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.
Showing posts with label Mates. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mates. Show all posts
23 December 2007
12 December 2007
A great day
I penned the following back in March in order to preserve the memory but didn't post it for various reasons. There's no particular reason why I'm posting it now, except I was kinda sick of it hanging around in my drafts folder, plus it's always nice to relive good memories instead of dwelling on negatives all the time.
March 17, 2007.
Two reasons made it a great day.
The first reason came via email. It was a message that I had longed to see for four and a half months. The last reviewer of my PhD thesis had finally returned their critique of my thesis to the university, and the comments were positive. Although it wasn't official yet, it basically meant that my PhD had been passed. I was bloody ecstatic. I immediately told my mum and family and started capering around the house like an idiot.
After becoming increasingly jaded and ambivalent through my postgraduate studies, I didn't think I'd be so happy to know that I'd finally earned my PhD. I'm not someone who cares about titles, but Dr. Ben had a nice ring to it at that moment.
The second reason for the great day started when I got asked for proof-of-age identification when I went to buy a bottle of sauvignon blanc at the bottleshop. Sure, the guy that carded me was about 75 years old and probably had failing eyesight, but the fact remains, I was asked to prove that I was over 18. Yay for me....
Anyway, the New Zealand sauvignon blanc was for dinner with my closest mates (Ex-flatmate, Ace, GK, Entrepreneur and The Scotsman) at the Sugaroom restaurant in Pyrmont, a suburb near the Sydney city centre. The restaurant was of the fancy variety, with $25-30 mains, stylish decor and well-heeled clientèle, but it was my farewell dinner so we splashed out a bit.
Actually, it was my final farewell dinner. My move to the US had unexpectedly been delayed several weeks due to visa issues, so we already had a few 'farewell' get-togethers previously. The running joke was that everyone was tired of sending me off (read: tired of shouting me farewell drinks) and just wished I had left already. This time it really was goodbye and it felt surreal.
The restaurant was swanky and waterfront, but amongst ugly tracts of undeveloped land and the occasional complex of modern apartments. It was a strange location. The restaurant service was a tad slow at times but the modern Australian fare arrived quickly and my prosciutto wrapped chicken on top of a risotto-bean mix was great. The dessert sampler of chocolate pudding, intensely rich chocolate cake, cream and mixed berries on the side was also a winner. Our five bottles of wine attracted $8 corkage per bottle, but the pricing sting was somewhat soothed by the pleasant plonk. The meal passed quickly and since it had become increasingly rare for all of us to catch-up, it was good to have our little group all together again (minus Surfermate who had moved out of Sydney a few years back).
That meal was momentous in my mind, as it would be the last time for us to hang out together for a long while. The farewell turned into a semi-celebration as I told everyone my PhD had unofficially passed. I'm sure they were happy to know I finally had my PhD as it meant that there would be no more tedious bitching about how long it was taking everytime we talked.
After dinner we lost a few bucks at the nearby casino, danced at Liquid Buzz in the Agincourt Hotel and Ex-flatmate, The Scotsman and I ended the night with one final drink at the Columbian Hotel on Oxford St. It was a big night and the sun was up as I somehow made my way home.
The evening was one of laughs, catching-up and reminiscing. It was also a celebration of the new that overwhelmed the underlying tinge of somberness and resistance that is associated with change.
I knew that we would have more fun nights out in the future, so there was a sense of numb sadness mixed with joy as I hugged people goodbye when they left at various times throughout the night. I consider myself lucky to have had the opportunity to celebrate such a moment with mates that I've shared my life with since high school.
That day is marked as a turning point in my life. I had finally (albeit unofficially) gone from postgraduate student to postdoctoral fellow, plus, it marked the start of the last week for me before The Big Move.
It truly was a great day.
March 17, 2007.
March 17, 2007.
Two reasons made it a great day.
The first reason came via email. It was a message that I had longed to see for four and a half months. The last reviewer of my PhD thesis had finally returned their critique of my thesis to the university, and the comments were positive. Although it wasn't official yet, it basically meant that my PhD had been passed. I was bloody ecstatic. I immediately told my mum and family and started capering around the house like an idiot.
After becoming increasingly jaded and ambivalent through my postgraduate studies, I didn't think I'd be so happy to know that I'd finally earned my PhD. I'm not someone who cares about titles, but Dr. Ben had a nice ring to it at that moment.
The second reason for the great day started when I got asked for proof-of-age identification when I went to buy a bottle of sauvignon blanc at the bottleshop. Sure, the guy that carded me was about 75 years old and probably had failing eyesight, but the fact remains, I was asked to prove that I was over 18. Yay for me....
Anyway, the New Zealand sauvignon blanc was for dinner with my closest mates (Ex-flatmate, Ace, GK, Entrepreneur and The Scotsman) at the Sugaroom restaurant in Pyrmont, a suburb near the Sydney city centre. The restaurant was of the fancy variety, with $25-30 mains, stylish decor and well-heeled clientèle, but it was my farewell dinner so we splashed out a bit.
Actually, it was my final farewell dinner. My move to the US had unexpectedly been delayed several weeks due to visa issues, so we already had a few 'farewell' get-togethers previously. The running joke was that everyone was tired of sending me off (read: tired of shouting me farewell drinks) and just wished I had left already. This time it really was goodbye and it felt surreal.
