In a pickle (sigh, I remember the ones you get with fries in America...)

Have spoken to two lawyers re: moving to America to LIVE WITH MY HUSBAND. At $100 an hour each, they have given us completely conflicting information.

Lawyer Scum says:

• the whole system is screwed!
• don't even bother trying to come to America on a tourist visa and switching because 'they' don't like that and you could potentially get yourself BARRED from the States
• you'll just have to wait in Australia for UP TO A COUPLE OF YEARS for your residency to be approved
• really there's nothing i can say or do to help you...

Lawyer Sleeze says:

• the whole system is screwed!
• just come to America on a tourist visa and we'll swap it over for you to a 'bridging visa' and then you can apply for a work permit
• just make sure customs don't think your INTENT is to stay longer, you MUST not let them know you are married and you MUST make them think you are arriving for a holiday only... i.e. LIE TO CUSTOMS
• it'll take about 4-5months to get the work permit... of course by this time your tourist visa will have expired... but who cares! America is run on illegal immigration! they love it!
  

So the system is screwed, everyone agrees on that.

But why have the lawyers given us such different information? Because Lawyer Scum didn't want our little case? Because Lawyer Sleeze wants us to end up in a big mess so we can pay him to fix it?

And it's pretty scary to think I could end up in America stuck in limbo on an expired visa therefore unable to leave until my new 'wife of an American citizen' status is confirmed. And I wouldn't be able to work.

However! I believe it is my right as a CITIZEN OF THE GALAXY to live with the person I made this stupid commitment to. What's the point in waiting at home? Surely I can manage to have a satisfying life as an illegal alien in New York city?

I feel better now. But I think we need a third opinion...

Yes, Mr Hutz?

"Wrong!!! You are not fine! You are in terrible pain!"

To All the Harry Potter Geeks,

I've never read one of those books, or seen any of those crap, lame-o movies... but today, while Dot and i were up at Fountain Lakes... WE READ THE LAST PAGE OF THE NEWEST BOOK!

So i know what happens, probably before all of you.

And guess what... THEY ALL DIE!

In a massive mishap... a trick or spell or whatever it is they do... anyway, some one stuffed up and blew up the whole school (or place or where-ever they go), where they do the magic or tricks or whatever they do!

BLEW IT UP!

TO SMITHERINES!

From what i can gather... they were boiling up some sort of a potion... on a bunsen burner or the like. Red fizz mixed with some lizard guts or something... and WHO KNEW what sort of astronomic effects it would have.

Not Harry, the little smart-arse, that's for sure...

So now that you all know what's happened... please stop banging on about it. It's a children's book... Now, let's all move on to teen fiction together.

lv mars

Bart lost his first tooth the other day... and Homer wanted to give him a hundred bucks. Marge wanted to give him a couple of bucks worth of coins.

I would have given him 50c or $1, myself.

Is this tight, or has inflation really hit hard in the last 20 years? (Probably the Labor government's fault for that nano-second they were in power in the 80's...)

Anyway, so the kid ended up with about 20 bucks worth of gold coins.

I couldn't believe it.

Some times, it's really hard being me.

It's been freezing in Melbourne, right. Like, seriously freezing. And i sit in my office all day, with a heater cranking under my desk, and still manage to freeze. So today when i woke up, and it was about 3 degrees, i decided to once and for all (well, for at least today) take affimative action and combat this problem.

Solution: Wear ALL the warmest clothes i own, at once.

This included some wool blend trousers, a long singlet, knitted top and thick cardigan. Shoes, socks, a scarf, hat, gloves and my wool coat.

It wasn't until i got to work though, that i realised i looked like a complete retard.

COMPLETE RETARD.

I sat down and changed my shoes, just before getting up to go and speak to some people. I look down and something's not quite right. I kid you not, my trousers were about 2 inches shorter than they should have been. Serious ankle freezers. So i tugged them down at the crutch, hoping to get a bit of length happening, to no avail. So i resigned myself to sitting down all day.

Time passed and i get up to go to the bathroom where i catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I guess it hadn't occrurred to me that ALL my warmest clothes seemed to be the colour brown. And i looked like a giant turd.

So there you have it; Mars is a giant poo who wears ankle freezers like a FUCKING SPASTIC.

I'm so embarrassed to be me.

What's on the menu for tomorrow? Lycra, i suppose.

Dear Mars...

