Listening to The Police. Love this song, but it really is quite stalker-y. Maybe that's a hint, that I should clear out some of the pictures of Mr. Tennant that appear as my computer wallpaper. One appeared a few minutes ago and I actually said aloud "Wow, you sexy thing!" Thankfully, my dogs don't pay a whit of attention to my random outbursts anymore and there was no one around to hear it. Nevermind that I've told you, it's just hearsay. Yeah, that's it.
Really, I think I'm quite a good fan. I've written two fan letters so far. One has actually been sent, even! Somehow, I don't think I have a great chance of hearing back from John Barrowman or anyone connected with him, but if I do, I'll let you know. The second letter, to composer Murray Gold, is waiting to be sent. I couldn't find reliable contact information for him directly. I'm working up my courage to send a letter to David Tennant. Silly, huh? Courage, just to send a letter which will probably end up in a fanclub form letter queue.
But I really do put effort into these letters. They're much more than just SQUEEEEE fangirl stuff. I think famous people should know why you admire them, more than just "you're so cuuuuute!" sort of thing. If someone were writing me a fan letter, I'd like to know how they discovered me. Maybe a little bit about them so I know what sort of person ends up as my fan. What I've done that really means the most to them. It helps if they've done their homework and know what I've done besides the "most famous" thing. So that's the sort of letter I write.
And now something completely different. I dance a bit more than I used to. I put on my iTunes and quite often it'll offer up some song on shuffle that just makes me want to move. Since dancing is really a very calorie-burning sort of activity, I give in and bop around the kitchen. I'm really bad at dancing, but nobody's watching. Except the puppies. They get agitated when I dance. Could be the lack of rhythm. Luckily, one of the commands I have drilled into their doggie brains is "Out of the kitchen!" Very useful when cooking. Or dancing. You can guess which activity keeps them anxiously sat at the edge of the kitchen staring at the floor near the oven.
I wonder if some people think I should be more sad than I am. Really, I'm just over four months alone now. And sometimes, yes, I am quite sad. (I think Valentines Day might be a little rough. We'll see.) But most days, I think of all the good things about my time with Michael. We didn't often have it easy, what with health, money, and two strong personalities. But we really were happy! We'd watch movies and talk endlessly about superheroes and apocalyptic futures and weird inventions and whatever else came to mind. Or, we'd both be incredibly silent because we were both reading or playing a computer game intensely. Our moods just seemed to fit. Sure, I miss the conversations and companionship. But I have a lot to look back on and be proud of. Those times far outweigh the stress and sadness of his illness.
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