So I applied for my visa on the 19th of this month. Divya and Shanthi, from IQ Education Consultants (they're the ones who said they'd handle my visa, remember?) had been preparing all the paperwork for me, as well as fixing my appointment, and basically handling everything.
Shanthi made me sit my IELTS last month too. I didn't want to, because it wasn't necessary according to the uni, but she insisted. She said that it would make my visa application stronger, and so I sat the thing.
The Reading and Listening sections were easiest for me; you just filled in words exactly as you read/heard them. Writing was slightly harder, but I think that's a given, since you need to write entire paragraphs.
The Speaking section was an entirely different matter.
I could go back in time and happily whack myself in the head for the stupidity that I spouted at that Speaking interview. Bear in mind that I didn't take any courses for this exam or anything - I'd just bought myself one of those IELTS preparation books (utterly useless things, believe me. I think they were meant for kindergartners or serious beginners to the English language).
After I greeted the examiner, she turned on a little recording device. That completely threw me off. My eyes fixated on it immediately, and I found myself leaning forward a little and trying to speak at the recorder instead of to the examiner at some points. And oh my God, the subject matter of the interview...
I kept my eyes on her face to see how I was doing, but her expressions gave nothing away. She kind of just...smiled, as if to encourage me, through the whole thing. She didn't react to what I was saying. She asked me to describe an event in my life that made me laugh, and I recounted the time that my brother shaved more than half his eyebrows off on each side. I usually have people snorting and hitting their knees with this story. She just kept smiling.
Her final "abstract topic" question was to ask me how I thought humour could be used to benefit international relations. I ask you. I was silent for a good two minutes, racking my brains for anything that could be classified as international, and I kid you not, I just blurted out Obama's name. I can barely remember what on earth I talked about, but I know that I ended the speech with Ellen DeGeneres.
I was so convinced that I'd failed that stupid IELTS exam, but I actually did pretty well. I scored an 8.0 for the Speaking section (no one was more surprised at that than I was), and got a band score of 8.0, which is pretty high when the maximum is 9.0. I was actually most disappointed with the picture that they used on the Test Report Form - I looked so high, it's not even funny. In my defense, I had to wake up at like 5:00 AM to be there in time for the test.
Anyway.
So I applied for the visa on the 19th, like I said. Shanthi had filed all the documents I needed and handed them to me earlier, so I just had to go in and give that, and have my fingerprints and all taken.
Yesterday, at like 7:00 AM, when all reasonable people are sleeping, my mobile phone rang. The guy on the other end said that he had my passport, and that they'd courier it to me that day itself. Around 11:00 AM, they did arrive with it, and hooray, my visa was here!
So this time, shit's real. I called up Adnan and demanded he buy me a going-away present. I then tried to wheedle the same out of Dad, but he finds it easier to say no to me, having practiced that arcane art all my life.
Mum's easier to handle; I think she's a lot more excited to go shopping than I am, in fact. White I'm thinking about essentials like stylish backpacks, she's thinking about whether or not I should buy bedsheets from here.
Mothers. They really need to get their priorities straightened out.
Showing posts with label visa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label visa. Show all posts
Saturday, July 28, 2012
Saturday, March 24, 2012
I'm Back
I've been gone for a while now, I know.
I couldn't bring myself back here. I did think about it, a couple of times, but ultimately decided against it because not much good was going on, and I didn't want to be depressing on my blog. Today, I kind of kicked myself back into it. Figured I was being depressing by acting depressed about the blog in the first place.
Let's see.
A few weeks ago (2 weeks now, I think), I met with the international officer for the uni. He'd been doing a tour thing of the Middle East. Very nice guy, name of Fahd Ali Asif. To meet him, I had to go through Dundee's representative here in Dubai, which is a firm called IQ Education Consultants. Can I just say, I am EXTREMELY glad that I managed to make this meeting?
I'd been nervous about the whole thing, of course, thinking that it was some sort of informal interview. Might be a bit of a stretch, but I assumed that the debacle of last year led the uni to thinking me mad and sent someone to ensure that they weren't taking on a complete nutter. Wasn't the case, of course, but really, I wasn't in a state of mind that let me think very rationally.
Mum came with me. While in the cab, she asked if she might come in as well, and I expressly forbade it. I didn't want him thinking I needed my mother around me to handle the grown-up talks, of all things. She huffed and settled back into her seat, but acquiesced.
