Oh ya... I'm STUDYING Abroad

Originally written: March 6th

People constantly ask me what brought me to Oz.

"I'm studying abroad," I tell them. "I'm going to Melbourne Uni."

"Oh." And I always know what's coming next, "What are you studying?"

Then I'm stuck in this awkward situation where I tell them what I'm studying—Magazine Journalism and Sociology—but how I’m not really taking any classes for my majors at Uni, and how my credits just kind of transfer over. This explanation is usually accompanied with clenched teeth and a lot of avoided eye contact. Afterwards, I always follow-up with, “But I study really hard at my home university and I write all of the time!”

Since ending my trip in New Zealand, I’ve surprisingly been looking forward to starting classes in Melbourne. But as this week crept closer, my eagerness to get in the classroom sort of diminished.

Especially when I discovered this week was Melbourne Fashion Week.

I entered my first lecture Monday daydreaming about the L’Oréal Runway Show. As the thick-accented professor set up the Power Point on the history of Australia, goodie-bags filled with $75 worth makeup danced in my head. It was torture.

After attending all of my scheduled lectures and tutorials for the week, I was happy with my course choices. Unlike my home university, all of the classes I’m taking are assessed based on two written assignments—that means no homework, no quizzes, and, get ready to throw the confetti, no exams. More importantly (I guess) I’m interested in the classes I’m taking and am excited to learn about the History of Sex, hear how Australians think everything has an underlying American agenda in Media, Politics and Society, and how Americans are obese but half of the world is suffering from famine in Globalisation, Self and Society.

And I didn’t end up missing fashion week completely. To celebrate the kick-off of classes some girls and I went to the Fashion Incubator Fashion Show at Baroq House, which is beautiful bar decked out in crystal chandeliers, marbled floors and tables, and silk and velvet couches. The Baroq House is again, located in a back alley near my apartment. The show featured local designers and sadly, there were no goodie-bags but there was free champagne.

Sigh. The goodie-bags will come to me one of these days.