Ooops

I haven’t posted in a long time.

I got stressed and anxious and sitting at a computer was the last thing I wanted to be doing. The move kind of sprung itself on me, I had been working towards it for two years and then all of a sudden I was buying tickets and packing my bag and it was more than I could handle – packing up my life as my family are all getting set for a christmas together.

Rus had a few personal things going on in his own world, things that aren’t mine to mention here, but it meant he wasn’t around to chat that much and that certainly made it a lot harder.

I was going to just let the blog go, stop writing and switch to tumblr full time but that isn’t the place for long rambling posts and writing does make me feel… something. I don’t know how to describe it, it isn’t like I’m miserable and this is a place to let go, to release all my torment or anything like that because my life is pretty good right now. I guess I just enjoy it.

So I packed up stuff, kissed my parents farewell and hopped on a plane to LA. A week later I was married and that was a weird feeling. I store Rus in my phone as Husband! just to remind myself that yes that really happened (in a good way).

America is bizarre, it’s very similar to the UK – mainly because of the language, but then it’s very different – mainly because of the Americans. I’m settling in and it’s becoming more normal but I’m still pining for home in some ways. We cooked a big roast dinner on Christmas Eve, it was dark out, we had christmas pop music playing and it was hot in the kitchen so I opened the door sincerely expecting to be hit by that wall of cold air, so cold it catches in the back of your throat and makes your chest feel damp.

Instead it was warmer outside than in the kitchen.

When things like that happen and catch me unawares I want to go and sit on my bed and close the curtains and take a nap. But I don’t, I power through and hope no one notices the lump in my throat.

So I’m hoping writing will help me straighten out any sad feelings in my head, help me document any fun things we do and also give me a bit of a hobby. I can’t work for quite a while and, living with his parents, I have very few household chores to do.

Visa interview

On Wednesday I packed up all my proof, forms, certificates and photos and headed to London for my appointment at the US embassy.

Getting the appointment was a bit of a struggle. I hit an odd time at the embassy, they were swapping from a snail mail process to an online one and then their government malfunctioned and closed down for a few weeks [to probably play GTAV]. This also coincided with the Royal Mail going private and all the joyous postage problems that have followed.

I was expecting my appointment letter to come around the beginning of October. When I hadn’t heard anything I called and was told an appointment had been issued and I would receive notice of it within the week. Two weeks later I had nothing so I called again and was told this time that there was no case attached to my file number. A panic attack inducing statement.

Much googling later I found and online query form and sent a simple email explaining when my medical had been, when my paperwork was submitted and asking when I was likely to hear something.

They responded within a few days to tell me that I was scheduled for the 7th at 0800 and that this had been sent in writing.

Finally!

The letter never turned up and still hasn’t. So I packed everything I could think I would need and set off to London with my mum in tow.

The interview was a lot less formal than I expected. I kind of got the impression that everything was set before I had got there and that this was just formalities. Of course I could be wrong, people probably do get rejected at this point, I’m just good at being oblivious so seriousness. Seriously, ask my boss!

I was in the embassy for two hours and ten minutes, plus queueing outside for 30 minutes. I was being “interviewed” for about 2o minutes, at the very most, which was split in half. The first half checked my certificates and took a payment, the second half asked the questions and gave me the approval.

Now to begin to set dates, pack my stuff up and start saying my farewells!

It’s a good job you don’t believe in signs…

My best friend muttered these words to me as we sat eating hot wings in TGIFridays about a week ago.

I’d just finished my rant on the American Government Close Down and having no idea what was happening with my visa. The website said embassy was still open to serve American citizens, I am not one of those but this is kind of serving Rus so maybe it counted. To be honest, when something is worrying me I do a great job of sticking my head in the sand. I worry and fret and freak out but I don’t actually do anything proactive. Because while I’m fretting but not googling they’re all still, technically irrational worries. Once I have confirmation that I’m right, that’s when the real problems began.

So I looked on the embassy website to answer questions people were throwing at me… I just didn’t look deep enough to get any real hard facts.

If I think about what my friend says I can’t help but laugh. I’m a logical person, I don’t believe in signs, yet even I must admit this could quite easily be seen as a string of DON’T DO THIS! signs from the off.
First the engagement ring didn’t fit, then the visa application got lost in the post and then when we are meters from the finish line the government closes down and everything comes to a stand still.

Everything is up and running again and in full swing. I called the Embassy call centre to try and find out what kind of delay I’m looking at, I really really want to be there for Rus’ birthday. The guy I spoke to on the phone, Jason he was called, told me that my file was last updated on the 11th October and an interview date should be through within a week… that’s by Tuesday! My vague calculations had me expecting one by tomorrow so it would seem I’m not actually behind at all, there has been no delay and I signed on for another month of work for absolutely no reason.

Thus I resolve I will STOP my habit of ignoring things, no more burying my head in the sand and choosing to just worry irrationally.

 

Medical

Yesterday I wrapped up warm, grabbed my umbrella, and headed to London for a medical examination as part of the blessed visa procedure.

The medical itself costs £235 so when I was looking into transport to London  – I live about 300miles away which shatters all Americans illusions that we’re all BFFs with the Queen – I couldn’t justify an extra £100 for train tickets. Instead I opted for the £10 bus return. I’ve done it before and it’s always the same. I tell myself it’s worth it because of the money I’ll save, I promise I’ll dress in comfortable clothes and take a travel pillow for a comfortable nap, I vow to charge my iPod and pack snacks, I swear to take a travel sickness pill so I can read if I want.

