Remember, remember, the 23rd of November

Well, it's November 23rd. It's that time of year again. But this year, as Doctor Who turns 41, we have the excitement of knowing that before it turns 42, we will have seen a whole new series. Excellent.

Situational factors mean that the vaguely planned overseas trip for early next year is almost certainly off, so right now what I'm really looking for in life is a new project. Until I find one to tide me over until I start getting geared up for the comedy festival my brain keeps cooking up minor crazy projects - and believe me, they are crazy. My brain is going nuts, it's not being fed properly.

My dreams are further evidence of this; this morning's was an elaborate effects-laden romantic comedy with a twist that the woman was actually evil, and unredeemable, although by the end of it I was on a talk show with a bunch of Fringe artists hosted by the Doug Anthony All-Stars (without Tim, mind you) and which then turned out to be in a massive skyscraper soon invaded by Transformers who fought on the front steps. The Autobots won their battle to destroy the evil forces of the Decepticons and then had a victory party, at which point I turned into a Transformer and changed into a plane, flying back in through one of the upstairs windows to rejoin the party where I turned back into my upscale rom-com self and... Well I could go on, there were plots with politicians, an old guy who looked a bit like Paul McCartney's grandfather (he was very clean), an attempt to work for the evil woman, a robbery staged by distracting bank staff with a giant boardgame which released some kind of knockout gas, totally awesome clothes, dropping out of University...

I love my brain. Some days.