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Happy gooshy hearts day!

Mildly decadent confections, pretty flowers, good music, good friends, good times, and so forth for all!

I wished Stressy College Chick a good day of watching her teenage son's romantic predicaments entangle themselves, and wished her good luck at keeping from laughing until she was out of earshot. That was a holiday wish she could really get behind.

Saturday at work featured a power outage. The Dave Matthews Band Fan Geek came in. There were some amusing exchanges. He got to hear about the One-Man Bald Nudity Crusade; he's declared that the fellow is his hero (meant in the sarcastic sense). Migods. Spam. And the version information exchange. Called Darkside after work and that was good.

Sunday morning at work was a longer day than I thought it would be. It started an hour earlier than we'd been starting lately, and I stayed until nearly 5 to get things in order for the next shift, as there was no evening check-in. I was very tired by the end of it all, especially because my left shoulder had started to get annoyed with me. (It was aching on Saturday and Sunday. In retrospect, I blame switching back to the bouncy-ball computer chair at home for the shoulder strain.)

Darkside had said that he'd likely be home all weekend. I followed through on the bright idea that had been burbling around in my brain and took the car to work in the morning, so by the time I got out, I could just hop in the car and drive straight there. I showed up unannounced, which I thought of as frightfully obnoxious (since we do tend to schedule ourselves a little more formally) but he didn't snarl at me, just bid me "Welcome to Grouch Central. I'm Oscar..."

We had an excellent time talking computers, and a mutually-venting time talking work. We wound up in the office looking at the computer in question, which location was excellently positioned for his mother to holler in about the movie they were watching, and did we want -- No -- or perhaps Darkside could show Joanie one of the movies that he thinks she should see that she hasn't gotten a chance to see yet? No, that wouldn't be necessary. Are you sure? Yes I'm sure, Mom. And the exchange was followed by Malfoy Senior clearly wondering what that all was about, and Lady Malfoy explaining in Muffled Parental Tones the thing about Darkside making reference to the bazillion movies I've never seen, and me wanting to get together regularly to catch up on some of these, or something.

I shall have to get a chance to later let her know that the effort was appreciated, but a tad mis-aimed: the aim is to get regular quality time with Darkside, not necessarily the choice of media. Though the media makes a convenient excuse.

Lady Malfoy had made a slightly experimental asparagus-and-chicken casserole. Not chicken casserole with incidental asparagus: this was an asparagus casserole with covert chicken elements somewhere in the construction. Politeness constrains me to not let the full blast of my sarcasm loose upon the dish. To be fair, it was from a recipe, and thus is out of range of the sort of commentary that I let loose on Sis's beef stew with black olives and anise. And it was edible. Though I do wonder if she got the recipe out of the Gallery of Regrettable Food or not.

We escaped to Darkside's room, where he got on with watching Mythbusters. I expressed my happiness and settled down next to him for some good old-fashioned geeking. If this had been a date, and the show had been a movie, it would have been the ideal date movie for the two of us. Simulated shark attacks, explosions, goat shaving, and toilet seat cultures, complete with extensive punning -- what's not to love?

Darkside did attempt to quiz me about why I'd shown up, given that it was not on my way coming home from work, and was in fact quite a bit out of my way. I wasn't quite able to articulate it exactly. I did manage to convey that it had been a dreadfully stressful week, and I'd really needed to decompress. And I'd wanted to hang out with him. I did not manage to get anything out about the whole "I really psychologically need to see my best friend regularly" issue; that will have to be brought up later, and brought up carefully.

Sparkage was minimal but present. I'd been fairly upset a recent time I'd seen him because there was practically no spark. This time there was a nice undercurrent of warmth with overlays of awkwardness. No wild zapping and snapping, no "I'm out of words right now", nothing like that, just coziness with a hint of klutz.

It feels weird to be effectively taller than him when hugging him goodbye. (In absolute terms, he's a half-inch taller. This means that who's effectively taller depends on the shoes.) He walked outside with me in his socks, and I had 1" soles. I hesitated; he reached for me first. I usually lean my cheek against the shoulder closest to me, but that works a lot better when he's taller. He explained about traffic. (It sounded like he was at least a little impressed that I'd just ... come over. Because it's a long way. And I was tired. He did poke me a few times on the "but why did you come here?" front; I'll have to explain. Later.)

Still in love with him (and still officially unrequited, still unrequited according to what he'll admit to himself, and still knowing that if he did happen to fall in love with me he'd never admit it to himself for a list of reasons that I know of). Still being very patient. Still attempting to restrain the Wildly Inappropriate Romance and stick with the vegetable love. Five years ago today, my heart un-broke for good from the Shawn fiasco when it became absolutely clear to me that even though my two closest friends were in love with each other, they still had consideration for me and weren't about to neglect me for each other. It was dreadfully awkward, the sort of situation that you just have to look back at and wince or laugh, but it worked. I have faith in love and trust again thanks to them.

Still not sure what, exactly, I'm going to do to mark the occasion in the direction of Darkside. Have previously determined that large numbers of red roses are Out. Shall figure out something.
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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