What to get for an expat's birthday

The past month or so was action-packed. 

I was in a car crash, the company I worked for went bankrupt, I got a (very exciting) new job, and I got older. 

I was also originally going to go back to the motherland this month, but decided a short while ago it wouldn't be feasible with everything else going on. 

But even if I can't go back to the UK, I can have the UK sent to me! That's what friends and family will do for an expat's birthday. Here are some goodies that were sent to me by my loved ones…

Remember how I said I wished that The Great British Bake Off would be shown on US television? Well, this book will hopefully improve my terrible baking, plus it's got some of that cheeky innuendo found in the show. I'm still waiting anxiously for the US version, just to see how it'll compare.

And talking of baking: This cute bracelet is a real charm. Not only does the tartan remind me of home, it's made of BISCUIT TINS! It is, in a word, sweet. 

I also promise there will be more biscuits involved in future FOOD FIGHT posts.

This is a paper sheep.

I don't see too many of those any more, which is a shame, because naughty spring lambs springing through fields is a jaunty sight. 

And yes, that's a Marks and Spencer bag at the bottom. What would an expat do without her regular Marks and Sparks care packages? 

And the final thing is a gift from one of my girls, this fabulous Marmite t-shirt. You'll either love it or you'll hate it, and you can't get much more patriotic than a British condiment that makes Americans physically recoil.

All in all, I'm very grateful for my UK themed birthday pieces!

Note: I don't do affiliate advertising, so all of this stuff was really sent to me by friends and family, and I'm just showing it off because it's oh-so-British and I love it.

If you have popped over from Betsy's blog: Hello! I hope you stick around. Sit down, I'll make you a cup of tea. Tell me all about yourself. Do you like Marmite, or do you prefer PBJ?

If you haven't popped over from Betsy's blog, then I have a guest post over there all about emigrating from the land of Marmite to the land of PBJ. You should pop over and have a looksie.

How to survive a Long Distance Relationship, Really (Part Two)

Something got lost in translation here, which made it all the more amusing.

Welcome to Part Two of the definitive guide to surviving a long distance relationship! 

(For part one head here) 

 Romance

In my experience, people who are not in LDRs think that LDRs are tough but "incredibly romantic". They are not romantic. Nothing about lagging Skype chats, jet-lag, expensive flights and bureaucratic visa processing is at all romantic.

Plenty of articles on long distance relationships impart the importance of maintaining romance. Cosmo has its own unique take on this, but typical recommendations are to send each other stuff, make 'love compilations' of favorite songs, send each other surprises and make memory books/photo collages.

Interestingly, Glamour takes a different position. This article says Don’t get bogged down with stereotypical “romantic” stuff. 

I'm going to take the rather unromantic middle position: To each their own. Just do what you can. 

Tell your partner you love them, tell them as often as you can, but don't sweat about how you do that. I will give a plus to memory books/photo collages though,  because they can help with visa applications (I'm such a romantic).

Several times during our long distance stint, Mark called our wedding florist, whose shop was down the road from my office, and had them deliver roses to me at work. What a classically beautiful overblown gesture! Word even got to husbands of my colleagues, who started doing the same thing, so we all got flowers on Valentine's day.

The only trouble was, I had to carry them to the bus stop and on the bus journey home.

And I felt I couldn't compete. I did send the occasional postcard when I went somewhere for work. But for every postcard I sent I had one that I forgot to send. I sent candy once for Valentine's day and the postage cost more than the candy itself. And that's not even to mention the stuff we sent that didn't arrive, or the times I forgot how long postage takes and cards arrived late.

It was never personal. I send late cards to everyone. Once I sent my sister a birthday card about six months late. But in a long distance relationship it's the communication that counts. An email or text saying "I'm proud of you" or "I'm thinking of you" says just as much as a romantic gesture.

Take photos of the glamorous times, but savor those PJ days

Visits

And the same holds for when you actually get to see each other. As that Glamour article says, don't worry too much when you see each other. Just act like a normal couple. Normal couples lounge around in PJs and watch terrible TV and order in pizza. And I missed being able to do that way more than I missed formal dates and romantic nights out.

There were trips to NY and DC and London and Glasgow and Edinburgh too. But visits are mostly times to catch up on all the nothing you haven't been able to do. Bliss.

And a lot of other articles agree: Don't plan too much activity for your visits.

The frequency and length of a visit depends on your own circumstances (and finances) and you'll find your preferences.  The 'rule' of alternating visits only applies when you can easily work around employment, or when you don't have a visa pending (more on that here).

Mark and I were both working. That meant we could save for plane tickets, but it almost meant that we had to book time from our respective employers. My UK employer was far more generous with (paid) time off than his US employer, but we worked around that.

We went six months without seeing each other on a few occasions, but we found that intervals of three months were the easiest to cope with. Three months is only 12 weeks, which is only really 12 empty weekends to fill alone.

The last time we saw each other before I moved over to the USA was last Christmas 2011. Before that was our wedding, in May/June 2011.

We only had a short time booked with each other over the Christmas period. While the airport goodbyes never got any easier, that was by far the worst one because it just felt like we hadn't had enough time together. Luckily, Mark's visit was unexpectedly extended. Without that time I would have been a mess.

Fights/arguments/shifts

Sometimes the times you miss each other most are the times you'll fight the most. All that emotion, all that miscommunication, all that loneliness, manifesting as:

Nit-picking: "you didn't call at the exact time you said you would"
Needless antagonism: "When we are together we'll only have whole milk in the fridge and not semi-skimmed"
Pettiness: "You spelled a word wrong on Skype"
Childishness: "Don't you DARE slam your laptop screen down on me - damnit!"
Competitiveness: "I can't win this argument even though I'm right and you know I am"

Yes, they are inevitable. Distance or no distance. But with the distance working against you, it can feel like your whole world is crashing down.

It's like being a toddler and being told you're overtired. You can insist that you're right and it's because of THE ISSUES and not because you just miss each other.

It's because of frustration. It's because you miss each other. It's because you can't just hug each other and say it's ok. It's because you miss each other. It's because it's 3am and you've been emailing each other insults for five hours and you both need the last word. It's because you miss each other. It's because you really, really want that shade of dark blue that almost looks black but isn't black on your wedding invitations, and you're not going to budge. It's because you miss each other.

Once Mark phoned me just to say "can we not argue over the phone anymore?" to which I had to reply "but then where will we do our arguing?"

All he could say in response was "touché, okay, we can argue over the phone".

