If you have ever watched Doctor Who, for the love of all that is holy, do not take a CPR course.
Does the follow scene look familiar?
It’s because it’s an exact recreation of the first episode of the remake of Doctor Who where 9 and Rose destroy the Nestene Consciousness with a vial of Anti-Plastic.
If you don’t watch Doctor Who, essentially mannequins come to life and try to kill everyone. Just smile and nod.
As a devoted Whovian, you can imagine my horror as I walked in and saw these plastic terrors lying in rows on the floor with a grotesque maw where the face was supposed to be. Double that amount of distress when I realized the face was on my seat frozen in a seductive pout.
TRIPLE the agony when I found out I had to put my mouth on it, which seems not only hygienically iffy, but emotionally compromising.
I don’t know. Just me? Tell me this doesn’t freak you out a bit. You’re lying if it doesn’t. Or weird. Or both.
Anyways, the rest of the training was pretty uneventful, besides this place being out in the middle of nowhere in just about one of the sketchiest neighbourhoods I’ve ever gotten out of my car in a terrifyingly run-down old school with children’s drawing peeling off of the walls and flickering lights in the ceiling. I had a feeling that I was walking into a Saw trap.
“Hello, Cassandra. Let’s play a game.”
“What? Uh. What?”
“You didn’t put your blinker on before you made a left turn the other day.”
“Now, to survive, you’re going to have to give these four mannequins CPR. Muahahaha.”
“That doesn’t even make sense as a punishment. Dude, you’re losing your edge.”
I think my cat has freaking lost it. Like, really, really lost it. Like, he’s entered his happy place and his mental capacities have fluttered away lost it.
I caught him staring at the wall the other day. Not out the door or anything, he was literally sitting and staring at the wall. I went to my room for twenty minutes or so and came back downstairs and he was still there. I’m kicking myself for not having my phone on me to take a picture, but I swear on Matthew McConaughey’s rippling sixpack that it really happened.
Varenka has confirmed this suspicion that my cat has gone loco bananas. She came over on Tuesday evening after our studio’s crazy yoga dance party (which I’ll tell y’all about in more detail on Tuesday, but guys it was so amazing) for our pity party and we spent a solid five minutes watching my cat, who was draped across an armchair in the most uncomfortable looking position ever, lick the air. Not his nose, which dogs do with astonishing regularity. No. The air. Like a snake does.
I realize I casually skipped over the fact that Varenka and I planned and attended something called a pity party, which is our new term for making mojitos in our pajamas and watching Doctor Who and not discussing all of the distressing happenings in our lives. This is partially because I wanted to get the bit out about the cat first, and partially because I’ve been avoiding mentioning that I didnt get in to grad school this year.
And that’s all we shall say on that subject.
Anyways, so my cat has gone nutters and I’m pretty sure he dragged my precious baby boy down the rabbit hole with him because as I previously mentioned, Pepper PEED on me twice last week. He flipped over on his back for tummy rubs and peed right on my leg with the kind of accuracy that human males never achieve (if the average fraternity bathroom is anything to go by). I can only assume that the cat offered him his body weight in Beggin’ Strips for the dirty deed, because my smoodlywoodle wouldn’t do that to me unprovoked.
Patty Mayonnaise seems to be above picking sides at the moment, as always providing proof that girls of any species are smarter than boys.
So I’m cheating a little bit because the end of the 40 days program is technically tomorrow, but it’s Yoga Tuesday here on hnwcassandra, so deal.
It’s been a long, crazy journey to get here. Immediate thoughts? I feel good, internet. Physically good. I crave my practice more then ever. I feel lean, mean and strong on my mat. The fruit fast (although panic inducing) made me really crave certain foods, like tomatoes and avocados and brussel sprouts, and depend less on other foods, like Lean Cuisine and bacon. I still haven’t had a bagel yet because I’m still pretty sure once I do I will fall back into the deep rabbit hole that is bagelly deliciousness, baby steps here.
Spiritually? I don’t know. I’ll be dead honest, my meditation practice is still awful. I am a naturally twitchy person. I don’t sit well. The only times I can sit still for an extended period of time is when a) I’ve just painted my nails or b) a good episode of either Doctor Who or Battlestar Galatica is on – although let’s get real, all of the episodes of those shows are good.
Bottom line is, I’d absolutely do it again, in a year or two. I think my favorite part and the one worth coming back for is the community. For 40 days I had a group of people struggling with the same things I was struggling with, who I could call on at any time, facebook, phone, and practice with, and I feel like I share a bond with the people in my studio that I didn’t have before. I can fast or meditate or practice any time I choose, but during the 40 days there’s a sense of camaraderie that you can’t get anywhere else. There’s someone there not only to push you forwards, but to pick you back up.
It was a crazy ride, internet. If you ever get the chance to do it, I highly recommend it.