When we reached, I was introduced to a woman called Divya, who was a very nice lady that got me to sign something stating I'd met with Mr. Asif. She also handed me a prospectus for the uni, which was nice. I love those kinds of things; it makes everything seem so much more real.
When she invited me into the room where Mr. Asif was (I had to wait for about a half hour, but I wasn't bored, not with my new prospectus!), I got to my feet and moved toward the door. From behind, I heard her voice say, "Ma'am, you can go in too, if you'd like."
I whipped around as fast as I could, already halfway through protesting, when my mother breezed past me in an elegant sort of fast trot and straight into the room. I have a feeling she was waiting to be asked. Because if that was merely the speed of her reaction, then it is completely unfair that I was not blessed with an equally impressive reaction time. "THINK FAST!" doesn't work on me, and never has. Whatever you throw will hit me, and I will cry about the unfairness of it all.
But I'm going off-topic.
Mum was already shaking hands with Mr. Asif when I entered the room, so I (sighed inwardly and) introduced myself before taking a seat next to her. It was all very pleasant, and not at all interview-like. He was there to answer MY questions, it turned out. Thankfully, that scenario had also occurred to me in my nightmares about this whole meeting, so I had a few questions I could pull out of the back of my mind. Divya sat in as well, and answered a couple of questions I had about the visa part of it all.
Interview over, shake hands again, leave room in an excellent mood (ignoring Mum at this point). I was stopped leaving, though. This is the part where my extreme gratitude to the world comes in.
Divya and a co-worker explained to me that, since I was meeting with a university rep of a uni that they were representing, they could also take on my case completely free. If I'd applied through them to a university that they were not affiliated with, there would have been a fee. Or at least, that's what I'd gathered.
When they told me that this also meant that they would be handling my visa application as well (with a track record of 100% visa-application success), I genuinely felt this massive weight lifted from my shoulders. Having to do it alone last year was a bummer, and them offering to do the very thing I was dreading doing all over again...well. I am relieved.
They also handle my relations with the university, in the sense that I ask them the questions, and they ask the university and then get back to me. Not nice of me, but that's kind of a relief as well, in the sense that I felt I was being a massively royal pain because of the number of e-mails I sent to the university direct. They were always nice enough and prompt with their replies, but that didn't stop me from feeling like I was asking too many questions that should be common sense. So having something akin to a liaison officer is just what I needed.
Divya is handling my case now. She's awesome. I'm starting to expect replies to my e-mails within the hour; she's that prompt.
Anyway.
Outside of that...we went fishing last week. My first time ever. SO fun. I fully intend to go again.
But this post is long enough, so I'll talk about that later.
Ja ne.
I couldn't bring myself back here. I did think about it, a couple of times, but ultimately decided against it because not much good was going on, and I didn't want to be depressing on my blog. Today, I kind of kicked myself back into it. Figured I was being depressing by acting depressed about the blog in the first place.
Let's see.
A few weeks ago (2 weeks now, I think), I met with the international officer for the uni. He'd been doing a tour thing of the Middle East. Very nice guy, name of Fahd Ali Asif. To meet him, I had to go through Dundee's representative here in Dubai, which is a firm called IQ Education Consultants. Can I just say, I am EXTREMELY glad that I managed to make this meeting?
I'd been nervous about the whole thing, of course, thinking that it was some sort of informal interview. Might be a bit of a stretch, but I assumed that the debacle of last year led the uni to thinking me mad and sent someone to ensure that they weren't taking on a complete nutter. Wasn't the case, of course, but really, I wasn't in a state of mind that let me think very rationally.
Mum came with me. While in the cab, she asked if she might come in as well, and I expressly forbade it. I didn't want him thinking I needed my mother around me to handle the grown-up talks, of all things. She huffed and settled back into her seat, but acquiesced.
When we reached, I was introduced to a woman called Divya, who was a very nice lady that got me to sign something stating I'd met with Mr. Asif. She also handed me a prospectus for the uni, which was nice. I love those kinds of things; it makes everything seem so much more real.
When she invited me into the room where Mr. Asif was (I had to wait for about a half hour, but I wasn't bored, not with my new prospectus!), I got to my feet and moved toward the door. From behind, I heard her voice say, "Ma'am, you can go in too, if you'd like."
