Haha. I’m an idiot.
I wrote to the new VC asking if she’d be able to provide me a reference for that Thing I’m applying for. I got a very official, impersonal response which said because she officially had nothing to do with me, she couldn’t. Which is fair, I suppose. But surely she knows me? Maybe not. But regardless, it’s even more fair considering that they probably all know how much I hate the way they do things there.
Beeton told me not to worry about what I’ve said about the Uni on this blog because it’s all very rational. I pointed out that they’re Catholics — they don’t do rational.
But as she noted, oh, they do guilt so well!
I have one up on guilt though: spite.
Revenge is a dish best served cold, as we know, and when I am famous and fabulous, I am totally telling their PR people they cannot put me in their glossy advertisement books (aka ‘prospectus’). I will say something along the lines of what Edward Gibbon, English historian, politician and memoirist said in Memoirs of My Life and Writing (1796):
To the University of Oxford I acknowledge no obligation; and she will cheerfully renounce me as a son, as I am willing to disclaim her for a mother.
Not that I have anything against Oxford; my uncle went there and stuff.
As Aristotle said, “the roots of education are bitter, but the fruit is sweet” (Diogenes Laetius, Lives of Philosophers, cited in The Times Book of Quotations, 2000, 219), so as shit as it was there, I am grateful of what I got out of it.
Like this lesson: next time you want to blog about something being shit, make sure you get everything you need out of it first, then blog about how shit they are.
See you when I’m someone fabulous, bitches!