The restaurant was swanky and waterfront, but amongst ugly tracts of undeveloped land and the occasional complex of modern apartments. It was a strange location. The restaurant service was a tad slow at times but the modern Australian fare arrived quickly and my prosciutto wrapped chicken on top of a risotto-bean mix was great. The dessert sampler of chocolate pudding, intensely rich chocolate cake, cream and mixed berries on the side was also a winner. Our five bottles of wine attracted $8 corkage per bottle, but the pricing sting was somewhat soothed by the pleasant plonk. The meal passed quickly and since it had become increasingly rare for all of us to catch-up, it was good to have our little group all together again (minus Surfermate who had moved out of Sydney a few years back).
That meal was momentous in my mind, as it would be the last time for us to hang out together for a long while. The farewell turned into a semi-celebration as I told everyone my PhD had unofficially passed. I'm sure they were happy to know I finally had my PhD as it meant that there would be no more tedious bitching about how long it was taking everytime we talked.
After dinner we lost a few bucks at the nearby casino, danced at Liquid Buzz in the Agincourt Hotel and Ex-flatmate, The Scotsman and I ended the night with one final drink at the Columbian Hotel on Oxford St. It was a big night and the sun was up as I somehow made my way home.
The evening was one of laughs, catching-up and reminiscing. It was also a celebration of the new that overwhelmed the underlying tinge of somberness and resistance that is associated with change.
I knew that we would have more fun nights out in the future, so there was a sense of numb sadness mixed with joy as I hugged people goodbye when they left at various times throughout the night. I consider myself lucky to have had the opportunity to celebrate such a moment with mates that I've shared my life with since high school.
That day is marked as a turning point in my life. I had finally (albeit unofficially) gone from postgraduate student to postdoctoral fellow, plus, it marked the start of the last week for me before The Big Move.
It truly was a great day.
March 17, 2007.
6 December 2007
Wedding +61
For those that know me the slightest, it's clear that I'm not a morning person. You'd think that my best mates, who have known me for over 12 years would remember this simple fact, but no. This oversight was evident last Saturday when I was woken up at the ridiculous hour of 9.30 am (!) by the abrasive ring-tone of my cell phone. After one attempt at ignoring the excessively long ringing, I groggily fell out of bed to answer the second call. On the line was a drunken cohort of my aforementioned mates. My annoyance at having been deprived of precious sleep-in time quickly vanished once I realised who was on the line. In fact, I was grateful for their call since it meant that I hadn't been totally forgotten, as being in Boston had caused me to miss a huge event in our lives: my good friend Surfermate getting married to his girlfriend Jules. To them both, congratulations and best wishes!
As mentioned previously Surfermate is the first of our group to get hitched. By all accounts the wedding was a simple yet emotional ceremony. It was held somewhat casually on the beach in a manner true to Surfermates uncomplicated stance on life.
Obviously I was sad to have missed out on the wedding, but chatting to a bunch of my mates (despite the ungodly early hour) was a blast. Conversationally rotating through the spirited mob, I learned from GK that our gift and card were very well appreciated by the bride and groom. Surfermate requested no gifts, but we thought they deserved one anyway. Surfermate and bride were staying at a resort prior to the wedding and the gift was placed outside their room. A call from Reception instructed them to check outside their door, and bingo, instant surprise. The present and the sentiments in the card made quite an impression apparently, with tears shed and plenty of positive emotions all around. Thanks to the perpetual organizer and 'mother-hen' of our group, GK, for organizing everything (GK, you definitely need to come over here and sort out my tangled mess of a life).
Hearing an Aussie voice by a +61 call is always nice. Knowing it's your mates celebrating the happiness of one of the group? Not a bad wake up call at all.
As mentioned previously Surfermate is the first of our group to get hitched. By all accounts the wedding was a simple yet emotional ceremony. It was held somewhat casually on the beach in a manner true to Surfermates uncomplicated stance on life.
Obviously I was sad to have missed out on the wedding, but chatting to a bunch of my mates (despite the ungodly early hour) was a blast. Conversationally rotating through the spirited mob, I learned from GK that our gift and card were very well appreciated by the bride and groom. Surfermate requested no gifts, but we thought they deserved one anyway. Surfermate and bride were staying at a resort prior to the wedding and the gift was placed outside their room. A call from Reception instructed them to check outside their door, and bingo, instant surprise. The present and the sentiments in the card made quite an impression apparently, with tears shed and plenty of positive emotions all around. Thanks to the perpetual organizer and 'mother-hen' of our group, GK, for organizing everything (GK, you definitely need to come over here and sort out my tangled mess of a life).
Hearing an Aussie voice by a +61 call is always nice. Knowing it's your mates celebrating the happiness of one of the group? Not a bad wake up call at all.
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.
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).
16 October 2007
PhD 101
Ex-flatmate requested a photo of my PhD thesis after reading a previous post where I was rambling on about how chuffed I was with its cover colour, and since he hasn't seen it before here it is mate:
28 September 2007
Friend on a jet plane
Travelling solo overseas can be a tough gig. You're in a foreign environment, far from home, lost more often that not, and utterly alone. It's solely your resilience, confidence, organisational skills, charm, inventiveness and luck that will either make it a trip to forget, or savor. It's like a small personal test of your abilities in coping in a stressful and potentially rewarding environment. If you're travelling alone, be pro-active, take a risk now and again, chat to strangers and foremost be confident. Chances are you'll meet some interesting people and have a great time.
Ex-flatmate is currently en-route by himself to the States. It'll be 2 weeks until he makes it to Boston for a few days to visit me, so until then, if you live in San Francisco or New York and happen across a solo Aussie traveller, be kind, say g'day and buy him a beer! In return, you'll be regaled with laid-back charm, rugged outback looks, heroic tales of how we dispense with all the lethal creatures we encounter on a day-to-day basis, and of course you'll be treated to the irresistible Aussie accent that all Americans, deep down, absolutely adore.