I whipped around as fast as I could, already halfway through protesting, when my mother breezed past me in an elegant sort of fast trot and straight into the room. I have a feeling she was waiting to be asked. Because if that was merely the speed of her reaction, then it is completely unfair that I was not blessed with an equally impressive reaction time. "THINK FAST!" doesn't work on me, and never has. Whatever you throw will hit me, and I will cry about the unfairness of it all.
But I'm going off-topic.
Mum was already shaking hands with Mr. Asif when I entered the room, so I (sighed inwardly and) introduced myself before taking a seat next to her. It was all very pleasant, and not at all interview-like. He was there to answer MY questions, it turned out. Thankfully, that scenario had also occurred to me in my nightmares about this whole meeting, so I had a few questions I could pull out of the back of my mind. Divya sat in as well, and answered a couple of questions I had about the visa part of it all.
Interview over, shake hands again, leave room in an excellent mood (ignoring Mum at this point). I was stopped leaving, though. This is the part where my extreme gratitude to the world comes in.
Divya and a co-worker explained to me that, since I was meeting with a university rep of a uni that they were representing, they could also take on my case completely free. If I'd applied through them to a university that they were not affiliated with, there would have been a fee. Or at least, that's what I'd gathered.
When they told me that this also meant that they would be handling my visa application as well (with a track record of 100% visa-application success), I genuinely felt this massive weight lifted from my shoulders. Having to do it alone last year was a bummer, and them offering to do the very thing I was dreading doing all over again...well. I am relieved.
They also handle my relations with the university, in the sense that I ask them the questions, and they ask the university and then get back to me. Not nice of me, but that's kind of a relief as well, in the sense that I felt I was being a massively royal pain because of the number of e-mails I sent to the university direct. They were always nice enough and prompt with their replies, but that didn't stop me from feeling like I was asking too many questions that should be common sense. So having something akin to a liaison officer is just what I needed.
Divya is handling my case now. She's awesome. I'm starting to expect replies to my e-mails within the hour; she's that prompt.
Anyway.
Outside of that...we went fishing last week. My first time ever. SO fun. I fully intend to go again.
But this post is long enough, so I'll talk about that later.
Ja ne.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Just Wash Your Cares Away
I haven't blogged about it because it seemed too final. I didn't want it to be set in stone yet.
The time has come (oh wow. I didn't realize how dramatic it would sound until I wrote it out.)
Basically, I couldn't get my visa in time. The last date to join the university was apparently the 26th of Sept. Since we applied late for the visa (Dad switched jobs, meaning a whole new residence visa, meaning having to wait to apply, meaning I didn't get it in time), it is entirely our fault. But, things happen for the best, I guess. If Mum had been with me in Scotland, chances are she wouldn't have been able to get to Sri Lanka in time for her father's funeral.
So I'm taking a gap year and applying to Dundee for the 2012 term. I was so massively disappointed, but oh well. I suppose it'll be nice to be stress-free for a year. Plus dad feels so guilty about the whole thing, he's promising me gifts left right and center. It's quite nice. I doubt I'll ever quit being Daddy's Darling, really, but this is lavish even for him. Not that I'm not taking advantage of it. Because I was seriously upset.
Mum got back yesterday from Lanka. She's much better now, disregarding the increase in headaches she's apparently suffering from.
This entire week, I've had to take care of the house. My god, you never quite realize what you have until it's gone. I swept the entire house the other day (not the entire house. Not the third floor, because no one ever goes up there), and I'm telling you now, there is no exercise like a sweeping exercise. I was sweating so much! I can't believe that Mum does this on a regular basis. Given that I positively hate any sort of weight-reduction exercise that isn't fun (oh how I loathe the gym. Give me dancing any day), it was just awful. Mum must be in much better shape than me, really. I am never challenging her to a race again - not that she ever accepts. I think she hates running as much as I do. We're quite lazy people, really.
At first, I relished the thought that I had the keys to Mum's BMW and could go out whenever I liked. But oh my god, it turns into such a pain. I had to pick Aehshaan up from the metro station every single day, and then go to the mall and do the grocery shopping and buy lunch. I had no idea that eggs ran out so fast. Or bread. Lord, the bread.
