Anyway! Getting back to the timeline, I realized who it was wearing a burgundy Victorian dress and one of these sorts of masks (Note: Those two pictures are some pals of mine at a wedding and not from this Halloween party) thanks to Sarah's forewarning. For some reason, she didn't make much of a show of being surprised that I knew it was someone I knew when she tipped her snifter of port at me. Matter of fact, she tipped her snifter, I came over and said hello, and she hugged me. So! About that mix I sent her, along with my E-Mail address and all? Apparently she adores it all to crazy. She didn't say she was listening to it "non-stop", but she said some other adverbial phrase that implied near constant listening. She also rhetorically asked how I knew her so well, given how perfect the songs were for her.
When I pointed out that she could give me a song-by-song review of what bits she does and doesn't like via the E-Mail address in the liner notes, it seems she just hadn't noticed that part yet. Guess I should have put the E-Mail address in extra-special bold boldface? We talked about the mix for a few minutes and were having some troubles since she didn't know the song names and could only cite vague snippets (EG: that one song where the guy sounds like a businessman, talking about sweet and sour things. -- that was her description of They Might Be Giants covering "Savoy Truffle", by the by). I then recalled that I'd copied the mix to the computer at work, so I suggested that if she wanted to go through it song by song, we could adjourn to the downstairs office and listen to it that way.
Surprisingly or not, I didn't do my usual 'just briskly walk right there and pretend to be annoyed at the following person when they get lost' schtick. Seems she really liked the Jesca Hoop, and would want to hear more from her or more like her, but darker. She apparently hadn't heard Morphine before, and really liked Candy. I explained to her about how there's a limited number of Morphine albums since Mr. Sandman died, but how the really slick sounding bass is a two-string fretless (basically a hillbilly washtub bass). When I played the snippet of Summer's the Worst, she laughed and clapped her hands, "Like this! This is what I mean about the songs being perfect! I hate the summertime!"
Since it's she and I talking, the conversation was hardly linear. At one point, she asked around when I got off work. A number of points later, she asked how often I work. More points later, she asked when I go to work. After the last one, though, she suggested meeting up for lunch at some point?
*le swo- ok, I'll stop with the swooning
Some of the other random bits involved her asking when my birthday was, saying (in a positive way) that it looked like I'd put on a bit of weight since she last saw me (..I've no clue about that..), and talking about various music bits (sometimes due to what was playing, sometimes related to what was playing, sometimes left field). At one point she asked if I could adjust the bow tying her mask on (For those keeping track at home, even though she had a mask covering the top half of her face, she still had the bindi on her forehead underneath) -- let me tell you, it's far easier tying a mask-bow when the mask-wearer has well-kept dreadlocks instead of standard hair (like Zoë Keating, except dreaded to the roots and sandy blonde). Still, for some reason it struck me as oddly...intimate?...that she'd ask/have me do that. I also notice that she kept touching me (Note: If I were telling you this aloud, I'd be hunching my shoulders and pretending to say it in an "ew!" way); tapping her fingers on my shoulder when making a point, tapping her fingers on my arm when she was noting a particular song she liked, et cetera.
Oh! And when I'd get all caught up in talking about the music (like when I started playing random TMBG songs for her when she said she'd never heard them), not watching her as I was rattling on, and then looking back at her? She was often giving me that "monkey that just climbed up on her head" look that I've mentioned before. And since I was able to spend about half an hour talking with her, crouching no more than a foot and half away from where she was sitting, I was able to get a better look at her face.
See, I've no real clue whatsover how old she is. All I can say for sure is she's over 21 and probably under 30. So far, I've been a bit worried that she's at the low end of that scale, but in sitting so close and seeing her face so well lit, and thus seeing the structure around her eyes and "smile lines"? She might actually be more towards the high end of that scale.
After 20-30 minutes of this, she said she should get upstairs since her ride would be showing up soon (Note: Now that I think about it, given that departure and the details of her arrival, it seems she might have shown up purely to see me?). As we headed back upstairs we passed by where my iPod+Stereo was playing more Jesca Hoop, to which she started to do this little twirling half-dance.
Much to the complaint of my co-workers, when they were asking me about it all afterwards? No, I didn't get any phone number, E-Mail address, nor physical address from her, nor did I really ask. I'm sorry, but it just doesn't come up in our conversations! So, yet again, we wait for her to E-Mail me.