Trees Full of Starlight

Out of the four days of class I have each week, only Tuesday ends before 6:15 in the evening -- I have a late tute on Mondays and rehearsal on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Nevertheless, today, rather than heading home at 3:15 after my Medieval & Early Modern Music lecture, I popped over to the computing centre to print out some (okay, more like 80) photos to put up around my bedroom.

Grateful that I'd dodged (most of) the rain, which so often comes and goes in Melbourne, I headed out of Union House to head home just before 5:30. Dusk had settled quickly over the city and brought with it a brisk chill. This morning it had felt more like autumn than winter; as I crossed Royal Parade 9 hours later, it was definitely a winter evening. It was just cold enough that I wondered if I could see my breath -- a bit of a novelty for me, since it is August and traditionally very hot. I let out a long exhale to see if I could spot any wisps of breath, but alas. Not quite that cold (yet). The streetlights, the headlights of passing cars, even the lights from the trams were dancing over the still-wet pavement, glinting here and there in shades of peach and champagne.

I've never lived in an actual city. Bridgewater is technically a township, and it's mainly highways anyway, so I would never even think of walking anywhere except maybe down the street to a friend's house or maybe across 202 for a popular event at either North Branch or Duke Island Park. Granville is even smaller -- it's actually a village. I can walk anywhere I need, which is really only up and down Broadway to the CVS or maybe, if I'm feeling adventurous, down to the IGA for some groceries.

Sure, I go to New York City often when I'm home, and generally go to Columbus a few times a semester, so I know my way around a city. I know how to hail a cab, how to use the subway. I know how to get to Central Park, or Times Square, which way is uptown and which way is downtown. But actually living in a city presents a curious dichotomy between being surrounded by people all the time, yet being very, very alone.

It's always an interesting experiment to smile at or say hello to someone you don't know, have never seen before in your life, and will never see again. In New York, if you get a reaction at all, it will be an odd look and then they'll be gone forever -- a brief moment of interaction between two human beings, and yet not really any interaction at all. I haven't tried it yet in Melbourne, but something hopeful inside me says that maybe I'll get a few smiles back. Certainly they're far more open and willing to approach or even help out strangers; the other day a man on a bicycle asked me if I knew where Grattan Street was and how to get there (always a nice ego boost, since Grattan is one of the few streets I do know!). When I first arrived in Melbourne, my friends and I occasionally stopped people on the street to ask directions and they were always very friendly.

At any rate, I haven't had to ask directions in a while -- my daily commute to and from uni wasn't difficult to begin with, and has become even easier in the last week and a half or so. I always pass by a few hospitals on Royal Parade (or perhaps just many buildings of one hospital) between RMIT Village and UM, and they're always busy, regardless of what time it is. First thing in the morning, heading to classes, in the middle of the day, popping back to the apartment for lunch, walking home from class or rehearsal in the evenings, and even late at night on a run to the bottle shop across from Trinity College. There are always people coming in and out -- visitors, paramedics, all sorts of people.

But there's one woman that I see constantly -- nearly every time I walk by, as a matter of fact. She's outside the Royal Melbourne Hospital in a garishly pink robe and fuzzy slippers clearly not meant to be worn outside a building. She's older, probably in her 50s or early 60s, with hair that's dyed a burgundy red and roots that need to be retouched. All of this aside, perhaps what is most obvious is that she is always alone, smoking a cigarette, and never smiling. In fact, it's not even that she looks particularly unpleasant; just on the older side and a bit eccentric, and she strikes me as being very resigned to her fate, whatever it is.

I wonder about her. What's her story, where is her family? In the short week and a half I've been here, she's become a fixture on my daily walks. Is she, likewise, a fixture at the hospital? Or will I stop seeing her in a week or two? Why is she always alone, and why is she at the hospital to begin with? How many times does she come outside to smoke each day? I see her so often on some days that I wonder if she's gone in at all, or if she's just been sitting out there, smoking one cigarette after another, all day long.

