July 13th, 2001

running, bomb tech

home life...

sitting around with the remains of fast food hamburgers around us, playing with computers, listening to Delirium.

Just found out something interesting about a friend of a friend. Hmm. Welcome, friend of a friend.
running, bomb tech

God I'm lonely.

I've been suspecting for a while that the whole idea of a relationship between myself and Darkside would just not work. It's taken a while to sink in, though. I think it finally did today.

My online romance with one of my Davids seems to be fairly well ... yeah. Going nowhere fast. He's got irl interests ... I've got irl interests... we're never online at the same time. We'll always be friends, I know that ... but the spark seems to have faded.

I haven't seen Darkside in three weeks. I'm as certain now that we won't be getting together as I was certain that he had to date my sister... and we know how that turned out.

I don't know why I know this. Don't ask me. I'd either evade, cite some completely silly and irrelevant details, or lie.

He's my friend. That fact remains. I love him. That also remains. Gods know what he thinks of me. We'll see. But if I go chasing after him, I'll invite doom upon us both. I'll mangle my own heart, and his, by trying to get things going too soon. He'll break my heart, and his, either by dating me or not dating me. It's too soon to even think about this.

By the time he's recovered from his drastic dumping, there'll most likely be another girl in line ahead of me, who's wormed her way into his affections and gotten to reap the results of the hard work Sis and I put into socializing the guy. And I'll smile, and I'll say happy things to them, since it's always nice to see a friend happy...

...and I'll find a corner and cry my heart out, since it would have been nice for us to be together romantically.

Darkside is close enough to me that sometimes we touch each other's minds without really meaning to. He's been brushing against mine lately.

And where does the artist fit into all this?

I'm looking at the puzzle pieces, but the clocks have all melted in this Arizona sun. Time has warped, bubbled, slurred so that one minute does not necessarily follow the next.

I love you, Darkside. We'll see how it goes.

Minute by minute, we waltz back and forth, parry and thrust, parry, parry, parry, riposte...
horny, Divine Oscillations

quasi-erotic conversation with david

Chat session with friend in Germany, evil plots on how I should best seduce Darkside. This particular friend David is rather, um, conservative, so the fact that he had this conversation with me at all is... odd.

And he thinks I'm gorgeous. Wow.

I happen to like him quite a bit too, but the cards say Absolute Fucking Disaster if I should seriously go after him. So I shan't. Whereas the cards say that the outcome if I continue my courtship of Darkside will be harmony and better getting along with others. Maybe not a card of romance and love, but we'll all learn things we need to know from this.
  • Current Music
    final fantasy 7 from Dude
running, bomb tech

13 for 13

Sis does mini-readings every day for herself -- her "horrorscope for the day." She occasionally does them for the rest of us.

She did mine this afternoon before I left for work. Rather, she started to.

She got a phone call before she could, though, and she had to leave. I returned to find a note on my keyboard that it has been number thirteen, reversed.

Just plain thirteen I view as a good thing. Thirteen reversed... not auspicious. More to come later on what/why...
running, bomb tech

E-Mail to cadhla

I had the rare good fortune to be working at a Sam's Club in a rather small town (Fairbanks, Alaska) on the day that Goblet of Fire was released. I routinely came in at 5 in the mornings. By the time I took my first break at ten, the stacks that had been gloriously full in the morning were now considerably diminished, and instead of taking my well-earned rest, I nipped over to the horde, snagged myself a copy, and bought it. I got a few chapters through that day; by the time I left around two-ish, the books were gone. My father came home disappointed that he hadn't gotten a copy. (He's honorary grandfather to a few dozen small children between the ages of zero and nineteen, and routinely has at least five clinging to his legs at all times.) I handed mine over as soon as I was done reading it, and haven't recovered it yet.

In book news, I hear that Lois McMaster Bujold is about thirteen chapters along on writing the latest Vorkosigan book (if you are unfamiliar with her, I'm going to have to hurt you -- four Hugos and counting), and Diane Duane is polishing up the fourth book in the Tale of the Five.

in the Word and the Light,