Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Arhaaaah!
I'm IN...I'm IN...I'm IN.
Received approval Tuesday.
yeehaah...gunna be gitting meself some of that thair LittleFatBastid Hillbillie sex soon...uh huh.Labels: Bastid Lawyer/Immigration, Toejam
Posted by apositivepessimist ::
11:24 pm ::
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Tuesday, March 13, 2007
And a good time was had by all.
Sooomewhere ovaaah the raaainbow Sydney Harbour Bridge in a train is where I found myself Monday just gone, at eight-thirty in the morning. What were you slack bastids doing when I was making my way with my trusty mate Sooes acting as prime navigator [she did a simply faaabulous job too!] down to my immigration appointment at the US Consulate? Huh.
Bet yers were all just having blasted fun and frolics weren't yers?!?
So woooo look at me, nearly done with all this fuddycruddy stuff.
Although I must say, this latest "hoop" was the easiest. Nothing really went wrong. Was like I was being "rewarded" for my, my, well my goodness. Arhaaha. Oh lookout. I snorted when I laughed then. But really I was nudged along very nicely. From the bag x-raying security dude at the first checkpoint who noticed I was sitting in the wrong spot "Maam...you can go to the front row of seats, with those three" and then noticed me still sitting in this row when the other three were trotting off leaving the room for the guarded elevator ride up to the next floor "Maam...you can go with those people now".
The lady security guard who along with the male security guard enjoyed my "victory arms" being raised and waved about when I made a success of walking through the metal detector on my third attempt. Bloody belt buckle and my watch. You'd think I'd know to take that stuff off huh. Next time I will write them on my hand under the "remove" heading.
The pretty young clerk at window number 3 [Hawaiian I think] that dealt with my paperwork...which must have been in order as she didn't send me to the back of the line. Bless her...was very bloody nice and helpful. I was so glad my ticket wasn't called by the loud cow at window number 1. She insisted on having her windows loud-speaker turned on.
Everybody could hear yer business being repeated back at you.
Fer instance I now know that ticket holder number eight is a divorcee with a four year old daughter; a girl living in NY and that she'd just flown back to Sydney last night to get this sorted. She was getting slightly stroppy but calmed down a level when loud cow informed her and us that she was there to assist her blah blah. The ticketed number ten's have a daughter whose name is Scarlet. They came in to pick up a "transportation" letter so she could enter the country of her parents birth. They were getting a bit pissy because Mary who had emailed them to do this, couldn't remember emailing them in the first place. No, the ten's didn't have the printed emails on them. And the Hispanic lady at window number 5...[this clerk also made use of his loudspeaker but wasn't nearly as loud as number 1 cow; he had a very nice voice...shame about his face tho]...was deported in 2006. Not sure who did this deportation, if it was us, well we didn't do a very bloody good job of it did we uh...she's still here. Or maybe she snuck back over. Dunno.
The bloke that "interviewed" me was a bloody big spunk. Whoever gave birth to him should be rewarded. Now, whoever you are, can you make me one that's at least 20 years older. Thanks. I was index finger printed and asked a few questions and then I had to hold up my right hand and solemnly swear that all the details provided by me were true and correct. And then sign the document.
Luckily I uncrossed my left fingers before I bought that hand up to hold the paper while I did just that huh.Labels: Bastid Lawyer/Immigration, Missus Clever Troosers
Posted by apositivepessimist ::
6:31 am ::
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Tuesday, February 20, 2007
Can it get any worse?
Why yes, yes of course it can.
One can travel all the way back into Blahyah armed to the friggun teeth with all the documentation required and find they can't take one's bloody fingerprints. Why can't they take one's god fucking dammit finger fucking prints you ask, oh I heard yers ask it! Because they had someone out the back in custody. And apparently, they can not take one law abiding *cough* citizen out there to be fingerprinted [all in the same area] while the holding cell contains one freaked out, violent, crack ho.
I just stared in disbelief at the smiling, over-cheerful midget who was informing me of this.
Can. you. believe. this. SHIT!
Little did the merry midget know, that standing before her was a quickly freaking OUT, possibly violent, occasional pot head with an immigration dead line to meet. For a minute or two, I did *squinty eyed* wonder if I'd flung myself over the counter, grabbed her by the throat and started garrotting her with the string chaining the pen to the counter; if they would indeed change their policy about taking my bloody fingerprints.
She said to come back tomorrow. I explained that I can't keep coming back, that I needed to get this done, what's to say that you don't arrest and have someone else in custody tomorrow by the time I get in here. She just shrugged, explained and apologised, but really what could she do...I understood that shrug.
So what did the The Good Dick and I do?
