Hot journaler-on-journaler action (part deux)
On Sunday, Von came to visit. As she requested, we had snow. Not much by our standards, but it was snow. Naturally, we had clouds too. Thinnish clouds, where you could almost convince yourself that the roundish brighter region in the sky was the sun. You’d have to be an optimist though.
Anyway, Vonnie is just as delightful IRL as she in her journal, in email and on the phone. She pronounced Mission Control as being “Really nice” and made thoughtful critque on the paintings. There was ice on the fire-escape, so we didn’t actually step out there. But she found it interesting nonetheless.
Next, we dove into a fresh pot of coffee while we chatted on the couch waiting for California Rollin’ to open, then walked over for my Sushi 101 lesson. Apparently, California Rollin’ lives up to its reputation, if the orgasmic noises coming from my left as we ate were any indication. In between moans she said, “If we had this in Charlotte, I would have serious issues.”
By the pronounciation, I knew she meant Charlotte, NC. Because there is a California Rollin’ at the Ferry Terminal in the Port of Rochester neighborhood spelled Charlotte, but said, “sha-LOT”. 
Afterwards, we went on a very brief stroll through the neighborhood. There’s the full-gospel, all-singing, all-dancing, church-in-an-old-public-school next door, the Memorial Art Gallery across the street, and other landmarks familiar to long-time readers—my bus stop, the yellow brick mid-rise building down the street where I lived in the early years, the street where I moved after that, (into the house owned by the landlord-from-hell conveniently forgetting that I was also the tenant-from-hell during that time) and, of course, The Corner Store.
It was cold though and, she not being acclimated to our weather, we came right back here. I didn’t let on (then) that I’d really wished I was wearing my longjohns and had put up my hood. Von was a trooper about it and I was sort of showing off, so I couldn’t admit to being cold too.
It seemed we had only just settled back in on the couch when Von’s BF returned to take her to the next destination. Our visit was much too short. But I have the feeling the same could be said if it was a week instead of an afternoon.
I was afraid I’d be all nervous and tongue-tied. I only a couple of times did I lapse into my “look interested but don’t talk and eventually the other person will say something” mode I’ve learned from years with psychologists. (Turning the tables, I can make psychologists break the silence.)
I don’t think I even said anything stupid. That in itself is notable. In fact, what’s up with that?
