So, after this many months, here I am writing in here again.

I did go to England, and I wrote a lot there. I’ll be posting selections from that in the next little bit, and some of this will make a lot more sense with that context anyway. It was just a lot, I didn’t have an internet connection on my laptop for the trip and then when I got back I didn’t feel like going through it all.

A lot of things happened for me over the summer and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be writing about it as it went: I wanted to be there for it. And I wasn’t sure if I could afford the distraction, most times, or if I’d even know what to say in the thick of it. Some things I wasn’t sure I wanted to write about at all, although now I’ve decided that I ought to—because otherwise is a cop out—maybe I might not post every detail online, but still—I’d rather write that in bits and pieces as it makes sense—

But the other thing is that in June, not long back, after a couple weeks chewing over that question of what to do with myself after not getting the job (I didn’t get the job, I wrote about that in England but you haven’t read that yet), I figured out what was I needed to do—it came to me in an instant as I was walking back from getting groceries from Stong’s, I was passing about Highbury and 20th, that corner under the tall trees from where the crows come down and attack those few weeks of the summer they nest there, and I’ll always remember the instant because once it had passed I couldn’t go back again—which was to go to graduate school. The stuff of Oxford had gotten into my brain. Some serendipitous timing of the rejection and the night at the Lamb and Flag. And then ideas had gotten into my head those first two weeks back, when I was reading slowly through that collection of Victorian poetry and as I made my way though The Idylls of the King I remembered my old honours thesis about Bringhurst’s mythology—those were the most lucid two weeks in years, I had actually caught up on sleep in England, I had no idea how behind I really was, and I was waking up every morning and making good breakfasts bright as a daisy listening to classic rock albums and then sitting down to read with a clear head, I didn’t even need very much coffee, this continued until I got a 7AM rotation and it fucked me up again—and I thought about what I could do with that stuff if I applied to it what I was reading. Etc. A series of ideas finding their way to blossom—there at the corner.

I got home, and I checked, and I do have the grades to get into Oxford. So that’s what I’m doing. That’s what I’m going for. I don’t know if I’ll get it, but I’m going for it.

It started a bit rough. Last two weeks of June, and the beginning of July, were dominated by a shitty work schedule that didn’t allow me to get going on anything. So what, it was early. (Birthday was good: on the day, went with Mom and Grandpa to dim sum place I like on West 4th. Had some gluten free options so she could eat something. Then went back and had cake and Italian dessert wine. Then a few days later, went to Hot Pot up Robson with some friends: Mark, Mike, Kirk, Daniel and Serra. I’ve never written about the last two before, but they’ve become prominent). On I think it was the 17th, was able to get myself to the library and write a poor-quality first attempt at a personal statement. Shape of thesis was wishy-washy for the rest of the summer, as I tried to familiarize myself with the Victorian period and Victorian poetry, because I’ve always ignored that period and now I propose to study it.

Then there was another trip to Montreal, which was a whole ball of wax that I’m going to write about in bits and bobs in the future but not now. Other than to say Cafe Noir Poems was launched, and I read at Accent Poetry and did well, and Mark came with me and also did well. But relevant to what we’re discussing, though: I was able to get a sit down with one of my old professors, Miranda Hickman, to talk about my application, and she helped me rethink my thesis from the ground up and although I stupidly did not record this exchange where I nailed what I wanted, I scurried out to Redpath right after and took some notes which did form the basis of the good version that I finished about two days ago. I cannot believe I have come this far; I still have far to go.

I’m applying to Oxford, Cambridge, Edinburgh, and McGill. I would not be sad to go back to McGill—although the application site doesn’t seem to want me to get through it.

That is, in brief, getting things up to speed.

At work? At work it’s the Bordeaux release on Saturday, so busy busy busy. I’ve been doing PC shifts since about the beginning of August. Some shifts are busy, some are boring. Lately a lot of boring. It’s easier to bear when I know my time there has a defined end. Because I’ll probably get in somewhere… and even if I don’t, I might quit anyway.

Oh, and I’m going to New Orleans in November for my cousin’s graduation. New Orleans, and then Los Angeles. I booked the tickets just this morning.