London, and the curious tale of a Mr. Dorian Gray

A fortnight ago I had the great privilege to go to London for the 'Open House' event, when 700 or so usually private buildings are thrown open to the public for one weekend only.
And I had a great time. We went to the Tate Modern on Friday evening to have a look at the Futurist exhibition, where I bought a copy of a folio of Futurist manifestos. I always think one appreciates art more when one knows the rationale behind it.
On Saturday we necessarily had a hectic afternon, going both to Richard Rogers' Lloyd's Building and Norman Foster's City Hall. Then onward to the New London Theatre for a performance of Warhorse.
Sunday was a little more relaxed. We had a pleasant stroll through the parks (Hyde Park, St James' Park and Green Park) to Whitehall and the Foreign Office.
And then last week I and some absolutely wonderful friends went to see Dorian Gray, for which I shall simply say this: it is an epic piece of art.

In which prospects finally improve for our protagonist.

My dear readers! Behold, for after a long recess I return and beg leave to inform you of events.

I believe the last missive I posted for your perusal involved my being turned down for a postgraduate course. I cn now tell you that I applied to three more universities, attended three interviews and succeeded in getting nowhere. So, for a year at least, I shall be becalmed still. Or at least, my studies shall. More disquieting for me is the notioon of spending another year sharing a bedroom with a brother- who mistakes hospitality for subjugation and thinks it entirely appropriate to allow his girlfriend into the room for hours upon hours at a time, thus keeping me out of my own room...

I also believe I brought tidings of a temporary position at an architect's practice and that they had kindly allowed me to work on my portfolio at that time. They've now offered me a full-time position as an architectural assistant. So I can now accumulate the prerequisite experience needed for a successful postgraduate application next year, which is absolutely outstanding news.

Next week I've been invited to spend the weekend at my boss' London house, which is going to be an interesting experience, as I've only been to London once before and that was... quite some time ago. Nearly, or actually, rather over, ten years ago, now that I think about it.

But that is a tale for a future date...

So unspeakably outraged

Well, I heard back from the University soem two weeks ago. And the prognosis is... not good. After five months of dilly-dallying and four months after telling me I was guaranteed a place as I had graduated from the same institution, they turned around and told me 'no'.

So the past fortnight has been spent in a whirlwind of applying to other universities. Two applications have gone in, but they had to wait for the blaggards of Lincoln to return my references. Which, to be fair, they did with a surprising alacrity (the last time they moved so fast was when they thought I owed them money).

The past fortnight I have also spent working on my portfolio, my employers having been kind enough to allow me time to work on that at the expense of work I'm supposed to be doing for them. My portfolio now is looking really slick and far beyond anything I had credited myself as being capable of.

Of course, this set back means now that the Lincoln steampunk weekend in September is out of the question, which is a great shame. But conversely if I get in Birmingham City University I actually see myself going to more steampunk meets- many of us live around there!

Tally-ho!

I think that the downturn in my fortunes is now on the wane. Yesterday I had to make a sojourn into Lincoln for an interview concerning my postgraduate studies, the outcome of which was that the tutors would be more than happy for me to attend the course but that as they don't know how many students they can accommodate they can't tell me if I have a place or not until the end of the month.

This morning I had an aethermail from my old boss saying that his workload had picked up and that he was a little short-staffed and would I be interested in some temporary work? Naturally I jumped at the chance and start on Monday.

Something Completely Unexpected...

Yesterday I had a welcome little surprise. Well, I say welcome, it could prove something of a double-edged sword. I was invited to an interview for my post graduate application early next month.

Considering that I did my undergraduate at the same university I think I have a fairly good chance of getting in, but as we all know we've been here (or somewhere very like it) last summer, and we all know exactly how that turned out.

As it stands right now though, I'm just pleased to see that my application has progressed to this stage. I have a good track record of university interviews at any rate- I've done two or three and was offered a place at each. Admittedly that was nearly four years ago though.

So given a little over a fortnight and I'll either be high as a kite or else thoroughly dejected. I'm hoping for the former rather than the latter.

Quiet times and a delightful picnic

Salutations, dear reader.

Once again I note with dismay my less-than-regular writings here, for which I can only give the reason that my life is quite akin to war on board a submarine- times of frenetic action interspersed by long periods of boredom and inactivity.

Hence for the past month I have only one event really worth recording, and that took place only last weekend.

I am referring of course to the Steampunk picnic at the Birmingham Botanical Gardens, which was a wonderful affair and thoroughly enjoyed by the 15 or so members of Brass Goggles who attended.

We had an entirely enjoyable time sitting on the green listening to the band play, and later perambulating through the grounds before repairing to a pub in the city centre.

So that was one Sunday well spent in delightful company with good weather and a happy atmosphere.

The thing now of course is that with last weekend gone, the only newsworthy event in my life in the near future will be my trip to Royal Ascot. Which doesn't take place until mid-June. I hope I have some excitement and activity in my life long before then.

Until next time, dear reader, I bid you adieu.

Going up a gear

Right-o, it's been almost a month without any noise from my general direction, though that was unintended, and for once I have news.

Namely that I now have a Saturday job that gets at least a little cash in for me. Pretty much all of which will be going straight into my bank account to build up a good head of finanical steam for University, if and when I ever get in.

I do have a list of things to buy- a new coat, which is now paid for, White Tie evening wear, or about 5 weeks wages (!), a ticket for a Steampunk event which I can't go to unless I get into University and another model railway locomotive all figure pretty highly on it. Oh, and money for accommodation and living expenses at Uni also rank on it. Somewhere. Probably near the bottom. Anyway, I digress.

So that pretty much is all I had it in mind to tell you- that I have a job and some income at long last and that my weekly income has therefore increased five-fold, which is not even 1% as impressive as it sounds. It's not like I'm a banker or something. Or that I've ripped the country off to the tune of millions.