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Showing posts from February, 2013

Pending

Pending What if, when people asked, “How are you?” You said, “Pending.” That’s how I’d like to respond. Decisions are Pending. Actions are Pending. Everything feels Pending. Becoming a stranger in a strange land will do that. Applying for permanent residency in New Zealand will do that. I hired a highly-recommended immigration advisor, who gave me long lists of documents to compile. Plus, the kids and I would need medical exams. I was blood tested for tuberculosis, syphilis, AIDS, and liver problems (among other ailments), had a chest x-ray and even had my waist measured, to ensure I wasn’t too fat to immigrate. The kids had simpler physicals, minus x-rays, blood work (thank God) or waist measurements because they’re under age eleven. I got a certificate from the FBI stating I've never stuffed a corpse into a freezer or failed to pay parking tickets. Pete has provided copies of his New Zealand and British passports, plus notarized affidavits stating we’re in a relationshi...