Summer is over. The temperature is dropping and I'm sad to think that many months of cold weather is looming. Bostonians live by seasons and all in all, it was a pretty crappy summer weatherwise. I am super tanned though, as I tried to take advantage of every nice day by being outside, whether it be sitting along the Charles River watching sailboats, joggers and amazing eye-candy stroll by while catching up on the phone with dear Fariyal in Chicago, or by spending a very pleasant day canoeing with the lab in Ipswich.
I'm really going to miss Boston. There was a free concert by a Boston orchestra at the Hatchshell along the river the other evening. Sitting/lying down in the open air, with Sven and Sue for company, enjoying Mozart's Symphony No. 41 was so relaxing and fun.
It's the season for getting married it seems. Three friends of mine have tied the knot the past week, congratulations to them all, especially Aussie-mate Nick. I was sad to miss it, but from all accounts a great time was had by all.
My other news is that Emre and I visited Washington DC the other weekend. DC is a very nice city, lots to see and do (all the Smithsonian Museums, and monuments, White House etc.), it was super hot and gorgeously sunny throughout. Highlights were seeing the Lincoln memorial by night and the random stroll along the river to get there from the very pretty suburb of Georgetown, our very cheap but swanky hotel room at the Renaissance, and seeing the Apollo 11 return module and associated miscellaneous moon stuff -- the silver case that carried the moon rocks back for example. Also the giant squid on display in the Natural History Museum was funky.
Overall I'm in a good mood here.
Showing posts with label Boston. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Boston. Show all posts
29 August 2009
30 July 2009
G & T
I'm sipping a lovely Gin and Tonic after a rewarding day at work. The sun set four hours ago but it's still hot enough to make you sweat. I saw a ridiculous number of uber hot dudes on my way home earlier, so all in all, a good day :-). I'm definitely going to miss Boston.
7 July 2009
Moisture
It's been raining on and off (mostly on) for the better part of four weeks. After 6 months of winter/cold, summer is the only saving grace for Boston weather, so having continuously rainy, overcast, dreary and generally depressing weather during our supposed summer months really sucks. Boston summers are usually very hot and humid, but with superb clear blue skies. Not this year though. This is the worst summer Boston has ever had according to a local Bostonian work colleague. In my three years here, I wholeheartedly agree. I'm currently generally grumpy, depressed and pissed off. This summer sucks.
13 June 2009
Ben's random diary of recentish events.
Wow, it's been a while since I last updated here. Needless to say oodles of things have happened in the interim; so much that I'll just write what pops into my head instead of crafting a structured entry.
- trip to Sydney on my 2 year expat anniversary. Seeing everyone again, being babysat by various friends during my week of couch surfing, dinner and marvelous views at Ripple's, hanging out at Darling Harbour, celebrating Nathan's 30th with everyone, the list goes on....
- having a pleasant dinner cruise with the family on the Harbour for Brother's birthday. Fantastic weather, standing on the top deck soaking in the sun setting behind the Bridge and Opera House. Two brothers hanging out again, smiling, and enjoying the moment. No stress.
- getting my Maton tuned up and belting out a few tunes on a beautiful guitar.
- returning to Boston to find Emre at the airport for a surprise welcome home, plus entering my apartment and finding fresh fruit, yogurt, bread and other goodies in the kitchen courtesy of Sue and Till. They definitely spoil me. Also discovering that Till's brother and girlfriend, who I let stay in my apartment while they were visiting during my absence, had bought Fetch a new, large aquarium to lounge around in as thanks for my hospitality. Sven calling to welcome me back and letting me know how much he had missed me.
I had left home, flown to the opposite side of the globe and arrived home again.
Awesome.
- Had a really relaxed and super enjoyable time a few weekends ago that for some reason sticks in my head although nothing extraordinary happened. Ran 5km along the river in gorgeous weather and people watched afterwards; played guitar; cooked a killer spag bol; and generally enjoyed being in a good mood.
- I saw my future husband the other day, well dream-husband anyway. Light brown hair, sunglasses, green shirt and white shorts on a drool worthy body. Hot.
- Ash and GK swinging by Boston on their US trip. We drank, ate and were merry. Brief, but fantastic. Glad I could share a slice of my Boston-life with them.
- Seeing Gomez play. Wow, are those guys talented. Vocals were outstanding, guitar work was impressive and a very good vibe in a pleasant venue.
- learning to sing and play guitar at the same time with some success but still a lot of work to go. Trying to nail "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) by Greenday. Thanks Nathan for getting me started on this!
- meeting Maynard James Keenan, lead singer of Tool, the other week at a wine signing. Not only do I have a couple of bottles of plonk with MJK's autograph, but I got a "thanks man" from MJK himself. Sweet!
- The big decision to end my postdocing and potentially leaving science next year. Yep, it's homeward bound for me in March. Bloody scary but super exciting. Kinda like going skydiving I imagine, except unlike the certainty of gravity, I have no idea where I'll land.
- Michael Jackson died today. He was an incredibly messed up man but produced some incredible music, and who can forget the moonwalk. Sad.
- Had fun at a lab party the other weekend that was held at a colleagues (Tom) place. He lives in the sticks in a house his grandfather built. It's more of a small farm really, with fields and tractors and sheds full of plows, bansaws and other manly equipment. Played ping pong against the boss, pitched for our team in Whiffle ball (baseball but with a plasticky ball) and belted a few around the ground, had a few hits at badminton and sunk a few beers in between glasses of Tom's Twisted Tea (tea with vodka and a few secret ingredients). There were quite a few kids running around playing games with the grown ups, which made me think a bit about whether I'll end up having kids or not -- I'd like to but the odds are stacked against me. Maybe I'll have to make do with getting a pet dog or something in the future.
- watching the new Doctor Who series over Netflix. Bloody entertaining, hilarious and jolly good fun all around. Highly recommended.
- someone's yelling in the street. No words. Just a primal bellow every now and again. Sounds like someone's a tad frustrated or angry, wonder what happened...
- trip to Sydney on my 2 year expat anniversary. Seeing everyone again, being babysat by various friends during my week of couch surfing, dinner and marvelous views at Ripple's, hanging out at Darling Harbour, celebrating Nathan's 30th with everyone, the list goes on....
- having a pleasant dinner cruise with the family on the Harbour for Brother's birthday. Fantastic weather, standing on the top deck soaking in the sun setting behind the Bridge and Opera House. Two brothers hanging out again, smiling, and enjoying the moment. No stress.
- getting my Maton tuned up and belting out a few tunes on a beautiful guitar.
- returning to Boston to find Emre at the airport for a surprise welcome home, plus entering my apartment and finding fresh fruit, yogurt, bread and other goodies in the kitchen courtesy of Sue and Till. They definitely spoil me. Also discovering that Till's brother and girlfriend, who I let stay in my apartment while they were visiting during my absence, had bought Fetch a new, large aquarium to lounge around in as thanks for my hospitality. Sven calling to welcome me back and letting me know how much he had missed me.
I had left home, flown to the opposite side of the globe and arrived home again.
Awesome.
- Had a really relaxed and super enjoyable time a few weekends ago that for some reason sticks in my head although nothing extraordinary happened. Ran 5km along the river in gorgeous weather and people watched afterwards; played guitar; cooked a killer spag bol; and generally enjoyed being in a good mood.
- I saw my future husband the other day, well dream-husband anyway. Light brown hair, sunglasses, green shirt and white shorts on a drool worthy body. Hot.
- Ash and GK swinging by Boston on their US trip. We drank, ate and were merry. Brief, but fantastic. Glad I could share a slice of my Boston-life with them.
- Seeing Gomez play. Wow, are those guys talented. Vocals were outstanding, guitar work was impressive and a very good vibe in a pleasant venue.
- learning to sing and play guitar at the same time with some success but still a lot of work to go. Trying to nail "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) by Greenday. Thanks Nathan for getting me started on this!
- meeting Maynard James Keenan, lead singer of Tool, the other week at a wine signing. Not only do I have a couple of bottles of plonk with MJK's autograph, but I got a "thanks man" from MJK himself. Sweet!
- The big decision to end my postdocing and potentially leaving science next year. Yep, it's homeward bound for me in March. Bloody scary but super exciting. Kinda like going skydiving I imagine, except unlike the certainty of gravity, I have no idea where I'll land.
- Michael Jackson died today. He was an incredibly messed up man but produced some incredible music, and who can forget the moonwalk. Sad.
- Had fun at a lab party the other weekend that was held at a colleagues (Tom) place. He lives in the sticks in a house his grandfather built. It's more of a small farm really, with fields and tractors and sheds full of plows, bansaws and other manly equipment. Played ping pong against the boss, pitched for our team in Whiffle ball (baseball but with a plasticky ball) and belted a few around the ground, had a few hits at badminton and sunk a few beers in between glasses of Tom's Twisted Tea (tea with vodka and a few secret ingredients). There were quite a few kids running around playing games with the grown ups, which made me think a bit about whether I'll end up having kids or not -- I'd like to but the odds are stacked against me. Maybe I'll have to make do with getting a pet dog or something in the future.
- watching the new Doctor Who series over Netflix. Bloody entertaining, hilarious and jolly good fun all around. Highly recommended.
- someone's yelling in the street. No words. Just a primal bellow every now and again. Sounds like someone's a tad frustrated or angry, wonder what happened...
17 January 2008
A welcome back
"What's this?" sneered the immigration officer behind the desk. I looked at my crisp, neatly typed documents that had just been cast onto the counter before returning my gaze at the imposing uniformed figure in front me. The officer maintained his disdainful glare at my presence. Confused at the unexpected question, my brain fought to formulate a coherent response. The 2 week long holiday in Great Britain and Spain, combined with the just completed 7 and 1/2 hour flight from London had deadened my senses and I struggled to comprehend my unexpected situation.
The room at Boston airport that I had found myself in was fairly large, with several rows of seats facing a counter where 6 immigration officers presided. Resplendent in their black uniforms and gold badges, they formed an intimidating human barrier for entry into the US. A two-way mirror spanned the length of the room, and security cameras maintained a silent vigil over the proceedings. Save one other Middle Eastern looking individual I was the sole foreigner in this 'Secondary inspection' area of US immigration. I had been led to this room after alighting the plane and presenting myself to immigration, a process that had been a mere formality during my numerous other entries into the States. Since I have a valid work-visa and am an Australian citizen, I had no idea why I was being so intensely scrutinized this time around.
Even though several officers were unoccupied when I was escorted into the secondary inspection room, it was several minutes before I was called up to be questioned.
At the counter, after a few routine questions including what did I do ("medical scientist") and whether I had a valid working visa ("yes I do") I was confronted with the sudden, angrily toned question of "What's this?", in reference to my document that had been thrown in front of me like trash. The paper was not trash, but was extra documentation from my workplace that further supported the validity of the visa in my passport.
