MLA Misc

When I did that Jeopardy game with my classes a few weeks ago, they all pronounced "Misc" as "Misk." Now I can't look at that word without thinking "Misk for 300."

Anyway, I'm in Hyannis (a town down on Cape Cod - my first time on the Cape) for the MLA conference. Right off the bat, I must say this is no TLA. Texas has one of the biggest state library conferences (shocking, yes?) and I was just completely blown away by the scope and size of the conference last year. MLA is. . . much smaller. Like, less than 10% of the size of TLA.

But it's been terrific. I have thoroughly enjoyed myself, although I'm ready to get home to my own bed and regular food again.

Some highlights:

Cory Doctorow (author of Little Brother, among other things) spoke yesterday about copyright. Listen, I know you want to fall asleep just reading that last sentence, but it was truly fascinating. The new frontier of digital books means you don't always have a physical copy and the copyright laws mean you don't control your purchase. Amazon can reach into your Kindle and take back a book you purchased. Licensing agreements tell you what specific products you can USE your purchase on. Cory Doctorow is a big believer that authors should not sell out for small royalties at the cost of losing control of their property. Oh, it was awesome. Are you all asleep?

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There was a really great panel yesterday about how libraries can serve homeschooling patrons. They had excellent suggestions about books to read and programs to run, and it was just FUN. I love homeschooling.

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Last night, at a dinner, when we were talking about Texas and how much I liked living there, a woman told me very seriously that I should be sure to not move back to Texas until I have had all my children, because (and this is an EXACT quote), "They let babies die in Texas." And then she just stared at me, as if to make sure I took in the gravity of the situation.

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Right now, I'm in a session with BBC Audiobooks, with a narrator talking about the process of recording audiobooks. I don't need to tell you how cool that is. The narrator said people ask if you can make a small fortune doing it and she said she always replies, "Yes, if you start with a large fortune."

It really is fascinating to hear about the monetary and technical details of making those audiobooks, especially since I listen to so many of them.

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I'm just glad to be here; it's been a lovely week. Also, I had two beds. All to myself. Sadly, I only could figure out how to sleep in one at a time.

When the Whistle Blows by Fran Cannon Slayton

9 of 10: When the Whistle Blows is beautifully written; you'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll close the book happy. One of the better written books I've read this year.

Since I picked this book up at TLA over a year ago, I've had the impression that it would be a little like Rocket Boys (renamed October Sky), which is one of my favorite books.

I was right. This book has a lot of the same elements - small West Virginia town, kept alive by a single industry, a kid with a dad he doesn't really understand, and a post-WWII setting. And it works just as well for me here as it did in Rocket Boys.

In When the Whistle Blows, the industry keeping Rowlesburg alive is the railroad. Jimmy Cannon loves the railroad and can't wait to work there someday. Both of his brothers have dropped out of high school to work for the railroad, and his father is adamant that Jimmy stay in school and graduate. He keeps claiming the steam-engine is going to go the way of all the earth, to be replaced by the diesel engine and when that happens, Rowlesburg will be a ghost town. Jimmy, of course, can't believe that is possible.

Which brings us to Jimmy's dad. The story is really as much about him as it is about Jimmy. Each chapter takes place on Dad's birthday, Oct 31st, Halloween, so the book covers the years between 1943 and 1949. Each year, as Jimmy gets a bit older, he sees new sides of his dad, but he continues to be perplexed by him. Sometimes his dad is stern and strict, sometimes he's wildly unpredictable, and sometimes he is up to crazy antics. There's just no telling what you'll get.

The book is based on the author's father and grandfather and their lives in the actual town of Rowlesburg, which I thought was pretty cool (maybe I'm just easily impressed?). Either way, it's no surprise that it's based on reality because the characters and the setting ring so true to life.

This book probably isn't for everyone - it's a little more on the reflective, slow-moving side, but, oh, is it lovely. Definitely worth reading.

Advance Reader Copy obtained from publisher at the TLA 2009 Conference

Tell Me What to Read: Round 11

Once again, the end of the month draws nigh. And tomorrow is when the MLA conference begins, so I'll be enjoying it on the Cape, so of course, I have no complaints about the end of the month.

As predicted, I was not nearly so awesome in April. Frankly, it wasn't my best month of reading, except for that week in Mexico, which really helped me out. I'm just getting sidetracked by other projects (um, like Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution on Hulu. You know, important things).

