Tomorrow I have the day off. Tomorrow Conny arrives. And I am still not in bed.

I can't even really sleep in tomorrow because I want to fuss even more on the apartment in the morning. My problem is my fussing is so dreadfully inefficient. If I had busted my ass when I got home, I'd be all done by now. But, I don't want to bust my ass. Instead, I got some stuff done, and generally had a nice, relaxing night. And really, I do my best housecleaning in the morning, when my brain still isn't awake enough to bitch about what I am doing. The apartment is in great shape, though, so it's not like I really need to do anything. I'm just a perfectionist when it comes to first impressions.

But, it's not really a first impression, is it? I am not meeting a stranger at the airport tomorrow. I am meeting a friend. A friend I've never really seen or spoken to. And yet, she is willing to fly across the ocean and be a guest in my home, and I am awash in anticipation and enthusiasm. I know Internet relationships are odd things. They tend to be part illusion, part projection and always larger than life. She knows this too, and she is as wary as I am. There is always the risk that reality will burst the bubble of make-believe, and that the flesh and blood won't live up to the bits and bytes. So I check in with myself and I know that I do not yet have romantic feelings for her. There really is no illusion to shatter. But there is an intensity to my interest in her as person that keeps me awake tonight. I have a driving desire to know her more deeply. Maybe a less analytical person would label that desire a romantic feeling. Or maybe I am still very naive about the nature of my own feelings.

Meeting her and spending time with her cannot disappoint me because I don't have a set goal for our relationship. Whatever happens will be fine. The exciting part for me, right now, is that I don't see any boundries yet. That doesn't mean I'm in a rush to find them, it just means there are nothing but possibilities.

Why do I know that Conny will check this before she catches her flight? Just call it intuition...




I hate to tell Sleipnir that I felt bad his counter was so low, so I sat on his page and hit refresh a bunch of times. Mercy hits, I suppose, or pehaps malice hits. You need to analyze the log, James, if you really want to know who's coming. That's what we do over here at Nosuch Industries.

There is more to write, including tales of discovery and a great reader contribution, but sleep beckons.
posted 2:04 AM | link |