Ex-flatmate is currently en-route by himself to the States. It'll be 2 weeks until he makes it to Boston for a few days to visit me, so until then, if you live in San Francisco or New York and happen across a solo Aussie traveller, be kind, say g'day and buy him a beer! In return, you'll be regaled with laid-back charm, rugged outback looks, heroic tales of how we dispense with all the lethal creatures we encounter on a day-to-day basis, and of course you'll be treated to the irresistible Aussie accent that all Americans, deep down, absolutely adore.
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.
11 September 2007
Good times
Out of the blue the other day, I got the awesome news that Ex-flatmate may be visiting the US of A in early October. Needless to say I'm awaiting his visit with much anticipation. Hanging out with my mates is a glaring deficit in my Boston-life, so I'm bloody excited at the prospect of partying with Ex-flatmate soon.
After much persuasion by Ex-flatmate (i.e. his 11 comments on a previous post that exclaimed "Facebook!!") I finally joined the incestuous den of online networking, that is Facebook. The main reason for my resistance in joining the Facebook community is that there are a lot of people there, mostly from high school, who I'd prefer to avoid.
It's actually not a bad thing that I setup a Facebook account, as it allowed me to discover that my mate The Scot had his birthday the other month, an event I totally forgot, sorry mate! The Scot has a legendary ability to absorb vast amounts of alcohol, and has more drinking exploits than anyone I know. More often than not, a night out on the town involves The Scot, Ex-flatmate and myself getting totally shitfaced and dancing badly till dawn. Classy and responsible of us I know. We three also have very similar musical preferences meaning that we have moshed and air-guitared to countless concerts and music festivals together. Our signature concert beverage is Jack Daniel's and cola, which again, we tend to get fairly intoxicated with during the gig. Sophisticated? that's us. Good times.
After much persuasion by Ex-flatmate (i.e. his 11 comments on a previous post that exclaimed "Facebook!!") I finally joined the incestuous den of online networking, that is Facebook. The main reason for my resistance in joining the Facebook community is that there are a lot of people there, mostly from high school, who I'd prefer to avoid.
It's actually not a bad thing that I setup a Facebook account, as it allowed me to discover that my mate The Scot had his birthday the other month, an event I totally forgot, sorry mate! The Scot has a legendary ability to absorb vast amounts of alcohol, and has more drinking exploits than anyone I know. More often than not, a night out on the town involves The Scot, Ex-flatmate and myself getting totally shitfaced and dancing badly till dawn. Classy and responsible of us I know. We three also have very similar musical preferences meaning that we have moshed and air-guitared to countless concerts and music festivals together. Our signature concert beverage is Jack Daniel's and cola, which again, we tend to get fairly intoxicated with during the gig. Sophisticated? that's us. Good times.
13 August 2007
Which one was it again....?
In the spirit of all the terrible internet memes floating around the interwebs, here's a picture courtesy of my mate Entrepreneur (guess the whole 'waiting for the PhD thesis result' finally got to him). As in the picture I posted the other week, the aim of the game is to pick: Which one is......gay!
(Note the kid in the gray with the camera phone, cheeky little bastard.)
I'm reminded of the Glazastik (Big-Eyed guy) picture series that I got a giggle out of the other month. The Futurama brain slug one is my fave, although I'm surprised there isn't a Red Riding Hood themed picture. Ah, those crazy Russians.
(Note the kid in the gray with the camera phone, cheeky little bastard.)I'm reminded of the Glazastik (Big-Eyed guy) picture series that I got a giggle out of the other month. The Futurama brain slug one is my fave, although I'm surprised there isn't a Red Riding Hood themed picture. Ah, those crazy Russians.
4 July 2007
Alarms
Every now and again, certain events trigger us to reassess the priorities and situation of our lives. Sometimes these events are cataclysmic (e.g. the loss of a loved one), but often, they are relatively minor occurrences, which serve as intermittent alarms to wake us from our day-to-day drudgery. I experienced one of these small jolts of reality last week. It came in the form of email and was from my good mate Ace. It reminded me of how much I value my friends and family, and has made my worries about having a hard-time dealing with my boss pale into a trivial annoyance in the grand scheme of things.
Ace is a police officer, and in short, he nearly died. I hope he doesn't mind, but here's a snippet of his story:
"I had a run in with a mentally ill male on Monday night. I was about 2 inches from being killed... he was armed with a massive meat cleaver which he swung at my face and neck with full force. Luckily I had taken a baton from the car on the way up to his unit*, which I used to deflect the blade".
(*unit is Aussiespeak for apartment)
It took several officers with a lot of capsicum spray to finally subdue the attacker and thankfully Ace survived the situation unharmed, but reading his words and realising the alternate outcomes of the situation made me feel sick and really homesick. We've been through so much together and I can't imagine not ever having the chance to give him a hug, share a beer, discuss cute boys passing by, or just chat and share our lives.
Ace and I shared the suffering of coming to terms with being gay, and I've always looked up to him and admired the way he dealt with the whole situation. Where I slipped into depression and senseless direction, he was positive, pro-active and infinitely braver than I in seeking to become a confident, well-adjusted gay man. I'm uncertain whether there is such a thing as 'destiny' in life, but it does feel that Ace and I were destined to meet at such a critical stage in our lives to share our experiences and support each other. The endless hours chatting about our future as gay men, how our friends would react with the news, and accepting that we were gay, seem so long ago. We have certainly seen less of each other and have drifted apart over the past few busy years, which makes me a little sad, but such is the evolution of friendship and I know that our history still binds us strongly.