Why we rang surrounding police stations and asked a) if they had a fingerprint machine and b) if they had someone in custody. Yes and No were the answers at one station about two hours [one way] away. If we wanted to take the chance we were more than welcome to give it a shot. So off we sped, going hell to blazes, except along the one long arsed stretch of dirt road. All the while beseeching Bubbha that the natives were behaving themselves while we travelled there.
My continuous pleasepleasepleasePUULEAAASE worked.
Although, I did have a close call once I was there, with a phone call coming in about a single goat duffing.
I have been FINGERPRINTED PEOPLE! Police headquarters will receive them and my application form by Wednesday. Now I can only hope that it is returned to me the Friday before my Monday immigration appointment. *live in hope...live in hope*
Halle freaakun lujah.
I must say, that’s a trip to be fingerprinted by that machine. A total of 18 prints are taken. Even the sides of your hands called the “writers print” is done. The lovely young senior constable and I were having a good old natter as we waited for the machine to beep and bleeep at the alternate positioning of my fingers, thumbs, palms and writers prints. I got an “A” for my ability to listen and comply with instructions, I would have had an “A+” but one had to be re-taken.
Yes, shut up I realise I was being graded against their usual clientele of drunks, bums and the aggro's.Labels: Bastid Lawyer/Immigration
Posted by apositivepessimist ::
1:37 am ::
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Sunday, February 18, 2007
The Fuck word and I, are well acquainted.
Christ where do I start.
Still trying to get my bloody criminal background check and fingerprints done.
Rang the local police station on Friday trying to catch Matt the local copper rostered on. Phone rang through to Blahyah, I was told he was on his way into there regarding an “incident” and wouldn’t be back in the local station for 3-4 hours, try back then. I did. Every twenty minutes. Never got onto him. Rang the next morning, once again it went through to Blahyah’s station.
“Can you tell me when someone will actually be IN the local station”
“Not til Thursday”
“What! Oh bloody hell!”
“Is something urgent?”
“I’m just trying to get a background check and fingerprints done for immigration”
“Oh you rang yesterday”
“Yes, and the day before that...okay thank you”
So who do you ring when you need a favour, why you ring yer Dad, who happens to be a mate of the other local copper Dieter, who is on annual leave. Find out off him that they can’t do it because apparently up here in the sticks we have gone all high tech and shit, it’s no longer done with ink but by laser or whatever. I’d have to go into, yep you guessed it, Blahyah.
Rang back Blahyah station to find out what I have to do etc. Just come in the cop says and to bring my money with me. The Good Dick drove me in Sunday arvo and that’s when the real fun started. Turns out its no where as simple as stated in my immigration package. And really, why in the fuck would I expect it to be.
For a start, they didn’t really know what to do, understandable as they don’t get many, if ANY criminal checks for immigration. They didn’t even have the form. Apparently I am supposed to get it off the police website and bring it with me, yes, thank you immigration package for telling me this. They have no internet access so it couldn‘t be snagged by them. Luckily one of the coppers used to work in a station where others did do a few of them, so he rang his colleague and she faxed him up the form. Okay so now we are getting somewhere I thought.
I needed so many forms of identification. One had to be a photo id. Whips out my drivers licence. Only problem is my licence is under my married name and all my immigration paperwork is under my maiden name. I don’t know why this is, when I had the LFB query that Lawyer Prick about it, he said it’s just how it’s done. Even tho we are married all the paperwork from the US is done as a fiancée visa...which to me is fucking stupid as it just creates hassles.
They couldn’t accept it as my photo id.
This is where I became a right fucking plonker. My eyes welled up with big fat tears and I felt the sobs start catching in my throat. No amount of trying to blink them back while muttering to myself “oh god, don’t start fucking bawling”, it just made me worse. I ended up going outside to try and compose myself. Yep, due for my period tomorrow. So it was no mean feat.
I have to go back in today to try and get it completed. My window is getting smaller and smaller, everything has to be done before my interview in Sydney and it says to allow three weeks for the crim check to come back. Will take my passport which thankfully is the only “acceptable” photo id I have with my maiden name still on it. Alas the same cops who now have some inkling about what to do won’t be on.
The only highlight of the trip, was one of the assisting cops [I had three of them trying to work out what had to be done] was highly rootable, even if he did make me cry. I was ever thankful he wasn’t one of them “Heroes” or else he’d have heard me lustily think “phwoar, I’d like to break me off a piece of THAT, ouff”.
Wish me luck.Labels: Bastid Lawyer/Immigration
Posted by apositivepessimist ::
10:19 am ::
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Thursday, February 15, 2007
Bugger me the good things just keep on happening!
I knew my decision not to chase and run over that random little prick of a kid with Tha Blue Hornet, would come back to me eventually.
