Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Monday, Mar. 31, 2003 @ 8:53 pm
Debriefing Spring 2003
This semester has flown by. All of a sudden Main Mall is fenced in orange and the plaza is filled with woodchips. The smell and sounds of Storm. I have a week of classes left - 3 days really - and these are my last 3 days of university.
My work on the Farm is wrapping up too. This weekend was my second-to-last feeding. Easter weekend will be my last. Lambing is nearing completion. The main barn is packed with chubby little new lambs - about 40 so far! It doesn't feel like I've lived here for an entire year. I've seen the fields burst from bare dirt to lucious produce-filled rows. The vineyard exploded with fruit while the grasses grew higher and higher - shoulder high mazes of nodding grasses.
Well, this year for sure has been one to scrapbook. A year of rural bliss just 25 minutes from hometown goodness.
What do I have planned for the next year? I'm headed to Ireland first week of May. That's just 5 weeks from now! There I will be staying on an organic smallholding, caring for horses just a mile from the beach. Horses, the beach, and Ireland, Kats, all three! Can you imagine? Can you imagine the smile on my face right now? So much hope. So much to look forward to.
After a month in Ireland I'm heading back to London where I'll meet up with my sister. From there we are planning to do The Loop through France, Spain, Italy, Greece, (Croatia?), Austria, The Czech, Germany, and BeNeLux. Ten weeks with Big Sis. We've got big plans for such a short time. We know that, and we're prepared to adjust our trip accordingly. I would talk more about this trip, but really, I don't want to put great expectations on it (or jinx it!). I cannot count on it to change my life, to change me. I cannot expect it to be fun the entire time. Perhaps the best advice that anyone has told me so far is this: the worse a situation seems at the time the better story it will make upon your return.
And when I return, no matter how long I have gone for, things around here will be exactly the same. Everyone will still be drinking from the keg at 'drejs. They'll still be going to watch the game at BP's. It will still be hip-hop wednesdays down at the slime bar. This reassures me; no matter how far away I am from here, I know that constancy is just an overnight flight away.
I am still waiting to find out about vet school and Saskatoon. Interviews happen early May - I'm hoping that will happen (or not happen) before I leave for Ireland. I honestly don't think that I'll get in this year, though. My application was strong, but not quite mature enough. More like, I'm not mature enough. I need time to learn about the world - the world outside this capsule life of university.
What I do have high hopes of is an internship that I applied for. I made it though the first screening stage, and I had a telephone interview on Sunday. It would be two months (September and October) working and living at a wildlife rehabilitation centre. Orphaned seals and injured raptors. I have to write them back to tell them if I think I am up for the demanding nature of the position. Am I up for it? Am I up for a position that will essentially make a major life decision for me?
If I take this internship I will probably be removing myself permanently from the Lab. Closing a door. I need to establish direction, and perhaps this is the time to do it. Biotech is NOT where I want to be in 10 years. Yeah, I think I need to close that door.
So I know you're waiting for the important information. But there is simply not any juicy boy gossip to tell. Sure there have been a couple heart-wrenching situations of desire and want, but there has been nothing substantially tactile. I can wait. My life is not defined by who loves me.
In summary, I am about to pack my books into storage and step off into a vast expanse of unknown. It's exciting - adrenaline rushing scary - to think about sitting in the waiting lounge of YVR on May 7th. Up and away. We went to watch the planes on Sunday night (you know about me and planes!). There we were, the two of us, our sillhouettes long against the rushes of the salt marsh and the orange sunset sky, and the roar of the planes skimming up over our heads.
I hope everything is going well with you - I think of you over there daily. Even moreso with SARS all over the media. I'll try to keep in touch. You do the same. Us normal people need to stick together.