I was stunned by the sudden hostility of the officer. My treatment made me feel like I had no right to be on US soil. Everything I had endured and accomplished in order to earn the right to work in the US - my PhD, the job interviews, the stressful move overseas - were temporarily stripped away during this brief moment. As for the question, I finally replied that the person taking care of my visa at work had supplied me the letter and had said that I may need to show it upon returning to Boston. Satisfied with the answer, the officer abruptly dropped the stern demeanour, informed me that I was "all set" and proceeded to make some light banter as he stamped my passport. I stumbled out of the room to collect my luggage, feeling bewildered with the experience.
It was with regret that I had boarded the plane to Boston earlier that day, as it meant that my holiday had ended and the stresses of work were imminent. Being an acutely sensitive individual, my immigration experience had further soured my mood and after arriving home I just wanted to leave the States again and not return. Sure I understand border protection is necessary. What I don't understand is the requirement to treat people impolitely in the process of merely confirming an individuals credentials (it wasn't as if my visa had expired); I guess it's easy to do so when you're in a position of power. Well at least I wasn't in immigration for very long, unlike some of the horror stories I've heard about where people with valid visas were detained for several hours as their visas status was confirmed.
So that was my welcome back to Boston last week. Not a great start to my Boston 2008 experience, nor is this a very inspiring 61st entry for Status: +61, but hey, c'est la vie. Oh yeah, a very belated Happy New Year!
The room at Boston airport that I had found myself in was fairly large, with several rows of seats facing a counter where 6 immigration officers presided. Resplendent in their black uniforms and gold badges, they formed an intimidating human barrier for entry into the US. A two-way mirror spanned the length of the room, and security cameras maintained a silent vigil over the proceedings. Save one other Middle Eastern looking individual I was the sole foreigner in this 'Secondary inspection' area of US immigration. I had been led to this room after alighting the plane and presenting myself to immigration, a process that had been a mere formality during my numerous other entries into the States. Since I have a valid work-visa and am an Australian citizen, I had no idea why I was being so intensely scrutinized this time around.
Even though several officers were unoccupied when I was escorted into the secondary inspection room, it was several minutes before I was called up to be questioned.
At the counter, after a few routine questions including what did I do ("medical scientist") and whether I had a valid working visa ("yes I do") I was confronted with the sudden, angrily toned question of "What's this?", in reference to my document that had been thrown in front of me like trash. The paper was not trash, but was extra documentation from my workplace that further supported the validity of the visa in my passport.
I was stunned by the sudden hostility of the officer. My treatment made me feel like I had no right to be on US soil. Everything I had endured and accomplished in order to earn the right to work in the US - my PhD, the job interviews, the stressful move overseas - were temporarily stripped away during this brief moment. As for the question, I finally replied that the person taking care of my visa at work had supplied me the letter and had said that I may need to show it upon returning to Boston. Satisfied with the answer, the officer abruptly dropped the stern demeanour, informed me that I was "all set" and proceeded to make some light banter as he stamped my passport. I stumbled out of the room to collect my luggage, feeling bewildered with the experience.
It was with regret that I had boarded the plane to Boston earlier that day, as it meant that my holiday had ended and the stresses of work were imminent. Being an acutely sensitive individual, my immigration experience had further soured my mood and after arriving home I just wanted to leave the States again and not return. Sure I understand border protection is necessary. What I don't understand is the requirement to treat people impolitely in the process of merely confirming an individuals credentials (it wasn't as if my visa had expired); I guess it's easy to do so when you're in a position of power. Well at least I wasn't in immigration for very long, unlike some of the horror stories I've heard about where people with valid visas were detained for several hours as their visas status was confirmed.
So that was my welcome back to Boston last week. Not a great start to my Boston 2008 experience, nor is this a very inspiring 61st entry for Status: +61, but hey, c'est la vie. Oh yeah, a very belated Happy New Year!
23 December 2007
An update
Name: Ben.
Hometown: Sydney, New South Wales, Australia.
Current Location: Boston, Massachusetts, USA.
Work: My project has yielded some promising results, so that's a positive. I don't find my project particularly interesting or beneficial for me career-wise, so that's a negative. Additionally, my current research isn't really that congruent with my PhD training, and it's not what I want to research in the future, score more negatives. I came to Boston to gain experience such that I could return to Sydney and consider starting my own lab. My current position isn't facilitating this ambition so I'm scoping alternate labs, with the aim of starting afresh early next year. So this work transition is totally stressing me out. Work score = 4/10
Family: My family is dysfunctional to say the least. Brother is still recovering from his psychosis and remains out of the workforce. Dad continues being a selfish asshole that makes me ashamed to be his son. Mum is overworked and always stressed due to Brother's illness and Dad's antics. Since I am the only family member she can really speak to, she misses me significantly. I'm constantly battling the feeling of guilt over leaving her (and Brother) to pursue a life on the other side of the world. Still, things on the family front aren't as volatile as they have been previously. Family score = 5/10.
Friends: Bing and Lulu continue to be my extremely compassionate guides here in Boston, I owe them a lot. They're like caring older siblings, who are wiser, reassuring and less erratic than me. I continue to talk with them extensively about my work dilemmas and Boston life in general. My two very close friends in the lab, Maestro and Ariel have been extremely considerate and are two really positive people who are fun to hang out with. I'll blog about our time together in future posts. Bay-buddy is constantly supportive and has helped me out immensely, but since he is no longer in the lab we only catch up weekly or so. Of course there's Ex-flatmate and my other long-time mates, GK, Entrepreneur, The Scotsman, Ace & Surfermate, providing essential support +61. Friends score = 9/10.
Love: My status is single. Very, very single. Sigh. I didn't blog about it, but there was an Irish guy, Sean, who I am no longer seeing, but it's OK as it never seemed to be a serious long-term relationship from the beginning. There just wasn't that 'something' between us, but we had some great times, he was charming and damn his accent was adorable (of course he said the same about my Aussie speech). I haven't been particularly proactive in finding a boyfriend recently and this is something I'm seeking to improve on in the immediate future. Love score = 3/10.
Mental health: Between my family and career, it's been a particularly uncertain and worrisome period of my life. Boston still continues to show me novel experiences that makes me feel as if I'm moving forward in my life, perhaps not always in an anticipated direction or as smoothly as expected, but still 'proceeding' nonetheless. There have been times when I've been on the precipice of slipping into depression again, but thankfully this has been avoided. A few weeks of being generally melancholic is the worst I've felt. Mental health score = 6/10.
Physical health: The gym is one of my favourite places. Maestro and I go regularly. We not only train together and motivate each other, but the gym is our place to discuss the lab and everything else in our lives. It's one of our sanctuaries away from work where we can work-out and goof around. I also feel that the exercise-induced endorphins are a key to me avoiding depression. With winter here, running outside is no longer an option, so the gym has become crucial to my mental and physical well-being. I'm definitely as fit as I've ever been, although an underwear-model-worthy six-pack still eludes me, so minus one point. Physical health score = 8/10.
Overall: It's been an emotional, life-changing year, and compared to some other awful years, 2007 ranks as a good one. My Boston life could obviously have been better work-wise (and relationship wise), but in the end this is irrelevant as it could have been much worse. It's difficult to not regret or overanalyse certain decisions I've made in, and leading up to, Boston life, but I'm trying to remain pragmatic and positive about my current situation.
With the close of another year, it's natural to take stock of our lives and resolve to improve on the less optimal parts. I'm looking forward to the challenges of next year. It's not going to be any easier that's for sure, but that as they say, is life. There's no guarantee that I'll rant any less, but I'll try to rave a bit more. My Boston adventure is just getting interesting, I feel that it's "maturing". Should be an intriguing next couple of months.
Blogging was initially designed to keep my mates up to date with my activities here, and it has also been cathartic and immensely enjoyable, I anticipate blogging through next year.
Life is always a struggle, and as one individual amongst the 6,639,361,044 current inhabitants on this world, I try to remind myself that I'm very fortunate to be in my current position. For those of us living relatively privileged lives (I'd imagine the majority reading this blog fits into this category), it's always refreshing to look outside of our daily microcosm and gain a wider perspective on the grander scheme of humanity. Considering I'm not fighting for survival in a war-torn country or suffering from a debilitating illness, it's clear that having an ideal job or being in a loving relationship, really are luxuries in life.
Of course we all know these realities, but it's not often that we actually remember them.
Having the opportunity to live abroad in a great city, getting a PhD, having a Macbook Pro to play with, hanging out with some amazing friends and having a loving (albeit messed up) family are luxuries in my life. I shouldn't complain.
Well that's my current status and the last post until I return to Boston from my European holiday (I fly out in a few hours and still have to pack, shit!). To my mates, enjoy the Sydney summer, don't go too crazy over NYE (I'm looking at you Scotsman), and if there's anything I've been reminded of from living in Boston, it's to be a little more bold and dip outside your comfort zone from time to time, who knows what you'll gain. Miss you guys immeasurably. To everyone reading this, may the New Year find you safe and well. My overall score remains = +61.
Hometown: Sydney, New South Wales, Australia.
Current Location: Boston, Massachusetts, USA.
Work: My project has yielded some promising results, so that's a positive. I don't find my project particularly interesting or beneficial for me career-wise, so that's a negative. Additionally, my current research isn't really that congruent with my PhD training, and it's not what I want to research in the future, score more negatives. I came to Boston to gain experience such that I could return to Sydney and consider starting my own lab. My current position isn't facilitating this ambition so I'm scoping alternate labs, with the aim of starting afresh early next year. So this work transition is totally stressing me out. Work score = 4/10
Family: My family is dysfunctional to say the least. Brother is still recovering from his psychosis and remains out of the workforce. Dad continues being a selfish asshole that makes me ashamed to be his son. Mum is overworked and always stressed due to Brother's illness and Dad's antics. Since I am the only family member she can really speak to, she misses me significantly. I'm constantly battling the feeling of guilt over leaving her (and Brother) to pursue a life on the other side of the world. Still, things on the family front aren't as volatile as they have been previously. Family score = 5/10.
Friends: Bing and Lulu continue to be my extremely compassionate guides here in Boston, I owe them a lot. They're like caring older siblings, who are wiser, reassuring and less erratic than me. I continue to talk with them extensively about my work dilemmas and Boston life in general. My two very close friends in the lab, Maestro and Ariel have been extremely considerate and are two really positive people who are fun to hang out with. I'll blog about our time together in future posts. Bay-buddy is constantly supportive and has helped me out immensely, but since he is no longer in the lab we only catch up weekly or so. Of course there's Ex-flatmate and my other long-time mates, GK, Entrepreneur, The Scotsman, Ace & Surfermate, providing essential support +61. Friends score = 9/10.
Love: My status is single. Very, very single. Sigh. I didn't blog about it, but there was an Irish guy, Sean, who I am no longer seeing, but it's OK as it never seemed to be a serious long-term relationship from the beginning. There just wasn't that 'something' between us, but we had some great times, he was charming and damn his accent was adorable (of course he said the same about my Aussie speech). I haven't been particularly proactive in finding a boyfriend recently and this is something I'm seeking to improve on in the immediate future. Love score = 3/10.
