The University of British Columbia got back to me today by e-mail - "They regret me to inform me...."
Yeah, I got rejected. I know I can write on my own. I know I don't need a Master's Degree to write wonderful novels. But, well, I really was keen on the idea of learning how to edit magazines and write a novel as a thesis. Really, though, I was keener on the idea of postponing real life for another two years. For two years, I wouldn't have to worry about getting a job that would stick. I wouldn't have to worry about moving out, or doing my own taxes, or worrying about medical insurance.
Now I have to worry about all that. In my fantasy mind, in those two years I would finish my novel and become crazy wealthy and never have to get a real job again. I know in my head that would never happen, but it's easier to face the future when it's two years away than when it ends in March.
I just really wish I'd gotten in. I feel lousy - I keep wondering about all the things I must have done wrong with my application - should I have given them three samples instead of my two best? Should I have gone over my online application to look more carefully for mistakes? I really don't know.
Vancouver, I'm sure, is a lovely city and British Columbia is a lovely province, but for now, for today, they can suck it.