Et In Arcadia Ego

I've a funny feeling that Ruby is going to be my little savior.

I think my medication is finally working, which is brilliant and awful in equal measure.

To be honest, it makes me think of Bevenita. She'd been on something similar for something like three years as they passed her around different docs and waiting lists. Now, she had some seriously impressive problems - I'm just a good ole' melancholic invert, while I gather she had the whole hog of voices and pyromania. Proper problems. She expressed frustration that her emotions were trapped, and she was just drugged up instead of being cured.

At this point, I can't tell whether it's the symptom or cure - depression causes a feeling of detachment and unenthusiasm; but the drugs are designed to numb everything down and limit extreme emotion. I feel like I'm trapped in a glass bubble about 2 metre in diameter, and because the sensation is new I'm guessing it's the dopey pills.

Depression saps your motivation and leaves you unable to do anything. The drugs have a similar effect. A good example would be eating. I eat pretty well, but on bad days I simply cannot be bothered to make food happen. If I'm sitting somewhere well, it'll have to wait - it's a very negative, rather petty bit of braincode that loops until I really am very hungry. Whereas the drugs are a bit more like pax or bliss (from Serenity and Doctor Who respectively), inducing a general feeling of wellbeing and contentment in which food is a rather academic possibility. Depression kills your memory and attention span. But I'm pretty sure it's the drugs which make other things seem so far away that attention is difficult, and so lacking in definition that they fall out of my brain.

I'm not complaining. Or at least, I am because it's an awful sensation, but only in a logical sense. I know that I am wrong, but I don't feel wrong. I am indifferent to people. I'm not really feeling enjoyment, or guilt, or anything much. My Cleggface has improved, because I can no longer effectively link up words and feelings. I've observed a beautiful ice-cold unthrillability - whether that to be to my sister swerving the car, or ridiculously huge stressful situations which I could put to one side as I might ignore the last few peas on a plate. For example, my flight back to Sarnia on Wednesday was scuppered by fog - we got all the way there, but couldn't land, and went all the way back. At Gatwick, we hung around for 20 minutes for our luggage, then some 45 for hotels to be booked, then at least another hour in the cold for a taxi, and then at 5am the next day we did it all again. Wasn't really bothered at any point. I know I'm customarily unflappable, but I also know that being stranded away from home and trying to do public transport are two of my big triggers, and all this with an inimicus scholarum as my only companion.

I've a lifetime of morality which is aware that this renders me effectively inhuman.

I feel OK. Not happy, but OK. Nice. All the adjectival thrust that the metatron of the English Tongue can conjure with the majestic word: nice. For example, today was mother's day and I didn't get a card.I forgot. Or rather, I had a marvellous idea for something at the beginning of the week, but time lapsed. Oceanic got her two bunches of flowers and a massive card in a box. I knew I felt awful, and I knew that I had hurt people's feelings and that this too made me feel awful - but a soap half glimpsed would have yanked my heartstrings more, and the only thing that really bothered me was the fact it wasn't really bothering me. It's still on my mind. But I'd be lying if I said I actually "felt" bad, in the strictest sense of the verb. I can still be sad, but it's a sadness inside the bubble - it condenses then drips back around my feet. I'm worried to overstate it as the effect of the happy pills, because I recognise this as similar to Mortimer's mental state and modus operandi. It feels different, though, to his, and I've not got the enthusiasm or his characteristic directness of purpose. I also feel like my reaction times have slowed. Or more strictly, my perception times - once I've percieved, my reactions are fine.

One good thing is that my imagination is still around. It takes a bit of serious concentration, and I'm even less likely to be producing anything concrete than usual. But I can still delve down to my clubhouse, and I've just written some very exciting scenes. Another interesting side effect is that my dreams make far more sense - more cause-and-effect. My dreams used to be notorious for starting an interesting plot, and then getting sidetracked.

As little as I like it, it's a really helpful support. I am fairly sure I'm safe now, which I haven't been for a while. That is good. But I know I'm not better. Like Bevenita did, I know I've just been put into hibernate mode. And while this gives me a very high-walled sandbox to throw my toys around in, it's almost like using that sandbox to figure out glass-blowing in. I feel like I'm cut off from the pain and misery which I'm actually going to need to be able to access. Which is why sportsmen shun painkillers.

Still, I'm not complaining too much for now. I'm cultivating patience instead. And learning Ruby which, as I said, may turn out to be my little savior.

