Sam and I talk on the phone every night, as I think I've mentioned. And we've talked on the phone every night since that's all we have- that and Instant Messaging plus emails. All telecommunication mediums. I don't think I've ever loved technology so much.
We talk every night. We revel in the chaos that is our lives and how to blend us together over the thousands of miles and the Pond that separates.
S0, yes we talk every night- usually a few hours, until the wee hours of the morning in Ireland, when he should be in bed sleeping, but instead he's telling me anything and everything just mere hours before he needs to get up and go to the office. We whisper secrets into the dark, share our fears and thoughts about everything, we share our past lives, our desires, wants, needs, and play 'what if' with our future, our stories, and many many laughs. We just click, in a strange way that is so very good. And he's quoted some movie (neither of us can remember which one- When Harry Met Sally?!) because he said it sums up how he feels very well. He said he likes that he wants my voice to be the last one he hears at night before he sleeps... and he can't wait until it's the first one he hears in the morning... Oh my. Oh my oh my oh my.
Sam went to Amsterdam this weekend for business. Well, Friday and Saturday were in Amsterdam for pleasure- a mini vacation- and then Sunday until Wednesday are business in a town about 30 minutes outside of the city. And while in Amsterdam, he is enjoying... a particular offering of the city which is legal. He also told me that he MUST keep conversations on Sunday through Tuesday nights brief so he can get some sleep and be at the top of his game for business with potential new clients. Now, to recap the weekend talks: our conversation on Friday was brief; he booked my ticket and we chatted about his trip and my upcoming visit and the wonders of the State Department and my First Passport Ever. Saturday afternoon he called and it was... a brief conversation, which made me laugh and he doesn't remember.
Then there was Sunday night's phone call. Or shall I say calls? He called and I wasn't near my phone and he left a delightful message. (Some of you who've known me for a loooong time will get the ironic humour here.) He said "I'm in The Middle of Fucking Nowhere, Holland and have no Internet and no cell service. I'll try back in a half hour. If you want to call me, here's my hotel phone number and room number..." He called a second time and again, I missed the call- Mac and I were playing music in the car way too loudly. That message said, "Sorry I missed you again. If you get this message in the next 10 minutes, give me a call." This one came in about... 1:45 AM his time. I missed the 10 minute window so I figured I was just out a phone call from him, for the first time in over a month, damn it!
Ah, but I was wrong... he called me at 2 am his time. Because he missed talking to me before bed time. Because the weekend didn't allow for our regular phone call routine. Because he has it bad for me. Because he doesn't sleep as well if he doesn't chat with me before bed. Because of me. I couldn't stop smiling because it was 2 am in the morning, he was seeing clients at 7 am and he missed me, wanted to hear the sound of my voice. Even though he told me last week we couldn't have a late night chat, he still called me. He likes me, he really likes me! This boy has it BAD!!!!
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, don't tell, but guess what? So do I!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Somebody likes me lots,
Maggie
Showing posts with label curl my toes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label curl my toes. Show all posts
Monday, February 23, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
If you're going to talk the talk, be ready to walk the walk (or "why I went to Pittsburgh for 24 hours")
Spontaneity. I have always claimed that I'm a spontaneous person. Until last week, though, I would say that my spontaneity was usually on a small level. Dance in the rain. Midnight walks in the snow. Random trips to a movie theater. Small stuff.
My move to the Wild West was rather spontaneous to an extent-- the fact that it all happened so quickly was what made it seem crazy spontaneous, but I'd wanted to teach HS and had wanted to live in the Wild West for a long time so it was going to happen at some point in my life. The turn around was fast so I guess it was "organized" spontaneity, if you will.
Okay, now I need to tell you something else. Follow me here: some of you might remember that I signed up accidentally, of course, for an Irish dating service. It was free. So, what you might not know, is that I've been communicating via email with an American who lives in Dublin. He took a transfer with his company and has been in the Emerald Isle for about 6 months. He and I have been emailing and it had been great fun to talk to him- an American perspective of Ireland, a place I desperately want to see!
This AmericaninIreland Sam is funny and he is an excellent correspondent. Our email exchanges are fun and lively and full of wit and intelligence, sometimes reaching rather Tolstoy-esque lengths. He can write complete sentences. He likes to read and to travel. He's thoughtful. He's smart. He has a delicious sense of humour. He's a bit handsome, well, quite a bit handsome. He's well versed in politics- and is a Democrat.
