Chicago

I spent most of last week in Chicago attending the Association of Writer's and Writing Program's (AWP¹) 2009 Conference. It was a blast.

I drove there in a minivan with four of my great friends: Dave, Dave, Mike, and Zach. Well, actually I slept most of the way, but I woke up enough to sing along to a rousing rendition of, uh, well, I forgot. I wasn't all that awake after all.

We stayed at the Palmer House Hilton. Don't ask how that happened—some combination of internet savvy, departmental funding, and sheer luck put us in a gigantic corner room of a four-star hotel with two beds and two extra cots for next to nothing. We went to presentations, flirted with girls at the book fair, ate in posh restaurants, saw the sights, and generally had a good time. On Sunday morning we packed up and drove home (again, I slept most of the way, except when I woke up enough to, well, nevermind). Here are some pictures I didn't take:

Zach and I at some kind of reception. Mom, thanks for
the puffy vest; it gave me Michael-J-Foxlike confidence.


Here's me and Mike and a little sliver of Jackson.


I didn't take this picture and I was never actually here, but it's
a nice shot. I lent Dave my camera for pretty much the whole trip.


¹I know what you're thinking: Why not AWWP? Hey, we're writers, not, uh, well, aw shoot.