Here's how it goes:

1. Comment with the title of one book you think I should read (any book you want). One title only, please, lest my brain explode.
2. I'll select one comment at random and announce it on the blog within the next week.
3. On the off-chance that I've already read the book you select, I'll contact you and ask for a follow-up suggestion (make sure there is a way to contact you either by blog or email).
4. I'll get a copy of the book and read it by the end of May.
5. I'll write a review of it here. Even if I hate the book, I will not hate you.

Mexico

And we're home.

Actually, we got home on Friday evening, which is most definitely the way to go, because it meant we could use Friday evening to unpack, go grocery shopping, and do laundry, and then have the whole weekend before returning to work. We are so over the "return on Sunday night, preferably on the very last flight" concept.

Cancun was delightful. We slept a lot (averaging around ten glorious hours a night), ate some lovely meals, laid by the pool and on the beach, took some long walks, watched a bunch of movies and read and read and read. It was beautiful. 

It was just so nice to have a week of no responsibilities, no schedule, nothing we HAD to do, and days and days of time with Bart.

I did not really like so much the afternoon where I totally lost at mini golf. But I forgave Bart for being so much better at it than I am. I am a good person.

My favorite thing, though, was this hilarious little clown car we rented.

It's good to be home.

Week 28

And I am now officially in the third trimester.

Alien

When my dad was here a few weeks ago, he pulled my baby book off the shelf (I hadn't even realized we had it) and as we flipped through it together, we came upon this ultrasound image of me when I was almost exactly as far along as our baby is right now.

And yes, I look like an alien. When people say, "Most ultrasounds look like an alien, but MY baby is so beautiful," I think, "No, your baby ALSO looks like an alien." I even think my own precious, darling baby looks like an alien.

Waiting

Before my husband, Bart, and I got married in August of 2005, I told him I wasn't ready to have children right away. I knew he was really excited to have kids and would have been happy to have a honeymoon baby, if that's what I wanted, so it was important to me that he knew I needed some time. I told him it might be up to five years before I was ready to have a baby.

Frankly, I didn't anticipate it would be that long, but every year or so, when we'd discuss the possibility of trying to get pregnant, I felt completely unready and we'd postpone discussion of the topic for another six or twelve months. Our baby is due this July, one month and one day before our fifth wedding anniversary.

I certainly think that when to have children is an intensely personal decision and that there is no one right time for everyone (I am very grateful that my parents never said or insinuated or hinted at any preference about our decision to wait), but I feel strongly that waiting several years has been a very positive experience for us for the following reasons:

• I am pretty ambitious and I think if I'd gotten pregnant right away and not had time to do more schooling or work for a while, I would have been fairly discontended about the whole situation. As it is, I've been able to complete both a bachelor and master's degree and work full-time for several years since we got married. I think having had these experiences will help me feel happier about my new role in life since I won't be feeling like I haven't accomplished the things that have always been important to me.
• I was only 19 when we got married (just a few weeks shy of 20), and while I (probably incorrectly) feel like I was plenty mature in many ways, I think I needed some time to grow up in other ways before throwing myself into motherhood. Not to mention that my biological clock wasn't exactly ticking loudly at that point.
• Bart and I are both very independent and fairly stubborn people. At this point in our marriage, we are far better adjusted to working together and compromising than we were five years ago. Our vision of our lives and family is far more similar than it was when we first got married.
• Bart took a while to settle into his current career field (part of which included getting a master's degree) and I'm unbelievably glad that he's qualified and happy in his job now, a situation that simply didn't exist for us two or three or four years ago.
• When we finally made the big leap to start trying to get pregnant, I was able to be really actually excited about it. It has been such a fun and joyful experience so far; I just do not think I would have felt this whole-heartedly happy about it if we'd gotten pregnant before I really wanted to.
• It has brought Bart and me closer together. Maybe this sounds funny, but there has been almost nothing Bart has done for me in the last five years of marriage that has meant as much to me as his absolute non-pushing on this issue. I knew, of course, that he was incredibly baby-hungry, and would have loved to have a baby a few years ago, but he has never made me feel like I was wrong to want to wait or that he was at all disappointed by my several years of resistence. Even when we finally agreed that we wanted to start trying, he assured me several times that if I wanted to change my mind and wait another year or two, he would be fine with that.

As I said, waiting or not waiting isn't right for everyone - the timetable for your family is going to be different than mine and the reasons I wanted to wait and then not wait will hold no water with some of you. But for us, this was the right decision, and I couldn't be happier that we'd waited or that we'll have a baby daughter this summer.

(Cross-posted on That Wife while she enjoys her own newborn baby boy).

