Yes, I know I promised to tell you about my "meeting" in Monday's entry, but I didn't have time to put together an entry on Monday and Tuesday I was out of the office with a nasty little headache (though I was seriously jonesin' for internet access). Sorry if I kept y'all waiting!

Anyway, about Friday:
For sake of brevity, Mike Farrell will be referred to as "Mike". This is not to imply that I think we're now best buds, I just don't feel like typing his whole name each and every time. I'm lazy that way.

Well, I don't think I made a fool of myself, but I wasn't as outgoing and eloquent as I would have liked to be. I got to the office building a bit early, so I did a bunch of deep breathing exercises, to try to calm my nerves. Then up to the fourth floor. There was a restroom right by his office, and I still had a couple of minutes, so I ducked in there, checked my make-up and hair (which I had touched up in my car after I parked), then told myself that I had to stop stalling and get in there.

So I opened the office door and encountered his assistant M. first (nice, pretty, very friendly face, and definitely more petite than I). But I could see Mike at his desk, on the phone, just past M., and he glanced up as I entered and gave me a look that basically said, I'll be with you in a moment. M. had a look on her face that said, Hmmm, who is this stranger walking in?

Some of the following is paraphrasing, I don't remember exact words or order of conversation.

M.: look of recognition-"what other unfamiliar person knows my name-must be that chick I talked to on Tuesday" - I think that, with my low voice, most people expect me to look different, I don't know why.

Me: Hi, I'm Carol Cyr, I'm here to drop off the tapes. (motion with handled Body Shop bag)

M.: Yes, Mike just got in. He'll be with you in just a second.

I stand around, for no more than a second, but it feels like forever.

Me: Thank you. (I'm just bursting with conversational goodness, aren't I?)

I go to do that, and just as I sit, Mike wraps up his phone call (sounds like he just left a message, though I wasn't trying to listen in). So I stand right back up. (Gee, I hope I don't look like a jack-in-the-box.) We shake hands. (Yes, I touched Mike Farrell! *squeal!*)

Mike: (warm, friendly smile, though a tiny bit reserved) Hi, you're a friend of Linda's? (voice a little lower than I anticipated, but nice)

Me: I don't really remember what I said, but I think I said yes. I know it was an appropriate response, but, for the life of me, I can't remember what I said!

Mike: And you've met M.

I had taken out a folder before I entered the office, so I just hand him the bag. He thanks me and looks inside.

Mike: Thank you for copying these, that was very sweet of you.

Me: You're welcome, my mom did the actual copying.

Mike: Thank her for me, I really appreciate it.

Mike: So these are copied from...?

Me: An original video that I bought from E-Bay...

Mike: Oh, so they're second generation?

Me: Yes. (Ain't I the sparkling conversationalist?)

He looks happy that they're not a copy of a copy of a copy�

He takes the tapes out of the bag (hmmm, my business card is sandwiched between them, I hope he doesn't miss it, then again, maybe he won't like that I did that, maybe it should fall on the floor or on the desk and get totally lost, oh what did I do?!) and places the tapes on his desk.

Mike: The woman who asked for this is in New York� (I think he said that she'd be happy to receive it, but again, my brain took a quick vacation. I answered appropriately. I hope.)

Mike: (taps tapes) This is one of my favorites.

Me: Mine, too, I really enjoyed watching it. (I said something else, too. Again, I don't know what. It scares me a bit to know that I've forgotten so much. But Mike seems glad that I liked "Memorial Day" so much.)

Mike: Thank you.

Me: You're welcome. Thank you. (Oh, why did I say that, has he really done anything for me to thank him for besides granting me the favor of his presence?)

I start wondering, do I try to engage in conversation? Do I get the hell out of there and let him get back to work? I don't want to take up a lot of his time. All this time I'm noticing that he's wearing jeans and a navy polo shirt and his silver hair and look him in the eyes when I talk to him but not too much, don't want him to feel uncomfortable and I have a tendency to get lost when looking into beautiful blue eyes like his, so I don't want to do that...

Me: I was on vacation when I received Linda's e-mail. I hadn't looked at my e-mail for over a week.

Mike: Oh, I couldn't do that. (I think that maybe he's become addicted to the computer, like I have.) It piles up too much.