So here are some tips not mentioned in any other articles I read:

Warning signs for pending transatlantic arguments

You haven't seen each other in a while and you're reaching withdrawal breaking point: It's useful to book your next visit ASAP after your last one (or before it's over) so you always have something to look forward to. It doesn't solve the issue or the argument, but it's a small comfort.

One of you wants to talk but the other one is tired and grumpy: Be really mindful of timezones and bodyclocks, whether grumpiness before dinner, or tiredness before bed. Sometimes we compromised with text chats and the promise of a proper conversation at the weekend.

Skype isn't working/Phone signal is dodgy:  I hated Skype when my husband looked and sounded like a robot. I'd say "forget it" and hang up. I'd rather no communication than bad signal. General frustration can come out as anger at each other, especially when you have limited time to chat.

One of you makes all the phone calls/one of you doesn't reply: I have to confess that I was the rubbish one here. It was not deliberate, but it was unintentionally hurtful. We eventually found a habitual groove that worked for us. Mark still made all the phone calls, but I emailed him to let him know he was in my thoughts, and to let him know a good time to call.

You have a wedding coming up: Having spoken to non-long-distance couples, I think it is normal to act like two toddlers pressing each other's buttons in the lead-up to a wedding. God made wedding planning stressful just to really test your commitment (ditto visa applications).

There's a shift: By shift I mean anything, really: One of you gets a different job; one of you moves to another place; or you get engaged; or you get married; or it's getting close to the end of your long-distance stint. Anything that changes the balance of the LDR somehow.

After we got married I found the last year of our LDR easier to deal with because our relationship was cemented, and the visa process was just jumping through hoops. On the other hand, Mark found it much harder because we were married and couldn't be together. If you're experiencing things in different ways, try to be open and open-minded.

Some advantages of being long-distance 

After we got married I used to joke that being long-distance was the perfect marriage. It was just a joke, but there are advantages to be made of what is generally a rubbish situation.

Talking and planning: Without the physical contact and the ability to spend time doing nothing, and the fear of lulls in vital phone/Skype call times, it can be best just to keep on talking. About anything.

We planned our wedding and our visas. Then we talked about who would do what household chore. We talked about our dream home. We talked about fears. We talked about our preferences for whole milk or semi-skimmed milk. Anything, just to keep the conversation flowing.

I think this can give a real edge over non-long-distance couples who have to learn the hard way about household chores and milk preferences and the kind of marriage they want to have. When I arrived in the USA there was a (fresh) carton of organic 2% milk sitting in the fridge waiting for me. That was definitely worth the three years of separation (kind of).

Learning how to argue: For all that it's horrible at the time, you can learn how to debate each other and to nip an argument in the bud before it degenerates. Tip: It's not about winning.

Growing as an individual: I got a whole year of getting used to being a married woman before I spent any significant time with my husband. This is a double-edged sword, which I'll mention later one day, but it allowed me to do things and live life in a way I wanted while preparing life together with my husband. I don't recommend it, but it wasn't all bad. I swear!

Overall, just remember this

- Communication is key: Manage expectations of your LDR.
- Communicating about communicating is key. Let your other half know what you're up to and when you can talk. And then tell them you love them and you're proud of them.
- Find good communication habits/a groove.
- Communicating with friends and family is key. Don't sit and wait.
- Romance might be important, but communication is more important.
- Sitting in your Pjs for a week together is totally okay.
- Arguments are normal, but stop being a toddler, take a step back, say sorry, and start again.
- Don't bring up issues just before one of you has to go to bed. Wait until the weekend or something.

You'll get there. And trust me, the conversations that start with "remember when we were long-distance, and…" feel AMAZING.

How to survive a Long Distance Relationship, Really (Part One)

This is the definitive guide to surviving a long distance relationship! (Part one) 
(Part Two is here)

By long-distance, I don't mean a cross country sleeper train, that's a whole other survival guide

How can I say that?

Firstly, I did 1018 days of "method research". Mr and I were long-distance for almost three years, and while we probably did everything wrong, we also did everything right.

Second, I've scoured the web for guides to survive long distance relationships, teased out the common themes, and tested the advice against real life. This is an amalgamation of everything I read on the subject, peppered with my own insights. Maybe you already read other articles before you read this. If so, great. 

I've taken out the fluff and the guff: So many articles on going the long-distance start with how hard it is and how it's not for the faint of heart. Anyone who's about to, is, or has been involved in an LDR doesn't need to be told that. That's why I'm writing this now, and not a year ago. Also, it's not that rare. A lot of couples do the distance thing at one point in their lives, and I'm not even referring to military couples, who I believe are much, much braver.

I've taken out the condescending advice: I know you know how to use Skype, how to post a letter, and how to make a phone call. I don't need to suggest you might even want to email your loved one on a regular basis. I do recommend a smart phone, but you don't need the latest model. Text apps that work over data networks are useful, but email does the same job, and often better.

I've also taken out any advice about trust. In my experience that was never a question or an issue. If you are struggling with trust, jealousy, or commitment in a long-distance relationship, there is support available elsewhere. Most of these feelings can be covered in relation to communication and how to deal with arguments. Yes, arguments!

So I'm also a little bit realistic. Much of life ends up being about muddling through rather than creating concrete plans and schedules. Love is no exception. Like I said, we probably did it all totally wrong but we got there, it's over, and it's great.

I missed these moments the most

About Us (in case you didn't know)
 
We met at grad school in Glasgow, Scotland. After we handed in our dissertations we both moved back to our respective parents' homes. I headed to the East Coast of Scotland, and he went back to Pennsylvania.

Before he left we booked flights for me to visit at Christmas.

We had no plans, or so I thought (he already knew he wanted to marry me).

After he proposed at Christmas, I came back home and felt like the most ungrateful, miserable (and lonely) fiancee.

We got planning straight away: No plans on how to manage our LDR, but planning our wedding, marriage, visas, and future life together. The rest is history!

We were transatlantic, 3000 miles apart, and he was five hours behind. But we managed. So here goes…

The (definitive, kinda) guide to surviving a long distance relationship.

The Nuts and Bolts: Planning and managing expectations

This is where most guides to LDRs agree: You gotta have a plan.

For the first three months of our transatlanticism I had no expectations about where we'd end up. I'm not sure I really thought about it. And that made it worse. Mark recalls days when I refused to answer his Skype calls because I missed him too much to be able to speak to him. After we got engaged and agreed to a long engagement, we were able to plan our visits and our future lives more effectively. Skype chats could be less about missing each other and more about looking forward to being with each other.