Crafty

So you remember that thing about how I hate to spend a lot of money, right? So, you can imagine how much the thought of buying maternity jeans really thrilled me to my core. Especially when no stores carried my size in stock and I would have had to order them online withOUT trying them on, plus pay shipping. And pay about $40 at the very minimum for a pair. It was all very very bad.

But I can't very well live without jeans. Even in Las Vegas, in the absolute hottest part of the summer, I wear jeans basically every day.

And then I had the brilliant idea that maybe I could make some. And Kayla said, no, that didn't sound insane. I'd buy some super cheap jeans at Savers, chop off the top and sew one of the Bella Bands Merrick gave me to the top (hope you didn't want that Bella Band back, Merrick), and voila! Cheap.

So, after trying on approximately 6 million pairs of jeans at Savers, I bought this pair for $5.99. And all the land rejoiced. 

Also, these jeans had some weird sizing, so, hey, apparently I wear a size 25! Sweet.

I used some cheap-o sidewalk chalk to mark where I wanted to cut - almost to the bottom of the zipper, since I really couldn't zip these pants up at all, and then up fairly sharply so that I could keep the pockets. On the back side, I cut just above the belt loops because I wanted the pants to fit as tightly as possible in the bum (begone saggy bums!) and I was worried if I cut too low, they'd slide right off.

Then I slid the Bella Band around the top of the pants, with right sides together, and zig-zagged around the whole thing (I didn't even bother to pin because I am exceptionally lazy and also because I don't actually seem to own any straight pins). The pockets were the trickiest part just because I had to get all the layers to lay flat, but when I say "trickiest" I mean "the only part that I could not have done in my sleep."

The worst part was at the end when I was going over a few places and KNOWING this was going to happen, I went right over the rivet on the pocket and broke off the tip of my needle. So, that was the end of that. Good thing it was all done anyway.

And this is how they look (do I take the worst pictures there ever were or do I take the worst pictures there ever were?):

And I was happy to have spent $6 (plus the cost of replacing my needle) instead of $40 or $60. I am ludicrously proud of myself. You'd think it took me hours instead of ten minutes.

Spring Break

After the beautiful spring weather of the last few weeks, this week has turned cold, windy, and rainy. There is even hushed talk of snow flurries later this week.

And yet, I do not care.

What has brought about this change of attitude? Have I lost my mind decided that I don't mind winter all that much? Certainly not.

I'm in Mexico. For a week. Bart and I are celebrating his upcoming thirtieth birthday, our fifth anniversary, the end of our childless days, my week of spring break, and the successful completion of his first busy season in accounting.

We're staying at a resort and have no plans to do anything besides eat, sleep-in, lay by the pool, walk along the beach, read, and watch movies. This will not be one of our trips where I have the minute-by-minute schedule of places to eat, things to do, and people to see. The only minute-to-minute agenda I have is to circle the eight restaurants and eat everything on every one of their menus.

If my next pregnancy pictures show me having gained 50 pounds, you will know why.

Ready, Set, Go

If you read Merrick's blog, you may have seen her very cute pregnancy pictures, starting at Week 26 and continuing through until about two days before her baby was born (spoiler! she had her baby!).

I'd planned on doing the same thing, but I didn't look pregnant for a while. (That black thing sticking out of my stomach is the tie on my shirt, not an insanely oddly shaped baby. But you probably guessed that).

And then I was kind of lazy about actually taking them. And then Bart went to New Mexico for work for an entire month and took the camera with him. So, you know, I'm blaming him.

But now he is home and it's still reasonably light when I get home from work and now I can subject you to poorly taken pictures of me every single week. Don't all thank me at once (Ralphie, please move next door. Thank you).

Thirteen

Today would be Shepard's thirteenth birthday. I've been thinking a lot about him in the last few days.

Sometimes, I think about the big events of his life - the night I came home to him having a massive seizure and having to make the call to 911, the night my mom came home from the hospital to tell us Shepard probably only had a few weeks to live, his funeral.

But this week, I've been thinking about him, who he was outside the context of the defining events of his life.

The way he called ranch dressing "white ketchup."

How smooth his head felt when he had no hair.

The way he'd throw himself off the arms of the couches and chairs.

His attempts to carry 15-20 tiny matchbox cars simultaneously, using his hands, arms, and chin.

How much he liked pushing the feed button on the printer to get a few sheets of paper so he could go to the top of the stairs and drop them through the banisters, then run down, gather them up, and repeat the whole activity.

How much he and I looked alike as infants.

