How is it that it rained most of the summer when I was at home, and was so dry here that they had burn restrictions? How is it that before I got to North Carolina, they hadn't had any sort of rain in over 4 weeks, yet the second day I was here (and at least 4 times since then) it poured? How is it that It has been CASCADING RAIN for the last 3 days, and will be storming for at LEAST the next 5 (and possibly more, but that's all the weather network shows me) due to hurricane Gustave, leaving me to walk 15 minutes to and from class every day in thunder storms and torrential downpours because I didn't get a parking pass and there are only 6 parking meters on campus, which are ALWAYS BEING USED??? They even had tornado warnings out this afternoon! Now THAT's a little excessive, don't you think?
Not fair.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
Not Quite Home, But No Longer Just Visiting
Today was the first time since I got here that things just felt right.
Up until this point I had been seriously wondering what exactly I was doing here, far from my family, friends and everything familiar, working towards a goal that is only a close cousin to what I always said I'd be doing.
Everything I've done in my life up to this point just felt right. I decided on Carleton and journalism as opposed to my original goal of East Coast and marine biology, and spent four glorious years basking in a feeling of purpose and belonging. I didn't get into grad school last year, but packed up and went to Boston and, scary as it was, I knew that's what I should be doing. But when I got here I kind of hit a brick wall. Suddenly my future felt a little less clear and I seriously wondered if this was the right path for me. I got hung up on the small things, the deficiencies of the program, the fact that it's not actually biology, and without looking at the big picture it all just felt so incredibly wrong. I didn't want to admit this at first, since it's costing a small fortune for me to have this opportunity and, lets face it, at this point Duke is my only real option. But now I feel ok saying it, because it's no longer true.
Today was the first day of classes, a day which I've been dreading for months. Back to lectures, back to labs, back to trying not to fall asleep while a dimly-lit professor drones from the front of the room. And it didn't help that my first class was an 8:30 "Fundamentals of Geospatial Analysis" lecture. So at 6 a.m. I dragged myself out of bed, showered, ate breakfast, and got myself ready for class. Sitting in the lecture hall, cursing my decision not to bring coffee, I continued to wonder what I was doing in North Carolina.
Until the lecture started.
The first thing to show up on the lecture screen was the thing that justified this entire life choice for me. What professor Halpin chose to share with us as the introduction to why we should take his course was a video of him tagging whales on Stellwagen Bank off the coast of Boston. My whales. With friends that I worked with at the Whale Center last fall. Upon seeing the 30 seconds of footage, all my doubts and "what if"s and wonderings faded, and everything else just seemed to settle. No, maybe I don't want the policy classes and the 14 readings per week they require. Maybe the economics classes will drive me insane. Maybe it's not marine biology. But I WILL get there.
This feeling was only magnified when I went to an interview for a communications assistantship working for Duke's environmental magazine. Sitting in the office chatting with the editor about possible writing, photography, video and blogging opportunities, I became more excited about journalism that I have been in a long time. I promised myself that when I came to Duke I would get involved with the newspaper, join a photography club, and not let all my journalism training go down the drain. When I realized that Duke doesn't have a photography club (or if it does, it's doing a really good job of hiding), and the paper is only for undergrads, that seemed to be another tick on my list of cons. But getting involved with the magazine would be exactly the thing I need this year, providing the opportunity to work on an actual publication, and possibly even getting paid to blog about my everyday life. It's not a sure thing that I'll get in, but the editor seemed really impressed with me and as far as I know there's only one other person interviewing for the position, so I have high hopes!
After the interview I had a little bit of time before my next class, so I went out to the courtyard and sat myself in my new favourite place to read. As I munched on my cinnamon Special K bar and dug through my bag in search of my book, I let my eyes wander over the lush green grass, the overhanging trees, the little birds hopping around the courtyard and the constant line of tiny ants parading across the cement... and for the first time since I got here I was actually truly happy. No, I haven't made too many friends yet. No, I haven't managed to find my way around anywhere except the LSRC building. No, I haven't started the 14 readings I was supposed to have done for today, and I haven't quite figured out the computer systems, and I still don't have my textbooks. But my "to-do" list will get done, and the rest of it will come with time. And, until then, I can be satisfied knowing that I did make the right choice.
Up until this point I had been seriously wondering what exactly I was doing here, far from my family, friends and everything familiar, working towards a goal that is only a close cousin to what I always said I'd be doing.
Everything I've done in my life up to this point just felt right. I decided on Carleton and journalism as opposed to my original goal of East Coast and marine biology, and spent four glorious years basking in a feeling of purpose and belonging. I didn't get into grad school last year, but packed up and went to Boston and, scary as it was, I knew that's what I should be doing. But when I got here I kind of hit a brick wall. Suddenly my future felt a little less clear and I seriously wondered if this was the right path for me. I got hung up on the small things, the deficiencies of the program, the fact that it's not actually biology, and without looking at the big picture it all just felt so incredibly wrong. I didn't want to admit this at first, since it's costing a small fortune for me to have this opportunity and, lets face it, at this point Duke is my only real option. But now I feel ok saying it, because it's no longer true.
Today was the first day of classes, a day which I've been dreading for months. Back to lectures, back to labs, back to trying not to fall asleep while a dimly-lit professor drones from the front of the room. And it didn't help that my first class was an 8:30 "Fundamentals of Geospatial Analysis" lecture. So at 6 a.m. I dragged myself out of bed, showered, ate breakfast, and got myself ready for class. Sitting in the lecture hall, cursing my decision not to bring coffee, I continued to wonder what I was doing in North Carolina.
Until the lecture started.
