A geeky girl living in the big city, making her way, the only way she knows how... no wait, that's The Dukes of Hazzard. Who am I again? Oh yeah, a pop culture obsessed writer, publishing person, and occasional nerd. And I'm getting married. I talk about that, too.

Thursday, February 24, 2005


I love love love sharing things with people, and I forget sometimes that not everyone wants to hear all about me, me, me. Then again, what is this place for if not a spot to rant and rave about myself?

Anyway, I find myself having the same conversation over and over again with people, and I don't know if it's because I'm boring, or obsessed. Or just in deep, deep like (not love or lust, but heavy like). Yes, I'm talking about my f.i.b. Last night, at drinks with a colleague, I talked about him again (though I chose to go with the more ephemeral "met through friends" story, rather than reveal the truth. We're not that close). And, listening to myself, I thought it sounded kinda real. I mean, I joke and call him my fake internet boyfriend, and he certainly started as such, but, well, we're talking about more than 1000 emails between us over the last few weeks, some of them very revealing. Do I want to drop the "f" and the "i" and just call him my boyfriend?

Hell yeah. Yes, I very much do, but I have to be careful. If I put too much of myself into this, what'll happen if it all comes to nothing? I very much hope it won't come to nothing... or that it will come to be something, but I... well, I'm cautious.

But very imaginative. Because I can see heading up to Boston this summer on weekends to see him, rather than going down to the shore, or spending time with him here in New York. And we haven't even met yet face-to-face. We haven't even spoken on the phone.

All our communication has been in carefully constructed prose. Emails, text messages, stories and scenes. Good scenes. Very good, at times (and I blush a little as I write that).

But I want the next step. And I want him to want the next step. Because, how much fun would that be?


Thursday, February 17, 2005

My f.i.b. becomes less f.

So, um... wow! Lots to catch up on. My birthday has come and gone, but there's still lots more celebrating to do, so I'm A-OK with that. Maureen, however, wins the "worst birthday ever" award. I will not even begin to try to recap the many levels and layers that added to the suckitude.

And yet, while I have been very busy and occupied hanging out with her, comforting her, totally promising to kick a certain someone's arse six ways to Sunday, or lead a parade of other like-minded individuals to do the same, I must also glow a little about the fun new and exciting step I've taken in my "relationship" with Glow Boy, my f.i.b.

Yes, ladies and germs, we've exchanged digits.

Right, you say. Big whoops. I've done that with random strangers I meet in bars all the time. And ok, yes, I've done that once or twice myself. And we've been communicating pretty damn well without phone conversations for quite some time now -- well over 800 email messages, if that gives you any indication, in less than 2 months, I think. But the really exciting part is why we moved to the phone number exchange. And why is that, exactly?

Because he may be headed down here next weekend, and will therefore need to be in touch with me to tell me when he gets here.


Yesterday was a very, very, very exciting day in our email correspondence. That is all I can safely say for public consumption.


Thursday, February 10, 2005

Yeah baby yeah baby yeah

Just got a note from the senior partner that reads "Happy Birthday Valentine Baby." Yeah, that really does it for my professionalism at work.


Nah, I'm not really making a fuss. I love celebrating my birthday so damn much, I'll take any kind of acknowledgement I can get, even if it does make me feel juvenile in the eyes of the "Eminence Gris" of our company.

In other "out of the blue" news, I got an email yesterday from the Welsh musician I met up at the Celtic Colours festival in October. Almost deleted the email without reading it, actually, since it looked suspiciously like spam, but ended up reading it, and was completely surprised. Seems he's going to be in NYC later this year, and was stuck in a Welsh hotel room with nothing good on the telly, and thought he'd see if he could send me a text message from his phone. Which means he put my email in his phone, or kept it on him somewhere...


Also, I'm compiling a list of reasons to go to Boston that aren't about Glow Boy, but which I could use to see him, and came up with a real humdinger -- go for work! I could meet with a couple of editors from Boston-based publishers, take someone out to lunch, etc. Genius, I tell you, genius. Plus, I could hang out with my friend R. and her baby, who I haven't seen in ages.

The wheels in my little brain just keep on turning, turning, turning. You'd think they get tired, but nope! They don't.

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Banner poll

Having learned a little bit about hosting pictures, and decorating my little blog, am I getting carried away? New exciting banner above. Who likes it?

Monday, February 07, 2005

He is Dead to Me

I'm going to Vegas, baby, Vegas! Flights are booked, hotel is reserved, and all that's left is the boozing and whoring!

Ummm... or something like that. Or not. You know.... whatever.

One thing that will not be happening is any future dates with the aforementioned Boy #1, who is officially off my list. As Yi Shun put it -- he is "Dead To Me."

I guess I'll just have to concentrate on my budding relationship with my fake internet boyfriend (f.i.b.) Glow Boy, and reality be damned!

Friday, February 04, 2005

Got a smile on my face...

I can't keep a smile off my face.

I should be doing work - hell, I have piles of it on my desk: catalogues I need to page through, magazines and manuscripts to read, stories to critique, proposals to submit, interest to note - and all I've done for the entire day is chat with Glow Boy, both in and out of character. Twice the flirting, twice the fun!

Maybe it's a good thing he's not overeager to meet. If I saw him now, in the mood I'm in, I might just jump his bones the second I saw him, and really, that can't be good, can it?


At the same time, Good Ole Boy #1, after I subtly chastised him yesterday for not emailing after our date last week, has apologized for being too shy to... ahem... properly appreciate me last time. No, wait, that's sounds dirtier than I meant it. But we've made plans for next week to try again, see if we get it right this time.

The fireworks, I mean, of course.

Am I just practicing for Glow Boy? Maybe. Is that so wrong? Gah - there I go, planning ahead again. We're in two different cities, with neither of us making any immediate plans to meet. Though I want to. Odd that he's the one more reticent about meeting face to face, isn't it? Aren't I, as the girl, supposed to be the gun-shy one? You hear such horror stories... but then, I've heard lots of success stories too. Misa and Colin technically met online, and look how that worked out.

In any case, I'm smiling.

And it's ten days to my birthday.