The way he'd tell my dad over and over, "Dis da last one" in order to get my dad to toss him up in the air just one more time.

The way his voice sounded when he called me "Woo-ie" (my mom calls me "Louis").

The way he'd stand at the locked garage door (which led to the playroom) and sing, "OPEN THE GATES AND SEIZE THE DAY" at the top of his lungs so someone would let him out there.

Happy Birthday, Shepard.

My Favorite Time of Day

Now that the weather is warming up (well, most days) and the sun comes up earlier, Bart and I have started walking (and occasionally running) in the mornings together.

While our apartment is not particularly nice, the neighborhood is lovely, full of beautiful houses and quiet streets, and at six a.m., the roads are silent and still.

It's become one of my favorite parts of the day. We do nearly three miles, so we're going pretty quickly in order to be home in time to shower, dress, eat breakfast, and get out the door in a timely manner. I love the long uninterrupted stretch of time to talk to Bart. We talk about inane things like the insane number of CR-Vs in Boston and what houses could use a little repainting and more serious matters like money and our baby and work.

If our baby is an early-ish riser, I hope we continue through the summer and into the fall, before the mornings get dark and cold again.

The Birthday Ball by Lois Lowry

8 of 10: Lois Lowry is such a master of writing in virtually every genre and this is no exception. The Birthday Ball is a non-magical princess book that I suspect even most boys will enjoy.

I have always had a soft spot in my heart for Lois Lowry. Her first Newbery-winning title, Number the Stars, was the first chapter book I read on my own. And later, the summer before I was married, I finally read The Giver and fell completely in love with it, so much so that I read it aloud to Bart the next summer.

When Houghton Mifflin Harcourt invited me to an author's dinner at ALA Midwinter in January, and I saw that she was one of the authors who would be speaking, well, I was just really excited.

Because the authors spoke in alphabetical order by last name (the librarian in me was pleased), Lois Lowry was the second to last speaker. Bringing up the rear was Linda Urban, a first-time author, who stood up at the podium and said, "I know I only have five minutes to speak, but could you allow me just five seconds to stand here and breathe in the same air that Lois Lowry was just breathing?" I felt exactly the same way (except, you know, I was sitting in a chair halfway across the room, rather than at the same podium).

The Birthday Ball starts out with a fairly standard premise: Princess Patricia Priscilla is turning sixteen and must, at the ball held in her honor, choose a husband. But if you know anything about Lois Lowry, you know this book won't be exactly as you expect.

She borrows some clothing from her maid and enrolls herself at the local school, where, surprise, surprise, the teacher is new and young and. . . well, quite handsome and kind. Who would have thought?

Her parents (who are full of their own hilarious quirks) have, of course, chosen three potential suitors to come to the ball, each more horrible than the last, and as I read it, I could just imagine the children at my elementary schools laughing themselves sick over these fellows (the one who will not look in any mirror and even has servents who walk ahead of him to smash mirrors and stir up lakes lest he see how truly hideous he is, the twins joined at the hip who can't agree on anything except their determination to marry Princess Pat, and the one who smears his hair with oil and murmers loving words to his biceps, spitting when he speaks).

It is a fairy tale-ish kind of book (despite the absence of magic), after all, so things wrap themselves up nicely, of course. And who would want it any other way?
 
And as if the idea of a new Lois Lowry book wasn't enough for you, the illustrations are done by Jules Feiffer, whom I have loved since my dad first read The Phantom Tollbooth to me. The drawings perfectly match the storyline, making the good guys even more lovable and the bad guys even more heinously awful. This book would make an excellent read-aloud. Just delightful and funny.

It reminded me a bit of a Roald Dahl book. And that's a good thing.

Advance Reader Copy obtained from publisher at the ALA 2010 Conference

Science Guy

Bart's younger brother is in town visiting right now, so we'd planned on going down to Plimouth Plantation today, but it was pretty chilly and very windy out, so we scrapped that idea and decided to visit the Museum of Science downtown instead. Bart had two free tickets from work that expired at the end of the month and I get in free because I'm an "educator."

We hopped on the T and rode into the city.

By the time we switched green line cars THREE times (the cars kept going out of service), we were pretty hungry, so we went directly to the cafe and ate the lunch we'd packed and which Bart had kindly carried the whole way. Over lunch, we decided that we'd see two shows and that we'd each choose two exhibits to see (Bart picked "Birth" and "The Human Body," I picked "Seeing is Deceiving" and "Mass Consumption," and Andrew chose "Mathmatica" and "Nanotechnology"). 

