My current editor asked to friend "me" on Facebook this morning. Not a problem. After all, it's my professional presence and she's part of my professional life. The only problem was we couldn't find each other. This woman, with whom I email multiple times a day, almost every day, and I had no clue what the other looked like. After we managed to link up, there was an almost giddy exchange about having faces to go with names and voices and words. It was very exciting for both of us.
And we still haven't met.
Which makes me think about Lori. And Denny. And Ian. And Dev. And Violetta. These people aren't just words on a page or a voice on the phone. These people are my friends. I care about them. I lean on them. I count on them. The exact same way I do with Nemeria, Dr. B., Starbuck, the Divine M and all my IRL friends. I know they do the same with me.
But here's the truth ~ I could walk by them on a street and not know it, because we have never been in the same room.
Now, if we were looking for each other, we'd find each other. I remember when I met GSH. Because DADT was still in effect, he had never, ever, not once, posted a picture of himself on his blog. So when it came time for us to meet for dinner ~ we were both, miraculously, in Anchorage at the same time ~ I said to him "You have to look for me." As I walked down the street, a man stepped toward me with his arms raised high. I was me; he was him; we knew it.
But if he hadn't thought to check if I was in Anchorage? If he had assumed I was still in Galena. If we were just walking down the street, not having told each other we were going to be there, because really, she's never going to be in Kansas City when I am, so why mention it? I would walk right by all of them. One or both of us might do a double take, but I bet we'd just keep on moving.
But they are my friends. They are as real as real life. Somewhere along the line, meeting stopped being a requisite for knowing. And I'm okay with that.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
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