The Sound of Silence

Argh! It's been several weeks since my last post. I must have the dreaded blogger's block. Actually, I don't feel any less inspired than usual. I may be even over-inspired. I have, what seems at the time, a great shiny thought, but it's quickly replaced by the next sparkly idea, and by the time I'm able to put fingers to keyboard, all the thoughts and ideas are a jumbled mess. I'm lacking the time and focus to pull some ideas together and put them into words. Now my standards for this blog are obviously not that high...my whole point is just to throw stuff out there and not worry about it too much. But even given that forgiving framework, I still need to form my thoughts into something. And I'm finding the longer I go between the posts, the more daunting this task seems.

A friend even asked me about this blog tonight. Not in a "oh my god, I am so desperately waiting for another nugget of your wisdom when will you post next?!" but in a "Hey, what's the deal with that 'pepper sprout' blog thing" but still...it's time for me to just do something. I'm going to put all those great ideas (about Hank Williams, and Guernica, and Kitty Boo-Boo, etc.) aside (hopefully to bring to blog life at a later date) and write a brief post about Dr. Who and boots.

Recently in a post-Halloween debrief, my friend Erin said the friend she went out with on Halloween went as Dr. Who's companion, Clara, in a boring outfit. (Meaning that the friend was just going in what the theater world calls "street clothes," not to be confused with hooker attire). This really struck me, because back in my day, the Dr.'s companions didn't have the luxury of changing their clothes very often. They usually ended up wearing whatever they were the day they joined up with the Doctor for episode after episode, with maybe one or two costume changes throughout their entire tenure. Hygiene issues aside (presumably the TARDIS sonically cleaned their clothes while they wore them), this was a lot of pressure to put on one wardrobe choice.

Companion Adric NEVER got to change
his clothes (as far as I remember)
and died in these horrible prison pajamas. 

As a young geek girl, I would fantasize (no, not really in THAT way because I was also a very unaware teen) about being the Doctor's companion and what outfit I wanted to be whisked away in. (Luckily for me, this was before the interwebs and the rise of fan fiction so there is no evidence of these daydreams.) It had to be a damn good outfit: flattering, unique, and practical. Something that would make me look pretty and smart and would allow me to run from Daleks. My perfect outfit usually was purple, and included tights, paisley, and boots. Thirty years later, although I feel I have changed a lot, I still stand by those criteria (although I could let the paisley go). But I definitely need to keep the boots.

I love boots. I love them when they're practical, sexy, professional, country, quirky, etc. Sadly, no one pair of boots can be all these things (which leads to major storage issues) but I did buy three pretty awesome pairs of boots tonight. I did show some restraint and passed on the amazing purple velour boots that were too expensive to justify their ridiculous heel height. One of  the pairs could even be in the running for the perfect Dr. Who companion boots: their dark brown color and low heels make them practical, but they are sassy enough to add a little flair. Sadly, not sexy, but again, when running from Daleks or standing at a desk writing e-mails, that is a little too much to ask. And they are even made of synthetic (notice I do not say "man-made") materials, not leather, which satisfies my pseudo-vegetarian heart. (We won't talk about my environmental or ethical working environment heart).

So, there you go. Dr. Who, boots, fan fiction, vegetarianism...there are some words, and they are on a screen, and I will call that good enough.