Just a quick little note. My friend is about half an hour away from arriving in San Francisco. He moved away about a year and a half ago and, though I have seen him half a dozen times or so since then, I’m super, super excited. And I’m mentioning it because I find it pretty interesting. I’m a fairly calm guy. I like a good laugh, and I try to generally be outgoing and charming as the days require but I make it a point of expressing that, on average, I’m not excited. Let me put it this way. “Thomas, are you excited about moving?”
“Excited, no. I’m looking forward to it. I think I”ll like being there, but excited, no.”
See, excited for me is Disneyland. Better yet, it’s being 6 and standing in the parking lot of Disneyland at about 8:30 in the morning. You’ve never seen parents move any slower than you will through the eyes of this 6-year-old, because his heart is beating as a hummingbirds, his eyes darting just as quickly, thinking, wishing, and hoping at a million miles an hour. That, to me is excited. I make it a point to not use the word casually unless something really gets me going.
My friend is coming into town. We’re going out tonight. I put an outfit on, changed my tie, took the good shirt off, and changed again entirely. I am a man, remember. Yeah, changed my goddam outfit. Like it’s prom and I’m a sophmore. So yeah, am I excited? You bet your ass I am.
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You actually changed twice for the record.. I think that may remove this from the prom category and put it somewhere closer to a “Coming Out” party. with love. Me