And Shamiana is a COMPLETE AND UTTER rip-off. 38 Dhs for just two curries! One small butter chicken curry and one daal (dhal? dal?) curry! Dad wanted curry, so we went there, but holy cow, such a waste of money.
Never going there again. Ever.
And then there was the fact that I had to take care of the dog. We delegated the tasks of taking him out to morning and night sessions. I got the night sessions, since Aehshaan is deaf to everything once his head hits the pillow. I don't think I've got a full night's sleep this entire bloody week. And then I had to wake up at 7:30 in the morning to give him his breakfast. The one time I thought it would be okay to just give it to him at 9:00 a.m, I discovered that my dog thinks that he is royalty and will not eat his food unless given at the proper time.
He was as happy as I was to see my mother, though. It was quite cute. His ears and head went down and he went snuffling around her legs, around and around, jumping onto her and trying to give her face a good lick. He did that weird shivering thing with his fur that he does when he gets super happy to see someone.
Which is only ever someone from the four of us, seeing as he's a bit mad.
Since I've lost my house key (again) and Aehshaan kept forgetting to leave his before he went to school, I couldn't leave through the front door when I had to go and pick him up and all. I had to go through the kitchen, lock the door from the inside, and then take the backdoor out. The first time I did that and came back in through the kitchen, Bruno was standing out there with his head tilted to the side as if to say, "Well. Alright then, if that's where you want to live now."
My best friend Adnan's birthday is tomorrow, but he has family coming over so we hung out yesterday instead. I was going absolutely mad looking for a present for him. I asked him what his favourite thing in the world was at the moment (I meant material goods. Clearly.) and he said, I kid you not, "Boobies and titties."
So then I remembered that he'd been asking for a Canon Mug for literally over a year, and I saw one at MOE the other day, so I decided to get that for him. But then while we were on the phone, I zoned out (he talks a lot) and suddenly when I got back he just kept saying, "Canon Mug. Canon Mug. Canon Mug." And I was like, in absolute horror, How did you know?! And then it turns out he didn't know what I was getting him, but he was asking for it. So that was that.
In the end, I got him a t-shirt that said Parkour Man on the front (a long-running joke between us) and Shimali's Best Friend on the back. I thought it was a pretty damned good gift, meself.
Someone asked me the other day if Adnan really could Parkour. And I said, "No, but he thinks he can. He falls a lot."
That's it for now, this post is long enough.
Ja.
The time has come (oh wow. I didn't realize how dramatic it would sound until I wrote it out.)
Basically, I couldn't get my visa in time. The last date to join the university was apparently the 26th of Sept. Since we applied late for the visa (Dad switched jobs, meaning a whole new residence visa, meaning having to wait to apply, meaning I didn't get it in time), it is entirely our fault. But, things happen for the best, I guess. If Mum had been with me in Scotland, chances are she wouldn't have been able to get to Sri Lanka in time for her father's funeral.
So I'm taking a gap year and applying to Dundee for the 2012 term. I was so massively disappointed, but oh well. I suppose it'll be nice to be stress-free for a year. Plus dad feels so guilty about the whole thing, he's promising me gifts left right and center. It's quite nice. I doubt I'll ever quit being Daddy's Darling, really, but this is lavish even for him. Not that I'm not taking advantage of it. Because I was seriously upset.
Mum got back yesterday from Lanka. She's much better now, disregarding the increase in headaches she's apparently suffering from.
This entire week, I've had to take care of the house. My god, you never quite realize what you have until it's gone. I swept the entire house the other day (not the entire house. Not the third floor, because no one ever goes up there), and I'm telling you now, there is no exercise like a sweeping exercise. I was sweating so much! I can't believe that Mum does this on a regular basis. Given that I positively hate any sort of weight-reduction exercise that isn't fun (oh how I loathe the gym. Give me dancing any day), it was just awful. Mum must be in much better shape than me, really. I am never challenging her to a race again - not that she ever accepts. I think she hates running as much as I do. We're quite lazy people, really.
At first, I relished the thought that I had the keys to Mum's BMW and could go out whenever I liked. But oh my god, it turns into such a pain. I had to pick Aehshaan up from the metro station every single day, and then go to the mall and do the grocery shopping and buy lunch. I had no idea that eggs ran out so fast. Or bread. Lord, the bread.