The first thing to show up on the lecture screen was the thing that justified this entire life choice for me. What professor Halpin chose to share with us as the introduction to why we should take his course was a video of him tagging whales on Stellwagen Bank off the coast of Boston. My whales. With friends that I worked with at the Whale Center last fall. Upon seeing the 30 seconds of footage, all my doubts and "what if"s and wonderings faded, and everything else just seemed to settle. No, maybe I don't want the policy classes and the 14 readings per week they require. Maybe the economics classes will drive me insane. Maybe it's not marine biology. But I WILL get there.
This feeling was only magnified when I went to an interview for a communications assistantship working for Duke's environmental magazine. Sitting in the office chatting with the editor about possible writing, photography, video and blogging opportunities, I became more excited about journalism that I have been in a long time. I promised myself that when I came to Duke I would get involved with the newspaper, join a photography club, and not let all my journalism training go down the drain. When I realized that Duke doesn't have a photography club (or if it does, it's doing a really good job of hiding), and the paper is only for undergrads, that seemed to be another tick on my list of cons. But getting involved with the magazine would be exactly the thing I need this year, providing the opportunity to work on an actual publication, and possibly even getting paid to blog about my everyday life. It's not a sure thing that I'll get in, but the editor seemed really impressed with me and as far as I know there's only one other person interviewing for the position, so I have high hopes!
After the interview I had a little bit of time before my next class, so I went out to the courtyard and sat myself in my new favourite place to read. As I munched on my cinnamon Special K bar and dug through my bag in search of my book, I let my eyes wander over the lush green grass, the overhanging trees, the little birds hopping around the courtyard and the constant line of tiny ants parading across the cement... and for the first time since I got here I was actually truly happy. No, I haven't made too many friends yet. No, I haven't managed to find my way around anywhere except the LSRC building. No, I haven't started the 14 readings I was supposed to have done for today, and I haven't quite figured out the computer systems, and I still don't have my textbooks. But my "to-do" list will get done, and the rest of it will come with time. And, until then, I can be satisfied knowing that I did make the right choice.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
I'm now Orientated.... Oriented....?
Orientation week is FINALLY over, and boy was it exhausting. We were on campus all day from Monday to Friday, generally starting at 8:30 and finishing around 5-ish. For somebody who has pretty much made her own schedule (which involved staying up late and sleeping in) for the last 8 months, that was A LOT. We had tons of information thrown at us (even more for me because of my "international student" status), we played games, took forest tours (yes, Duke has its very own forest), were forced to socialize, and learned useful things like how to register for classes. So, at the end of the week, here is what I've accomplished:
1. I now know my way around the LSRC building. Yes, only that one building. Luckily that's where most of my classes are.
2. I have located my locker and my mailbox... a good start.
3. I'm registered for all my classes. Well, almost all... I'm actually switching one of my electives, so I still have a few kinks to work out.
4. I've applied for my assistantship positions, and have already interviewed for one. Hopefully I'll have one lined up by the Monday after next.
5. I've remembered that I HATE forced social situations.
6. I've found my new favourite place to read... the LSRC courtyard is surrounded by a low stone wall, and there's this one spot where you can sit and lean against a pillar in the shade, and it's just so comfortable! Plus, there's a good chance you'll be visited by a cute squirrel and a small lizard, so that keeps things interesting.
7. As of 10 minutes ago, I finally set up my voicemail on my cell phone. Now you can leave me a message!
8. I got *almost* all of my forms for payroll, international stuff, etc. filled out. I still need to get my Social Security Number though... so not really done I guess.
9. I ordered my books online! Much easier and cheaper than getting them at the bookstore. Although now I'm going to have to return one of them, since I'm switching one of my classes... oops!
10. I experienced a real southern tradition and went to see a civil war reenactment. Yes, they actually do those. You can find some of my pictures here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2163079&l=0e022&id=90410398
11. I finally got around to taking pictures of my house to show everyone. You can see those pictures here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2162437&l=db99b&id=90410398
Anyways, that's all I can think of for now... I'm not feeling too inspired this evening, so sorry about the boring post. I'll update again after I start classes.
1. I now know my way around the LSRC building. Yes, only that one building. Luckily that's where most of my classes are.
2. I have located my locker and my mailbox... a good start.
3. I'm registered for all my classes. Well, almost all... I'm actually switching one of my electives, so I still have a few kinks to work out.
4. I've applied for my assistantship positions, and have already interviewed for one. Hopefully I'll have one lined up by the Monday after next.
5. I've remembered that I HATE forced social situations.
6. I've found my new favourite place to read... the LSRC courtyard is surrounded by a low stone wall, and there's this one spot where you can sit and lean against a pillar in the shade, and it's just so comfortable! Plus, there's a good chance you'll be visited by a cute squirrel and a small lizard, so that keeps things interesting.
7. As of 10 minutes ago, I finally set up my voicemail on my cell phone. Now you can leave me a message!
8. I got *almost* all of my forms for payroll, international stuff, etc. filled out. I still need to get my Social Security Number though... so not really done I guess.
9. I ordered my books online! Much easier and cheaper than getting them at the bookstore. Although now I'm going to have to return one of them, since I'm switching one of my classes... oops!
10. I experienced a real southern tradition and went to see a civil war reenactment. Yes, they actually do those. You can find some of my pictures here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2163079&l=0e022&id=90410398
11. I finally got around to taking pictures of my house to show everyone. You can see those pictures here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2162437&l=db99b&id=90410398
Anyways, that's all I can think of for now... I'm not feeling too inspired this evening, so sorry about the boring post. I'll update again after I start classes.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Random Thought...
I've come to realize that the word "trudging" describes about 85% of my life right now.
That is all.
That is all.