Tonight she was sitting alone on the bench again, puffing away at her ever-present cigarette, a look of intense concentration on her face as she took slow drags, examining her pink robe in the rapidly dimming light. I'd known she was there before I could be sure it was her -- the smell of cigarette smoke seemed to carry better in the cold air. She was even more alone than usual. Normally there are other people milling about the bench where she sits, but tonight it had gotten dark very quickly, and combined with the rain it seemed like a good guess that most of them were inside. It was cold; I'd misjudged the weather myself, finding myself wearing only a (fairly warm, but not warm enough) rugby shirt and jeans. These last few days I'd been dressing warmly only to find out as soon as I stepped outside that I didn't need a jacket or even really a jumper; though the camisole inside was too thin for me to be able to take off the jumper, a t-shirt would have sufficed. Today I'd grossly miscalculated; I was underdressed in anticipation of it being warmer than I expected, when in fact it turned out to be just as cold as I thought it might be, and then some.

I wanted to stop and say something, to ask her name. She looked cold. Her robe definitely didn't seem thick enough for her to be out in the cold drizzly evening.

But she sat there, resolutely puffing away, picking at her robe, and I walked on, surrounded by people and yet feeling very alone, on this cold Melbourne evening.

Ordinary People

Last night, at some point whilst I scrubbed at the stove range with steel wool and Lysol wipes, it fully sank in that I live here. Here, at 5-17 Flemington Road, North Melbourne, Victoria, Australia. Here, in Australia. In Melbourne.

I go to class, I buy groceries, I make dinner every night. I have friends over, and I clean and live my life in my little apartment surrounded by a culture I don't fully understand yet and many, many thousands of people that I do not know.

It occurred to me, as I idly watched the Ashes (for the uninformed, the Ashes are a huuuge cricket tournament between England and Australia. Huge deal around here) and chatted with friends from home, that this is not just some glorified vacation. I had hoped that this weekend would be a little more exciting than it turned out to be; I happen to be of the opinion that the first weekend of term will either be a lot of fun or completely boring, with no middle ground. Certainly I've noticed that most people take one of two stances: (1) "Crap, classes have started and now I need to be a serious student!" or (2) "Fuckk, you mean I actually have to do work? Let's get drunk to commiserate."

We all know which one I wanted to do. After all, I am in Australia, and we are legal to drink here, and, whilst I do honestly enjoy my classes, I'd rather go out with my friends (even if we don't necessarily drink or get drunk) and have a good weekend than sit around at my desk mucking through hundreds of pages of reading.

But it struck me just now as I stood under the water for my four-minute shower that this is my life. Yeah, I should live it up, but I'm here for another four months. There will be plenty of opportunities for having fun.

And all in all, this weekend wasn't so bad. I have no Friday lectures or tutes, so I de facto have a three-day weekend every week. Jarrod came over Thursday night to watch True Beauty (and by watch, I mean mock), eat pizza, and do tequila shots out of plastic shotglasses lined with fruit roll-ups, and the next morning we lazed around the apartment, eating pancakes and muffins and generally wasting time. Hey, not the most productive of days, but a good time with good company nonetheless. After he left, I made dinner for myself and watched the Ashes and caught up with some friends back home. Saturday was similarly spent sleeping in (and I do mean really sleeping in -- like 2pm sleeping in), watching movies, chatting online, and eating leftovers. I cleaned the kitchen for a while; it's probably cleaner now than it has been in a few terms. Then I reorganised my half of the pantry and made a shopping list of things I need to go get. I even managed to get some writing done. This morning, a bunch of the Arcadians came over for a potluck brunch and we had a great time sitting around chatting in my kitchen. It's not the most exciting life, but it's by no means a bad one, either.

Not to mention I've got four more months of this life. Not every weekend can be the all-out, get drunk, go dancing sort of crazy fun. Lazy weekends are fun too. Studying abroad is meant to give you all sorts of learning experiences aside from just purely academic ones. You learn to adapt to a new culture, a new lifestyle.

I've been so concerned with having a good time that I missed the part where I'm doing something that's really, truly amazing -- I'm making a life for myself in a place that, a year ago, I'd only really dreamed about going. I'm living fully on my own, meeting amazing people, and getting to know an amazing city and country.

It's been a great weekend. =)

"No Worries"

One of the best things about Australia is what I've taken to calling the Aussie state of mind. You know the one I'm talking about, where they call everyone "mate" and instead of saying "you're welcome," they say "no worries." Combined with the accent, listening to conversations down here is just so relaxing.

See, I like schedules. I like to know where I'm going, when I'm going, with whom I'm going, how I'm getting there, what I'll be doing once I get there, and when I'll be leaving. In the States, things are hectic like that. I could have my day planned down to the minute because if I wasn't at this class or that club, I had to go to this rehearsal or that meeting, or maybe even both at once.

