My friend was able to watch the game, and I was able to practice my being out in public skills without too much angst. I only had to go to the Ladies twice to splash a little cold water on my wrists and do a little deep breathing, so we're calling this a win.
I would love to tell you that I made further progress on RVC, but alas, I did not. The events of the last week combined with my kidney issues have left me with a splintering headache that made it problematic. No matter how hard I tried, the light and concentrating just hurt my eyes.
Today, though, I am determined.
Now on to more interesting matters...my gentleman caller.
I thought about teasing you with a multiple choice game or a week long reveal of facts about him, but that seemed somehow...odd. Even for me. So instead, I will tell you that he is someone I've known for a long time. We met in January of 1991 at an industry trade show in Dallas, Texas when he hosted a dinner for the company I was working for. (The name of the restaurant was Joey Tomatoes of Atlantic City and he wore a black shirt and sport coat, which was very exotic to this Indiana girl.)
(I had penne with a spicy marinara sauce and a Long Island Iced Tea.)
I don't think we said more than a few words to each other that evening, but later that year when I was in Phoenix recovering from thyroid cancer, I would hear my dad on the phone each morning saying "Hi, Rich. Yes, she is still recovering well and had her last treatment, etc etc." When I asked my dad who it was that he was talking to, he would say "Your friend Rich from New Jersey".
The truth is that I thought it was a college friend named Rich, since he was the only person I could think of that I knew/had met from there.
But it turned out to be this Rich.
From New Jersey.i
Once I regained my voice and had returned to South Bend, he and I would talk on the phone for hours at a time. And then I packed up my little Pontiac Sunbird and I moved to New Jersey to work for and with him for almost 13 years.
We started as business acquaintences and became friends, and now...
My friend is tall, of Italian decent, from Atlantic City, New Jersey, and is eleven years older than I am. He is the smartest, funniest, kindest, and most interesting person I've ever met, and I'm fairly certain that I knew he was the love of my life the moment I met him. He is a Libra, a good cook, loves to read, and knows more about sports than anybody I've ever met. He is equally as happy in a ballroom as he is a bowling alley, and has probably attended as many museum events as he has rock concerts. He still calls this thing of ours "knitting", but...baby steps on that one.
He is pathologically shy in public, but with his friends can be the life of the party. He is loyal and generous and decent and the thing that tells me he truly was sent from beyond at the exact moment I needed him is that my dad adored him.
There are other eerie facts that, over the years, convinced me that he was it:
His initials are the exact reverse of my own.
He has a brother five years younger...I have a sister five years younger.
He lost his dad when he was 21...I lost my mom when I was 21.
His dad's nickname was Jiggs. My mom's nickname was Sig.
I think there are about a hundred other things that I could tell you, but it occurs to me that I have (yet again) gone completely 'round the bend and you probably feel like you're getting ready to watch a car/train collision or a soap opera wedding. Maybe we/I should pace ourselves on this one, no?
So, my Dearies, that's the report on a Monday from the blissfully giddy confines of CS2 on a September Monday. I hope that your own heart is full of love and that whatever it is you're doing makes you ridiculously happy.