8/21/97 - Rapt in Limerance and More.

     My baby's been busy with school.  I miss her.
     I really miss her.  This is how it'll be for
     awhile, since we both have to work on our
     studies.  I need to get used to not being
     able to spend half a day with Anna again --
     the summer was a very pleasant experience,
     especially when we were in London, her hair
     getting in our faces, her soft fingers
     tickling my stomach.

     By whatever forces keep me from her, I expect
     to be heavily rewarded for this.

     And love, "I'm going to take my time. / I
     have all the time in the world / to make
     you mine. / It is written in the stars
     above. / The gods decree you'll be right
     here by my side / right next to me. / You
     can run but you cannot hide."  I'd like
     to listen to Ultra with you, but you know
     that already.

     I've been planning a project for ages now.
     It's one of the projects that you never
     get started on because you don't think you
     know enough about it to do it well.  In
     this case, I'm worried about how well I can
     pass off writing fiction about a young
     girl, Miss Intoinette, making her debut into
     society, a metaphor for the growing awareness
     of the 'Net.

     I have plenty of ideas, and I think it's
     important to do this, primarily because it
     helps to put things in perspective when our
     beloved 'Net is a young female stranger, her
     courtiers the corporate behemoths trying to
     win her with lavish gifts and flattery.

     I even have a good idea for the ending.
     Possibly a dolorous ending, but since I'm
     love, possibly an optimistic ending as well.
     Can't tell.  But I'd know how to do it, either
     way.

     The problem is with the details.  I will admit
     I'm no scholar when it comes to the Victorian
     Age, 19th century stuff.  No Nathaniel
     Hawthorne-ish "The Custom House" writing in
     store for me.  I believe I've read something
     similar to this dilemma on another site. ;)
     Anyway, I haven't done my research.  Should
     I wing it?  Would I pull off a wonderful job
     anyway?

     It's hard to compete with Neal Stevenson's
     Illustrated Primer.  It's hard to reveal the
     deepest secrets of a girl for a time period I
     never experienced or researched thoroughly.
     It's hard to write like a young woman coming
     of age, since I'm a man.  Back when I had
     a diary, back in the laughable days of my
     existence, my diary consisted of maybe three
     entries, summarizing my day as strictly as
     someone would detail the minutes of a
     high-profile meeting.  Okay, either that or
     obsessing on some girl in class.  What do
     men possibly know about women?  Such puzzles
     women are, yet not as bad for me as they are
     for other men.  Maybe I just feel more
     confident because I'm so like my girlfriend
     that I know how and why she feels about a lot
     of things before I even ask.  I don't know.

     I should follow a good rule and just try to
     do it.  Evolve in my style as Miss
     Intoinette evolves in hers.

     But I need to get it right.

     "Sir, I would rather be right than be
      President."

                             -Henry Clay

     Not because of other peoples' giving
     opinions on it, since I don't rely on an
     audience to drive my content.  You have to
     have an audience to do it.  No, if I'm
     going to do it for myself, I need to do it
     right.  Perfect.  Flawless.

     No pressure.  The diary will begin soon,
     I think.  Unless I get sidetracked again.
     Still busy as Hell.

     Will this whole .plan thing dry up all my
     ideas for the Soapbox and main menu greeting?
     Hope not.  Need to continue packing...

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