Life for me is not all grand, exciting trips around the Scottish Hebrides, black tie dinners, and dramatic hospital recoveries. The black tie dinners have dried up now that I'm on much less prestigious projects - but less prestigious means far less stress and less having to work 6 days a week for 16 hours a day, and that was a change I embrace whole-heartedly. The hospital recovery had damn well better be a one-off. And although we do get to have trips around the Hebrides which I am hideously grateful for, we're now settled in for a summer of being at home.

My life really is generally about the day-to-day logistics-daily life, making dinner, serving my function in life as She Who Must Throw the Gorby Squeaky Toy Because It's a Game He Never Tires Of, and working. Work in itself is ok-my new projects are a bit busy but not stupid busy. I should work harder than I have been in the past few weeks (my colleague called me yesterday asking if I'd completed my technical requirements document. The truth is, I haven't even written the damn thing. I told him it needed proof-reading and I'd send it to him later today. My lie has bought me time enough to whip something up, which doesn't explain why I'm drinking cranberry juice and writing this blog post instead of writing my requirements doc.)

I really tend to lead a pretty normal, day-to-day life. I've been taking a lot of baths as they help ease my aches. My growing stomach doesn't go underwater anymore, not in any way, shape or form. I know how Dolly Parton must feel now when she floats on her back. I light up some vanilla incense. which always makes Angus comment about our 190's love child flower power pad and we resort to calling the bathroom "Helen's Opium Den" for a short while, and if Angus is upstairs, as he has been lately while he rebuilds one of our three computers, then we talk back and forth. I always read a book in the bath, and sometimes chat about it with Angus.

"Hey! Wanna hear a vegetarian joke?" I call from the bathtub, having just read a joke in the book I'm reading.

"Is there such a thing?" he replies.

"Yeah! OK, so here it is! How many vegetarians does it take to screw in a lightbulb?" I call.

"UmmmÂ…two. One to screw it in and the other to talk about their feelings?"

I pause, then bust out laughing. "No, actually, that's not it. Your answer was funnier. The answer is: 'I don't know, but where do you get your protein?'"

Silence.

Crickets.

Then from him: "Lightbulbs are a very serious matter, you know. Nothing to be joked about."

See? Ordinary life. Ordinary life includes getting the house extension going (more on that later, I'm sure you're hanging on with bated breath). It includes drying out from the never-ending rain that has been called our summer. Although we live 30 minutes from some of the flood areas we're on a slightly higher elevation and are nowhere near any water. Because of this we didn't get any flooding at our house but in one corner of the living room we have some hearty water damage as our poor little gutters just couldn't take the onslaught of water. Luckily that will be dealt with in the extension.

Two big logistical issues I'm dealing with are the aforementioned house plans, and my visa extension.

My work visa (an HSMP visa) expires in February, but since we're not going to be travelling for some months now it's a good time to send in my application. That, and I confess-the situation gets more difficult once I have dependants. As I don't currently have dependants, my case is cut and dried, so it's a good time to get it done.

Only wouldn't you know it-the government changed the rules last year (because I'm an immigrant, and as we all know, immigrants are BAD. We're a drain on society. We serve no purpose, even ones like me who are unfortunately in the UK's highest tax bracket, which makes me shudder because seriously-I'm no JK Rowling here. I'm definitely not earning money hand over fist.) Where I should now have something called Unlimited Leave to Remain in March 2008 (also known as permanent residency), I new get the pleasure of having to extend my visa for one more year, meaning I have a 17 page form to fill out (new this year), I have a host of documents to send in (new this year) and I get to pay £350 (also new this year, up from the £100 I paid before.) Plus I have to prove that I speak English, either in the form of sending in proof that I went to a school taught in English or I have to sit an English exam. Angus is keen that I sit the exam, as he says it will waste the government's time and money and he would like nothing more than getting his own back at them, but I'm keen to just get the process done.

So I've printed out the 17 page visa extension application with an eye to getting it off in the post tomorrow, as I have to get some passport sized photos of me to include in the application. I'm a little nervous, mostly because anything this serious makes me nervous, but not overwhelmngly so-I did a quick tally of the points and I qualified again under the HSMP details. It's demoralizing though-I was hoping to finally get to be a human being but really, I'm just an amalgamation of points.

The whole thing is very, very tiring and intrusive. I also have to send in my passport and be without it while my application is being considered, and I know it doesn't seem like a big deal, but my passport has been a major factor in my life for the past 9 years. It's stupid - and I swear I'm not being pretentious here - but I feel naked without it. I'm a foreigner here, and that blue embossed passport is one of my anchors to who I am and where I can go. The questions on the form are detailed and need back-up evidence everywhere you turn. An example of some of the questions:

Name: Helen Adelaide

Age: 33, but I'm told I'm a youthful 33.

Do you own your home: Not yet. You making me an offer here?

Are you employed: Yes. And Satan has not yet come to collect my soul on that count.

Please describe your educational background: I got me some learning. I went to school. I mostly remember my college years no less, and we're talking a haze of estrogen-related rage here, people. OK, so the degree is in anthropology and French. You never specified it had to be a useful degree, not at all.

