Music: Score from A.I.by John Williams.
Last books read: "A Charmed Life- The Spirituality of Potterworld" by Francis Bridger
and "Detour: My Bipolar Road Trip in 4D" by Lizzie Simon.

+CROAK+

Another week, another croak-fest.
SpokeyDoke. Here we go.

Email on the 17th. He's ok. Not harmed in body, but considerably rumpled in spirit.

Phone tag and simultaneous email tag with him and my (also living in same area as he does) friend K on 19th leads to good conclusion- she drives down and brings me to his apartment on Saturday. We all watch "Fellowship of the Ring," we cruise on over to see "Two Towers," we have food, K brings me back home again that evening.

HA! The best laid plans o'mice an' men.

Side note: I received what goes down in my personal history as the Best Christmas Present Ever.
He wrote a song for me.
And sang it.
It was so very good.

Back to the main story.

We get engrossed in conversation and start Fellowship a bit... late... after having to go and borrow it from a friend.

We halt the DVD at "continues on disc two" part and head out to the theatre... where we discover that Towers is sold out. While I hem over watching a late show, that one sells out, too. ARG.
(Lesson the first: Buy tix online.)

We eventually decide to watch "Star Trek: Nemesis" and even though it's not Towers, it's a good flick and one of the better entries in the sprawling saga.

(Note to self: Was it an even-numbered movie? Check on this.)

Head back to apartment, order pizza (MUCh hemming and hawing over this. +sigh+ Nobody likes fungus and pineapple on their 'za.) and watch second disc of Fellowship.

Much goodness.

Then the phone call home. Which spoils some of my good feelings from a good day with friends.
Decisions are made, choices are made.
I choose to spend more time with my (Ooooh: I almost wrote "fam" in reference to my friends... Freud would be proud.) friends instead of racing home at the crack of whip.

The next day is spent- of all places- at the MALL, racing about, getting last minute gifties for family.

I email him, hoping he's ok.
I get an email back on Monday night/Tuesday morningish.
He's not as all right as I'd be happy with, but he'll survive.

Merry Christmas!

+CROAK+