Ruby is a programming language, chiefly popular for building web-things but it's also possible to build proper program-things in it as well. The learning curve is simultaneously shallow and steep. On the one hand, programming is pretty darn simple at it's most basic level. However, the amount of assumed knowledge is immense - for example, I downloaded the language then floundered for a few hours until I pieced together how you did anything with it. Now I can make it do very simple things, I'm floundering at finding a program which lets me create a pretty user interface. I am sure I am ultimately going to flounder a third time when I try to turn my code into an actual program. The information is out there, but not in one place. And I'm still using phrases like "web-things" and "program-things".

By some luck, I happen to have picked upon a programming language which is universally lauded as fun, clear, even beautiful. One of the most vocal proponants of the language is a mad genius, who created zine-style instruction leaflets filled with cartoon foxes, before mysteriously disappearing. Even better, the syntax seems to me very much like Latin in places - subjects, objects, verbs. Just the way you identify the parts of the sentence, and read what they are doing. Ruby, like Latin, has immense periods filled with innumerable parenthesis and subclauses. Cicero would be proud.

Why? Oh, I'm easily amused by learning random new skills I'll never follow through on. But it's making me happier than I expected. Like, smiling and everything. More than once! It's worse than Avon in series four. I'm having difficulty moving, motivating. I enjoyed not having the web because the web is the perfect outlet for what "I" crave - numb, vaguely involving nothingness. The internet is much like dreaming - pictures you don't have to focus on, and the dreamlike logic of links which chains one to TVTropes for hour upon hour. Programming is sedentry and fairly repetitive, so it actually performs the same task pretty well.

But unlike the web, it helps as well as hinders. What I need is my mind to be constantly stimulated. I find myself dozing and drifting during nonchallenging conversation. People have got to be asking questions, disagreeing, debating - if they're just conveying information then I find it hard to pay attention. Yeah I know, I always do that. But I'm trying extra hard to right now, and it still won't stick. Same goes with dull movies, music, whatever. And programming needs sharp thinkining as well as persistance. A perfect combination! It suckers my time lazily, while feeding my brain with pintacs. Plus, it's also really satisfying, because I'm smart and it's easy (at present) so it's nice getting the gratification. But not under pressure. It's different to the gratification of a good mark: the success is mine and mine alone, and for it's own sake.

What I've done so far is very minor. I'm able to program 1970s level computer games and that's it. I designed one based on the story of Echo and Narcissus, which I'm regarding more as art than anything else. You are Echo. And another one with the Prisoner startup spiel. Where am I? In the village! Basic nonsense, it's quite fun.

while Emily !=recovered
Ruby.learn
end

Recovery can wait.

1. Utilitarianism doesn't work
If "the greatest good for the greatest number" was applied universally, then you get some sticky moral problems - and not simply "if I have to blow up New York to save the world, then is the world really worth saving?". The Peeping Tom scenario gives us a happy voyeur, and a happy woman unware she is being watched. The right thing to do here is obviously to stop the peeping, but under strict utilitarianism it wouldn't make sense: the woman would be unhappy to learn she was watched, and the voyeur's fun would be taken away. And that's why utilitarianism doesn't work. Or something.

2. Carrots used to be purple
They were bred orange by some patriotic Dutch guy about 500 years ago.

3. You can milk an extra six working hours out of a day
All you have to do is work out what hours you are most productive. For me, that's 9 in the morning to about 12 midday. Work as normal. When you hit the end of productive time, turn back your watch and work the same hours over again. And then do it a third time. It's amazing how this simple trick of the mind really does make it seem like you've perfected the art of time travel. Don't attempt this more than one day in a row, or prepared to be exhausted and confused. As Calypso pointed out, you are effectively giving yourself jetlag....

4. A man can be beaten to death with a copy of the Big Issue
Or London Paper, or Metro, or any magazine given half a minute's work. It's known as a Millwall club or Millwall brick, and makes me feel about 0.8% safer walking home at night.

5. It's worth making a point, even if it's pointless
I've always rejected vegitarianism because it doesn't make a difference. It still doesn't make a difference: my sacrifice isn't bettering the life of a single chicken, nor extending that of a single cow. That doesn't matter any more: I do it because it is better to do so. I think a lot of human apathy would be cured by that mindset.

6. Artists everywhere!
Feliks Topolski, the Decemberists, Rainer Warner Fassbinder, the Manic Street Preachers, Lewis Klahr, Amanda Palmer, Peter Tsscherkassky, Bat for Lashes and Martin Arnold. To name a few.

