Love to Hate to Love You

I love to complain about technology. It’s actually a fun thing to do. You tell anyone “Oh my GOD, I hate technology sometimes” and they usually have an epic story about a time that technology failed them in some spectacularly hysterical way. For me? My go-to story is the fact that, on the one day in the space of about five minutes, my phone, laptop, AND iPod all decided to die. It was like a prearranged strike. Add to that the fact that my mere presence can cause any technological device to shut down, and I really have a problem with technology. It just never seems to work for me.

I am of the opinion that every single time technology dies at the worst possible moment it is because the devices we use are the advance guard for the technological uprising. I mean, why else would technology be such a bitch sometimes?

But, on those rare moments where technology gets over itself and decides to work for me, I could put all of my devices in a pile, pick them all up, and give them a massive bear hug.

I just moved to Canberra, which is about 1300 kilometres (just over 800 miles) from everyone I have ever known and loved. I haven’t found a job yet, and uni doesn’t start until next week, so I am in that unfortunate period where I don’t know anyone except my dad and his wife. And they work full-time. So last night, when everyone went to bed early because their jobs had sucked the last drop of energy out of them, I was incredibly grateful for my smartphone and my laptop (Samsung and Mac, respectively). Because it meant that I could feel as though some of the friends I left behind in Brisbane were sitting on the couch next to me.

Which was unfortunate, because one of them was torturing me with the most horrifying, disgusting, and heart-wrenching episode of Torchwood. Actually, it’s the most horrifying, disgusting, and heart-wrenching episode of anything I have ever seen. Note to all of you: just skip Torchwood: Children of Earth. It is so not worth it.

The other one was telling me that I could have gotten away with not telling my Stats tutor last semester that I handed my assignment in late, because the tutors NEVER CHECK THE TIME STAMP. Which means that it might have been possible for me to GRADUATE WITH DISTINCTION.

But, whatever, I’m not bitter or anything….

And let’s not forget Facebook, that wonderful social medium that lets me have in-depth conversations with my fellow Whovians about the theory of the Twelfth Doctor. Seriously, don’t get me started. You can watch the video to see what I’m talking about:

If you couldn’t be bothered to watch the entire half hour video, then here’s the part I mean:

“I remember Russell [T Davies] told me that he had a big old plan as to why there were two Peter Capaldis in the Who universe: one in Pompeii and one in Torchwood. When I cast Peter and Russell got in touch to say how pleased he was, I said, ‘Okay, what was your theory and does it still work?” and he said, ‘Yes it does. Here it is…’”

I think the theory I now have my heart set on is the idea that the Doctor used the Chameleon Arch for some reason, and Captain Jack Harkness was in charge of the fob-watch that holds his true identity. Because this theory means that Jack can come back. And, apparently, there’s a rumour that an “old favourite” will be returning.

Captain Jack Harkness, Time Agent

Please, please, PLEASE let it be Jack. Just look at that smile. And that face. And that hair….

Where was I? Oh, right.

I happen to be one of those people who make friends very slowly. I never actually knew that until I graduated high school. During school I had people around me all the time, in the same classes, doing the same thing. Uni is so much looser and less enclosed than that. So it won’t be until I’ve started uni and had a few classes that I’ll find someone to hang out with. But it’ll happen. The power of positivity!

But just for now, I am that girl who is constantly on her phone, seemingly uninterested in reality. Well, in your reality. My reality just happens to come to me on the screen of my Galaxy S3.



About Bec Graham

Bec Graham, 24, was born on the wrong continent. Everything from her burns-like-paper skin tone to her inability to cope with the slightest hint of a hot day suggests she should have been born under the gloomy skies and mild sun of the UK. She hopes writing will get her to her rightful home one day. Failing that, she scans the skies for a spinning blue police box, hoping to catch a lift back to the motherland.
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2 Responses to Love to Hate to Love You

  1. If Jack comes back… I can’t even. I can’t even process how incredible that would be.

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