And Shamiana is a COMPLETE AND UTTER rip-off. 38 Dhs for just two curries! One small butter chicken curry and one daal (dhal? dal?) curry! Dad wanted curry, so we went there, but holy cow, such a waste of money.
Never going there again. Ever.
And then there was the fact that I had to take care of the dog. We delegated the tasks of taking him out to morning and night sessions. I got the night sessions, since Aehshaan is deaf to everything once his head hits the pillow. I don't think I've got a full night's sleep this entire bloody week. And then I had to wake up at 7:30 in the morning to give him his breakfast. The one time I thought it would be okay to just give it to him at 9:00 a.m, I discovered that my dog thinks that he is royalty and will not eat his food unless given at the proper time.
He was as happy as I was to see my mother, though. It was quite cute. His ears and head went down and he went snuffling around her legs, around and around, jumping onto her and trying to give her face a good lick. He did that weird shivering thing with his fur that he does when he gets super happy to see someone.
Which is only ever someone from the four of us, seeing as he's a bit mad.
Since I've lost my house key (again) and Aehshaan kept forgetting to leave his before he went to school, I couldn't leave through the front door when I had to go and pick him up and all. I had to go through the kitchen, lock the door from the inside, and then take the backdoor out. The first time I did that and came back in through the kitchen, Bruno was standing out there with his head tilted to the side as if to say, "Well. Alright then, if that's where you want to live now."
My best friend Adnan's birthday is tomorrow, but he has family coming over so we hung out yesterday instead. I was going absolutely mad looking for a present for him. I asked him what his favourite thing in the world was at the moment (I meant material goods. Clearly.) and he said, I kid you not, "Boobies and titties."
So then I remembered that he'd been asking for a Canon Mug for literally over a year, and I saw one at MOE the other day, so I decided to get that for him. But then while we were on the phone, I zoned out (he talks a lot) and suddenly when I got back he just kept saying, "Canon Mug. Canon Mug. Canon Mug." And I was like, in absolute horror, How did you know?! And then it turns out he didn't know what I was getting him, but he was asking for it. So that was that.
In the end, I got him a t-shirt that said Parkour Man on the front (a long-running joke between us) and Shimali's Best Friend on the back. I thought it was a pretty damned good gift, meself.
Someone asked me the other day if Adnan really could Parkour. And I said, "No, but he thinks he can. He falls a lot."
That's it for now, this post is long enough.
Ja.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
MIA
This visa thing is frustrating. I know this is like the hundredth post I have up here regarding that, but seriously. I've already missed a week of my course. Tomorrow will start the next week I'm going to be absent for. I'm just so worried about how I'm going to catch up, even though I know the professors will help and all.
This girl I've met via facebook that's on the architecture course, Emily, added me to a group dedicated to the first year architects. I had a look at some of the discussions - they're already talking about presentations! As in, they've done them. And lord, I have monster stage fright. I've been onstage before - school plays, master of ceremonies for a couple of occasions, and so on. My knees literally shake; I always make sure to wear a dress or skirt of something, to cover it up. Looking at my face, I'm told, you can't tell I'm about to pass out. But I really am.
As it goes on, and I know that the audience is not about to burst out laughing (unless I've just thrown in a joke or something), it gets better. The knees don't, but the suffocated feeling in my chest does alleviate a little. I suppose as I do more presentations in class, I'll get over it. And I'll be friends with them, so I guess it won't be as daunting as a stage audience. But still.
The point is I have to catch up, and do presentations on the caught up work. And I don't have any casual skirts. I've only ever worn formal dresses to the times I needed to be MC, or my school uniform (long skirt on the days of speeches and presentations and such). HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO HIDE MY KNEES?
Right, first thing in the morning, I'm going out and buying skirts. Whatever. I can do this.
Emily has been great. She's offered to help me catch up once I get there, which is a huge load off. Teachers are good, but I've always found studying with classmates much more effective. I'm not sure if this is a universal thing or just me, but there you go. I studied for my A-Levels by forcing my brother study in my room at the same time - he'd quiz me when I asked, which was actually a massive help for physics. He has a knack for asking questions that miraculously appear on the paper. And saying the answers out loud to him helped make it stick.
On a different note, I really, truly cannot wait to meet my new flatmates. They've done just the sweetest thing. I received an invite on fb to an event, so I checked it out. Guess what it's called?
"Party for Shimali."
