To the Parkview Girls

Okay, girls. I did it. I got into grad school.

I dedicate this acceptance letter to you Alice, Shannon, Katybird and Jes. After putting up with me in the year of our engagement AND the season of trying to get into ten MFA programs-- it is you who should be congratulated. At long last, more than a decade after graduation, I finally have closure to all that anxiety that was wrought during our senior year. Wedding planning aside, I was in an academic identity crisis and trying very hard to comport myself as an MFA candidate-- all the revising, the incessant self-doubt, the late-nights, the buckling self-esteem spiked with spells of arrogant grandiosity. As my roommates, you buoyed me through that year and now, I can see my debt to you.

Alice, for fasting with me and feeding me omelette just after. For calmly reading Plato while stirring at the stove. And for eating Ben and Jerry's with me when bad letter after bad letter showed up in the mail. We were cut from the same odd and beautiful cloth. I think of Geoff when I read Neruda but I hear your voice. Counseling school will help me plumb the waters in which, maybe ambivalently, you have always swum well. Love you bunches forever.

Shannon, I confess that I ate more than my fair share of that banana bread. It was sustenance for the hollow feeling the writing workshops gave me. I think God knew that I was not cut out for poetry school. I always admired your commitment to your nursing program, your clarity, the joy that work gave you. Summa cum laude, you are no joke and never ever will be.

Katybird, to you I owe my coffee addiction, my love for baking, and stock in DELL for an unbelievable amount of tech support. I printed everything out on your poor computer in the basement! And I had the gall to wake you from a sound sleep so that I could finish my analysis of Russell Edson's anus poem! I promise not to wake you when I try to finish papers for Westminster, no matter how strange the computer is acting. From a sound REM sleep, you could sit up, press buttons, and the printer would produce a ten page paper! However, I reserve the right to be tucked into the safety of one of your patented Katybird wingspan hugs.

Jes, remember that horrible time when I grilled you about why you thought psychology was a good major and did you think that was kind of a cop out? You don't? Okay good. Never mind. Ahem. Well, in case you DO remember that, I only said that because I didn't know what I wanted to do. (And I thought that Women's Studies might be a better fit for you.) Well, I certainly am getting mine now because here I am, about to take out mad loans to attend--in essence, psychology school. You showed me Kenneth Koch and his recordings,introduced me to good tea, and took photos that captured who I was during that unbelievable year.

So, girls, grab the nearest thrifted juice glass, shamelessly fill it with Prosecco (Jes, for you rootbeer) put on your fashion specs (aka grad school glasses), raise your glass and drink up! This one's for you!