Is that a TARDIS in your train station or are you just happy to see me?
Er....David Tennant isn't by any chance in the United States at the moment, is he? Because Bill thinks he saw him in a train station in Philly yesterday. He did not get close enough to hear the man speak, unfortunately (which probably would have made the identification a lot easier), but I thought I'd put there out there.
Me: If it was David Tennant, though, I'm going to make fun of you forever for not getting his autograph.
Bill: Or a DNA sample.
Me: Oh, please. I am not that crazy a fangirl.
Bill:
Me: SHUT UP.
*
I have, incidentally, composed the following LJ entries in my brain over the past 48 hours:
1. A tongue-in-cheek obituary for my brain/creativity, which has gone the way of the dodo since becoming a mom.
2. Several letters from Cleo to the Management, complaining about the deplorable service in recent months.
3. A far too-cheerful entry from Andrew, determined to show that he's not half as hopped up on sugar as some would believe, and that his intentions toward the cat are entirely honorable.
4. A fanciful description of our excursion to the Dulles Plane Pull this afternoon, following Bill's departure to parts unidentified. (In short: neat. I always wanted to go, and we always had something going on, and then there we were, at the plane pull, so we went, and I got to watch a bunch of really large men pull an even larger plane using a rope. I totally want to try that now.)
5. Another listing of seriously cute things Andrew has done recently (unbeknownst to me, he slipped out of his bedroom during his nap the other day, walked across the hall with his Bunny into my room, and proceeded to fall asleep on my side of the bed, where he then napped for an hour and a half; no idea when he did this, I found him when I went upstairs to fetch the monitor).
I can assure you that all of these "entries" were utterly delightful, witty, and rip-roaringly funny. Trust me, you would have been giggling like mad. In fact, I dare say that they would have been so wonderful, you would have shared them with friends and I would have gained an instant following of an extra hundred readers or so. The end result of course would have been a movie contract, and then I'd get all huffy and arrogant, and start doing product placement in my entries, and Andrew would probably drop Cleo and start dating the tigers at the zoo, and we'd all in end up in rehab or something before being featured on a second-rate VH1 "Where are they now" episode.
....So it's probably just as well that I didn't write those. Whew, that was close.
Me: If it was David Tennant, though, I'm going to make fun of you forever for not getting his autograph.
Bill: Or a DNA sample.
Me: Oh, please. I am not that crazy a fangirl.
Bill:
Me: SHUT UP.
*
I have, incidentally, composed the following LJ entries in my brain over the past 48 hours:
1. A tongue-in-cheek obituary for my brain/creativity, which has gone the way of the dodo since becoming a mom.
2. Several letters from Cleo to the Management, complaining about the deplorable service in recent months.
3. A far too-cheerful entry from Andrew, determined to show that he's not half as hopped up on sugar as some would believe, and that his intentions toward the cat are entirely honorable.
4. A fanciful description of our excursion to the Dulles Plane Pull this afternoon, following Bill's departure to parts unidentified. (In short: neat. I always wanted to go, and we always had something going on, and then there we were, at the plane pull, so we went, and I got to watch a bunch of really large men pull an even larger plane using a rope. I totally want to try that now.)
5. Another listing of seriously cute things Andrew has done recently (unbeknownst to me, he slipped out of his bedroom during his nap the other day, walked across the hall with his Bunny into my room, and proceeded to fall asleep on my side of the bed, where he then napped for an hour and a half; no idea when he did this, I found him when I went upstairs to fetch the monitor).
I can assure you that all of these "entries" were utterly delightful, witty, and rip-roaringly funny. Trust me, you would have been giggling like mad. In fact, I dare say that they would have been so wonderful, you would have shared them with friends and I would have gained an instant following of an extra hundred readers or so. The end result of course would have been a movie contract, and then I'd get all huffy and arrogant, and start doing product placement in my entries, and Andrew would probably drop Cleo and start dating the tigers at the zoo, and we'd all in end up in rehab or something before being featured on a second-rate VH1 "Where are they now" episode.
....So it's probably just as well that I didn't write those. Whew, that was close.