On Mother’s Day, we got the best news: I was granted my hella goddamn PERMANENT RESIDENT VISA. Continue reading “5 years and a permanent resident”
Yesterday, we got the big news we’ve been waiting for since… basically the moment in 2013 that we decided to live together.
I GOT MY VISA!
All the stress, all the worry, all the paperwork, all the days off from work to stand in line at various government agencies and all the thousands of dollars spent, and it all came through. And in possibly a year (not the 2 years I originally thought) I’ll be granted a Permanent Residency – and we’ll never have to worry about my visa status EVER. AGAIN. The fact that we don’t have to worry about it anymore has brought so much relief – but the idea that now we have more security, it makes planning for the future so much easier.
Like, it’s not insane to think about buying a car, now. And I can arrange for my books to be shipped here. And maybe we can get a pet. You know – the important things in life.
I thought that there would be a lot more pomp and circumstance when I found out – with all the effort that went into getting the visa, I was at least hoping for a kangaroo holding to deliver the visa in the form of a bronzed plaque and a hand full of balloons saying WELCOME!! Instead, it arrived in an innocuous email that I at first thought was asking me for more information. Ah well, however it happened, I’m glad that it did. We thought we were going to have to wait until July at least – if not December, before we found out. And that we found out Monday when our third anniversary was on Saturday – that’s just sweet timing.
Also it gave us another excuse to celebrate with cake. And that’s basically why I do everything in life – for the possibility of cake.
So happy days – happy visa-ing, and happy anniversaring. Joel, there’s no one I could ever imagine doing this with… every day, you show me that I made the right decision. Thank you for always going above and beyond, for listening, for counselling, for making the best punch drunk chicken this side of the meridian, for always knowing. I love you more than I love sweatpants. Even if you do love Suspect Zero more than you love me.
I woke up this morning at about 6 AM, first because the entire right side of my body had fallen into a deep coma sleep and woke up with an intense pins and needles feeling when Joel lightly brushed me in his sleep. My second thought, after OMG I’M ON FIRE, was AW RIGHT IT’S SATURDAY LETS WAKE UP AND DO STUFF!
Of course, by ‘do stuff’ I meant, get my finger prints made to send off to the FBI for my identity check. Because, HOORAY, I was notified on Wednesday that my visa application was received, and that I was granted a bridging (temporary) visa that allows me to work full time while they’re processing/approving my partner visa. And they outlined my next steps for me, which are:
1. Get fingerprinted and submit the prints for an FBI Identity and Background check
2. Get a medical exam, chest x-ray, and HIV test (which makes my anti-discrimination senses prick up, but what can you do.)
3. Submit both reports
4. Wait for final word on my visa
A condition of the bridging visa is that I can’t leave the country while my partner visa is processing, unless I apply and pay for a separate travel visa. But you have to be in the country when they make the decision on your visa. And it’s a slim chance that it’ll happen, but if an interview was needed and I wasn’t here, it would be bad news. So the whole thing makes me too nervous. Looks like I’ll be sitting tight for the next 12-15 months. Which is a bit of a bummer, since I was day dreaming about Joel and me visiting the States for Thanksgiving next year. Grr.
Anywho, I left the house early, armed with my completed FBI forms and my FD-258 print card. I got the bus on time, made it to the station without getting lost, and I was the first in line! woohoo, I’ll be out so quick and home by 10:30, I thought! And that’s when I realized I forgot my self addressed, stamped envelope. Because I’d read online that I’d need a SASE and I’d written it down a bunch of times but of course I didn’t remember to do it. So I walked to 3 convenience stores, a grocery store, and finally to the office supply store, before I found envelopes that were the right size. It was only 5 or 6 blocks, but 5 or 6 blocks is a lot when you’re trying to get something done quickly.
So I get back to the station an hour later, and it takes about 20 minutes to get my prints done because they are done electronically now, and the sensors couldn’t get a decent image of any of the fingers on my right hand. All I could think was Could I be a right handed bandit? Getting away with shit because they can’t lift prints off my right hand? And then I thought that I shouldn’t be thinking of my future as a crime villain when I’m standing in a police station being finger printed by a cop and standing under a CCTV. I will say though, besides my shifty right hand, the staff and officers at City Central Police Station were really helpful and quick, so if you need finger prints and you’re in Sydney, hit them up.
