allow me to introduce myself, i’m a man of wealth and taste

Posted: March 12, 2010 in Personal Life, Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

… OR NOT!

I promised an introductory post, so here we are. Let’s get to it then.

My favorite nickname is Jos. My old junior high school friends gave me that nickname, partly because my real name starts with the letters “Jo” and partly because I have an unhealthy affection for orange juice (pronounced “yoos” in my language). And yeah, you guessed it, that’s why I named this blog and my username to Joosen.

When I was a kid, I scavenged the cup boards for food, and peaked through a sack filled with old potatoes. The potatoes were so old and had been in the dark for so long, that there 50 cm long roots had grown out from them and they were now tangled in the sack like a network of tentacles. I remember opening that sack and staring at those white, limp branches for a mere second before I dropped the sack and retreated. I know that there’s nothing really frightening or dangerous about old potatoes and their appendages, but in that moment before I realized what I was staring at, I felt an intense dread and panicked, and almost 15 years later I still hate old potatoes and carrots with outgrowth.

My favourite subjects in school was art and philosophy. When I graduated high school, I picked my coming education mostly at chance. Education in Sweden is free (or payed for by taxes anyway) and I still lived at home back then, so I just applied for random things I thought would be fun/interesting to do for a year while I decided what I wanted to do with my life. I made a list and sent it in. For most of the summer, I thought I had picked a bachelor in theoretical philosophy as my top priority, but when the application thing came back I realized that I had picked a supplementary technical term for future engineering students instead.  I admit this was somewhat of a mistake on my behalf: I didn’t understand that if you got in to your first choice, you couldn’t choose any of the other ones instead, so I never bothered to arrange my choices after what I liked to do the most. The supplementary technical term was not as random as it sounds though; in high school I read society studies, and if I wanted to continue an education in science I would have to take some supplementary courses to apply. It was a useful choice at a respected university, so I felt smart and my parents were satisfied. However, it was so boring and intense that I died a bit on the inside. Physics ARE interesting (I love  fringe science, time-travel, string- and quantum physics theories) but not when you’re pushed to read about it 1000 hours every week so you won’t fail.

Come 2009 and my next term. Moved on to a bachelor engineering program in medical technology. My courses were in biological chemistry and anatomy and physiology, with some technical engineering things thrown in at the end. Biological chemistry was frigging painful, anatomy was rather interesting, but when spring arrived I knew that there was simply no way I was going to spend the remaining parts of my life repairing MRIs or colonscopy endoscopes. Summer came and I dropped out.

I planned on working for a year, but as usual with my life, random shit occurred. During spring 2009 I took the national test for higher educations, although since I was busy studying anatomy at the time I wasn’t very prepared for it. I ended up with a pretty OK result for someone who did it for the first time and wasn’t trying. My parents urged me to send in some applications to universities, just in case my job plans didn’t work out due to the economical crisis. Per usual, I put together a random list of things that 1. I thought I couldn’t get in to. 2. Seemed interesting. I think the list went something like this: 1,2,3, were Speech-language pathologist programs at different schools. 4. Social Anthropology. 5-10. Psychology and philosophy courses.

Anyhow, the first results came. I had been placed as a reserve on one of the SLP programs in a different city. “Cool”, I thought, “SPL seems like a decent job.” I told my dad this, and he said something along the lines of “Cool, *insert university city’s name here* is not that far away, you could probably get there in an hour so you wouldn’t have to move out!”. I waited anxiously until the beginning of September, when I secretly travelled down to the school to find out whether I’d get in or not. The way the reserve system works is that they have an introductory day for the new students the first day of the term, so they can see which of the approved applicants shows up. If someone doesn’t show up, the spot goes to the reserve with the highest grade, and if another doesn’t show, it goes to the reserve with the highest test score. 4 people didn’t show up. 40 reserves did. I sat in a classroom as they read out the names of the reserves with the highest grades. There were two spots left when they started reading the names of the reserves with the highest test score. “Aw, crap”,  I thought, because I knew since before that I was number 4 on that list. However, two of those reserves didn’t show up, and I got offered to start the program next day.

By this point though I begun to suspect that my dad wasn’t great with geography. It took me ~2.30 hours to get to the school by train, not 1. Anyhow, my parents thought me getting in was great news, so I packed a bag and went back early next morning. I stayed with some people from a class above me in their living-room for a week until I found my own apartment. Suddenly I had moved away from home and was living in a strange town, all because of a lot of random events. I didn’t like it much, because it was new and strange and I didn’t know anyone, and I mostly just wanted to go home and eat a sandwich in my dad’s kitchen for the first month or so. I said I’d give it a year, because I knew it was a good education and that I would have to move anyhow sooner or later, so this is were I still am in my life. In a few months, that year will be up, but I figure I’ll stay here for at least another term. SLP is one of the few things that actually seem interesting to me, and to be honest, I’m not sure where else to go or to do that would make me happier/less miserable. It would just be the same shit, different city, so why not. It’ll probably work out eventually; things generally do.  I think I’m just one of those pathologically bored, anxious and  under-stimulated people. I like to think my attempts to not be bored has led me to some pretty fun and amazing places though, and I’m hoping I’ll get to one of those places again soon enough.

If you’ve made it far enough to read this line, then congrats, you know how to use the scroller well. This introduction post got way longer than I intended, and I didn’t even introduce my turtles (Montauge and Felix-Sebastian). It’s nearing midnight and I have a cough, so I guess I’ll just continue in another post.  See ya!

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