He's such a Democrat that before he went across the Pond he campaigned for President Obama. He lived in DC so that was easy for him to do. He was such a supporter and believer that he traveled around the US to do some campaigning. He is such a supporter and believer that he came to DC last week for the Inaugural Festivities. He had Ball tickets and tickets to be on the Mall for the ceremony. So, he was in DC.
We chatted on the phone TONS once he got State side. And we emailed. And then we broke all dating rules. We talked and emailed all the time and said to hell with the three date rule- who can wait three days when he's only in the US for a week? And then he called on Tuesday night with a crazy proposal: Would I meet him half way between DC and Civilization? He priced plane tickets for both of us to any airport that lay between us and the most affordable plan was for us to meet in Pittsburgh, PA. That was halfway. For a date. Would I do it? It was crazy, silly, absurd-- but... since I've always claimed that I like to fly by the seat of my pants, that I've always wanted to be in love like a movie, because it felt right, all the elements came together, so...YES!
Yes, I drove to Pittsburgh, PA on Thursday to meet my AmericaninIreland Sam, for a 24 hour long date. We had from 3 pm Thursday until 2 pm Friday, when he had to get back on a plane, get back to DC so he could prepare to fly back to Dublin Saturday night. Yes, dear readers, I drove to Pittsburgh, PA for a date.
The greatest first date story in history!
Sam is as great in person as he is on paper- at least he was for 24 hours. There is a part of me which would love to babble on and on about how great he is then there's the other part of myself which I chide my naive thinking that he's great because I have such the terrible track record with men. But Sam is grand. Handsome, witty, so very smart, a gentleman, such a flirt, interesting, romantic, sexy, silly... ack- this could be very very bad since he lives in IRELAND, for goddess sake!
We had a great time and couldn't seem to stop talking. We stayed at the Pittsburgh Hilton and basically marinated in each other for 24 hours. We talked forever and listened to music and talked books, politics, life, past, present, future, work everything. We talked about everything and practically could finish each other's sentences. This was amazing and nearly perfect. He brought me some nice Inaugural gifts- a pink commemorative hat and sweatshirt. A button. A copy of The Onion. And-- well... he brought me a gourmet box of chocolates. Heart shaped. Since he wouldn't be able to see me on Valentine's Day. Yes, my darlin' readers, the man remembered Valentine's Day 3 weeks early since he knew we couldn't be together. I. just. about.died. on. the spot. from the romanticness of it all.
I had picked him up at the airport- in addition to his airplane ticket he also paid for the Hilton and all meals, so it seemed silly to have him rent a car. We hugged and kissed in the airport like long lost friends. Then we didn't shut up, hardly, for the next 24 hours. It was wonderful... and yes, I'm gushing with emotion here- and I don't care!
He's sweet, he curls my toes. I like him. So- what next? Well, we sort of developed a code word as to whether or not this was just a shot in the dark, a one time deal... or maybe should it be more. The code word was "passport"- since I don't have one. So we're standing in the airport preparing for his departure. We're talking and he leans close and whispers "passport" in my ear, very softly. So...
And- yes, I've heard from him several times since he left. Several emails and a very looooong phone call- in which we both agreed we hate the ocean that lies between us and the gods were certainly bored to do this- we have our own level of Dante's hell....
What do we do now? Other than he and I both have decided to hate the Pond...well, we both know this is insane and the distance is beyond terrible. The tentative plan is to meet in San Fransisco, CA in April when he comes State side for a business trip, for 10 days. Yes, that's 10 weeks away and we both know lots can happen between now and then. Hell, anything can happen between now and then. But right now, if all the emails, phone calls, texts, chats and letters go according to plan- then San Fran is the plan. By then my passport should arrive and we'll talk trip to Dublin in the summer.
This is so very, very bad. And so very, very good.
Long shots. Craziness. Insanity. Spontaneity. And I will say, I think I could be a fan of Pittsburgh, of all places. Other great romances have Paris, Rome, the Empire State Building--- well, no matter what happens with him, more or nothing... we'll always have... Pittsburgh.
Your adventurous one,
Maggie
My move to the Wild West was rather spontaneous to an extent-- the fact that it all happened so quickly was what made it seem crazy spontaneous, but I'd wanted to teach HS and had wanted to live in the Wild West for a long time so it was going to happen at some point in my life. The turn around was fast so I guess it was "organized" spontaneity, if you will.
Okay, now I need to tell you something else. Follow me here: some of you might remember that I signed up accidentally, of course, for an Irish dating service. It was free. So, what you might not know, is that I've been communicating via email with an American who lives in Dublin. He took a transfer with his company and has been in the Emerald Isle for about 6 months. He and I have been emailing and it had been great fun to talk to him- an American perspective of Ireland, a place I desperately want to see!
