My eyes have found flourescent light borderline painful for the better part of a decade. I used to dread the night and all the things that crouched low on its back. One could say I joined them, for there's some measure of peace in the dark I don't know elsewhere. The Japanese had used the art of shadows to play with light, but my taste in games doesn't wander there. Sight is a monolith square and black on a sunlit meadow.

I like a lack of light. I find it calming even as I trail my awareness to the part of the house the old man occupies. Brian has seen him off and on for awhile, flipping up the lights or calling out my name, to banish the conscious link that made such subtle things possible. It's recently been hanging around my end of things too closely. No particular reason for it that I can fathom, except that Brian has been gone long. I don't have the tools to do a proper clearing, but maybe I can do something before Brian gets back. Or not. I feel entirely lazy and not nearly annoyed enough to bother.

I somehow knew this house was odd.

I suppose it keeps me from going completely soft. Not that there ever was much use in this day and age for whatever the hell I do (or imagine that I do). But like most things in life, hey, it passes the time.

Ever since I came back I've had a sweet-tooth for human contact. Can't get enough of the fuckers. This is what happens when I'm around family and friends long enough to feel human again. I swear.

I'd missed dancing enough to where I went out to Leather and Lace at the Inferno. I normally treat the place like the plague on that one kinky saturday out of the month, but I was compelled.

I only saw Mike at his usual table. Jeff was nowhere to be seen. Mike is to the best of my eye a 30-something geek sort (a good thing) who sports a vast amount of stuff with metal on it. It pleases this one. I nodded to Mike, he to me, and I nodded in turn to a seat. Nod back. It may just be him, me, and Jeff/Dorian Gray, but it's a table and it's not being completely by yourself. I bought him a mountain dew with my 3rd Gin and Tonic. I respect the man for dancing sober.

There were a fair set of regulars. Josh/Goth King came in semi-late and greeted this or that person with a talented set of hands and close lips. He saw fit to put his hands on my hips to move/greet me, which was odd but hey. Josh's long-term g/f was there as well; haven't ever formerly met her, but danced near around several times. There's also a goth chick who reminds me a little too much of Erin (not blonde Erin; cheerleader at Obie Erin). Mini-Goth King was there too. I call him Mini because he dresses, dances, and interacts like Goth King but is, well, shorter. And finally, for whatever reason my favorite, there was Awkward Chick That Looks Like Hillary. I guess I appreciate innocence or the damned slick illusion of it. She doesn't superficially look it mind you, what with saturday's micro-skirt showing a bit much of the ass or the leather halter top. But there's something in her manner, her dancing that suggests she wants to be there but doesn't quite feel she belongs. Yet she keeps coming back.

If we've added and made 4, let's move on.

You also have your sundry list of Ren Faire in Leather types, most of whom I recog only from L&L's. Mix in a dash of male loners both old and young, some grizzled men who I can only describe as "it's a bar, there's beer and titties, fuck it," and various other types I've described before.

I saw Sven there of all people. He was a dick when I tried talking to him amidst his cadre, but hey, he was in his element. I found it amusing he was trying to do the same thing to me back at some awkward halloween party. He said Hill was dancing. I figured saying hi was worth a shot/genial. I looked as I might while a tired an uninspired set of songs bumped along, but no dice. Too bad. I wanted to point out her awkward doppleganger so we could laugh or something.

I'm half tempted to go this Wednesday. Wait, no I just wrote that. Wednesdays suck.

Absolutely everyone is either out of town or is avoiding their inbox. Really, literally; Hell I did too when I was on vacation.

Brian gets back tomorrow. I'm ambivalent. On the one hand I can't lay on the couch naked while listening to Within Temptation or Massive Attack and burning stuff while reading Sun Tsu. On the other hand, Brian's x-box and projector TV will be back. That and I love the bastard kinda vaguely so yeah.

Blonde Erin is getting back next week. We'd been playing the 'gee this is awkward' game most of last semester. I think there was a mutual understanding I'd been interested in her, said interest wasn't returned, and how to relate kinda fell to high school antics by default. Or perhaps we both really were just that busy instead of pretending. Maybe both. We seemed to miss the friendship deal, anyway. I finally decided it's pointless to feel awkward and just enjoy a friendship.

Yeah. I've come across that little gem of obvious mighty recently. Hey, it ain't easy getting over a hot girl in general.

And a moment of unnecessary sharing of 5 second typing at my up and coming houseguest for the weekend:

"You wanna get into a big car and drive real far as the tail-lights of the moon burn out back behind the stars and magic is unmade with odd foods and a kind of living which recognizes the vanity of good furniture?"

Mari tolerates my metaphors.

We can yak about history or geeky things or her super hot aussie b/f. I love playing host regardless.

I need to waste time doing something else besides updating but not really updating.

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