Welcome to America!

A big red, white and blue welcome to Alison, my online bud Garazon's betrothed.

Over the last few days, I've been reading his posts in his blog as he counted down the hours unti Alison came over here for good. I've felt like a third-wheel...which I'm used to being...especially when Alison would reply to his public declarations of love for her. I'd post, but would feel like I was intruding!

Bless their hearts, they met several years ago, both of them having lost their spouses and developed their love affair even before they had even met. I know, from personal experience, that you CAN fall in love before even laying eyes on the other person...and actually, I think that might even be better than the proverbial "love at first sight" because you can get to know them without the added pressure of a possible physical affair. (sexual tension, guess it would be)

I had a very good friend I met online, and we developed something similar (I'd like to think) a long time before we ever met in person. My friend (let's call her....oh..."elle") elle and I knew that we had something special because of the thousands of emails and hours we spent chatting on IM.

We never really mentioned "that" until we had decided to meet. At first, I was going to fly to England and we were making plans. I don't know what made me say it (and I don't know why I say a LOT of things) but thinking about the physical part made me nervous and as I do many times, I made a joke out of it.

"Y'know...." I told her late one night while on messenger "It's been a LONG time for me."

"Me too." came the reply.

"It's been a REALLY LONG time." I typed, hoping she'd understand what I meant.

"Me too." came the quick answer.

Good, we were on the same page. I was blushing and there was no one there to see me. I was squirming in my chair, hoping I hadn't been too rude, too presumptious, but even my anxiety didn't stop me from cracking wise.

"It's been so long, honey....well, all I gotta say is you'd better have a mattress strapped to your back when you meet me at the airport."

As soon as I hit "Send" on that last bit, I regretted it. I bet I had crossed the line. I sat there, turning even a more deeper shade of crimson.

It wasn't but a few seconds until her reply came on the screen:

"You'd better be the first man off the plane."

Welcome to America, Alison! Home of hot dogs, apple pie and very bad jokes.