I have a life outside of books! I do! I swear!

Oxford doesn’t feel like mine. It’s a funny thing to say about a city, but it’s true. It should perhaps be the funnier thing that I assume it should feel like mine, but I do. It’s the city which engendered Alice and Éowyn and Lyra–especially Lyra, dear Lyra–so I thought I would find a measure of my childhood here. I don’t.
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If you follow me on Twitter or Tumblr (especially Tumblr), then you know I am a huge fan of Doctor Who, and that I am a huge fan of David Tennant’s run as the Tenth Doctor, and that Catherine Tate as Donna is my favourite companion. They are performing as Beatrice and Benedick in a West End production of Much Ado About Nothing, and I wanted nothing more than to see them before the run ended (which, incidentally, is tomorrow). Sometimes, if you wish really hard, magical things happen.
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I don’t sleep on the flight from Newark to Heathrow, which is strange because I’ve always been able to sleep on planes. I don’t sleep but I doze, a restless, fitful state that is neither restful nor refreshing. I had hoped to arrive in London having fooled my body into believing it had gotten a good night’s rest.
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