Feeling invigorated, we went to the indoor lightning show, which was pretty cool. We did about half our chosen exhibits, than went to the animal show, which was about snakes. Bart fell asleep.

Overall, we spent about three hours in the museum and thoroughly enjoyed it. You could have spent the whole day - there was SO much to see and so many things to do.

Finally, home again, home again, for a dinner of soup and biscuits, before Bart and Andrew settled in for a viewing of the final Lord of the Rings movie (we have our priorities around here).

Grandma

As you might have guessed, names are very important in my family, perhaps especially to my mom.

So it will come as no surprise to you that she has put a lot of effort into figuring out what she wants her grandchildren to call her.

This may seem odd - don't you just go by "Grandma"? Not in my family. In my family, my mom's parents are "Grandma" and "Grandpa." My dad's parents are "Grannie" and "Grandad."

This has always seemed like a far superior system to me because it is SO easy to always know exactly who you're talking about. No "which Grandpa" inquiries necessary. This will probably be even more useful for our future children since Bart's parents are both remarried, resulting in FOUR grandparents on that side, not to mention the fact that Bart still has five of his own living grandparents (all of whom, of course, go by "Grandma" and "Grandpa.")

For years, my mom has tossed out suggestions about what she might go by when she's a grandmother. With the birth of Merrick's baby (the first grandchild in my family) just days away, I'm guessing my mom has something in mind, although I don't know yet what it is.

Are we weird? (Probably so. No need to answer that question).

Shakespeare Bats Cleanup and Shakespeare Makes the Playoffs by Ron Koertge

9 of 10: I am still fairly new to books written in verse, but Shakespeare Bats Cleanup and Shakespeare Makes the Playoffs are among the best. A quick and delightful read.

I doubt I would have picked up Shakespeare Makes the Playoffs at ALA if the two women in front of me at the booth hadn't both exclaimed with joy when they saw it. That's enough of a sell for me, generally, so I picked up a copy too.

Of course, when I got home, I realized that it was the sequel to a book, so clearly I needed to read the first one before reading the second. It took me a long time to get around to requesting the first one, but once I finally had it, I read both the first and the second book in one week. They were delightful.

The first one begins with Kevin coming down with mono and ending up stuck at home for a month while he recuperates. His dad is a writer and works from home; they have a close relationship, but they also give each other a fair amount of space. Kevin's dad gives him a composition book, suggesting that perhaps Kevin might spend some of his homebound time writing. He nabs a book about poetry from his father's study and starts writing in his book, experimenting with various forms of poetry, from sonnets to haiku to blank verse.

As the story develops, you learn that Kevin's mom died recently and that he and his father are both dealing with the after-effects of her passing. The poems are by turns heartbreaking and funny. They're just what you'd imagine a (somewhat more awesome than average) teenage boy might come up with.

This one, titled "Back to the Past," I especially liked:

Mom bought the glove for me.
Not for my birthday or a bunch
of A's. Not for anything really.


We just went to Sports Chalet
one night and tried a few on.
Bought the Wilson A2K,
top of the line, as good as it gets.


I told her I was fine with my
old glove.


But she said, "No, I want you
to have something that will last 
a long time."


Now I'm pretty sure she knew she 
was sick. I'll bet she was afraid
that she didn't have


a long time.

Both books were just terrific. I loved the variety of styles, the range of topics, and Kevin himself. He dealt with various situations in ways that seemed, to me, so very realistic. I hope there's a third book.

Shakespeare Bats Cleanup obtained from my local library and Shakespeare Makes the Playoffs from the publisher at ALA Midwinter in Boston.

What I'm Going to Read: Round 10

And, just to prove that lightning can strike twice, Smalldog, who put in the winning bid in January with Dealing with Dragons, won again, this time with The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley. If you're planning on buying a lottery ticket soon, you might consider calling her up and asking for her advice, as she seems to have a magic touch.

Also, Angie at Angieville is starting up "Tell Me What To Read" on her blog, so if you didn't win this time, why don't you see if you have better luck with her? (TMWTR is sweeping the. . .three blogs!!!).

