Oh absentmindedness
Oh HI
I keep forgetting about this damn site, and then I had to try about twelve passwords to log in... okay, maybe four. Um so, I'm at work, at the university library, sweetest gig ever. I literally watched a movie yesterday and took an hour break from my 8-hour shift. The movie was really good (Heaven with Cate Blanchett and Giovanni Ribisi). It helped me to realize that I've really got a thing for Giovanni Ribisi... It didn't hurt that he spoke either in Italian or with an Italian accent for the entire film.
So ummmm I'm just going to dive right into my shit. That was an odd way of phrasing that. Crude? Moi? Nooooo.
HOW THE FUCK are we supposed to know what we will want in 8 years now?? Because that's about how long it would be until I finished graduate school, and I need to start looking for programs and people to work with and labs to get my name in. And that involves not only being sure I want to go to grad school, but also being sure of what god damn program I want to be in, which will most likely determine the rest of my career if I become a professor, which is the plan right now, but I have NO idea if I'll want that in 8 years. OH and then if I DO become a professor, it's at least another 6 years (assuming I get a job at the university I want right away) for me to establish myself and get to comfortably "settle down."
The fact that the phrase "settle down" makes me seriously consider vomiting probably tells me that I do not particularly like the notion of doing it. So why the HELL would I want to end up there?!
Don't get me wrong, I love learning, and I love sharing what I learn with other people- I'm a HUGE nerd who gets all geeked out about most things educational and interesting, which can pretty much be anything. But sometimes I just want to go back to Morocco (by the way, update: I went to Morocco) and just live there for a while, then travel around to other parts of Africa. You know what'd be sweet? Getting a little plane (learning to fly it) and flying around Africa. Minus the whole rebels in half of the countries might try to shoot me down, we're ignoring that, no dream-crushing please.
I want to go back to Morocco SOOOO badly. Then again, the whole really conservative culture thing would probably get to me after any more than ten days (that's how long I was there). But I loved the people there, and it was so damn cool. And that Berber lady scrubbed me cleaner than I have ever been in my life in that Hamam. Too much? What about if I told you that at various points in my public bath house experience, she had one hand over my nip while scrubbing the skin off of the rest of my abdomen and chest (including my other nip, fucking painful), my foot was in between her leg and her saggy boob as she scrubbed up and down my leg and get real friendly bumping into my panties, AND since I was one of the lucky girls wearing a thong that day, my ass got scrubbed too.
It. Was. Awesome. I have NEVER been so clean, ever.
It's so weird how conservative we consider them, but then in that bath house, the American girls (with the exception of a couple of us) were reallyyyy uncomfortable and giggly and by the end of it only pretending not to feel violated.
I need to read more. I used to read so much when I was little, like four books a week. Then again, shit was shorter and easier to read then. Everyone starts talking about all of these authors that I definitely know of or even a little bit about. But I just don't have the time or the focus really. And I'm rereading HP and the Half-Blood Prince right now, and that obviously takes precedence. Is that how you spell that?
I'm sick of writing. K bye!
I keep forgetting about this damn site, and then I had to try about twelve passwords to log in... okay, maybe four. Um so, I'm at work, at the university library, sweetest gig ever. I literally watched a movie yesterday and took an hour break from my 8-hour shift. The movie was really good (Heaven with Cate Blanchett and Giovanni Ribisi). It helped me to realize that I've really got a thing for Giovanni Ribisi... It didn't hurt that he spoke either in Italian or with an Italian accent for the entire film.
So ummmm I'm just going to dive right into my shit. That was an odd way of phrasing that. Crude? Moi? Nooooo.
HOW THE FUCK are we supposed to know what we will want in 8 years now?? Because that's about how long it would be until I finished graduate school, and I need to start looking for programs and people to work with and labs to get my name in. And that involves not only being sure I want to go to grad school, but also being sure of what god damn program I want to be in, which will most likely determine the rest of my career if I become a professor, which is the plan right now, but I have NO idea if I'll want that in 8 years. OH and then if I DO become a professor, it's at least another 6 years (assuming I get a job at the university I want right away) for me to establish myself and get to comfortably "settle down."
The fact that the phrase "settle down" makes me seriously consider vomiting probably tells me that I do not particularly like the notion of doing it. So why the HELL would I want to end up there?!
Don't get me wrong, I love learning, and I love sharing what I learn with other people- I'm a HUGE nerd who gets all geeked out about most things educational and interesting, which can pretty much be anything. But sometimes I just want to go back to Morocco (by the way, update: I went to Morocco) and just live there for a while, then travel around to other parts of Africa. You know what'd be sweet? Getting a little plane (learning to fly it) and flying around Africa. Minus the whole rebels in half of the countries might try to shoot me down, we're ignoring that, no dream-crushing please.
I want to go back to Morocco SOOOO badly. Then again, the whole really conservative culture thing would probably get to me after any more than ten days (that's how long I was there). But I loved the people there, and it was so damn cool. And that Berber lady scrubbed me cleaner than I have ever been in my life in that Hamam. Too much? What about if I told you that at various points in my public bath house experience, she had one hand over my nip while scrubbing the skin off of the rest of my abdomen and chest (including my other nip, fucking painful), my foot was in between her leg and her saggy boob as she scrubbed up and down my leg and get real friendly bumping into my panties, AND since I was one of the lucky girls wearing a thong that day, my ass got scrubbed too.
It. Was. Awesome. I have NEVER been so clean, ever.
It's so weird how conservative we consider them, but then in that bath house, the American girls (with the exception of a couple of us) were reallyyyy uncomfortable and giggly and by the end of it only pretending not to feel violated.
I need to read more. I used to read so much when I was little, like four books a week. Then again, shit was shorter and easier to read then. Everyone starts talking about all of these authors that I definitely know of or even a little bit about. But I just don't have the time or the focus really. And I'm rereading HP and the Half-Blood Prince right now, and that obviously takes precedence. Is that how you spell that?
I'm sick of writing. K bye!