- Cool autumn days and crisp autumn nights (You'll likely see this more than once)
- Cuddle time with Velcro Dog
- My cousin who rocks my world with her obsessive love of Doctor Who
Then came Netflix. With the rebooted Doctor Who. There was much rejoicing! Except, I loved Christopher Eccleston and didn't know his Doctor was only going to last a season. It was a shock to the system to step into a new episode with David Tennant at the helm of the Tardis. I don't think I watched the older seasons in any specific order and I don't recall seeing the transition episodes for Doctors 1 through 8. I grew to love David Tennant's Doctor even more than Christopher's and dragged my feet when I knew we were getting close to David's reign.
I didn't think I could handle another change. And I really didn't think I could handle the good Doctor going through an existential crisis knowing his incarnation was going to die and a new incarnation would be born from the proverbial ashes. Sure, this new Doctor would have a smilar personality and would retain all of the memories and experiences of the previous 10. But he wouldn't be David Tennant! And he wouldn't be as burdened by his love for Rose. Nor would he so desperately miss Donna, the companion who lifted his spirits and didn't fall in love with him, not even a little. The companion who had the same lust for exploration as he did. All those nuances, they would be gone.
I caved this weekend after almost a year of dragging my feet and I finally transitioned to Matt Smith as The Doctor. I cried. I lamented and while I'm still not completely sure of Matt's rendition of my beloved Doctor, I am willing to continue the ride. Change happens. Change is always going to happen. I can fight it kicking and screaming and always lamenting what was in the good 'ole days. Or I can slide into it and experience something new. The good Doctor wouldn't have survived this long if it wasn't for change, now would he?