7. IMAX is cinema
Why settle for anything smaller?

8. Dinner tastes best after 8PM
At home, we tend to have an early dinner. I've never known why. Late tea means late lunch, extending the productive working hours in the morning. The rest of the evening after Late tea can be given to chatting, and not interrupted because there's no time for something more constructive. And late tea doesn't interfere with Doctor Who broadcast times.

9. Other people don't matter
I have the right to wear what I like, love who I want to, choose my appearance, my presentation, my life, and damn the rest. I know I've never really cared about opinions, but now I really don't care. It's awesomely liberating. Before I went to London, a few of my relatives worried how I'd cope in such a cold, unfriendly atmosphere - but there's no where free-er than a place where no-one gives a damn is.

10. Twitter
Nuff said.

11. You can get from Victoria to St Pancras in under 20 minutes
Without a mobile phone, Oyster card, cash or bankcard. Go figure.

12. You can get tickets for sold-out plays at less than face value...
...provided you have the strength, nerve and patience to queue in the early morning cold.

13. Patrick Stewart can't act on stage
I'm about to be shouted down here, but I'm sorry: I don't get it. I saw him in Hamlet, against David Tennant. Strictly, my mind should have been going "it's Doctor Who!" - but it didn't, and after five minutes he was simply Hamlet. Patrick Stewart, however, remained Patrick Stewart and I didn't like his interpretation. Similarly in Waiting for Godot, against a man who will always be Gandalf to me, I barely even remembered it was Ian McKellan under the top hat - whereas again, the other actor was always firmly in mind.

14. Butler's Wharf and Shad Thames
There are lots of cool places in London, but the Southbank is my second home and this part especially. Doctor Who filmed there in the 80s, but that's not what keeps drawing me back. Several reasons have since occured to me, all of them weird, but agree the place has great atmosphere?

15. Everyone sounds better live
The way to appreciate a band is to actually see them. Fan for life.

16. Pokemon was actually a Gameboy game, before a TV show or card game
Apparently, I'm the only person who didn't already know this.

17. Current 93 is the ultimate test of nerve
"The huge tree bubbles in its arms / And long processions / Kill the kings and cover / The babies in soap paradise / Pure glass in the cactus smile / Of the Madonna of Chandeliers..."
I can cope about 8 tracks into the album before giving up a shuddering wreck. The one time I actually got to 15, the computer crashed as protest.

18. Doctor Who fans are nuts
Yes, you are the only one under 20. Yes, you are strangely female. And yes, you are the only one without that half-vacant stabbity stare beloved of tramps and bus-weirdos everywhere. Be afraid, be very afraid.

19. Movies and TV shows set "in London" are rarely ever filmed there
Feeling homesick when you only have a very nebulous concept of "home" is a strange experience. Right now, "home" tends to be groups of people, not places. But as I treat London as a living entity (like the dreaming city from Sandman), it does come under that definition. I've found myself getting really, really excited whenever it turns up in movies. Only to have a bucket of cold water dashed upon me when I realise it's only central Cardiff and some very clever editing. Once you live there, you can tell - because they shoot like I shot Mordor on Cobo Beach. Tight angles, lots of cuts, no recognisable landmarks. A few stock establishing shots of major landmarks. It only bothers me because I want it to be proper London so much.

20. I was right about the direction of sunrise over the Thames
Always have been, always will be.

Apparently my mama is concerned that I'm not spending enough on food. Now it is true I'm trying to live as cheaply as possible, partly because of a thrifty upbringing, partly because I'm horribly aware of the sheer cost of being at uni and it makes me feel martyrlike and undeserving - and partly because I'm suffering corset guilt. Not that I didn't do exactly the right thing by buying it, not that it doesn't look and feel brill - but it does make me unhappy in the brain-finance department.

So yes, I have been trying to live as cheaply as possible to compensate, at least in my own mind. But the comment has in turn made me worried about my eating habits. I'm not eating badly...am I? I'll be the first to admit my meals are irregular. I rarely have three big meals a day, and sometimes my appetite will swell or vanish entirely. You know what us absent minded geniuses are like, getting distracted and forgetting to eat - but I'm aware of that, and I was under the impression I was doing OK. So, for my own peace of mind even if not yours as well:

I always have breakfast, milk and cereal - and just last week I upgraded from "whatever Sainsburies have on offer" to looking for healthy cereal with oats and bits of fruit. Alternately, breakfast will be healthy, protein-filled homous on fattening, cheap crumpet. Until recently, this would be accompanied by a fruit smoothie comprising at least one, but normally two fruits, combined with fruit juice. I never miss breakfast.

