July 22, 2004

Miracle sand Paperwork

	Lady Senie here with another random brain fart.  To those of you that care 
I apologize that I haven't been around to chat and/or offer random comment on 
the boards over the past... two months?  Wow, has it really been that long?  
Well anyway, I've been extraordinarily busy doing things that I'll be explaining 
in a bit.  Besides, I suck at keeping in touch.  With everyone.  Including my 
fiance - so please don't take offence.

	Alright, now that the intro's out of the way (I never quite know how to 
start these things anyway), I can dive right into the story.  And dear God, what 
a story it is.  Honestly, I think I'm gonna write a book about my many 
misadventures with Canadian Immigration - some of which _I_ don't even frickin 
believe - and sell it to Quentin Tarrantino.  Any ideas for casting?  And please 
don't suggest gone of those 'you-can-count-my-ribs-I'm-allergic-to-food' 
actresses for my role.  I'm a curvy, voluptuous woman and it would force me to 
perform an un-anesthetized vivisection on anyone that would suggest that's a bad 
thing by calling on one of the 'bulemic five' to play me.  And to those that 
think they would die halfway through an un-anesthetized vivisection anyway, I 
say this: 'I _was_ a pre-med student, _am going_ into nursing, and have been in 
the research field for _YEARS_.  You'd be surprised what you can live through.'

	Here's some background info, and I promise I'm not writing that 
aforementioned book here.  Well, maybe just a rough draft...  Just kidding.  
Back in 2001 I wrote a manifesto *gasp* God, the years are just rolling on by, 
aren't they?  Anyway, that's not the point.  The point is that at the end of 
that rant I said that I would be Canada-bound on August 30th.  You know, I 
really struggled with whether or not to include that little announcement in 
there.  See, there are two sides to making such bold statements.  On the plus 
side, once you've actually said it, you've gotta go through with it.  But then 
again, once you've actually said it, you've gotta go through with it - otherwise 
you're a liar and a coward.  I did a bit of a compromise - I left October 5th, 
and yes, I still kick myself sometimes for waiting considering how insane the 
border got after September 11th, 2001.  My first encounter with Canadian 
Immigration was October 7th, at the Saskatchewan portal.  That was the first 
time I was half-accused of being a terrorist and fully-accused of trying to 
illegally immigrate to Canada.  Considering that I've never even cheated on a 
test, that last bit sorta put me into a tail-spin.  Poor Chris.  I'm in a state 
of shock, politely thanking the border guard for his time while signing away my 
right to enter the country, and he's doing his level best to convince him that 
I'll leave when my time in the country is up.

	The next day we ended up in Sweetgrass, Montana.  The woman there was 
about to have me sign another rejection slip, my brain finally kicked into gear.  
(Incidentally, do I look like a terrorist?  I mean, most of you reading this 
have seen pictures of me before, and I'm sure I can bribe our beloved Czar to 
put one up if anyone's curious.  But it seems that there's a hidden profile 
somewhere in the immigration annals I'm not aware of).  Together we convinced 
the border guard to let me in.  I spent the next four months in Calgary as a 
visitor, looking up immigration forms and trying to find some way to stay where 
I was.  But in the end it just wasn't meant to be.

	There's another hard statement to write: 'it wasn't meant to be'.  After 
three years of going over those four wonderful/terrible months, I can finally 
say it without cringing, bursting into angry tears, or beating myself up 
mentally for all the things I did/didn't do during that time.  And anyone that's 
ever attempted something big and watched it fall apart or blow up in their face 
knows exactly what I'm talking about.  "Woulda, coulda, shoulda" has killed more 
dreams, more spirits, and more people than I'm comfortable admitting.  It's a 
dangerous trap to fall into as you can't change your reality when your focus is 
on your regrets.  It's paralyzing, the self-doubt begins to gnaw at your ability 
to make choices and stand by them.  'What if I'm wrong?'  'What if I mess up 
again?'  If you're living in that kind of hell, please find a way t ostop.  We 
need you - I need you with up to help change this world for the better.  God 
gives each of us a brand new opportunity everyday to redefine ourselves.  As 
long as we are alive, there's no excuse not to take it.

	Damn, when did I go all 'Public Service Announcement'??  Sorry, it kinda 
creeps up on me sometimes.  Now, where was I?  Oh yes, the return trip.

