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Personal Journal 0306 NByr4
Mar. 6th, 2010 09:46 pm“Curiouser and curiouser!” cried Alice (Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll)
(egads, please insert the standard Bookworm private journal disclaimer here. "waves hands")
I'm back at my desk, to recount all of this...while part of me is saying there is nothing going on, part of my mind is screaming and pointing that something is not right. Maybe I am getting old and complacent.
It all started earlier this weekend. I was feeling rather like taking a walk to get a bit of air and to enjoy the warmth of the spring air, so I headed out of the salon and worked my way along Academy Downs towards the depot. As I passed the MacBain house, I caught a bit of music from a cylinder machine floating out the window, so I figured I'd be social and stop in. Proximity and circumstance had given me an opportunity to become friends with Stargirl, and since Kaylee moved in I like stopping in and checking on the both of them.
I knocked, and heard Kaylee's voice say come in. I walked upstairs, and what I saw was disquieting funny ... odd? Kaylee sat in the chair by the fireplace, dressed in a very fine dress, ankles crossed demurely, reading a book. As long as I have known her, this was not a typical pose, or behavior. I was really willing to give her a pass on the dress, since I myself have tried to wear skirts a bit more often myself. But this was almost beyond the pale...I mean, I have seen Kaylee in ballgowns for some of the Piermont affairs, but she always kids me that it was almost under duress...the running joke was that you can't recalibrate a throttle governor in crinoline. Yet there she was....the other bit was the reading material itself. I know she reads penny dreadfuls, or technical manuals...but this was proper literature.
We chatted for a bit, and I felt like I was talking to a stranger in many ways. I noted a touch of fear and apprehension in her voice...not so much from things, but it felt like she was scared of me. It was like we were strangers, not friends who had fought invasions, disarmed devices, and rescued people from merfolk together.
I looked at my watch and decided that I should go. Just before I did, Star walked in and sat down on the couch. She was dressed in workboots and trousers, and sat in a casual sprawl that I would have more expected of her roommate. We exchanged cheerful hellos and goodbyes, and I walked out and immediately headed to the cafe for some coffee.
Something's going on. I can sense it in my guts, despite the casual assurances from both of them that it is just a joke.
I need more coffee.
(egads, please insert the standard Bookworm private journal disclaimer here. "waves hands")
I'm back at my desk, to recount all of this...while part of me is saying there is nothing going on, part of my mind is screaming and pointing that something is not right. Maybe I am getting old and complacent.
It all started earlier this weekend. I was feeling rather like taking a walk to get a bit of air and to enjoy the warmth of the spring air, so I headed out of the salon and worked my way along Academy Downs towards the depot. As I passed the MacBain house, I caught a bit of music from a cylinder machine floating out the window, so I figured I'd be social and stop in. Proximity and circumstance had given me an opportunity to become friends with Stargirl, and since Kaylee moved in I like stopping in and checking on the both of them.
I knocked, and heard Kaylee's voice say come in. I walked upstairs, and what I saw was disquieting funny ... odd? Kaylee sat in the chair by the fireplace, dressed in a very fine dress, ankles crossed demurely, reading a book. As long as I have known her, this was not a typical pose, or behavior. I was really willing to give her a pass on the dress, since I myself have tried to wear skirts a bit more often myself. But this was almost beyond the pale...I mean, I have seen Kaylee in ballgowns for some of the Piermont affairs, but she always kids me that it was almost under duress...the running joke was that you can't recalibrate a throttle governor in crinoline. Yet there she was....the other bit was the reading material itself. I know she reads penny dreadfuls, or technical manuals...but this was proper literature.
We chatted for a bit, and I felt like I was talking to a stranger in many ways. I noted a touch of fear and apprehension in her voice...not so much from things, but it felt like she was scared of me. It was like we were strangers, not friends who had fought invasions, disarmed devices, and rescued people from merfolk together.
I looked at my watch and decided that I should go. Just before I did, Star walked in and sat down on the couch. She was dressed in workboots and trousers, and sat in a casual sprawl that I would have more expected of her roommate. We exchanged cheerful hellos and goodbyes, and I walked out and immediately headed to the cafe for some coffee.
Something's going on. I can sense it in my guts, despite the casual assurances from both of them that it is just a joke.
I need more coffee.
