Be like a duck.*
Jan. 2nd, 2007 11:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bending_sickleCalm on the surface, but always paddling like the dickens underneath.*
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
literarylemming is totally the queen of manips. Although I'm still psyched that mayorst liked my banner. *squee* windout's opinion pending.
Innitially, I turned on the computer to try and walk myself through a few things by making a coherent post about it. Then I say Kathleen'd emailed and sent her the ugly version of the thought process. (Sorry, love.)
Yet I think I might be able to summarize the problem succinctly enough for LJ: "I's fucked."
Alright, alright. I'll explain.
I've sent applications to expensive universities in a country I don't quite care for, in order to do a PhD (which I don't want to do) in Ecology / COnservation (which doesn't rock my socks) which involves research (I don't want to do) and will result in my having a lab or academic job (which I want to avoid like the plague).
It's looking good, isn't it?
But wait! Is this a light I see before me? Consider the following. I like languages. I know quite a few and would totally dig learning another (just not Catalan, but that's a different story). I've always done better in verbal than maths. I watch dubbed films and simultaneously translate the dialogue back into the original language. I translate emails at my part-time job.
In short: translation.
That just might be it. The very thought of it doesn't fill me with revulsion, which is nice, and there's the very clear possibility of a job afterwards. Hell, a flexible job. One not soley dependent on government grants, for example.
So I'm going to look into that for my Europe applications.
It's either that or sheep-herding in Australia, folks, and Oz has been sorely tempting this past month.
* Michael Caine
literarylemming is totally the queen of manips. Although I'm still psyched that mayorst liked my banner. *squee* windout's opinion pending. Innitially, I turned on the computer to try and walk myself through a few things by making a coherent post about it. Then I say Kathleen'd emailed and sent her the ugly version of the thought process. (Sorry, love.)
Yet I think I might be able to summarize the problem succinctly enough for LJ: "I's fucked."
Alright, alright. I'll explain.
I've sent applications to expensive universities in a country I don't quite care for, in order to do a PhD (which I don't want to do) in Ecology / COnservation (which doesn't rock my socks) which involves research (I don't want to do) and will result in my having a lab or academic job (which I want to avoid like the plague).
It's looking good, isn't it?
But wait! Is this a light I see before me? Consider the following. I like languages. I know quite a few and would totally dig learning another (just not Catalan, but that's a different story). I've always done better in verbal than maths. I watch dubbed films and simultaneously translate the dialogue back into the original language. I translate emails at my part-time job.
In short: translation.
That just might be it. The very thought of it doesn't fill me with revulsion, which is nice, and there's the very clear possibility of a job afterwards. Hell, a flexible job. One not soley dependent on government grants, for example.
So I'm going to look into that for my Europe applications.
It's either that or sheep-herding in Australia, folks, and Oz has been sorely tempting this past month.
* Michael Caine