Mental health: Between my family and career, it's been a particularly uncertain and worrisome period of my life. Boston still continues to show me novel experiences that makes me feel as if I'm moving forward in my life, perhaps not always in an anticipated direction or as smoothly as expected, but still 'proceeding' nonetheless. There have been times when I've been on the precipice of slipping into depression again, but thankfully this has been avoided. A few weeks of being generally melancholic is the worst I've felt. Mental health score = 6/10.
Physical health: The gym is one of my favourite places. Maestro and I go regularly. We not only train together and motivate each other, but the gym is our place to discuss the lab and everything else in our lives. It's one of our sanctuaries away from work where we can work-out and goof around. I also feel that the exercise-induced endorphins are a key to me avoiding depression. With winter here, running outside is no longer an option, so the gym has become crucial to my mental and physical well-being. I'm definitely as fit as I've ever been, although an underwear-model-worthy six-pack still eludes me, so minus one point. Physical health score = 8/10.
Overall: It's been an emotional, life-changing year, and compared to some other awful years, 2007 ranks as a good one. My Boston life could obviously have been better work-wise (and relationship wise), but in the end this is irrelevant as it could have been much worse. It's difficult to not regret or overanalyse certain decisions I've made in, and leading up to, Boston life, but I'm trying to remain pragmatic and positive about my current situation.
With the close of another year, it's natural to take stock of our lives and resolve to improve on the less optimal parts. I'm looking forward to the challenges of next year. It's not going to be any easier that's for sure, but that as they say, is life. There's no guarantee that I'll rant any less, but I'll try to rave a bit more. My Boston adventure is just getting interesting, I feel that it's "maturing". Should be an intriguing next couple of months.
Blogging was initially designed to keep my mates up to date with my activities here, and it has also been cathartic and immensely enjoyable, I anticipate blogging through next year.
Life is always a struggle, and as one individual amongst the 6,639,361,044 current inhabitants on this world, I try to remind myself that I'm very fortunate to be in my current position. For those of us living relatively privileged lives (I'd imagine the majority reading this blog fits into this category), it's always refreshing to look outside of our daily microcosm and gain a wider perspective on the grander scheme of humanity. Considering I'm not fighting for survival in a war-torn country or suffering from a debilitating illness, it's clear that having an ideal job or being in a loving relationship, really are luxuries in life.
Of course we all know these realities, but it's not often that we actually remember them.
Having the opportunity to live abroad in a great city, getting a PhD, having a Macbook Pro to play with, hanging out with some amazing friends and having a loving (albeit messed up) family are luxuries in my life. I shouldn't complain.
Well that's my current status and the last post until I return to Boston from my European holiday (I fly out in a few hours and still have to pack, shit!). To my mates, enjoy the Sydney summer, don't go too crazy over NYE (I'm looking at you Scotsman), and if there's anything I've been reminded of from living in Boston, it's to be a little more bold and dip outside your comfort zone from time to time, who knows what you'll gain. Miss you guys immeasurably. To everyone reading this, may the New Year find you safe and well. My overall score remains = +61.
21 December 2007
A Sydney-free Christmas
It hasn't sunk in yet, but Christmas and the New Year are around the corner. All the familiar cues I usually associate with Christmas are missing; it isn't hot, the smell of mangoes ripening in the fruitbowl is missing, and there haven't been any Christmas party barbeques on the beach, no beers in a mate's yard. Instead, it's chilly and beautifully snowy at the moment.
It won't be a Boston Christmas for me however. In two days I'm off to London to visit my cousin, and then we're off to Spain where I'll spend my New Years Eve in Barcelona. Since I've never been to the UK or Spain I'm bloody excited, plus reaching London will only take 6 and 1/2 hours, as opposed to the gruelling ~24 hour Sydney to London travel time.
I think travelling overseas is a rite of passage for many young Australians. It isn't uncommon for Australian high-school leavers to spend a year or so overseas (typically in the UK) before starting university or a full-time job, and almost everyone I know has travelled abroad as much as possible. Perhaps it's just the adventurous and friendly nature of many Australians that sends us across the globe to meet new people. Living on our own continent, and being so geographically isolated, maybe travelling helps us Aussies reconnect with the rest of humanity. Whatever it is, I can't wait to travel again.
I've been fortunate enough to have visited several countries in Europe and Asia, but the map of unvisited countries and the empty space in my passport gnaws at my desire to travel. Travelling forces you to break free from the comfort of routine life and embrace new experiences (and people if you're lucky...). Regardless of the destination, every trip for me has been a lesson in independence, creativity and endurance. Plus, to encounter the generosity and genuine friendliness of strangers whilst visiting a poorer country is a humbling experience, it gives a refreshing perspective to life.
The past week has been bloody hectic, but now that it's over, I can concentrate on packing etc. for my impending trip. Here are a few sites that I use for my travel plans:
Tickets: Cheaptickets, Kayak and Expedia (also for accommodation)
Accommodation: Hostelworld, Venere
Avoid the horrors of "Seat 29E" (I highly recommend viewing the hilarious, original customer complaint by clicking the link to the PDF) by using Seatguru to make the best choice for your airplane seat.
For those overpackers amongst us, pack your luggage efficiently and keep your shirts wrinkle-free by following this diagram and these tips on "bundle wrapping".
If you are travelling soon, keep safe, have fun and be nice to any Aussies you might meet along the way.
Before he left the States recently, Ex-flatmate was kind enough to give me a book entitled "Conversational Spanish in 7 Days", which should make my Spain travels considerably easier. I'm not entirely confident of the book's 7 day claim, but if a Spaniard should ask me "Puede cambiar el neumatico?" I can definitely say "Si".
It won't be a Boston Christmas for me however. In two days I'm off to London to visit my cousin, and then we're off to Spain where I'll spend my New Years Eve in Barcelona. Since I've never been to the UK or Spain I'm bloody excited, plus reaching London will only take 6 and 1/2 hours, as opposed to the gruelling ~24 hour Sydney to London travel time.
I think travelling overseas is a rite of passage for many young Australians. It isn't uncommon for Australian high-school leavers to spend a year or so overseas (typically in the UK) before starting university or a full-time job, and almost everyone I know has travelled abroad as much as possible. Perhaps it's just the adventurous and friendly nature of many Australians that sends us across the globe to meet new people. Living on our own continent, and being so geographically isolated, maybe travelling helps us Aussies reconnect with the rest of humanity. Whatever it is, I can't wait to travel again.
I've been fortunate enough to have visited several countries in Europe and Asia, but the map of unvisited countries and the empty space in my passport gnaws at my desire to travel. Travelling forces you to break free from the comfort of routine life and embrace new experiences (and people if you're lucky...). Regardless of the destination, every trip for me has been a lesson in independence, creativity and endurance. Plus, to encounter the generosity and genuine friendliness of strangers whilst visiting a poorer country is a humbling experience, it gives a refreshing perspective to life.
The tourism of death. Travelling the globe is often about visiting the burial places of renowned dead people. From top to bottom: Reverently file past the embalmed body of Ho Chi Minh in Hanoi, Vietnam; Take a donkey ride to the burial place of the Pharaohs at the Valley of the Kings in Luxor, Egypt; Check out Napoleon’s oversized coffin (and the ceiling paintjob) in Paris, France; No dead people, but the Museum of Natural History, New York, USA is a remarkable resting place for dinosaurs and animals from across the globe and history.
The past week has been bloody hectic, but now that it's over, I can concentrate on packing etc. for my impending trip. Here are a few sites that I use for my travel plans:
Tickets: Cheaptickets, Kayak and Expedia (also for accommodation)
Accommodation: Hostelworld, Venere
Avoid the horrors of "Seat 29E" (I highly recommend viewing the hilarious, original customer complaint by clicking the link to the PDF) by using Seatguru to make the best choice for your airplane seat.
For those overpackers amongst us, pack your luggage efficiently and keep your shirts wrinkle-free by following this diagram and these tips on "bundle wrapping".
If you are travelling soon, keep safe, have fun and be nice to any Aussies you might meet along the way.
Before he left the States recently, Ex-flatmate was kind enough to give me a book entitled "Conversational Spanish in 7 Days", which should make my Spain travels considerably easier. I'm not entirely confident of the book's 7 day claim, but if a Spaniard should ask me "Puede cambiar el neumatico?" I can definitely say "Si".
9 December 2007
World's apart
December in Boston versus December in Sydney.
Longing for Sun's warmth v. Drinking beers in the sun.
The delicious crunch of snow under footed boots v. Dry, squeaking beach-sand under toes.
Cosy dinners, hearty soups v. Pool-side mangoes and watermelon cubes.
The wet of misted breath v. The moist air of evening summer storms.
Crisp winter air v. Flies, fish 'n chips and First-class cricket.
New friends, old stories v. Old mates, new tales.
Solo iPod grooving v. The moshing masses at outdoor festivals.
Branches, powerfully stark, bare v. Gumtrees green, shady, scented.
Boston. Sydney. December's apart.
Longing for Sun's warmth v. Drinking beers in the sun.
The delicious crunch of snow under footed boots v. Dry, squeaking beach-sand under toes.
Cosy dinners, hearty soups v. Pool-side mangoes and watermelon cubes.
The wet of misted breath v. The moist air of evening summer storms.
Crisp winter air v. Flies, fish 'n chips and First-class cricket.
New friends, old stories v. Old mates, new tales.
Solo iPod grooving v. The moshing masses at outdoor festivals.
Branches, powerfully stark, bare v. Gumtrees green, shady, scented.
Boston. Sydney. December's apart.
21 November 2007
We come in peace
According to the US government, I'm an alien. A legal non-immigrant alien with working privileges actually.
One of the first things you need to do when starting work in the US is to get a social security number (SSN). When dealing with gas, real estate, phone companies etc. for the first time, your SSN is a crucial component for a smooth transaction. Having a SSN is important. Without it, you can't get paid.
One of the first things I did after arriving in Boston back in March was to catch the subway (known as the 'T') to SSN headquarters in downtown Boston. As a government building, the usual strict security procedures were observed upon entering. After dutifully emptying my pockets to be X-rayed, I found myself waiting in a standard office-grey processing centre that housed the SSN bureaucrats. As I sat with all the other aliens, subdued alien conversations in Spanish, Chinese and what seemed like Russian filled my ear.
I expected a lengthy waiting period but was pleasantly surprised by the very efficient and quick processing of my application. In little time I was told my SSN would be sent to me in 4 weeks or so, and I was back out in the cold, blustery weather and on the T heading home.
I like being an alien.
One of the first things you need to do when starting work in the US is to get a social security number (SSN). When dealing with gas, real estate, phone companies etc. for the first time, your SSN is a crucial component for a smooth transaction. Having a SSN is important. Without it, you can't get paid.
One of the first things I did after arriving in Boston back in March was to catch the subway (known as the 'T') to SSN headquarters in downtown Boston. As a government building, the usual strict security procedures were observed upon entering. After dutifully emptying my pockets to be X-rayed, I found myself waiting in a standard office-grey processing centre that housed the SSN bureaucrats. As I sat with all the other aliens, subdued alien conversations in Spanish, Chinese and what seemed like Russian filled my ear.
