I'll type most of it out for your grimacing pleasure:
I am writing in connection with your application for admission to the MSt 1900-present. The application and supporting materials have now been carefully considered by the Faculty of English but I am sorry to have to tell you that your application has not been successful. Application to Oxford is extremely competitive and we are not able to offer places to all the excellent candidates who apply...
...Thank you for having considered Oxford as a place to undertake graduate work. We wish you every success with your plans for your future studies.
Yours sincerely
[digitized signature]
Professor Smarty Pants in a Gorgeous Robe
Director of Graduate Studies
I'll keep my bitter comments to a bare minimum because I'm trying to stay Positive and Upbeat and Take Shit As It Comes My Way, but firstly:
"Application to Oxford is extremely competitive"
uhh... YOU THINK? YOU THINK I'M AN IDIOT AND DIDN'T KNOW THAT? Thanks, Dr. Professor Obvious.
"We are not able to offer places to all the excellent candidates who apply."
At least you have the condescension to recognize me and every other Joe Schmoe as excellent. Thanks.
Also: This sucks.
It's just going to take a while. It's going to take a while to sink in, and it's going to take a while to accept. I keep seeing Oxford University Press boxes at work and tearing up. I cultivated that future in my heart of hearts for such a long time and now the door has been closed. Part of me doesn't understand that it's over. I've thought fleetingly about writing the admissions office a letter (saying what, I don't know), trying to find ways around the "no." Hoping beyond reason that it was a mistake (hey - Northwestern just did that with their undergrads), or that miraculously, irrationally, divinely, Philip Pullman will finally read the copy of my thesis I sent him and do me a solid. Don't worry, though. I know he won't. If I understand the man at all, I understand that he doesn't do solids.
Fortunately, I've had some potent distractions from all of this depressing scholastic business of mine. As predicted, my trip to New York was amazing. Seriously one of the best trips I've ever taken, anywhere. And the biggest "site" I saw was the Central Library (and, I suppose, Grand Central Station.) No Statue of Liberty. No Empire State Building. No Times Square.
Sights / Sites I did see:
-a distinct lack of crazy people. Wtf, New York? I was expecting - nay - looking forward to a gamut of weird, slightly scary, and very abrasive folk getting up in my grill. The craziest I came across was a dude who spat in front of me, not realizing I was there, and then APOLOGIZED, "Excuse me, Miss!"
-a twenty foot tall inflated rat used by unions to shame businesses they're wrastling with. This particular specimen was in front of an NYU dorm, but facing a church. My friend very excitedly pointed it out and assured me this was a very authentic experience I should document, and we speculated whether a painters' union would want to shame a church or a university. Jury's still out.
-more hipsters than I've seen since I lived in SE Portland.
-Stumptown coffee beans! I got to Brooklyn before my friend I was staying with did, so I stepped into a coffeeshop to get out of the rain and take a load off. I felt like I'd walked into a cleaner, larger version of Fresh Pot on Hawthorne. Amazing. The cappuccino was a dollar more, but it sure was nice. Before the rat incident, my rodent-aware friend Brian took me to Stumptown in the Ace Hotel where he finagled us free coffee from a friend working there. I'll be frank: it was weird. Apparently the Ace requires the baristas to wear hats and suspenders and the gimmick was wearing a little thin. The tattoos and ironic facial hair were there, but hats? Come on. This isn't Intelligentsia. Also, there was taxidermy.
-Purl Soho, posh and popular pan-crafting store. I've been reading their blog for years and love their distinctive clean and colorful look they have going on, so a jaunt to their actual store was a must, and I wasn't disappointed. To be honest, I didn't even look at the yarn. I went straight to their killer collection of fabrics and walked out an hour later with $70 worth of fat quarters. (Fat quarter = generous 1/4 yard bolt of fabric.)
-Dean and Deluca. A total accident, actually. I really just needed to go to the bathroom. I ended up finding a Kusmi Tea display and no bathroom, which was fine. Kusmi Tea was one of the few things I really wanted to bring home from France last year, and I thought I'd have to ration my supplies until I died, or restocked at a Monoprix in the hazy future. (Other things I brought home: one jar of Speculoos spread, one bottle of Ricard, two half sheets of Florentine paper.)
-the best bagel I've had in years. Literally. Sarah took me to Peter Pan in Greenpoint (I think?) and I basked in a toasted pumpernickel bagel with cream cheese. And then I ate the freshest doughnut I've ever had.
-this:
and this:
and this:
and this:
which becomes this:
MAST BROTHERS CHOCOLATE FACTORY! This was an exciting moment for me, and I couldn't have brought a more perfect accomplice. Sarah, my lovely hostess and fellow gourmande, not only indulged my enthusiasm but shared it. We nibbled. We oohed. We aahed. We definitely whispered about the cute boys who work at Mast and listen to Madonna in their spare time (old Madonna - never fear). And then, at Sarah's suggestion, we took our chocolate stash and bought orange juice and champagne and drank mimosas for five hours while painting our nails. Could there be a more perfect Saturday morning/afternoon? No. The answer is no.
I didn't make it to Etsy Open Craft Night, but it turns out I was totally okay with that, and spent my time in much better pursuits. Namely hanging out with friends, and eating fucking fantastic food.
To sum it up, that's actually what this trip was about. The food was a GLORIOUS surprise, but the friends - they were the bread, the butter, and the motivation for this week away. I didn't realize until I was taking a solo subway voyage across town just how much this year of living away from a lot of friends has taken a toll on me. I don't feel very lonely and I actually really like the quiet library of my home life, but so much of me has withered and faded. I got to meet up with my friend Kate for brunch, and attempting to embarrass me, she slipped a little personal trivia into our conversation. I don't think the other people at the table caught on, but I was struck by just how well she knows me (and what a creep she is for remembering that I like how asparagus-pee smells). And just how much the bulk of people I interact with here do not. Brian, my rat-spotter and friend from Bennington, is someone I haven't seen since I was eighteen. We've corresponded through letters far longer than we've known each other in person, and yet after seven years absence, hanging out with him was normal and natural and wonderful. He has so much life in his eyes, now, and certainty. I wonder how I've changed, too.
some great moments:
Sarah and Diego, hostess extraordinaire and my hair in dog form.
Donny, Islander and One Time Owner of a Rumpus Room.
The Best Food I've Ever Eaten, at Five Leaves in Greenpoint. (In the company of Sarah and Kate, and at Sarah's insistence / recommendation. She doesn't lead astray.)
The Columbia Couple, Greg and Whitney. This was before we found a spare toilet on the street and after Greg got real with me about ladies and their bits.
I actually got to visit both David and Lily at their various places of employment before we got together for dinner this night. David spent half an hour pretending I was his customer, slicing me about twenty sizable hunks of cheese to taste, and Lily gave me a very personalized and interesting tour of level two at MoMA! I hadn't seen either since I left Portland in 2008, and boy do I miss them both. The technically "good" picture I got after this doesn't do them justice.
Same with this lovely lady! She walked into the hallway in Grand Central Station and I think I might've squealed. Pat. With Long Hair. WHOA. I still have a lady crush on her. So awesome to walk and talk and laugh and remember and discuss. Lady crush.
Unfortunately, Brian refused to let me take a picture of him, and I'm too much of a lady to take a covert one. Also unfortunately, I forgot to take one of Lauren. Maybe she'll send me a picture of her with Fantastic Mr. Wes? In any case, lack of photographic documentation in no way signifies lack of love.
Ok. Time for sleep. This hair doesn't curl itself. I'll get to the other bits and bobs tomorrow. Scouts honor.
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