It's Independence Day today in the States and I can hear the rumbling bass and sharp stabs of fireworks blasting loudly close by. The roars of fighter jets have also passed overhead tonight. The noise is at odds with the quiet rain pattering outside, and the explosions sound like a distant battle raging in the otherwise still night. I'm sitting alone in my apartment, the lights are off, Triple J radio is playing lightly from my laptop. I feel very much like a foreigner in this city tonight. I feel as if I have no right to celebrate with the rest of the population. For me, the night seems conducive to self-reflection. Thinking about one's life is futile and torturous at the best of times, but I often ponder about where and how my life has unfolded. I know I am bloody fortunate to have the opportunity to be here in Boston and Ace's story helped me remember this.
I've received a lot of much appreciated advice about my work situation since my last post and I've decided to stay in the short term and see how my project turns out. I might have already made one lousy choice in coming to Boston, so is staying here a bit longer the right choice? That's a question not worth stressing about, time will tell. Anyway, worrying about getting yelled at by the boss makes me laugh when compared to the worries about personal safety that Ace has to deal with.
Due to their inherent nature, many of the life alarms that forced me to revalue and appreciate my life have been horrible, I'm just glad that Ace's story was not in the cataclysmic category. But why wait for the next alarm to appreciate something in your life? Go and give your loved one a hug, your family a call, or arrange a catch up with a mate. Do whatever is uplifting for you. Life sucks too much to have to miss out on these simple pleasures.
"Think of all the beauty that's still left in and around you, and be happy." Anne Frank.
Ace is a police officer, and in short, he nearly died. I hope he doesn't mind, but here's a snippet of his story:
"I had a run in with a mentally ill male on Monday night. I was about 2 inches from being killed... he was armed with a massive meat cleaver which he swung at my face and neck with full force. Luckily I had taken a baton from the car on the way up to his unit*, which I used to deflect the blade".
(*unit is Aussiespeak for apartment)
It took several officers with a lot of capsicum spray to finally subdue the attacker and thankfully Ace survived the situation unharmed, but reading his words and realising the alternate outcomes of the situation made me feel sick and really homesick. We've been through so much together and I can't imagine not ever having the chance to give him a hug, share a beer, discuss cute boys passing by, or just chat and share our lives.
Ace and I shared the suffering of coming to terms with being gay, and I've always looked up to him and admired the way he dealt with the whole situation. Where I slipped into depression and senseless direction, he was positive, pro-active and infinitely braver than I in seeking to become a confident, well-adjusted gay man. I'm uncertain whether there is such a thing as 'destiny' in life, but it does feel that Ace and I were destined to meet at such a critical stage in our lives to share our experiences and support each other. The endless hours chatting about our future as gay men, how our friends would react with the news, and accepting that we were gay, seem so long ago. We have certainly seen less of each other and have drifted apart over the past few busy years, which makes me a little sad, but such is the evolution of friendship and I know that our history still binds us strongly.
It's Independence Day today in the States and I can hear the rumbling bass and sharp stabs of fireworks blasting loudly close by. The roars of fighter jets have also passed overhead tonight. The noise is at odds with the quiet rain pattering outside, and the explosions sound like a distant battle raging in the otherwise still night. I'm sitting alone in my apartment, the lights are off, Triple J radio is playing lightly from my laptop. I feel very much like a foreigner in this city tonight. I feel as if I have no right to celebrate with the rest of the population. For me, the night seems conducive to self-reflection. Thinking about one's life is futile and torturous at the best of times, but I often ponder about where and how my life has unfolded. I know I am bloody fortunate to have the opportunity to be here in Boston and Ace's story helped me remember this.
I've received a lot of much appreciated advice about my work situation since my last post and I've decided to stay in the short term and see how my project turns out. I might have already made one lousy choice in coming to Boston, so is staying here a bit longer the right choice? That's a question not worth stressing about, time will tell. Anyway, worrying about getting yelled at by the boss makes me laugh when compared to the worries about personal safety that Ace has to deal with.
Due to their inherent nature, many of the life alarms that forced me to revalue and appreciate my life have been horrible, I'm just glad that Ace's story was not in the cataclysmic category. But why wait for the next alarm to appreciate something in your life? Go and give your loved one a hug, your family a call, or arrange a catch up with a mate. Do whatever is uplifting for you. Life sucks too much to have to miss out on these simple pleasures.
"Think of all the beauty that's still left in and around you, and be happy." Anne Frank.
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).
5 May 2007
Not the usual mail
I find it amazing when you see a couple and you just know that they will be happy being together, forever. Lulu and Bing are like that and so is Surfermate and his fiancee, Jules. Although I won't be able to make their wedding later this year, Surfermate was kind enough to send me an invitation anyway, which I was excited to receive the other day. Looking at the pleasant colour co-ordinated envelope and stylish invite, I suspect that Jules must have had a significant part in sending the invites. If it was up to Surfermate to send them, I would have expected a half-scrawled note on a piece of cardboard ripped from the closest VB carton stuffed in my mailbox (VB is an Aussie beer).
