Doctor What?
Recently, Luke and I have been watching Doctor Who again. I don’t say “again” as if we’d stopped watching it all together, I say “again” as in we’ve never watched the show together so let’s start over from the beginning. We’re currently in the middle of “New Who” Series 3, or The Tenth Doctor’s second season. This means we just recently finished Series 2.
If you know me and my relationship with the show at all, you know that Ten and Rose are my favorite and while I have accepted Eleven and River, they are not the pairing that is near and dear to my heart. And if you know the show at all, then you know what happens at the end of Series 2 and can probably guess where I am going with this.
I. Was. Bawling.
I don’t know why I put myself through watching that ending again. I really don’t. It wasn’t even when they’re both on the different sides of the walls that got me, it was when they’re on the beach. When Rose says “I love you” and The Doctor doesn’t get to say it back I thought my heart was going to fall out. That episode premiered in 2006. I first watched it in (probably) 2010. It is 2017. I feel like Snape, #Always (#ImActuallyNotAFanOfThatAndDontThinkItsAsRomanticAsItsSupposedToBe).
And I know that it’s sort of a happy ending for the two of them at the end of Series 4, but it’s really not. Once again, The Doctor is left alone while his companions are left happily galavanting about with their other mortal counterparts. It’s not fair to him but that is the life he chose, sort of.
After all of my crying and Luke stopping to play Pokemon Stadium so that I could get a break, we talked about the show and how we wish they’d show the Time War. I stated that the only storyline in Doctor Who that could even be more heartbreaking than Doomsday would be watching him have to leave his family and blow up Gallifrey and, though I just asked myself why I wanted to put myself through Doomsday again, I would totally watch him blow his family up.
To the new execs, because Moffat is no longer head writer: do this. People would watch it. We get it, he’s all broken up about it and it’s tragic, but give it to us instead of just making John Hurt yet another Doctor in the timeline, making it more regenerations than he’s supposed to have, and for the love of God, don’t credit Billie Piper as Rose when she’s the BadWolf, not Rose.
Looking forward on another note, while I am sad that Peter Capaldi is leaving, I am so excited to have a female Doctor coming in. I think it is going to be a wonderfully refreshing change. That’s really all I can say about that matter right now because I don’t know enough about Jodie Whittaker, but I am optimistic. Hopefully she does well and we can get more strong and awesome ladies on the show again instead of mysteries that need to be solved. I’m looking at you, Moffat…

For the past 17 months, around the middle of the month an email has come to my inbox and within about a week from that day this package has come to my mailbox. This is the packaging that ipsy sends their GlamBags in. It’s super pink, super shiny, and super squishy. They bring a smile to my face.
Yes, having a cookie jar means we will be baking cookies. Yes, I will post photos of him filled with cookies. For now, here he is in all of his cute glory. I love him.
Usually this is where my escapades stop. We eat, sit around for a bit, and then will eat dessert later- ice cream or some fruit depending on how we’re feeling. I started eating peanut butter on saltines (do I still sound like a broke college student?) when I suddenly wanted to make rice pudding. I’d never made rice pudding before but I knew it took milk and rice, two things we had. Luke told me to go for it so I looked up recipes and I found an easy one that didn’t take too much work, put the stuff in the pot and let it cook. Lazy foodie for the win! I also decided to make a bit of a peach compote to go with it since we had some peaches in the fridge that were getting a bit soft. The whole dessert turned out really well and we ate the leftovers for a snack this afternoon. The process of getting to the wonderfully delicious pudding you see on the left however, was more of a mess than I wanted. The milk boiled over and since we have a glass flat-top stove, it ended up burning onto it and the kitchen smelled like burnt marshmallows for about ten minutes. It still isn’t totally clean and I still hate myself.

