12.8.12

It's gonna be alright

Long time no post yet again. With reason though - I sank into a mental stupor following the scholarship rejection and it took a hefty dose of Team Fortress 2, ponies, Futurama and other shit to kill off any semblance of thought that may have formed in my head. It was essentially the post-breakup mental doomride all over again, and it took me quite some time to stomach the failure. I felt bad that people wrote me recommendations and all that, they tried their best and all in all it didn't work out.

Eventually, I settled into Plan B. The second university may not be as prestigious, but it's a tried-and-true option, and I'll have friends there to make the start easier, all that jazz. Afterwards, I can grab some sort of PhD and be settled in for life...

...and then guess what happens? Mom keeps bugging me about buying plane tickets to fly in for Christmas, so I log into my gmail account which I use to correspond with said university. It's been forever since I signed in, as I wasn't expecting any mail from them and all my other business is handled by my Polish email (which bounces off UK university email hosts like a charm). And guess what I see? University #1 comes back knocking, offering me a fully funded PhD spot starting in October. Guess the time stamp? A month before I logged in.

And this is where the crazy ride kicks in. I write them back, turns out the spot is still available, so they ship me an offer, and it turns out that I'd still need to redo my English language certificate. As you can probably tell from my posts, I know how English works, and I do have a "valid for life" certificate to prove it. Not good enough. As the whole course of action is such short notice, I apply for a waiver. The waiver thing starts going and the UK application nature kicks in immediately - here, have this article, whip up a summary, plus you'll get a phone interview. I whip up a summary, and it's been over a week since the phone interviewer was supposed to get in touch with me to schedule the thing.

Clock. Is. Ticking.

I can lose my down payment at the other university if these dudes don't get their stuff together and finally give me a clear green or red light. This limbo is extremely stressful, and the fact I'd bypass masters and get injected directly into PhD ain't helping soothe my nerves. I was freaking out over it non stop, and I was supposed to go a BBQ over at a friend's place yesterday to socialize a bit and calm down.

Guess what. I spent most of the BBQ walking around like a dope, distressed by truly disdainful power metal playing from the loud speakers, and trying to avoid the gaze of a rather hot female friend of his who was invited as well. Her Witty Line Of The Evening? Bronies need more sexual action. Easy for her to say, with her cover girl visage and callipygous posterior. Whatever droplet of sex appeal that may have been hiding in me got sucked out when I got my hair cut. Once the ordeal was over, I got my ass over to the train station. After absorbing the urban decay and perfect silence (stirred only by my footsteps) for half an hour, I got on the platform. Five minutes passed. Ten. The train was supposed to be here by now. I check the schedule again. Guess what, faggot - the train doesn't come on saturdays. Only saturdays, mind you. And that was the last train of the day. As such, no return to the mountains for me.

I hitched the next train out of there to the main train hub and went to where I usually live, seeing it for the first time in about a month and a half. My computer and primary guitar are in the mountains, so I dusted off the ancient lapper I used to chat with my ex. Glacial efficiency and a ton of toxic memories at their finest. The whole fiasco with the schedule left me further distressed, and I had trouble maintaining any semblance of composure - everything was just welling up and I had trouble imagining how the situation could get worse. It got worse when I woke up at 3am with a raging stomachache, as if a xenomorph was preparing to make its appearance. Cool.

Come morning, I was wiped and shaky. For whatever reason, I picked up my old classical guitar. I played Beneath. And shit got better.

Beneath may be a song about unrequited love and whatnot, but it got some vibes in my head. Vibes that have been gone for a long time. I felt like Rumpy again. The future is in the future, and I'm doing what I can to prepare myself for it. It doesn't matter all that much if I go to University A or University B, I'm continuing with my education. And music is an amazing thing... but I was well aware of that even when the vibes were gone. I need to finish up Big Axe, it's been a while.

I recorded a spontanous, horrible, horrible Mike Johnson cover with sour notes, rhythm fuckups and overpowering microphone static. Who gives a shit. Life's gonna be okay. I'll just Wait & See ;) Signing out, hopefully the next post will be 100% optimistic.