Doctor Who... Maybe I went a little overboard...

So I may or may not have been watching a lot of Doctor Who. What can I say, I got addicted when I had my asthma attack a few weeks ago. Well.. Last Saturday, (like day before yesterday), knowing that the end of David Tennant as The Doctor, I may have gotten a little over-enthused and had a mass marathon. 

In typical Amanda fashion, I got way too into it. Yelling, gasping, and laughing (loudly) at all the appropriate moments. And of course, also in standard fashion, Tessa caught me in the act of my ridiculous behavior. 

After much laughter, she decided that she would write to Doctor Who, and let him know that he ruined her life. 

The letter proceeds as follows: 

Sept 1, 2012

Dear Dr. Who (or rather THE Doctor, or even David),

      

     You may ask why, David... There is no need to explain much further than this, the content of this letter relates to the time of your life in the form of one, David Tennant. Now, I must confess my acquaintance with yourself and your adventures is quite limited- as in I have only witnessed 1 1/2 episodes of your life, the final ones of your brief existence as David (everything must be considered brief in the context of a 900 year old life, however, as you will see shortly, the brevity was still too long for me.) I must compliment you on your composure and sensible action during what must be the longest death march (pardon me, regeneration march) in all of history and all possible realities. It is only more impressive that you maintained such composure while billions of Masters laughed maniacally and Hell itself descended. Very impressive. This and all other pleasantries aside (how are you? This police box is larger on the inside, etc), I must turn to the serious purpose of my writing. 

   

     It seems you have strung along many women. However, from all I can gather, it seems the majority find some happy end- a subpar doctor (albeit more- er, expressive) sprung from a severed hand, erased memories and a wedding, adventures with Captain Jack and Mickey, a normal life with a 14 year old son (whom you save), and a successful book. All very fine happily ever afters. But there is one heart you've strung along (even if unwittingly) and crushed by regenerating. And there is one life you've ruined (that would be mine). The crushed heart? Not me. My roommate. If I could even begin to express the hours spent, even in the last 24 hours alone, watching your every step, rejoicing in your triumphs, laughing at your British (Scottish?) humor, gasping at your life's high suspense, and crying as she sees your pain- you could perhaps begin to understand the depth of her love, and consequently, the depth of her sorrow, her despair in losing.. you.. as David. She is so affected; she is mad for grief. How could you so selfishly regenerate leaving the heart of a young woman devastated- past, present and future, and thereby ruin her innocent roommates life- MY LIFE! I apologize, but I completely blame you. The thought of allowing you to live, hundreds, thousands, or bazillions of years without knowing the damage you've done- was unbearable. Your charms as David Tennant have done me great wrong. My only consolation is the potential of a me living free of this trauma in a parallel or alternate universe. You have two hearts! Would it have been too much to give Amanda one of them and spare me this sadness? 

  

     Thanks for possibly forever ruining the life of an innocent bystander. Congratulations on regenerating when death seemed a possibility every moment for 2 episodes, even if your new self caused some destruction and seemed keen on crashing. I hope you crashed. 

Geronimo,

       Tessa