Backup Plans.

Living in India has barely made is easier for me to avoid thinking about answering the bothersome question, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” in a few short months. The “be” in this question always implies “career” – the obviously most important part of post-collegiate existence.

It doesn’t help that I routinely receive emails from the communication college urging me to apply to such-and-such a paid internship, such-and-such a fellowship or job. Being halfway around the world, it’s not exactly possible. I’ve also developed and intimate relationship with the job listings on journalismjobs.com.

Right now I envision a plan something like this: apply to any journalism openings I can find. I don’t want to stay in Central New York, and I’d rather not go back home to New Hampshire, but I’d be open to living anywhere else, north, south, east, west, overseas, small town, big city – as long I can pay the bills and there’s at least a minimal population of pre-middle-agers, I’ll be golden. If I don’t like it, I can look for something else, right? I’m open to suggestions for fun places to live.

But, of course, there’s always the possibility that I totally strike out. This is why it’s important to have some backup plans – so when the student loan bills start rolling in, I can start showing the money. I’ve started a list of possible alternative jobs:

1) Become an au pair for a rich family in the south of France. Take care of two blond-headed children named Bebe and Etienne. Parents are busy with high profile social functions, rendezvous with celebrities and other yacht-owning folk. I am left accompany the children on their favorite pastimes, including horseback riding, sailing, tennis, music and painting lesson, and lavish teatimes with other local kids. I am given my own quarters in a private guest house, am provided with three meals a day by the family’s private chef, and unlimited access to the yacht when Monsieur and Madame aren’t using it.

2) Invent a device that makes the time it takes to return from a destination half the time that it takes to get to said destination. This cuts the annoying part where you just want to be home without taking away from the scenic and adventurous experiences. I sell my product to Dr. Rao, who uses it when taking students on three hour bus rides to temples, safaris and holistic hospitals in the middle of nowhere. He is so grateful to not have to listen to frustrated students complain about the never-ending ride that he buys me a mansion in India and I live like a Raja from then on. When my genius invention catches on, I sell it to a multimillion dollar corporation and become the 37^th billionaire of India.

3) Marry an sugar daddy and become a trophy wife. Spend my time taking expensive Pilates classes and $300 designer pumps. Get knocked up once every two years and hire a nanny to take care of the kids while I spend my time organizing charity events to raise money to save the wild possums of the Netherlands. Eventually divorce my husband and use the money to travel around the world with my lover, the former family landscaper. Also, carry a poodle named Foofie in a Coach purse lined with cellophane.

4) Become a sexual anthropologist and conduct fieldwork focusing on the sexual practices, rituals, connotations, and cultures of civilizations around the world. My book, “Sex World” becomes a bestseller (largely because half the buyers mistake it for erotic fiction). Teach classes at Columbia University called “globalization’s affects on sex” and “intro to international sexy times.” I win numerous awards for my groundbreaking findings.

5) Get employed as a fortune cookie writer. I may not be Chinese, but I’m pretty sure I can to better than “life is a gift, don’t waste it,” and “if winter comes, can spring be far behind.”

6) Convert to Christianity, give up all my worldly possessions, and become a nun. Dedicate my life to developing an orphanage in Nicaragua and live in a tent in the rainforest. After five years of teaching the children the benefits of following the word of the Savior, I meet a native Nicaraguan fisherman, fall madly in love and abandon the convent. Spend the next years touring the globe by fishing boat and writing greeting cards for hallmark on the side.

7) Move to Quebec City, Canada and divide my time between being a busker (playing the saw) and a street caricaturist. I become well known and acclaimed in both professions and make enough money each day to live in Le Chateau Frontenac Hotel and drink a bottle of fine wine a night. My caricatures become considered world class and a top executive from the Disney channel offers me a spot as the host of a “learn to draw” TV show. Before starting my new job, I teach a fellow busker/cartoonist all my tricks of the trade. He’s so grateful that he makes me the godmother of his first child and names her Rebecca. The story of my legacy eventually becomes a French-Canadian epic folktale.

8) Make a living as a human guinea pig for scientific testing of pharmaceuticals and psychological studies. Become the first person to experiment with a new hallucinogenic that has cancer-preventing and mental illness medicinal value and virtually no negative side effects. As a positive side effect, however, I live past 175. Somewhere along the line I sell my story to a critically acclaimed film director, and live off syndication rights.