Great little fic. Very hot. Very clever really. It reminded me of something I'd write, not to sound obnoxious. Took me by surprise, actually. (Also made me wonder if Peter would be asking me to shave him when we finally meet. You have to read the fic to understand that one.)
I'm still eating and not sleeping much. Maybe it is about next week.
I got the time off approved.
I got the bonus (not as much as it could have been, but enough to pay for a nice little vacation).
I'm flying to San Francisco for a couple days, we'll see the sights, take a little wine tour (I'm a merlot fan), then we're all driving (in a rental) back down here for Disneyland and other kid stuff. At the end of next week we'll drive to Palm Springs (in my car) for two nights, and Peter and PJ will fly home from there.
That's the plan. Ambitious, yes? Sound a little manic? Maybe. Yes, a lot of driving (which gives us time for tunes and talking). I do love a road trip. This will probably be boring for PJ, though. I can't help but wonder.
A day or two at Disneyland (Peter thinks PJ will be sick of it after a day, but he isn't sure). We'll cram into my condo (hope the sleeping arrangements have worked themselves out by then), and I'll get a chance to show Peter my favorite haunts. Then, after another drive, a nice resort hotel in Palm Springs (where we've already booked a suite). It'll be hotter than hell, but the rates are good this time of year, and the pool and bars will be fabulous. (The kid will have his laptop.)
Wow. I can't believe I'm going on a family vacation, my first in 15 years! I'll be spending eight days and nine nights with a guy I've never met and his eleven-year-old son!
(And who said the internet was a dangerous place?)
So what needs to clear up by then?
The bruise on my left knee where I bashed it when I got into the shower yesterday.
The bump (dare I say "pimple") inside my left ear that doesn't show but drives me nuts.
No rashes or other booboos worth mentioning. No ingrown hairs, blemishes, rashes or anything of that nature.
My hair is a good length. I could probably be leaner, but I won't sweat it unless I keep eating carbs for the rest of the week. (Do guys cycle? I could swear I'm doing that.)
I'm getting my teeth cleaned tomorrow. And I'm tanning Tuesday and Thursday.
And I'll start obsessing about wardrobe at around 11:00 a.m. tomorrow, just to keep on some kind of schedule.
I catch a late-night flight on Friday. Peter's picking me up at the airport alone, and as I write this, I'm getting a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach anticipating that moment. I'm a little breathless just thinking about it.
What if I don't want him at first sight? Or, what if I do, and he doesn't want me?
Can't we just fast-forward to PS and snuggle up in the suite already?
Skip that last. I can't wait for that first sight at the airport, and I wouldn't want to miss a second of it, regardless of my neuroses. Damn. I hate that you can't meet people at the gate anymore. But he's going to be waiting just past the security checkpoint. And he says he'll wear a pink carnation or something so I'll know it's him.
(No, it would be anti-climatic to just email me the photo.)
He's really a doll.
Time for FLOM2. He promised he'd watch it tonight and either email or call me.
I'm starting to feel a little emotional. There's some sense of inevitability about this whole thing.
The guy is going to love me.
(It's PJ I'm worried about.)