After mailing my visa application today, I returned home to find an email which linked to Temple University's online services. Ah, yes, I thought. I will use this to sign up for classes and check my financial aid status, and all the what-haves-you of student life.
Well, I will, after I get used to it's convoluted and ugly nature. All school websites I've been required to use over the years have varied from nominally ugly to ridiculously difficult; this one is low on the spectrum of offensiveness, but still looks like something straight out of geocities.
Yikes.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Sunday, April 25, 2010
at long last
I received the call from my Mom and Dad yesterday, which informed me that The Papers are on their way. For the past month, we have been waiting for banking information to arrive from Japan, and it finally disembarked the slow boat to California. With no further ado, I may officially submit my application for a Japanese visa.
Japanese banks are a thing which would send any red-blooded American screaming for the hills. Additionally, every fee and inconvenience an American bank levies upon its customers (which are ridiculous by all standards) pales in comparison to the rigamaroll and hoops which must be jumped through in the Land of the Rising Sun. However, despite their bizarre hours and bizarre-er fees (all ATM transactions garner a fee; weekend ATM usage costs more!), the quaintness and the respectful business style of a Japanese bank is still preferable to dealing with the riff-raff at your average American bank.
On his last visit home to Japan, my father set in motion the process of retrieving copies of bank statements for my visa application. To begin with, he called his Japanese bank and requested an appointment. A few days later, at his scheduled time, he went to said bank, took a number, and sat down. All of this may seem archaic in a country where we pop by the ATM a few times a week, or use our cards a few times a day; however, Japan is still a cash-based economy, and most people go to their bank closer to once a month. When it was his turn, my dad was given the undivided attention of an actual banker, who sat with him, discussed his needs, and the best way to accomplish them.
It will take some getting used to when I arrive in the country, but Japan's banking style reminds me sweetly of my maternal grandfather, who worked for the now defunct Bank Cal: he took the bus to work each day in a suit and tie, and he took his duties very seriously. It hearkens back to a bygone era when banking was a real business, not the flim-flam it is today, entirely set-up with the goal of bilking its customers. Once I move to Japan, I have great plans for getting dressed up at the beginning of each month, taking the train to my new bank, and doing my business in town like the good old days.
Out of my imagination and back into the land of reality, my dad settled his business in Japan, came home to the Americas, and waited. When the Japanese bank finished the requisite paperwork and fulfilled his requests, the information was sent to his family home in Japan. When it arrived, it was put into a new envelope and forwarded to the U.S., just over one month later.
That is where we are now.
I'm taking this moment to update the blog because—despite the stress of knowing I must send in my visa application and about 12 more pounds of paperwork—filling all this stuff out and comprehending how long it will take if anything is forgotten or mistaken is even more stressful. So, I suppose I am procrastinating. Then again, I haven't made a blog post in a while, so let us not say Scout is shirking her duties, but simply getting to them in a more roundabout sort of way.
In the mean time, I await my envelope from California. When that arrives in a few days, I will attach the banking info to Jarrett's and my visa applications, send it to Japan, and await the decision with baited breath.
Japanese banks are a thing which would send any red-blooded American screaming for the hills. Additionally, every fee and inconvenience an American bank levies upon its customers (which are ridiculous by all standards) pales in comparison to the rigamaroll and hoops which must be jumped through in the Land of the Rising Sun. However, despite their bizarre hours and bizarre-er fees (all ATM transactions garner a fee; weekend ATM usage costs more!), the quaintness and the respectful business style of a Japanese bank is still preferable to dealing with the riff-raff at your average American bank.
On his last visit home to Japan, my father set in motion the process of retrieving copies of bank statements for my visa application. To begin with, he called his Japanese bank and requested an appointment. A few days later, at his scheduled time, he went to said bank, took a number, and sat down. All of this may seem archaic in a country where we pop by the ATM a few times a week, or use our cards a few times a day; however, Japan is still a cash-based economy, and most people go to their bank closer to once a month. When it was his turn, my dad was given the undivided attention of an actual banker, who sat with him, discussed his needs, and the best way to accomplish them.
It will take some getting used to when I arrive in the country, but Japan's banking style reminds me sweetly of my maternal grandfather, who worked for the now defunct Bank Cal: he took the bus to work each day in a suit and tie, and he took his duties very seriously. It hearkens back to a bygone era when banking was a real business, not the flim-flam it is today, entirely set-up with the goal of bilking its customers. Once I move to Japan, I have great plans for getting dressed up at the beginning of each month, taking the train to my new bank, and doing my business in town like the good old days.
Out of my imagination and back into the land of reality, my dad settled his business in Japan, came home to the Americas, and waited. When the Japanese bank finished the requisite paperwork and fulfilled his requests, the information was sent to his family home in Japan. When it arrived, it was put into a new envelope and forwarded to the U.S., just over one month later.
That is where we are now.
I'm taking this moment to update the blog because—despite the stress of knowing I must send in my visa application and about 12 more pounds of paperwork—filling all this stuff out and comprehending how long it will take if anything is forgotten or mistaken is even more stressful. So, I suppose I am procrastinating. Then again, I haven't made a blog post in a while, so let us not say Scout is shirking her duties, but simply getting to them in a more roundabout sort of way.
In the mean time, I await my envelope from California. When that arrives in a few days, I will attach the banking info to Jarrett's and my visa applications, send it to Japan, and await the decision with baited breath.
Friday, April 16, 2010
what the everloving fuck?
crisis averted
We all remember that post I made, where I responded to Temple's request for more information, right? I'm pretty sure it didn't just happen in my head. As a matter of fact, I have the copies of the forms Temple sent me, annotated with the note:
• received 3/26
• copied 1040, W2s; sent out 3/27
right here in front of me while I patiently wait on hold, listening to classical music by some Philadelphia orchestra, what will be playing at the Verizon Center next month. As I wait here, impatiently humming, I'm staring at the letter I received from Temple yesterday, which is decidedly not my financial aid award letter, also which I desperately need to complete my visa application.
