Geeky Romance

Part of our love language in our geeky polycule is to buy little things relating to our favourite fandoms. This may be Funko figures, or badges and other memorabilia – but especially it manifests in the purchasing of books. It is a common part of any of our wanderings in town to go into bookshops and keenly observe what we each are drawn to as a clue for birthday and other celebrations.

Lady M has this week been studying for a Foundation ITIL course as part of her work development – and has of course been finding her common sense and experience rewarded in how she has flown through the lessons and excelled at the practice papers.

This is, however, still a stressful week, and so at lunchtime I checked in via text to see how she was doing. Her mock exam had gone well, but a migraine was threatening to develop. Where others may have offered flowers or chocolates, I immediately offered to whisk her away at the weekend for a trip to the bookshop to buy her some books.

This is very much a type of romantic language that I love and appreciate, and a mode of gift-giving I wish to promote. You’re welcome.

Exam Stresses Ahoy


Not mine, just to make that clear, but rather for two of my nearest and dearest. Lady M has picked up her CIPS professional studies again, which she had to put to one side when everything hit the fan at the beginning of the year. The Charleesi is fast approaching her AS levels, and is racing to beat her deadlines for her photography portfolio this week.

It’s not easy seeing the stresses induced by exam periods, and I’m proud of the dedication, discipline, and focus that they are both showing. Even when I’m not around them, I’m reminded of it by the expressions on the faces of the students who come in to the library every day.

I’m getting used to the sighs, the frantic tapping of keyboards, the slightly glazed expressions and the sometimes zombie-like thirst for cups of tea all around me. Hopefully, when they’ve finished their exams, they’ll look back on this blog entry and laugh with me rather than push me down the stairs.

If they are addicted more than usual to the healing power of tea, my own adventures in caffeine took a somewhat dark step last week. We’d cancelled our usual Monday D&D session due to people’s life and work getting in the way, but a certain Lord Danger lives about five minutes’ drive away and I had a birthday present to deliver.

“I’ll put the kettle on.” He said, and I noticed a certain Sir K in the background. I killed the Hangout session and let Lady M know I was popping out. What’s the worst that could happen, I asked?

On my arrival, I was greeted with a large jug of mocha made from the ground up souls of the damned. Sorry I mean: Fucking Strong Coffee,  which Lord Danger had been sent as a gift by his brother. I can only infer that this was in fact an assassination attempt by his brother rather than a token of filial birthday appreciation.

We collapsed on the sofa, cranked up Starsky & Hutch on Netflix, and poured a mug each. Two cups later, I was hearing colours, Lord Danger had leg spasms, and Sir K was having a panic attack. The next morning, I had what can best be described as a caffeine hangover and my reputation for being able to consume outrageous substances was intact.

So far I have resisted buying any for myself, if only because my GP is trying to get my blood pressure to stabilise and taking stupidly powerful stimulants seems a poor way of repaying their efforts.

Maybe I should invest in some Calm The Fuck Down Tea for everyone?