Chief Concierge (hereafter C.C), gave me the day off yesterday. He told me blogging was not necessary on a daily basis and then (it will be revealed) rewarded me. It might just undermine my entire work ethic, we shall see. His job description is evolving as will be revealed in tomorrow’s post.
At this moment i lead an excessively public life. Living in a hotel where all of the staff know me and then constantly meeting people and indulging in long, rambling conversations. The night before last I awoke in the middle of the night starving so I called room service. It efficiently arrived accompanied by a wonderful young woman by the name of Kaileen. She looked at me with a look that resembled adoration and said: “I read your blogs.” My response? I walked into the bathroom and cried, more like howled. It am sure that this was not the response she expected. I did stop crying and told her how incredibly touched I was. Emotions are running high these days for two reasons: 1). Chris sent me news of my statistics, the incredible popularity of the blog, and 2) A wonderful man emailed: “You are always on my thought waves.” I cannot imagine a more romantic seven words, i feel enveloped in caring. It is actually rather scary.
But I did wake up yesterday feeling very depressed. My mood lifted as the day progressed, fortunately. I became obsessed with this concept. “What is the meaning of life?” My notes contain the question and this answer: There is no meaning. When I was in California about three weeks ago I rather rashly asked a bartender how he found meaning in life. He told me that in the main, almost all of the time, he did not think about it. That may be the best approach. But then yesterday an insight from another. The meaning of life changes at different times and stages in one’s life. Or, I venture, should change if one is to become a fully functioning individual. Writing the biography of my uncle has been providing me with meaning in life.but I seem to be moving away from that. Perhaps now is not the time. My cousins have given me permission to postpone, I shall see.
But into everyone’s life the rain must fall, particularly if you live in Vancouver.(Joke) Rain arrived yesterday morning, via the internet, from City,University of London informing me that the Disciplinary Hearing will be held on May 18, 2017, and demanding that I inform them whether or not I will be attending. Please see posts of April 22, 2017 and April 28, 2017. My post of April 28th clearly told them that I would not be there and the reasons why. I had referred them to my blog in a prior communication. But I did politely respond and said: “S. I question why in the world they are doing this and what they expect to achieve? it is a profound waste of time. They should be trying to improve their school I harbor no ill will at the present time. How could I? I write from the 19th floor of the Trump International in Vancouver and just got word that since my blog began on January 22, 2017 that I have had 8.147 visitors and 36,290 visits. That never would have happened if I had not gone to London and lived for two and a half years. How did I get to do that. Because I had a student visa from CUL. Alexis McBride.”
But then another email arrived from another individual from the school. This was its demand.
“This blog has come to our attention, as you refer to members of City, University of London staff by name. I write now to request that you immediately remove the names of all City staff in those posts already published, and refrain from publishing the names of City staff in all future blog posts.”
C.C. made the following observation. “You are like a kinder surprise egg.- soft and nice on the outside and a surprise on the inside. But the surprise could be the nice and easy Alexis or the tough no nonsense Ms. McBride.” I do wonder which one CUL will get? Mismanagement runs rampant at the school. I dropped out, they send me an invitation to graduation (February 24, 2017 blog) and then announce they are going to hold a disciplinary hearing in London. They have no jurisdiction over me but continue to harass me. Then tell me to remove names and references in my blog. Why would I do that? But then I came to this marvelous conclusion and rushed downstairs to tell C.C. Those are my blog numbers: 8,147 visitors, 36,290 visits. That is success. They should be hiring me to teach blog writing or bragging about my attendance at the school on their web site. I have enormous readership writing nonfiction. The program is billed creative nonfiction. Am I missing something here?
But onward to pleasantries. I am extremely heartened by the French election for any reasons. Here is a reason not shared by most. Macron’s wife is 24 years older than he is. She was his high school teacher. I am totally smitten by a man who is 23 years younger than I am. I did suggest to that man that if a French president could make such a commitment, perhaps he could too. I ended the email:’ In case you have not noticed I am making a pass at you (yet again)”
But the night was still young. Nichole, the concierge, hinted that there was a surprise in my room. I went up to my room and there were flowers. Yes indeed flowers from C.C, I am so incredibly happy. I NEVER got flowers from any of the husbands/lovers in my life. There was a note: “Hoping you will enjoy these and it encourages you today.” How incredibly precious is that. In Lynne’s words: “Is there anything that the staff at Trump International will not do for you?” Apparently not. That is me with the flowers. All of this is nonfiction as you can see.
