I answered the phone at work, and it was one of my photographer/writers, Suzette, calling to apologize for being late with her article. She says, "But I have a good reason," and goes on to tell me that she just found out she's pregnant, and she's been stunned ever since.

Ha. If I had a nickel for every time I've heard that excuse from a writer who's missed deadline.

Julie: I'm going to be late turning this in because I'm pregnant.
Stephanie: My story's going to be late because I'm pregnant.
Eddie: I got knocked up and haven't felt like writing.
Kevin: *sob* You just don't understand ... I didn't think I could get pregnant.

Anyway, I was teasing her about how floored she's been, and she asked, "Do you have kids?"

Okay, obviously, Suzette has never met me face-to-face. But I just blurted out, "No, I'm a lesbian", which I would normally never do. Not because I'm not out at work, but because nobody cares. Just a simple "no" would suffice. I don't want writers boring me with news about their spouses, so I don't tell them about mine. Actually, I was really interested in Suzette's news because she's one of my favorite photographers and she seems like a really nice person.

Of course, as soon as that comes out of my mouth, I have to say, "But, I guess that doesn't really mean I don't have kids. But I don't have kids."

Then we talked about all the gay couples she knows who are adopting or having kids some other way right now.

I guess the whole lesbian thing was in the forefront of my mind. I've gotten more than 60 guestbook entries from all of this folderol. I got about 350 hits yesterday. Dashenka, Belle, Sinnamon, Miguelito, Go Figure, Gawain, and Vondage have mentioned the issue in their own diaries. Who knew? I'm going to miss the flurries of "Someone Signed Your Guestbook" messages in my e-mail. That was fun while it lasted.

Gave blood today. Took an hour and a half to get through the process. Including joshing with the nurse that my blood had dropped in the iron-test solution waaaay before 15 seconds was up. She spun the blood anyway. Enough iron in my O-pos today.

The wait wasn't bad, though. They had "Remember the Titans" playing on a VCR, and I could watch it most of the time. I might've gotten done a lot sooner, but the lady next to me stopped bleeding 18grams short of a full bag, and the nurses were fussing and trying with her for quite a while before they gave up.

I got to see one lady walk out of the donation room, and then a couple minutes later a male nurse walking calmly out with a big frame chair. Then he came back with the lady in the chair a couple minutes later.

The guy next to me got woozy in the chair, admitted that all he'd had to eat today was a glass of juice at 5:30 a.m., and then try to waltz out the door when he was done without sitting down and eating the cookies and drinking the Hi-C.

When those nurses tell you to eat the Nutter Butters and drink the damn Hi-C, do it ya moron.

He got to the table. The Red Cross lady asked if he wanted ice in his Hi-C. He said, "Oh, no. Nothing for me. I need to get going."

I said, "You need to sit down." Then I told him how you could feel fine right after giving blood and then take an elevator (literally and metaphorically) to woozy city. He sat down.