Received my immigration package yesterday.
Sat out on the back step, hands shaking and heart thumping as I ripped it open.
After reading some of the questions that will be asked at the medical, I think I better pack a dainty white glove and practice my haughty “You Sir, are NOT a gentleman!...syphilis, gonorrhea...How DARE YOU”.
I have a choice of three male doctors in Brisbane, oh great, at least I suppose I will be able to say that my snootch will have been poked and prodded by four different men now. One ex, one bloke who did the stitching after child birth, one husband and then this one. I’m still deciding whether I will “tidy” it up for him or just make him fight his way to it and suffer while doing so.
I’m doing my utmost to not think about the possibility of having all my body passages being finger poked by this unknown assailant. I'm flying blind here, so my usual way when faced with uncertainty is to imagine the worst possible scenario and then tudaaah it’s never as bad...Pleasepleaseplease Bubbha let this be true in this case.
Contacted them and made my appointment for next Friday.
Medical=$242.00...X-Rays=$95.00...Blood test=$95.00...possible immunisations = fuck knows.
Rang the local cop shop to see who was on, apparently neither of them were, as my call went through to the station at Blahyah. One is back on deck today at 5pm...I will be there at 5.01pm to fill out a form, be fingerprinted and hand over $175.00 for the honour of doing so. Funny, when I notice that my State has the dearest criminal background checks, in bloody Western Australia it’s only $43.00. Rip off bastids here.
Jeezus Kerrrist, I just noticed that when I’m interviewed at the US Consulate in Sydney it’s $493.00 for that pleasure.
Only til you are on this side of the coin can you kinda understand why people immigrate illegally, to any country.
I wish I had turned that little prick of a kid into a speed bump now.
Here's hoping I'll see him again tomorrow.Labels: Bastid Lawyer/Immigration
Posted by apositivepessimist ::
9:50 am ::
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Friday, February 09, 2007
FOYDC
This will henceforth signify my more sassier posts...still I am not wanting anyone to die exactly. Good god I really did inherit some of my mothers goodness gene. My Bad Granny would be pleased and impressed, if indeed she still had half a clue who I actually was.
A FOYDC is cordially extended to that bastid immigration lawyer.
Yes, him again.
Do NOT be giving the LFB just three phone numbers for immigration approved doctors and tell him to pass them on to me. Makes me a tad pissy thinking I have to travel to fucking Caaanberraaa [about three hours further away than bloody Sydney's nine] when it appears perhaps I may not have to travel to either.
Just shut yer stupid frigging guts, if you are not prepared to give all the information, like other listed US approved doctor numbers. Do NOT give any information at all. Just wait for my "package" that was sent to you by the immigration department to be forwarded to me [should be here by the middle of next week] then, let me read it myself. Might save me from needless planning and despairing you jolly big twat.
It would have also been nice if you had mentioned that a criminal background check can be lodged at ANY Police Station not just supply the phone number for their headquarters in Sydney.
Oh and next time, perhaps you can take more bloody care when filling out my "papers". They were returned to me on Monday because details were not entered by you. Details that I had supplied YOU with, many full bloody moons ago.
Okay, things are looking up, my "interview" with immigration officials is on Monday the 12th of March at 10am. That's as long as that bastid lawyer hasn't fucked up that little piece of passed on info.
You can expect a good swift kick to yer cods if indeed you have.
And it won't be with me fluffy slippered foot neither.
Softcock.Labels: Bastid Lawyer/Immigration, FOYDC
Posted by apositivepessimist ::
8:35 am ::
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Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Nothing makes me more antsy...
than an immigration lawyer that makes a "few" mistakes on your application papers. Twelve, yes twelve errors. Although I do believe he was sucking up to me by having me born in 2005...but imagine the immigration dude's disgust at finding I am a married one year old and has consummated the marriage many times at that. I often wonder if it's his fuck-ups that is prolonging this. Hmmm.
Seems that I have a contender for my relief. The doctors receptionist has expressed interest in the position. Not to me but to the centre's helper, who passed the information along. Could work. Need to think on it a bit more. Now, I know the girl hasn't got the best reputation around town but hell as if I care that she bangs and blows like a dunny door in her personal [well not so personal.heh] life.
My brother has returned from a trip down to the big smoke...and has no doubt returned with some good smoke. I will have to avoid him. Attitude and...bloody hell I can't think of the word I'm looking for, this never happened when I was chouffed up. Attitude and lack of resistance [that'll suffice] being what they are.
So this is Wednesday, done and nearly gone. Yip.Labels: Bastid Lawyer/Immigration
Posted by apositivepessimist ::
1:04 am ::
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