Welcome to Hades
"Man, it's so hot out! I'm already sweating..."
"My dad says ladies don't sweat, they 'perspire.'"
"Actually, ladies don't 'perspire', they 'glisten.' And I don't know about you, but I'm glistening like a pig."
It's conversations like these that make me realize I'm not (and will probably never be) a southern girl. Sure I've only been here a week and a half, and I have to give myself some sort of adjustment period... but I'm Canadian! And a winter-born at that. Give me breezy summer days in the high 20s, cool August nights, crisp October sunshine... strap some ice skates to my feet a couple times a year and I'm good to go.
Not that anyone down here has ever used ice skates.
Here the average temperatures hover in the 90s (the 30s for those of you thinking in celsius), with the humidity pushing the "feels like" temperature up to 10 degrees (C) higher. The air is so thick that even breathing is a challenge, and you can actually feel the breaths trickling down your throat and condensing, but never quenching that always-present voracious thirst. You can SEE the air in Durham. The pure density of it shows up as a hazy blur that makes you rub your eyes and reach for the eye drops, sure that it's only you who notices the film. People here walk around in a cloud of perfume and cologne, either applied to mask potential embarrassing odours, or simply diffused by the sheer amount of heat their bodies are absorbing. If a slight breeze picks up, they stop what they're doing and turn to face the wind, sounding an involuntary sigh of contentment, which is generally followed by an audible communal groan when the air stills and settles once more. People keep their distance here, as any sort of human contact results in buckets of sweat and is nearly intolerable. I have yet to see any clingy couples wandering the streets.
The pavement here looks like it's constantly on the move, with waves of radiant heat rising up into the atmosphere. For eyes unaccustomed to seeing in ripples, this becomes hazardous. Tripping is almost unavoidable. I've done it twice.
Wardrobe planning becomes strategic. I spend my mornings digging through my closet, searching for the one shirt that is light enough that I won't melt on my 15 minute walk to campus, not too low-cut because layering (while always an option) just means more clothing to absorb and trap heat. It has to be the right colour and fabric so that it doesn't show any possibly embarrassing "glisten" marks. Plus there's the constant question of "if I wear these bottoms, is anybody going to notice that I forgot to shave?"
But in the end there's only so much I can do. The walk will be long and hot, regardless of what I'm wearing. The hill leading up to campus, which doesn't seem so big when I'm in a car, will seem a million miles longer when I'm struggling to pull in each and every breath. My sunglasses will begin to fog up about 3 minutes away from my building, and I will begin to feel the sweat popping up on my forehead and scalp like a million pins and needles, thriving under the thick, dark, insulating helmet of hair (which will have frizzed out instantly upon exiting the apartment, despite the gobs of Frizz-ease and hair wax applied in a vain attempt to tame it). Make-up is futile, as by the time I reach my destination it will have all melted off, leaving me red-faced and shiny once more. Scheduling becomes an issue, since every trip to class is preceded by a quick jaunt to the ladies' room to run my wrists under cold water and blot with paper towel, in an attempt to feel more human. My water bottle won't stay full for long. And upon entering the air conditioned building I'll immediately get the shivers from the sheer shock of the cold air on my skin.
But with the bad comes the good. The longer growing season means all the flowering trees and plants are still in bloom, filling my walk with vivid oranges and pinks. The decaying pine needles let off a pleasant, familiar odour, made stronger by the warmth of the air. Sweet peas wind their way through the chain-link fences that line the sidewalk, their colourful flowers and enticing fruits just daring me to pick them. Trees become even more beautiful for the shade they provide, and the thick, springy grass becomes an oasis for the feet because it holds on to the cooler night air longer than the rest. And, there is nothing quite as satisfying as a tall drink of cold water.
It's days like these that I miss being on the ocean, where long sleeves are a necessity even in the summer heat.
It's days like these that make me stop dreaming of success, and start dreaming about air conditioning.
"My dad says ladies don't sweat, they 'perspire.'"
"Actually, ladies don't 'perspire', they 'glisten.' And I don't know about you, but I'm glistening like a pig."
It's conversations like these that make me realize I'm not (and will probably never be) a southern girl. Sure I've only been here a week and a half, and I have to give myself some sort of adjustment period... but I'm Canadian! And a winter-born at that. Give me breezy summer days in the high 20s, cool August nights, crisp October sunshine... strap some ice skates to my feet a couple times a year and I'm good to go.
Not that anyone down here has ever used ice skates.
Here the average temperatures hover in the 90s (the 30s for those of you thinking in celsius), with the humidity pushing the "feels like" temperature up to 10 degrees (C) higher. The air is so thick that even breathing is a challenge, and you can actually feel the breaths trickling down your throat and condensing, but never quenching that always-present voracious thirst. You can SEE the air in Durham. The pure density of it shows up as a hazy blur that makes you rub your eyes and reach for the eye drops, sure that it's only you who notices the film. People here walk around in a cloud of perfume and cologne, either applied to mask potential embarrassing odours, or simply diffused by the sheer amount of heat their bodies are absorbing. If a slight breeze picks up, they stop what they're doing and turn to face the wind, sounding an involuntary sigh of contentment, which is generally followed by an audible communal groan when the air stills and settles once more. People keep their distance here, as any sort of human contact results in buckets of sweat and is nearly intolerable. I have yet to see any clingy couples wandering the streets.
The pavement here looks like it's constantly on the move, with waves of radiant heat rising up into the atmosphere. For eyes unaccustomed to seeing in ripples, this becomes hazardous. Tripping is almost unavoidable. I've done it twice.