I expected a lengthy waiting period but was pleasantly surprised by the very efficient and quick processing of my application. In little time I was told my SSN would be sent to me in 4 weeks or so, and I was back out in the cold, blustery weather and on the T heading home.
I like being an alien.
9 November 2007
The Ex-flatmate Boston experience
With no signs of my misery disappearing, I thought I'd reflect on less depressing times. As mentioned previously, Ex-flatmate's recent visit was a highlight of my Boston existence so far.
Here are some highlights of the Ex-flatmate Boston visit:
- Chatting and just hanging out again. Poor Ex-flatmate. During his stay he had to cop a fair bit of complaining and venting from me. I haven't really had a chance to chat on such a personal level over here so it all kinda spewed out during our late night conversations. Gotta love those beer-induced existential crisis chats.
- Our trip to Maine for some 'leaf peeping'. For the uninitiated, leaf peeping is the raunchy act of going into the wilderness to see all the pretty autumn/fall foliage. Bradbury forest offered spectacular peak Fall viewing while Casco Bay at Wolfe's Neck Woods was more about quiet waterfront serenity than foliage. The Woods also gets the prestigious award for Best Bathroom at a State Park, it was surprisingly well-equipped (flushing toilet, hand-dryers) and impeccably clean, plus any park bathroom that doesn't smell like my incontinent Grandma's favourite armchair gets an enthusiastic thumbs up.
- On the freeway from Maine to Boston, we got a flat tyre that we embarrassingly didn't know how to change. To be fair, I did know the theory behind it but was foiled in practice by being unable to loosen the wheel nuts that initiates the whole process. The State Trooper that arrived at the scene, and who was obviously less than impressed with our tyre-changing inadequacies, gave me the tip to kick the tyre-iron to loosen the lugs. Oh yeah, turning the tyre-iron the correct way (counter-clockwise) to actually loosen the nuts was also sage advice.
- Dinner at Legal's Seafood after the Maine trip. If you go to Legal's, definitely go for their famous New England clam chowder and their banana and rum dessert.
- Ex-flatmate missing his flight and being forced to stay in Boston another night. Although it was an ultra-stressfest for Ex-flatmate, it was actually a fortuitous event since it allowed us to visit Matt Murphy's pub that night. I highly recommend the little Brookline Village pub. We went for the live music and weren't disappointed. Till closing time, we drunk tasty Harpoon Seasonal Ales, Speckled Hens, and enjoyed grooving to the funky/boogaloo sounds of B3 Kings. The band was solid and pumping all-round, but as a guitar player wannabe, I was particularly blown away with the amazing noodling of the lead guitarist.
Matt Murphy's is a small, intimate and stylishly dark pub with the most stressful bathroom location, ever. It's a one-person restroom (dunny in Aussie-speak) located right behind where the band plays. Getting to the dunny is the rookie part (just wait for a gap in songs, although that night their songs just seemed to flow to the next...), but exiting the bathroom successfully requires critical timing. A poorly executed bathroom break could end you trapped behind the band until you're brave enough and/or there's a sufficient break in the long set to drunkenly pick your way through the tangle of leads, amps, and musos in order to reach the safety of your seat. Oh, did I mention that the audience is eye-balling your every move during all this? But don't let the requirement of having a Bladder of Fortitude +10 put you off from Matt Murphy's. The music, ambiance and beer is well worth it.
- Ex-flatmate receiving his honorary doctorate from the esteemed centre of higher learning that is the Boston Beer Works. Although having received no formal training in chemistry, fluid dynamics, or any post-high school science whatsoever, Ex-flatmate's dissertation (scribbled on the table with beer and finger) on why the blueberries in his Blueberry Beer kept oscillating up and down his glass was, as far as I could understand, top notch (it involved some scientific mumbo-jumbo about gas bubbles collecting and dissipating on the blueberries affecting their buoyancy). True to the Scientific Method, it required a lot of beer drinking to test and validate his hypothesis on "The Entropic States of Ales and Lagers: A study on blueberry z-axis kinetics", which probably explained why we were the last two patrons to stumble out of the Works that night.
With current events seemingly stuck in a downward spiral it's hard to justify plodding along the path fate/luck/destiny/randomness has given, and knowing what really makes me happy is difficult to pin down. Sitting here, reminiscing, I remember lounging in the afternoon sun, watching squirrels, watching people, watching life tick past, chatting with a mate in the park. That's happiness.
Here are some highlights of the Ex-flatmate Boston visit:
- Chatting and just hanging out again. Poor Ex-flatmate. During his stay he had to cop a fair bit of complaining and venting from me. I haven't really had a chance to chat on such a personal level over here so it all kinda spewed out during our late night conversations. Gotta love those beer-induced existential crisis chats.
- Our trip to Maine for some 'leaf peeping'. For the uninitiated, leaf peeping is the raunchy act of going into the wilderness to see all the pretty autumn/fall foliage. Bradbury forest offered spectacular peak Fall viewing while Casco Bay at Wolfe's Neck Woods was more about quiet waterfront serenity than foliage. The Woods also gets the prestigious award for Best Bathroom at a State Park, it was surprisingly well-equipped (flushing toilet, hand-dryers) and impeccably clean, plus any park bathroom that doesn't smell like my incontinent Grandma's favourite armchair gets an enthusiastic thumbs up.
- On the freeway from Maine to Boston, we got a flat tyre that we embarrassingly didn't know how to change. To be fair, I did know the theory behind it but was foiled in practice by being unable to loosen the wheel nuts that initiates the whole process. The State Trooper that arrived at the scene, and who was obviously less than impressed with our tyre-changing inadequacies, gave me the tip to kick the tyre-iron to loosen the lugs. Oh yeah, turning the tyre-iron the correct way (counter-clockwise) to actually loosen the nuts was also sage advice.
- Dinner at Legal's Seafood after the Maine trip. If you go to Legal's, definitely go for their famous New England clam chowder and their banana and rum dessert.
- Ex-flatmate missing his flight and being forced to stay in Boston another night. Although it was an ultra-stressfest for Ex-flatmate, it was actually a fortuitous event since it allowed us to visit Matt Murphy's pub that night. I highly recommend the little Brookline Village pub. We went for the live music and weren't disappointed. Till closing time, we drunk tasty Harpoon Seasonal Ales, Speckled Hens, and enjoyed grooving to the funky/boogaloo sounds of B3 Kings. The band was solid and pumping all-round, but as a guitar player wannabe, I was particularly blown away with the amazing noodling of the lead guitarist.
Matt Murphy's is a small, intimate and stylishly dark pub with the most stressful bathroom location, ever. It's a one-person restroom (dunny in Aussie-speak) located right behind where the band plays. Getting to the dunny is the rookie part (just wait for a gap in songs, although that night their songs just seemed to flow to the next...), but exiting the bathroom successfully requires critical timing. A poorly executed bathroom break could end you trapped behind the band until you're brave enough and/or there's a sufficient break in the long set to drunkenly pick your way through the tangle of leads, amps, and musos in order to reach the safety of your seat. Oh, did I mention that the audience is eye-balling your every move during all this? But don't let the requirement of having a Bladder of Fortitude +10 put you off from Matt Murphy's. The music, ambiance and beer is well worth it.
- Ex-flatmate receiving his honorary doctorate from the esteemed centre of higher learning that is the Boston Beer Works. Although having received no formal training in chemistry, fluid dynamics, or any post-high school science whatsoever, Ex-flatmate's dissertation (scribbled on the table with beer and finger) on why the blueberries in his Blueberry Beer kept oscillating up and down his glass was, as far as I could understand, top notch (it involved some scientific mumbo-jumbo about gas bubbles collecting and dissipating on the blueberries affecting their buoyancy). True to the Scientific Method, it required a lot of beer drinking to test and validate his hypothesis on "The Entropic States of Ales and Lagers: A study on blueberry z-axis kinetics", which probably explained why we were the last two patrons to stumble out of the Works that night.
With current events seemingly stuck in a downward spiral it's hard to justify plodding along the path fate/luck/destiny/randomness has given, and knowing what really makes me happy is difficult to pin down. Sitting here, reminiscing, I remember lounging in the afternoon sun, watching squirrels, watching people, watching life tick past, chatting with a mate in the park. That's happiness.
31 October 2007
Halloween meets Happiness & Cyanide
Halloween is a non-event in Australia so it's been interesting to see people of all ages dressed up in crazy costumes on the T or the kids trick-or-treating in Boston. They really love it here. Someone even put a few of the iconic carved pumpkins on my building stoop the other day which was very quaint, but all in all, I can't say that I really 'get' the whole Halloween thing.
27 October 2007
iRun
If you're a health conscious, body mass index inspecting type of person (e.g gay), there's a good chance that you have an established workout regime that keeps things taut and trim. Maybe part of that regime is pounding away on the treadmill watching the 'Calories burned' counter painfully ticking up as you repeat your prayers for the 30 min run-time to be over already. The grating whine of the machine's rubber conveyer, the uninspiring gym interior, the person sweating and panting away next to you, not the most appealing way to burn off that afternoon chocolate is it?
I used to be a treadmill guy but am now totally converted to running outside. Try it and you just may find it more invigorating and satisfying than gym-running. Despite having to negotiate oblivious drivers and the occasional dog turd, going for a 'real' run sure as hell beats the dreaded treadmill grind. When I was doing my PhD, myself and a few other workmates used to go for runs during lunchtimes twice a week. We used to run along Rushcutters Bay, or through the Botanic gardens, along the beautiful waterfront of Sydney harbour, around Mrs. Macquaries chair and the Opera house.
Despite burning calves and desperate breaths, running on a clear spring day with the Sydney Harbour bridge in sight, and with the mesmerising ocean backdrop, was bloody awesome. With the endorphins pumping it was bliss.
As a reward to myself for submitting my PhD thesis I bought an 8 GB iPod nano (2nd generation) which I love. Purchase of the Nike+ running kit quickly followed. The kit consists of a sensor that is placed in your shoe, which measures distance travelled and the data is transmitted real-time to a receiver that plugs into the bottom of the iPod. Over at the Nike site they have a nice video illustrating how the kit works, but the kit basically makes your iPod into a fancy pedometer with audio feedback that tracks your progress ("5 minutes to go!") and of course provides a playlist to run to. Once your iPod is synced with your computer after a run your data is transmitted to the Nike+ site where your data is stored, runs graphed, and you can set goals and see how your runs fare against all the other Nike+ users around the globe. This global comparison/rank thing is actually pretty cool.
Nike insist that use of the kit requires purchase of their shoes, which have a section in the sole to hold the sensor. You don't need to buy those shoes. I just put the sensor in a small plastic bag for protection against the elements and use packing tape to attach it to the tongue of my shoe, underneath the laces. It works fine and the distances are amazingly accurate when compared to Gmaps Pedometer, a very handy tool to calculate the distance of your runs. More do-it-yourself tips on how to attach the Nike+ sensor to your shoe can be found at Podophile.
