i try very hard not to make plans for my future anymore, seeing as how i've gotten it wrong almost every time i've made them, but there's this one plan that sprouted when i got here and it's been growing since then in little spurts and pangs. today was a spurt day.
anyway, lancaster has a year-long masters program in psychology. and i thought i would never want to go straight into masters from undergrad, but it's england. and i could get a visa, and therefore a job (and thus make twice the money, with the exchange rate) and get my masters and live in england for a year. and take ballroom dancing lessons. and hike. and be around people with british accents who use words so much more dramatically than we do in the states. for example, at the poster sale in alexandra square:
ask sales assistant for a pristine copy of this poster
pristine.
no one says pristine. but it's so expressive, isn't it? so much better than just saying "new" or "wrapped."
back to my plan: when i got back to the states, not only would i have double the money, i would have a masters degree with which i could actually get a real job. not my ideal real job, but a real job nonetheless.
and i would already know my way around the university here and i would have an entire year to explore europe (hello, christmas holiday) and it would be amazing.
bothersome plan, isn't it? or hope, or dream, depending on how you look at it. i suppose it's more accurate to call it a dream.
we'll stick it to the felt board, anyway. i feel like these days my life is perpetually stuck in the brainstorming phase.
i think i like it that way.
i've got to pack for coniston . . .
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