Wardrobe planning becomes strategic. I spend my mornings digging through my closet, searching for the one shirt that is light enough that I won't melt on my 15 minute walk to campus, not too low-cut because layering (while always an option) just means more clothing to absorb and trap heat. It has to be the right colour and fabric so that it doesn't show any possibly embarrassing "glisten" marks. Plus there's the constant question of "if I wear these bottoms, is anybody going to notice that I forgot to shave?"
But in the end there's only so much I can do. The walk will be long and hot, regardless of what I'm wearing. The hill leading up to campus, which doesn't seem so big when I'm in a car, will seem a million miles longer when I'm struggling to pull in each and every breath. My sunglasses will begin to fog up about 3 minutes away from my building, and I will begin to feel the sweat popping up on my forehead and scalp like a million pins and needles, thriving under the thick, dark, insulating helmet of hair (which will have frizzed out instantly upon exiting the apartment, despite the gobs of Frizz-ease and hair wax applied in a vain attempt to tame it). Make-up is futile, as by the time I reach my destination it will have all melted off, leaving me red-faced and shiny once more. Scheduling becomes an issue, since every trip to class is preceded by a quick jaunt to the ladies' room to run my wrists under cold water and blot with paper towel, in an attempt to feel more human. My water bottle won't stay full for long. And upon entering the air conditioned building I'll immediately get the shivers from the sheer shock of the cold air on my skin.
But with the bad comes the good. The longer growing season means all the flowering trees and plants are still in bloom, filling my walk with vivid oranges and pinks. The decaying pine needles let off a pleasant, familiar odour, made stronger by the warmth of the air. Sweet peas wind their way through the chain-link fences that line the sidewalk, their colourful flowers and enticing fruits just daring me to pick them. Trees become even more beautiful for the shade they provide, and the thick, springy grass becomes an oasis for the feet because it holds on to the cooler night air longer than the rest. And, there is nothing quite as satisfying as a tall drink of cold water.
It's days like these that I miss being on the ocean, where long sleeves are a necessity even in the summer heat.
It's days like these that make me stop dreaming of success, and start dreaming about air conditioning.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
... And it's a good thing, too!
Remember my "I don't believe in omens" post? Well, that mantra lately has been what's been keeping me sane. One would have thought that only so much can go wrong in a few days... but that "so much" is so much more than I thought it could possibly be. Now, don't get me wrong, in hindsight all the little glitches along the road were just those: glitches. There was nothing huge and serious, nothing Earth-shattering, but nothing I was really prepared to deal with in the last few days, either. And piled on top of the fact that I'm in a new city, in a different country, and completely out of my element? Yeah, the last few days have been more than a little frustrating.
Let's start with the fact that it took us FOREVER to get through Pennsylvania. No joke. I'm pretty sure Pennsylvania is like the black hole of the U.S. Just when you think you've escaped, it sucks you back in. Point in fact: during our second day of driving, we got stuck on the interstate for AN HOUR, literally not moving. Then, when we finally did get moving, it was only to realize that the entire interstate was closed because of some sort of accident. Yes, they CLOSED the interstate. Which meant a lot of back-roading, driving down roads that I'm not even sure were roads, and somehow ending up in Gettysburg (about 2 farther west than we should have been.... seeing as we were travelling east). Then, when we finally made our way to another interstate, we got stuck in traffic for ANOTHER hour because of construction. So it took us probably about 6 hours on our second driving day to get through a state that we should have left far behind on the first day. Which meant an exhausting day all around, but overall not too bad.
The real problems started the day after that, when I was supposed to be moving in to my new place. The first order of business that day was getting a cell phone, since roaming on my Canadian phone pretty much costs a fortune. Now, I did my homework before leaving. I looked up all the different U.S. phone services I could think of, checked out the service maps to make sure I could get good reception in my area, read suggestions from other Duke students as to which cell companies worked best in what areas, looked at long distance rates, figured out who had the cheapest phone plans that could be combined with Canada calling, and finally decided on Sprint. I even knew what model of phone I wanted, and where their biggest location was in the Durham area. So, having punched the address into my trusty GPS ("Mandy"), we were off to a good start. But, when we finally got to the Sprint store, we had to stand and wait for a clerk who assured us "I'll be with y'all in a minute!" So, we waited. And waited. And waited. And.... you got it!... waited. Finally, about 20 minutes after walking into the store, the clerk wanders over and drawls "what can I help y'all with?" (yes, I'm truly in the south!). So, I tell her exactly what phone plan, long distance plan, and cell model I need, feeling sufficiently organized. However, my organization really didn't seem to matter, seeing as the clerk informed me that none of their phones in the store supported long-distance calling or roaming, and if I wanted that I would have to buy the newest Blackberry (the "Curve" I believe?), which would have interchangeable SIM cards. And to my "but... but... the Internet told me!" argument, she replied that the phones and plans I saw on the Internet were only available if I ordered online (which wasn't posted with the plans, so how would I know that?). But since I really don't have the time to wait for my phone to be ordered, and shipped, and (with my luck) probably lost somewhere along the way, I had to sadly decline.
So, next stop was Verizon Wireless, where the clerks were nice and attentive, but the phone plans were horrendously expensive. So, U.S. cell companies: 2. Robyn: 0.
