Tea with Mark

Went out for tea with Mark.  He had finished a class in the early afternoon, and I figured that he would have another one in the late afternoon or early evening, but he didn't, so we talked about about four and a half hours.  There are so few people in my life I can talk to for such long periods of time, and Mark is definitely one of them. 
As usual, Mark and I spent a ton of time talking about poetry.  He and some other mutual friends are all right now into Ann Carson, and Mark showed me one of her books.  I had heard of her before, but I had never actually seen any of her poetry.  And I could see why he was showing it to me.  There was something very prosy about it, but also something inherently intellectual and academic.  They were tight little pieces.  He had borrowed the book from a friend, and we both admired her handwriting, which decorated the margins. 
We also talked about book design.  There's this one cover for a poetry book that we both thing is miserably bad.  I told him my idea for an alternative cover, one that did a better job of displaying the title poem and looked prettier. 
"Well, do you ever think about what you'd want your poetry books to look like?" he asked. 
Oh, of course.  I fantasize about it all the time.  I don't think I'm silly enough to believe I'll ever publish a book of poetry, but I think about it. 
"I usually think of the art for the book as being highly related to the content.  So, I'm working on some science-related poems, and I'd like the book to be decorated with old school science drawings, the kind you see in old textbooks." 
Thinking of it, I'd really like to see some of Mark's poetry.  It's been a while since I looked at anything of his, though, the more I think about what I saw, the more impressed I am by it. 
We also reminisced about classes we took.  I confessed that Emily was sort of turned off by the way he use to talk, which maybe I shouldn't have told him.  I followed it up with "But I defended you because you had just changed your major and we're probably still finding your feet," which was how I felt at the time.  Plus, I honestly felt like Emily was being a tad persnickety.  I love Emily, but this was one of the few times I disagreed with her.  Mark wasn't that hard to understand.  
I might have also admitted my momentary annoyance with Mark.  When we first met, I didn't really have any thoughts on him either way, because I didn't know him.  Then he started always sitting with me in class, and because I had lots of friends in this class I found myself wishing he didn't.  But after a week or two I realized I really liked him and that he was my friend.
This this weird tendency around here for things to be super intense super quickly.  Natalie once described this happening to her and Mike.  They met and BAM!  They were best friends.  This was what happened to Mark.  We spent very little time between acquaintance and mutual adoration. 
It was mostly quiet in the tea house, but this punk guy sat down near us for a while, while I probably talked poor Mark's ear off.  
Mark told me a little about his upcoming trip to Germany.  He told me that he had wanted to go to London, but because of the price of hotels, he decided not to.  Instead, he's going to live in a tiny town near the French border.  What exactly he's doing academically, I'm not sure.  He apparently speaks very good German, so I'm hoping that in addition to the usual fun travel stuff (getting to know a new place, meeting new people, speaking the local language) maybe he'll be studying German literature.  There's a lot of important work that was done in both German romanticism and expressionism. 
While we were sitting there, Justin's roommate, came in and said hi.  He recognized me because I had met him recently.
"Are you two dating?" he asked. 
It seems like Mark and I have been getting that one a lot lately.  Mark said no. 
"We're more like work partners," I said, thinking about how frequently we worked on various projects together.  An idea occurred to me.  "We're more like partners in crime," I said.  Justin's roommate sort of chuckled at us for saying that. 
Eventually, I had to cut our chat to an end because I was meeting Gary for sushi down the street.  When Mark had originally asked me for tea, I thought that I would have plenty of time in between tea and sushi.  I was going to go lock myself in a study room and try to write.  But clearly, Mark and I were having so much fun, I almost lost track of time. 
Gary wasn't going to let me though.  About ten minutes before my sushi date, he texted me that he was going to be two minutes late.  That's right: two minutes.  I found this weirdly funny, because I can't think of anyone who texts to say two minutes.  I don't even know if it's necessary to text if it's five, because it seems like everyone I know runs on a minimum five minute late schedule of some kind or another. 
Mark thought this was funny too. 
Three minutes later, Gary texted again to tell me he was going to be on time, and Mark and I both found this funny. 
"He's like that.  One day you'll have to meet him," I said.  I had already told him tons about Jimmy. 