Many people in the US see marriage as a holy union between a man and a woman. That's why gay marriage is banned in all states except Massachusetts, although legislation is being pushed forward by right-wing religious groups to re-instate the ban on same-sex marriages in this state. I don't have any particularly strong views on gay marriage except to say that on an equality issue, it seems absurd to not let gays be married. Gay rights has come a long way since the Stonewall riots in 1969 but marriage seems to be a very contentious issue considering its religious origins, and I doubt gay marriage will be widely accepted for many years yet.
Surfermate is the first of our group to get married and it's another reality check that we are all moving to the next stage of life. Thinking about it, and surprising myself, I don't bemoan the transition from youth to maturity that we are/have been going through these past years. It's an exciting new time and I'm glad to leave behind a lot of bullshit that plagued my younger years.
From what I gather, Surfermate's wedding is going to be fairly relaxed and casual, in a style fitting for him, and although I'm disappointed that I won't be able to make it I'm looking forward to hearing about it.
Surfermate's wedding invite. A nice change from the "Jesus loves you" junk/chain mail letter I received last week.
Many people in the US see marriage as a holy union between a man and a woman. That's why gay marriage is banned in all states except Massachusetts, although legislation is being pushed forward by right-wing religious groups to re-instate the ban on same-sex marriages in this state. I don't have any particularly strong views on gay marriage except to say that on an equality issue, it seems absurd to not let gays be married. Gay rights has come a long way since the Stonewall riots in 1969 but marriage seems to be a very contentious issue considering its religious origins, and I doubt gay marriage will be widely accepted for many years yet.
Surfermate is the first of our group to get married and it's another reality check that we are all moving to the next stage of life. Thinking about it, and surprising myself, I don't bemoan the transition from youth to maturity that we are/have been going through these past years. It's an exciting new time and I'm glad to leave behind a lot of bullshit that plagued my younger years.
From what I gather, Surfermate's wedding is going to be fairly relaxed and casual, in a style fitting for him, and although I'm disappointed that I won't be able to make it I'm looking forward to hearing about it.
3 May 2007
Hi guys
Before I left home, I devised a convoluted set of riddles for my mates to solve that would lead them to my blog. Of course no-one gave a shit, the riddles weren't solved (partially due to how ridiculously difficult I made them, they seemed solvable at the time!) :-). So the address to this blog languished in cyber anonymity. Until now that is.
I foresaw that one of my mates would Google or otherwise locate the blog without going through the tedium of riddle solving. That mate is Entrepreneur, and as the name suggests, he's always coming up with outlandish schemes to make money or open a lucrative business. Last I heard, we were going to start a consulting group and he even had a domain name registered for our company. Entrepreneur is the tech-savvy guy of the group which is not surprising as he has a PhD in software engineering. He's the one that introduces me to sites like Digg and Slashdot, and is the only one of our group who knows what Linux is and who actually runs it.
After what seemed an eternity at uni, Entrepreneur has landed a fancy job in an IT consulting firm that has sent him to India for what I can only enviously describe as a junket. We used to attend a few classes together in first year uni and he was the guy with all the answers to the dreaded weekly math assignments and therefore I soon had the answers shortly after. Of course his answers were courtesy of another bloke and so on. It comes as no surprise then, that he became a tutor and lecturer at the same uni and started designing programs to detect coding plagiarism. Oh the sweet, sweet irony.
He has also confirmed the long-suspected marking scheme at university where they use the highly sophisticated 'random pen-drop onto a page of numbers' technique (or similar) to grade papers.
So welcome to the blog Entrepeneur, Ex-flatmate, The Scot, Ace, GK and Surfermate. Hope that it can provide you with a little side entertainment every now and again, a bit of nostalgia and a peek into parts of my life which you may not yet know about (actually, you may not really want to know...), as well as an update on life here in the States of course.
I foresaw that one of my mates would Google or otherwise locate the blog without going through the tedium of riddle solving. That mate is Entrepreneur, and as the name suggests, he's always coming up with outlandish schemes to make money or open a lucrative business. Last I heard, we were going to start a consulting group and he even had a domain name registered for our company. Entrepreneur is the tech-savvy guy of the group which is not surprising as he has a PhD in software engineering. He's the one that introduces me to sites like Digg and Slashdot, and is the only one of our group who knows what Linux is and who actually runs it.
After what seemed an eternity at uni, Entrepreneur has landed a fancy job in an IT consulting firm that has sent him to India for what I can only enviously describe as a junket. We used to attend a few classes together in first year uni and he was the guy with all the answers to the dreaded weekly math assignments and therefore I soon had the answers shortly after. Of course his answers were courtesy of another bloke and so on. It comes as no surprise then, that he became a tutor and lecturer at the same uni and started designing programs to detect coding plagiarism. Oh the sweet, sweet irony.
He has also confirmed the long-suspected marking scheme at university where they use the highly sophisticated 'random pen-drop onto a page of numbers' technique (or similar) to grade papers.
So welcome to the blog Entrepeneur, Ex-flatmate, The Scot, Ace, GK and Surfermate. Hope that it can provide you with a little side entertainment every now and again, a bit of nostalgia and a peek into parts of my life which you may not yet know about (actually, you may not really want to know...), as well as an update on life here in the States of course.
29 April 2007
Gillie the legend
Had a great time on Saturday watching the Aussies convincingly beat the Sri Lankans to once again be the champions of the Cricket World Cup. I had no trouble waking up early on Saturday thanks to a crazy neighbour who was up at 5.30 am making a racket and playing music loud enough to wake me. Grrr.
