I wanted to exercise last night, but it just didn't work out.

If you know me well, well actually, even if you can tell me apart from a mere bar of soap it would be explicitly obvious that I don't like exercising and I am notoriously lazy. It's no secret, am I ashamed that I can't run more than 200 metres without collapsing? Not really. Do I receive constant backlash and harsh judgement for it, yep. O-Week has begun at Northeastern and I'm having a ball. We had a lunch at a kitsch 'Merican restaurant called Cheers, and the set menu included stuff like deep fried potato skins, deep fried cheese sticks, onion rings and buffalo chicken wings...even the carrots and celery on the plate came coated in an unsettling layer of grease. Bridget and I went for the pasta, thinking it would be the best...but it was cheese pasta with cheese sauce and two cheeses on top and cheese bread. Holy Canoli. Yesterday in downtown Boston I had a sub for lunch from the 'best sandwich place in Boston'. Their small sub was 10 inches. The large was a whopping 16 inches. It was delicious, I ate half of my small sandwich, but seriously, could you imagine getting through 16 inches of deliciously tasty sub goodness? NOPE. The quantities here are enormous. Often me and my roommates head to get sushi or salad (eating a lot of salad folks) for dinner, but even the salad portions are big enough to feed a small family.

People have been asking for photos of my city, and it is utterly beautiful



Campus downtown

It has become apparent the 'Mericans are also capable of consuming positively staggering volumes of fluids too. Alvin said that he got a large coke from McDonalds once, and it took him a good hour and a half of constant sipping, CONSTANT SIPPING, to get through it. Teamed with intermittent restroom-breaks too of course.

Boston City Hall

 

One of the many things I love about Boston is the city's mix of new buildings alongside the old

 

Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is, they have something called 'The Freshman 15', in which you gain 15 pounds (just over 7 kilos I think) during your first couple of months in College. Now  I'm not on a meal plan yet, but I foresee this as a probable outcome. LUCKILY, NEU students get free annual gym membership and me and a group of neighbours have decided (well, truth be told I wasn't terribly keen...they are sort of 'dragging me along')to start going. Doing the gym thing. Working out. It hasn't begun yet, but it's probably a good idea. In the meantime, since I live on the 2nd floor, I've made the brave and conscious decision to stop taking the elevator. Yep, I take the single flight of stairs now. Sometimes it's hard work, but I'm pushing through. And I pledge to never take the elevator to my room again. Except for when I visit The Penthouse. That's on the 5th floor. T2nd floor to 5th floor. That's certainly elevator-worthy. I'll tell you about The Penthouse later.

The weather is still so warm, and the city is alive as people are always out and about, being Bostonian

Flags everywhere...I'm learning that it's a patriotic city (more so than the rest of the country apparently)

It's funny, all this talk about exercise actually, because we had a scavenger hunt around Boston as part of an O-Week thing for the exchange students. You know in Melbourne, when you see groups of kids around looking for clues and pestering people to ask where famous landmarks are...? Well, that was us. My friends may remember not-so-fondly when I made them be a part of an Amazing Race once, and given my experience with that and this one in Boston, I can say with absolute certainty that they are no more fun if you're a participate-r, or a victim of collateral-information-seeking-damage. At first we were into it, and Danish kid Nikolai was insistent that we maintain a good pace, and he was onto us if me and a couple of the other girls stopped to browse the shops or rest for a minute. He'd march over and get us moving again. He made our team, man. A lovely chap. Anywho, my new British friend's name is - Annie Darling. That is her name. And she has this fantastic Hampshire (south of London) accent. So much so that I take great delight in exclaiming loudly "Annie, DARLNG!" in a pompous and overtly-loud British accent and throwing my hands up in the air everytime
I see her. But the coolest thing about her is that she, like me, hates exercise and wee spent a good deal of our afternoon complaining about all the walking and, at some points, RUNNING, we had to do. I think she'll be terribly upset if I trade in my unfit-self for a newer, modified fit one.

 

I hope the photos are able to capture the city's  brilliant sense of vibrancy

I once made an analogy likening people to supermarket items when I visited the U.S Consulate in Melbourne, as we were scanned in and out, with very tight security procedures. Much the same here, I'm afraid. Last night, I was on campus till quite late you see, and I headed back to my apartment at around 1am. You need your official Husky card (NEU ID card) to access the building, you need to be buzzed in through the first door by the 24-hour person at the desk, and then you can't get up to your door without them checking your ID and swiping you in. I asked about the security procedure and they said "so that we know where you are at all times"...I feel like the government is keeping serious tabs on all of us, just to make sure we don't go rouge and start a revolution.

Anyway, given it was the first day, a lot of people didn't have their Husky cards so showing your key and stating your dorm was good enough. 1am, I do that, bloke lets me up no worries, go upstairs, do some washing and head to bed at 1.30am. I'm drifting off into a peaceful slumber, dreaming of Whoopie Pies and soft fairy floss when there's a loud and intrusive knocking on my door. (I should probably add here that its terribly warm during the night, around 25 degrees and on a count of the fact I still don't have a roommate I decided to, err, sleep in a 'more comfortable' manner, due to the heat. Go figure). So thinking it was Bridget or Vee, and they wanted to like, 'hang out' at 1.30 in the morning I decided to ignore it and hope they'd get the hint. NOPE. A scramble to dress myself I answered the door, dazedd, confused, (and tbh SCARED AS HELL) and it's a blooming cop. A legit Boston NEU cop, with a badge and a very scary gun. She did not look impressed. 
"Are you Catherine?"
*me looking dazed and terribly puzzled*
"May I come in please Ma'am?"
She needed to verify my identity, basically. At 1.30 in the morning, a matter of high importance. Never mind the kid at the counter asking me to run up and get my ID and come back, or asking me to wait there, no no, I'll let you go upstairs, go to sleep, and then I'll be sneaky and call the campus cops on yo ass and make them march into your room and stand by you whilst you rummage through you dresser for your passport, and then fumble to successfully retrieve it cause your hands are shaking so bad. 
'Merica.
She left, and I couldn't sleep for ages afterwards. My room makes funny noises. I'm scared.