I recently went down to a bar in town and had a nerd off with some of my friends. We sat at the bar asking each other nerd culture questions and if you answered the question wrong, you had to drink. I should note that I was playing this with two of my friends while the rest of our group were trying very hard to not be associated with us. I should also note that I went out earlier that night for my mom’s birthday and we did sake bombs and the entire staff made fun of me for my inability to chug a sake bomb while my mother flawlessly downed three of them. I offer this anecdote so you get an idea of how bad I am at social drinking interactions.
Any who, the nerd-off questions ran the gamut from “what is the difference between a Slytheen and a Silurian” and “what is xyz in binary” and “verbally code a page in HTML using the following parameters”. All was well and good and socially embarrassing until we got into the quintessential argument of what constitutes nerdiness.
Oh god. I hate this question. It’s as bad as the “what is art?” question you have to answer in every art course ever. It’s a rhetorical question. Bugger off.
I like to think of geekdom and nerddom as two closely related types of phenomenon that should be considered together. In both cultures, the defining characteristic is an unusual level of obsession about something. Generally, geeks are obsessed about things that are not “useful” or likely to make them money or get them a mainstream job – T.V. shows, movies, and video games, for example. Nerds are obsessed about things you could consider more “useful” or intellectual- books, computers, programming, science, and so on. Obviously, there’s a lot of crossover between the two.
Honestly, though, shouldn’t we nerds be supporting each other’s nerdiness rather than competing about it? I hate it when people think you aren’t obsessed enough or nerdy enough because you haven’t seen XYZ show or read XYZ book. Honestly, pipe down. Maybe I haven’t yet but I will. What makes you the defining authority on that subject anyways? Your poorly done fandom tattoo? Your immense collection of overpriced memorabilia? Because it sure as hell isn’t your piss poor attitude, sport.
We nerds need to band together to support each other in our fandoms and obsessions, not gripe about people who aren’t nerdy enough or belittle others for not liking to same nerdy things. If you’re thinking that there’s a must-read checklist of nerddom, shut your face right now. If you say you’re a nerd, you’re a nerd, regardless if you specialize in ancient pottery types or Glee episodes. Sorted.
I am a self confessed Anglophile.
I realize no one is shocked or astounded by this confession. Well, at least no one who knows me in person. I could recite for you a long list of You-tubers from England and their individual merits. I have been known to slip into a sincerely ridiculous faux-English accent at times, to the point where I snobbishly differentiate between my Northern and Southern English accents, posh, hackney, Welsh and London. They are probably equally terrible. My favorite band, The Wombats, who are the best at everything ever, are all from Liverpool, and I will belt out the chorus of Tokyo (Vampires and Wolves) with a horrifically empathetic IF EWE LUFFF ME LET ME GOOOO BAK TO THAT BARRRE IN TO-KEY-YOOO.
It stands to reason, then that I would love British television. And good god, do I ever love British television. All of it including and especially Doctor Who. I even made my phone into a Tardis.
Some of y’all may feel inclined to call shenanigans on my fandom, because I actually only started watching Doctor Who in May of 2012. However, since that time I’ve watched all of the 9th, 10th and 11th Doctor’s series through twice and I’m currently working my way through the classics. I thought I might give you a few of the reasons why this show, for me at least, offers so much of what I find lacking in other series on the telly.
1. Moral Ambiguity – The Doctor is constantly struggling with the concept of right and wrong on this show. He strives to do the right thing at all times, but since the show is playing not only with space but with intersecting timelines, races, planets, creeds and even galaxies, what is “right” is sometimes incredibly complicated and obscure. This show makes you think about and challenge your own beliefs.
2. Complex Story Lines – The writer and producer of Sherlock, Steven Moffat, has been writing for Doctor Who and officially took the reins for the show in 2008. He’s well known for his intricately crafted and detailed plots and he does not disappoint. The twists and turns of each show often contain details that tie together entire seasons and span several story arcs.
3. Tension – I don’t know how they do it, but almost every episode has me sitting on the edge of my seat and watching through my fingertips. A few have made me cry (no shame). One made me scream so loudly my mom came sprinting up the stairs.
4. An Evolving Main Character – I love it when writers give their characters a little more bite to them than usual. Since the Doctor (not to give any serious spoilers away) is written in a way that allows a new person to take on the role when necessary, each of the 11 actors who have taken on the role in a new and refreshing light. Since the reboot, Doctor 9 was a tortured and dark man, 10 charismatic, dramatic and somewhat corrupted, and 11 has been funny, lighthearted, and utterly lovable. Each are refreshing and add new spice to a very old role.
5. Clever Humor – The show is extremely funny. From the terribly rendered early CGI to the random and ridiculous gags. Well-crafted and amazing and side-stitchingly funny, especially the particularly irreverent Doctor 11.
I know current Doctor Who fans are nodding in agreement, and non-believers are probably shaking their heads, but honestly, forget the sci-fi nonsense, the time travel, and the weirdness. It’s a damn good show. Get two episodes into Doctor 9, internet, and get back to me.
You shan’t be disappointed.