not my favourite day.
so i have more or less wasted the whole of today. but it feels necessary to get this off my chest before attempting to do any half hearted studying. i suppose there's something to learn from every fall, something to reflect upon from every 'gek' moment. it's useless attempting to swim in this bitterness, grappling with a perverse sense of anger that my finger could point at no one else.
it's quite a simple matter actually. application for US student visa, for i'm heading to harvard for summer school this year. perhaps due to complacence, or sheer stinginess, i was under the impression that i have paid for this thing known as SEVIS fee ($200), when in fact i have only paid for the US embassy visa appointment fee ($130). (when this whole endeavour costs me around $10000, i really shouldn't be so calculative with peripheral amounts involved in administration. i'll come back to this point later about my somewhat unhealthy outlook on money). that was MISTAKE NUMBER 1, a big one that thwarted my whole application today. incomplete information, one of the pet peeves of visa processing, also one of my most menacing enemies (looking back when i applied for the UK student visa in 2008, a similar event occurred whereby i underestimated the necessity of certain information - ridiculously trivial in my eyes, sent in my application - only to have it rejected.) MISTAKE NUMBER 2 was less profound, but equally unforgiving. I failed to produce the official confirmation of my visa application appointment at the door, again, being misled by the idiotic confidence that another similar printout was sufficient. to remedy this, i was sent to this dodgy pharmacy (in cahoots with the US embassy) where i was charged £4 for printing 2 sheets. i was thoroughly shocked when the man behind the counter, suppressing a snigger, casually announced the price to an unprepared me digging into my wallet, ready to produce something like a 20p coin. so i steadied myself at this outrageous news, and reminded myself (a piece of parents' wisdom) that when you truly need something, something's gotta give - don't hesitate, don't slap yourself, not yet. i paid, and ran back to the embassy, gripping the £4 papers, surprisingly not bothered to shield them from the drizzle.
i then proceeded to the security checkpoint, an elaborate and threatening network manned by very unfriendly-looking bull-dog sized men. in an almost unbelievable procedure that followed during which my bag was passed through the scanner a total of 7 times, i was told to surrender my phone, ipod, watch, stapler, file (with metal binders aka lethal weapon!!!) and waterbottle (must have taste from it!!! not WWMD hmm). Thoroughly shaken and almost losing my composure, i asked politely if i could deposit my items at the security while i go in for the visa appointment.
"No." he shook his head. "Go out and ask the man under the umbrella. He'll tell you what to do."
ok. i took a deep breath. so they're into this roundabout game here, impressive. indignantly i made my way to the man under the umbrella, explained my situation, only to be directed to the blessed pharmacy AGAIN. talk about explosive profits. since when does a pharmacy take care of printing, and deposition of personal items? strategic partnership indeed. barnacle and pirate ship maybe? after briefly contemplating hiding my items behind a BUSH, i regained rationality and surrendered another £3 at the pharmacy. while i paid i stared at the boxes of paracetamol on the shelves so hard that i could break the tablets into halves.
wow this recount is getting long. anyhow, i went through into the visa application hall, a rather massive arena filled with people having american (bubble) dreams. i looked around bitterly, and hoped that they had gone through as much trauma before making it to this 'sanctuary'. i hobbled over to a seat. 30 more numbers to my turn. well, i'm no newcomer when it comes to the art of waiting. furthermore, i had dutifully prepared my endocrine notes to accompany me through an expectedly long afternoon.
2 hour elapse.
"now serving number 522 at counter 20!" i jolted out of my seat, thinking that all this frustration will come to an end with the submission of my passport and having it back 5 working days later, blissfully stamped with the student visa which i would proudly flash at logan international airport. FAT HOPE. at the interview officer's counter, i was asked a few cursory questions regarding my purpose of visit, before being told that i could not submit my application today due to incomplete information. i have not paid for the SEVIS fee, which is a distinct sum of money from the appointment fee. oh my sweets. i was offered ONE OPTION (just wondering, wouldn't the word option by definition come in PLURAL? or are we dealing with a sort of pretension of freedom to choose game here?): to pay, get my receipt, and call a courier to collect my documents from my house of residence (how kind!!! £25 please) to the embassy, and deliver it back to me once the processing is complete (an augmented period of 15-20 working days instead of the original 5).
awesome. so there, my theatrical anecdote of the day. i'm home now, reading through the documents carefully. on one of my £4 papers, i found this paragraph that stated the prohibition of items such as hp and ipod in the embassy - i was warned, but i didn't (or didn't have the chance to) heed the warning. fair enough, for i was more or less ready to accept that all my misfortunes today are single-handedly orchestrated by myself. my sheer folly and negligence!!! and the issue about money. i suppose the main victim in this case apart from time (intangible) is money (tangible, too often the wretched source of discontent). having parents who have never heard of the term 'allowance' is an ambivalent situation for me. i know that they've worked extremely hard to be in the position they are in now, and to be able to sustain my outrageous FMS. yet they always urge me to spend to treat myself well, to buy things that i want. however with this apparent freedom grew my intrinsic frugality, which is actually, not that odd. i'm the kind of person who would work harder if someone tells me to slack, eat less if someone tells me to eat more. strange, polarised, but true. so to cut the long story short i was very unhappy with the way money flew out of my window today, as a result of my mismanagement. i know that that shouldn't be the crux of this lesson, it's merely a byproduct. i should be concentrating on prevention of similar occurrences in the future, not to wallow over that £7, or that £25 which i'm about to spend, ridiculous amounts or not. yes. i must learn from this. i suppose i will. before i do, i'm not ready to plunge into the complexities of society or chase after my dreams, because it's not all that rosy.