This AmericaninIreland Sam is funny and he is an excellent correspondent. Our email exchanges are fun and lively and full of wit and intelligence, sometimes reaching rather Tolstoy-esque lengths. He can write complete sentences. He likes to read and to travel. He's thoughtful. He's smart. He has a delicious sense of humour. He's a bit handsome, well, quite a bit handsome. He's well versed in politics- and is a Democrat.
He's such a Democrat that before he went across the Pond he campaigned for President Obama. He lived in DC so that was easy for him to do. He was such a supporter and believer that he traveled around the US to do some campaigning. He is such a supporter and believer that he came to DC last week for the Inaugural Festivities. He had Ball tickets and tickets to be on the Mall for the ceremony. So, he was in DC.
We chatted on the phone TONS once he got State side. And we emailed. And then we broke all dating rules. We talked and emailed all the time and said to hell with the three date rule- who can wait three days when he's only in the US for a week? And then he called on Tuesday night with a crazy proposal: Would I meet him half way between DC and Civilization? He priced plane tickets for both of us to any airport that lay between us and the most affordable plan was for us to meet in Pittsburgh, PA. That was halfway. For a date. Would I do it? It was crazy, silly, absurd-- but... since I've always claimed that I like to fly by the seat of my pants, that I've always wanted to be in love like a movie, because it felt right, all the elements came together, so...YES!
Yes, I drove to Pittsburgh, PA on Thursday to meet my AmericaninIreland Sam, for a 24 hour long date. We had from 3 pm Thursday until 2 pm Friday, when he had to get back on a plane, get back to DC so he could prepare to fly back to Dublin Saturday night. Yes, dear readers, I drove to Pittsburgh, PA for a date.
The greatest first date story in history!
Sam is as great in person as he is on paper- at least he was for 24 hours. There is a part of me which would love to babble on and on about how great he is then there's the other part of myself which I chide my naive thinking that he's great because I have such the terrible track record with men. But Sam is grand. Handsome, witty, so very smart, a gentleman, such a flirt, interesting, romantic, sexy, silly... ack- this could be very very bad since he lives in IRELAND, for goddess sake!
We had a great time and couldn't seem to stop talking. We stayed at the Pittsburgh Hilton and basically marinated in each other for 24 hours. We talked forever and listened to music and talked books, politics, life, past, present, future, work everything. We talked about everything and practically could finish each other's sentences. This was amazing and nearly perfect. He brought me some nice Inaugural gifts- a pink commemorative hat and sweatshirt. A button. A copy of The Onion. And-- well... he brought me a gourmet box of chocolates. Heart shaped. Since he wouldn't be able to see me on Valentine's Day. Yes, my darlin' readers, the man remembered Valentine's Day 3 weeks early since he knew we couldn't be together. I. just. about.died. on. the spot. from the romanticness of it all.
I had picked him up at the airport- in addition to his airplane ticket he also paid for the Hilton and all meals, so it seemed silly to have him rent a car. We hugged and kissed in the airport like long lost friends. Then we didn't shut up, hardly, for the next 24 hours. It was wonderful... and yes, I'm gushing with emotion here- and I don't care!
He's sweet, he curls my toes. I like him. So- what next? Well, we sort of developed a code word as to whether or not this was just a shot in the dark, a one time deal... or maybe should it be more. The code word was "passport"- since I don't have one. So we're standing in the airport preparing for his departure. We're talking and he leans close and whispers "passport" in my ear, very softly. So...
And- yes, I've heard from him several times since he left. Several emails and a very looooong phone call- in which we both agreed we hate the ocean that lies between us and the gods were certainly bored to do this- we have our own level of Dante's hell....
What do we do now? Other than he and I both have decided to hate the Pond...well, we both know this is insane and the distance is beyond terrible. The tentative plan is to meet in San Fransisco, CA in April when he comes State side for a business trip, for 10 days. Yes, that's 10 weeks away and we both know lots can happen between now and then. Hell, anything can happen between now and then. But right now, if all the emails, phone calls, texts, chats and letters go according to plan- then San Fran is the plan. By then my passport should arrive and we'll talk trip to Dublin in the summer.
This is so very, very bad. And so very, very good.
Long shots. Craziness. Insanity. Spontaneity. And I will say, I think I could be a fan of Pittsburgh, of all places. Other great romances have Paris, Rome, the Empire State Building--- well, no matter what happens with him, more or nothing... we'll always have... Pittsburgh.
Your adventurous one,
Maggie
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