Perhaps you’ve followed me from my previous blog, in which case you need no introduction. But perhaps you’ve stumbled across me whilst searching for Star Trek, or Doctor Who, or some other science fiction search thingy. I do tend to pop up in the strangest of places. Not in your living room though. Unless you invite me. Maybe. Will there be cake?
I talk about brains rather a lot, because they fascinate me. I am especially fond of people who possess them. Joking aside, it’s neurological disorders that I’m especially interested in; largely because I have some, and I like to help people to understand them better.
However, I’m not all about the brainmeats and their inner workings. I’m whimsical and silly quite often, and I took the Fourth Doctor seriously when he said “There’s no point being grown up if you can’t be childish sometimes”. It’s the ethic I live by, purely because I can, and it’s a lot more fun than becoming a grouchy old woman.
I’m a self-confessed sci-fi nerd who wishes the TARDIS would sweep by and pick me up. I like tea, and I’m rather too fond of tomato soup and crumpets. I have epilepsy and I’m moderately autistic, but I function reasonably well around people I know. Through childhood I believed that I was actually a Vulcan who had been left on earth and adopted by human parents. Sometimes I still believe that, because it’s a nice idea.
As much as I might occasionally struggle, I own and embrace my autism: it’s an intrinsic part of me and it helps me to generally not give a shit what people think of my Doctor Who t-shirts and numerous scarves and hats. Why yes, I do have a Jayne hat. I’ve worn it in public and nobody dared to laugh. It’s a very fine hat.
I’m married to a long-suffering and wonderful Man-Tribble, who introduced me to Firefly and anime, and who I would never have met if not for the late, great Sir Terry Pratchett. In turn I have
introduced subjected him to Doctor Who, home-made bread and Clutter. Also tarantulas, but that’s a story for another time.
I’m a published writer, of sorts. An open letter to my profoundly autistic son is published in The Milk Of Female Kindness and an old memory I have from The Bad Old Days appears in the hot-off-the-press Lemmy: Memories Of A Rock N’ Roll Legend. I’m writing a book of my own, and I dabble in fanfiction (just please do not ever ask me to write you a Ten/Rose fan/slashfic because that will mean that you and I can’t be friends. Trust me on this).
Welcome to the vortex. Please enjoy your stay.