January 16, 2010:
Actual Quote Tonight:
1-"I hate this! I hate not being in control! Why does this have to happen?"
2-"Because you actually like her."
1-"I know, that's what sucks!"
Argh. I stayed out till 2:00 am. Argh. I drank beer. Argh. I'm just working on this journal entry right now.
I'm the guy that takes his time. Probably a good thing, in most circumstances. But I wonder if I take my time because my brain is slow. Do I have synapses that aren't directly connected? Sometimes it feels like that. Like there's a gap between the information and the action. For example, I am told I need to be at a place at a time. So, I could be prepared well ahead of that time before I have to be at that place. But the time doesn't seem to register with me until I have to rush to the place, and...
Wow. F**k that example. That example went retarded very quickly. Its funny that I keep it, because I could delete that entire thing. But I won't. Its yet another example of how my feverish mind works.
I started my day with a brunch and, unexpectedly, a Doctor Who marathon. I did not plan for this marathon, nor did I truly appreciate what I had signed myself up for until afterward. It started by watched an older Doctor Who two-parter where he fights the "Devil." And this was on demand on my cable. And there sitting right beneath those eps in the que were the two episodes I wanted to see the most, and at the same time, DREADED seeing the most. "The End of Time" two parter.
The final episodes starring David Tennant as Doctor Who.
So I decided not to watch them.
No, you see, I hadn't watched ANY of the specials proceeding The End of Time. I decided to watch them all, right then and there. I jumped on my computer... and could not find any full length episodes anywhere. It was infuriating. One site wanted my credit card information. Two sites were sorry to tell me that my selection could not be found. One site wanted to play only the episodes with Christopher Eccelston. My Doctor Who fix eventually fell upon the shoulders of the site that is always the last bastion of hope for those bereft of entertainment in the ocean of the internet.
I even found a playlist of what I needed to watch to get caught up:
1. The Next Doctor
2. Planet of the Dead
3. The Waters of Mars
4. The End of Time
All these specials were cut into 6 parts, roughly 10 minutes each. Kind of annoying, but I considered it like a commercial break. I was even able to watch all of The Next Doctor in HQ, so that wasn't too bad. And the quality for the last two specials weren't bad either. Nobody was unrecognizable, and the action was still kickin' chicken.
Here's a quick spoiler free review of each special, plus the finale:
The Next Doctor was a lot of fun. And the story was very well put together. It felt like an episode, and you don't really miss The Doctor not having a companion, cuz David Morrisey's character is so enjoyable.
Planet of the Dead is really great. The TARDIS is barely in the episode, so it helps to add to the tension. Though this special does something that the Doctor Who show, as of the past 3 series, does a lot. Its kind of annoying, but nothing awful.
The Waters of Mars is genius. There is no other way for me to put it. Not only do you feel the ache of how alone he is now, but it finally answers the question of why the Doctor NEEDS a companion. And the writing is superb. The Doctor goes through an amazing character arch, and its all 100% believable.
The End of Time is tough to watch. And that's only because its painful knowing that this is the end of the line for this Doctor. And that's the entire point of this special. That not only does the Doctor know its the end of the line, but the VIEWER knows its the end. You can feel the meditation of mortality, and even though its scary and unfair, in the end, its not about how you die, but how you lived. Some people didn't like part one, but I actually liked it a lot. I thought they went together perfectly.
Bernard Cribbons does an amazing performance. He plays an old man that would dearly love to be the one to protect the Doctor. Who, I wouldn't doubt for a moment would gladly die to save him. Plus, Cribbons is US. He's our window as the audience. As the fans. As the people who love the Tenth Doctor and don't want to see him go. And you can feel his pain at ultimately not being able to change the outcome we all knew was going to take place, heck, to actually be directly involved with that outcome. John Simms is incredible. He plays the same character, but with a twist that only a great actor would have been able to get out of it. And David Tennant...
Wow. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Tennant is electric. And that's just such a cliche thing to say, but its true. You can feel the desperation of a man who doesn't want to die. You can feel him coming to terms with the inevitable. His joy for life. And that's what the Doctor is all about. Life. He absolutely loves being alive and in the moment. So the question this special asks is how does a man who loves being in the moment and breathing in life so voraciously deal with his final moment? His last breath? An end to all that he was?
And the answer is simple and perfect. Also, David Tennant will forever be one of my favorite actors alive. You could tell that he doesn't really WANT to leave the show, but more that he HAS to leave. And he left on an amazing note. One of the best endings ever.
....okay, unexpected Doctor Who rant aside, what else did I do?
I met up with an old friend from High School named Mike. It was interesting to catch up with him. So much has happened since 2001. The sheer magnitude made it hard to even know where to begin. We went to Taco Surf for dinner (see? I told you I like that place), and to catch up. We're at different places in our lives. With different situations and experiences. But we're still the same guys that we were in a lot of aspects.
I guess the oddest part was the realization that he knew me back then. "Back then" being when I was in High School. Its been awhile since anyone knew me back in High School. A lot of my friends are still very close friends with their High School friends, while me and mine drifted apart. Not out anything other than we just went to different circles. A lot of friends I have now, I made in College. But I don't have a lot of people that knew me when I was 16. Who knew me when I wore a ton of Hawaiian shirts. Or when I was writing my play. Or when I ran for ASB. Or when I hated taking Chemistry. Or when I, to my complete bafflement, made Top Student in Economics. If these sound like stories you haven't heard before, that's because I don't think about High School a lot. None of my friends now would get the reference.
I finished up dinner and dropped off Mike back at the place he's staying at. I then headed out to a bar with my friends Jamal and Chris. We went to a bar in Tustin called Godfathers. We drank an inordinate amount of Hefeweizen, and talked about the things buzzed young men talk about.
Topics of Conversation @ Godfathers: Girls, the East coast, apartments, mannerisms, wing-men, bad pick-up techniques, popcorn, why girls drive us mad, pizza recipes, absent friends, how to be a bastard without being a bastard, etc.
It was a good night, but I was out way more late than I had intended. We picked up Jack in the Box and headed to Jamal's. Unfortunately, we were missing two items. I then drove with Chris in his diesel car back to Jack In The Box to get said items, with me actually driving cuz Chris wasn't sure if he could drive. Did I mention I've never driven his car before? Its a weird machine, to say the least. I'm surprised we were able to accomplish our goal, with me trying to figure out why the friggin' gas pedal didn't do anything. (It did work, but you practically had to mash it to the floor). Very weird.
We watched Tosh.0 (which is actually enjoyable), and I was ready to go to sleep. Which is bad when you don't feel like sleeping over. I said good night and headed out. I hate driving and doing the sleepy "hard blink flutter." The kind where you blink really hard, and then flutter your eyelids for reasons that don't seem to help you at all. That was not fun.
I got home, lamented my soon-to-be late journal entry, and passed out.