You don't need to get engaged, but I'd recommend knowing where the two of you are going together, or otherwise.

Then: Agree a (target) end date

It's much easier to manage when you know when the distance will end, and when your milestones are. You can count back and arrange visits and chop up the time into manageable chunks. Mark and I were apart for almost three years. That's most of our relationship. But in my head it was just several blocks of 3-6 months.

For us, the target dates were intuitive:

1. Wedding day, and
2. My arrival in the USA.

The latter date was fluid but we knew it'd be a year, more or less, from our wedding date. Although our lives were in the hands of the US Government, the visa process was straightforward and predictable. We could then start to manage our expectations of our reunion, and our marriage, which was just as important as managing the expectations of our time apart.

Also: Start saving up money!

LDRs are inherently expensive, whether it's visits, calling cards, weddings or visas. Or a combination thereof. Make sure you've got a plan to finance it - together. Some of your overseas conversations may be boring, talking about the nuts and bolts. But it really helps.

Goofy Skype chat, and a picture email: "I'm at the airport!"

Communication and Skype Dates

With timezones and transatlantic communication to navigate, many articles recommend scheduling regular communication time and arranging 'dates'. Let me confess:

I am notoriously bad at keeping to pre-arranged Skype dates and schedules. I still am.

But we figured out a groove for remaining in contact. It wasn't pre-arranged, it just happened organically. An average day went like this:

Morning GMT: On the bus to work I checked my email, often a lovely 'good morning' message Mark had sent the night before with a run down of what he watched on the news chatter, so I could listen to a podcast and catch up, and read the morning news on Twitter.

Lunchtime GMT: On my lunch break, I knew Mark was getting up and ready for the day, so I'd email him the most interesting articles from my bus journey. If I wasn't too busy he'd phone just to say hi.

5-6pm GMT: I'd be on my way home, and if Mark wasn't too busy he'd give me a call to tell him about my morning, and I'd talk about my day.

8-11pm GMT: If I wasn't out, busy, or too tired, and if Mark could snatch some time early, we'd chat on Skype. Almost every day. And if we couldn't, we'd let each other know. An email: "I'm at an event tonight, so I might not be able to chat",
or "I need a bath. I smell. Later ok?", or
"did you get my Facebook message about the voicemail about the Skype message you sent when I tried to call?" or:

Him: Why aren't you answering your phone?!
Me: It's upstairs on silent. I was writing you an email.

Yeah, it wasn't perfect. Wires got crossed many times. If I wanted to watch TV with my family, we'd type to each other instead. If one of us was busy, we'd wait. I often got tempted to stay up super-late just so I could get a meaningful conversation. I sleep so much better now that I'm in the same timezone as my husband.

Dates, such as simultaneous cooking dates, or movie dates, never worked for us. I didn't want to pretend I was with my partner when I really wasn't. But there were times for planning (wedding, visas, trips and visits), times for mindless chatter, times for helping each other with job applications, times for speaking to the whole family, or watching each other open birthday presents, times for political discussions and rants. Times for arguments, which I'll cover later.

Being yourself and living your own life

And there were times for ourselves.

Articles about LDRs all agree that you need to take time to grow as an individual, to have a social life, to stop focusing on how much you miss your partner and get out living. Basically, don't be a hermit.

It's all true, but I'm going to be realistic. Yes, couples who live together have their own interests. But doing it as one half of a transatlantic couple is something else. You want to share experience with your partner, you don't want to miss out on what they're doing, you feel guilty if you're having fun and you know your partner isn't. Maybe you feel more alone when you're out with other people.

On the other hand, it's not hard to get out and about, especially when you have friends who want to see you (and whom you want to see), when getting out and doing stuff is fun. When you don't miss doing things with you partner. You miss doing nothing with your partner.

So in these cases, I think you can be picky about the things you do and don't do. Examples:

Things I did:
- Got into photography, which is a skill I could work at alone. And I could share my work with my husband.
- Visited friends for tea, dinner, drinks. Spent the weekend with them. And called Mark at intervals. Let friends say hi to him.
- Traveled for work, a lot. It kept me busy, sometimes took me out of phone signal range, let me see the country (which I still want to share with Mark one day). And it helped out the organization - I had no kids, and no husband to get back to as our relationship was already phone-based. So it worked.
- Applied for, and was accepted to the International TV Festival Network, and then did an internship with the BBC. Because I wanted to, because I could, and because I had the freedom to.
- Attended weddings and other important events.

Things I didn't do:
- Go out with single friends exclusively, or go out on nights with couples. My girlfriends were brilliant for arranging girls' nights.
- Join a club or do a random activity like ballroom dancing.
- Go on holiday without Mark.
- Watch certain movies.

I made sure to do one thing every weekend. Just one thing. Whether it was meeting a friend or taking photos of flowers. Similarly, Mark got involved with civic/political activities here and since I've moved I've joined in. He baked and did martial arts and traveled for work.

When we were busy, we'd let each other know. We'd support each other in our endeavors as best as we could.

Since we've been together we've done our rustic weekends - those little things we didn't want to do alone. Those things we said we couldn't wait to do together, but we did wait, and it didn't do any damage. Promise.

In Part Two, I cover romance, visits, fights and shifts. And the advantages of a long distance relationship!

I'll also tidy this up a bit too. I promise. Please let me know what you think, what makes sense, what doesn't, and what else do I need to cover?

Not a walk in the park

I've been asked a few times about what has the most surprising thing about moving to the USA.

Believe it or not, it's the culture shock.

I think there's an assumption that US and UK culture is very similar, especially between people of similar races/heritages. Mark has an anglo-saxon heritage; his ancestors were English/Scottish and Irish. But quite often we find that we are just not speaking the same language. It can be shocking and confusing for both of us, and little things crop up all the time when we least expect them.

One time during our stint as a transatlantic couple I had to sign off Skype because I had to go and make tea. Two hours later Mark was annoyed that I hadn't returned, thinking that making tea should only take five minutes. I was referring to "tea" the evening meal, not "tea" the hot drink, and it took at long while for me to convince him that the word is interchangeable!

So despite the number of times I have been to the US, and the cumulative amount of time I have spent here, it has been incredibly hard to adjust. One of the hardest things is not knowing how "settled in" I should be by now, and it's even harder to accept that there are no rules on this. Not having my SSC or driving permit has meant that I've been entirely dependent on my husband in many ways, and at first I allowed that to knock my confidence.