But part of this whole experience is the beauty of a new start. I'm not in any clubs (yet), I have friends that I like to go out with, but not every night, and I'm basically free to be as social or antisocial as I like. I have a social life, but it's not quite as jam-packed as it was last semester, or even during the summer when I worked all day, every day, and then went out for a late coffee with friends before rinsing and repeating.

We don't make plans here. A "plan" here is a text from Mara saying "hey, we're making dinner, want to come over?" or a Tuesday afternoon e-mail from Mitch wondering if anyone wants to go see The Hangover in four hours. I mean, I occasionally did spontaneous things whilst I was at Denison, but here I would say that roughly 80% of social activities are arranged less than 12 hours in advance, and more or less on a whim. And when things go wrong, as they sometimes do, no-one freaks out. For instance, when a large contingent of us headed down to Melbourne Central, on Tuesday evening and discovered that not only were tickets $18, not $10, but that the movie was sold out and it was the last showing of the evening, we just sat down on an s-shaped bench and chatted. For an hour and a half. Then we strolled back to RMIT Village, stopping for popcorn along the way, and hung out talking in the courtyard for another half an hour or so.

It's a nice change of pace, most certainly. I feel as though firstly, the movie thing would never have happened in the States with my friends there; we would have checked the movie, and possibly pre-ordered tickets, and if it had still happened, we certainly wouldn't have found a bench and sat down to chat for an hour and a half before leisurely strolling home.

But I do like to stay occupied at least part of the time. So on Wednesday I auditioned for the University of Melbourne Early Voices Ensemble. They're putting on Dido and Aeneas this semester, and since they've offered me (and I've accepted) a spot in their Alto section, presumably this means that I will be in an opera this semester. Furthermore, I auditioned for the Vocal Ensemble on Thursday, and they've tentatively offered me a spot (the director apparently isn't sure my voice will blend well with the rest of the ensemble), so hopefully that will go forward as well.

It turns out I won't be able to take voice lessons through the University (not enough room in my course load), so I do have to look for a voice teacher now, as well as a job. But my cold is more or less gone, the homesickness has begun to abate, and I feel like I'm finally settling into this city and this new lifestyle.

So all I'll say is no worries -- I have faith that everything will work itself out.

"Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore."

Now that I'm fully moved into my apartment and no longer living out of a suitcase, I am a bit more comfortable in this city where the overwhelming feeling of not belonging overtakes me many hours of the day. I'm certainly not alone in this feeling; hundreds, if not thousands, of international students overtake this city and my new university each semester hoping to find adventure, unique experiences, and friends that might last them a lifetime.

I sort of resisted it at first, but I'll admit it: I'm homesick. I still love this city, and everyone is fabulous and my new friends are great, but it's little things, like not having my mug to drink my tea with. And the fact that I can't get any of my favourite cereals, and having to sleep in this small bed with unfamiliar bed linens and unfamiliar pillows and a giant stuffed wombat. (Okay, so the wombat part is cool, because I love my stuffed wombat, but other than that.) And needing an adapter in order to use any of my electronics from home is just annoying. Despite the exchange rate, some stuff is disgustingly expensive -- vitamins, for instance. And alcohol (which is fine, I guess. Hopefully it will curb my spending on booze, haha). The list goes on. There are some fantastic things about Australia, but I have a cold and an audition tomorrow and at this point I wouldn't mind going home so much. (Well, that's a lie. I might be a little unhappy once I realised I'd made a terrible choice.)

It's not that I'm really that unhappy here; far from it -- simply that some of the little things are starting to get to me. I really am having the time of my life meeting new people and discovering this different culture, and every time I see the University of Melbourne crest emblazoned on a building, I'm just awestruck by the fact that four years after I first decided I wanted to come here, I'm finally here. Although I wouldn't give up my time at Denison for anything, I can say with certainty that, had I enrolled at the University of Melbourne when I graduated in 2007, I would not have regretted that decision.

It's simply that though I feel as though I will eventually be able to call this city home, it's not home yet.

I know I've been a bit remiss in updating, but these last few weeks have been extremely hectic. (In fact, for a while I was more stressed than I had been since I got here due to some scheduling issues. They ended up being resolved fairly easily after several rounds of e-mail tag with Yadi Collins, the registrar at Denison.)