Since I missed out on freshers', they've decided to throw a little thing in my honour, and I am completely, utterly touched. Tears of joy, I swear to God, were there. (Side note: I'm an annoyingly emotional person. I cried, full on sobs, for Spiderman 3, when [SPOILER ALERT] Harry died. Even though the entire theatre was laughing at Tobey Maguire's scrunched-up crybaby face.) It's so very sweet of them. I know I'm going to absolutely love my new family.
It's happening this Friday. I really hope I'm in Dundee by then. Like, seriously. Every time I check the application status of the visa, I get a little pang of sadness when I see it still isn't through.
If I haven't gotten it by tomorrow, I'll have to find the number for the residences and explain why I haven't collected the keys yet, and when I probably will. I hope they accept that I don't know. And then explain to the flatmates that I may not be there in time for the party. Which would be AWFUL, seeing as they've gone to all the trouble.
*Sigh* Anyway. I'm going to sleep. Maybe things will look better in the morning.
Ja.
This girl I've met via facebook that's on the architecture course, Emily, added me to a group dedicated to the first year architects. I had a look at some of the discussions - they're already talking about presentations! As in, they've done them. And lord, I have monster stage fright. I've been onstage before - school plays, master of ceremonies for a couple of occasions, and so on. My knees literally shake; I always make sure to wear a dress or skirt of something, to cover it up. Looking at my face, I'm told, you can't tell I'm about to pass out. But I really am.
As it goes on, and I know that the audience is not about to burst out laughing (unless I've just thrown in a joke or something), it gets better. The knees don't, but the suffocated feeling in my chest does alleviate a little. I suppose as I do more presentations in class, I'll get over it. And I'll be friends with them, so I guess it won't be as daunting as a stage audience. But still.
The point is I have to catch up, and do presentations on the caught up work. And I don't have any casual skirts. I've only ever worn formal dresses to the times I needed to be MC, or my school uniform (long skirt on the days of speeches and presentations and such). HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO HIDE MY KNEES?
Right, first thing in the morning, I'm going out and buying skirts. Whatever. I can do this.
Emily has been great. She's offered to help me catch up once I get there, which is a huge load off. Teachers are good, but I've always found studying with classmates much more effective. I'm not sure if this is a universal thing or just me, but there you go. I studied for my A-Levels by forcing my brother study in my room at the same time - he'd quiz me when I asked, which was actually a massive help for physics. He has a knack for asking questions that miraculously appear on the paper. And saying the answers out loud to him helped make it stick.
On a different note, I really, truly cannot wait to meet my new flatmates. They've done just the sweetest thing. I received an invite on fb to an event, so I checked it out. Guess what it's called?
"Party for Shimali."
Since I missed out on freshers', they've decided to throw a little thing in my honour, and I am completely, utterly touched. Tears of joy, I swear to God, were there. (Side note: I'm an annoyingly emotional person. I cried, full on sobs, for Spiderman 3, when [SPOILER ALERT] Harry died. Even though the entire theatre was laughing at Tobey Maguire's scrunched-up crybaby face.) It's so very sweet of them. I know I'm going to absolutely love my new family.
It's happening this Friday. I really hope I'm in Dundee by then. Like, seriously. Every time I check the application status of the visa, I get a little pang of sadness when I see it still isn't through.
If I haven't gotten it by tomorrow, I'll have to find the number for the residences and explain why I haven't collected the keys yet, and when I probably will. I hope they accept that I don't know. And then explain to the flatmates that I may not be there in time for the party. Which would be AWFUL, seeing as they've gone to all the trouble.
*Sigh* Anyway. I'm going to sleep. Maybe things will look better in the morning.
Ja.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Still Not Quite There
Argh, this is just plain frustrating.
I was supposed to leave for Dundee yesterday. The original plan was the 20th of this month, but things got done earlier than we'd planned. We'd talked to the people at the UK Border Agency, and they'd agreed to send my visa to me in two days, so we planned to leave Friday, which was the 16th.
But no. No visa.
So I'm still stuck here.
One good thing is that I get to see a couple of people I'd thought I wouldn't be able to. I'm meeting them for lunch later.
But that's about the only upside.
