This is the point where the woman in me wants to know why he hasn't called, if I'll ever see him again, and was he hitting on that blonde at the payphone or did he really go to the men's room?
Still no love from Greg Beal so I've been mapping locations of the writers I know of who've received dink letters, top ten percent letters and quarterfinal congrats. Know what I discovered? Squat.
No pattern that suggests the delay means I'm in.
You could just call me, Greg, and save me all this estrogen driven "will he or won't he" nonsense. Do you really want my overzealous singleminded Nicholl obsession to lead to an onion ring addiction and a Jenny Craig endorsement?
What's that? Well yeah, Greg, I know there were over 4800 entries, but don't you have free minutes after 7:00 p.m.? Got Skype? I have email and instant messenger...
I need closure!