Anyway I made it to the venue, a pub near Harvard square around 9.15 am, ready for the 9.30 start. When I rocked up I was dismayed to learn that rain had delayed play and it was looking shady as to whether the game would be played at all. There were a handful of Aussies sitting around chatting who I didn't know so I grabbed a seat alone, watched the rain fall on the big screen and boringly waited. Bay-buddy soon rocked up, so taking advantage of time to kill, we grabbed a coffee and breakfast.
The room showing the cricket in the pub started to fill pretty quickly and soon enough all you could hear were Aussie accents, and the few American accents suddenly seemed foreign. It was a bit weird. Bay-buddy and I soon started chatting to a young married couple who had driven a few hours from Vermont to watch the cricket. The guy was from Melbourne and worked in finance while his wife was an American nurse. They were pretty friendly and we got along quickly. The bloke started getting stuck into the beers pretty early on and by the end of the day he was well and truly smashed and raucous, much to the embarrassment of his wife who tried to keep him tow. Having little success at subduing her husband she decided the only way to deal with the situation was to be drunk (pissed in Aussie-speak) herself. She was "battling beer with wine" in her words. Thankfully they weren't planning on driving anywhere that night and were staying in Boston for the night.
Everyone in the room was nervous of the game not starting, but when we finally saw the covers come off the pitch there was a huge cheer, even though the match was being shortened to 38 overs. Before the game I was telling Bay-buddy how much I wanted to see Gilchrist smash a hundred since his batting had been sketchy throughout the tournament. I was bloody ecstatic as we watched Gillie slog 149 in quick time and with the beer flowing, I was having a bloody awesome time. There was a significant Indian contingent in the crowd, my Bay-buddy being one of them, who were barracking for the Sri Lankans and I enjoyed sticking it to Bay-buddy everytime Gillie smashed a 6 or sent the ball flying into the boundary.
By this time, the room was packed to the rafters and it felt like it could have been any pub in Australia. Put on some cricket, supply some beer and it's amazing how the Aussies came out of the Boston wood-work.
Even though I was going (rooting in US-speak, root means to have a shag in Aussie-speak) for Australia I wanted to see a good tussle between the two teams and with Jayasuria taking it to the Aussie bowlers it looked like the Sri Lankans were in with a slim chance of running down the massive Aussie total. It was not to be however and the game ended somewhat anti-climatically after a bizarro stuff up of ending play early due to bad light and declaring Australia the champions, only to change the declaration and forcing play of the remaining overs so the Australians could win (again).
So 6 hours after arriving at the pub, with a satisfying outcome and a few tasty ales later, I stumbled out of the pub with Bay-buddy and a few other American work colleagues who came to check out this strange sport called 'cricket'. We tried to explain the rules to them without much success, even when we related everything back to baseball, but nonetheless they seemed to enjoy the game atmosphere and were amused at all the drunk Aussies:
Me: "If the bowlers 'pitch' the ball and the 'hitter' hits the ball to the boundary, it's like a home-run worth four points. Get it?"
Americans: *blank stare* " Why are there two people holding bats again?"
Me: *leaves to get another beer*
Oh yeah, mercifully, no-one did the 3 x Aussie/3 x Oi barrack over the entire day.
Anyway I made it to the venue, a pub near Harvard square around 9.15 am, ready for the 9.30 start. When I rocked up I was dismayed to learn that rain had delayed play and it was looking shady as to whether the game would be played at all. There were a handful of Aussies sitting around chatting who I didn't know so I grabbed a seat alone, watched the rain fall on the big screen and boringly waited. Bay-buddy soon rocked up, so taking advantage of time to kill, we grabbed a coffee and breakfast.
The room showing the cricket in the pub started to fill pretty quickly and soon enough all you could hear were Aussie accents, and the few American accents suddenly seemed foreign. It was a bit weird. Bay-buddy and I soon started chatting to a young married couple who had driven a few hours from Vermont to watch the cricket. The guy was from Melbourne and worked in finance while his wife was an American nurse. They were pretty friendly and we got along quickly. The bloke started getting stuck into the beers pretty early on and by the end of the day he was well and truly smashed and raucous, much to the embarrassment of his wife who tried to keep him tow. Having little success at subduing her husband she decided the only way to deal with the situation was to be drunk (pissed in Aussie-speak) herself. She was "battling beer with wine" in her words. Thankfully they weren't planning on driving anywhere that night and were staying in Boston for the night.
Everyone in the room was nervous of the game not starting, but when we finally saw the covers come off the pitch there was a huge cheer, even though the match was being shortened to 38 overs. Before the game I was telling Bay-buddy how much I wanted to see Gilchrist smash a hundred since his batting had been sketchy throughout the tournament. I was bloody ecstatic as we watched Gillie slog 149 in quick time and with the beer flowing, I was having a bloody awesome time. There was a significant Indian contingent in the crowd, my Bay-buddy being one of them, who were barracking for the Sri Lankans and I enjoyed sticking it to Bay-buddy everytime Gillie smashed a 6 or sent the ball flying into the boundary.
By this time, the room was packed to the rafters and it felt like it could have been any pub in Australia. Put on some cricket, supply some beer and it's amazing how the Aussies came out of the Boston wood-work.
Even though I was going (rooting in US-speak, root means to have a shag in Aussie-speak) for Australia I wanted to see a good tussle between the two teams and with Jayasuria taking it to the Aussie bowlers it looked like the Sri Lankans were in with a slim chance of running down the massive Aussie total. It was not to be however and the game ended somewhat anti-climatically after a bizarro stuff up of ending play early due to bad light and declaring Australia the champions, only to change the declaration and forcing play of the remaining overs so the Australians could win (again).