So back to the car to search for another phone company. The boiling hot, full-to-the-brim, fogged-up-with-humidity car. The car which WOULD NOT START. The car which had been serviced THREE DAYS EARLIER, and had a full system check, and that I had to pay a ridiculous, heart-stopping amount of money to replace the worn-out brakes for. Yup, THAT car. So I'm sitting in the parking lot, with no idea who to call or what to do. Luckily I remembered that when I had my car in at Campbell Ford 3 days earlier I had asked about dealerships in Durham, just in case anything like this were to happen, and they had nicely stapled a list of 4 or 5 in the area. So, I picked a random dealership off the list and started dialing. They told me to call another dealership. So I called the other dealership... they told me to call U.S. Roadside Assistance. So I called them, went through all the automated steps, stayed on hold for 10 minutes (melting, by the way, and all this on my Canadian cell... I REALLY don't want to see my phone bill...), and they told me to call Canadian Roadside Assistance, since my vehicle was Canadian. So I called THEM, and they told me they'd call AAA and call back to let me know when a tow-truck was coming. They never called back. So I was STILL sitting in the boiling hot car, in the Verizon parking lot, with the hood up (although I had no idea what I was looking at anyways), waiting for some kind soul to take pity and help me out. Luckily the same Verizon clerk I had been dealing with earlier noticed my pathetic situation and offered me a boost, which meant I could drive to the closest Ford dealership myself and hopefully get my car looked at. I finally got Chazz to the dealership down the street, where after half an hour of waiting they informed me that the battery had died (duh) and they could replace it within 5 minutes. So, one battery and an unexpected car bill later, I was back on the road and heading to my new apartment.
Quick happy interlude: the townhouse I'm living in is small, but GORGEOUS. My roommate is really nice and I think we'll get along fine, and my room is pretty great. I have my own bathroom, and the closet is HUGE (which is good, because there's no dresser to put my clothes in. And I have A LOT of clothes.) So the rest of the day was spent unloading my car, bringing my stuff up to my room, trying to unpack, realizing I had a lot of stuff I needed to buy (ie: hangers) before I could actually unpack, then driving to a Super Target to pick up a bunch of stuff.
Right beside the Super Target was an AT&T store, and although I said that I would never sign on with AT&T again (I had some issues when I was with them in Boston), my roommate said that they were pretty good in this area and they were pretty much my only other option, so I decided to check it out. The whole process of finding a phone and plan was pretty easy actually. I had figured out what I wanted about 5 minutes after walking through the door. But the problems came when I was actually trying to create my account. Since I'm Canadian, and don't have a Social Security Number, they REALLY didn't want to give me a phone. Not even when I had already had a phone with the company, 8 months earlier. Not even when they found my existing account on file, and saw that I had already built up a decent credit rating with them. No, since I didn't have an SSN, they wanted a $500 deposit, which I would get back after a year. But, even after I agreed to pay the $500 (not happily, but I really do need a phone), they somehow couldn't sign me up, because I was missing an SSN and the generic SSN they use for people in my situation wasn't working. So it was literally an hour before they could get me all set up, but I DID get a phone in the end (with the deposit bumped down to $100, since they decided my credit rating from my last AT&T phone was good enough), although they informed me that I would have to call customer service to add on the $3.99/month Canada Calling feature because for some reason they couldn't do it in the store. No problem, right? WRONG. Once again, because I don't have an SSN, to get this $3.99/month feature added to my plan, I would either have to go back to the store, have them fax in a copy of my passport, driver's license and lease agreement (which I really don't want to do... why does AT&T need a copy of my passport??), and then call customer service back again and MAYBE they could set me up. Or, I could wait 3 months and try again. So, as it stands, I don't have the Canada calling plan and it's ridiculously expensive for me to call anybody that I know. (But I have unlimited texting, so that's good!) Overall, tres frustrating.
The next couple days were spent getting to know my roommate, unpacking more, sitting through a stats review, getting lost on campus, sorting out my student card, getting registered with the university as an International student (which I had to try to do twice, because the first time I went they wouldn't let me register because I got lost and was a few minutes late), and just trying to settle in.
Then, Thursday I was supposed to go to an International students orientation, which I decided to skip because I took a look at the schedule and it was all "Learning English U.S. Greetings" and "Name Pronunciation", and I figured I pretty much have that down pat. So instead, Mom and I decided to check out the shopping at this huge mall. But in the mall we got separated, and in trying to call her on my brand-spanking-new phone to see where she was, I realized something: IT DIDN'T WORK. I couldn't dial out, I couldn't text, I couldn't get any calls in... I was lugging around a useless piece of plastic. So, after finding each other, Mom and I drove back across the city to the AT&T store to figure out why they sold me a faulty phone. As it turns out there wasn't anything significantly wrong... they just needed to reset it, and they showed me how to do it in case it happens again. And while I was there I asked about the Canada calling thing and why AT&T were being such assholes about it, and they chatted amongst themselves for a bit and decided that one of the staff members had an in with a guy in the International Calling department, and they'd get it sorted out for me within the next 72 hours and give me a call to let me know what was going on. (They never called... but I'm going to worry about that later).
So, we grabbed some lunch at a nearby restaurant, then headed back into the Super Target to pick up a few things I had forgotten I needed (like a small tool set... a girl can't live without her screwdrivers!). Then back out to the car to head home... the car that once again WOULD NOT START. Chazz has decided he likes leaving me stranded in parking lots, apparently. This time, in the rain. Once again, the battery was dead... but nobody else in the parking lot seemed to have jumper cables to give me a boost (although looking back I'm pretty sure Super Target probably had some I could have bought... damn hindsight.) So, once again I have to call the dealership to let them know that the battery they installed 2 days earlier is dead, and I'm stuck AGAIN. They ended up sending a tow-truck to boost me and follow me to the dealership to make sure I got there ok, then after a half hour of waiting to see what's wrong they inform me that the alternator went, and they somehow missed it 2 days earlier when they did the full diagnostic check. And the part won't be in until Monday (luckily, it's covered under warranty. And I think they're going to reimburse me for the new battery, which I didn't actually need). So now I'm driving a teeny-tiny blue Toyota Corrolla (which the dealership is paying for, thank god) and hoping that picking up my car doesn't interfere with the orientation activities next week. Although ironically when I was waiting at the Ford dealership for said tiny little car, I made friends with an incoming Duke Law student, whose car also left him stranded in a parking lot. So I wasn't the only one!