As part of the Nike+ kit, you can program a 'Powersong' to play when you hold down the centre button of your iPod. It's supposed to psyche you up and encourage you to work through the burn man. Mine's Champion by the Australian band, Grinspoon. It's a bristling, amped rock tune that is great to run to, hear for yourself!.
I miss the harbour runs in Sydney, but one extra incentive for running in Boston occurs after my run. It's when I arrive back at my apartment, panting, sweating and revelling in the sports-induced endorphins bouncing around in my brain. In this slightly joy-frenzied state I plop down on the stairs leading into my building, stretch out my legs and look. On my stoop I see branches of the tree in front of me, hypnotically swaying in the breeze, leaves rustling. Lazy clouds stream by in the overhead twilight sky. There's always a background hum of light traffic passing by. A pair of old ladies clutching grocery bags amble home. Several college girls pass, their conversation punctuated with delighted squeals and smiles. Cyclists, dogwalkers, individuals of all dispositions go by. It's people-watching at its best.
Of course the cute boys cruising past automatically capture my attention. Some are running, others have their girlfriends in tow, sometimes they pass by ensconced in their personal iPod world. It never ceases to amaze me how effortlessly hot some guys are and how they continue to stream past. Not all pass by however. Today I spied a hot, young professional looking guy, black collared shirt, black pants, sandy hair messed up in that careful kinda way walking down the street. Way out of my league. Still, I watched with interest as he turned and entered my building. Sweat drippng down my face, lounging on the steps, iPod blasting, I looked up and gave a small smile and nod of the head. Not flirting exactly, more of a polite acknowledgment to a fellow tenant. A polite return smile and nod from cute guy. No Sydney harbour views today, but there, sitting in the evening Fall twilight, I'm content.
I used to be a treadmill guy but am now totally converted to running outside. Try it and you just may find it more invigorating and satisfying than gym-running. Despite having to negotiate oblivious drivers and the occasional dog turd, going for a 'real' run sure as hell beats the dreaded treadmill grind. When I was doing my PhD, myself and a few other workmates used to go for runs during lunchtimes twice a week. We used to run along Rushcutters Bay, or through the Botanic gardens, along the beautiful waterfront of Sydney harbour, around Mrs. Macquaries chair and the Opera house.
Sydney Harbour run loop. It’s about a 7 km (4.3 mi) run.
Despite burning calves and desperate breaths, running on a clear spring day with the Sydney Harbour bridge in sight, and with the mesmerising ocean backdrop, was bloody awesome. With the endorphins pumping it was bliss.
As a reward to myself for submitting my PhD thesis I bought an 8 GB iPod nano (2nd generation) which I love. Purchase of the Nike+ running kit quickly followed. The kit consists of a sensor that is placed in your shoe, which measures distance travelled and the data is transmitted real-time to a receiver that plugs into the bottom of the iPod. Over at the Nike site they have a nice video illustrating how the kit works, but the kit basically makes your iPod into a fancy pedometer with audio feedback that tracks your progress ("5 minutes to go!") and of course provides a playlist to run to. Once your iPod is synced with your computer after a run your data is transmitted to the Nike+ site where your data is stored, runs graphed, and you can set goals and see how your runs fare against all the other Nike+ users around the globe. This global comparison/rank thing is actually pretty cool.
Nike insist that use of the kit requires purchase of their shoes, which have a section in the sole to hold the sensor. You don't need to buy those shoes. I just put the sensor in a small plastic bag for protection against the elements and use packing tape to attach it to the tongue of my shoe, underneath the laces. It works fine and the distances are amazingly accurate when compared to Gmaps Pedometer, a very handy tool to calculate the distance of your runs. More do-it-yourself tips on how to attach the Nike+ sensor to your shoe can be found at Podophile.
As part of the Nike+ kit, you can program a 'Powersong' to play when you hold down the centre button of your iPod. It's supposed to psyche you up and encourage you to work through the burn man. Mine's Champion by the Australian band, Grinspoon. It's a bristling, amped rock tune that is great to run to, hear for yourself!.
I miss the harbour runs in Sydney, but one extra incentive for running in Boston occurs after my run. It's when I arrive back at my apartment, panting, sweating and revelling in the sports-induced endorphins bouncing around in my brain. In this slightly joy-frenzied state I plop down on the stairs leading into my building, stretch out my legs and look. On my stoop I see branches of the tree in front of me, hypnotically swaying in the breeze, leaves rustling. Lazy clouds stream by in the overhead twilight sky. There's always a background hum of light traffic passing by. A pair of old ladies clutching grocery bags amble home. Several college girls pass, their conversation punctuated with delighted squeals and smiles. Cyclists, dogwalkers, individuals of all dispositions go by. It's people-watching at its best.
Of course the cute boys cruising past automatically capture my attention. Some are running, others have their girlfriends in tow, sometimes they pass by ensconced in their personal iPod world. It never ceases to amaze me how effortlessly hot some guys are and how they continue to stream past. Not all pass by however. Today I spied a hot, young professional looking guy, black collared shirt, black pants, sandy hair messed up in that careful kinda way walking down the street. Way out of my league. Still, I watched with interest as he turned and entered my building. Sweat drippng down my face, lounging on the steps, iPod blasting, I looked up and gave a small smile and nod of the head. Not flirting exactly, more of a polite acknowledgment to a fellow tenant. A polite return smile and nod from cute guy. No Sydney harbour views today, but there, sitting in the evening Fall twilight, I'm content.
19 October 2007
Flatmates again
Sure I'm in dire need of a liver transplant, and my brain has been significantly pickled in a bath of alcohol-infused cerebrospinal fluid, but it's been a helluva past few days!
Ex-flatmate has since left Boston but his brief stay with me has been the highlight of my six months in Boston so far. It was a surreal experience to see Ex-flatmate in Boston, showing him around and introducing him to my new friends and life here. Detailed blogging of his stay will hopefully eventuate in the coming weeks, but highlights include: 'leaf peeping' in Maine; getting a flat tyre on a major freeway on our return from Maine; playing tour guide and taking Ex-flatmate to my favourite eating haunts; exploring new bars and pubs; chilling out to awesome live music at Matt Murphy's pub; and seeing the Isabella Gardner Museum. Also, Ex-flatmate missing his flight out of Boston and being forced to stay another day was not quite a highlight, but certainly memorable.
Boston is a great city to live in, it's small and easy to get around, has quaint, quiet neighbourhoods that gives the city character and charm, and has a decent selection of places that can be spent dancing, drinking or hanging out during the night. Despite all this, pangs of homesickness have inevitably hit, occurring when things at work have gone pear-shaped or when I'm forced to spend nights solo. These are dangerous times where the mind dwells to dark thoughts and pines for the good old days back in ever so distant Sydney, a familiar home where the comfort of family and close mates beckon. When Ex-flatmate departed it triggered a new wave of homesickness as I know that it will be many months before we'll hang out together again. Sure we can share laughs over the phone or even email, but how can one compare musing about life and love over a beer in a cosy pub to chatting via Skype? You just can't. The saving grace is that I've made some good friends in Boston and we have loads of fun together, but sometimes it's not just quite the same as going out with Ex-flatmate et al.
Back in Sydney, I know Ex-flatmate will miss the States. Prior to Boston he had partied his way through San Francisco and New York in a frenzy of random fun events, chance encounters with interesting people and generally had a blast doing what we all seldom really do on a day-to-day basis, that is, taking time out to enjoy life and be happy. It's been a life-altering experience for him on many different levels and he tells me that he'll start a blog and write about it, so when the time comes I'll link to him if he wants. Should be an intriguing read and I'm looking forward to it.
Now my tourist guide stint is over and it's back to business as usual. My flatmates now again are just my pets, 'Fetch' the turtle and my (unnamed) Siamese fighting fish. But that's OK because there will always be the next visit by Ex-flatmate. Besides, I can look over the photos we took during his stay, remember, and laugh.
Ex-flatmate has since left Boston but his brief stay with me has been the highlight of my six months in Boston so far. It was a surreal experience to see Ex-flatmate in Boston, showing him around and introducing him to my new friends and life here. Detailed blogging of his stay will hopefully eventuate in the coming weeks, but highlights include: 'leaf peeping' in Maine; getting a flat tyre on a major freeway on our return from Maine; playing tour guide and taking Ex-flatmate to my favourite eating haunts; exploring new bars and pubs; chilling out to awesome live music at Matt Murphy's pub; and seeing the Isabella Gardner Museum. Also, Ex-flatmate missing his flight out of Boston and being forced to stay another day was not quite a highlight, but certainly memorable.
Boston is a great city to live in, it's small and easy to get around, has quaint, quiet neighbourhoods that gives the city character and charm, and has a decent selection of places that can be spent dancing, drinking or hanging out during the night. Despite all this, pangs of homesickness have inevitably hit, occurring when things at work have gone pear-shaped or when I'm forced to spend nights solo. These are dangerous times where the mind dwells to dark thoughts and pines for the good old days back in ever so distant Sydney, a familiar home where the comfort of family and close mates beckon. When Ex-flatmate departed it triggered a new wave of homesickness as I know that it will be many months before we'll hang out together again. Sure we can share laughs over the phone or even email, but how can one compare musing about life and love over a beer in a cosy pub to chatting via Skype? You just can't. The saving grace is that I've made some good friends in Boston and we have loads of fun together, but sometimes it's not just quite the same as going out with Ex-flatmate et al.
Back in Sydney, I know Ex-flatmate will miss the States. Prior to Boston he had partied his way through San Francisco and New York in a frenzy of random fun events, chance encounters with interesting people and generally had a blast doing what we all seldom really do on a day-to-day basis, that is, taking time out to enjoy life and be happy. It's been a life-altering experience for him on many different levels and he tells me that he'll start a blog and write about it, so when the time comes I'll link to him if he wants. Should be an intriguing read and I'm looking forward to it.
Now my tourist guide stint is over and it's back to business as usual. My flatmates now again are just my pets, 'Fetch' the turtle and my (unnamed) Siamese fighting fish. But that's OK because there will always be the next visit by Ex-flatmate. Besides, I can look over the photos we took during his stay, remember, and laugh.
Fetch the turtle. Despite the looming close-up shot, Fetch is still a baby and only 2 inches long.
My other flatmate is a Siamese Fighting Fish (they call them Bettas here in Boston).
14 September 2007
Two things
Two events made me happy today:
1) I narrowly escaped being hit by a car.
It was a gorgeously crisp clear morning and I was strolling to work as usual, enjoying the sounds of my beloved iPod. Near my place, a black BMW would soon turn left at an intersection, which is fine, except that I was crossing the road at the time.
I had just arrived at the pedestrian crossing marked along the intersection when I saw the car come down the one way street from the opposite direction I was heading. It obeyed the Stop sign at the intersection, before moving forward to stop in the middle of the intersection. Having seen the car stop, I assumed the driver had seen me and had stopped to allow me to cross, as the law dictates. Bzzzt, wrong. I was in the middle of the road when the car accelerated abruptly, turning left, hurtling towards me.
