; the one I dreaded so intensely and have been preparing through massive efforts of work and re-reading in the latter days; and my goodness, it was difficult! Four hours of bored-to-death topics and tasks I could hardly twist my mind around, in order to think of something to write, and with demands that exceeded all my expectations and challenged my every...answering ability. I suppose those are the right words. But somehow, I (think I) managed. Wrote lots and lots of pages, including some rubbish. My thumb is still swollen. My back doesn't co-operate. My bum is slightly flattened. Still, as of now, ladies and gentlemen, I have finally and very much officially entered the TRUE Christmas Holiday Period; with capitol letters and all; about which I am euphorically joyous! Highly enthusiastic! Yet, my mind is in the state where it usually is, after ordeals like this, preventing me from thinking clearly and enticing me to do simpler things, like forcing me to run around and lose energy in non-confusing, non-intricat ways, with regard to what I can procure of mental capacity. I just don't want to read anything. Or write thesis-thingies. Or rememer stupid, useless, irrelevant sentence structure analysis basic facts. For a long while. Came home, huffed about for some time; fixing laundry, checking e-mails, writing e-mails, making proper lunch, reading papers; and then I collapsed on my bed and simply fell asleep. Counting 30 minutes, then bang! woke up again. Whereafter I stood up, full of new energy to be wasted on mindless activities, and put on some Queen music. Loud. Poor neighbours. Then I decided to check out the daily, brilliant and beloved Doctor Who calendar, and got inspired into making this little piece of obsessive fan-droodle, which didn't take much thinking but some moping and Rose-missing and increased anticipation for the holidays and the Holiday Happenings: "Doctor's Greetings", by Scaramouche, the Po(t)et, exceptionally free adaptation of Whams! very own and very memorable classic. Which I adore.

Last Christmas I gave you my heart
But a moment too soon, you were taken away
This year, to save me from tears
I write off my cards with a fond, albeit unheard farewell
I'll be saving the world, thinking of us
And our magical times together
Our brilliant, beautiful travels
Tell me, my darling, will you recognise me
As times grow old and the sky grows pale
Remember me then, when you gaze thereupon
I'll be swarming the galaxies, looking for you
The face of a lover with a fire in his hearts
A Time Lord undercover, but love tore me apart
What I found was never to fool me again
Last Christmas you gave me your heart
Yet the very next year, I drifted away
Into the storm, with a tear on my cheek
Still thinking of my someone so special

[Image: Click to enlarge. Photoshopping Scara's new Adventures, with some help from textures and outer glow. Starring David and Billie, as usual. All rights served, or Kylie will come and kick you...with her fancy, black, laced-up bootsies. Dear BBC: you may feel free to use this nice little fanart for any purpose you find suitable, for instance advertising your upcoming Series 4, Voyage of the Damned. As for the rest of you: respect the copyrights!]

BBC Christmas is gold! Only problem is, my very stylish widescreen LCD TV-machine doesn't have BBC! But I guess I can find this...otherwise. Regardless, will be exremely exciting to watch and I can't wait to see Kylie in her new and classy Astrid-costume! Also, er, that guy in the tux. Right. Trying hard NOT to imagine David in sexy clothes and with lovable specs, onboard period drama clad alien space ship, saving the world. Which, on the other hand, sounds rather appealing. Lest to say fantastic. Well, that's another thing about my mind: when drifting off to easier ways of occupating itself; turning down the power, turning up the speed; it sort of short-circuits and strands at a level of teenage behaviour. Gets stuck. Thus, simple comes to mean literally simple. I go from childish to gigglish. I start dreaming about Doctors again in a really immature sense. Awful situation? Nopes. More like amusing! I revel in concerning myself with slightly less complicated matters, and consequently the world is viewed in less complicated terms. What matters is here and now and loverboys. Post-exam discharge. My standards become really plain. Food-into-mouth, hand-on-remote-control, feet-crossing-floor. That kind of elementary motions. But when you have to perform so incredibly, and concentrate so hard, over such a limited period of time (four hours of exam is nothing! four weeks of practise is murder!), you do get this peculiar need of not having to perform at all afterwards. Just rest. Chat about topics that don't requite consideration and evaluation or anything I can put into stupid diagrams. With proper arguments attached. No more! Give me coffee, telly, Doctor, sweetness. That's the foundation of my happiness at the moment. That, and Queen. Absorbed in Freddie's octaves. Swimming in guitar solos. Life is good when you know how to make it so. And right now, I need for me to allow myself to make my life very good and very Christmas-ish. End of story, for the day! I will be back - with more initiative and enthusiasm than ever!