Still obsessed

OK, I just had to post some pics. Because I AM obsessed. Here's a particularly somber one; just after Rose and the Doctor watched her dad get run over.

Here's a particularly happy one! He does have a lovely wide grin.
This is from, um, the third episode, after the spaceship crashes in London. Lots of happy Doctor in this episode.
Same episode; he's about to give Rose her own key to the TARDIS.
A more pensive shot, from the second-to-last episode...
Ah, I didn't realize this would be so small!
So, I was feeling a little weird about how obsessed I am just now, which led me to think about obsession in my life and the fact that it really goes all the way back to childhood. Early childhood is a bit harder to define, but horses were certainly an all-consuming interest. And by my early teen years I was as rabid a Star Trek fan as could be found... in my own way, of course. I didn't sew my own uniform, or memorize swaths of dialogue (well, maybe just small swaths), but I adored Captain James T. Kirk with a deep passion. Wrote my first piece of fanfic, too, in sixth grade. Kirk gets to kiss the girl but Spock saves the day.

And later it was Collies, The Clash, Indiana Jones, Mozart... and then in my freshman year in college I first experienced Doctor Who. I promptly bought three balls of yarn and started knitting my scarf, and in due course, tripped over it repeatedly. In my sophomore year I gained a fanatical love of Star Fleet Battles and the computer game Robotron, both courtesy of my housemate and later object of obsession, Erik. The passion for Erik ended harmlessly after a semester, to be replaced by an adoration of Doug.

In more recent history I've had an obsessive adoration of a couple of singer/songwriters (Rufus Wainwright and Sondre Lerche), and I can't possibly leave out my darling Firefly, short-lived but much loved science fiction western. Ah, did I love Firefly. Mal, the tragic hero, trapped by his ethics and desires and honor, leading his motley band of personalities.

But the Doctor... the Doctor so knowledgeable, so wise. The Doctor, so lonely. Alone, the last of his race. Always outliving his friends, leaving them behind. Tormented by what he has done. But still with that childlike joy in the universe, that sense of wonder. The ability to laugh at it all, to crow with laughter as a spaceship crashlands in the Thames. The Doctor, finding an English shopgirl who dares to speak up to him. Who dares to face danger with him. She's got such heart, this Rose Tyler, she's got such a smile. He's so happy he met her.