A New, Fabulous Potential Idea of Last Resort...?

Where were we? Oh yes. Plotting. Or rather, staring - disjointedly - out the window of the Banff Springs, frustrated at the Friday morning email which carried the disappointing news, so out of tune it was with the prior evening merriment in the company of St. James and the random Man in Black. But the world spins forward, and the Guinness at the Ship did soothe the soul even as they weren't exactly ingested in celebration. But a grand weekend to set the markers down all the same, and stir up questions that led no doubt to the Metro Centre Box, Crown-fueled insanity of the Seahorse and sloppy dancing at places you probably do not need to return to anytime soon. Despite the thoughts of returning to the goodlife routine, there was that innate need to seek some outlets to the haunting uncertainties, and so it was taken. No apologies required.

And hence the flyer of a package off to Strathclyde and the desperate late-night, last-minute plea of a proposal to the Danes to add to the Leiden missive of April Fool's. More proverbial crap thrown out along so seemingly haphazard lines into the unknown, awaiting some form of acknowledgment.

Yet those waiting games are long, and results may never get as good in the short-term as that Skype chance with Northern Holland at that. All of which wouldn't be so bad, except for the fear of arriving into the summer and not having any further sense of the how and wherefore of the ultimate escape.

Randomly, as always, I think now we may have just found in these Passover nights before Easter the hint of an idea for a last resort by which much might get tied together... and which depend on nothing but your resolve. It snowballed quickly from the review of the Aarhus packages and the thought of complicating the taxes by a mid- to late-year start, leading to the simpler thought of a position starting early 2012, and how that would both allow for the final curtain call of a hearing and time following it that could be spent productively (personally and professionally) back out on the glorious road, winding as it must through COP-17 and Durban, South Africa...

Once the openings there on hostelworld were found, off the dreams went, and the google searches for ways to sneak inside a delegation to justify the attendance in full, right to the absolutely perfect discovery of the obvious via the already-existing Dal connections. The circle, of a sudden, complete and staring back at you from the screen.

It is, after all, usually that final unexpectedly perfect piece that clinches it, when it falls into place. Because this way you can stick around for hearings through the end of October and then can take your leave graciously, first stop London - the first and necessary departure point. There, a return to the customary seat for the Arsenal and Gooners pub, hopefully Sheen as Hamlet, and then the long flight down, with no plan from there other than some reference letters in hand, visions of the snow on Kilimanjaro over Christmas and the Cape of Good Hope, and time...

I like this the best (he smiles). Just need accommodations in September and October and then... vamos. Tell me where this falls apart. Granted it is after midnight, but I do not see it. 6 months to wait. Money to be saved, of course, and if applications sort themselves out, all the better. But surely this is how to live, and what you need to sustain you through to 32. Oh Kili, Kili, Kili. Can mom forgive me if I miss the first ever Christmas eve for ye?

Looking forward to bouncing this one around the walls of the Parque-Central in a few weeks. You fucking know it.

UPDATE - emails sent and received to the good Professor, and a time set for late June when such plans can be discussed in more detail. There may yet lie some uncertainty in attaining formal observer status, but you have to think that a way in must be found in any case. Make it so.