I saw Mr. Darcy's roommate twice this weekend. (At least, I'm guessing it was his roommate. I have no idea what the living situation is over there.) On Friday, he was on the phone in front of the house. It was fairly dark, which is fine as I was in yoga pants with dirty hair and not a stitch of makeup, carrying the ice cream Twin and I brought home. (Whatever, if he hates ice cream and being comfortable he sucks anyway.) It was light enough, however, that I could tell he is not a troll.
On Saturday, he was mowing the lawn. Non-troll status confirmed. He can stick around.
My Thursday book club discussion took a brief turn as everyone shared ideas for further stalking Netherfield. The ideas ranged from simple (stealing mail to conveniently return later), to complicated (I don't even feel good sharing that one), to classic. (This one requires following the sage advice of Cher Horowitz. I'm supposed to show him how desired I am by sending myself flowers and candy.)
What could possibly go wrong? I mean, other than becoming a full-on stalker.