But here's a quick rundown:

The Arcadia group arrived, exhausted and jet-lagged, in the Brisbane airport around 6am on a Saturday morning. We sent most of our baggage to a storage unit and boarded a bus for Caloundra, a small, lovely beach town on the Sunshine Coast. Everything was strange at first. Gas was called petrol, and natural gas was called gas. Ketchup is tomato sauce here, and tomato sauce (the sort that you put on pasta) is called tomato paste. Not to mention that we were driving on the "wrong" side of the road and every time the driver turned, we felt like we might crash into another car if it happened to be driving on the "right" side of the road. And I'm sure you can imagine how frightening it was every time one of us glanced out a window and saw the passenger seat of a car empty, since the driver's seat is on the right here, as opposed to the left.

At any rate, we arrived in Caloundra without incident, and the last thing we wanted to do was get orientated. Really what most of us wanted to do was crawl into a bed and sleep. Alas, no such luck. Three days of morning-till-night orientation followed, with a jam-packed schedule to keep us all awake so we could try and defeat the jet lag. We tried vegemite, learned Australian slang, learned to play cricket and footy, and visited Steve Irwin's Zoo to pet koalas, feed kangaroos, and see first-hand all of the unique animals that live in Australia.

Although it's winter here, Caloundra (which is on the Sunshine Coast) is farther north and thus closer to the equator. It was warm enough to go for a dip in the ocean (although not at sunrise. I did it and it is not advisable, no matter how amusing it was at the time -- whatever, it was my second poor life choice of many down here in Oz) and I wore tank tops and shorts through the few days we stayed in Caloundra. The hotel where Arcadia put us up was lovely; we were in apartment-style rooms, and ours even had a balcony. Mine overlooked the beach, and every morning when I woke up I could hear the waves crashing on the shore.

On Tuesday 14, we got up and boarded the bus back to the Brisbane airport, where we left Lyndon and Cam, our orientation leaders, to fly on to Melbourne. We arrived in Melbourne that afternoon, and after a brief mishap trying to find the man who was meant to pick us up (he wasn't there, and when we finally found him, he was not carrying the "green ToGoTo sign" that we'd been told he'd be carrying. As for us, a large group of lost American uni students couldn't have been that hard to spot, and we sort of assume he was a bit late), we were off to the University of Melbourne for -- you guessed it -- another orientation, this time "Melbourne Welcome," run by UM students to help us learn our way around the city.

We "Arcadians" (as we've named ourselves, despite the fact that none of us actually attend Arcadia University) were split up, some, myself included, headed for Trinity College and some for Janet Clarke. We went to dinner and then more or less headed back to our rooms to take advantage of free internet (finally) and a bed. There was a toga party that evening; I was just too tired to go, but many of us did head over.

The following morning, a good number of us slept in. It was nice not to have to get up at 7am for breakfast (I don't even need to get up at 7am for uni!), and later that morning, a bunch of us headed over to Lygon Street to do some shopping and check out mobile phone plans. We ate packed lunches sitting on benches by the sports oval at the uni, and then Becky, Sophie, and Jordan headed back out to do some shopping.

Instead of heading back out, I met up with Jarrod (happy now?! You got a blog mention) that afternoon to go see HP6. The film was pretty decent (by which I mean I'm more or less glad I paid to see it in theatres, but it wasn't good enough that I would pay to see it a second time), but finally meeting him was definitely the highlight of the day -- that, or buying Tim Tams at Woolworth's. (Kidding! We have to try and keep the size of your ego in check, though. =P)

We caught the tram down to Melbourne Central, which is more or less a huge mall not terribly far from my apartment, but a bit farther from Trinity College, since Trinity's a bit farther north than RMIT Village. It was my first time on a tram, which is more or less an above-ground subway system; the Melbourne tram system is fairly extensive, and the trams have dedicated lanes on the road. This means two things: first, that crossing the street (and the "Roundabout of Death," as we've nicknamed the roundabout outside RMIT Village) is way more dangerous. Secondly, trams run more or less on schedule, even during rush hour or in traffic jams, since cars generally don't drive on them. Emergency vehicles are apparently allowed to drive on the tram lane, though, so it's actually quite useful.

After the movie, Jarrod and I walked back to Trinity together and talked for a while before he headed home for the evening and I got ready for the Laneway bar tour.