Other suggestions:

• One Thousand White Women by Jim Fergus (Jle122)
• Still Life With Rice by Helie Lee (Diana Banana)
• Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child by Marc Weissbluth (Carly Jane and Bethany)
• Angle of Repose by Wallace Stegner (Zillah)
• Waiting for Normal by Leslie Conner (Jenny)
• Persuasion by Jane Austen (Landen)
• Little Face by Sophie Hannah (Life of a Doctor's Wife)
• The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollen (Janet)
• Conspiracy 365 February by Gabrielle Lord (Mary) 
• Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Ann Burns (Mary)
• Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman(Angella)
• A Ring of Endless Light by Madeleine L'Engle (RA)
• The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot (Lisa)
• The Road Home by Ellen Emerson White (Angiegirl)
• Prince of Foxes by Samuel Shellabarger (Katie)
• The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver (Becca and Miri)
• Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See (Kayla)
• House Rules by Jodi Picoult (P)
• Poison Study by Maria V Snyder (Shannon)
• East of Eden by John Steinbeck (Merry)
• The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold (Saskia)
• His Majesty's Dragon by Naomi Novik (Amy Sorenson)
• Bright Shiny Morning by James Frey (Kayla)
• Amy's Eyes by Richard Kennedy (Janelle)
• The Great Starvation Experiment: Ancel Keys and the Men Who Starved for Science by Todd Tucker (Poodle)
• Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson (Melinda)
• The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins (Sherry)
• The Thief by Megan Whalen Turner (Mia)
• Baby Catcher: Chronicles of a Modern Midwife by Peggy Vincent (Jessica)
• Climbing the Stairs by Padma Venkatraman (Katie)
• Jitterbug Perfume (Peaceful Reader) 
• The Jungle by Upton Sinclair (Heidikins)
• The Year of Fog by Michelle Richmond (Julia)
• The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein (Julia)

Of these, the only ones I've read are:

• Conspiracy 365 February by Gabrielle Lord
• Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
• The Jungle by Upton Sinclair
• The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein

Time to get cracking, clearly!

Phone Call

I remember Shannon Hale mentioning a year or so ago that the day before the Newbery awards were announced, she was very aware that the calls would be going out early the next morning and having a secret hope that one of those phone calls might be coming her way. Certainly there are people who win a major award and have no idea such an award even exists before they are announced the winner, but I think more often people are like Shannon Hale - secretly wishing that phone call will come your way.

I have no aspirations to get a Newbery or Caldecott phone call one day, but a few weeks ago, I applied for a scholarship that would allow me to go to the Massachusetts Library Assocation conference in late April - there were five scholarships available to first time attendees, which would pay for half of lodging, all of registration and meals, and a year of MLA membership. I wanted to go, of course.

The conference is not particularly huge (about 600 attendees) and I figured the number of first-time attendees was fairly limited, not to mention that most of them probably wouldn't apply for the scholarship anyway.

I applied, crossing my fingers, and then I waited. The website said that recepients would be notified by phone by Friday, April 2.

Last Friday, I was in New Mexico with Bart and I spent nearly the whole day obsessively checking my phone. When four p.m. rolled around (six p.m. in Boston), my hopes crumbled.

And yet, I still held on to a little bit of hope, since Friday was Good Friday and many schools and libraries were closed for the holiday (including mine), which made me think perhaps they had postponed the calls until Monday. I Googled the scholarship several times to see if anyone had mentioned receiving their phone calls, but nothing was coming up.

Yesterday, just before my last class, I ran into my office to grab something, checked my phone and saw two missed calls and a voicemail. The area code was a Massachusetts one.

The message said I was one of the recipients.

Drivers Ed

Dear Boston Drivers,

I would not consider myself a particularly amazing driver, but I have taken and passed several driving tests, so I feel confident in saying that when you approach an intersection to make a left hand turn and you are confronted by this sign:

you should not be very surprised when the guy in the lane across from you goes through the light. Moreover, cursing loudly and flipping him off for having the audacity to go straight when he has a green light, might be a rather inappropriate action seeing as you were the one trying to break the law by acting as if you had a green arrow.

Also, when you are on the freeway and the guy in front of you is rudely going only EIGHT miles over the speed limit while you want to go about twenty-five over, riding his bumper for four or five miles before getting over, screaming obscenities and waving a certain finger as you pass, might not really impress anyone much. Particularly when you have a hilariously awful seventies mustache and are driving a bright blue VW Beetle, otherwise known as the least intimidating car ever made.

I mean, I've heard about that whole Boston Tea Party incident, so maybe flagrantly flouting the law is just a centuries old Massachusetts tradition. But it doesn't exactly endear you all to the newcomers (you know, those of us who learned to drive in places where people generally obey the law and don't get up in your face when you try to drive like a normal person).

I'm just saying, the phrase "New England Hospitality" is not one you hear a lot, is it?

I didn't think so.

Consider what we've talked about. 

Sincerely,
Janssen