To borrow a phrase from the wonderfully fabulous ArtemisJ, I call shenanigans on the packing fairies. I would have sworn in a court of law that I only packed a few things, plus the presents for my father's side of the family, and now somehow I have a 3 foot x 2 foot x 1 foot case, weighing roundabout 45lbs, and I can only assume that some naughty little imps have snuck things in when my back was turned.
And I'm only going for two freakin' days!
So yeah, I'm getting on a train down to Somerset in an hour or so, to see Papa and Stepmama. I thought I had to leave for the station at 11.15, but I misread my train time - it's an hour later than I thought - so I don't have to leave till 12.15 now. So I'm watching crummy daytime TV and wishing I was in bed, or at least wishing that I'd got some sleep last night. Unfortunately I had pain, and nausea, and just couldn't sleep. So I played on Farmville, and wrapped the presents, and played Sonic the Hedgehog, and talked a little to Kurisu-san (who works various hours in a bar, and last night he didn't get off until 4-ish).
We only talked for fifteen or twenty minutes, but it was really nice - I hadn't talked to him since before my lack of internet. He and his girlfriend went to Paris for a couple days, right after the last post that I mentioned him in, and then my internet went away, and since then we just haven't connected. But it was so good to talk to him. Being around him brings me peace. It's been that way since the first lesson I had with him. He walked into the room, the first day of the second semester of Japanese last year, and I looked at him and felt like I'd known him and loved him for years. Nearly a year's gone by since then and that feeling hasn't faded. The title of this post is what Morgan once called Garcia in Criminal Minds, and while I've never been entirely comfortable with the idea of a person getting their solace and peace from another person (as opposed to drawing it from inside themselves), the phrase feels curiously appropriate for how I feel around K. I hear music when I'm around people I know well and care about; they all carry their own theme music - and K plays the Second Movement from Beethoven's Emperor Concerto.
To be honest, even though words and I seem to get along fairly well most of the time, that piece of music - and the way it makes me feel - trumps anything I could ever say about him.
Well, enough of the sappiness - I need to check a couple things online, and then make a sandwich and find some socks and try to work out if I have the energy to carry some of the presents in a carrier bag, because I'm worried that all the beautiful wrappings that I spent hours making perfect will tear if I try and cram them all into my suitcase.
It's Tuesday morning now, I'm planning to come back on Thursday afternoon. Papa doesn't talk all that much since his stroke, and even spending the day there can be a little difficult sometimes, so it's likely that I'll have plenty of spare time in the next few days. So either I'll be online a whole heck of a lot, or not at all, depending on whether or not I can get a signal down in the depths of the countryside.
Love y'all, and hopefully I'll talk to you soon.
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