Had a desperate adventure-dream that involved some trying to rescue my beloved. There was no indication in the dream exactly who said beloved was, he was just mine, and I'd go through anything in my way to rescue him. (He was trying to rescue disaster victims at one point in the dream, and had been severely injured beyond the possibility of saving, so I was recounting a litany of his praises while trying to get as many others saved as possible. I don't think anything had sunk in yet; in the dream-state I was still too hyped up for anything emotional to have hit will full power, and since I was there and trying to clear off rubble and doing a good job of it, I knew that really there was nothing else I could have done, so I wouldn't have gotten hit with that crippling guilt part of the grief that would have said that if only I had done more I could have saved him, because as it was I was doing more than I should have been able to. At an earlier point, I was trying to escape a tyrant, and I think she was threatening him with my captivity.) There were bizarre interludes of trying to find the exact right stuffed toy in an ordinarily-locked shop for a girl of eight or nine who felt like a cross between my own little sister and 'Song's daughter, although she probably actually was like neither one. And then there was a school calendar and assorted schedule-drama. Whee.
Called Darkside. Back from vacation, yay. His parents are in California on business, still. I went over and we watched more (new) Hellsing and snarked A[l/r]ucard's magical length-changing hair. Then we watched something that involved Shinjuku getting creamed (yet again) by a rogue spirit of the city, the replacement spirit of the city, with a lot of demons along for the ride (some of whom were helping cream, like the police commissioner who was eating the contents of a riot shelter). When shit goes down, the Shinjuku district gets it, yo. He cooked dinner at this point. Then we watched some fun BBC animation. I made sure he actually had my address, this time. I could have sworn that I'd sent it to him, but he never wound up getting it. Now he has it, and my number, and the gate code.
I had put pink glitter in my hair well before going over there. When he pulled me into an awkward sideways hug upon my departure, he pulled the top of my head against his neck. I informed him that he was wearing pink glitter now. He said he'd have to take a bath. Hooray corruption of the glitter-free! :-P