Nekkid, Clueless and Feelin' Good: January 22, 2001

Monday,
January 22, 2001

Bracing the Embassy

Oh, my stars and garters. We started the Green Card process for Lyndon today (the reason why I flew back for three whole days, whee). Got dressed up in something business-like yet nice, took a cab down to the Embassy, shivered in the snow for a couple of minutes with a group of other applicants until the guard came out and asked if there were any US citizens in the line, then were funnelled inside the sacred gates.

Looking back on it, we probably didn't have to get dressed up at all (the clerks certainly weren't), but I've dealt with enough governments to know that when you want something from them, you go looking like you mean business. Unforunately, neither of our suit jackets were really set up for winter weather in Sweden, and since Lyndon didn't have an overcoat I felt that I should be a loyal wife and freeze along with him. Feel the love, people.

So we got in, after I surrendered my Swiss Army knife to the gate guard, and were directed to this little addendum of a building that handled visa applicants. After waiting patiently to be seen by a clerk (which wasn't that bad, admittedly -- it only took 20 minutes or so), we got the requisite stack of forms and sat down to fill them all out. Gods be praised, Lyndon had actually read the US Embassy website the day before, so we knew to bring photo booth pictures of each of us, as well as the fifteen million pieces of documentation that the clerks might want to see (turned out all they wanted to see was our passports and our marriage license).

Finally, the passports and license were handed back with another sheaf of paperwork, to be brought back in when Lyndon has his interview. And that's when the bomb dropped -- it takes three to four weeks for an interview, which isn't bad, but first he has to get a physical and produce police reports from all the countries he's lived in since age 16 to document his (nonexistent) criminal background. That's England, Canada, Holland and Sweden -- four countries, four sets of bureaucracies to brace. Oy. At least England and Sweden shouldn't take long (the Swedes move fast when it comes to this sort of paperwork, and we know British cops so that report should be easy to get), and Canada should be relatively easy as well. Holland, however, is going to be a bitch, we just know it. He's going to call the TSB Human Resources office in Rijen and see if they can expedite the process any -- if not, he's going to go there himself and kick it into gear.

In the meantime, I have to fill out a sponsorship form, get a letter from my company detailing that I am indeed gainfully employed and can support him, have everything notarized, and provide my tax returns for the last three years.

Um. . .

I don't have tax returns for the last three years, at least not American ones. I only started working full-time again in November 1998, and that was in Sweden. And since I was living in Sweden, I filed and paid Swedish taxes. Which means I'm going to have to call the IRS and see what they have to say about all this. Lovely.

But at least it was relatively painless. We need to run around like loons for the next few weeks, and I'm not looking forward to speaking with the tax man just on general principle, but everything is now moving forward.

I just wish I didn't have to leave him tomorrow.

TOP