Boonie would definitely approve of the Aussie win, as long as he had a slab of VB to celebrate with of course
So 6 hours after arriving at the pub, with a satisfying outcome and a few tasty ales later, I stumbled out of the pub with Bay-buddy and a few other American work colleagues who came to check out this strange sport called 'cricket'. We tried to explain the rules to them without much success, even when we related everything back to baseball, but nonetheless they seemed to enjoy the game atmosphere and were amused at all the drunk Aussies:
Me: "If the bowlers 'pitch' the ball and the 'hitter' hits the ball to the boundary, it's like a home-run worth four points. Get it?"
Americans: *blank stare* " Why are there two people holding bats again?"
Me: *leaves to get another beer*
Oh yeah, mercifully, no-one did the 3 x Aussie/3 x Oi barrack over the entire day.
20 April 2007
Happy Birthday Ex-flatmate
Today is Ex-flatmates birthday, so happy b'day mate! Well technically it's tomorrow, but with the 14 hour time difference, I gave him a ring today and said g'day/wished him well using Skype. With free Skype to Skype calls and really cheap international calls, it's an awesome program for calling overseas, especially in my situation of only having the opportunity to call from a cell phone with expensive international rates. Wow, that reads as a cheesy ad for Skype, but you get the gist that I'm a fan. Even though it's only been a month, it was cool to chat to Ex-flatmate and catch-up on recent happenings, plus it's always nice to hear a familiar accent via +61.
I've known Ex-flatmate since high school (as with most of my close friends). We shared an apartment for around 2 years and have had countless adventures through our friendship. Ex-flatmate is one of those high-achievers who works unnaturally long hours in the ruthless corporate world, yet manages to be positive, cheerful and modest, plus he still manages to take time out from his commitments to hang out with his mates for a beer or a rock concert. A more decent, likeable bloke I couldn't imagine. Over the years, me, Ex-flatmate and The Scotsman have made a tradition of being the rock gig/music festival-attending trio, and some of the highlights of my last few months in Australia was moshing out to Tool and at the Big Day Out festival (where Tool was also headlining) on consecutive days at the end of January.
The lineup at Big Day Out this year was stupendously superb and Tool and Muse rocked out completely, while Aussie bands like John Butler Trio, Expatriate and the few songs we caught from The Vines were also top notch. A significant number of young, shirtless, amazingly hot guys were a fitting accompaniment to the superb music; especially in tight, crowded situations, as in the mosh pit. I mean let's not beat around the bush, a music festival is 80% music, 20% pervfest, well for me it is. If you are a tourist in Sydney around late January and want to visually sample the most gorgeous guys (or girls) Australia has to offer, I strongly suggest trying to snag a ticket to the Big Day Out. A diverse range of music, a hedonistic mass of shirtless guys, beers, good mates and a sunny clear blue sky, need I say more?
But I digress, back to the birthday message, I hope the golf God's favour Ex-flatemate for his birthday round and that he has an overall awesome weekend off, despite being another year grayer :-). I know Ex-flatmate is a Star Wars fan and although it's not sold anymore, if I could mate, I would have sent this to you:
More vintage Star Wars stuff and the above image can be found here.
I've known Ex-flatmate since high school (as with most of my close friends). We shared an apartment for around 2 years and have had countless adventures through our friendship. Ex-flatmate is one of those high-achievers who works unnaturally long hours in the ruthless corporate world, yet manages to be positive, cheerful and modest, plus he still manages to take time out from his commitments to hang out with his mates for a beer or a rock concert. A more decent, likeable bloke I couldn't imagine. Over the years, me, Ex-flatmate and The Scotsman have made a tradition of being the rock gig/music festival-attending trio, and some of the highlights of my last few months in Australia was moshing out to Tool and at the Big Day Out festival (where Tool was also headlining) on consecutive days at the end of January.
Big Day Out crowd 2007, by Matt Booy
The lineup at Big Day Out this year was stupendously superb and Tool and Muse rocked out completely, while Aussie bands like John Butler Trio, Expatriate and the few songs we caught from The Vines were also top notch. A significant number of young, shirtless, amazingly hot guys were a fitting accompaniment to the superb music; especially in tight, crowded situations, as in the mosh pit. I mean let's not beat around the bush, a music festival is 80% music, 20% pervfest, well for me it is. If you are a tourist in Sydney around late January and want to visually sample the most gorgeous guys (or girls) Australia has to offer, I strongly suggest trying to snag a ticket to the Big Day Out. A diverse range of music, a hedonistic mass of shirtless guys, beers, good mates and a sunny clear blue sky, need I say more?
But I digress, back to the birthday message, I hope the golf God's favour Ex-flatemate for his birthday round and that he has an overall awesome weekend off, despite being another year grayer :-). I know Ex-flatmate is a Star Wars fan and although it's not sold anymore, if I could mate, I would have sent this to you:
More vintage Star Wars stuff and the above image can be found here.
5 April 2007
House-hunting
It's been a little less than 2 weeks since I moved to the States and the attempt to establish myself in Boston is moving slowly. So far, there have been some successes such as; opening a bank account; filing for a social security number (extremely important for pay purposes and a tonne of other things); and settling into work, although this is an ongoing process.
However, I still haven't got a cell phone and most alarmingly, I haven't found a permanent place to live. Luckily, I'm residing with two good friends, Lulu and Bing, who moved from Sydney to Boston 5 months ago. They moved for similar reasons to myself, that is, they are both scientists who are doing their postdoctoral research in the US. I did my PhD in the same lab as Lulu and got to know her then-fiancee-but-now-husband Bing over the years. Both are extremely nice and accommodating, and I have no idea how I would have survived The Big Move without their advice, support and of course their generous offer of temporary housing in their enviably nice, rented apartment.