Believing that I was leaving Friday, I'd packed everything and was ready to leave, see? So now, I have very little clothes lying about, and I can't be bothered opening up the suitcase and pulling out everything that I spent hours packing. I keep throwing everything in the wash and hoping to find some hidden miracle in my closet, but I have the feeling that it won't work out that way.
And I'm so excited for uni, late though I am. New friends, new city, new life. I love it here too, but you know, it's university! The time of our lives! Although I'm late. Argh, I can't get that little fact out of my head.
Damn it.
I bought most of my textbooks the other day. Just the one missing, now. I figured I'd try and get some reading done, so hopefully I won't be that behind everyone else. The books look a bit daunting, but I'll do it. I know that they said it would be easy to catch up and all, but still. Might as well give myself an advantage.
Oh, off topic, I watched Coach Carter yesterday! I hadn't watched it before, even though most of my family's given it glowing reviews. I thought, from the name, that it was a guy movie about baseball or something. But I did watch it yesterday, and it's awesome! Totally not just a guy movie. And it's basketball, not baseball. Which is kind of a relief, because I don't understand how baseball works. I think it's like rounders, but I'm not sure. In this household, it's just cricket and football. And I only ever watch the world cups of either, because that's the only thing interesting enough for me to watch.
Speaking of which, I hope it won't be too late to sign up for any of the sports clubs once I get there. I really wanted to join Archery, and maybe Skiing and Snowboarding? Because archery is just plain cool, and I've never skied or snowboarded, and I want to learn. But I'll wait until I get my schedule before I go around joining anything. I heard that the freshman year is supposed to be super hectic, right after transitioning from high school.
And, well, I'd better get ready for that lunch now.
Ja.
Friday, September 9, 2011
A Short Excerpt From The Lives Of A Dysfunctional Family
The fact that I can't get a hold of my UK visa is annoying. Irritating. Just a plain bummer.
Dealing with the University, though, has been super helpful. I informed them that I'd need to matriculate late and all, and they've replied reassuring me that everything will be okay. I even just got a call from the people wanting to know when I'd be collecting my keys.
Two days ago, I sent an e-mail saying that I would be late to the architecture course to someone I assume will be one of my professors, Cameron Wilson. The thing is, I've only ever known Cameron Diaz. So I addressed the e-mail as, "Dear Ms. Wilson".
The reply, although very nice and all, was signed exactly like this:
Kind Regards
(Mr.) Cameron Wilson.
Oh lord, the shame.
If brown people could blush, I'd be beet red. I shrieked when I saw it. My God. I don't know how I'm going to face this professor when I see him. It probably won't be as bad as I'm imagining, but still. My parents burst out into peals of laughter when I hung my head and related the story to them, informing me that I'm an idiot for not realizing that Cameron is generally a guy's name.
In other news, Aehshaan was in my room just now, talking about something or the other (I wasn't paying attention). Suddenly, he falls silent and kind of cocks his head in the direction of the door. His eyes narrowed, and he hissed, all cool like, "The dog's gone for my burger."
And he was out of there like a shot.
Really, between my e-mails and the relationship between my dog and brother, it's a miracle our family functions normally in public.
Ja.
Dealing with the University, though, has been super helpful. I informed them that I'd need to matriculate late and all, and they've replied reassuring me that everything will be okay. I even just got a call from the people wanting to know when I'd be collecting my keys.
Two days ago, I sent an e-mail saying that I would be late to the architecture course to someone I assume will be one of my professors, Cameron Wilson. The thing is, I've only ever known Cameron Diaz. So I addressed the e-mail as, "Dear Ms. Wilson".
The reply, although very nice and all, was signed exactly like this:
Kind Regards
(Mr.) Cameron Wilson.
Oh lord, the shame.
If brown people could blush, I'd be beet red. I shrieked when I saw it. My God. I don't know how I'm going to face this professor when I see him. It probably won't be as bad as I'm imagining, but still. My parents burst out into peals of laughter when I hung my head and related the story to them, informing me that I'm an idiot for not realizing that Cameron is generally a guy's name.
In other news, Aehshaan was in my room just now, talking about something or the other (I wasn't paying attention). Suddenly, he falls silent and kind of cocks his head in the direction of the door. His eyes narrowed, and he hissed, all cool like, "The dog's gone for my burger."
And he was out of there like a shot.
Really, between my e-mails and the relationship between my dog and brother, it's a miracle our family functions normally in public.
Ja.
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