I have lived in England for over seven years. This November marks my eighth Thanksgiving amongst the Redcoats and yet still I’m not technically a resident. Since moving here I have had four visas, three of which were work visas, and my current one which is my marriage visa. I have posted off form after form, innumerable types of proof of identity, travelled to cities to prove that I am actually marrying The Native because I love him and not as a as a hot ticket into the UK (oooooor did I? Muwahaha), I have had my biometric data taken so they can stalk identify me easily, and the pinnacle was taking a TEST to get a certificate of approval to go through with the marriage. A TEST! I had to study! That is love, people (or do I just love tests?! Muwahaha). I don’t want to knock the test too much, because clearly, it is really effective in helping to assess whether people can adapt to living here (read: I just re-took it and got a 33%).
And now I am waiting for my last and final visa to be accepted. This visa will mean that a time limit isn’t put on my stay here, but instead I have the right to live here indefinitely, which is good since, you know, my husband and baby are here. And this all for the bargain price of £972 with the added cost of your soul.
So, I continue to wait, and quite impatiently, as I’d really like to make a family trip to The States for Christmas so that I can introduce The Duchess to family and friends she hasn’t met yet, but instead I remain a prisoner of the UK right now while they process my application with the reassuring statistic that they do process 95% of applications within 6 months. At that rate, maybe I’ll see everyone by Easter!
In other news: I’m now on Twitter. If you’re a fellow twit, follow me @expatparent.
I’m blog hopping. So grab a cup of tea, coffee, your favourite cold beverage and have a little look-see through some other blogs to see if any of them tickle your fancy over at