Lunch depends on where I am, but I'm committed to cheap lunch because buying meals in Central London causes me miserly pain. If I have to eat in the city, then my first stop is Tescos - either I buy cheese and a loose roll, a box of strawberries/rasberries or if I'm feeling lazy, a cookie. Occasionally a pasta box, or if I've thought about it, Quorn sausage rolls. None of these are as expensive as, say, a wrap or packed sandwich or eating in a cafe. On Tuesdays, I eat courtesy of Graze, who send me a nice box of healthy fruits, nuts and organic oddities, both filling and healthy. If I eat at home, it's either a version of breakfast or of dinner - bread goes off too quickly for me to get it. If I spend more than £2 on lunch, it's a weird day. And now I'm worrying because Roxana always comments that I'm not eating enough when we eat out...

And then dinner - I tend to have a small snack dinner at 5ish, and then something cooked at 8 or 9. Usually, some combination of pasta/rice with tomato sauce, fake meat, and a piece of fruit. Pizza, sometimes. I worked out stir fry last week, and I've just discovered the joy of canned chickpeas. Sometimes there are carrot sticks with humous. If I'm lucky, Calypso or Sustenus will be cooking. Sometimes just cereal again. Dinner is where I get lazy, but it's OK because I'm the only one eating it - and I have great fortitude when it comes to eating the same thing every few days. And I don't tend to snack.

You only get to hear about my food when it gets weird - when breakfast is dark chocolate on weetabix soaked in Baileys, when I haven't eaten for two days, when I've slaughtered some of those who could not flee in time and roast them on skewers. The days you don't hear about me eating cereal with orange juice are the days on which I am eating normally. Honest.

MSN have posted a list of 11 tips to becoming a movie snob. I'm checking how I measure up:

1. Always refer to films by their original foreign language titles. So it’s Ringu, not The Ring, Cicade de Deus, not City of God and Wo Hu Cang Long, not Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon. If you are watching a remake, spend the whole film grumbling about how much better the original was.

Don't always do it - I'd say about 50% of the time. Depends on whether I can pronounce the foreign title, whether I can remember it, who I'm talking to and the context it's being discussed. Some films just sound better with their original title - no one refers to Das Boot as "The boat". I am a stickler for original language though - why anyone would put themself through dubbing instead of subtitles I will never understand. I've been known to grumble about remakes...

2. Never eat popcorn. For you it is a symbol of the mass produced Hollywood trash that clogs your beloved cinema. If you need sustenance, you might occasionally quaff a chai latte and crunch a few wasabi peanuts. But very, very quietly.

Guilty as charged, m'lud! I hate everything about the popcorn industry! It's overpriced (admittedly because the cinemas make very little off the films) and I hate the way they've successfuly convinced people they can't enjoy movies without munching. That connection is the bit that annoys me the most, not the rustling noises - I wouldn't dream of distracting myself with food in the cinema, not to mention others! Plus, with films getting longer and longer, you buy food you need a drink, you need a drink you need...the one exception I'll make is for energy drinks and wake-me-up foods at late night showings or movie marathons. But that is all.

3. Read all the reviews before you see the film. Make a note of any obscure references and in-jokes, and point them out to your fellow cinemagoers. They’ll thank* you for it. (*or hate)

Now I must protest at this! Firstly, I make very very sure not to read reviews before seeing films. I hate it when films get tainted by things like that. I find it very hard to watch "great movies" sometimes, because I'm distracted by how good they are supposed to be. They never measure up until a second viewing. And secondly, I find the suggestion I would research the obscure references beforehand insulting to snobdom - naturally, I always spot them myself. You don't get an overweening sense of self-importance otherwise. If it's a film I'm looking forward to, I'll have read up in the run up to the film - and in those cases, yes I'll admit to bashing people with trivia afterwards. But they love it...

4 - When organising your DVD collection, alphabeticise by director. Or, for real kudos, try doing it by cinematographer.

Hahahahaha. Director? Cinematographer? Don't be ridiculous!

I arrange by SUBGENRE. Sci fi, to scary sci fi - to horror (in order of scariness), to horror comedy, to comedy (in order of hilarity), to pitifully amusing blockbusters (Charlies Angels et al) and so on. War movies are between historical drama and thrillers, with a sub-section for epics, and they are arranged in chronological order by date of conflict.

And the worst thing is, you think I'm kidding...

5. Start using words like oeuvre and jejune in everyday conversation. Nobody really knows what they mean, but they sound awfully impressive. When discussing any group of films, even the Rambo series, refer to them as “canon”.