Their apartment (or flat, in Aussiespeak - say flat to an American and you'll get a 'What the?' stare in reply) is a one bedroom place, hardwood floors, cool tropical fish tank, many indoor plants and a comfy futon that makes the apartment a pleasant refuge from the cold conditions outside. The surrounding neighbourhood is safe and full of good restaurants within a few minutes walk, and it's the kind of area I'm looking to live in.
Housing in Boston is terribly expensive when compared to the rental market in Sydney. Amazingly, a $100-200 difference makes a huge difference to the quality of the apartment. I know it's not exact to compare across currencies, but I was paying $A600/month for a studio in a decent area in Sydney, while it's about $1200/month for a fairly nice place in Boston. There are plenty of decent studios for less than $1200, but since I'm a stranger in Boston I wanted to have a place that is homely and which offers a bit of comfort when I get home.
Another thing that's different here is the separation of buildings between 'professionals' and 'students/undergrads'. Profession counts in renting and you get asked about your occupation. Some rental groups that manage the buildings only take professionals. Generally, the professional buildings are better maintained than the student blocks.
I spent today running around in the frigid, snowy/sleety conditions to inspect studio apartments and share house options in various Boston locales. This is spring?! My jeans are absolutely soaked and clammy on my skin which unsurprisingly, I'm not too happy about. However, due to my new Boston-bought waterproof boots (thanks REI!), my feet are mercifully dry. Worst of all it's just past 11 pm and I'm writing this at work. I've still got a few things to do before I can go home and I'm writing in the breaks.
The major difference between the Sydney and Boston rental system, is that here, the Realtor gets paid a 'brokers fee' for every apartment they rent out. The fee is 1/2 to 3/4 of the monthly rent and is paid by the tenant or in some circumstances, the landlord. So with a brokers fee + first and last months rent, renting an apartment is an expensive procedure.
Although it's only been a week, I'm sick of trawling Craigslist and calling realtors. Craigslist is almost unknown in Australia as far as I know, but it has turned out to be a great resource here in Boston. You can find share accommodation, rentals, furniture and a bunch of other stuff there.
The good news is that I'm ready to apply for an apartment tomorrow. It's just around from Lulu and Bing's place and close to work. Fingers crossed the application goes through.
It's been a long day; bed-time (finishing this post at home). I'm excited that maybe my next post will be from my new apartment. Later.
However, I still haven't got a cell phone and most alarmingly, I haven't found a permanent place to live. Luckily, I'm residing with two good friends, Lulu and Bing, who moved from Sydney to Boston 5 months ago. They moved for similar reasons to myself, that is, they are both scientists who are doing their postdoctoral research in the US. I did my PhD in the same lab as Lulu and got to know her then-fiancee-but-now-husband Bing over the years. Both are extremely nice and accommodating, and I have no idea how I would have survived The Big Move without their advice, support and of course their generous offer of temporary housing in their enviably nice, rented apartment.
My fishy room-mates at Lulu and Bing's place
Their apartment (or flat, in Aussiespeak - say flat to an American and you'll get a 'What the?' stare in reply) is a one bedroom place, hardwood floors, cool tropical fish tank, many indoor plants and a comfy futon that makes the apartment a pleasant refuge from the cold conditions outside. The surrounding neighbourhood is safe and full of good restaurants within a few minutes walk, and it's the kind of area I'm looking to live in.
Housing in Boston is terribly expensive when compared to the rental market in Sydney. Amazingly, a $100-200 difference makes a huge difference to the quality of the apartment. I know it's not exact to compare across currencies, but I was paying $A600/month for a studio in a decent area in Sydney, while it's about $1200/month for a fairly nice place in Boston. There are plenty of decent studios for less than $1200, but since I'm a stranger in Boston I wanted to have a place that is homely and which offers a bit of comfort when I get home.
Another thing that's different here is the separation of buildings between 'professionals' and 'students/undergrads'. Profession counts in renting and you get asked about your occupation. Some rental groups that manage the buildings only take professionals. Generally, the professional buildings are better maintained than the student blocks.
I spent today running around in the frigid, snowy/sleety conditions to inspect studio apartments and share house options in various Boston locales. This is spring?! My jeans are absolutely soaked and clammy on my skin which unsurprisingly, I'm not too happy about. However, due to my new Boston-bought waterproof boots (thanks REI!), my feet are mercifully dry. Worst of all it's just past 11 pm and I'm writing this at work. I've still got a few things to do before I can go home and I'm writing in the breaks.
The major difference between the Sydney and Boston rental system, is that here, the Realtor gets paid a 'brokers fee' for every apartment they rent out. The fee is 1/2 to 3/4 of the monthly rent and is paid by the tenant or in some circumstances, the landlord. So with a brokers fee + first and last months rent, renting an apartment is an expensive procedure.
Although it's only been a week, I'm sick of trawling Craigslist and calling realtors. Craigslist is almost unknown in Australia as far as I know, but it has turned out to be a great resource here in Boston. You can find share accommodation, rentals, furniture and a bunch of other stuff there.
The good news is that I'm ready to apply for an apartment tomorrow. It's just around from Lulu and Bing's place and close to work. Fingers crossed the application goes through.
It's been a long day; bed-time (finishing this post at home). I'm excited that maybe my next post will be from my new apartment. Later.
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