Tea with Christine

I went out for tea with Christine and her aide.  She took me to this new teahouse that recently opened.  Christine had apparently been there, but I had never even heard of it until maybe March or April. 
I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this tea house.  I had a giant chi tea, which was really good once I added about eight packets of sugar to it.  Christine just got herself some Earl Gray, which is notoriously her favorite.  I have to admit that I like Earl Gray too (there are few teas I don't like, just things flavored mint or peppermint, which I don't like anyway.) 
Christine sort of caught me up on all that's been going on in her life.  Mostly, this means Doctor Who.  I'm grateful that I love the show too, because with her it is almost all she talks about.  Even Dave, one of out mutual friends, has mentioned this, and I know he doesn't watch the show.
Christine loves Matt Smith and she talks about what she thinks of the show.  We theorized about who River Song is.  (This was before the recent episode, which did answer some questions, but not all.)  We talked a little about Sherlock, another show Christine loves. 
Christine almost always has someone around taking care of her, and her aide was a young woman training to be a nurse.  She was nice.  She talked about being from Grand Rapids and how driving to and from there was miserable.  When she saw the purse I had with me, she asked if I had been on a trip recently. 
It's not as strange of a question as you would think.  The purse is usually sold to people going abroad.  I use it mostly when I have to. 
I sort of hate carrying purses, mostly because they're such a womanly thing.  I usually would just carry a big bag, like a tote or a backpack or a messenger bag.  I want to carry a wallet like guys do, but I am increasingly suspicious that women's jeans are designed so that you can't fit a wallet in them.  (Maybe this means it is time to invest in men's jeans.)
Christine and I also talked poetry and this upcoming conference she is going to.  She actually helped set it up with some mutual friends.  It sounds like it is turning into a really big thing, because she said they had tons of people they had to turn down both in terms of speakers and attendees.
I sort of wish that I could do something like that in English, because it sounds like a lot of fun.  I don't know where I would even begin with something like that.  I've never even worked at a conference or convention or anything equivalent.  I think I would want to get some experience doing that first before I dove into something that huge. 
Afterward, Christine, her aide and I walked home together.  Christine and her aide dropped me off near my place.  At the front door, a whole group of my friends were standing outside, taking pictures.  It made me smile to see all of them. 

Confusion

On Thanksgiving, I got this tea pot/hot pad thing.  I'm not really sure how to describe it, because no one has ever given me a name for it before, but basically it's a plastic pitcher with a big grand wire in it that you turn on and it heats up the contents of the pitcher.  I had one two years ago, in the summer of 2008, and back then I used it to make tea, which I was drinking with every meal.
Today I turned this new one on and again attempted to make tea.  It worked fine, though it might have damaged the surface of my desk a little.  I don't know what I'm going to do about that, other than try to find somewhere else to make it that won't destroy furniture.  (The floor maybe?  Though I don't want to burn the carpet.) 
Anyway, after the tea was made I went downstairs to pinch some sugar.  I try really hard to drink my tea without, but if it's not a fruity tea I really struggle to make that happen.  This was close enough to English Breakfast that I wasn't going to get far. 
I ran into Susan in the elevator.  "What are you going there for?" she asked, noting my destination. 
"Just going to get some sugar.  I made tea." 
"You're going to put it in your hand?"
What?  "The tea's in my room," I answered, not sure what to say.  Lately people sort of babble at me and say such strange things that sometimes I'm honestly not sure how to answer.  I honestly don't understand what they're saying. 
Then she saw me later.  "Oh, the sugar's in packets," she said.
Er, yes, but now I understand your confusion.