What I am Not; The Dreadful School; You Will Never Guess Where I Am; and Smile; Though Your Heart is Breaking 

When I was staying with Trinka in West Marin I found a poem and thought that she had written it. I asked for permission to use it in the blog. She responded saying it was not her’s but Wendell Berry’s. It is beautiful, describing a woman, the antithesis of me. 
I dream of a quiet woman
Who explains nothing 
And defends nothing
But who only knows where the rarest wildflowers are growing 
And who goes to where they are 
And stands still 
And finds that she is smiling 
And not by her own will. 
Perhaps some day I will arrive at that serenity but it is highly unlikely, particularly given the circumstances of my life. The day before yesterday I received an email from a certain Sophie Cutforth from City University London informing me that: “I am writing to you with regards to a referral of alleged misconduct by you submitted to Student & Academic Services from the School of Arts & Social Sciences.” There is going to be a hearing on my misconduct in London in two to four weeks. Do I plan on attending? What do you think? In legalese, the school has no jurisdiction over my person. In ordinary language and common sense this is because 1) I am not enrolled in the school, due to the fact that 2) I withdrew from the school in December. Moreover, 3) I no longer live in the UK And Over and Above That 4) I have no interest in receiving a degree or any other qualification from the City University of London
So as far as I am concerned they can go ahead and hold their kangaroo court and waste everyone’s time but really there is no need because i am not there, but here in Canada. I suspect my ‘misconduct’ is telling the truth about Julie Wheelwright in this blog. But it does support my underlying viewpoint that British institutes are flawed.  This particular institution of higher learning allows the faculty to run amuck. There seems to be no policies and procedures and they do not consult with legal counsel before instituting proceedings agains individuals. 
In my humble opinion Julie Wheelwright should be calling Jon (with no h) and asking him the name of the program which instructs teachers of creative writing programs on how to be helpful to their students. Then she should enroll and improve the Creative NonFiction program at City University London. She should not be wasting her time trying to control me as I am in Canada. 
But the whole thing is, in a way gratifying. She must be reading my blog as this announcement came soon after she was mentioned by name. I am joking when I say: “The things you have to do to get readership. It is daunting.”  
So it is true that I am in Canada, I am in Vancouver. But where am I? It is not to be believed but I am presently at Trump international Hotel and Tower, Honest to goodness I am. What am I doing here? I have applied to stay at the Residences, apartments that are located on this property. It is actually ideal. It is downtown so I will not need a car, it is five blocks from the Apple Store and I am planing to publish using iBook. The staff assists not only hotel guests but also those in the Residence. There is a pool and a gym, the cost of membership included in the rents. Sort will be like Dolphin Square except newer and the gym charges were not part of the rent at Dolphin Square. There are also other benefits. The chief concierge has a British accent, is very charming and has volunteered to play a special role in my life. I told him about my terrible taste in men and he promised to provide a screening service. He will say in his charming British fashion: “You are not suitable.” He promises to be gentle and polite. 
Then this happened the other night. I awoke, I guess I had a bad dream. I called down to the front desk and a wonderful man named Dom spoke with me. At one point he said: “Yes, Alexis I know. I read it in your blog.” I do realize that all of this sounds unbelievable but it is all true,
I do cry sometimes. The other day in the restaurant (superb) a song was playing that I had not heard in eons. The song was “Smile (though your heart is breaking)” I began to cry, not the controlled way some of you may have seen. But racking sobs. A wonderful waiter ran up to me, saying Ms. MicBride and put his arms around me. I was so touched. By the way, this was breakfast so liquor was not involved. 
The picture proves that what I speak is the truth. The concierge suggested that going to Canada Place were a great idea because the TED talks were there and their was a lot of activity. He summoned a car provided for guests. It has a Trump license plate and that is the car, me and the license plate. On the way back I asked directions of a man at an intersection. He was helpful, his accent sounded familiar and I asked him where he was from. “San Francisco” he said. I laughed. 

Number plate du jour

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