Maybe I'm less snob than obsessive fan? I have never used oeuvre or jejune in my life. But I do regularly refer to jump cuts, reverse dolly zooms, all manner of technical lingo - and can recite most of the BBFC's catagories and regulations. The word "canon" peppers my conversation like an AK-47. I sometimes even think of my own life in terms of what counts as canonical...

6. Treat all blockbusters as metaphors. Armageddon, for instance, is a devastating critique of American phallocentric imperialism. Bruce Willis, representing the military, violates the asteroid ( a poor developing nation) with his big steel drill. Titanic, meanwhile, is an allegory for the collapse of the Lithuanian cheese industry.

What, when we're not being baselessly nasty about them? I do do this a lot, to all films - its just the way my mind works. I did also try to argue that Air Force One was subversive Communist propaganda once, but I think that was my brain refusing to accept it really was as dumb as it looked.

7. Drag your friends to revivals of Charlie Chaplin or Jacques Tati movies and laugh uproariously at the jokes. (if you can’t find any jokes, laugh at random, no-oine will know the difference). When your friends take you to Jim Carrey or Seth Rogen’s latest, sit stony faced.

Oh I'm a little guilty of this. I did actually once drag friends to see a Buster Keaton marathon with live piano accompaniment. And I did laugh uproriously, but fortunately so did they. Sherlock Jnr. is recommended to everyone. Sure, it's a silent film, but some of those gags are just so audacious and fresh. And I do tend to dodge modern comedies, although I freely admit some probably have merit.

8. Dress the part. Your preferred attire: polo neck, casual blazer (with copy of Sight and Sound prominently displayed in pocket) slacks, and a leather manbag.

Never! I want some polo necks, but only for 60s kudos. I read Sight and Sound once but found it really boring because I hadn't heard of any of the films.

9. Obviously, you must never, ever watch the Oscars. But that shouldn’t stop you from drawing up exhaustive lists of the obscure films that ought to have won.

I think everyone knows where I stand on the Oscars.

10. Make a list of little-known works by great directors and adopt them as your favourites. Scorsese’s greatest movie? Kundun, of course. Kubrick’s finest hour? The Killing, obviously. Spielberg? It was all downhill after Duel. And so on.

Not deliberately. But I do do this. My preferred Martin Scorcese film is Mean Streets or Age of Innocence. You'd be hard pressed to find six people, who aren't my mum, to agree with me on the latter.

11. Grow a goatee. This will give you something to stroke while discussing the French new wave.

Tried it. But they made me shave it off for P.E. last year...fact which does not leave this room: I have never seen a French new wave film.

I had to do this daft thing for Facebook, otherwise the Toasty Demon of Chain Letters would have fried my ears with eggs for his breakfast. And very much enjoyed it, because talking about myself is what I do best. But somewhat sheepish about other people actually having to read it.


1 - I'm an obsessive collector. You'd never guess by the state of my room, but when it comes to books/films/trading cards I love nothing better than a neatly ordered, colour-coded list.

2 - my new years resolution was to stop letting people give me carrier bags in shops. I'm kinda sticking to it.

3 - Milk is my favourite foodstuff in the world. I go to sleep, looking forward to my milky cereal in the morning, it's the only reason I get out of bed and I can get through a litre very, very quickly.

4 - I like to claim that I don't have a favourite Doctor, and while I do love all ten more or less equally...the truth is I probably do. I'm not saying more than that.

5 - I can't listen to the song "Nights in White Satin", because no matter when or where I hear it, I burst into tears. I'm still not sure why.

6 - Where am I? In the Village. What do you want? Information. Whose side are you on? That would be telling. We want information...information...information... You won't get it! By hook or by crook, we will. Who are you? The new Number Two. Who is Number One? You are Number Six. I AM NOT A NUMBER! I AM A FREE MAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

7 - I still haven't seen Citizen Kane, don't like Hitchcock and am bored by Spielburg

8 - I currently own 37 copies of the Picture of Dorian Gray. Most wanted list: an original, preferably signed; a copy of the Lippincots magazine in which it was originally printed; one in a non-Roman writing system; a children's edition with all the nasty bits taken out. If Disney can sanify Hunchback of Notre Dame...!

9 - If my campus were to catch on fire right now, I would rescue: Aurinko, my copies of Planet of Fire, Just War and Sands of Time; my stack of five Dorian Grays I've bought since being here; my TARDIS carry case with my entire figure collection; my notebooks and laptop and The Game. Possibly my scarves too, and particular pieces of jewellry with strong sentimental value if I could spot them. If I could only grab three things, then it would be my Dorians, Aurinko and diaries/notebooks.