Immigration, and especially family immigration, is not just about bureaucracy and paperwork. Visajourney has been useful for me, once again, to realize that the whole cultural process takes a long time, and longer than you'd imagine.  I read one thread, where a stranger summed it up bluntly but accurately:

They give up everything to be here. Their jobs, family, the land they know and understand, their life style, I mean really it's darn near everything. Then they get here and what do they find? They don't know how to get around, they don't know where they are, they can't work, when they can they're starting off below where they were before. Their comfort foods are all gone. Their friends are too far away. Everyone is a stranger, even you as their spouse suddenly is different because now you're living together and they see all sides of you. They are totally dependent on one person, and yes, it's easy for them resent that.

So this has been the most surprising thing so far. I know it seems daft that I'm surprised that emigration/immigration isn't easy. But I'm getting there; I've a routine now which involves going to the gym three times a week, and spending time cooking with Mark, and constantly applying for work and volunteer opportunities.

The great, great news is that I now have my Green Card, my new Social card and my driving permit! If you've never seen a Green Card before, check it out, it's very cool. I've got teeny tiny pictures of all the US Presidents and all the state flags crammed onto a plastic green (yes!) card, along with all my personal info.

It hasn't all been apple pie and walks in the park since I got here… although that's certainly been a part of it.

Mark's apple pie. It was delicious.

anti-social security

On my first full day in the States, we picked up this from the DMV:

I read it over the weekend, and then we popped back down to the DMV (Mark drove, obviously) and I presented my documents to the brow-beaten employee. As I'd literally just arrived and had little in the way of proof of residence, I also presented my husband and two proofs of his residence. Honestly, it was on the list of acceptable documents: spouse and two proofs of address.

The poor DMV employee, sitting in a fluoro-lit windowless building on a heady summer's day, sighed. He knew my case was not going to be straightforward. It should have been. I passed the theory test with full marks - so much easier than the UK equivalent and none of that hazard perception nonsense either. The employee checked out my visa, passport, spouse, his driving license, and his two proofs of address: All A-OK. The problem, however, was my social security card.

Social security numbers, invented by FDR in 1935 as part of his New Deal, are akin to UK National Insurance numbers (Bonus Fact: UK National Insurance was invented in 1911). The point, originally, was to provide welfare/insurance/benefits/pension to citizens suffering from poverty as a result of the Great Depression (1929, but you knew that).

FDR also allowed for SSNs to be used as 'governmental identifiers' of individuals, although this didn't become widespread until later in the 20th century. You can read all about this here if you're that interested.

The DMV requires presentation of a valid SSC as proof of identity. I actually have a valid SSC, but the problem is that it's in my maiden name. Even presentation of my passport, marriage certificate, spouse, his driving license and two proofs of his address wasn't going to be enough to get my PA driving permit. And we thought we'd gotten good at bureaucracy!

We boldly drove (well Mark did) across the county to the Social Security Administration. Another windowless building, where George Takei advertizes managing your benefits on a giant TV screen on a loop. Hilarious the first time, unsettling after a while. An employee helped me fill out an application for an updated card, but warned me it'd take a month to arrive. It only took 10 days to get my original card back in 2006, so I thought this was an exaggeration. It's not.

So I'm stuck in rural America without wheels.

Jack Kerouac wrote "On the Road" and not "On the Sidewalk"

The USA is designed for cars. In the 1950s shops even built parking lots over sidewalks/footpaths as inter-state highways cemented (sorry) the car as the leading form of US transport. The drive-thru boomed, not only in fast food, but also in coffee, banking, and postal services. I had hoped to hit the USA running, jumping and driving so I could start to build my new life here the moment I arrived. To be honest, this paper delay took the wind out of my sails a bit.

I do understand why I'm waiting. Identification fraud is a real concern. Journalist Jose Antonio Vargas found out he was an illegal immigrant when he went to the DMV to get his permit; it all rested on his SSC. There's also a slightly hilarious case where one poor secretary had her SSN wrongfully used by 40,000 other people. Meanwhile, Mark's happy to drive me to the local YMCA where I can run and jump for free, but the driving is a no-no until I get my new card and I can once again prove I'm me.

An Official Welcome

I just received a letter from USCIS. This is what it says:

 

It means that my Green Card is hopefully on its way!

But wait a minute, what? No, I don't have a Green Card.

I'm currently in the USA on a one year immigrant visa. When my Green Card arrives I can stay until 2014. By then, I will have to go through the process of removing conditions on my immigration status, and then I will receive a 10 year Green Card. 

And what are those conditions?

As we have only been married for a year, my immigration status is conditional on living "in marital union" with my husband, so in two years we will have to submit evidence of this (as well as more money, I might add). 

The letter came from Texas, and it also stated that my well-travelled life package, the one we submitted a year ago and that I brought over in the mystery brown envelope to be surrendered at the airport, had been send to the Texas Service Center. I swear these bits of paper are more worldly than me now.

Coming to America: my point of entry

It'd been a series of weeks that were rich with emotion.

I'd been in London (again) to work on another TV show, and during that time I had a pricey medical, gotten approved for my visa, been told by folks in TV that if I wasn't leaving they'd go out of their way to get me into the industry proper, said goodbye to my grandparents, said goodbye my dad and his family, packed up my things, sent boxes for shipping, visited many friends, been in a movie, and almost thought my cat was going to die (it turned out she had a blade of grass stuck up her nose for a week. No, really. I had to pull it out).

Then I had to say goodbye to my mum and get on a plane.

And not only that, but when I got to the departure gate I realized I was dressed like a hipster. That's probably not a surprise to most of my friends, but I swear it's not deliberate. Do accidental hipsters exist?

To make things worse, those tights are actually blue.

I was feeling pretty emotional for the whole seven hours of the flight: Good, bad, nostalgic, excited, petrified, eager to see my husband, sad to leave the Old World, desperately sad about saying goodbye to my mum.

When we landed, I headed to the US citizen/Permanent Resident queue for the first time. They escorted me and my mystery brown envelope (MBE) to a windowless room where I could listen to other people talking in 'interrogation rooms'. 

They took my passport and the MBE and I sat and waited.

It was a fairly casual and open set-up. A Lithuanian guy was told off for not previously declaring that he'd been arrested for committing a crime of moral turpitude. A German soapstar was queried about her travel intentions, and an older lady came to collect her passport (I think she'd left it in a bar). I thought I heard the staff refer to me as 'the immigrant lady'.

