So I went to Tacoma for a week, to visit my primary partner. It was a very nice visit and everyone had fun!

I flew out Monday the 10th, marred by some lateness from the previous plane arriving, but I had a very lovely chat with my seatmate and gave her some info on self-taught programming for her teenage son who is very good with computers and might be interested in programming if he doesn't go the heart surgeon route. (He is whip-smart, autistic, and interested in planes. And computers. And being a heart surgeon.) Upon seeing my partner, I kissed them hello straight off and then we loaded everything into the car and headed for the next stop (taking time to update the local branch of the polycule on what was up).

My partner met my sister, yay!

There were cheesecake-related shenanigans.

I got to meet my partner's co-workers, and see them at work in one of the more rewarding aspects of their job -- plus some of the stuff that goes into making that happen.

I got to meet some long-time internet friends in person (tygerr & wife), see Ex Mrs. Shawn #1, see vlion and wife and kid. Stories were told. I got to meet rynia and their wife and another friend, plus my metamour, and the people whose couch my partner will be occupying for the next little bit. And I got to meet the people whose spare room my partner and their cat are currently in. Plus see a few bandmates. And a few of my sister's bandmates. And my metamour's mother and brothers. SO MANY PEOPLE.

Very good times were had by all. We listen to some of the same podcasts, and our philosophies of laundry are compatible. The food choices worked out. norabombay and I bat around some thoughts on alpha/beta/omega dynamics as they are seen in fanfic, and basically you'd need some hardcore preparation for an omega heat. You'd want frozen burritos or something that are super quick to fix, a room with a nice comfortable bed, and a fuckton of lube and such. Water bottles for bed. You know.

^_^

Despite some concerns, we did not get told that we were disturbing other guests. We may have been doing it wrong.

^_^

I left on Monday. I did most of my weeping and clinging on Sunday night. I'm adjusting to life back home, but with a part of my head that I didn't realize had been quite so on-edge now purring quietly to itself.

We'd sort of wanted an oasis of calm with just the two of us. Instead, we got the edge of a crisis, as my partner's hosts had been told that it was renovation time and they needed to find a new place. And my partner had various things at work on four of the weekdays. Plus I wanted to meet people while I was there, and show off my partner. So it wasn't just the two of us alone with no worries, it was commuting and work and locating moving boxes and all sorts of little things.

Our emotions and our physical interactions had been growing wildly out of step. It's one thing to spend comfortable time in each other's virtual presence, swearing at traffic or grumbling about an essay or something. It's another to actually touch each other. I had been a little worried: would I push them away in the middle of the night? Would I be able to fall asleep with their skin touching me? As it turned out, if I tiptoed out of bed in the middle of the night to pee, they'd wrap back around me when I came in, and when they got out of bed with their alarm on a workday, I'd grumble something sleepy at the loss of their touch.

When I was an impressionable teenager, I read some MSR portal fantasy with soulbonding, where some form of magic had bound Mulder and Scully tightly to each other; in the early bits of the fic, the space between them decreased, so they needed to be in physical contact at all times. (This was down to some malfunction, and the bond was fixed later on.) But in the beginning, as the bond strengthened, the physical distance decreased.

But that's ... kind of not where things go.

Given the opportunity, my partner and I will snuggle up into each other. We're both a little short on skin-to-skin contact, so I will likely as not have my hand grasping their shirt collar, fingers tucked against their neck. But it doesn't hurt to let go. It's not a problem of scarcity. If they let go, they will come back and hold me again. If I let go, I will come back and curl around them. There's a security. They are a fixed point. My anchor. My love.

Parted from me and never parted; never and always touching and touched.

We're making good time. 53 miles to go. Two rest stops. Dark brown afghan stripe finished with a little yarn to spare.

We're there yet. 3.5 hours, a new record for her. I shall be in The Cupboard Under The Stairs. I picked this from 3 options.

Driving to Tahoe. Crocheting. KQED is fading out. I am amazingly content. Could I really be a California girl?

Short answer: yes.

Longer answer: Guide Dog Aunt found me in the baggage claim, waited with me, showed off The Poodle to random passerby (actually, random passerby came up and started squeeing over The Poodle without talking to my aunt first, much the way some people come up, coo at babies and try to pat them, and only then encounter the Death Glare of the Parent. Except my aunt was much more amenable to poodle-based glee than that.), picked up my bag, wandered through a maze of twisty confusion to the parking lot, drove through more twisty confusion, then hilly confusion, and -- here we are!

