Ten years ago when I started typing all of this, I "met" a friend of a friend. She was single, living far away, and a knitter. She grew up in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. She's got a sister Naomi. And by all accounts, she had a great sense of humor. From time to time, racy things were written in public.
[some years pass]
She fell in love with a fellow who owns an Elvis jumpsuit. She married, became a step mom and survived a huge storm. There were lots of posts about knitting, Charlie the dog, and even some about a deck. The name of her blog changed, though I can't remember the old name. She's "Kinda Asiany".
[some more years whip by at a pace best described as "insistent"]
Then out of the blue tinged pages of a little website called face book came a private message that there was a business conference in the Bay Area where I am and our mutual friend is, and that we were to meet.
In person. A person whose voice I'd never even heard.
[some weeks with a blush of anticipation noodle by]
And I'm seated at a booth in a bar with our mutual friend and her husband, and appetizers were ordered and I had a porter in front of me.
Then I saw her face and heard her voice for the first time, and there was excitement and a hug and a picture snapped with a phone. Dinner was served. It was casual and relaxed and full of discovery and stories. I talked too much (don't look shocked) and after a fashion, the evening had ended and we hugged goodbye, hopefully to meet again in less than ten years.
Thanks for stopping by our place here in the metropolis, Grace. You do your name proud.
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