You are... honoured, respected, treasured, appreciated and cherished.

Thank-you for finally, when finishing a roll of toilet paper, putting the new roll in the holder (instead of just leaving it balanced on top). I knew you had it in you.

Love Dot

Uh, excuse me... what is going on here?

mememars@hailmail.net

Invite me please, ilse... or feel my wrath.

A week on...

In retrospect, i may have been a little harsh in my initial judgement. Although these laws are grossly inconvenient... at least now when you wake up feeling like arse, you don't smell like arse, necessarily.

That stale smoke smell in your hair is rotten. And this weekend, i haven't had that.

Which makes me happy.

Adversity...

I just got an email from Blane. It's long and kind of boring [after I've taken all the lovey-dovey bits out], but it needs to be put ‘out there’ on record how inept and idiotic American immigration bureaucracy is, because if enough people complain then maybe, one day, revolution...

I highlighted the bits worth reading.


Dear Dot,

Well I'm very tired and not looking forward to trying to describe this so not sure how to start except will just get into it. Our couple weeks of waiting plan is off, because it won't work, for a fact. There is zero chance of you getting anything even in the next 2 months. Bottom line is you need to come on a tourist visa and then transfer to the permanent one 485 (green card). That is what will happen, otherwise you won't be here anytime soon andlikely won't be here till next june/julyor is a good (and serious) guess. Quite possibly even later like xmas '08…

I called the people today again, initially because I wanted to see if the i-129f form passed, but also because I was worried since we changed the address from nyc (where sent the i-130) to my parents in CO, that means the nebraska center not vermont deal with things, and I wanted to make sure that didn't mess anything up. For any cretin that wouldn't be a problem, but with them that's a nightmare. I talked to a guy for half an hour or so. Turns out even though on the 1-129f form it says if you are living in CO says to file at the Nebraska location, the guy checked online and tuns out Nebraska isn't even dealing with -129f forms or i130 forms at all anymore, or for a period, or decided to take a break, or move it California, or something. In the last week they decided not to or something and to move all that to the California center. So who the hell knows where our stuff will go or if it will meet up, or if the Vermont people will send stuff to California, or do it themselves, or just who knows.

In asking the guy to check on the 129f, it wasn't coming up in the database and asked how long I had sent it in- I told him 3 weeks or whatever and he just about laughed. He said what the woman told me last time was a straight up lie and he has no idea how she came up with that. From the time they actually receive it in the mail, it doesn't even REGISTER as being received in their system or that they even HAVE it for at LEAST 30 days from then. THEN, from there the guy explained it takes anywhere from 2 -6 months to "process". THEN in their own sweet time they send me a receipt, and if we're lucky enough to not have anymore requests for more info etc, they in their own sweet time send YOU notice. THEN, you make an appointment in Australia to meet at the consulate. Making the appointment takes anywhere from 2-6 months further. And no, you cannot make the appointment before you get the notice. Then after your appointment, they process the info and then send you something allowing you to come- who knows how long that part takes. But it is very unlikely they issue anything on the spot after the meeting. Keep in mind this is for the "quicker" K3 visa, whose only function is to serve as an interim temp visa while you are waiting for your real i-130. The guy said there was no real difference in time between the 129f and 130. Then having our stupid little piece of paper, issue by dumbf**ks who are pathetic enough to work there, and deserve nothing more except to either be locked up for criminal negligence, we can buy your ticket, you can get a departure date in mind, pack you stuff up, etc., and come to NYC.

Except I won't be there. I could be anywhere. I will have lived my entire life. and will probably be retired talking about my true love from Australia who… well what happened exactly? Oh well, you know, we were in love, and then it was complicated, and she was there and then we kept filing forms, and then we filed and filed, and then we filed some more. Then we waited, and waited, and waited a little more. And after that, we got more things in the mail that told us to file. Then for good measure we waited. Then Blane went ballistic and strangled a poor stupid moron in the office and got sent to jail for 50 years. Then Blane got out and the only good part was he knew the waiting would be over, Dot could move over. If she wasn't dead yet. which was only somewhat likely. Thankfully she was alive and well. Hooray! But then Blane found out there was a supplemental form that someone at the office hadn't forwarded to the correct office and so the whole application had been put on hold and wasn;t any closer to being done than when he choked the horrible terrible and overall grotesquely fat, stupid, reality-addicted 40 year old dept. of homeland security visa employee mother of three stupid, screaming little bastard children, each of whom was in the bottom of their class and were disliked by their teachers since all they did was punch and trip the other kids at recess while they ate cheetos. This lady would've been only pathetic except she was actually mean because she thought she was doing everyone a favor and diligently protecting the USA from "terrorists", and would lecture people on the dangers of lax security, loose borders, and the nasty people from all the places she couldn't find on the map. Naturally, she had never stepped foot outside the US. You see, she was a very stupid person, and never could understand that she had an infinitely better chance of having a shitty life and being killed by her deadbeat husband (either beaten to death or just bored to death by his boring ID card government existence), and having her kids shoot themselves playing with guns even though she insisted they were for "protection" and it was within her rights under the 2nd amendment to "bear arms"… as well as to accidentally kill her own family with them.

