October 13, 2000
Center Stage


David was shaking his head when he came to bed last night.

"I'm a character, aren't I?" he said. the cool thing about being a *character* on FootNotes? *i* get to put words in your mouth! because it's MY WEBSITE!! hahahahahahaha!!

I looked at him ... standing there in his Green Lantern T-shirt and his droopy Fruit of the Looms, with his hair sticking up all over his head ... holding a bowl of Triple Chocolate Thunder in one hand and the latest issue of Guitar World in the other hand ... and I thought A character?

You are indeed.

"No," he said: reading me like neon. "I mean I'm a CHARACTER on your WEBSITE." And he smiled in goony, amazed self-satisfaction, as he slid into bed next to me.

Well ... duhh.

This should hardly be coming as a surprise to him now. He's been a major character on the website, ever since I got off that airplane two years ago. He even made the occasional *FootNotes* cameo appearance a year or so before THAT ... back in the days when Ю僱êrvØ¡ and SecraTerri were still just a couple of platonic online pals, telling each other this "wasn't a romance."

(And then when it was beginning to look like this WAS going to be a romance, after all, and I started up packing all my earthly belongings -- and my website -- for the move to California, I asked him whether he was going to mind having the world read about his droopy Fruit of the Looms everyday. He said no. "In fact, I think we should buy a scanner," he said. "That way the world can SEE my droopy Fruit of the Looms!")

So this is hardly news.

"What happened?" I mumbled sleepily. Why the sudden dawning awareness of his Internet fame? Did we get more fan-mail?  We usually allow Outlook Express to run in the background all evening, while I'm uploading new stuff to *FootNotes* after work, and then later when David takes over the computer until bedtime. I love my Internet mail. I vastly prefer it over AOL mail. I check my Internet e-mail obsessively throughout the evening. I consider it an accurate barometer of success or failure for that evening's journal entry. (If I haven't heard from Cranky Denver Lady by 9 p.m. PDT, I know I've posted a clinker.)

When I'm not in front of the computer, David gets first crack at the new mail, as it lands.

"Another e-mail question about Jaymi," he said -- (everybody wants an update on her condition)  -- "and some woman in Australia, wanting to know if I'm as good-looking in person as I am on the website."

And he preened, like a little girl modeling Mommy's new Easter bonnet.

He's a character, all right. In EVERY sense of the word.

throw a rock