The Laneway bars are an interesting bunch of bars well-hidden in the CBD (I think that stands for Central Business District? Not sure though -- it's essentially the city centre). Most of them are hidden in back alleys, and they have a cosy, unique atmosphere. Drinks are expensive here in Oz, but since I'm a girl (and an "any alcohol is good alcohol" kind of girl, at that) it's less of a problem. ;-) The first bar, Sister Bella, we visited was in a random back alley, around some dumpsters, and up a flight of stairs. Section 8 was the second bar, located in an old car park, with lots of couches and heat lamps to make you feel like you're inside although you're not really. Manchuria, the third bar, was a bit more like a bar/lounge, with Asian-inspired decor and cushy (but very classy!) furniture. Finally, we hit Escobar to end the evening and give their business a bit of a boost (it was a Wednesday evening, after all). I was more or less very drunk by the end of the night, so I ducked outside and chatted with the bouncers (haha, I know, I'm so classy) until a few girls decided to leave and I left with them.

I finally got a phone on Thursday (well, just a SIM card, since my phone works here); again, I skipped all of the daytime activities...as nice as it was of Arcadia to sign us up for Melbourne Welcome, I was definitely all orientated out, and not in the mood to get up at 8am and run around the city all day on tours I didn't particularly want to do. Although I sort of did want to do the Thursday morning activities (a tour of the CBD, with a visit to the Eureka Skydeck and Federation Square), I slept in instead. That afternoon, I got my phone set up -- definitely a huge weight off my shoulders (I don't like to be disconnected, as many of you probably know).

Thursday evening was a formal dinner at Trinity, so we got to experience formal dinner as it occurs multiple times a week during term-time at almost all of the residential colleges. Traditionally, students and professors attending formal dinner wear academic gowns. Since we didn't have any, we just dressed nicely (business casual, more or less). They served a lovely dinner, complete with wine, in what some of us have taken to calling the "Hogwarts room." (It's true, the Trinity dining hall does look a bit like the Great Hall, complete with long tables and a head table where the professors sit.)

The next day, I got my 15 minutes of Aussie fame. Someone knocked on my door, probably around 9 or 10am, and asked if I would mind letting them use my door for shooting an episode of the Aussie TV series Rush, which is a police drama. They told me they were going to kick open my door (they close and lock automatically, so they put a wood block in to prop it open), but no-one mentioned the crossbow! So I'm sitting at my desk and this guy kicks open my door pointing a crossbow at me. Since he wasn't expecting anyone to be in the room, he was about as shocked as I was, haha. But one of the women working on the show (I can only assume she was an assistant producer or something), Pia, came in and sat with me and we had a lovely chat about St Kilda and vegemite.

Ten minutes and two or three takes later, I've become an extra! I and a few other extras (I think all of them were professionals, actually) got to run up and down the halls of Trinity screaming as we flee from the guys with crossbows. It was a lot of fun, and everyone was so nice. I didn't get to meet any of the stars of the show, but it was definitely an experience! Pia also invited me to eat lunch with them, so I got to meet the two guys with crossbows and the other extras over lunch. The episode airs in October, so we're definitely planning on having a viewing party. =)

With all the excitement of the morning overwith, Sophie and I (yes, Sophie and Sophia, I know) headed down to RMIT Village Old Melbourne, the apartment complex where we're going to spend the next five months or so. We checked ourselves in and began moving into our apartments. My roommate is a Swede who's going to RMIT this semester; her name is Lina (I still can't pronounce it, embarrassingly -- I'm sure you know how it's pronounced in English, but it's not pronounced the same way in Swedish!), and she's very nice and easygoing.

Then, that night, we attended the footy match between the Essendon Bombers and the Western Bulldogs at Etihad Stadium. Footy is a lot of fun to watch -- I definitely find it way more interesting than American football, and that particular match was quite good. (I'll be going to see Carlton v Geelong next Friday, and they're supposed to be quite good, so I'm pretty excited about that as well!) I might do a more detailed explanation of footy at some other time...too lazy now. =P

Finally, on Saturday morning we moved out of our temporary homes in Trinity and I got to fully unpack my suitcases at RMIT Village. My room is lovely, and a bit on the small side, but definitely functional. There's no oven, but there's a small stove range and a microwave and a fridge that's just big enough to fit Lina's and my food. (Did you know that the refrigerator was invented in Australia? Clearly, this is why there's such a high incidence of skin cancer -- no ozone layer. =P)

Mara had a bunch of us (RMITers and even those of us staying in residential colleges) over her room for pasta and drinks that night, and that turned into a fun evening of playing loud 90s music and Never Have I Ever. Jarrod joined us (yet another mention! What is the world coming to?) later, as did some random other people who randomly wandered into the party, and standing out on the balcony drinking and chatting with friends new and old was just so relaxing and nice. You can see how I'd forget that I actually have to go to class, haha.

