wen in limbo, drink

George and I continu to anxiusly wait to hear bak about th apartmnt we fel in lov with yestrday. Aparently, th land lady cald my mom (who I put down on my rentl aplication as a previus land lady), and at least one of my refrences. She's taking this seriusly. George and I hope for th best.

We did erands for Tiffany today: brot library items to librarys. (Tiffany owes ten dolrs in late fees to th main branch. Th womn at th circulation desk told us to let her no.) We wandrd around in th Lincoln Park neibrhood and downtown, somwat aimlessly, pasng time and seing stuf. At som point, wile hungryly walkng west on N Chicago av, we got a hankrng for piza; but piza parlrs seem odly uncomn in Chicago. We had gotn within fifty feet of th El stop we pland to take home and had just givn up hope of findng piza, wen sudnly, ther it was, a jenuine piza parlr, complete with sneeze gard and frendly Italian-lookng gy. We each tryd th cheese: George one slice and I two. It tasted plesnt, nicely spiced with basl and garlic. I wasn't crazy about th crust, but we considrd it mor or less a good meal, just wat we wantd. It seemd od that we found it th moment we stopd lookng, two doors down from our El stop.

We considrd going out tonyt to an opn mic, but wound up stayng in, playng bakgamn and casino, complainng about Jack White, blabng on about "art" music and "pop" music, eatng fresh popy corn (made with peanut oil and acidently ovr-saltd), and drinkng from a botl of sevn-year-old wine that our frend and formr manajr Meg gave us as a house-warmng presnt. George went to bed (a tired George), and here I go riting pointless details about th day into this here music blog.

O yes, and at som point I talkd to Amy and Beth on th fone, who I'm hoping can visit during their wintr breaks for yule tidings in Chicago.

I gess that sums things up for now. Much lov to al,
Androse th Chicagoan Nim