And I waited.

After an hour or so, someone at the front desk called my name, took a fingerprint and asked for my signature. I said "is that it?"

"Yes, that's it ma'am!"

And that was it. I was free to find my baggage and my husband (and that too, was rich with emotion).

I'm just an Old World girl about to hit the New World…

That's a Met Office T-shirt, by the way.

Paper Anniversary

It's our first anniversary!

First anniversary is paper, and that's exactly what we received. The MBE (mystery brown envelope) arrived in the morning.

As you can see they really don't want anything to happen to it. I'd be tempted to see what's inside if I didn't already know. It's our well-travelled bundle of paperwork: Scotland, Chicago, California, New Hampshire, London, Scotland…and eventually PA.

Interview at the Embassy

I was a bit casual about turning up and getting my visa interview at the embassy done. We'd frontloaded our application and been meticulous about sending originals and two copies of each document to the NVC. I've been to the US embassy before for a visa. I kept thinking 'it's just a formality'.

Then, the night before, I got worried that I would need to take copies of everything with me, or that they would point out some anomaly in the paperwork. I was staying with my gran just outside of London so I could hop on the train into the city about 6am and get there on time. I barely slept.

Appointment at 8am, I reached Bond St underground at 7:59am. I wandered down to the embassy a little late and saw a sizeable but quick-moving queue (I knew this was okay because appointment times aren't really exact, they're just staggered entry times for visa applicants). I showed my appointment letter and passport, confirmed I had no electricals on me, and was in by 8:30am. There were plenty of people who ignored or didn't know about the no electricals rule. They were directed to the pharmacy round the corner that does a nice side business in storing mobile phones for three quid a go. I heard some folks whingeing "would be handy if they told us this before we turned up" - hmm, they really do! 

Got my I-number (that's "i" for "immigrant), went to the 1970s airport style waiting room (the pictures on the wall are comedy) and got some passport photos from the booth. My appointment letter said they had them already but, well I was worried and didn't want to leave anything to chance. I didn't need to bother.

I was called to a window and a woman brought out my file. There was all of our paperwork. Everything we'd submitted since last June, in order, with notations at each question. Just how many people have read those forms in the past year? How long did they sit untouched? It was kind of funny to see our well-travelled papers again.

I waited for ages to be called again, and while I was far more relaxed, I couldn't concentrate on reading or knitting. I just sat and relaxed a bit while watching all the N-numbers and the odd Is, Es and Ds get called (I guess D is diplomatic, but E?). I watched the people attached to the numbers and tried to guess the stories that their own paper bundles would tell. Non-immigrants had blue pieces of paper, immigrants had pink. A well-dressed man with his partner looked like the kind to get a diplomatic passport (jealous!). A family with a small child. Plenty of young adults probably heading to Camp America this summer.

Eventually I was called back up to see a friendly guy. He asked a few questions, including "why the USA and not the UK?" and "when is your anniversary?" - it's next week. And no, we don't get to spend it together.

After only a couple of minutes, he said "I have no problem approving this visa."

I was out by about 10:40am.

I did get shouted at as I was leaving the Embassy because I was wandering along looking at the flags (there are fifty state flags and I was looking for my future home state!) and got told to turn back to the exit! Oops. 

I grabbed an iced coffee and headed back to my gran's. The whole thing was entirely anti-climatic.

Visa Medical

"I just paid £300 to have a woman stab me with needles and look at my boobs. I reckon it would have been cheaper to go to Soho."*

A couple of weeks ago I got an email from another TV company offering me more work back down in London. Again, I've loved the challenge, and it's also given me the opportunity to spend extra weekends with my grandparents and other family members down here.

Yesterday I had my visa medical. This is a necessity that I had planned to do ages ago, but ended up leaving until the last minute. There's only one medical practice in the UK that can carry these out and it's in central London. They make sure you're up to date with certain vaccinations (and dole them out at a price if not), take a chest X-Ray, and perform various other tests. This included checking out my boobs "for signs of surgery".

The ordeal only took  45 minutes, but I realized that it serves an important function in the whole vetting process, beyond ensuring that I'm not contagious with TB or Varicella (that's chickenpox to you and me!).

45 minutes is the longest time any 'official' will spend with me during the visa journey. Their forms include questions asking if I look well-fed and honest, and they asked me seemingly unrelated questions that I've already answered on paper, like had I ever been arrested in another country? They also asked about the choice we had made about moving to the US.

As the lady stuck a needle into my arm and I nearly fainted, she joked, "You know it'd be easier if he came here right?" I had to laugh and agree with her. Mr and I both knew that, but we also made a firm decision to try life out in the USA.

Next week is my embassy appointment, and I already know to expect it to be a lot less invasive than the medical.


*Joke kind of stolen from a friend of mine.

Consulation

I was sitting in the BBC bar chatting to the production team tonight after working on the live show when something exciting happened.

I've had a blast working down here. From the moment I stepped into Television Centre, I thought "I belong here!". It reminded me of my days as a theatre brat. TVC in itself is an amazing building steeped in history. I hear the BBC is selling it off in a few years, so it's been a real honour to get the chance to be a part of its history.

So I was talking to some of the interns and they are all interested in my situation. One of them asked when I was heading to the New World, to which I said "I don't know exactly, I don't have my visa interview yet. Once I get the date I'll have a firmer idea of when I'm going."

People ask us this question a lot and it's hard to answer because I've been living week to week recently. I deliberately left my previous job early so I didn't have to keep them hanging on while I'm hanging on. The next stage could happen very fast, when it happens.

During our conversation, someone poured me a glass of wine and I checked my emails on my phone. And there it was. A letter from the National Visa Center with a date for US embassy interview.

"Hey, can you repeat your question to me?"

"When are you moving to the States?"

I showed them my phone. "It looks like I'm moving in June!"

A small leap: Visa application is in!

It's official - my visa application is in!

This stage of the process splits in two, where my job is to apply for the visa, and Mr's job is to provide his financial information. At this stage, the visa application is just like a standard application - I have to provide a ton of personal information (most of which they have already) about my past, my residences, my jobs, and my family. Mr's paperwork is a little more interesting because it requires him to accept total financial responsibility for me.