Nope. This letter begins, "On 03/18/2010 we requested that you forward documents to us..."
What the fuck? So I just mailed off my financial and tax information to some sort of Pennsylvania abyss? Seriously, the campus in Japan seems to get my correspondence just fine, and usually in record time. What on Earth is going on between here and the next three time zones? Also, manalive it's weird sending information to and technically attending school in a state I've never even visited.
Don't get me wrong: I've considered going to Philly. History and heart of the early nation and all that (also: I've secretly been wanting a Temple t-shirt, but I refuse to jinx myself by ordering one until my visa comes through). I even considered taking a brief road trip there and to D.C. before expatriating, but—even more than not having the money—I don't have the time.
Hold, hold, hold, hold, hold, hol...
"Hi, I'm a recently admitted student, and..."
"I.D. number?"
"I believe it's 91X XXX XXX, and my name is Ang..."
"How can I help you?"
blah blah blah, sent you these documents, blah blah blah Pennsylvanian Abyss, blah blah blah WTH...
(I use heck here, but not on the phone, because my mama didn't raise no dummy, and despite the fact that I am exasperated [and once again sleeping less and less each day] I always speak cordially with people who can erase all my valid information with a couple of keystrokes. I also take notes, record dates, and ask for names)
...blah blah blah I was hoping you could tell me what's going on?
"We have all your information."
"Everythin...?"
"Yes, we have everything. "
"Really?! But I just got this letter, and..."
"We have everything. Thank you for call..."
"Wait! When perchance will you be sending a letter to that effect?"
"Probably next week."
"Next week?"
"Probably."
"Awesome. Great. Thanks so much. Oh, and can I get your name?"
• received 3/26
• copied 1040, W2s; sent out 3/27
right here in front of me while I patiently wait on hold, listening to classical music by some Philadelphia orchestra, what will be playing at the Verizon Center next month. As I wait here, impatiently humming, I'm staring at the letter I received from Temple yesterday, which is decidedly not my financial aid award letter, also which I desperately need to complete my visa application.
Nope. This letter begins, "On 03/18/2010 we requested that you forward documents to us..."
What the fuck? So I just mailed off my financial and tax information to some sort of Pennsylvania abyss? Seriously, the campus in Japan seems to get my correspondence just fine, and usually in record time. What on Earth is going on between here and the next three time zones? Also, manalive it's weird sending information to and technically attending school in a state I've never even visited.
Don't get me wrong: I've considered going to Philly. History and heart of the early nation and all that (also: I've secretly been wanting a Temple t-shirt, but I refuse to jinx myself by ordering one until my visa comes through). I even considered taking a brief road trip there and to D.C. before expatriating, but—even more than not having the money—I don't have the time.
Hold, hold, hold, hold, hold, hol...
"Hi, I'm a recently admitted student, and..."
"I.D. number?"
"I believe it's 91X XXX XXX, and my name is Ang..."
"How can I help you?"
blah blah blah, sent you these documents, blah blah blah Pennsylvanian Abyss, blah blah blah WTH...
(I use heck here, but not on the phone, because my mama didn't raise no dummy, and despite the fact that I am exasperated [and once again sleeping less and less each day] I always speak cordially with people who can erase all my valid information with a couple of keystrokes. I also take notes, record dates, and ask for names)
...blah blah blah I was hoping you could tell me what's going on?
"We have all your information."
"Everythin...?"
"Yes, we have everything. "
"Really?! But I just got this letter, and..."
"We have everything. Thank you for call..."
"Wait! When perchance will you be sending a letter to that effect?"
"Probably next week."
"Next week?"
"Probably."
"Awesome. Great. Thanks so much. Oh, and can I get your name?"
Saturday, April 10, 2010
hello again
No, I have not disappeared off the face of the Earth. I went back to school last week, signed up for a few extra shifts at work, and promptly threw out my back. Just when I thought I was on the mend, I awoke to worse pain, and have been pretty much lying around flat on my back ever since. I wish I could enjoy the position, but as a consummate worrier, I pretty much lie there thinking of all the stuff I could be doing.
I think I may actually be getting better this time. It'll probably still destroy my weekend, but—fingers crossed—that will be the end of it. I did manage to get a swim in on Tuesday (before the worst of it hit), and I hope that when I can begin exercising again, it will help strengthen those dreaded back muscles.
Until then, I'll just keep watching the ceiling and picturing images in the beautiful, beautiful asbestos.
I think I may actually be getting better this time. It'll probably still destroy my weekend, but—fingers crossed—that will be the end of it. I did manage to get a swim in on Tuesday (before the worst of it hit), and I hope that when I can begin exercising again, it will help strengthen those dreaded back muscles.
Until then, I'll just keep watching the ceiling and picturing images in the beautiful, beautiful asbestos.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
pay me, pal
After much pathetic struggling, I finally figured out how to add a PayPal button to the blog. It's over there! --------------->
If you ordered DVDs, I'll let you know the final cost (including nominal shipping fees), and you may click there to deposit the monies. I will send your package (hee hee!) when I receive confirmation. Yay! If Scout made other arrangements with you, simply ignore this post and go about your business.
Have a lovely day!
If you ordered DVDs, I'll let you know the final cost (including nominal shipping fees), and you may click there to deposit the monies. I will send your package (hee hee!) when I receive confirmation. Yay! If Scout made other arrangements with you, simply ignore this post and go about your business.
Have a lovely day!
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