Only there are no clothes comfortable enough, no travel pillow squidgy enough, no lunchbox snack tasty enough, to make it a nice pleasant ride and I always wonder about heading to Kings Cross and buying a single to my home town as I trudge back to the bus station after a long day of bustling on the tube, wrestling down the high streets and having no one smile!

Seriously, Londoners being miserable is a stereotype for a very good reason!

Anyway. I got to the medical office with time to spare.

My nerves were kicking in, I have no idea why. I don’t have tuberculosis or any of the other illnesses they are checking for, I haven’t been in contact with anyone who may have them and I’m not addicted to smack. But, sitting in the waiting room my heart was pounding, my sweaty hands were shaking and I couldn’t decide if I was too hot or too cold. My mind was racing, maybe I have got TB – that old lady at work was coughing the other day after all. And maybe I’m secretly being slipped a daily dose of crack and am in fact a crazed addict; hell knows I was acting like one!

I was eventually called through and much to my relief my legs still worked.

A friendly lady talked me through my vaccination records, all were in order.

I was then sent to a second friendly lady for an x-ray. It was all terribly British as she asked me to take my clothes off. I nervously made  a joke while she politely looked away suffering from that affliction all British medics face of having to override their inherent prudishness to do the job they have been called to do.

After to x-ray it got a little weird as I was left in an open fronted robe and returned to a female only waiting room full of other women in the same robes all pretending no one is seconds away from a nip-slip as we make small talk about the weather that we aren’t going to miss when we get to our new destinations.

I seemed to be in the waiting room for the longest which nearly confirmed my fears that I am actually riddled with syphilis despite showing no signs of it and not having been in a position to catch it.

Eventually the last friendly lady called me through for my medical assessment. She asked me about my medical past, checked my eyes, ears and mouth. She then laid me on a bed to check my heart with a stethoscope and knee reflexes with a mini-hammer, she checked that I am female, took some blood, weighed and measured me then finally I was told I could re-dress.

It was nice to be warm again.

Then I paid £235 and was sent on my way.

The experience was a lot nicer than I expected. The staff were all friendly and professional. It was great to have a chance to talk to other people going through a visa application, most of them seemed to be going down the same route as me with a K1 fiance visa. We all had the same silly worries and neurosis – it was reassuring to know that how I’m feeling at this stage is kind of the norm.

If I haven’t heard anything by Friday then all my blood tests came back clear and I’ll be sent a visa interview date!

One step closer.

 

 

Visas visas visas

I remember getting ready for a family holiday to Egypt when I was about 11 and my mum talking about how we all had to get a visa. I was so excited, I imagined myself handing it over the the waiter with flair, declaring “put in on my card” or asking a girl at a check out “do you take plastic?” [yes by the age of 11 I had watched enough american tele to be well versed in credit card lingo].

My mum laughed and told me “no, this is paper work to allow us into the country. It’s not as much fun.”

Oh if only she knew the warning she was giving me.

Since I got the notice from the consulate 10 days ago I have been housesitting for a family friend in a very quiet house with visa forms for company and a constant dull ache between my eyes. Everything is filled in, my medical is scheduled, my vaccination records collected and the police check sent off for. I would like to thank google for helping guide me to a few visa forums where I was able to get all my questions answered.

Today two things turned up in the post; the paper work I need from Rus and the police check confirming that I am an upstanding member of society and that, despite encountering morons everyday, I have restrained from any form of retaliation.

So I sat down with a large mug of white tea and organised my papers. It was like a military operation. I had Post It notes, different coloured pens, a list and a pencil to check things off with.

I got everything ready. Tomorrow I make photocopies of everything with a yellow Post It note on it, post everything with a green Post It note on to the consulate office and save all the pink Post It noted things for my medical.

The head ache will only be gone when everything is in the hands of the postman.

Anyone else out there going through this let me know, I’d love to hear other stories of struggles and triumph!

Wading through mud

Yesterday I got a call from my mum while I was at work, she was excitedly letting me know that a letter had come through from the US visa office in London.

I was so giddy I could hardly concentrate on the rest of my shift.

I raced home and tore open the letter expecting to find my interview date scheduled, planning to call my boss and give my notice, buy tickets to London and arrange a medical.

Except no.

Turns out the process is different to how I had deciphered the US immigration website – a site that seriously needs a re-write by a human not a lawyer.

The letter told me to visit the immigration site [yay!] and download four forms to fill out, one I have to fill in twice for some reason, and send them to the office. The next paragraph told me not to send anything until I was requested to do so. And that paragraph was in bold so it clearly is the most important.

Is this letter my request for the forms to be posted? Or am I waiting on a follow up letter?

While I wait for the office to open on Tuesday – because Monday is a bank holiday here, I have been filling in the paperwork, writing a list of queries and losing the will to live. Because of course the forms themselves are equally confusing. One of the three-page forms is very general and is used in several different visa applications. Thus, half the questions aren’t really relevant. Such as what kind of work I am hoping to do. I don’t know yet, I plan on being a housewife for a while and picking up some hobbies. But if I put that can I not apply for a greencard in case I get bored of baking and making jewellery?!

You see celebrities getting married for publicity stunts, rocking up to divorce proceedings pregnant with someone else’s kid and doing all kinds of things that really ruin the sanctity of marriage but that’s all okay because it’s people of the same mother country. I genuinely want to spend my life with Rus but, because we were born in separate countries, we have to go through the most tedious paperwork.

I guess they are screening for greencard marriages, and you know what it’s a great system. There is no way I would go through all this if I wasn’t genuinely head over heels in love with Rus.

If anyone has made it to the otherside of the K1 Fiance visa application please let me know your story and please let it have a happy ending!