As a married couple, we didn't see this as such a big deal, but it is an incredibly important element of the immigration process. No country wants a new immigrant to become a financial burden on the state, so it becomes the petitioner's responsibility to ensure that doesn't happen. Not only does Mr have to prove he has enough money to sustain us both, but he also has to agree that if I ever did access any state aid, he would be required to pay it back. This means it'd be useless for me to try to access welfare or any other kind of benefit.

The financial requirements for a family migrant petition is proof of income/savings 125% above the US poverty guidelines. It's not a huge burden, but it can also be topped up by using co-sponsors, such as family members who sign the same forms accepting financial responsibility for the immigrant.

In this way, the state is placing trust in the petitioner and their family with regards to the character and potential financial burden of an immigrant family member. As I said, no country wants or needs new dependents, but I also believe it's because it's assumed that the petitioner is the best judge of character of the immigrant, and therefore the best judge of whether the immigrant's intent is good and true. The petitioner takes all responsibility for the immigrant and is therefore first line in defence of any potential fraud. Of course, no immigration officer spends as much time with a potential immigrant as the petitioner, so it makes sense.

Despite having already made our marriage vows promising to share our worldly goods, I did ask Mr to make sure he was absolutely sure he wanted to be financially responsible for me!

In other news, I've handed in my notice at work. I'll be sad to leave such a great position at a great organisation, but in other other news, I've also secured a month's placement in London with the BBC straight after I leave. The past few months I've had quite a few offers of placements at the BBC and was unable to take them up. I'm excited to be taking time to get some extra TV production experience after attending the TV festival, and before I head to the USA.

Early Christmas present

Our immigration story arrived in New Hampshire from California. New Hampshire seems like a much more festive place to be over Christmas than sunny CA, and that's where our life story will be for a wee while yet.

Just as our last update was in time for Thanksgiving, this was a nice treat to hear the night before Christmas, although it does mean we received a bill to pay. It's a Christmas gift with strings attached!

Mr is over here in Scotland, which means Queen's Speech Bingo of course, along with his new favourite seasonal delicacy:

"What are these delicious things?"

"That's a sausage, wrapped in bacon."

"Two kinds of meat? That is amazing! Wait, what's that on the turkey?"

"That's a turkey, with bacon on top."

"WOW!"

Who'd have thunk it, but every day is a whole new cultural experience with us.

It's been six months since we got to spend any time together, and that was for our wedding and honeymoon. We've had a tough year (although getting married was a highlight!) topped off most recently by me having my wallet stolen last week. That was a small inconvenience in comparison, but a total pain just before Christmas. We're taking it easy over the holidays, heading down to London by train to see family, and catching a sleeper train back for a super-quiet new year in my little Scottish hamlet. We're not entirely sure yet, but this could be the last time we spend together for another six months, and by then I could be over there and our visa journey will be over (sort of).

CaliforNOA! First stage of visa journey over.

Almost five months to the date from our application we finally had our visa petition approved! That's great, because their time limit is five months, and it's Thanksgiving tomorrow.

From what I know, Thanksgiving doesn't involve presents (just pumpkin) but this is a pretty sweet gift nonetheless. It's almost as sweet as sweet potatoes and marshmallows, which I hear is a 'thing'. At any rate, I'll give thanks for bureaucratic processes with truthful timelines.

So what happens now? California sends all our papers to New Hampshire, and then they send us a bill for more money. Soon after that I can actually apply for the visa itself. There's still a lot to do, but we've just about reached the halfway mark.

I do believe they send actual, physical paper to the other side of the country, rather than doing the processing electronically. I must admit this does fascinate me a little bit. I've been reading The Pale King, an unfinished work by American author David Foster Wallace. I'm only a little way through and it's fairly heavy-going but the book is essentially about bureaucracy: It's about IRS agents and the paperwork they deal with, and the boredom they deal with while dealing with the paperwork.

While my entire future family life is in the hands of some office workers, these office workers see the same old forms every single day from thousands of people like me. One day to them, or even just the five minutes it takes to review my case, is the difference of a lifetime to me, and it makes me wonder when I'll see that paperwork again.

I guess we just have to wait. Again.

Visa Vis

There are two assumptions that people often make about our situation:

1. Immigrating to the USA only takes a few months, and;
2. My husband and I get to see each other on a regular basis.

Unfortunately neither are true.

First of all, as I've already explained, the spouse immigration visa is a two step process. Before I can apply for a visa, Mr has to petition for me to be able to apply for it. Realistically the whole process takes 10-12 months. But we both make the situation work, and usually approach the visa process with a calm zen-like patience and 'vis'. It helps that we are fully aware of the process and all its minutiae: I have read stories from couples who have submitted forms with no supporting evidence, only to find out eventually that their application has been denied and they have wasted $420 and several months of separation. I have also read stories of those who have started the petition process with no idea of how the rest of it works, or indeed how long it takes. Before Mr and I planned our wedding in any detail we made a sincere decision about the way we'd go about it. You need to read the recipe before you attempt to bake a cake.

Mr's original preference was to apply for the fiance(e) visa, because it would have united us sooner rather the spouse visa would, which has us endure most of the long data-less wait individually. The fiance(e) visa involves a similar process to ours, although I think it can take longer because couples are not married when they begin the petition. Once the visa is approved, and the 'alien' arrives in the USA, the couple must marry within the USA and within a certain time limit, and then let the government know so that residency status can be affirmed. Many couples opt for this because it means that they can start their married lives together straight away. It was my decision not to.

Instead we got married and then applied for the spouse visa. The plus points are that my grandparents and the rest of my family could attend our wedding, we have split the cost of the wedding and visa to allow us to save up for both, and I can save up for my first few months of life in the USA. I will also be eligible to work from the moment I arrive on US soil (as a fiancee I would not have been).

But it does mean that we remain separated during the first year of our marriage, and by the time we will be living together again we will have been apart for almost three years (writing and realising this does make me rue my decision a little). And after all that we definitely plan to throw a super-fantastic BBQ/anniversary/homecoming party once I arrive in the USA. Two parties are always better than one, and especially when they involve a well-baked cake!

Secondly, while we have been apart we have managed to see each other about three times a year. Going on a date costs £400 in air-fares at present, not to mention 7-21 days of annual leave each time, so we are limited by both time and money. But we make it count - we've been to DC, NY, Malta, dancing lessons, jeep riding, swimming in blue lagoons, visiting deco hotels and local bars all over the world for pub fare and varying quality of service, and of course many trips to airport hotels, trysts in airport arrivals (and teary goodbyes in airport departures).

