Paris has the unwavering effect of being a place in which I fully realize the profoundly altering moments I seem to experience periodically, be they by chance or simply because there is something about this city that encourages such things to happen. This time is no different, and so it is that I find myself acceding to an unfamiliar place of adulthood, of thinking, and of perspective in how I want to move my life forward. Or at least so it seems that each time I'm here things coalesce into a large step forward–in retrospect, perhaps, not as much.
The point remains however that this time around is no different, and here I am submerged in newfound thoughts come from the end of the financial and social bubble that was my undergraduate education, the idea that at 21 years of age I should probably have an idea of what I am doing or at least want to be doing with myself in the short years to come that I can call myself a twentysomething, and the realization that due to the cozy nature of my undergraduate years, like many others, I am perhaps a bit underqualified for what I am capable of doing. The Portuguese chapter of my life is, with due tidings, not over, as of the submission of my application to a political science master's degree program at Católica, a somewhat ironic (hopeful) return to the university I had so many frustrations with just a year prior. I feel the motivation of the close of my six month period of being a graduated semi-adult vagabond, the end of a placeholder course to keep me doing something with my time, not very much money, and the knowledge that all of these are signs that point to the necessity of doing something in the very near future. I have a couple of months to spend in the United States before beginning to realize more acutely all of the things I've spent so long whinging about on this blog in Europe, so I find it imperative not to sit idle, if for the very simple fact that my bank account quite simply cannot bear that kind of pressure.
There is something to making a break with the college bubble, as I so incessantly refer to it, learning to wean yourself off of a reliance upon others for whatever it may be that you want. This doesn't necessarily refer exclusively to financial means, naturally, but that social life outside of college is also almost radically different: there is none of the ease of meeting new people who have the tendency of fitting into the neat format of your interests, career, or academic path for the simple virtue of taking a class together or having an institutional structure which encourages rapid group formation. No longer actually being engrossed in the grind of serious classes also results in a disconnect between both the exchange students fretting about how to manage partying too much versus studying as well as the working class, those who have left their university years long behind and are actually sustaining themselves independently despite the economic crisis. The financial element is more obvious; despite being an only child, there is an increased reluctance on both parts between me and my parents for me to continue to freewheel in their money, me with the desire for more autonomy over what I'm doing with my cash and them for the simple desire of having more in their own pot to do with as they please. So I find myself in conversations with, variously, Damsel in Dismay and my mother about ways of working in such a manner that can cater to the skills I actually have, whether my experience shows it or not. I'm reluctant to talk about such things, mostly because not a single thing is yet in motion, at least until my "vacation" is over, and also because it's something I would rather look at in retrospect, like most other things.
I have no active desire to spend the next few years in the United States, though I no longer reject moving back altogether. Having as much "downtime" as I did put more into perspective what I want, for want of an institutional structure to tell me what I want, and I've come to see that I do want to spend more time in Portugal, productively though, with the intent of allowing my Portuguese to transcend the barriers of fluency I seem to have been on the path toward. I also want to make something of the connections I have been slowly but steadily building in Paris, with the intent of working here after I'm done with my degree in Lisbon, however unrelated the work itself may be to the degree I will pursue. I need experience more than I need to suffocate myself with the idea of trying to work exclusively in a field that, even in Europe, land of administrators and bureaucrats, is somewhat saturated. Beyond that, I don't know, and I don't need to try to plan my life out ten years at a time. It suffices to say that the motivation I have is driven by a tangible feeling, a desire if not impulse, to expand my horizons and continue traveling to major cities (and a continent) yet unknown, to provide for myself the means to do so comfortably and in the fashion I prefer. It's not going to pay for itself.
My only remaining question is: why is it always Paris? Is there something in the air, the overhyped bread, the finicky weather? Something to the particular smell of the metro, the chirping manner of the French spoken? In any case, I'm not complaining.
The point remains however that this time around is no different, and here I am submerged in newfound thoughts come from the end of the financial and social bubble that was my undergraduate education, the idea that at 21 years of age I should probably have an idea of what I am doing or at least want to be doing with myself in the short years to come that I can call myself a twentysomething, and the realization that due to the cozy nature of my undergraduate years, like many others, I am perhaps a bit underqualified for what I am capable of doing. The Portuguese chapter of my life is, with due tidings, not over, as of the submission of my application to a political science master's degree program at Católica, a somewhat ironic (hopeful) return to the university I had so many frustrations with just a year prior. I feel the motivation of the close of my six month period of being a graduated semi-adult vagabond, the end of a placeholder course to keep me doing something with my time, not very much money, and the knowledge that all of these are signs that point to the necessity of doing something in the very near future. I have a couple of months to spend in the United States before beginning to realize more acutely all of the things I've spent so long whinging about on this blog in Europe, so I find it imperative not to sit idle, if for the very simple fact that my bank account quite simply cannot bear that kind of pressure.
There is something to making a break with the college bubble, as I so incessantly refer to it, learning to wean yourself off of a reliance upon others for whatever it may be that you want. This doesn't necessarily refer exclusively to financial means, naturally, but that social life outside of college is also almost radically different: there is none of the ease of meeting new people who have the tendency of fitting into the neat format of your interests, career, or academic path for the simple virtue of taking a class together or having an institutional structure which encourages rapid group formation. No longer actually being engrossed in the grind of serious classes also results in a disconnect between both the exchange students fretting about how to manage partying too much versus studying as well as the working class, those who have left their university years long behind and are actually sustaining themselves independently despite the economic crisis. The financial element is more obvious; despite being an only child, there is an increased reluctance on both parts between me and my parents for me to continue to freewheel in their money, me with the desire for more autonomy over what I'm doing with my cash and them for the simple desire of having more in their own pot to do with as they please. So I find myself in conversations with, variously, Damsel in Dismay and my mother about ways of working in such a manner that can cater to the skills I actually have, whether my experience shows it or not. I'm reluctant to talk about such things, mostly because not a single thing is yet in motion, at least until my "vacation" is over, and also because it's something I would rather look at in retrospect, like most other things.
I have no active desire to spend the next few years in the United States, though I no longer reject moving back altogether. Having as much "downtime" as I did put more into perspective what I want, for want of an institutional structure to tell me what I want, and I've come to see that I do want to spend more time in Portugal, productively though, with the intent of allowing my Portuguese to transcend the barriers of fluency I seem to have been on the path toward. I also want to make something of the connections I have been slowly but steadily building in Paris, with the intent of working here after I'm done with my degree in Lisbon, however unrelated the work itself may be to the degree I will pursue. I need experience more than I need to suffocate myself with the idea of trying to work exclusively in a field that, even in Europe, land of administrators and bureaucrats, is somewhat saturated. Beyond that, I don't know, and I don't need to try to plan my life out ten years at a time. It suffices to say that the motivation I have is driven by a tangible feeling, a desire if not impulse, to expand my horizons and continue traveling to major cities (and a continent) yet unknown, to provide for myself the means to do so comfortably and in the fashion I prefer. It's not going to pay for itself.
My only remaining question is: why is it always Paris? Is there something in the air, the overhyped bread, the finicky weather? Something to the particular smell of the metro, the chirping manner of the French spoken? In any case, I'm not complaining.
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