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Nov. 8th, 2009 08:48 pmThe school offers a dual JD/MA in marine sciences. I'm seriously considering going for it. It's a lot of hard work, and most people who take it don't graduate in 3 years, but 3.5-4 because of the extra workload. But the people who go through it tend to get really awesome jobs. Several of them work for NOAA right now. RSMAS is one of the best marine science schools in the country.
A few days ago, I did the internet equivalent of flopping across the bed and waxing rhapsodic about my life to my buddy Maryann. "I don't know," bemoaned I, "should I go for this? What if I want to go with IP instead? I mean, I am all RAR INTERNET FREEDOM CRUSADER a lot of the time. Maybe IP is what I should be doing. I don't want to do all that work and then come out of it in an entirely different field."
"Well," she said, bastion of rationality that she is, "what do you see yourself doing at 40?"
I don't know. Either, I guess.
I went down to the beach like I usually do, when the tide was high and the wind blowing so fiercely that if I stopped pedaling it could push me down the path past the breakers. I parked my bike next to a palm tree while sandpipers looked on curiously, and sat down on the rocks.
Waves splashed over the barriers and the wind pushed the water in the atoll so high it swallowed up the beach, reaching up toward the walkway. Seaweed covered the rocks and whole flocks of sandpipers, plovers, gulls, and grackles picked through it all while cormorants skimmed over waters rougher than I had ever seen without a hurricane ready to make landfall. I'd miss this, when I moved into my apartment. I'd miss the whole bike ride, through the mangroves, and seeing the way it looked as the tides come in and out. I'd miss spotting night herons and little crabs menacing me as I passed by.
...Oh. That makes sense, then.
A few days ago, I did the internet equivalent of flopping across the bed and waxing rhapsodic about my life to my buddy Maryann. "I don't know," bemoaned I, "should I go for this? What if I want to go with IP instead? I mean, I am all RAR INTERNET FREEDOM CRUSADER a lot of the time. Maybe IP is what I should be doing. I don't want to do all that work and then come out of it in an entirely different field."
"Well," she said, bastion of rationality that she is, "what do you see yourself doing at 40?"
I don't know. Either, I guess.
I went down to the beach like I usually do, when the tide was high and the wind blowing so fiercely that if I stopped pedaling it could push me down the path past the breakers. I parked my bike next to a palm tree while sandpipers looked on curiously, and sat down on the rocks.
Waves splashed over the barriers and the wind pushed the water in the atoll so high it swallowed up the beach, reaching up toward the walkway. Seaweed covered the rocks and whole flocks of sandpipers, plovers, gulls, and grackles picked through it all while cormorants skimmed over waters rougher than I had ever seen without a hurricane ready to make landfall. I'd miss this, when I moved into my apartment. I'd miss the whole bike ride, through the mangroves, and seeing the way it looked as the tides come in and out. I'd miss spotting night herons and little crabs menacing me as I passed by.
...Oh. That makes sense, then.
