I realized the other day that this year marks 20 years since I ended high school and began college. 20 years?! Um, ick. And where the hell did the all that time go? [Sigh.] Because nostalgia is a bitch (that I surely love), of course my college beginnings have filtered back into my mind. Ahhhh….those days. Those days when was I cast into the “real world” and treated like an “adult.” Those days where I had the freedom to screw up and around in ways I never imagined. Those years of having to make decisions without really thinking of the consequences. Those years where guidance about college majors and jobs was never really guided, but rather was mostly left up to my own devices and sometimes poor choices. I certainly didn’t follow a yellow brick road to my current job, and I definitely didn’t think that acing a few high school history classes would ever lead to something bigger.
For the past few weeks, I’ve harbored a strange set of emotions. First off, I hurt. Not in a sad way but in a good way. My back aches and my ankles and wrists are sore. I’ve felt continually groggy for the past couple weeks and no amount of coffee seems to ward off the narcoleptic moments. Second, I’m happy. Not in a laugh-out-loud way but in a contented way. As if the dust of a decade of unsettledness has finally taken wind. The days seem clearer and have more purpose now than ever. And the anticipation of what’s next lays heavy around me. Third, I’m nervous. My proclivity towards worrying has only increased recently. I’ve become anxious, finding little respite in video games and other entertainments of late. I try to allay my nerves with thoughts of “it’ll be alright” and “it’s always a little difficult the first time round,” but they are quickly squelched by those irritating, in-flight neurons of unease.
While it might sound like I just had a kid or started a new job, neither is the case. What I have is a house.
Minor spoilers ahead, mostly in picture form.
Several nights ago, watching a kung fu movie sounded like a great way to end an exhausting day. We perused the, um, interesting variety of motion pictures available on Crackle and found an unfamiliar Jackie Chan movie: Shinjuku Incident (2009). Here’s what Crackle promises of the movie:
“Jackie Chan plays against his ‘one man army’ persona and enlists his own troops to lead a modern day peasant revolt.”
Jackie Chan is a welcome fixture in our house. I wouldn’t go as far as to call myself a Jackie Chan fanatic, but Rumble in the Bronx is on my list of “desert island” movies. We have a fair number of Chan’s movies in the ol’ DVD collection, including his one of his greatest movies, and a great, all-around kung fu movie, Legend of Drunken Master. Like so many other movie-goers, I thoroughly enjoy his signature mix of martial arts and humor. In addition to Rumble and Drunken Master, Mr. Nice Guy rounds out my top three Jackie Chan favorites.
Cue thousands of fangirls (and guys) bursting into tears simultaneously. It was announced over the weekend that Matt Smith, who plays the 11 incarnation of The Doctor, will be leaving the show after the Christmas special in December 2013.This means that Smith’s final two episodes will be the highly anticipated 5oth Anniversary special and the Christmas special before The Doctor will make his 12th regeneration.
Smith had only good things to say about his nearly 4 years on the show, full statement on BBC News:
“Doctor Who has been the most brilliant experience for me as an actor and a bloke, and that largely is down to the cast, crew and fans of the show.
“I’m incredibly grateful to all the cast and crew who work tirelessly every day to realise all the elements of the show and deliver Doctor Who to the audience. Many of them have become good friends and I’m incredibly proud of what we have achieved over the last four years.
“Having Steven Moffat as show runner write such varied, funny, mind bending and brilliant scripts has been one of the greatest and most rewarding challenges of my career. It’s been a privilege and a treat to work with Steven – he’s a good friend and will continue to shape a brilliant world for the Doctor.
The fans of Doctor Who around the world are unlike any other; they dress up, shout louder, know more about the history of the show (and speculate more about the future of the show) in a way that I’ve never seen before.
“Your dedication is truly remarkable. Thank you so very much for supporting my incarnation of the Time Lord, number 11, who I might add is not done yet – I’m back for the 50th anniversary and the Christmas special.
Smith is a fan favorite and a favorite with critics as well, as he’s the only Doctor to be nominated for a BAFTA for his role. Smith was also the youngest actor to ever portray The Doctor, which might have influenced a lot of updates to the show, including a new title sequence and Doctor Who logo, as well as updated looks to the Daleks, the TARDIS, the sonic screwdriver and others.
There is no word yet on how Smith’s Doctor will regenerate or who will be replacing him, but show runner Steven Moffat seems just as excited as the rest of us.
“Somewhere out there right now – all unknowing, just going about their business – is someone who’s about to become the Doctor,” Moffat hinted to BBC News.
“A life is going to change, and Doctor Who will be born all over again. After 50 years, that’s still so exciting.”
The 5oth Anniversary episode will air 23rd November 2013 with the Christmas episode to air after that.
Who would be your ideal choice for the next Doctor? Personally,we really would like to see him finally become a ginger.
Learn more about Emily & Peter!
This is our cat.
His name is Moose. Except, it really isn’t.
His real name is “Elwood.” (He had a brother named “Jake.”) We called him Elwood for awhile, but somewhere along the way, we started calling him “moose.” It stuck.
We often refer to him as “dat moose,” as in “Where is dat moose? Why, he’s lying behind the sofa/table/dresser/someplace where we can’t bother him.” Oh, and bother him we do.
For, you see, Dat Moose does not like us much. Even after all these years of giving him food and love, he still isn’t our friend.
My husband and I recently started watching the Starz quasi-historical drama DaVinci’s Demons. The series follows the young Leonardo DaVinci and his adventures in Renaissance Italy. I say “quasi-historical” because the show is built more around drama than history, though DaVinci’s biography is certainly recognizable. The man who was ahead of his times in thought and action takes center stage. The artist, the maker, and the intellect are all in play. Add in the Vatican, the de’ Medici’s, corrupt officials, more than a few sex scenes, language you think wouldn’t be period but actually is, and you’ve got yourself one hell of a ride.
The show’s interpretation of history is intriguing, but not as interesting as one thing to which I geek out in period shows and movies: historical clothing. In a past life, I used to make and maintain theatre costumes. It started in college and led to a brief career at a few Shakespeare festivals. I know my way around costume history and can usually differentiate between various eras, visually anyway. I love the knowledge that I have, but it’s also very distracting, for it paints everything I watch, be it live theatre or a TV show. And in the case of DaVinci’s Demons, it is the clothing, not the story, to which I pay the most attention.
It’s true. I’ve enjoyed writing since I was young; and I’ve been told over the years that I’m pretty good at it. While creative writing was by far my favorite in school, I also enjoyed writing essays and term papers. The notion of writing for a living came to a head when I was in the 10th grade. In our English class, we had to write a fictional story in groups on any subject we so desired. My group of four titled our novella, I kid you not,” He-Man, Woman Hater.” It was ridiculous and ridiculously fun to write. We got an “A.”
In that same class, we were required to keep a daily journal. At the start of each class, we were given 10-15 minutes to write in the journals, and the teacher would collect them and “grade” the entries. In my journal, I wrote stories; each day adding a new paragraph to whatever story I had invented. I remember one story about a nightmare. And another about a medieval princess transported to modern Los Angles. I was big into sci-fi/horror/fantasy novels, TV, and movies at the time, which helped influence my imagination. My teacher liked the crazy stories and encouraged me to continue. I was never docked points for not keeping a true “diary.”