I'll let Deb tell you about her experience in her own diary if she wants to, but I have to relate this one thing. She was telling me on the phone that they were x-raying both tits, even though it was just the right one that they were concerned about. Well, it concerned Deb that they were x-raying the left one, the one with the tattoo of the four dolphins, a representation of our whole family. She said she was thinking, "You can't have that one. You can do whatever you want to with the right one, but you can't have that one." Wondering how I would console Deb if she ever had to have her left breast removed, I had the most perverse temporary understanding of why Roy Rogers had Trigger stuffed.

I've been talking to the nicest man on the phone. His name is Vincent, and he lives up in New York. He has a great accent. This is the third time we've talked. As many of you have gathered, the magazines I edit have a lot to do with photography and digital imaging.

When Vincent first called me, he asked about an article he thought we'd published on stitching images together to create panoramas. I told him I'd look and get back to him. He was probably surprised that I actually did call him back, even though the news was bad and we hadn't published the article he was thinking of. But we ended up shooting the shit and talking shop for about 20 minutes anyway. I love panoramas and the programs that stitch them. It's just the coolest thing. So I'd taken the liberty of searching the web before I called him back and giving him the URL for Panoguide.com, which has a review page of tons of panorama stitching software. He was mucho impressed that I'd done that for him.

And he kept talking. And I didn't care. He's fun to talk to, and he asks technical questions that I can actually answer.

So he called back today to ask about scanners. And panoramas. And the panorama stock photo company he wants to sell to and the size of the files they're asking for and whether his girlfriend's computer has enough RAM to handle 110MB files. And I had a blast. This is a conversation I totally don't have time for, but I don't care. He's sending me waves of respect and gratitude, and I'm sucking it up.

He just laughed for, like, 20 seconds straight when he reminded me that I'd told him not to search the Internet just for the word "stitching" because he'd get tons of information on cross-stitch and sewing. He thought that was the funniest thing ever. I love Vincent.

So he asked me if I ever got up to New York. Not really. And he asked if I'd ever been there. I told him, yes, that my father was from a small town upstate and that I had visited there many times as a kid. Turns out Vincent works in that same small town three days a week. I described my late grandmother's house and its location to him. Small world.

He asked if it was okay if he called me back sometime if he needed more answers. No problem, Vincent, any time.

I forgot to mention in yesterdays post that there was a great thunderstorm during my date with Sara. No actual rain, but lots of dramatic thunder and lightning. We've been hoping that would happen during a date for a long time. I know this sounds teenager-y, but it was sooooooo cool!

FLASH
"Get on your knees."
KABOOMrumblerumblerumble
*shiver*