Steal from the Future to Obsess in the Present

So, I'm an impossible keener and have been thinking about grad school today.

I'm not sure why, considering the fact that I'm not even half way through my undergraduate, but there you go. I've found a program and a place that I'm really interested in (Ava, this might thrill you): an MA in Religious Conflict from the University of Nottingham.

It's exactly why I want to to study religious studies, and seems great in terms of discussing policy while still staying true to a real religious studies perspective (and not being a disguised Poli Sci one). Also, it looks like this:


The main building from the Trent River.

I mean, frick. What's a girl to do? I can't help thinking this all looks pretty damn good, and I'm excited when I think about it, which hasn't happened to me when thinking about the future for a looooooong time. So far, so good...

There are some big scaries, though, like:

• The Boy
• The cost
• Robin Hood jokes
• The distance from Canada
• The distance from my family and friends
  

On the other side though:

• The Boy could come, and be my part-time workin' kept man
• Cheaper city to live in than London or Oxford, and 'brighter' than Cambridge
• Robin Hood!
• The distance from Canada!
• The distance from my family! ... No, I'm joking about that one, but I would be closer to my family in England, who are so wonderful, and plus, I love England beyond reason (Seriously. I've been there twice. I'm like the embarrassing 40 year-old who leaves his wife for the 20 year-old he met at a weekend-long conference and fucked once. I mean, c'mon.) Also, I'd be catching up with my beloved Ava, who will hopefully for her be over there by then. Hm.
  

Anyway, that's what I'm over thinking these days. Over thinking by at least a year, but what else is new?


Who I'm Judging Right Now: Pomegranates. They've been ruining various pieces of my clothing for the last week. And yet they are still so yummy and I keep eating them... What fruity sluts.

Oh, and I'm judging That Coughing and Sniffling Girl even more harshly now, as a pathological form of deflected self-loathing for my ongoing dry, overwhelming cough. I even had to be that Girl Who Flees The Class While Hacking Into Her Sleeve Because The Coughing Has Gone On Too Long... And Then Slams The Door. I fucking hate That Girl this week. What a bitch.