after one long season of waiting

I'm declaring this my official day off this week. The rest of the week and on into next is going to be my last hurrah (and by hurrah I mean torture by UofC). I already spent most of the morning trying to sort out my living situation and finding a few more places to send my resume... and covering my new laptop in stickers. It's still a little unbalanced, but at least it's decorated now.

So now I'm going to sit here and muse about my TV fandoms, because I've had a few random comments itching at the back of my mind for a while now, and I should probably write them down.

( So yeah... Heroes Finale... )
,
It seems like a lot of my problems lately are with pacing. Probably because that's what's on my mind right now, since I'm trying to figure it out for myself. And this is a sentence between these two so no one accidentally goes from one paragraph to the other and accidentally spoils themselves for something. Not that this week's Doctor Who really has much to spoil.

( 42 is, oddly, not the answer )

And because I am like a deranged doting parent when it comes to new electronics: ( Look at my adorable new laptop awww )

It's my last day in Canada. That always makes me sad. I've had since a wonderful week of lazing about and getting very little done on my BA and fretting and freaking out and purchasing Daleks (well, one Dalek), attending pow-wows (actual-type, not metaphorical), leaping over chairs at socialist meetings, and being jealous of chocolatemoose and her Science Centre, which is the coolest place anyone I know has gone to high school (goshdarn her). And being acutely aware that it must be weird to always have something like the U.S. looming to the south, huge and cumbersome and emitting noxious pop-culture and conservative rays. (Though it's possible they're noxious pop-culture and conservative particles. I'm not sure.) But it's certain one country can have enough of its own in those departments, without, say, the U.S. flag ending up in the centre between the Canadian and POW flags, where it certainly doesn't belong when it's visiting Canada.

And, now that I've relaxed about my grades (freaking UofC... freaking me and my bad instincts for grades), I've got ideas for my BA again (which are either due to (re)watching the first bit of Heroes last night, and random bits of the BSG miniseries, or me relaxing. Or general insanity. Or possibly all the reading I did yesterday for my Graphic Novel class, which had some lovely bits on censorship and media self-censorship and an article that name-dropped SCAD's 'Sequential Art' department like, fifteen times, which amused me to no end). So I fully intend to write on the bus into the wee hours of the morning (and by that I mean for approximately an hour, because that's all the longer my battery lasts anymore)... provided I don't have to sit next to someone (because then I'd worry about bothering them).

And I've had entirely too much time to get re-addicted to the internet, like the wonders of Flickr and active fandoms on LJ. (It's a reaffirmation of the functioning of the internet that the one photo of mine on flickr that's gotten the most views/comments is of our cat The Fonz. Though it is an adorable picture of her. I'm going to have to steal one of our cats when I get my own place.) And I finally got rid of a lot of the anime-type communities on my friendslist that I no longer pay attention to, and now I've replaced them with... TV. Actual... TV shows. That I watch. I haven't been in actual-TV fandoms since the X-Files. (But everything goes around in circles.)

I'm assuming I'm not the only one worried by the trailers for the new season of Doctor Who, though. What with the kissing. And the whole... personal ad feel to them. (That kissing had better involve being possessed, just like both of the ones Rose got.) Fine, I'll admit to being sad at the end of the second season. I thought I could adjust to a new companion. Because it'd give Ten a good reason to be more doctorly, rather than being slightly subordinate to Rose in the what's-going-on department from time to time. (Okay, so that really only happened here and there in the first bits of the second season, but... still. I prefer Doctors who are more self-assured. Except for Eight. Fine, I like Eight. You can flog me now.) I don't worry that David Tennant can't pull this off... but... ack. I think my trust in Russel T. Davies was somewhat unhinged by Torchwood. I worry. I worry lots. (The Doctor is asexual! Asexual! And if I keep saying it, it'll be true, even though it hasn't been since Eight! Goshdarn half-human timelord! Though, the new series keeps overwriting previous canon at random so, whatever. Yay, time travel.) But fine... I'm looking forward to the Shakespeare episode. And am... in general... looking forward to having Doctor Who again come next weekend. Woo! (It'll make up for the fact that there'll be no more Battlestar for me for a while after this (?) weekend. Woe.)

In other, semi-related news, I need to quash this urge to write Heroes fic. Especially the bizarre, bizarre urge I have to try to get Nathan Petrelli's voice down. What's going on brain, for seriously? Nathan Petrelli? Of all people? (Fine, I want to write Claude, too. And Hiro. But of everyone, I don't think I could nail Hiro down properly. Because he's one of the most adorable characters I've ever seen on television, and I don't want to injure that by writing him.)