The cousins are home. The cousins are gaming. This surprises no one. I'm not sure where Guide Dog Uncle is.

My cough hurts.

I got to Sky Harbor way early. I figured I would; I figured I'd rather be early than late. I brought Thalia with me this time (hooray Thalia!) and I'm taking advantage of the Sky Harbor wireless LAN. I'd been planning to read my new Duane, since I'm not sure if I'll be able to do much of that on the plane, what with takeoff and descent and all.

Best wishes to my New York friends. The transit strike looks to be sucking for everyone. Here's hoping it resolves soon!

I am to be boarding soon. I am hard-pressed to not stick my tongue out at the television when Bush is on there saying some very stupid things. He is such a disagreeable man.

The gate area is filling up. I have been sitting here for an hour and a quarter without feeling the passage of time particularly strongly.

There was a geekboy on the bus. I spotted him the moment he got on. He might have been checking me out. I was trying to show signs of "Hi, I'm a geek chick!" to keep myself in practice. Mostly this involved the Baen logo on the spine of A Civil Campaign; that effort got abandoned when reading made me dizzy with a few lurching turns.

I forgot to eat breakfast before I left. I will have ten-day-old pizza to dispose of when I return. Ooops. At least it's in the refrigerator. (Dinner Sunday night is lunch Monday and breakfast Tuesday, it seems...)

I become more and more intimidated the closer we get to flight time: my ears are not going to like the pressure changes.

I'd better close down the client and the browser, as I board soon, and board in the first group. (Yay upgrades at check-in!)

Laundry is done. Dishes are not. Packing is not.

Going to catch a nap now. Alarm's set for 5:30, in case I don't wake up in the middle of the night perfectly perky as per the usual.

Travel get-together plans? The only reasonably firm one is, oh crap, I need to e-mail 'Shua my number. For the 22nd. And the 29th. I think. I'm not sure. Aunt-Fayoumis and her Trailer of Doom are cruising the state on Fayoumis-Clan Standard Time, which means "whenever the fuck she feels like it". Aunt-Fayoumis is a lot like me. Guide Dog Aunt is also a lot like me. Tay-Tay is a lot like all of us. We are family, we are nuts, and we are clannish.

...annnnd he's paid. So. Easy e-mail solutions for great justice!

I sleep while I can breathe.

I'm planning to be in San Francisco, in zip code 94044, over the winter break. (I'm staying with Guide Dog Aunt and her family, so raranax is exempt from voting, unless he wants to poke the poll with a stick.) Last confirmed day of work is the 18th. I'm not sure exactly when I'm leaving yet, due to not having bought tickets yet, but I should be getting there sometime either on the 19th or after that. pyrogenic has claim to a slice of time sometime before the 23rd. The 24th through 26th will probably be busy, as there's a road trip and family stuff will probably be happening. I'm not sure, at this point, if I'm going to be there for the New Year or not, because of work and travel and suchlike things.

As things start to fall into place, I'll be working up one of my signature Scheduling Goddess calendars.
(Darkside hasn't responded yet to my ping about claiming holiday time with me. No clue if/when he will.)

[Poll #630126]

Airplane seats and I have reached a treaty of mutual loathing. Both of us are vexed. Airline safety videos can be unintentionally funny. It would be utterly hilarious to, say on an appropriate day such as April 01, replace an airline safety video with something with the same safety information content but more ... creatively ... presented. Also, boozin' is evidently for pilots on the airline I just flew!

I packed fewer sets of clothes than I had days away, and I still overpacked, but as some of them were used as packing, it was all for the good.

I come by my temper honestly, both from Grandma's side of the paternal line and GrandfatherSir's side of the paternal line. Grandma is my only surviving grandparent.

One of the aunts dug up a pamphlet on V.D. from 1971. Several copies, in fact. Once the scanner is operational, a copy will be shared. I was of the opinion that it would be a good thing to print up and distribute on college campuses as if serious -- novelty vintage sex-ed!

Even when I am not trying to, I accumulate books. I was vexed that Dad took the local copy of East of the Sun, West of the Moon. I wound up reading that cover to cover, then reading the story about the Mother of the Bride from It Was on Fire When I Lay Down on It to Aunt-Fayoumis.

Geezerite. Everything's more funny with volcanic eruptions.