East Coast Road Trip, Tuesday Night
It was hard to focus at work on Tuesday. In a lot of ways, this trip had become my Christmas... the anticipation, the sense of getting something I'd never gotten before. Originally, I had expected to be playing Ars Magica with folks, which would fill up my evening just right, at which point, I could head to the airport to meet Zora. Alas, other folks' schedules interfered, and I ended up instead working from home so that I'd have time for last-minute cleaning and preparation. Over the preceding days, I'd managed the best cleaning my house had gotten in some time... stairs were swept (since, despite the carpet, they're trickey to vacuum... I should invest in a mini-vac.), bookcases were dusted, Athanasia's old room was cleaned out.
The Green Line was fine, but the Blue Line, of all things, had a disabled car. I hadn't yet left Government Center when they made us all get out of the train we were in and wait for another. In hindsight, I'd've done better giving up then and heading back to the Silver Line. But, I decided to risk the fix being fast. It was not. I had given myself padding, and I ate through all of it as I waited for a train, then that train sat in Aquarium Station for a half-hour waiting for traffic ahead to finally get moving. Between the crowds of people stuffed into the train and the fact that nobody wanted to be there, the total unpleasantness value was high, and I kicked myself repeatedly for making the wrong choice back at Government Center.
I finally got to the Airport Station and dashed for the shuttles. Zora was flying into the A Terminal, which at least meant that I wouldn't have to sit through another excrutiating series of stops.
Then I was off, and into the terminal, and there she was. The juxtaposition of feelings was one that I have only experienced a few times in my life: the surreality of seeing something which I had never expected to occur, blended with the hyperreality of being in the moment and having everything else fall away. She pointed at me as I walked up with a stern expression. I had told her ahead of time that I was *not* shaking hands when we met, because something so formal with someone that I had shared so much with over so long, even at a distance, sounded awful. So I expected a smile and a nod, but she opened her arms for a hug, and I let muscle memory take over, while trying to stay aware of how much she was not a hugger.
I had originally planned to just hop on the T to get back home, but we were both still sick, the Blue Line had just had some major backup traffic, and Zora had told me she wanted to bring a larger piece of luggage that'd be more annoying to lug around, so I opted to grab a taxi from the airport, instead. (As it turned out, she'd brought her smaller luggage, after all). It was certainly the faster and more comfortable choice. I brought Zora my favorite brand of Roasted Almonds, since she liked almonds, and I knew she wouldn't've had much to eat over the day, since she'd spent nine hours with a three-leg trip from Victoria to Boston. (Still, being able to travel from Victoria to Boston in 9 hours is an aspect of modern technology that I will never cease to marvel at.)
I gave her the tour of the house. She made pleased noises when she saw and smelled the white lilies I had put in her room for her; the worst case scenario was that they'd be too much, so I was glad that they went over well. Then we returned to the living room, and I made her watch Cabin in the Woods, which I thought she'd enjoy. (Her other option had been a beer, but she seemed pretty wiped out from the travel.)
With the exception of getting to the terminal far later than expected, and therefore leaving Zora with temporarily anxiety that I'd bailed on her, Tuesday night felt like it went really well. Zora didn't act awkward, which I was afraid she might, under the circumstances. I started to be able to get a grip on facial expressions and mannerisms that I didn't see when talking to her online. Since we had 10am hair appointments, I knew I probably wasn't going to get enough sleep, but the hour that we went to bed was more reasonable than it could've been, assisted by the fact that Zora stays awake the night before travel to help shift into the new time zone, and there was no way she'd gotten enough sleep on the plane to make up for it.
The sense of surreality didn't go away. Through that wall was someone I adored that I'd been trying to spend time with for most of my adult life? Madness, I tell you! Impossible!