Anyways, like I said it's been a frustrating first few days... but I've finally finished unpacking and organizing, my car troubles should *hopefully* be done with as of Monday, my phone is somewhat sorted out, and I have all the forms I need to get a Social Security Number (I need one, because I'll be working for the university). So things are getting done and sorted out. And I refuse to let any of this get to me. I'm in the beginning stages of doing what I always said I wanted to do, and that in itself is an amazing thing. And really, dreams are dreams because you have to work for them, right? I'm going to call this "paying my dues" and move on, because in the end it will all be worth it.
And next week, the real work begins!
Let's start with the fact that it took us FOREVER to get through Pennsylvania. No joke. I'm pretty sure Pennsylvania is like the black hole of the U.S. Just when you think you've escaped, it sucks you back in. Point in fact: during our second day of driving, we got stuck on the interstate for AN HOUR, literally not moving. Then, when we finally did get moving, it was only to realize that the entire interstate was closed because of some sort of accident. Yes, they CLOSED the interstate. Which meant a lot of back-roading, driving down roads that I'm not even sure were roads, and somehow ending up in Gettysburg (about 2 farther west than we should have been.... seeing as we were travelling east). Then, when we finally made our way to another interstate, we got stuck in traffic for ANOTHER hour because of construction. So it took us probably about 6 hours on our second driving day to get through a state that we should have left far behind on the first day. Which meant an exhausting day all around, but overall not too bad.
The real problems started the day after that, when I was supposed to be moving in to my new place. The first order of business that day was getting a cell phone, since roaming on my Canadian phone pretty much costs a fortune. Now, I did my homework before leaving. I looked up all the different U.S. phone services I could think of, checked out the service maps to make sure I could get good reception in my area, read suggestions from other Duke students as to which cell companies worked best in what areas, looked at long distance rates, figured out who had the cheapest phone plans that could be combined with Canada calling, and finally decided on Sprint. I even knew what model of phone I wanted, and where their biggest location was in the Durham area. So, having punched the address into my trusty GPS ("Mandy"), we were off to a good start. But, when we finally got to the Sprint store, we had to stand and wait for a clerk who assured us "I'll be with y'all in a minute!" So, we waited. And waited. And waited. And.... you got it!... waited. Finally, about 20 minutes after walking into the store, the clerk wanders over and drawls "what can I help y'all with?" (yes, I'm truly in the south!). So, I tell her exactly what phone plan, long distance plan, and cell model I need, feeling sufficiently organized. However, my organization really didn't seem to matter, seeing as the clerk informed me that none of their phones in the store supported long-distance calling or roaming, and if I wanted that I would have to buy the newest Blackberry (the "Curve" I believe?), which would have interchangeable SIM cards. And to my "but... but... the Internet told me!" argument, she replied that the phones and plans I saw on the Internet were only available if I ordered online (which wasn't posted with the plans, so how would I know that?). But since I really don't have the time to wait for my phone to be ordered, and shipped, and (with my luck) probably lost somewhere along the way, I had to sadly decline.
So, next stop was Verizon Wireless, where the clerks were nice and attentive, but the phone plans were horrendously expensive. So, U.S. cell companies: 2. Robyn: 0.
So back to the car to search for another phone company. The boiling hot, full-to-the-brim, fogged-up-with-humidity car. The car which WOULD NOT START. The car which had been serviced THREE DAYS EARLIER, and had a full system check, and that I had to pay a ridiculous, heart-stopping amount of money to replace the worn-out brakes for. Yup, THAT car. So I'm sitting in the parking lot, with no idea who to call or what to do. Luckily I remembered that when I had my car in at Campbell Ford 3 days earlier I had asked about dealerships in Durham, just in case anything like this were to happen, and they had nicely stapled a list of 4 or 5 in the area. So, I picked a random dealership off the list and started dialing. They told me to call another dealership. So I called the other dealership... they told me to call U.S. Roadside Assistance. So I called them, went through all the automated steps, stayed on hold for 10 minutes (melting, by the way, and all this on my Canadian cell... I REALLY don't want to see my phone bill...), and they told me to call Canadian Roadside Assistance, since my vehicle was Canadian. So I called THEM, and they told me they'd call AAA and call back to let me know when a tow-truck was coming. They never called back. So I was STILL sitting in the boiling hot car, in the Verizon parking lot, with the hood up (although I had no idea what I was looking at anyways), waiting for some kind soul to take pity and help me out. Luckily the same Verizon clerk I had been dealing with earlier noticed my pathetic situation and offered me a boost, which meant I could drive to the closest Ford dealership myself and hopefully get my car looked at. I finally got Chazz to the dealership down the street, where after half an hour of waiting they informed me that the battery had died (duh) and they could replace it within 5 minutes. So, one battery and an unexpected car bill later, I was back on the road and heading to my new apartment.
Quick happy interlude: the townhouse I'm living in is small, but GORGEOUS. My roommate is really nice and I think we'll get along fine, and my room is pretty great. I have my own bathroom, and the closet is HUGE (which is good, because there's no dresser to put my clothes in. And I have A LOT of clothes.) So the rest of the day was spent unloading my car, bringing my stuff up to my room, trying to unpack, realizing I had a lot of stuff I needed to buy (ie: hangers) before I could actually unpack, then driving to a Super Target to pick up a bunch of stuff.