it's quite a simple matter actually. application for US student visa, for i'm heading to harvard for summer school this year. perhaps due to complacence, or sheer stinginess, i was under the impression that i have paid for this thing known as SEVIS fee ($200), when in fact i have only paid for the US embassy visa appointment fee ($130). (when this whole endeavour costs me around $10000, i really shouldn't be so calculative with peripheral amounts involved in administration. i'll come back to this point later about my somewhat unhealthy outlook on money). that was MISTAKE NUMBER 1, a big one that thwarted my whole application today. incomplete information, one of the pet peeves of visa processing, also one of my most menacing enemies (looking back when i applied for the UK student visa in 2008, a similar event occurred whereby i underestimated the necessity of certain information - ridiculously trivial in my eyes, sent in my application - only to have it rejected.) MISTAKE NUMBER 2 was less profound, but equally unforgiving. I failed to produce the official confirmation of my visa application appointment at the door, again, being misled by the idiotic confidence that another similar printout was sufficient. to remedy this, i was sent to this dodgy pharmacy (in cahoots with the US embassy) where i was charged £4 for printing 2 sheets. i was thoroughly shocked when the man behind the counter, suppressing a snigger, casually announced the price to an unprepared me digging into my wallet, ready to produce something like a 20p coin. so i steadied myself at this outrageous news, and reminded myself (a piece of parents' wisdom) that when you truly need something, something's gotta give - don't hesitate, don't slap yourself, not yet. i paid, and ran back to the embassy, gripping the £4 papers, surprisingly not bothered to shield them from the drizzle.
i then proceeded to the security checkpoint, an elaborate and threatening network manned by very unfriendly-looking bull-dog sized men. in an almost unbelievable procedure that followed during which my bag was passed through the scanner a total of 7 times, i was told to surrender my phone, ipod, watch, stapler, file (with metal binders aka lethal weapon!!!) and waterbottle (must have taste from it!!! not WWMD hmm). Thoroughly shaken and almost losing my composure, i asked politely if i could deposit my items at the security while i go in for the visa appointment.
"No." he shook his head. "Go out and ask the man under the umbrella. He'll tell you what to do."
ok. i took a deep breath. so they're into this roundabout game here, impressive. indignantly i made my way to the man under the umbrella, explained my situation, only to be directed to the blessed pharmacy AGAIN. talk about explosive profits. since when does a pharmacy take care of printing, and deposition of personal items? strategic partnership indeed. barnacle and pirate ship maybe? after briefly contemplating hiding my items behind a BUSH, i regained rationality and surrendered another £3 at the pharmacy. while i paid i stared at the boxes of paracetamol on the shelves so hard that i could break the tablets into halves.
wow this recount is getting long. anyhow, i went through into the visa application hall, a rather massive arena filled with people having american (bubble) dreams. i looked around bitterly, and hoped that they had gone through as much trauma before making it to this 'sanctuary'. i hobbled over to a seat. 30 more numbers to my turn. well, i'm no newcomer when it comes to the art of waiting. furthermore, i had dutifully prepared my endocrine notes to accompany me through an expectedly long afternoon.
2 hour elapse.
"now serving number 522 at counter 20!" i jolted out of my seat, thinking that all this frustration will come to an end with the submission of my passport and having it back 5 working days later, blissfully stamped with the student visa which i would proudly flash at logan international airport. FAT HOPE. at the interview officer's counter, i was asked a few cursory questions regarding my purpose of visit, before being told that i could not submit my application today due to incomplete information. i have not paid for the SEVIS fee, which is a distinct sum of money from the appointment fee. oh my sweets. i was offered ONE OPTION (just wondering, wouldn't the word option by definition come in PLURAL? or are we dealing with a sort of pretension of freedom to choose game here?): to pay, get my receipt, and call a courier to collect my documents from my house of residence (how kind!!! £25 please) to the embassy, and deliver it back to me once the processing is complete (an augmented period of 15-20 working days instead of the original 5).
awesome. so there, my theatrical anecdote of the day. i'm home now, reading through the documents carefully. on one of my £4 papers, i found this paragraph that stated the prohibition of items such as hp and ipod in the embassy - i was warned, but i didn't (or didn't have the chance to) heed the warning. fair enough, for i was more or less ready to accept that all my misfortunes today are single-handedly orchestrated by myself. my sheer folly and negligence!!! and the issue about money. i suppose the main victim in this case apart from time (intangible) is money (tangible, too often the wretched source of discontent). having parents who have never heard of the term 'allowance' is an ambivalent situation for me. i know that they've worked extremely hard to be in the position they are in now, and to be able to sustain my outrageous FMS. yet they always urge me to spend to treat myself well, to buy things that i want. however with this apparent freedom grew my intrinsic frugality, which is actually, not that odd. i'm the kind of person who would work harder if someone tells me to slack, eat less if someone tells me to eat more. strange, polarised, but true. so to cut the long story short i was very unhappy with the way money flew out of my window today, as a result of my mismanagement. i know that that shouldn't be the crux of this lesson, it's merely a byproduct. i should be concentrating on prevention of similar occurrences in the future, not to wallow over that £7, or that £25 which i'm about to spend, ridiculous amounts or not. yes. i must learn from this. i suppose i will. before i do, i'm not ready to plunge into the complexities of society or chase after my dreams, because it's not all that rosy.