Transplanted Life
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
 
So, how was your Valentine's Day?
Mine was good. Real good, in a way I might have predicted if I were in an optimistic mood three and a half years ago but which kind of took me by surprise in the present day.

It started out inauspiciously enough - we were getting hit with the first real winter storm of the season, and I foolishly decided to go in to work. I can work from home, but I generally don't get much done - home has a TV, you know, and though I generally say I'm just putting it on for background noise or something like that, I end up engaged. Besides, there was a conference call scheduled, and both my cell and landline don't mix with those so well.

So I hauled my butt out to the bus stop, waited until the bus was fifteen minutes late, and was about to turn around and work from home with no great regret when the 70A showed up. Ah, well, to Waltham it was.

I got some work done, but not as much as I'd have liked - my theory is that since we have to access a number of off-site databases, we're a bit vulnerable to weather-related problems like downed wires or whatever else jams phone lines and the like. Not that this theory has a lot of merit, but it makes a certain amount of intuitive sense to me. Anyway, nothing makes a day go slower than just waiting for queries to run, so I was quite happy when I was offered a ride back into town at around four. Even in a car, rather than a bus, it took the better part of an hour.

My favorite comic shop got its deliveries, so I picked up my weeks pop culture in Harvard Square and then started walking toward the Brattle. It's there I bumped into Kate, hanging back at street level. (If you've never been to the Brattle, it's a bit architecturally odd - you have to go down some steps to get to the box office and concession stand, where you're directed upstairs to the actual theater). "Doing Casablanca?"

"That's the plan," she said, "But I don't know - it doesn't start for another forty-five minutes, and it's sure to be crowded with happy couples all dressed up and kissing and proposing to each other. I may puke."

I had to admit, I didn't feel much up to it either. We scrounged up a copy of the alterna-rag to see what else was playing, and noted D.O.A. and Rocketship X-M as part of a Cold War series at the Harvard Film Archive. That sounded a heck of a lot more appealing, so we (carefully) headed in that direction.

It was, in fact, a good time. Rocketship X-M was pretty bad, but D.O.A. is a bit of a blast - cheesy at times, but energetic, and blessed with one of the greatest hooks a noir has ever had (what Crank did with that basic idea was borderline criminal). It'd been a long day, so I nodded off a bit during X-M, with Kate threatening to bring this up if we wound up tied for most films seen during the Watch-a-Thon.

It had more or less stopped snowing when we got out, but what traffic there was seemed to be moving pretty darn slow and there weren't many cabs to be found. I told Kate it was okay to crash at my place, and we headed there. The walk was kind of invigorating, getting the blood flowing and the like. We turned on the TV to watch Bones (Stephen Fry!), and then... it was weird. We shared a look, and then we somehow knew it would be okay. We kissed. We broke it off and looked at each other.

She gave me a little half laugh. Are we that lonely?

Well, I said, I had a crush on you the first time I saw you. But since then, I got so used to everything, and I thought I just outgrew it...

Evidently not, she says, and then kisses me, hard. We somehow make our way to my bed, and...

Well, I'll give Kate her privacy. The next morning, she was adamant I not write about it, at least not until she was sure. But as you might expect, I've been able to think of little else since. We saw each other again the next night, when we both had tickets for a show by the Alloy Orchestra, and it was awkward. But we met up again when the Alloy accompanied The General on Saturday afternoon, and we were all like "I missed you", spending the whole day together.

Bizarre. Anyway, we told people tonight, so it's okay for me to write about. I'll probably write more when Kate and I figure out just what we've fallen into.

-Marti

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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at JaySeaver@comcast.net