Right beside the Super Target was an AT&T store, and although I said that I would never sign on with AT&T again (I had some issues when I was with them in Boston), my roommate said that they were pretty good in this area and they were pretty much my only other option, so I decided to check it out. The whole process of finding a phone and plan was pretty easy actually. I had figured out what I wanted about 5 minutes after walking through the door. But the problems came when I was actually trying to create my account. Since I'm Canadian, and don't have a Social Security Number, they REALLY didn't want to give me a phone. Not even when I had already had a phone with the company, 8 months earlier. Not even when they found my existing account on file, and saw that I had already built up a decent credit rating with them. No, since I didn't have an SSN, they wanted a $500 deposit, which I would get back after a year. But, even after I agreed to pay the $500 (not happily, but I really do need a phone), they somehow couldn't sign me up, because I was missing an SSN and the generic SSN they use for people in my situation wasn't working. So it was literally an hour before they could get me all set up, but I DID get a phone in the end (with the deposit bumped down to $100, since they decided my credit rating from my last AT&T phone was good enough), although they informed me that I would have to call customer service to add on the $3.99/month Canada Calling feature because for some reason they couldn't do it in the store. No problem, right? WRONG. Once again, because I don't have an SSN, to get this $3.99/month feature added to my plan, I would either have to go back to the store, have them fax in a copy of my passport, driver's license and lease agreement (which I really don't want to do... why does AT&T need a copy of my passport??), and then call customer service back again and MAYBE they could set me up. Or, I could wait 3 months and try again. So, as it stands, I don't have the Canada calling plan and it's ridiculously expensive for me to call anybody that I know. (But I have unlimited texting, so that's good!) Overall, tres frustrating.
The next couple days were spent getting to know my roommate, unpacking more, sitting through a stats review, getting lost on campus, sorting out my student card, getting registered with the university as an International student (which I had to try to do twice, because the first time I went they wouldn't let me register because I got lost and was a few minutes late), and just trying to settle in.
Then, Thursday I was supposed to go to an International students orientation, which I decided to skip because I took a look at the schedule and it was all "Learning English U.S. Greetings" and "Name Pronunciation", and I figured I pretty much have that down pat. So instead, Mom and I decided to check out the shopping at this huge mall. But in the mall we got separated, and in trying to call her on my brand-spanking-new phone to see where she was, I realized something: IT DIDN'T WORK. I couldn't dial out, I couldn't text, I couldn't get any calls in... I was lugging around a useless piece of plastic. So, after finding each other, Mom and I drove back across the city to the AT&T store to figure out why they sold me a faulty phone. As it turns out there wasn't anything significantly wrong... they just needed to reset it, and they showed me how to do it in case it happens again. And while I was there I asked about the Canada calling thing and why AT&T were being such assholes about it, and they chatted amongst themselves for a bit and decided that one of the staff members had an in with a guy in the International Calling department, and they'd get it sorted out for me within the next 72 hours and give me a call to let me know what was going on. (They never called... but I'm going to worry about that later).
So, we grabbed some lunch at a nearby restaurant, then headed back into the Super Target to pick up a few things I had forgotten I needed (like a small tool set... a girl can't live without her screwdrivers!). Then back out to the car to head home... the car that once again WOULD NOT START. Chazz has decided he likes leaving me stranded in parking lots, apparently. This time, in the rain. Once again, the battery was dead... but nobody else in the parking lot seemed to have jumper cables to give me a boost (although looking back I'm pretty sure Super Target probably had some I could have bought... damn hindsight.) So, once again I have to call the dealership to let them know that the battery they installed 2 days earlier is dead, and I'm stuck AGAIN. They ended up sending a tow-truck to boost me and follow me to the dealership to make sure I got there ok, then after a half hour of waiting to see what's wrong they inform me that the alternator went, and they somehow missed it 2 days earlier when they did the full diagnostic check. And the part won't be in until Monday (luckily, it's covered under warranty. And I think they're going to reimburse me for the new battery, which I didn't actually need). So now I'm driving a teeny-tiny blue Toyota Corrolla (which the dealership is paying for, thank god) and hoping that picking up my car doesn't interfere with the orientation activities next week. Although ironically when I was waiting at the Ford dealership for said tiny little car, I made friends with an incoming Duke Law student, whose car also left him stranded in a parking lot. So I wasn't the only one!
Anyways, like I said it's been a frustrating first few days... but I've finally finished unpacking and organizing, my car troubles should *hopefully* be done with as of Monday, my phone is somewhat sorted out, and I have all the forms I need to get a Social Security Number (I need one, because I'll be working for the university). So things are getting done and sorted out. And I refuse to let any of this get to me. I'm in the beginning stages of doing what I always said I wanted to do, and that in itself is an amazing thing. And really, dreams are dreams because you have to work for them, right? I'm going to call this "paying my dues" and move on, because in the end it will all be worth it.
And next week, the real work begins!
Sunday, August 10, 2008
I Don't Believe in Omens.
Some people believe in a little thing called "fate" or "destiny". That some greater force is at work, pulling strings and sending us on our paths, hitting us up with a million little "signs" along the way letting us know if we're heading in the right direction, or dissuading us from going farther down a particular road. These are the "Everything Happens For a Reason" people.
Luckily, while I'm a firm believer that everything always works out in the end, this whole idea of "signs" and "omens" is not one I subscribe to. And it's a good thing, too, because if I did then I probably would have gotten a little suspicious when yesterday, every time I tried to pack my car it started pouring. And this morning when, right after saying "Ok, guess it's time to go..." I stepped in a big puddle of some doggy's regurgitated breakfast (barefoot) and had to spend a few minutes being grossed out and cleaning up. And when I tried to drive away with my car running only on the battery and not actually turned on, I would have questioned whether or not leaving was a good idea. Throw in the poor little bird who I hit on the way to Brockville, and the fact that it stormed on and off all the way through Pennsylvania, and I would have been thinking I should have never gotten out of bed.
