That was a bit of an anticlimax.
Yesterday, at 1pm was my scheduled appointment with the American Embassy for an interview about my visa application. The whle process was a little guilt up what with all the phonecalls and online application and the I-20 hassle and the fees I'd have to pay. Before the appointment. I'd been told that I'd need every single piece of original paperwork to prove I could pay for myself, some sort of proof that I have ties to my home country, and was therefore coming back, and absolutely not using a second postgraduate degree as an excuse to be in the same timezone as my girlfriend or anything. Bing and I considered bringing a photo of Abby and a sonogram of her little sibling so I could go "Look! Look what I'm leaving behind! How could I abandon them?!", but in the end I decided not to.
I'd also been told that a) I wouldn't be allowed to bring in ANY electronic devices, including media players, phones, or anything else to bide the time while waiting, and b) I would have to wait outside so not to arrive more than half an hour before my appointment, so I went around to the Grant Museum beforehand to drop phone and iGor (and knitting) off before heading to Grosvenor Square.
Embassies are usually easy to tell because they have a flag flying above the door. I admit, I kind fo almost missed the US Embassy, because the flag was higher - sticking right up proudly into the sky right next to a giant eagle. Which was... well, American.
I was also on the other side of a wooded square. Opposite the smaller Canadian embassy, the US building is an ilustration of importatn looking pomp. There are fifty flags outside, at 'street' level, which of course makes sense, but adds to the 'we're the most important embassy in the world
' feel. i arrived 40 minutes before my appointment time but didn't have to queue outside at all - I went in, got a number, had my forms processed and sat down waiting for my interview.
I had an hour waiting there, reading my comics (Birds of Prey, Legacies of the DC Universe
, Black Cat
) and my book, and comig up with aoll sorts of ways in which they could refuse my application. Maybe the fact that there was tipex on the forms my parents had signed to say they would support me? Maybe they'd get it out of me that I'm a big gayer and we don't want that sort? Maybe I forgot to bring something very important? Maybe...
Maybe, after an hour waiting, they'd ask me "Tell me about your degree? Are you a teacher now? What do you plan to do afterwards?" Then approve my application.
What an anticlimax.
Still, I got to spend a few hours after that reading in the park while I waited to see Them
at the Grant Museum (which is an excellent movie)
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