After my walk about morning, I decided I’d stop at this cool looking restaurant for brunch. But all the tables were full and the menu was a bit too expensive for me, when all I wanted was banana bread with ricotta cheese and honey (my new obsession). So I changed my mind on brunch. But, as I was walking back to the bus, I passed a cafe called My Sweet Memory, which boasted coffee and stationery. Both of which are.my.jam. I walked in and the bakery case was full of pies and rolls and scrolls and yum, and they had banana bread. I asked the lady behind the register if they had ricotta cheese, and if I could have it on banana bread. She said yes. I went to pay for my order which was $8.50, took out my wallet and remembered I’d spent the last of my petty cash on Tuesday. And of course, they had a minimum card charge of $10. Instead of just saying, “sorry, Thanks though,” and walking away, I panicked under pressure and ordered a chocolate muffin to split with Joel later. I just realised now that I should have ordered a Nutella scroll. Fuck.
I went to the bathroom, since it was now close to 11:30 I’d had to pee for the last two hours, but someone was in there having a really unfortunate bowel issue. And she didn’t leave the entire time I was there. There wasn’t much stationery and what was there wasn’t interesting (besides a photo album that had a funny Japanese to English translation quote on it), which was really disappointing. I got my coffee, and it tasted like I made a bad choice. The banana bread didn’t come with ricotta, because they don’t have ricotta. It tasted good, but it was nothing to write home about. And they were playing some tragically bad 90’s R+B and easy listening over the loud speakers. And I still had to pee. Overall, a pretty lame brunch experience.
Before I got on the bus, a very sad homeless man asked me for change, so I gave him the .60 or so cents I had. I felt good about that, but a little shitty that I couldn’t give him more, because I really, really, want to believe that he’d use it to buy a sandwich, and not meth.
I got home, about to burst, and put the clothes out to dry in the sun.
10 mins later, brought them back in because it was getting cloudy and blustery like it was about to rain.
10 mins after that, I put the clothes back out because it was sunny again.
20 minutes after that, it looked cloudy. I gave it some time, and they clouds cleared again and it was blazingly sunny.
5 minutes after that, I looked up and it was a bit grey.
2 mins after that, it was raining all over my clothes. DANG IT.
At the same time that I saw it was raining, I was on the phone with my US bank, trying to figure out why my credit card with a $0 balance and an expiration year of 2017 was declining a small purchase. Turns out the bank sent me a new credit card which would be active on July 1, and I didn’t get any notice of this new card beyond an email sent to me in April. I didn’t even receive the new credit card. The rep told me it was more than likely an address mix up (different address for primary and credit card accounts, long story) on their part, but there was nothing they could do to extend my “expired” card. Normally, it wouldn’t be a huge deal, except I put that credit card information down on my FBI forms as payment.
I jumped off the phone with the bank since there wasn’t anything they could do and ran to bring the clothes in before they got soaked. And as I brought the clothes dryer in for the 800th time that day, it fell apart. Hello, last straw. So I had a minor moment of anger hysteria where I cried a bit and texted Joel and Leah an angry rant because I’m on a relatively tight time frame with the Identity check and just too many little things had gone wrong today.
Sometimes you just need to kick rocks for a bit. And swear at them. But, I got myself together, fixed the drying rack, sat by the heater and figured out 2 back up plans for the finger prints.
I feel better now, but I also feel like I could kill a bottle of red wine tonight.
Lessons Learned this Saturday:
1. ALWAYS check and double check your check list
2. Don’t order pastries under pressure.
3. DONT bring the clothes in until it starts to rain
4. Buy an electric dryer when move into your new place
5. ALWAYS read the emails your bank sends, even when they look like the blanket announcement emails that don’t involve you
6. STOP rushing. You mess up when you rush.
Alright, now I’m off to make bolognese. I hope I don’t cut my fingers off in the process.