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My friend Dawn called this morning. She was housecleaning last night and got a little carried away with that, and didn't wind up calling me. I wound up telling her all about the thing with Tien's wife leaving him. Then I had to explain what, exactly, I meant by "a Tien" when she hadn't read the books. (She really should read them.)

If the spaceship crashed in the desert and we were worried about having enough water, a Tien would take a shower.

We cackled together over the inevitabilities, and caught up on recent events. She does travel bookings for Disney, and has Cunning Plans for either when I wind up visiting her, or if my Pretty and I ever want a romantic getaway. (Hmm. Somehow I don't see a solitary sort of romantic getaway thing happening, but I think it could be lots of gigglesome fun if there were some sort of group holiday trip thing...)

Midway through the call, I got a beep. I switched over. It was for me.
"This is Captain John Kirk from DeVry..."
<azzgrin> "I don't feel like being recruited. Have a nice day!" >click<
I must say, working in the phone survey industry has made my telephone solicitation brushoffs very smooth indeed: swift, polite, and unambiguous.

Dawn and I have great fun giggling about stuff together. It really helps to have a chickfriend who knows the entire household and the whole old school crowd. It was the four of us at school: her, me, Darkside, and ralmathon. We're scattered all over the country (sort of), but we're still staying somewhat in touch, with me as the hub. It really helps that she knows the Tien-type, having been married to one; we could giggle about that properly. I explained the kid's middle name, and we cracked up...
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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