Instant horror. One second passed and I was frozen in panic. No time to respond except to put my hand out instinctively. Futilely. One and a half seconds pass. The black speeding blur observed in my periphery resolves into a solid black bumper bar less than an inch away from my leg. Two seconds. The shiny BMW badge is close enough to touch. My mind is still frozen but I take a step away from the vehicle, an automated recoil to danger. I exhale deeply and look at the driver who is apologizing profusely from their window. The sounds from my iPod almost drown out their apology. Three more seconds pass before my mind acknowledges that I haven't been run down, I wave to the driver to say that I'm OK and continue across the road and down the street. Looking back at the intersection, I see that the car hasn't moved. Apparently I'm not the only one who was a little shaken this fine morning.
Less than 15 seconds from my escape the adrenaline is coursing systemically, I notice my hands are shaking. I'm not mad at the driver, I'm grateful they managed to stop in time. I'm a little numb but happy. My stroll to work resumes and my iPod plays uninterrupted, it's "I Love You 'Cause I Have To" by Dogs Die in Hot Cars.
2) Ace might be coming to visit me in early October.
First Ex-flatmate springs the news that he's coming and now Ace. I'm unbelievably excited at the prospect of seeing them soon.
1) I narrowly escaped being hit by a car.
It was a gorgeously crisp clear morning and I was strolling to work as usual, enjoying the sounds of my beloved iPod. Near my place, a black BMW would soon turn left at an intersection, which is fine, except that I was crossing the road at the time.
I had just arrived at the pedestrian crossing marked along the intersection when I saw the car come down the one way street from the opposite direction I was heading. It obeyed the Stop sign at the intersection, before moving forward to stop in the middle of the intersection. Having seen the car stop, I assumed the driver had seen me and had stopped to allow me to cross, as the law dictates. Bzzzt, wrong. I was in the middle of the road when the car accelerated abruptly, turning left, hurtling towards me.
Instant horror. One second passed and I was frozen in panic. No time to respond except to put my hand out instinctively. Futilely. One and a half seconds pass. The black speeding blur observed in my periphery resolves into a solid black bumper bar less than an inch away from my leg. Two seconds. The shiny BMW badge is close enough to touch. My mind is still frozen but I take a step away from the vehicle, an automated recoil to danger. I exhale deeply and look at the driver who is apologizing profusely from their window. The sounds from my iPod almost drown out their apology. Three more seconds pass before my mind acknowledges that I haven't been run down, I wave to the driver to say that I'm OK and continue across the road and down the street. Looking back at the intersection, I see that the car hasn't moved. Apparently I'm not the only one who was a little shaken this fine morning.
Less than 15 seconds from my escape the adrenaline is coursing systemically, I notice my hands are shaking. I'm not mad at the driver, I'm grateful they managed to stop in time. I'm a little numb but happy. My stroll to work resumes and my iPod plays uninterrupted, it's "I Love You 'Cause I Have To" by Dogs Die in Hot Cars.
2) Ace might be coming to visit me in early October.
First Ex-flatmate springs the news that he's coming and now Ace. I'm unbelievably excited at the prospect of seeing them soon.
2 September 2007
Identity crisis
The start of September means a flurry of activity in Boston. It's the end of summer vacation and the start of a new college (university in Aussie-speak) year. Clusters of college students roam the sidewalks (footpaths in Aussie-speak), and rented moving vans clog the streets. It's as if there's a U-Haul rental van/truck/trailer convention in town. Seriously, is there actually any other bloody vehicle-hire company in this place? Oh yeah, Americans don't understand the use of 'hire' in this context, they use 'rental'.
September has been a period of time where the college-town Boston reawakens, and is also an opportune moment to enjoy looking around at the cute new college-boys, and lament about lost youth. One brief moment that made me feel less ancient occurred at dinner the other night when a waitress decided to engage in polite conversation and mistook me for a Freshman (First-year in Aussiespeak). For one brief spark I was chuffed at the comment, until I suspiciously wondered if this was a tip-garnering exercise, so I quietly corrected her that I had actually finished grad school (i.e. my PhD studies) and thus immediately felt my age again. Yes I am a cynical, jaded bastard. And yes, I did leave a good tip thank you very much.
If a cute waiter asks me if I'm a Freshman in the future, I think I'll lie. Who knows right? wink, wink (shyeah right..). Who cares about an old, bitter postdoc anyway? Ewww, just reading that last sentence turned me off (myself? what? now I'm confused). I'm not actually that old, but I guess it's that premature-senility kicking in again...
September has been a period of time where the college-town Boston reawakens, and is also an opportune moment to enjoy looking around at the cute new college-boys, and lament about lost youth. One brief moment that made me feel less ancient occurred at dinner the other night when a waitress decided to engage in polite conversation and mistook me for a Freshman (First-year in Aussiespeak). For one brief spark I was chuffed at the comment, until I suspiciously wondered if this was a tip-garnering exercise, so I quietly corrected her that I had actually finished grad school (i.e. my PhD studies) and thus immediately felt my age again. Yes I am a cynical, jaded bastard. And yes, I did leave a good tip thank you very much.
If a cute waiter asks me if I'm a Freshman in the future, I think I'll lie. Who knows right? wink, wink (shyeah right..). Who cares about an old, bitter postdoc anyway? Ewww, just reading that last sentence turned me off (myself? what? now I'm confused). I'm not actually that old, but I guess it's that premature-senility kicking in again...
17 June 2007
Into the Berkshires
Work seems to be consuming my Boston life already. It's been bloody hectic these past few weeks due to ongoing experiments. Plus the pressure to present some positive results at the weekly group meeting, or risk getting grilled by The Boss, is always a prompt motivator to be in the lab doing stuff. With scientific research, experiments don't work 90% of the time (well for me anyway...), so most of your time is spent tweaking the conditions for one experiment in order to get it working. This means there's a lot of repeating experiments which can be incredibly frustrating and demoralising. Coupled with the constant threat of a verbal crushing by The Boss, it has been getting increasingly stressful. I'm very conscious that the honeymoon-period of protection that is conferred by being the new guy is wearing thin in the eyes of The Boss.
In non-work news, made my first sojourn out of Boston last weekend. Went with Bay-buddy, his wife and another postdoc in the lab on a 2 and 1/2 hour drive west of Boston to the Berkshire region of Massachusetts that borders on New York. We spent the day hiking in the area around Bash Bish falls and Mt Alander. It was a fairly moderate hike of about 7 miles I think (11.2 km) up fairly steep terrain for the most part, so I was glad that we were only lugging day-packs and not rucksacks for camping.
I had a great time being out in the US wilderness for the first time and I really enjoyed the tranquil and my somewhat sweaty reconnection with Nature. The only thing that bugged me was that the map they provide at the beginning of the track sucked big-time as it wasn't very detailed. So if you're ever heading out there for a hike, I'd recommend getting a decent map of the trails elsewhere before you go.
I also saw my first chipmunk running around the bush which excited me greatly. There was this fuzzy little brown and black ball capering noisily through the undergrowth and when I excitedly pointed it out to Bay-buddy and asked him what it was, he glanced up for all of 1 second and in a completely unimpressed tone said "It's a chipmunk". Then he turned back to cursing at the map. I assume now that chipmunks are quite common. Well I was excited... Glad I never told him how cool I thought it was to see squirrels running around Boston.
So this was my animal spotting list: chipmunks, a small snake, two frogs, a green and yellow caterpillar which plopped onto my arm from the sky, and many birds. Again, I got childishly excited when the tap-tap-tapping sound that echoed through the woods was identified by Bay-buddy to be a woodpecker. A lyrebird calling, and not a woodpecker pecking, is the norm in the Aussie bush: hence my excitement.
Leave a comment if you spot the wildlife in the photo (it's actually pretty easy).
In non-work news, made my first sojourn out of Boston last weekend. Went with Bay-buddy, his wife and another postdoc in the lab on a 2 and 1/2 hour drive west of Boston to the Berkshire region of Massachusetts that borders on New York. We spent the day hiking in the area around Bash Bish falls and Mt Alander. It was a fairly moderate hike of about 7 miles I think (11.2 km) up fairly steep terrain for the most part, so I was glad that we were only lugging day-packs and not rucksacks for camping.
The falls were only a few metres high and not that spectacular, but hey...
I had a great time being out in the US wilderness for the first time and I really enjoyed the tranquil and my somewhat sweaty reconnection with Nature. The only thing that bugged me was that the map they provide at the beginning of the track sucked big-time as it wasn't very detailed. So if you're ever heading out there for a hike, I'd recommend getting a decent map of the trails elsewhere before you go.
Ferns and fungi, what's not to like?
We crossed into New York going to the South Taconic trail and Mt Alander.
I also saw my first chipmunk running around the bush which excited me greatly. There was this fuzzy little brown and black ball capering noisily through the undergrowth and when I excitedly pointed it out to Bay-buddy and asked him what it was, he glanced up for all of 1 second and in a completely unimpressed tone said "It's a chipmunk". Then he turned back to cursing at the map. I assume now that chipmunks are quite common. Well I was excited... Glad I never told him how cool I thought it was to see squirrels running around Boston.
"How's the serenity?" A small stream from the falls.
So this was my animal spotting list: chipmunks, a small snake, two frogs, a green and yellow caterpillar which plopped onto my arm from the sky, and many birds. Again, I got childishly excited when the tap-tap-tapping sound that echoed through the woods was identified by Bay-buddy to be a woodpecker. A lyrebird calling, and not a woodpecker pecking, is the norm in the Aussie bush: hence my excitement.
(Left) Aaaagggh snake!; (Right) Spot the wildlife...
Leave a comment if you spot the wildlife in the photo (it's actually pretty easy).
8 June 2007
Reinvention
People relocate their lives for many reasons. For some, it's simply for a new job. For others, a new environment offers the chance to find an ill-defined 'something' in life that has previously eluded them: it's the opportunity to be the person you'd always wanted to be. For me, moving to the States is primarily to broaden my career, although I suspect a sprinkling of the latter is also true.
Moving abroad is an opportunity to start fresh. It's a clean slate ready to be painted in whatever shade you desire. You can reinvent how you wish to be viewed by others and leave behind tired routines and bad habits. It seems a nice romantic ideal and I wonder how much of it is true. Of course this will be true for certain people like refugees, but what about for people like me who move between first-world countries?
Although a new continent may offer the opportunity for reinvention, can one simply find the unfulfilled aspects of their life in a new city? Most probably not. I suspect it's more the case of "different shit, same smell".
At my stage in life, a persons personality is already hardwired into set patterns of thought and behaviour, and to positively change this thinking is a slow and difficult process for the most part. Living elsewhere may influence certain perceptions, but is it enough of a catalyst for the self-reinvention process such that the happiness which has eluded someone in their native country is found in their new home? I wish this was the case but I doubt it.
I've moved to Boston with few expectations. For me, it's not about reinvention, although I'm taking this period of change as a chance to re-examine the spiritual aspect of my life. No, I'm not talking about religion, but the spirituality of being at peace with yourself, being content with the past and accepting of an uncertain future.
It's not reinvention that I seek, but reinvigoration.