Most of last week was more or less settling in and spending too much money trying to get the apartment set up and liveable, nothing exciting enough for a blog entry -- a few RMIT Village orientation parties and activities and a few UM administrative things, but mostly just settling in.

Classes began yesterday (two days ago? Well, it's almost 1am Wednesday morning, so take that as you like). So far they're fantastic; I love the UM campus, and the lecture/tutorial system is awesome because you don't really need to go to lecture (although I do plan on it anyway). They're large lectures -- all of my lectures are over 100 people, and some way more than that -- and most (if not all) of them are posted online instead. Really, it's your tutorial attendance that really counts.

This semester I'm taking four classes: Biomedical Ethics, Public Policy Making (Australian policy, not just general policy), Political Philosophy, and Medieval & Early Modern Music. It's a nice distribution; the former two are MW classes, with Monday tutes, and the latter two are TR classes, with Tuesday tutes. So really I could skive off my Wednesday and Thursday lectures and have a five-day weekend, since I already have Fridays off. I certainly don't plan on skipping all those lectures (what would I do with myself with all that spare time?! We all know I don't entertain myself that well, haha), but it's nice to know that I would be able to without being penalised, as opposed to only being able to miss a few classes at Denison before having my grade knocked down.

I'm also going to be auditioning for private voice lessons soon, and tomorrow (well, today) evening I'll be auditioning for the Early Voices Ensemble. I'm still sick, but I haven't spoken a word in hours (and we all know that's a lot for me) and I've been drinking hot tea like there's no tomorrow. So hopefully my voice and my cold will be better in the morning, particularly with a good warm-up.

At any rate, I'm going to wrap it up now -- I know no-one read this whole thing, but it's okay; my own fault for saving it all for one huuuge post, anyway. I will do my best to update more regularly, but my first priority right now is probably job hunting. Ah, me. No-one said that Australia was going to cost money.

Amazing Things That Have Happened Thus Far

Okay, so I've been in Australia for about five days now. Highlights thus far:

-- Feeding kangaroos at the Australian Zoo
-- Petting koalas (again at the Australian Zoo)
-- Seeing Bindi Irwin posters everywhere (at the Australian Zoo); actually, this was less a highlight and more a bit creepy, but slightly amusing nonetheless
-- Seeing wombats, which are my new favourite animal (again, of course, at the Zoo)
-- Signing up to go to the Great Barrier Reef for a week at the end of September
-- Being able to jump into the Pacific Ocean for a swim in the middle of winter
-- The Aussie TV show Rush filming outside of Trinity College (where I'm staying right now)
-- An awesome currency exchange rate =P

At any rate, I'm off to do fun and amazing things. More comprehensive update to come later.

[-1] 20: The Magic Number

One of the most common questions that people ask me when they find out I'm going to Australia is "how long is the flight?" To be honest, until about ten minutes ago, I didn't know. And upon further contemplation, I've come to the conclusion that I don't really care, nor do I think it's an important piece of information to have. Useful, perhaps, but not important.

With the time difference, I will depart Thursday evening (New York time, so Eastern Daylight Savings Time) and arrive Saturday morning (Brisbane/Melbourne time, which is Australian Eastern Standard Time). To me, the total duration of the actual flight matters less, for two main reasons:

1. I'm stuck on the plane for however long it is. It's not as if I can get a faster flight if I think the flight duration is too long, or a slower flight because I like sitting on planes so much. And since I'll most likely be sleeping for most of the flight (almost half, if not more -- I can sleep for a long time when there's no sunlight streaming through my window to wake me up!), it's not as if I'll be counting the hours/minutes, either.

2. If I know my departure time and arrival time, that's all that really matters. When I get on the plane I will set my watch to the local time in my destination, so theoretically at that point (if I cared) I could figure out how long I'd be on the plane, without having to worry about working in the time difference. Since I'll be arriving in Brisbane at 6am, I'll plan on going to sleep by, say, 9 or 10pm (Brisbane time) on the plane to help minimise the effects of jet lag. (Yes, a bit early, but I find it difficult to sleep through descent and landing, so I'd effectively be getting up at 5am.)

