I have to hand it to him—he didn't hesitate at all when I asked him. I guess he is really ready to move this thing along. The ticket must be costing him a fortune—he could seriously go to Fiji right now for the same $$. But no, he's chosen to drag his ass to the shivering, appliqued sweat-suit wearing, home perm lovin' Midwest with moi instead. So it must be love. My parents are in an absolute tizzy over it, which makes me glad I'll be there a few days before Bloke to I can tell them face to face to settle the fuck down. Not that I can blame them really. The last time I brought a guy home was in college and he was your basic idealistic Lloyd Dobler from Say Anything, which had the intended effect of driving my father insane. Weirdly, I think Bloke will be great with them. So why am I so nervous?