Moving abroad is an opportunity to start fresh. It's a clean slate ready to be painted in whatever shade you desire. You can reinvent how you wish to be viewed by others and leave behind tired routines and bad habits. It seems a nice romantic ideal and I wonder how much of it is true. Of course this will be true for certain people like refugees, but what about for people like me who move between first-world countries?
Although a new continent may offer the opportunity for reinvention, can one simply find the unfulfilled aspects of their life in a new city? Most probably not. I suspect it's more the case of "different shit, same smell".
At my stage in life, a persons personality is already hardwired into set patterns of thought and behaviour, and to positively change this thinking is a slow and difficult process for the most part. Living elsewhere may influence certain perceptions, but is it enough of a catalyst for the self-reinvention process such that the happiness which has eluded someone in their native country is found in their new home? I wish this was the case but I doubt it.
I've moved to Boston with few expectations. For me, it's not about reinvention, although I'm taking this period of change as a chance to re-examine the spiritual aspect of my life. No, I'm not talking about religion, but the spirituality of being at peace with yourself, being content with the past and accepting of an uncertain future.
It's not reinvention that I seek, but reinvigoration.
5 June 2007
New tech for Ben, hooray!
Last week my laptop died. State-of-the-art 4 and 1/2 years ago, my Dell Inspiron 8200 is no more. I was simultaneously mortified and elated when I pressed the power button and heard a pathetic whine of a dead hard-drive instead of the reassuring clicking noises of a healthy drive. No-one believes me but I knew that the death of my laptop was imminent which is why I backed up my files the week before, thereby saving myself a crap load of lost-file grief.
The reason for my partial elation upon the demise of my Dell was because I hated its appearance (cheap looking black plastic case), and despised lugging it around (with its cumbersome chunky power pack, it was over 4 kg/8.8 lbs). Despite the unseemly aesthetics however, with all my folders, files and web-browser bookmarks arranged to my liking, plus the fact that I found the XP-professional operating system to be absolutely great, I really grew fond of my trusty Dell. It was a case of what was inside that counted and not looks.
So when my faithful Dell died, I was stranded. No computer=no internet at home. Combined with no TV, no radio, no-one to chat with at home, for about a week, it was unpleasant. The only thing that kept me sane during that time was my beloved iPod, my copy of the novel 1984 by Orwell, hanging out with Bing and Lulu for a bit, and sadly enough being crazily busy at work. Money is a bit tight at the moment so I didn't want to amuse myself by going out too much. If you think pfft, what a wuss, you try going from work to a home without internet/human interaction/radio/friend network nearby/familiar local hang-outs for a week and see how it goes.
But the technology-induced isolation at home is no more! Now I've got Triple J radio and billions of webpages to surf at home again. I'm now typing away on my shiny new Apple Macbook Pro. I've used Macs extensively at work so I had decided a while ago that my next computer would be a Mac.
I only received my new Mac today and one word sums up the notebook in terms of functionality and looks: elegant.
Of course Apple's OS operating system is quite different to Windows, but OS X is easy to learn. What also impressed me was how quickly I received my MacBook. Ordered it late on Friday and got it this morning, and having been provided a FedEx tracking number, it's pretty amazing that you can follow the whole procedure (OK from my amazement, it's clear that I don't get many FedEx deliveries, well not deliveries that I'm really hanging out for and obsessively tracking anyway):
Anyway, my MacBook Pro arrived earlier than some software that I ordered a day earlier that was being shipped locally, so I was impressed.
So farewell Dell old mate, I thought I'd commemorate the memories of lugging you across various continents, bashing out a PhD thesis on you, giving many Powerpoint presentations on you, and playing countless hours of music through your tinny speakers over the years, with a tasty local beer (or 3), as documented by the iSight camera on your hopefully worthy Apple replacement.
Cheers.
Update, Wednesday morning: As a slight kick to the nuts, I'm disappointed that the new line of MacBook Pros got released yesterday, just as I received my older version notebook: same price, extra memory/faster processor speed. I was vaguely aware of their release but had no idea it was so bloody imminent. In the words of 24's Jack Bauer, dammit!
Right, back to waiting for the gas company guy to arrive and change my meter. Apparently he's due sometime between 8am-12pm... A freakin' four hour window? Dammit!
The reason for my partial elation upon the demise of my Dell was because I hated its appearance (cheap looking black plastic case), and despised lugging it around (with its cumbersome chunky power pack, it was over 4 kg/8.8 lbs). Despite the unseemly aesthetics however, with all my folders, files and web-browser bookmarks arranged to my liking, plus the fact that I found the XP-professional operating system to be absolutely great, I really grew fond of my trusty Dell. It was a case of what was inside that counted and not looks.
So when my faithful Dell died, I was stranded. No computer=no internet at home. Combined with no TV, no radio, no-one to chat with at home, for about a week, it was unpleasant. The only thing that kept me sane during that time was my beloved iPod, my copy of the novel 1984 by Orwell, hanging out with Bing and Lulu for a bit, and sadly enough being crazily busy at work. Money is a bit tight at the moment so I didn't want to amuse myself by going out too much. If you think pfft, what a wuss, you try going from work to a home without internet/human interaction/radio/friend network nearby/familiar local hang-outs for a week and see how it goes.
But the technology-induced isolation at home is no more! Now I've got Triple J radio and billions of webpages to surf at home again. I'm now typing away on my shiny new Apple Macbook Pro. I've used Macs extensively at work so I had decided a while ago that my next computer would be a Mac.
I only received my new Mac today and one word sums up the notebook in terms of functionality and looks: elegant.
Of course Apple's OS operating system is quite different to Windows, but OS X is easy to learn. What also impressed me was how quickly I received my MacBook. Ordered it late on Friday and got it this morning, and having been provided a FedEx tracking number, it's pretty amazing that you can follow the whole procedure (OK from my amazement, it's clear that I don't get many FedEx deliveries, well not deliveries that I'm really hanging out for and obsessively tracking anyway):
Anyway, my MacBook Pro arrived earlier than some software that I ordered a day earlier that was being shipped locally, so I was impressed.
So farewell Dell old mate, I thought I'd commemorate the memories of lugging you across various continents, bashing out a PhD thesis on you, giving many Powerpoint presentations on you, and playing countless hours of music through your tinny speakers over the years, with a tasty local beer (or 3), as documented by the iSight camera on your hopefully worthy Apple replacement.
Cheers.
Update, Wednesday morning: As a slight kick to the nuts, I'm disappointed that the new line of MacBook Pros got released yesterday, just as I received my older version notebook: same price, extra memory/faster processor speed. I was vaguely aware of their release but had no idea it was so bloody imminent. In the words of 24's Jack Bauer, dammit!
Right, back to waiting for the gas company guy to arrive and change my meter. Apparently he's due sometime between 8am-12pm... A freakin' four hour window? Dammit!
18 May 2007
Priceless fun, episode 2
For episode 1, click here.
The 'interview' turned out to be a few questions over the counter with the Consul official behind some impressively thick (bullet proof?) glass and with the rest of the masses sitting 3 metres listening behind me. I was expecting a full on grilling-type interview where you had to convince them that you weren't actually trying to immigrate to the US, so it was a shock that the interview was so casual. Casual in a stern, no-nonsense, official way.
For some reason the presence of the crowd (aka other people sitting there waiting) at my back made me nervous answering the questions about the purpose and duration of my stay, and the few other standard queries, that were asked by the youngish American guy behind the glass. My nerves didn't affect my application luckily and soon my application was being given the OK. Time taken: 3 mins, max. Then it was back waiting (of course) before I was called to pay my issuance fee at the adjacent counter. It turned out that the cashier had overlooked my payment however and after 30 mins diligently listening for my number (which was never called) I went up and got it all sorted out. Given the very regimental and intimidating feel of all the proceedings, it took me about 10 mins to decide it was worth going up to ask what was going on. Wuss! I know. Soon however, I was struggling to pull open the metal door on my way out, I was weak with hunger, ahem, and escorted out of the building.
I was impressed at how efficient the Consulate were in issuing the visa after the interview process. After a Thursday morning interview I had my passport delivered on Monday by Platinum Express post. Time taken: 3 days or so, impressive, most impressive. That Monday morning when the delivery guy knocked on the door I was still in bed. The knocking instantly woke me up and I immediately knew it was my passport being delivered. I leaped out of bed, signed for the delivery, excitedly ripped open the satchel and gazed at the visa that covered an entire page of my passport.
It had all the usual stuff you'd expect on a visa, place of issue, my name and passport number but what immediately caught my eye was the heading 'Control number' with a list of digits underneath.
Control number, huh?
Two lines of thought ran through my head;
1. Does this mean I unwittingly received a brain-controlling implant during my visit to the US Consulate? o.O *adjusts tin-foil hat*
2. Being the nerd that I am, I thought Control, cool, Get Smart and Agent 86. I checked my delivery satchel for the Control Agent standard-issue shoe phone, but alas, there was none. You know, the hilarious 80's spy comedy TV show Get Smart? The Cone-of-silence? 99, the Chief and ...oh, nevermind...
Yeah, dunno what was going through my brain that morning but I had just gotten up if that's any defense.
I've always had the impression that a passport could not be damaged/modified in any way whatsoever, so it was strange to see a business sized envelope attached to the back cover of my passport with big-ass staples that defaced the distinctive and previously unblemished material of the passport cover. I forget what was printed on the envelope, but it had words to the effect of 'Do not open, US customs only' on the front, and at San Francisco airport I saw that only my visa forms were inside.
Five days after I received my visa, I was in Boston starting a new chapter of my life.
So that was my visa process, and in a nutshell;
Visa fees: $433
Train ticket to consulate: $3.60
Time spent completing the entire Visa process: Pricel.....oh shit, that's for Mastercard....
OK there's no excuse for that lame 'joke' *hangs head and shuffles away in shame to a dark corner*.
Here's an infinitely more amusing joke that is somewhat predictable but remains, priceless.
The 'interview' turned out to be a few questions over the counter with the Consul official behind some impressively thick (bullet proof?) glass and with the rest of the masses sitting 3 metres listening behind me. I was expecting a full on grilling-type interview where you had to convince them that you weren't actually trying to immigrate to the US, so it was a shock that the interview was so casual. Casual in a stern, no-nonsense, official way.
For some reason the presence of the crowd (aka other people sitting there waiting) at my back made me nervous answering the questions about the purpose and duration of my stay, and the few other standard queries, that were asked by the youngish American guy behind the glass. My nerves didn't affect my application luckily and soon my application was being given the OK. Time taken: 3 mins, max. Then it was back waiting (of course) before I was called to pay my issuance fee at the adjacent counter. It turned out that the cashier had overlooked my payment however and after 30 mins diligently listening for my number (which was never called) I went up and got it all sorted out. Given the very regimental and intimidating feel of all the proceedings, it took me about 10 mins to decide it was worth going up to ask what was going on. Wuss! I know. Soon however, I was struggling to pull open the metal door on my way out, I was weak with hunger, ahem, and escorted out of the building.
