Diaryface is coming to town!

Regular readers of Musings are familiar with the term, “Diaryface”. They may not know who she is, or understand the kind of relationship we share, but they are aware of her presence in my life since she’s featured here more than once. She’s a person I’ve never even met yet, but who knows much too much about me. Kindred spirits, like the kind Anne Shirley talks of with such fervor. Creepily alike, but poles apart. Someone who "not only tolerates my incessant ramblings, but actually manages to acquire the underlying sense behind them."

For six months, my Diaryface and I have anticipated the event of us coming face-to-face. We have six months worth of daily mails filled with, “When I get there…” and “When you get here…” and so on. We’ve made mental lists of things to do and places to go, people to meet and stuff to eat. And now, “DiaryfaceMeetsDiaryface” happens TOMORROW. Within 24 hours, diaryfaceness will be brought to chai-drinking, cigarette-smoking, violently affectionate, bossy life. I'm sure it will be peppered with fights and arguments with a scrawny being, as to who will spend how much time where and when and all that, but that’s alright. This event has been awaited for so long, that I’ll take it anyhow. She made me promise things yesterday, when she called to say she's in the country, things I wasn’t too happy to oblige to, but then I obliged anyway because she’s a Diaryface and it’s not everyday a Diaryface is procured! Not only that, she tends to be a little scary sometimes. Only, don’t ever tell her I admitted to that.

TOMORROW. Words fail me when I try to describe what tomorrow will be. All I can say (in addition to the disbelief I feel that it’s already here!) when I think about tomorrow is this: EEEEEEEEEK!