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Monday, November 21, 2011

Outing Myself

No, not that way. I'm outing myself as a sentimental slob. Some of you may have realized this, but I can think of a few people who don't really think I'm all that emotional. I try to hold myself together for the most part,  because things have to be dealt with before falling apart is an option. I'm good in an emergency, for instance, until it's over and then I tend to be useless for a bit.

In Real Life, that is.

In fiction I let myself go. It came to me with a certain clarity today as I wept and sobbed my way through Doctor Who: The End of Time that is is a bit of a pattern for me. I go along my daily way, being my normal fairly laid-back but with a temper self, and then... I watch something like this. Not just this episode of course, but the new (often emotionally-fraught) Doctor Who in general, when watched through Netflix Instant Play at the average rate of about two episodes a day, is enough to touch anyone with a heart. Nothing more heart-wrenching than a strong man trying not to cry, and David Tennant is the best tears-fighter on TV.

So here I sit, with swollen nose and red eyes. I was good. I did my homework and got a bit ahead on it. I did my job-hunting online for the day. I did the dishes and the laundry. Then I sat down for a couple hours of science fiction pathos at its finest. My head hurts, my face hurts, and I really look pretty awful (not quite this bad). But I am a girl, and sometimes I just need a good cry. Sure got mine today.