People often remark how romantic it sounds, but after 14 hours of travelling through grey terminal buildings and sitting jammed in coach for a sleepless nine hour flight and being questioned by a skeptical immigration officer about numerous passport stamps then stumbling to Mr's arms after having freshened up earlier with wetwipes and eyeliner in the plane's rudimentary plastic toilet cubicle, one's image of romance is certainly rendered more real than the phoney depictions of rose petals and candlelit poetry, or whatever.

Plenty of people have asked when we'll see each other next after our wedding soiree and honeymoon two months ago, and the answer is Christmas. Mr's coming back for more bacon-topped turkey, cracker jokes and mince pies, and we're both super-excited that we'll be able to see each other during the visa journey. We had both been concerned that it wouldn't be possible to see each other at all with 'visa pending', which would have required an even stronger kind of 'vis'.

On the Visa Journey: First base and getting touched

Sorry about the crude title, but it was too easy.

And thus concludes Act 1 Scene 1 of our petition. Nothing much will happen for about five months, as the other 100,000 or so June visa applications and petitions in California are also logged, filed, checked, approved and moved from desk to desk, person to person, until someone ticks a box and our little life story then gets sent from California to New Hampshire.

We will expect one of three things to happen in the coming months:

1. We will receive an NOA2, another I-797 form, to say that our petition has been approved and that the package is being sent to the National Visa Center in New Hampshire. Then we can officially 'apply' for the visa; or

2. We will receive an RFE, a Request for Further Evidence. If we filled out the form incorrectly, missed something, or didn't provide enough "evidence of a bonafide, ongoing marital union" then we will be asked to send particular documents to California; or

3. We will receive an NOA2 to say that our petition has been denied. This would happen if they didn't think that Mr was a US citizen; or didn't think that we'd met in person in the past two years; or if they had asked us to send more evidence to counter either of these two suspicions and we were unable to provide it.

Until then we read the scripts that let us know what to do when Act 2 comes around and we can (hopefully) apply for my visa!

There are actually some other things that we can do at this stage. Our petition is sitting like a duck in a sea of paperwork. You know, when it looks like not much is going on, but under the water surface is a frenzy of frenetic activity as the duck's webbed feet paddle frantically to get the old bird from A to B. Or California to New Hampshire. Or UK to PA. I'll explain what I'll be doing as we wait for our petition decision, in not so long a while, when the time comes.

There is one other fun little thing we can do while we wait for our petition decision. As well as being able to check our individual Visa Journey timeline to see how quickly or slowly petitions are being processed (note that link is not ours but overall current processing trends), we are also able to check the progress of our petition at the USCIS website. The USCIS website also allows us to login and check the status of our visa application, and the last date our petition file was 'touched'.

Our file is 'touched' when someone scans the file's barcode with our file number on it. To be honest, it doesn't really mean much. It could just mean that our file has been moved from one desk to another. As one person creatively described: it could mean someone spilt coffee on our file and just moved it to a clean desk. It could also mean that someone is reviewing our case, laughing at our facebook photos, making a decision on our petition, reading our Skype chat transcripts, or issuing an RFE for more Skype chats or notarized affidavits. Who knows. It's just a kinky way of describing the kind of action our package could be getting. Sorry, I don't think there's any other way to make bureaucratic processes sound fun.

But I know you're curious now, yes? When were we first touched?

The last activity on our file was 27th June. So we have a way to go yet to get past first base.

Californ I A: Visa petition hits the west coast

Our paperwork landed in Chicago and a few days later we received what is known as 'Notice of Action 1', or an I-797C, which is basically a notification to say USCIS received our inch-thick petition pack and forwarded it onto a Service Center for processing.

So now we wait.

But we can spin it rather nicely and say that the petition is on its way; it's just taking a slow, scenic roadtrip across America. USCIS has sent our little package from Chicago to California, where one of the four visa services is located (the other three are Vermont, Nebraska and Texas). As Pennsylvania is closer to Vermont we were a little surprised, so purely out of curiosity, and while our petition is rocking its Hollywood lifestyle, I tried to find out the difference between the four locations. Some Service Centers don't process petitions for all visa types (immigrant/non-immigrant/work/family/asylum/tourist and all their various subsections right to 'potential entrepreneur'), but usually petitions are distributed according to geography. Sometimes, though, they are sent elsewhere to ease the processing burden on a particular centre if they are busy or backlogged. I guess that's it.

For example late last year about 36,000 petitions were re-routed from CA to TX to clear backlogs at the CA Service Center. The measure failed when TX couldn't handle them all and they were sent back to CA. This resulted in huge delays for the poor petitioners and beneficiaries who had to wait helplessly as their paperwork was shifted from state to state with little to control its whereabouts in the system. 36,000 relationships were put on hold, while other petitions that hadn't been re-routed were processed in ordinary due course.

And another example: shortly after the Haitian earthquake in January last year the USA allowed Haitian citizens in the USA to apply for "Temporary Protected Status" (TPS). This status, while not an immigration status or a route to immigration, is a kind of visa or temporary asylum status allowing recipients to stay (and work) in the USA for a set period of time, while it's deemed unsafe for them to return to their home country. It's previously been offered to other nationalities such as to Hondurans and Nicaraguans after Hurricane Mitch in 1998, and is available to Sudanese citizens as well. I have read accounts (mostly at Visa Journey) that most of the Haiti TPS applications were sent to the Vermont Service Center, though it's unclear if that resulted in an actual slow down in processing in Vermont. Regardless, there was a cut off point for TPS applications for Haitians, and most (if not all) have been processed now.

The Arab spring and the earthquake in Japan, similarly to the situation in Haiti, could also theoretically affect US visa processing times, although USCIS monitors these events and tries to pre-empt potential fluxes in visa applications.

The good news is that California is currently on target and processing petitions in about 5 months. We can even track down the approximate week when we should expect to be contacted next. Visa Journey is a clever and supremely useful site that allows immigrants to enter in their key petition/application dates and compare them to others in similar situations and at similar stages of the process. As more people enter in data the site updates the average waiting times and the likely date of our next milestone.

At this stage, according to the VJ timeline, we should hear again from USCIS in October. If all goes well in October we'll be able to put in an actual visa application and will have a new set of forms to fill out and another 5 or so months to wait (more on that later). However, things can change, and with July/August being popular wedding months I wouldn't be surprised if things slowed down again towards the end of summer, but we can only wait and see.

