I haven't even had a morning beverage yet. The email communication center page says "Good Afternoon!" on it. Yeah. It's morning to me you fuck. Six voicemail messages according to my phone. Six. But I was in the mobile-phone black holes of the ImprovOlympic and the Redhead for much of last evening so I don't know who called [no signal = no caller ID] and apparently, none of the calls arrived in the middle. I think they're all going to have to wait until I have at least half a cup of chai.
I'm going to have to wait:
- to hear from Rosie about the baby name. A new little bundle of joy was born on Thursday, July 10th at 4:44am. He weighed in at 7 pounds 9 ounces [much smaller than his older brother, John Peter, had been]. As of last week, his tentative name was Nicholas.
- until tomorrow to find out about an apartment in Logan Square. I hope it works out. I really need to get moving on this.
- for an update from Jeremy about the reading he had from Imaginary Year in Tucson last night. [If it happened . . . . apparently, one hell of a storm hit at the time of the reading.]