I was impressed at how efficient the Consulate were in issuing the visa after the interview process. After a Thursday morning interview I had my passport delivered on Monday by Platinum Express post. Time taken: 3 days or so, impressive, most impressive. That Monday morning when the delivery guy knocked on the door I was still in bed. The knocking instantly woke me up and I immediately knew it was my passport being delivered. I leaped out of bed, signed for the delivery, excitedly ripped open the satchel and gazed at the visa that covered an entire page of my passport.
It had all the usual stuff you'd expect on a visa, place of issue, my name and passport number but what immediately caught my eye was the heading 'Control number' with a list of digits underneath.
Control number, huh?
Two lines of thought ran through my head;
1. Does this mean I unwittingly received a brain-controlling implant during my visit to the US Consulate? o.O *adjusts tin-foil hat*
2. Being the nerd that I am, I thought Control, cool, Get Smart and Agent 86. I checked my delivery satchel for the Control Agent standard-issue shoe phone, but alas, there was none. You know, the hilarious 80's spy comedy TV show Get Smart? The Cone-of-silence? 99, the Chief and ...oh, nevermind...
Agent's 86 and 99. The old phone in the shoe trick. Gotta love that stunned-mullet look they both have.
Yeah, dunno what was going through my brain that morning but I had just gotten up if that's any defense.
I've always had the impression that a passport could not be damaged/modified in any way whatsoever, so it was strange to see a business sized envelope attached to the back cover of my passport with big-ass staples that defaced the distinctive and previously unblemished material of the passport cover. I forget what was printed on the envelope, but it had words to the effect of 'Do not open, US customs only' on the front, and at San Francisco airport I saw that only my visa forms were inside.
Five days after I received my visa, I was in Boston starting a new chapter of my life.
So that was my visa process, and in a nutshell;
Visa fees: $433
Train ticket to consulate: $3.60
Time spent completing the entire Visa process: Pricel.....oh shit, that's for Mastercard....
OK there's no excuse for that lame 'joke' *hangs head and shuffles away in shame to a dark corner*.
Here's an infinitely more amusing joke that is somewhat predictable but remains, priceless.
14 May 2007
Priceless fun, episode 1
Following from my dream about visa stress that I posted the other day, here's a recount about my real-life visa experience.
Getting a visa to the US can be a confusing experience. There are a plethora of forms and procedures that must be followed rigorously, and that have to be coordinated with the immigration specialist who is overseeing your application. The specialist in my case was from my current workplace.
There are two major classes of visas that can be applied for. An immigrant visa which means you want to live in the US permanently (think Green card), or a non-immigrant visa which is for a temporary stay. Within those two major categories, there are a number of different visa types that you apply for, depending on your profession, length of stay in the US and other factors. My visa is a non-immigrant J-1 visa, which is a type of foreign exchange visa, and is valid for 3 years.
The visa application forms all have official sounding names, like DS-2019, and on each document is information on how long it should take you to complete the form. How nice. For example, the 'estimated burden' noted at the top of DS-158 is one hour. Although it didn't take me an hour, that form was particularly annoying, as it required digging up long forgotten dates, phone numbers etc., in order to complete the work/education history questions in the form.
Aside from the forms there are the inevitable fees to pay in the visa process. Many fees to pay.
For a J-1 visa there's (in $AUD):
$ 126 SEVIS fee paid online.
$ 130 application fee paid at the post office
$ 136 issuance fee paid at the consulate
$ 14 Visapoint fee paid online
and an appropriate self addressed envelope (Express post, courier satchel for example, ~$ 12) for them to return your passport.
Plus in Australia, our passport photo size is not suitable for the application so I had to go get a US passport sized photo (5 cm squared) from a list of suggested places on their website, for ~$ 15.
For a student, all these fees add up to a severe dent in the monthly beer budget. $433 worth of beer to be more precise. Do you accept cash? Cha-ching!
After the application is in order you go for an interview at the Consulate, which you book using their online system called Visapoint ($14 fee thanks very much). The waiting time for an interview varies for each visa (up to 3-4 weeks); the US Department of State website lists current waiting times. I noticed that for a J-1 visa the Sydney Consulate only offered interviews once a week. Additionally, I found out the hard way that the Consulate is prone to shutting down for "routine maintenance" with very little notice, so if you need a visa, plan well ahead.
The US Consulate General in Sydney is high up in the MLC centre in the heart of the city, and not surprisingly, there is some serious security before you step a foot into the embassy. First off, the interview confirmation email tells you to not take any laptops, cell phones (that's mobiles in Aussie-speak) or any electronic equipment. Kinda strict huh?
No iPod for the inevitable waiting periods, how cruel.
Plus, before you go into the Consulate proper, which is high up in the tower, you go to a lower level for initial processing. It's there that you go through the first of two security checkpoints and where all bags get left with security (sheesh, don't people read instructions? I was a bit peeved that I actually could have taken a bag and iPod, which would have made the train journey into the city more bearable). 10 mins after walking into the 'pre-Consulate' I had my first wait. Time taken: 5 mins, not bad. It was for a brief interaction with someone who checked I had all the appropriate paperwork/fees paid, after which it was another wait for a security guard to escort me to the lift and send me up to the Consulate proper. Time taken: 5 mins, tolerable.
Another identification and security check, and then through a massively heavy metal door to grab a ticket and wait. A US flag flanked the heavy door, and the largish room was semi-divided into two similar looking waiting areas. Everyones attention was divided between the large LED screens lit with ticket numbers, and the people walking to the bank of counters along one wall. So I obediently took a number, and with gritted teeth I sat zombified under the harsh office lights with 30-40 other people, all perched on uniform gray plastic chairs, and watched the staff conscientiously stamping documents behind the counter. You could almost smell the ink-pads and copy-paper bureaucracy in the air. There was a large window with a fabulous view of the sunny cityscape near me, but due to the chairs orientation, only the back of my head enjoyed the view. Go figure.
Yes! My number flashes on the LED screens. Time taken: 10 mins, OK, considering all the people I see. I walked to the counter, handed over my documents which were whisked away and then told to rejoin the masses until I was called up for the interview. Again I wait.
The other people waiting look as bored as I do. There's a little quiet chatter and a surprising number of people are quite young. From what I gather, they are also exchange visa applicants for US summer camp leaders and the like, which explained why so many of them looked fairly sporty, tanned and pleasing to the eye. My number gets called again. Time taken: 45 mins, even with the nice scenery, not happy. Thinking how much I missed my iPod and getting hungry, very not happy.
I walk up to the counter, aware of the entire room watching my every step.
To be continued...
For episode 2, click here.
Getting a visa to the US can be a confusing experience. There are a plethora of forms and procedures that must be followed rigorously, and that have to be coordinated with the immigration specialist who is overseeing your application. The specialist in my case was from my current workplace.
There are two major classes of visas that can be applied for. An immigrant visa which means you want to live in the US permanently (think Green card), or a non-immigrant visa which is for a temporary stay. Within those two major categories, there are a number of different visa types that you apply for, depending on your profession, length of stay in the US and other factors. My visa is a non-immigrant J-1 visa, which is a type of foreign exchange visa, and is valid for 3 years.
The visa application forms all have official sounding names, like DS-2019, and on each document is information on how long it should take you to complete the form. How nice. For example, the 'estimated burden' noted at the top of DS-158 is one hour. Although it didn't take me an hour, that form was particularly annoying, as it required digging up long forgotten dates, phone numbers etc., in order to complete the work/education history questions in the form.
Aside from the forms there are the inevitable fees to pay in the visa process. Many fees to pay.
For a J-1 visa there's (in $AUD):
$ 126 SEVIS fee paid online.
$ 130 application fee paid at the post office
$ 136 issuance fee paid at the consulate
$ 14 Visapoint fee paid online
and an appropriate self addressed envelope (Express post, courier satchel for example, ~$ 12) for them to return your passport.
Plus in Australia, our passport photo size is not suitable for the application so I had to go get a US passport sized photo (5 cm squared) from a list of suggested places on their website, for ~$ 15.
For a student, all these fees add up to a severe dent in the monthly beer budget. $433 worth of beer to be more precise. Do you accept cash? Cha-ching!
After the application is in order you go for an interview at the Consulate, which you book using their online system called Visapoint ($14 fee thanks very much). The waiting time for an interview varies for each visa (up to 3-4 weeks); the US Department of State website lists current waiting times. I noticed that for a J-1 visa the Sydney Consulate only offered interviews once a week. Additionally, I found out the hard way that the Consulate is prone to shutting down for "routine maintenance" with very little notice, so if you need a visa, plan well ahead.
The US Consulate General in Sydney is high up in the MLC centre in the heart of the city, and not surprisingly, there is some serious security before you step a foot into the embassy. First off, the interview confirmation email tells you to not take any laptops, cell phones (that's mobiles in Aussie-speak) or any electronic equipment. Kinda strict huh?
No iPod for the inevitable waiting periods, how cruel.
Plus, before you go into the Consulate proper, which is high up in the tower, you go to a lower level for initial processing. It's there that you go through the first of two security checkpoints and where all bags get left with security (sheesh, don't people read instructions? I was a bit peeved that I actually could have taken a bag and iPod, which would have made the train journey into the city more bearable). 10 mins after walking into the 'pre-Consulate' I had my first wait. Time taken: 5 mins, not bad. It was for a brief interaction with someone who checked I had all the appropriate paperwork/fees paid, after which it was another wait for a security guard to escort me to the lift and send me up to the Consulate proper. Time taken: 5 mins, tolerable.
Another identification and security check, and then through a massively heavy metal door to grab a ticket and wait. A US flag flanked the heavy door, and the largish room was semi-divided into two similar looking waiting areas. Everyones attention was divided between the large LED screens lit with ticket numbers, and the people walking to the bank of counters along one wall. So I obediently took a number, and with gritted teeth I sat zombified under the harsh office lights with 30-40 other people, all perched on uniform gray plastic chairs, and watched the staff conscientiously stamping documents behind the counter. You could almost smell the ink-pads and copy-paper bureaucracy in the air. There was a large window with a fabulous view of the sunny cityscape near me, but due to the chairs orientation, only the back of my head enjoyed the view. Go figure.
Symbols of American immigration. The grainy photo of the Statue of liberty was snapped by yours truly from the Staten Island ferry, New York, 2005, while the superbly focused photo of the flag was lifted off the net, shhh.
Yes! My number flashes on the LED screens. Time taken: 10 mins, OK, considering all the people I see. I walked to the counter, handed over my documents which were whisked away and then told to rejoin the masses until I was called up for the interview. Again I wait.
The other people waiting look as bored as I do. There's a little quiet chatter and a surprising number of people are quite young. From what I gather, they are also exchange visa applicants for US summer camp leaders and the like, which explained why so many of them looked fairly sporty, tanned and pleasing to the eye. My number gets called again. Time taken: 45 mins, even with the nice scenery, not happy. Thinking how much I missed my iPod and getting hungry, very not happy.
I walk up to the counter, aware of the entire room watching my every step.
To be continued...
For episode 2, click here.
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