On mojo and bow ties.

Every so often, I become convinced that the only reason I am not having loads and loads of rampant, mind-blowing sex is that I choose not to. Entirely at random I will start to believe that I am, in the words of Fat Bastard, dead sexy. Well...maybe not dead sexy, but at least attractive enough that I could reasonably convince one or two people I find dead sexy to climb into bed with me.

As far as I can tell there is no particular trigger for this sudden change in attitude, and in hindsight I almost always find the idea horrifying, but since I'm in the midst of one such mood swing I'm perfectly content to do an erotic dance and flirt outrageously with people I've never met before. Frankly I think all the Doctor Who has had a wayward effect on me; Jack Harkness is a terrible role model unless you really are undeniably attractive.

On an almost entirely unrelated note, bow ties have become fetish fuel for me, and I've decided that the absence of one in my wardrobe is an atrocity that must be corrected.

(Bow ties are cool.)

Liking early Regina Spektor and needing a whole lot more Doctor Who in my life.

I had somehow managed to forget how much I love Regina Spektor's earlier, rougher, freer songs.

Thirty-two is still a goddamn number
Thirty-two still counts

Brilliant. Alright, indie and pretentious, but brilliant nonetheless.

Over the last few days I have, with the mystical powers of Youtube and the internet in general, been giving myself a crash course on the most recent episodes of Doctor Who. For years I had allowed the painfully cheesy low-budget effects and patently ridiculous plots put me off what is actually a very enjoyable show, as it turns out.

Tardy to the party? Well, slightly. But I am making a heartfelt attempt to make up for that! I'm fascinated by its ability to override my rationality and convince me that even though it's blatantly trying to turn "I wear a ____ now. ____s are cool." into a much-loved, oft-quoted catchphrase, I still buy it. I'm sitting there with one half of my brain facepalming and telling me, "That is so fucking lame," and the other half squeeing and shrieking like a deranged fangirl, "Bowties are cool!" Oddly confusing, but I applaud Matt Smith for making it work, because really.