Dead to Me: My Job
Yeah, and here's another news flash; I like booze!
For anyone who's spent time with me in the last four months, you know that I find my job lameage to the max. —Basically I spend the day trying to solve problems; annoying, pointless problems; problems that wouldn't even exist if other people did their jobs properly in the first place. Terribly and intensely unsatisfying!
It's bland and suburban like a Wonderbread sandwich, and somewhat rather less exciting.
That is why I'm so enthusiastic about my Get-Me-the-Hell-Out-of-Here plan. While I am super-happy and lucky to know so my totally awesome people in Toronto, if I stay in this job I might as well move to Pickering right now and smother myself with oppressive mediocrity and minivans.
So, it looks like all signs point to going back to school, and those signs say "Paris." I'm in the middle of the application process for this translation school that's attached to the Sorbonne. School in France is *so* cheap, I'd be stupid to even consider going to school in Canada — about 4500$ dollars stupid since tuition in France is only about 500€ a year! Even though I'm a foreign student! And I get free national health-care! And I get a government stipend for a part of my rent! Crazy. Why doesn't everyone go to school in France?! So crazy; when I was talking to the girl who works in the education section of the French consulate, I couldn't even believe all the stuff she was telling me. So crazy cheap! It's a two year programme which gives me a masters in translation in the end, which is basically a ticket to ride, since pretty much every company in Canada needs translators.
I will have to go to Paris to write the entrance exam in April (since I missed the deadline for writing the overseas exam by a day!). Not tooo bad, Paris in springtime and all, but it's paying for the airfare that's the sticky wicket. The exams are the week before Easter, which is more expensive to fly than any other week in the spring. Boo-urns.
If I'd had any sense, I'd have stayed in Nihon, saved some yen and gone directly to Paris from there (and of course by 'sense' I mean 'ability to predict the future'). Well, I'm sure a week with hot, dirty French pédés will be good for my, uh, linguistic skills.
Now, I don't doubt that when I get accepted, my couch will become a flophouse for all my itinerant and wayward friends in search of Eurotrip hijinx, so I'll put the invite out there in preemptive anticipation; "My fromagey-mimey apartment is your fromagey-mimey apartment."
Gay Paree, here I come!
For anyone who's spent time with me in the last four months, you know that I find my job lameage to the max. —Basically I spend the day trying to solve problems; annoying, pointless problems; problems that wouldn't even exist if other people did their jobs properly in the first place. Terribly and intensely unsatisfying!
It's bland and suburban like a Wonderbread sandwich, and somewhat rather less exciting.
That is why I'm so enthusiastic about my Get-Me-the-Hell-Out-of-Here plan. While I am super-happy and lucky to know so my totally awesome people in Toronto, if I stay in this job I might as well move to Pickering right now and smother myself with oppressive mediocrity and minivans.
So, it looks like all signs point to going back to school, and those signs say "Paris." I'm in the middle of the application process for this translation school that's attached to the Sorbonne. School in France is *so* cheap, I'd be stupid to even consider going to school in Canada — about 4500$ dollars stupid since tuition in France is only about 500€ a year! Even though I'm a foreign student! And I get free national health-care! And I get a government stipend for a part of my rent! Crazy. Why doesn't everyone go to school in France?! So crazy; when I was talking to the girl who works in the education section of the French consulate, I couldn't even believe all the stuff she was telling me. So crazy cheap! It's a two year programme which gives me a masters in translation in the end, which is basically a ticket to ride, since pretty much every company in Canada needs translators.
I will have to go to Paris to write the entrance exam in April (since I missed the deadline for writing the overseas exam by a day!). Not tooo bad, Paris in springtime and all, but it's paying for the airfare that's the sticky wicket. The exams are the week before Easter, which is more expensive to fly than any other week in the spring. Boo-urns.
If I'd had any sense, I'd have stayed in Nihon, saved some yen and gone directly to Paris from there (and of course by 'sense' I mean 'ability to predict the future'). Well, I'm sure a week with hot, dirty French pédés will be good for my, uh, linguistic skills.
Now, I don't doubt that when I get accepted, my couch will become a flophouse for all my itinerant and wayward friends in search of Eurotrip hijinx, so I'll put the invite out there in preemptive anticipation; "My fromagey-mimey apartment is your fromagey-mimey apartment."
Gay Paree, here I come!
8 comments:
I call dibs on the fromagey-mimey couch!
Why don't you fly to London and stay with Sly for a week then go overland to Paris? Or something. Or fly into another city? Or stay outside of the city for a week where it's cheaper?
I also saw a job in NYC looking for an Asian specialist to do gay rights work. International League of Homos, or something, and they want somebody who speaks a language. Drop me a line and I can send you the listing if staying in North America can compete (although I'd much rather have you in the fromagey-mimey place to stay in Paris)
Well Jenni, you have some excellent ideas, and now that my dad has agreed to foot the bill with his aeroplan points and i don't have to worry about £$€, i'm going to do exactly that.
I'm planning on flying into London, rockin' out with Sly and BranTom for the weekend then hopping on the Eurostar over to Paris, writing my exams over the course of the week, then flying back to T.O. from there.
Should be awesome!
You'll have to tell me where the Togolese restaurant is so that I can get in some jollof rice and brochettes. yum!
Mer-
I love the International League of Homos! They're my favourite.
I'm all over that job like Margaret Trudeau on a Rolling Stone!
maybe i need to come with you to paris, to supervise your exam-writing.
As seen on television
www.queen.fr
Sly, he's writing exams!
You are the opposite of an appropriate chaperone! Leave him alone and let him get plenty of sleep so he'll be in top form.
You're too much fun sometimes!
You can visit him in Paris after he gets in and has a fromagey place there.
Although... if you want to go and squat in his hotel room and ignore him and go shoe shopping, then that's a whole different story.
sly-
i think that's the best idea ever! while jenni is right and i do have to buckle down somewhat, there's only so much studying a boy can do in a day...
let's get on it!
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