I am still here, unfortunately, in the USA. As usual, planning an international escape has many delays, obstacles and barriers. The ducks are there, but they won't hold still. I am making progress, but the latest problems involve something that is necessary for plans to continue. A departure date.
To get a visa, I must know my departure date at a maximum of six months before departure. The way things have been moving along, the date keeps moving, mostly back.
I must also have a commitment by a number of other people, some important documents are in the mail, but it has taken until last week to get them there. Now the dance begins about making sure everything manages to be put in order. This is the part that tries nerves, relationships and peace of mind.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Getting Fired Back Up
I am a repatriated expatriate. That makes me a castaway patriot. I have been back to this country for ten years, and it feels like a thousand. How I managed to maintain my residency during the entire time of the George Dubbya terms is beyond me. I have about had all of it I can take, and the coming elections promise little respite. I am going to attempt to get back "home".
If it was just me, it would be really easy. When I returned from Japan in September 1998, all I had was a duffel bag and one key. (the key to the duffel bag!) Now I am tied down by several cars, a travel trailer and a part time job. I have two dogs and a wife. Things were so much simpler when I was single. There were times when I just got up and left everything sitting where it was and moved on down the line. I just ain't that simple anymore. Admittedly, the wife did drag me off to Japan in the first place, and followed me back about 6 months later, but she has a habit of picking up more unleaveable, undisposable junk than I. (She does have me to contend with, that is a big handicap right from the start.)
I have begun to make plans, I have lists, diagrams, charts, weights and mesures, conversion charts, a bi-degree-ble thermometer and a monstrous urge to just get on the next plane outta here. I must bide my time and make sure that I have all the duck sitting in little rows. When I leave this time, I don't plan to come back except to visit, and then, only if necessary.
If it was just me, it would be really easy. When I returned from Japan in September 1998, all I had was a duffel bag and one key. (the key to the duffel bag!) Now I am tied down by several cars, a travel trailer and a part time job. I have two dogs and a wife. Things were so much simpler when I was single. There were times when I just got up and left everything sitting where it was and moved on down the line. I just ain't that simple anymore. Admittedly, the wife did drag me off to Japan in the first place, and followed me back about 6 months later, but she has a habit of picking up more unleaveable, undisposable junk than I. (She does have me to contend with, that is a big handicap right from the start.)
I have begun to make plans, I have lists, diagrams, charts, weights and mesures, conversion charts, a bi-degree-ble thermometer and a monstrous urge to just get on the next plane outta here. I must bide my time and make sure that I have all the duck sitting in little rows. When I leave this time, I don't plan to come back except to visit, and then, only if necessary.
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