10 - Worst places in the world? Ellis Island Immigration Centre, Bodmin Gaol and the Maughan Library.

11 - I love bad taste, kitchy, retro rubbish. Alarmist movies about the terror of drugs, or Russians. Cold War stuff full stop. Posters which should know better: I'd love a "my doctor smokes Camels", or something with a glamorous happy housewife smiling about her new plastic toaster. I already collect religious rubbish - "Now and the Near Future Prophecised", an alarmist cult book aboiut how the world will end in 1977, complete with diagrams of the apocalypse, is the prize of my collection.

11b When I write or type the word doctor, even in an innocent context, I always find myself accidentally capitalising it.

12 - If I thought I could get away with it, I'd like to collect innocently racist memrobilia of the 30s-60s - not hardcore tasteless genuinely BNP stuff, you understand. Orignal non-clean Enid Blighton books, black-and-white minstrel show LPs, gollywog dolls. But I'd be too worried about offending someone or having them misunderstand my motives. I like these things because it's only in the past decade we as a society have genuinely agreed this is an unacceptable way to view any group. Yet in the 40s and 50s, it was taken for granted that it was OK. There's an early Doctor Who episode which actually uses that firebrand n-word as part of a children's rhyme. I'm pretty sure my mum still has a gollywog somewhere in the attic: this wasn't very long ago.

I think this is a very powerful thing that the world needs to remember - like not giving women votes or locking up gays in the 1800s, or keeping slaves in the 1700s, or abusing your peasants in the 1200s, every society has it's own 100% accepted values which with hindsight, are completely shocking. I wonder what the future will think when they look back at our time; I wonder what facet of modern society they will bash their heads at, and wonder "...but how could anyone ever believe that...?" in the same way we regard past practices. And that's why I want to collect.

13 - I can't be concice about anything.

14 - my favourite swear word is "barstool". It comes from the contractully-obliged version of Hot Fuzz where all the swearing is overdubbbed - "funking", "peas and rice" (for "Jesus Christ") - and my favourite, "cut it out you silly barstool!" to overdub "bastard".

15 - Roger Delgado was, is and always will be the hottest man in sci fi. So say we all!

16 - I'm not about to convert, so don't get alarmed; but I think the Wiccan rule "Do what you like as long as it harms none" is very powerful and one I want to live by. "none", in my book, includes yourself and the natural world.

17 - Pianists: either I fall in love with them, or I want to rip their ears off. Depends. I have been known to get jealous of automatic keyboards.

18 - Calypso, who lives in Reading, has offered to take me to see its famous prison, made legendary in a poem by it's most famous inmate. I don't know if I should go. I've a feeling I would overreact. I would visit his grave in Paris, if I thought I could do it without the services of Kleenex.

19 - Oasis by Amanda Palmer. PLAY IT ON THE RADIO! BOYCOTT THE COMPANIES! And down with Prop 8 too.

20 - I'm unhappy that I can no longer buy taramasolata. It's fish based, so goes off within two days - there's no way I can eat that much on my own. And because it contains wheat, dad can no longer help me eat it at home. I am living a cod-free existance...

21 - I can't stand Monopoly or card games. A good game, in my book, should provoke conversation not competition - the aim should be not to win, but to have a good time playing. My favourite game is my own Doctor Who board game, not just because it's mine and I'm proud, but because it's tailored to avoid the elements of other games that bore me.

22 - if you want a reaction, use the words "Michael Grade" or "palantir" in my presence.

23 - If you want to hear something weird, engage me on the topic of fiction. It's my genuine belief that Frodo is twice as real as Britney Spears, Gallifrey more real than Paraguy and that all things imagined take on physical existance. Ask me why if you fancy a laugh sometime.

24 - I think the Doctor is well dressed. I have, in the past, happily incorporated celery into my look (not a good idea, reeks something rotten - see below), have my own Season 18 scarf and most recently purchased a fab pair of replica Colin Baker trousers. Top of my "wants" list is a ? Umbrella, a proper cricketing jumper and/or jacket (but only if it swishes when I dash down corridors in it) and Jon Pertwee's entire ruffleful wardrobe.

25 - I have no sense of smell. Not sure why, perhaps it's just lazy. I can smell banana and rotting celery, and after a little prompting I can always smell smoke. But most of the time, nothing.