Many of us have watched "Home Alone," "The Wolf of Wall Street," "Iron Man," "Supernatural," "Gossip Girl," "Suits," and much more. And I think everyone has dreamed at some point of ice skating in Central Park, working in an elegant office on the 95th floor of a prestigious skyscraper with an ocean view, or watching the sunset on a beach somewhere in San Diego.

But America always seemed like a beautiful and unattainable goal. It was inconceivable that an ordinary girl from the suburbs of Saint Petersburg could go travel around the America she saw in movies and TV shows. But then...

2015. I find out that my classmates are going to the States to WORK. How? HOW? Envy and delight. Confusion and admiration. Maybe it's not as complicated as it seemed?

2016. History repeats itself. I learn more details and find out about Work and Travel. But after stories about searching for job offers, memorizing rules, problems with meeting people in the States, and language requirements, everything becomes impossible again.

June 25, 2016. A friend leaves for the USA on a tourist visa. I lived through her tears, panic, and uncertainty. Joy, delight, dreams of returning. And that's where my story begins.

My friend gave me a good "kick." She was the first person who almost forced me to try and take a risk. Who believed that everything would definitely work out, that I wouldn't regret it and would return a completely different person. And that's exactly what happened...

Thus begins an 8-month journey to a cherished dream.

Everything went smoothly (almost). I quickly found employers, housing, and sponsors. As soon as the job offer was confirmed, I sent documents to Lithuania to get a loan. And finally, the money was transferred, the documents were in hand, and it was time to book an interview.

Going to the visa center turned out to be an epic saga.

For the interview, I had to know the answer to about 120 questions, give or take. Questions about your life, travels, family, hobbies, studies, and so on.

I was very nervous. Although, when the first wave went, everyone wrote that there was no need to worry, everything would be fine. And then it was my turn. I will never forget that day. April 19. The interview was scheduled for 11:35. I left home around 9. I thought, well, 2.5 hours should definitely be enough for me. But no. I was stuck in traffic on Moskovskoye Highway for about an hour. Then something happened that I didn't expect at all - a traffic jam in the subway. We were traveling about 10 minutes from one station to another. I started to panic because I realized I wasn't going to make it. I wrote to my brother to find out what was happening. He said they found a bag at Sennaya and it was taking a very long time. It took me about 20 minutes to get from Kupchino to Moskovskaya. My brother told me to fly out of the subway and get into a taxi. He called a taxi, I ran out of the subway and rushed across the entire square. I was shaking, tears were welling up, and panic was overwhelming me. 20 minutes until the interview, and it's about a 30-40 minute drive. People were calming me down, tears were already streaming down my face, and I started to come to terms with the thought that this was it, the end. I was at the consulate at 11:40. I ran up to the door and was told I had to wait. A weight lifted off my shoulders. And so I entered the consulate. The first security checkpoint. A very kind man who encouraged me and helped me relax a little, he checked my things and let me through. The man at the second stage was less friendly. I started shaking again, they searched my whole bag and picked on my pencil case.

The final queue for the interview. I saw more and more people being rejected, and I started to get nervous. Shortly before me, the young and cheerful consuls were replaced, and everyone was already tense. There were two consuls: a man and a woman. The woman was more welcoming, the man was gloomy. Naturally, everyone wanted to get to the lady. BUT they were rejecting guys in both of those windows right in front of me. I had already mentally prepared for a rejection, as I ended up with the man. My voice was trembling from what I had been through in the morning, you're all on edge, but you try to smile. The consul asks: "Are you nervous?" to which I reply: "A little." And then the moment of truth. The 2 minutes he was silent felt like an eternity to me. He was entering something into the computer, and then he signed my work permit, put a stamp on it, and I heard the cherished words: "Your visa is approved." I was the happiest person on Earth, I called everyone I could immediately. When I walked into the classroom to my group, the first thing I heard was "Well?" I did a victorious "Yes!" and the whole group started applauding. It was very sweet. They were genuinely worried for me and sincerely happy.

That same day I bought tickets to Denver, and the countdown began. During the 4 days before the flight, I passed my exams, packed my suitcase the night before I left, cried my eyes out, and hoped that everything would be fine.

And so, on May 19, 2017, I boarded the plane SPb-Moscow-New York-Denver.