Molly gets here tomorrow! I'm really excited. And she's sending me amazingly hot e-mail. So now I'm even more excited. It's pretty flattering to have someone fly from Washington to Atlanta to come see me. I hope I can show her a good enough time to make it worth her while. One of the things that made my date with Mac so easy was that he had no expectations at all.

Now I've got this online reputation to live up to. Geez. Oblivia just about made my ears pop from the blood rush with that guestbook entry [1091]. I'm expecting Jackie to upgrade from fan to stalker any time now. Nicole is asking for reservations in March. And if you don't think I'm enjoying every last minute of it, you can think again. If you guys don't tone it down, Deb's going to start smacking heads because I'll be impossible to live with.

I'd probably be having major anxiety right now if I hadn't already met Molly.

Oh, to be Winona Ryder's cell mate. Just for a week or so. Or, since she probably won't serve actual time, I'd be happy to be part of her community service.

I got a wild hair out of the blue yesterday and decided to e-mail my ex-wife, Deborah the First. I wasn't sure she was still at the address I had for her. I can't even remember the last time we communicated. It's been five years or more, I think. She wrote me back today. She seems to be doing really well, even though she's recovering from some spinal surgery to repair damage done when she got rear-ended in a car accident. Seems the surgery repaired some other chronic stuff that had been sapping her energy for years.

We were only together for three years or so, married for two and a half, but she was a really big part of my lesbian formative years. If she hadn't left me, I'd probably be a completely different person now. But I think her leaving me was inevitable. She didn't have the staying power for anybody back then. She says she married her current wife in '98, so that probably beats everybody else's record for longevity.

When I say we were married, of course I don't mean a legally recognized, state-sanctioned marriage. We wrote our own ceremony (there was poetry by Elsa Gidlow) and vows, and we said them and exchanged rings beside a river in the woods in a state park in Alabama. The only witnesses were Deborah's ex-girlfriend (the one she'd been with when she started dating me) and our dog. Then we had a reception that all of our friends came to and they gave us wedding-type presents. That was fun.

One friend was a married woman with a young daughter. Her daughter had obviously overheard her mom talking about us getting married and the reception, because one day she saw her little girl playing with one of her dolls, swinging it around and singing, "I'm going to marry a woooo-man, I'm going to marry a woooo-man." I bet that doesn't happen often in lower Alabama.

Deb (the current Deb, known as Deb, not Deborah) and I said vows and exchanged rings next to a creek in the woods at The Mountain, but there was no reception and no presents (except a free night's stay when my car broke down, and a flowering dogwood branch the UU folks gave us when they found out we'd gotten hitched).

So, now it's my turn to write back to Deborah the First. Since I've always been a horndog, she probably won't be too surprised by the poly news. Though my being able to handle jealousy issues might surprise her. We'll see.

Thirty-one hours till Molly touchdown. I am so not in the mood to work.