I was in the supermarket tonight, and a guy and girl geek were having a conversation about movies, using shorthand and half-references, ignoring everyone else, gathering their groceries, involved with each other and their subject. I had to go to the next aisle over and cry for a little bit. I miss the mind that knew me so well.
'Destiny'
Spike's Bitches 48: I Say, We Go Out There, and Kick a Little Demon Ass.
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Aw Connie. Yeah.
(((Connie)))
Connie, I'm so sorry.
My house is a complete disaster, and I think ltc is going to be crawling soon. So it must be cleaned up, but it's just making me so depressed and anxious which isn't helpful when trying to get stuff done.
Fucking hell. I'm signing off my work computer, and my phone rings. No one ever calls me. But Hubby would often call me as I was closing down, to arrange the evening's activities. Wrong number, of course, but dear goddess, the jolt of "And that's my beloved calling me."
I should change my ring tone, so it's not so hardwired into upsetting responses.
Oh Connie, I'm sorry
{{{{{{Connie}}}}}
Oh Connie, may this year bring more joy with memories than sorrow.
I wish it could just be...really long-distance, Connie.
What Laura said.