Do you have any dependants: I have the world's dumbest but most lovable dog and the Angriest Cat Known to Man. Also, Angus is very dependant on me. He can never find his reading glasses, if you get rid of me he'll die in the confines of the hallway, never having found his glasses so unable to read if the lock says "Locked" or "Unlocked". And he's a British citizen! Do you want to contribute to a loss of one of the Queen's own? Huh? DO YOU?

What color is your wee: Not applicable.

Have you ever been convicted of genocide: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

This is serious!: Sorry, I wasn't making light, I just couldn't believe you have that on the form. What, did Milosevic try to get in the country a lot to work as an accountant or something? But no. No I haven't been convicted. Or even tried genocide, actually. But there are a few anthills I knocked out in the front garden, I'm pretty sure that the Antz population are up in arms. Does that count?

Do you fantasize about being in a Harry Potter novel: No, but I confess I nearly fantastized about Harry Potter once I saw those Equus posters, but then I remembered how old he was.

Please submit evidence of financial activity in the UK, such as official bank statements: Actually, most banks (including mine) do online statements, which I choose as I want to save the environment. What, am I going to be penalized because I'm a tree hugger? Is that it? Save the planet, save the world! Wanna' hear a vegetarian joke?

-H.

PS-Some folks have been kindly asking about a wishlist. It's proven to be a logistical nightmare too, so I've simply updated my own wishlist at the top of my webpage, and I think it should be working ok. I am not trying to pimp myself here, honest (although I can be bought. These days all it takes is some Fig Newtons and I'm your girl.)

Posted by: Everydaystranger at 09:25 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
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1 which doesn't explain why I'm drinking cranberry juice and writing this blog post instead of writing my requirements doc Oh, oh, but you know what does explain it? Requirements docs are a total bore. And I don't think you're being pompous in stating that you feel naked without your passport; if I were residing in a country in which I hadn't yet obtained citizenship, I would not only feel naked without my passport, I'd feel as if I were walking around with ARREST ME painted on my back.

Posted by: ilyka at August 02, 2007 09:37 AM (c5ADe)

2 The sad thing is, if you were Muslim or some other minority, you'd probably be granted immediate citizenship. But because you're a Bad White Female, you have to get the government reaming. Imagine if you were a guy. So, when they ask if you if you speak English, tell them "I reckon so" in your most redneck Texas drawl, if you still can. Kinda like that Korean stand up comic that was born in Knoxville, Tenn. Oops, on second thought, you might get deported.

Posted by: diamond dave at August 02, 2007 11:41 AM (ezJky)

3 LOL I had similiar problems with my Dutch application recently - which they ****'ed up anyway. But my application was only 11 pages and I didn't have to send in my passport, just copies of just about every document I could think of. Good luck!

Posted by: Hannah at August 02, 2007 11:58 AM (5w+E2)

4 Reminds me of when my Brazilian wife applied for temporary residence permit here in Denmark. Apart from all the information they wanted from her, I had to fill out a 15-page thing about myself, where among other things I had to document that I speak Danish. They also wanted to know if I had met my wife before, during and/or after our wedding ceremony. But at least we don't pay a fee... My wife was also pretty displeased at having to give up her passport during the processing, in exchange for just a handwritten receipt, and without knowing for how long they'd keep it.

Posted by: Mike at August 02, 2007 02:34 PM (yVrRZ)

5 Gotta love those immigration applications. I still giggle every time I see the terrorism/genocide questions. I felt more at the mercy of the gods when I sent my passport to the DVLA for the provisional license than when I sent it to the Home Office. At least the Home Office has a valid reason for needing it. The DVLA had my passport for 38 days (that whole provisional license process was a nightmare) and couldn't understand why I was upset that they held it for so long and was fighting to get it back.

Posted by: tanis at August 02, 2007 02:49 PM (6cH2N)

6 I love that you are cheap.

Posted by: Teresa at August 02, 2007 03:03 PM (7S0W9)

7 Helen said: "Plus I have to prove that I speak English" This cracked me up! Why don't you just send them the link to your blog?

Posted by: Julie at August 02, 2007 09:48 PM (sXE2K)

8 Yeah, my sis always has a hard time too and she's lived in London for 15 years, was married to a Brit for 6 and sometimes is a high tax-paying member of society. She says trying to get to vote in the US elections, however, is the hardest thing in the world. She has a hard time even though she is a woman (Dave) but Im sure the fact that she is black has nothing to do with it.

Posted by: That Girl at August 03, 2007 04:06 AM (s5Uyz)

9 Julie-if they read how mental I am, they'd never let me stay Tanis-I look at my UK driving license everyday and still-STILL, 6 months later-feel I owe some kind of ritual to some kind of god in thanks for it. Good luck! Mike-you should've said no, you hadn't met before, but when you showed up at the wedding you both promised to be the ones wearing red roses pinned to your collars!

Posted by: Helen at August 03, 2007 08:54 AM (R7xxp)

10 I was wondering how you were on the flood issue, but figured you'd tell us... The passport and visa thing? Seeing as they won't let me out of Iowa, I have no experience. I live vicariously through the internet.

Posted by: sue at August 03, 2007 04:29 PM (WbfZD)

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