Well, guess who's got what may indeed be a date tomorrow: This lesbian ( I'm not appropriately sexed to be a lesbian, it's a sarah silverman quote). Needless to say there is not a little angst thereabouts. I need to think of things to say, although luckily it's in the context of a cinema, so there won't be that much talking involved. It's sort of a softlanding. That relaxes. But bloody hell, progress has indeed been made and lamentably not blogged. One's blogging activities it would seem is inversely proportional to one's happiness, but then that was known. I've been emailing this girl for a few weeks now, fairly intensely. She is funny, bright, attractive. I need to drill into myself, the truth, if it be true, or at least the pragmatic truth, which it procul dubio be, that one is what one makes oneself. Specifically, I need to remember the importance of a good, banterful first meeting. If I can concentrate on being personable and specificially funny, the rest may write itself. But tomorrow should be fairly vile. NO. Tomorrow will be fine. There will be a few nerves, as is inevitable, but i'll study, wash me clothes etc. etc. It will become 8, I will turn outwards, and all will be glorious. Anyway, join me tomorrow for the inevitable postmortum and hopefully some reflections on the nature of life and possibility, which latter the world is showing me, as I asked her to.