Thursday, May 1, 2008

Not kicking ass, just taking names.

Every Thursday finds me hovering over my Gmail account, waiting for someone to send me the notecard that lets me know that they're in for tomorrow. Gmail auto-updates, so even as I'm writing this post I'm still watching my mail like a hawk, ready to swoop down on a fresh registration.


Any minute now...


(cough, cough)

Some weeks it all comes in a flood, others it's like watching for a pot to boil. It can get pretty maddening sometimes.

I like to let Karine know who's in so far at around the 24-hour mark before the event (that's 7:00 my time). I've never asked, but I assume that's when she starts booking the matches. I'm usually not a part of that process.

But I need those names. Gotta have 'em. Names mean that we've got a show tomorrow. Names mean that I don't start mindlessly stressing and pacing up and down the aisle of the bookmobile. I like names. Names are good.

Feed me names!

(Bill E., I know you're reading this. Restrain yourself.)

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