So as I'm walking down the street one day, contemplating how I can best get my hands on a copy of "Song For Ten" from Doctor Who while simultaniously counting down the minutes to the airing of the new Doctor Who Christmas speacial "The Runaway Bride" (19 days, 21 hours, 04 minutes, 03 seconds at the time of this writing) I slowly begin to realize that I am addicted to England.
Granted, I live in New England, so that's really not all that rare, but I'm pretty sure it hasn't risen to this extent in most cases.
My entire life lately, has revolved around Doctor Who. Watching Doctor Who, writing about Doctor Who, wishing I was watching or writing Doctor Who, wishing I was in Doctor Who, drinking tea while watching Doctor Who. That's my life. When I'm not busy putting on a British accent in this year's production of "A Christmas Carol" in Manchester.
British slang, or at least what I consider to be British slang, has slowly begun to slip into my vocabulary. After watching Rose Tyler on Doctor Who though, how can you possibly not want to yell "Stop mucking about!" at your friend in the cafeteria?
My family isn't really helping either. In my house, BBC America is on all the time. If it's not The History Channel, or PBS, it's BBC. The radio is always turned to NHPR, so we're constantly getting reports from the BBC. My family is also addicted to tea, and aparently (in my mother's own words) has been since "The cave people first heated up water". The family "tea problem" didn't hit me until I saw the 1996 Doctor Who TV Movie where Sylvester McCoy sits around drinking tea at the begining. I suddenly thought "Hm...tea..." and I was gone. I've found myself unable to go a whole day without at least one or two cups.
Do you know what's in an English Christmas Dinner? I certainly didn't, until now. I didn't think they ate anything different then we do here, some turkey, some potatoes, that sort of thing. But aparently, according to my mother, this is what's actually in an English Christmas Dinner:
Standing Rib Roast
Roasted Brussel Sprouts
My apologies to those British people out there that may or may not want to kill me now, it's my mom's doing not mine (there's still a little American left in me, I used Mom not Mum) Anyway, it'll be an interesting Christmas over here, that's for sure.
So that's my life right now, trying to not sound too incredibly obsessed with Doctor Who (19 days, 20 hours, 29 minutes, 20 seconds) and the British in general. I wrote a 59 page Doctor Who script the other day though, so it doesn't look good. Anyway, hope you have a jolly good evening.