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Apr. 20th, 2005 10:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
danalwynI am now going to whine. After which I suspect that my fairly small friends-list will arrive to beat the crap out of me for being a spoiled brat. But I'm still going to whine, because that's the kind of person I am.
I am now convinced that God has a strange sense of humor. And probably doesn't like me very much.
The irony of this whole situation is sickening.
Consider this. There are probably several thousand students in the University of California alone who petition each year for the option of studying abroad in an exotic place like Europe. Many others stay at home because they simply can't afford to go if they get selected. I was never one of them; I certainly never wanted to go abroad for my education. I never even wanted to leave California. So God is sending me.
Well, not God-my advisor. Which is approximately the same thing.
Now this is not a bad thing. And actually I think, given the way our research is headed, that if he had chosen not to send me-or at least make the offer to send me-I would have been a bit insulted. And I admit that I am going to one of the best places in the world to do my job.
But the bottom of my stomach dropped away and found a new address when he told me, casually enough to make an onlooker believe that the information was inconsequential, that I would probably be spending three years of my life in Geneva. The whole thing dropped on me in the way that an anvil drops on a WB cartoon character, except that I didn't pop back to normal without a scratch. It feels odd to have someone just say to you, out of the blue, that they've just made up their mind about what you're going to be doing for the next four years of your life. Even if it's something you want to do there is something terribly disconcerting about it; like you've just become a passenger in your own life. You wake up one day with plans for your future and your life, and suddenly discover that you are about to take a three year detour through the heart of Europe. Without a roadmap.
Actually I'll probably be spending most of my time in France, since I hear that the housing is slightly cheaper on the French side of the border. This, however, does not make me noticeably happier.
For those of you who are interested (and want to figure out who I am-there aren't many of you out there), my research group is transferring to USCMS at CERN. That means that I, as a grad student, have to go where the research is. That actually sounds sort of fun, being with some of the world's smartest people all over again, except for a few minor problems:
1) France, and Geneva, are rumored to be filled with a great number of people who speak French. I do not speak French. Nor will I have time to learn before I go there. This could be problematic.
2) The politics at CERN in general, and the LHC in particular, are likely to be murderous. I just don't want to deal with it. The very thought makes me want to cringe and hide.
3) We'll be getting there right at the point where we discover that everything doesn't work. I don't know if I'm up to that. Seriously, I don't know. I think my advisor has an inflated opinion of my abilities.
4) I will be living on my fixed budget of slightly under 1,100 Euros a month. I hear that this does not stretch very far in Geneva and environs.
5) Socially it's going to be hard. It took me twenty years to put together a way to behave that worked in America. I don't have time to do that again in Europe. I don't know why but I never have found myself to be very adept in social situations. That means that I will probably spend three years hiding from people.
6) I won't have anyplace familiar to relax. I usually pass time by finding a large library or bookstore and reading books until my brain collapses. This will be difficult at CERN-especially because of problem number 1.
It's not the end of the world of course but it is disturbing me far more than I thought it would. It feels odd to be sent half a world away-almost on a whim. It's rather far away, and I'm just not comfortable with that.
Plus, from now on, when I complain about that stupidity of our European Collaborators, they'll be able to give me dirty looks. Well, good for them.
On the other hand, I won't go until next year. This all means that I can finally begin dating girls again in 2009. Excellent.
All right, I'm done whining. I'm going to run off and hide now.
I am now convinced that God has a strange sense of humor. And probably doesn't like me very much.
The irony of this whole situation is sickening.
Consider this. There are probably several thousand students in the University of California alone who petition each year for the option of studying abroad in an exotic place like Europe. Many others stay at home because they simply can't afford to go if they get selected. I was never one of them; I certainly never wanted to go abroad for my education. I never even wanted to leave California. So God is sending me.
Well, not God-my advisor. Which is approximately the same thing.
Now this is not a bad thing. And actually I think, given the way our research is headed, that if he had chosen not to send me-or at least make the offer to send me-I would have been a bit insulted. And I admit that I am going to one of the best places in the world to do my job.
But the bottom of my stomach dropped away and found a new address when he told me, casually enough to make an onlooker believe that the information was inconsequential, that I would probably be spending three years of my life in Geneva. The whole thing dropped on me in the way that an anvil drops on a WB cartoon character, except that I didn't pop back to normal without a scratch. It feels odd to have someone just say to you, out of the blue, that they've just made up their mind about what you're going to be doing for the next four years of your life. Even if it's something you want to do there is something terribly disconcerting about it; like you've just become a passenger in your own life. You wake up one day with plans for your future and your life, and suddenly discover that you are about to take a three year detour through the heart of Europe. Without a roadmap.
Actually I'll probably be spending most of my time in France, since I hear that the housing is slightly cheaper on the French side of the border. This, however, does not make me noticeably happier.
For those of you who are interested (and want to figure out who I am-there aren't many of you out there), my research group is transferring to USCMS at CERN. That means that I, as a grad student, have to go where the research is. That actually sounds sort of fun, being with some of the world's smartest people all over again, except for a few minor problems:
1) France, and Geneva, are rumored to be filled with a great number of people who speak French. I do not speak French. Nor will I have time to learn before I go there. This could be problematic.
2) The politics at CERN in general, and the LHC in particular, are likely to be murderous. I just don't want to deal with it. The very thought makes me want to cringe and hide.
3) We'll be getting there right at the point where we discover that everything doesn't work. I don't know if I'm up to that. Seriously, I don't know. I think my advisor has an inflated opinion of my abilities.
4) I will be living on my fixed budget of slightly under 1,100 Euros a month. I hear that this does not stretch very far in Geneva and environs.
5) Socially it's going to be hard. It took me twenty years to put together a way to behave that worked in America. I don't have time to do that again in Europe. I don't know why but I never have found myself to be very adept in social situations. That means that I will probably spend three years hiding from people.
6) I won't have anyplace familiar to relax. I usually pass time by finding a large library or bookstore and reading books until my brain collapses. This will be difficult at CERN-especially because of problem number 1.
It's not the end of the world of course but it is disturbing me far more than I thought it would. It feels odd to be sent half a world away-almost on a whim. It's rather far away, and I'm just not comfortable with that.
Plus, from now on, when I complain about that stupidity of our European Collaborators, they'll be able to give me dirty looks. Well, good for them.
On the other hand, I won't go until next year. This all means that I can finally begin dating girls again in 2009. Excellent.
All right, I'm done whining. I'm going to run off and hide now.