According to USCIS, 1 million people become US permanent residents every year. That's a simple average of 83,333 a month. If, theoretically, each Service Center had an equal part in processing 1 million petitions (and I know the number of petitions will be higher than the number of approvals/visa applications), then mine would have been joined by 19,999 other petitions sent to California in June. Obviously these numbers are flawed. That 1 million is only those who have been approved, so there will be many more petitions to account for, as well as peaks and troughs within a yearly cycle. I can only presume July/August/September is busy post weddings, but this isn't even to mention the visa burdens experienced by Service Centers for any of the many other visa types available. My very rough uneducated guess is that mine could be one of almost 100,000 envelopes that landed on a desk in California in June. And with that in mind, a 5 month wait for an email would not seem unreasonable at all, really.

And so we wait.

A marriage of inconvenience: starting the visa journey

I've updated this blog with a number of backdated posts that I couldn't publish until after our wedding, although I ditched most of those about my DIY wedding dress as my mum documented the process of making the dresses rather wonderfully, here.

After the wedding, which was a blast, Mr Husband and I went away for a short but sweet honeymoon in Malta, and then spent a week relaxing in Scotland. I had half an idea of taking Mr up to the Highlands, but after all the buzz and excitement of the week leading up to the big event, and the travelling afterwards, we were happy to have a relaxing week at home. It also gave us the chance to begin the visa process for me to go to the States, and it was so refreshing and lovely to be able to tackle the tasks together rather than through laptop screens!

Several people have asked what happens now, and after asking if they are genuinely interested (and discovering that they are), I'm happy to explain:



The first step in this process is "filing an I-130 Immigrant Petition for Alien Relative". This is a form that a US citizen (USC) fills out to say that they have a relative in another country that they would like to bring to the USA. In our case my husband is the USC and I, his wife, am the direct relative (or 'Alien Relative'). This is a petition for me to be approved to apply for a visa. My husband is the petitioner and I am the 'beneficiary'.

We both also had to fill out forms with biographical information about ourselves, our parents, our birthplace(s), and every address we'd lived at for the past five years.

In addition to those forms, we had to include copies of birth certificates, passports, marriage certificate, US passport sized photos (which are a different size to UK passport photos), and evidence of an ongoing marital union. In our case we included: notarized affidavits from Mr's family members, joint invoices and contracts for wedding items, tickets from trips abroad together, tickets from trips to see each other, emails and facebook wall posts, photos, and evidence of my name on Mr's savings account (to show 'co-mingling of finances' as they like to put it).

The package was over an inch thick, and was sent to Chicago along with a cover letter/contents page, and the filing fee of $420.

This is but the start of the 'Visa Journey' and to be honest, most of that journey involves sitting, waiting patiently for nothing much to happen. But there are some points to note and some interesting quirks about this part of our paper-based adventure:

- We haven't hired a lawyer. We made the decision after familarising ourselves with the processes and the forms over a period of months. We decided that most of the required information is personal, biographical information that we (should) know best, and that we would rather be in control of the process at this stage rather than add an extra link for potential delays and errors.

- These are just the first lot of forms we'll need to do. So far it's not a visa application, but rather a petition for eligibility. We have to prove two essential things: That we are who we say we are, and that our marriage is genuine and in good faith.

- That's by no means the only fee we'll have to pay. We joke that ours is a marriage of inconvenience, though it will certainly be worth it in the end!

International paperwork part two arrives!

Mr got an email three hours ago:

"Your UK visa has been issued."

Another thing off the checklist then: UK entry clearance for groom - check! It's certainly good to know that the groom will be allowed in the country to go to his own party.

I'm incredibly impressed with how quickly UKBA dealt with his application, but know that the bit that comes afterwards won't be so easy.
But for now, invitations are out, and visa is approved. Let's get this party started.

Waiting Game #1 (or international paperwork x 2)

Background: Mr and I are a transatlantic long-distance couple. I live in Scotland; he lives in the USA. We made the decision a long time ago that we would get married in the UK, and that I will eventually move to the USA. The wedding destination was ultimately my decision, and it was an incredibly hard decision to make. It means that the number of guests on his side will be smaller because fewer people can travel across to the UK and it also means that after the wedding we will be apart for longer as my spouse visa is being processed. It was not the cheapest and easiest option, but amongst all the choices, none of which were particularly cheap or easy, it was the one that allowed me to have a wedding in the UK with my family and friends (and especially my grandparents who are in their late 70s) and gain some great experience in my current job (which I feel I was lucky to get during this job market). Mr has been incredibly gracious and understanding, considering that this was not his first choice and it involves two visas instead of one.

Special Marriage Visit Visa: Anyone not from the UK but getting married in the UK needs to get a visa called the Special Visit Visa: Marriage in order to be able to get married (unless they are immigrating to the UK, that's a different visa. This is for visits of less than 6 months). So because Mr is from the USA, he needs this visa for us to be able to get married. He won't be allowed in the country without it and we won't be able to get a marriage licence without it.

Marriage license in Scotland: Anyone getting married in Scotland needs to go through the General Register Office for Scotland (GROS). This must be done between 3 months and 15 days of the wedding: No more; no less. It states that anyone not from the UK must get a certificate of no impediment to register their marriage, but in the case of the USA this is not true; they are not available in the USA, and the GROS does not require them from US citizens (I called up and checked, in a mild panic). What they do need instead is a copy of the Special Visit Visa.

Waiting Game #1: Mr has sent off his visa application, so now we start waiting game number one, waiting for this to be processed and returned in enough time to then register the marriage. I've heard from my local MP and from our registrar (and from long extended grapevines) that couples can and do leave this too late, leaving them with a big expensive party and no wedding. We hope that we've time it correctly and that it'll all turn out fine, and the processing times on the UKBA website seem reasonable, but I can't help feeling nervous and very, very twitchy.

International paperwork part two: So the visa is one aspect of paperwork. Mr got the invites I designed (using a 30 day free trial of Adobe Illustrator) printed and I have heard that they are super. He was going to send them out, but instead sent them to me in a big box as most of the guests are in the UK. I want to get these invites sent out as soon as possible, but I'm waiting at the mercy of both our postal services for them, and it's likely they are delayed in customs while they stick a huge tax charge on for me to pay before I can get my mitts on them.

So we've checked a couple more things off the wedding checklist:
1. Visit visa application sent off.
2. Invites printed, guestlist drawn up (with most of our guest's addresses entered in a spreadsheet ready to be filled with RSVP and menu requests).
3. Accommodation and flights booked for Mr and his parents.