But, if I really did believe in omens, the point where I would have absolutely turned around and gone home would have been when, just before arriving at the border crossing, I saw another poor little bird lying dead in the middle of the road. A robin. My namesake, smeared across the center line. As if fate were telling me that if I were to continue on, to leave my country and everything I know, I could very well end up like that unfortunate piece of roadkill.
Luckily, I don't believe in omens.
But truthfully, that didn't stop the sneaky claws of fear from digging into me and hanging on, inducing a few moments of sheer panic and silent "what the eff am I doing??" freakouts. But then, some random lyrics popped into my head... some flowy, guitar-laden song whose name and artist escapes me at the moment, but who claims "fear is a friend who's misunderstood". Which, if you think about it, is completely true. While fear may stop some from doing what they want to do, it ultimately just challenges us to be the best and bravest version of ourselves. Without fear, there would be none of the ecstatic and proud feelings of achievement. So, in sticking with the theme of the song, I accepted fear as my friend. And all of a sudden, it wasn't so scary anymore. However, some of my uncertainties still remained, along with some left-over baggage that I probably should have dealt with long ago... but I knew exactly what to do with it.
Since I got my own car (lovingly called "Chazz") back in January, I've had this little mind-trick that I use when things build up and get to be too much. I go for a long drive, during which I think about whatever it may be that's bothering me or holding me back. I picture all these negative thoughts and feelings draining out of my body and filling up the car, until it's all out of me and Chazz is filled to the brim. Then, I open my sun roof and watch them all fly out into the sunshine, flung into the universe to disperse at will. Yes, it's corny. But it works. So, that's exactly what I did. All my uncertainties and fears and "what ifs" got tossed out the window like old garbage (but not really, because I'm now a good little environmental student, and I would never litter...), and I made my way through New York and Pennsylvania a lot lighter than before.
So, a bunch of hours, a few hundred kilometers, a back-road adventure, a few massively amazing gothic-style stone railway bridges and 162 songs later, Mom and I are lying in a hotel room in somewhere Pennsylvania, 7 hours away from my final destination. Tomorrow I'll get into my new city. The day after, I'll move into my new house. The day after that, I'll attend my first review session at my new school. Everything's new again. And while that thought is both exciting and slightly terrifying, I know that this fear is only going to push me to be a better and stronger version of myself. And for this, I can't wait.
Luckily, while I'm a firm believer that everything always works out in the end, this whole idea of "signs" and "omens" is not one I subscribe to. And it's a good thing, too, because if I did then I probably would have gotten a little suspicious when yesterday, every time I tried to pack my car it started pouring. And this morning when, right after saying "Ok, guess it's time to go..." I stepped in a big puddle of some doggy's regurgitated breakfast (barefoot) and had to spend a few minutes being grossed out and cleaning up. And when I tried to drive away with my car running only on the battery and not actually turned on, I would have questioned whether or not leaving was a good idea. Throw in the poor little bird who I hit on the way to Brockville, and the fact that it stormed on and off all the way through Pennsylvania, and I would have been thinking I should have never gotten out of bed.
But, if I really did believe in omens, the point where I would have absolutely turned around and gone home would have been when, just before arriving at the border crossing, I saw another poor little bird lying dead in the middle of the road. A robin. My namesake, smeared across the center line. As if fate were telling me that if I were to continue on, to leave my country and everything I know, I could very well end up like that unfortunate piece of roadkill.
Luckily, I don't believe in omens.
But truthfully, that didn't stop the sneaky claws of fear from digging into me and hanging on, inducing a few moments of sheer panic and silent "what the eff am I doing??" freakouts. But then, some random lyrics popped into my head... some flowy, guitar-laden song whose name and artist escapes me at the moment, but who claims "fear is a friend who's misunderstood". Which, if you think about it, is completely true. While fear may stop some from doing what they want to do, it ultimately just challenges us to be the best and bravest version of ourselves. Without fear, there would be none of the ecstatic and proud feelings of achievement. So, in sticking with the theme of the song, I accepted fear as my friend. And all of a sudden, it wasn't so scary anymore. However, some of my uncertainties still remained, along with some left-over baggage that I probably should have dealt with long ago... but I knew exactly what to do with it.
Since I got my own car (lovingly called "Chazz") back in January, I've had this little mind-trick that I use when things build up and get to be too much. I go for a long drive, during which I think about whatever it may be that's bothering me or holding me back. I picture all these negative thoughts and feelings draining out of my body and filling up the car, until it's all out of me and Chazz is filled to the brim. Then, I open my sun roof and watch them all fly out into the sunshine, flung into the universe to disperse at will. Yes, it's corny. But it works. So, that's exactly what I did. All my uncertainties and fears and "what ifs" got tossed out the window like old garbage (but not really, because I'm now a good little environmental student, and I would never litter...), and I made my way through New York and Pennsylvania a lot lighter than before.
So, a bunch of hours, a few hundred kilometers, a back-road adventure, a few massively amazing gothic-style stone railway bridges and 162 songs later, Mom and I are lying in a hotel room in somewhere Pennsylvania, 7 hours away from my final destination. Tomorrow I'll get into my new city. The day after, I'll move into my new house. The day after that, I'll attend my first review session at my new school. Everything's new again. And while that thought is both exciting and slightly terrifying, I know that this fear is only going to push me to be a better and stronger version of myself. And for this, I can't wait.
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