It was a shame too, because Dot was going to explain to Blane that Cheltenham was probably the most happening place in all of Melbourne by then, so trains went by all the time, and you never had to worry about them closing. It only took 10 minutes to get from the city to home. Plus the hillshoist was still very useful for drying clothes, and the house was worth 25 million dollars since it was right in the thick of things. Young people used to wonder how that old lady lived in an actual house in such a hip neighborhood. It still had a faux leather couch. It was very comfortable you see. And thanks to the ravages of global warming, it was always quite comfy- you never even had to wear a sweater inside.

I also got something in the mail saying our i130 is on hold until I provide more info. That "more info" is a g-325 for me. They said I didn't include it. I have a photocopy in that yellow folder of what I sent with the i130 and DID include a 325 for me (and you, which they do have). Remember, we both had to include our own 325s and we thought it was dumb since they both had the exact same info? Who knows what happened. This is what I'm talking about. Does this mean I am supposed to send another 325 with another cheque for a couple hundred bucks? Do you see how these people don't deserve to live? I'm pretty sure this is starting to make me prejudiced against govt workers for the rest of my life.

I love you very much though. That, we can both be sure of. :)
-Blane

What's fucking you off this weekend, Mars?

I'll tell you what's fucking me off; these new goddammed smoking laws!

Eh?

Yeah, the JERKS who want clean air to breathe. They think they're entitled to it.

Entitled to it?

Yeah! And the people... who think they're entitled to a smoke-free work place.

What people?! Absurd!

I KNOW!

So... what are you going to do?

I dunno... i guess i'll just fight it the best way i know how...

...

Y'know...

Car bomb?

Well, i was thinking more along the lines of just standing outside shiverring my balls off and bitching the fuck out of the situation...

...

But now you've got me thinking...

WHAT ARE YOU THINKING, MARS?

I'm gonna boycott.

Boycott?

You heard me; boycott.

So what, you're not going to frequent any more booze-holes??

That's right. And furthermore, i'm not going to drink anymore booze either!

No more booze!?!! IMPOSSIBLE!

May be so, my friend... may be so...

But wait, how does this solve the problem of having to smoke out-doors, like a common dog?

Well, it doesn't exactly, does it?

No.

...

Mars didn't make it (home last Friday night...)

Kind of weird. At first I thought this might have happened:

Option A: She picked-up (and/or fell asleep with a cute guy and they both forgot to take their clothes off.)

But then I worried this might have happened:

Option B: She passed out (in public somewhere while all her friends politely ignored her.)

But no!

Option C? She got so drunk she asked the cab driver to take her to her mum's house. Forgetting that she moved-out five years ago, Mars happily climbed into her mother's bed and fell asleep (luckily her mother was out enjoying Option A that night).

Can't wait to see what happens this Friday...

________________

Endnote: I got 'drunk photo' off the disturbing website passed-out-girls.com: "Passed out girls! Girls drunk and passed out 100% free pictures!" This website is one of the many reasons if Blane and I ever have kids they are not going to college in America.

A day in the life of a passive aggressive...

Me: i don't really understand the sizing system here...
Shop assistant: well, there's 1 and there's 2.
Me: just two sizes?
Shop assistant: actually, size 1 is really an 8-10, and size 2 is a 10-12, and all the knits are 'free sizes'.
Me: 'free sizes', like one size fits all?
Shop assistant: um...
Me: or, you mean like anyone is free to try them on?
Shop assistant: yes...
Me laughing: regardless of whether they fit or not?
Shop assistant: huh?
Me: huh.
Shop assistant: i know.


__________________
(happy birthday to Kiki!)