I've recently been told that, as a blogger, I'm actually expected to write stuff.

So okay fine. I'll write something. Plus, I'm waiting for some clothes to dry.

I wasn't going to write about this at all, but my hand has now been forced, and I'll look like a wimp if I don't write about it. So, like I said, I'll write something.

The other night I was out on my swing. I love my swing on the warm Summer nights. I can sit out there with a nice beer and I can play fetch with the neighbor's dog and I can contemplate the universe.

I can also have nice little email conversations and occasional phone conversations, though the latter are fairly rare these days.

So the other night I was having a nice little email conversation with LaptopGirl. I think I must have bored her because she disappeared on me. Then, the next day, she said she'd fallen asleep. I've heard of this sleep thing. I even seem to have some vague memories of doing it myself, but I can't be sure. Those may be false memories implanted by aliens, or the media, or maybe the alien media.

Anyway, after I'd bored LaptopGirl into Snoozytown (pop: everyone but me) my phone rang. A number that I don't have in my phone's memory. Instead, a number that's burned into my brain.

MixedSignalGirl.

Yay?

We had the world's shortest phone conversation. And that was probably a good thing because I was having a hard time holding onto the phone anyway. Because our last conversation hadn't gone very well. This one was better, and shorter.

Me: Hello?

MSG: Are you at home?

Me: I'm out on my swing.

MSG: Save me a seat.

Me: Don't come here.

MSG: I'm on my way. (click)

Eeek!

So I figured that I had some choices.

First, I could spontaneously burst into flames. I tried that for a few seconds, but I must have been doing it wrong because all that happened was that I peed my pants a little.

Second, I could run into my house and turn off all the lights and hide. I didn't really consider this, once I remembered that MixedSignalGirl probably still has a key to my house and she knows the alarm code.

Third, I could be a man and just sit and wait for her. That's what I decided to do. I mean, what was the worst thing that could happen?

The next day I emailed RockGirl about the visit. Here's an edited version of that email.

Well, she came over. Just like she still did it all the time. Just like she still had every right to come over whenever she felt like it.

I didn't know what to expect. I thought maybe she was going to throw herself at me and say she was moving back here. I thought that maybe she was going to show up with her boyfriend and force me to meet him. (deleted)

It wasn't nearly as dramatic as any of that. It was a lot like the olden days. She pulled in the driveway and parked in front of the detached garage. She waved at me on my swing. She got out of her car and plopped down next to me and said , "Hi!"

Just like it hadn't been a million years, since she'd sat on that swing with me.

We had a couple beers. She stayed until a little before 3:00. Nothing happened. We just sat and talked about the olden days and what had gone wrong and what had been happening with her and with me. (deleted) She told me about how wonderful her boyfriend is, and I managed to be happy for her about that. Even though I don't believe it, not really. We talked about my nephew Cory and how Dina is still struggling to deal with that loss.

All she really wanted to do was see me and make sure I didn't hate her for moving away and for finding someone new. And her boyfriend is arriving in town today, so last night was the only opportunity she had to see me. I told her that of course I didn't hate her. But I also didn't tell her that I love her. (deleted)

I gave her a hug when she left. I think she was feeling better. I'm not sure that I was, but at least I wasn't feeling any worse.

So anyway, that was interesting.

And now I've written something.