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The Touch Typed Diary - Expectation

Some background to what follows can be found here. Other installments are here.

I started this as a way to train at touch typing (hence the title) which I have finally taken up learning more or less seriously. At first I was typing what nonsense came across my mind and deleted it once I had finished. Gradually, it just turned into a diary relating the events (not very numerous) of my life. This has also the advantage of keeping me relatively busy at work when I have nothing else to do which seem to happen rather frequently these days.

08 February 2002

This is the big day. I have eventually warmed up to the idea of this trip and am now rather excited about it. Today at work is going to be a long day I am sure, especially as there does not seem to be too much to do. I am a bit weary though, as PFM seems to be planning to drag me to a lesbian club. I do not know if she realises that they might not let me in. And even if they do, I might not be the most welcomed punter of the club.

Saturday evening seems to be coming along nicely though. Although nothing has been definitely organised yet, the broad picture seems to be a restaurant with D. and J. (Pascale’s colleague) and then a club. This should be rather nice.

On the home front, my cyber-conversations with P. aka sw2swimmer are going quite well it seems. Last night’s edition, saw him, more involved than usual it seemed. He gave a title to his message and even asked a personal question. For my part, I took another look at his profile…and his picture. What is available to the eye of the beholder is, I must say, quite interesting. I would not mind if we really got friends and, depending on his brains and face, more than just friends. He has a good body, is tall, does not smoke, seems intelligent and has not run away yet. This is very promising.

Well, we have only been exchanging e-mails for a week and have never met (I don’t even know what he looks like) so no need to hold one’s breath yet, really. Perhaps I should brush the subject of ICQ, which would make things a bit more lively and intense if he was willing to submit himself to it.
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