But for those who are interested to know, the total duration of my two flights (JFK to LAX and LAX to BNE) is approximately 20 hours, with a layover of about an hour at LAX. So my total travel time will be nearly a full 24 hours, especially if you count checking in and going through security at JFK, etc. However, I'll lose all of Friday the 10th (sorry to anyone whose birthday I'm going to miss =P) between travelling and the time difference. (On the upside, I'll get to live November 28th twice when I return!) So there's a bit of fun maths for you.

In other news, it's been a bit peculiar saying goodbye to people. It feels different than our usual goodbyes at the end of the summer -- perhaps because I'm going to miss half the time we would usually have to spend together. It feels more like saying goodbye between senior year of high school and freshman year of uni, which makes sense in a way. Still, I think it's sort of interesting how my being in Melbourne makes me feel like I'll be so very far away from my friends here -- which I will be, but it's not as if I can just pick up and visit them when I'm at uni in Ohio, either. The physical difference is greater, yes, but the mental/emotional difference seems like it should be the same. But these goodbyes seem so much more final, as if I'll never see my friends again, which is silly, because I know I'll come home to them when the semester is over.

I should add that I haven't begun packing yet. This is going to be a fun couple of days.

For anyone who's confused by the countdown in my subject lines, that's the countdown of full days between now and midnight on Thursday. Even though I leave Thursday evening, I'll have to check in by 5pm at latest, and braving traffic to get to JFK airport is not exactly a breeze, so Thursday will pretty much be all travelling.

[-4] Happy 4th!

I returned last night from Florida, which was a nice getaway before heading to Australia. Which, in and of itself, I suppose is more or less a getaway also. It occurs to me that it hasn't really struck me yet that I'll be taking classes and otherwise being scholarly once I'm there, and I suppose it won't until I (at least) have finalized my schedule. It's more or less been confirmed that I'll be taking Music History I and II concurrently this semester, but other than that, I'll supposedly be taking two Political Science courses that haven't yet been confirmed.

However, aside from that, the majority of the logistical issues have been straightened out. My visa came through with no problem, and I received the scholarship I applied for ($1,372, which is a somewhat random number -- but money is money). It's not that huge, but since my Denison scholarship doesn't go with me to Australia ($15,000/year), anything helps. It'll certainly at least help me cover groceries and such.

My housing has also been confirmed: I will be living for the semester in an apartment (presumably alone) at RMIT Village, which is a lovely apartment complex, complete with pool and workout facilities, not too far from the University. They're hosting an Orientation Week filled with events designed to help residents get to know each other, but I haven't decided yet if I want to participate. It costs $30AUD, which includes the cost of a t-shirt. It's not that $30AUD (approximately $24USD) is that much of an expense, I just don't know that I'm going to be interested in the activities they've planned. There's a "nightlife tour" which I assume will involve barhopping/clubs, which I genuinely am interested in, but the chances that the cost of drinks, etc is included in the Orientation fee are slim to none. There are also a few parties (including a theme party) that might be fun, but the movie night, the trivia night, and the sports day (no-one could ever claim that I was an athletic person) don't really interest me that much. I do want to get to know my fellow residents and make friends, but that week is probably going to be my main week for jobhunting, too. They also want the payment now, which is a little annoying because it's not like I can hop over there and hand them cash or swipe my credit card; I would have to send them credit card information via e-mail, and I'm not 100% positive I'm comfortable with that.

At any rate, here's what my schedule looks like so far for the next few weeks (all times local to where I am):

4/7 - 9/7: packing, work, etc
9/7: last day stateside; early dinner in the city; 19:10-22:10 flight JFK to LAX; 23:20 depart LAX for BNE
11/7: 06:10 arrive BNE
11/7 - 14/7: orientation in Caloundra
14/7: 11:55-14:20 flight BNE to MEL
14/7 - 18/7: Melbourne Welcome (University of Melbourne)
20/7 - 25/7: Orientation (RMIT Village)
27/7: first day of term (University of Melbourne)

So, the next few days will be extremely busy for sure, and then I'll be leaving! I'm extremely, extremely excited, but at the same time, I'm having that "I'm basically moving to another country for five months" freak-out right about now, and packing certainly doesn't help; anyone who knows me knows I'm a terrible overpacker. It's okay though, I will get everything condensed down to two suitcases in the end. I always do. And I'm determined to leave some space for the stuff I will inevitably accumulate in Australia, of course. (Whether or not this will actually happen is a different story entirely, but I'm hopeful.)

So. Hurray for amazing experiences that are about to begin -- and happy 4th to anyone in the US!