Me: (little laugh, slight eye-roll) I know what you mean. (He laughs. Yes! I made him laugh! WooHoo! [Hey, I take little victories where I can get 'em.])

He thanks me again, and I look at him.

Me: I was wondering (a favorite opening line of mine), could I get an autograph for my mom? She did do the actual taping and I know it would mean a lot to her.

Mike: (with a knowing smile) Certainly.

Me: (opening my folder) I don't have a proper photo, but I do have this. (hand him the print-out of a publicity shot from the early days of M*A*S*H, which is on plain paper)

Mike: I have a photo I can sign. Would you prefer I sign a photo, this (the print-out), or both?

Me:(thinking it over for half a second, boy, both would be nice�) I think a photo would be good, my mom would really like that.

He pulls out a copy of a publicity photo from Providence, and sits down at his desk as he grabs a blue Sharpie.

Mike: Her name is�

Me: Dee. D-E-E. (He starts to sign. I think he was expecting me to give my name, maybe, yeah, sure it's for my mom.)

Mike: So you live near-by?

Me: Yes, in (San Fernando Valley suburb).

Mike: (he stops, looks at me kind of surprised and shocked) Wow, that is near-by. (I swear, he looked the tiniest bit worried, as if he was thinking, I thought Linda meant over the hill or on the other side of the Valley when she said Carol lived nearby, I didn't think it was practically in my backyard-he finishes signing.)

Me: And I work in Burbank, so this whole area� (What am I saying, why am I telling him this, just shut up already!)

He hands me the photo, which I put in my folder.

Me: Thank you.

Mike: You're welcome.

He then hands me the print-out ("You'll probably want this back." "Yes, thank you."), which I also place in the folder.

Again, my brain is a bit fuzzy here. I say something, who knows what, and I think I go to leave.

Me: (to Mike and M.) Have a nice day.

Mike: It was nice meeting you.

Me: (nothing - at least not a "Nice meeting you too." I think I said good-bye. I was halfway out the door at this point and for some reason, didn't register what he said until I closed the door behind me. I totally suck.)

I take a deep breath, then look at my watch. Oh wow, a whole five minutes elapsed. It felt like a blink of an eye, and also like the slowest increment of time, ever.

Then I go back to work, still completely useless and flustered and not walking on the earth at all. I told a couple of people at work why I was acting so strange, and show them Mike's autographed picture (which says, "Hi Dee, Thanks. Peace! Mike Farrell"). Everyone is very happy for me, but I think of the undertone of wariness that was in Mike's friendly demeanor, which I completely understand. (Hey, I could have misrepresented myself to Linda and maybe I'm some pro-death-penalty nut, which would naturally cause him to be wary, especially with all the flack he's been getting lately with the whole Mumia situation.)

So, that was my meeting with Mike Farrell. I've got to stop over-analyzing everything that was said! I wonder what he would think if he knew that the quiet woman with the goofy smile that he met on Friday was once described by her best friend as "flamboyant". He wouldn't believe it!

Well, the new TV season is fully underway, and I'm back paging on both 3rd Rock from the Sun and That 70's Show!, which is what I really wanted. I love working on both shows (especially That 70's Show, but that's 'cause our head page is so darned cute) and I get along with both of the head pages really well, as well as the rest of the crews. It's gonna be a great season!

Yes, I did say, in my previous paragraph, that one of my co-workers is darned cute. R. is definitely an attractive fellow. I've thought so for almost a year now. Plus he's very nice, easy-going, intelligent, has a great smile and likes hugs. What's not to like?

Then there's the whole D. flirtation, and another fellow that I work with (you'll have to guess which job) is kinda neat, too. Not to mention finding more than a few actors quite pleasant to look at (including the gentleman I met on Friday).

What can I say, I'm very appreciative of attractive men. I'm actually OK when I'm in a relationship (I'm sooo monogamous, it's almost scary). It's just these in-between times that drive me crazy, not knowing which way to go, and not the type to enjoy a simple, uncommitted roll in the hay more than a couple of times (I've already used up my quota during this particular 2 1/2 year in-between time).

*sigh* I think I just need something to control these raging hormones o' mine. Do they have pills for these things?