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epitome of incomprehensibility
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If I'm doing linguistics next year, it might have to be in Austria.
I mean, for-real Austria. Not fake India, as in the library room yesterday.
But I'm not sure. Even if I get into the program, it'll be expensive. Probably. Sometimes I get scared to look things up.
B. owes me over $3,000, but that's another story.
Going to Austria would contradict my "don't fly in 2024" resolution, but I'm bound to contradict myself somewhere. And for narrative purposes, it would make the learning-German thing seemed planned instead of random.
Narrative. Hm. I have a bit of a sad-romantic crush on the place. Not a happy-romantic crush like Antarctica, which has a long-term shrine (nostalgically labeled ANTARTCICA) inside my icicle-fringed heart.
Had some sorrows_of_young_e_o_i when a guy from Austria broke my heart by accident in 2011. I spent the next two years piecing it together. What was heart and what were icicles wasn't always clear. Plus there were bits of glass from a shattered moral compass in 2012. Picking up that mess, making pieces with it, took time.
...
To be prosaic: there's a university in Vienna which has a linguistics program in English. It looks like I'd have a better chance to get into that one than the one in Newfoundland, since the Austrian one specializes more in historical linguistics.
Even if I can't do either next year, it isn't horrible. Fingers crossed, I'll be flexing my flexibility - not bragging of it, 'cuz there's not much to brag of - but still exercising it.
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