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Warm & happy!

Talked with Darkside for almost an hour before leaving to actually go spend time with him. He'd indicated that he was bored; I asked if he was feeling social. He was. So! Off I went! (He was playing Knights of the Old Republic, trying to unlock things by playing it ... on the Dark Side. He was failing miserably. Yes, Darkside does not make a good Dark Side Force-user. He's not enough of an asshole.)

Today he learned that he doesn't set off my sense of PEOPLE. In six years, he hadn't figured this out? "So, what, I'm not a person?" He wasn't sure whether to be miffed or what. I pointed out that of course he's a human, but he doesn't count as an external force that I must brace myself defensively against, and that it's a compliment. There are very few people who aren't People. This was apropos of my giggling over the idea of asking him, "So, feel like playing Knights of the Old Republic while I hide in the corner with a book?"

It's chilly outside for Phoenix. Since it was below freezing today in Mesa, naturally when I went to Mesa, I brought no coat. I probably should have appropriated a blanket sooner, but I eventually did, and then I was nice and warm while watching anime with the best friend. There were neighbors of his who had blankets on their yard-cacti. It was cute.

How is a blond not like a lightbulb? (He told the joke, rather than me enacting the joke, and in any case, he claims his hair is no longer blond.)

I poked him with Cluebat 2.0. He got out sticks. I failed at fighting, though I refused to do it with sticks because we were inside. I tried for a nose-grab, and ended up with my arms grabbed. My balance and coordination are shot. I need to work on those more. I used to spar like a dancer, and now I just clunk.

Darkside's mom had rooster potholders, the pinch-style ones, and she was waving and clacking them like finger-cymbals along to The Producers. This garnered her some very dubious looks from the under-thirty crowd.
"You don't like my rooster potholders?" she asked.
"I think your mom's getting cocky," I said to Darkside.
Darkside got that look on his face that he gets when he's trying not to say something.
"Do I want to know?" I asked.
Instead of telling me whether I wanted to know or not, he said, "I think that would be up to Father."
Hilarity ensued, mostly featuring me turning pink and looking away and trying not to grin. Darkside pranced around the room crowing about embarrassing his parents.
I raised all my eyebrows and looked at his mom. "He's really a lot like his father," I observed.
"Like two peas in a pod," his mother agreed.

His mom invited us to remain out in the living room with them, and Darkside said it was up to me, but I declined on the grounds that we had Hellsing waiting. His mother made commentary that included the pointed phrase "In your room", twice, as we were retreating. I sort of was smirking, even though nothing even close to like that happened.

By the time I left, the parentals had cleared the living room. If I were more of a smartass than I am, I would tease his mother.

http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2007/01/070110090851.htm (unrelated, but procrastination)
http://community.livejournal.com/puns/727882.html (I didn't actually show him this one)
http://www.cs.unm.edu/~dlchao/flake/doom/ -- link from pauamma, first discussed with and then sent to Darkside.
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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