Behold, thrill as I pull ZIP codes out of thin air. There is just nothing more satisfying than issuing invitations from a spottily assembled guest list. At first I’d call or email the postally neglected person, but now I’m just making stuff up. It’s for a baby shower, and it’s not like I’M going to get any presents out of it. Now we’re down to the question mark section of the list. I think I’m just going to write “Aunt Broomhilda, Massachusetts” on the envelope and see who shows up.