I was doing laundry one afternoon and there was nothing on tv. I saw Doctor Who on BBCA and though the show had always been on my pop culture radar, I had never watched it. So I turned it on and tended to my clothes, but within 15 minutes the clothes were forgotten. At one point my husband came in to find out what I was watching because he could hear the Dalek’s loud voices.
It was Journey’s End and I didn’t know what was going on but it didn’t stop me. I was in love. I was hopeless. And I didn’t understand why I was sobbing so hard when he wiped Donna’s memories. It broke me. It still does.
A few weeks later we recorded and sat down to a marathon of season 3, and we were breathless during Blink and the two part Family of Blood episodes. From there we started back at Nine and worked our way though, and have been deep and proud Whovians ever since. We even named our son after Captain Jack. (His middle name is Coulson, after our favorite SHIELD Agent. We have no regrets.)
I’m really glad I didn’t just turn on the Food Network that fateful afternoon. My life would be empty now.
(Source: littlebitofallonsy, via burntlikethesun)