Nekkid, Clueless and Feelin' Good: April 4, 2001

Wednesday,
April 4, 2001

GodDAMN, that was fast

Pardon my french, but sacre merde!

Lyndon has his green card. And I mean, he's actually holding it (or the green card pack -- he'll receive the actual card in a couple of months) in his hot, sweaty little hands. Apparently the embassy called him first thing this morning to tell him that they'd received the documents, and did he want them to put his GC pack in the mail or would he like to come down to the embassy and pick it up himself?

Well, duh, Timmy, what do YOU think?

So he bopped down to the embassy and picked it up, and now I do believe that my sweet beloved is walking on air because come hell or high water, he's coming over for Easter. If his manager won't send him over on business, he said, he'll buy a bucket shop ticket and come over on his own dime. But there was no way he was staying away from Texas now.

Imagine my grin. Hell, imagine his. Poor pookie -- he's been so stressed for the last four months, sweating out this whole process with no visible light at the end of the tunnel. At least I have the writer's group, local friends and stuff to do here -- he's been stuck in a tiny apartment in the icebox of Europe with nothing to do but rent movies, go out to see movies, and count the days. Not to mention being apart from me, which he doesn't do well for short periods of time. We haven't seen each other since January.

No wonder he's been climbing the walls.

But all that ends as soon as he gets here. He'll start gaming again, he can take all those pictures he's been talking about this year, he can add the extra motherboard to the G3 and start teaching himself how to make and edit movies (including custom CGI) -- my God, he'll have a LIFE for the first time in four years.

And, of course, there will be much soppy and goopy affection being flung about the place with wild abandon. Why do you think we're so hot to go out and buy a new bed?

Plano isn't going to know what hit it. Heh, heh, heh. . .

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