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In a pipe-dream, it-has-nothing-to-do-with-my-chosen-career-path, I-would-never-survive-it sort of way?
DO FUCKING WANT.
Of course, this is true of approximately 75% of all Arts & Humanities postgrad degrees everywhere - in all particulars. Sometimes, I think about what it might be like to be one of those types who loves stuff and learning new things and trivia and knowledge (which I am), AND academia (which I am NOT, OH GOD KILL ME NOW). And it's not even that I hate academia as a concept. In fact, I adore academia as a concept. But I am literally the least-suited person for it in the history of ever; even the idea of having to do things like PUBLISH and TEACH and NETWORK kind of makes me want to throw myself in front of a bus - not to mention the homicidal urges I get whilst reading most A&H academic writing.1 And temperamentally, I am essentially like that 'Boom De Yada' song. You know. Yeah. That one. It's not that I lose interest in things, per se. It's just that everything is interesting. Everything.
1I say this as though I don't have a shameful addiction to footnotes and didn't succumb fifty million times to making unsubtly-veiled bitchy comments about the work of certain academics in my undergrad thesis. Shoujo Hypocrite Sophie, GO!!!
In other, exponentially shallower news, I just braved the depths of the living-room cupboards and rediscovered my copy of Sleepy Hollow. Newsflash: Tim Burton remains hilarious and weird and with an attractive sense of aesthetics; Johnny Depp simply remains hilarious and weird and attractive. Relatedly, in more obscure and circuitous ways than one, I want to go see Inkheart again. Bad Sophie. Bad. You can buy shirtless Paul Bettany when he comes out on DVD.
DO FUCKING WANT.
Of course, this is true of approximately 75% of all Arts & Humanities postgrad degrees everywhere - in all particulars. Sometimes, I think about what it might be like to be one of those types who loves stuff and learning new things and trivia and knowledge (which I am), AND academia (which I am NOT, OH GOD KILL ME NOW). And it's not even that I hate academia as a concept. In fact, I adore academia as a concept. But I am literally the least-suited person for it in the history of ever; even the idea of having to do things like PUBLISH and TEACH and NETWORK kind of makes me want to throw myself in front of a bus - not to mention the homicidal urges I get whilst reading most A&H academic writing.1 And temperamentally, I am essentially like that 'Boom De Yada' song. You know. Yeah. That one. It's not that I lose interest in things, per se. It's just that everything is interesting. Everything.
1I say this as though I don't have a shameful addiction to footnotes and didn't succumb fifty million times to making unsubtly-veiled bitchy comments about the work of certain academics in my undergrad thesis. Shoujo Hypocrite Sophie, GO!!!
In other, exponentially shallower news, I just braved the depths of the living-room cupboards and rediscovered my copy of Sleepy Hollow. Newsflash: Tim Burton remains hilarious and weird and with an attractive sense of aesthetics; Johnny Depp simply remains hilarious and weird and attractive. Relatedly, in more obscure and circuitous ways than one, I want to go see Inkheart again. Bad Sophie. Bad. You can buy shirtless Paul Bettany when he comes out on DVD.
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(Although! FYI, I'm pretty sure Inkheart isn't actually released in the US until the 19th of January. I know this from my learnings, and also from certain sections of my flist who are as impatient to see it as I was. Ahem.)
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Yay Sleepy Hollow :]