	I used the last of our combined savings to get on a Greyhound bus that 
left Calgary January 3, 2002 and arrived in Philly eighty lonely hours later.  
Instead of having my tail se firmly between my legs as most people expected, 
however, I was more determined than ever to make Calgary my permanent residence.  
I've taken a very Peter-like attitude towards my first attempt.  Everyone knows 
about poor Peter, the guy who almost drowned while walking on the water.  People 
who don't even believe in Christ can tell you all about Peter and his lack of 
faith.  People never seem interested in remembering that no matter the outcome: 
1) he was the only one of the twelve with enough faith to try it, and 2) the man 
defied the laws of the universe and, for however many minutes or even seconds, 
he walked on the frickin water.  How many others can say that?

	These types of thoughts in mind, I took a job in a research lab with a 
two-year minimum contract.  I'd read that to apply to Canada as a skilled 
worker, I needed two full-time years' worth of steady employment in a needed 
field.  This seemed a perfect way to get that experience, given that full-time 
school never left much time for full-time work.  More importantly, I had time 
figure out what I was gonna do with my life.  I think a lot of people forget how 
difficult it is to decide on a long-term career when you're in your teens, 
twenties, or sometimes even thirties.

	At the time I had two major options in mind - career research tech or 
registered nurse.  I chose RN which is a whole other story I'm sure no one cares 
about, and immediately started looking into schooling.  Well, America was out of 
the running.  Getting my degree here would have meant at least three more years 
in Philly.  Fast forward about a year.  It's now May 2003 and I'm on a trip to - 
you guessed it - Canada.  My then boyfriend took me to the University of Calgary 
to see if enrolling for the Fall 2004 semester was even possible.  You know, I 
just realized that even though we'd talked about it many times, we didn't stop 
by until the day after he asked me to be his wife.

	That bastard.

	Anyway, the answer was 'yes' and back to Philly I went; ring on finger, 
list in hand, prayers and plans on lips and heart.  I couldn't apply for another 
six months, but I had plenty to occupy my time and attention while I waited.  
For example - and believe me, this was one of the smaller things on the list 
(which should tell you just how peachy things were going) - there was the 
possibility of loosing my job.  See, my boss was arrested about a month before 
Chris proposed.  Much wackiness has ensued since.  Oy vay...

	In the midst of all that though, I was taking my application as a test 
from God.  No, that's not right.  The truth is, I decided that after all the 
crap that's assaulted itself against me, if God was really trying to tell me not 
to venture forth to the land of polar bears and igloos (don't ask), He wouldn't 
allow my application to go through.  So here was my task.  Gather all the 
necessary documents, scrape together the funds, ignore all distractions from all 
manner of interesting places, do what needed to be done, and DON'T SCREW UP THIS 
TIME!!  You would've thought I was prepping for the academic triad or something 
the way I kept going over facts and getting ready.  By October 15th - the day 
online application began - everyone around me knew not to get between me and my 
computer.  Forms sent, transcripts out...  Yeah, I was on a roll.

	Then things started going wrong.

	U Calgary decided I was still enrolled in school down here for a semester 
I wasn't taking.  Some of the course descriptions I needed existed only in the 
minds of teachers that were on vacation for the summer.  Others refused to be 
helpful.  They held off their decision for that non-existent Spring semester 
grades, then put my application on hold, saying my GPA was too low.  The people 
who run the nursing program met and came to a decision on my application on June 
15th.  

	"We're putting your application on the waiting list, Ms. McAllister."

	"Um... okay.  What does that mean, Ms. Program Director?"

	"Don't hold your breath."

	Keep in mind that this all happened within the space of three month, with 
a royal crap-load of other drama going on around me.  Poor Chris.  Poor Binky.  
Poor Draxel.  Poor Mamala Sandra.  I just about wore all their phones out crying 
about my problems and my life and 'I'm lonely' and all manner of crap.  Oh 
well...

	By now you're no doubt wondering what the point of all this is.  But in 
order to understand what happened next, you need a bit of history.

	So, it's the end of June.  With my application on permanent hold/rejected, 
I figured it might be a good idea to move to plan B.  Plan B involving job 
hunting in two countries.  That's right, not all of us 'Yanks' go to mommy and 
daddy or take up elicit occupations when hard up for cash.  As for the 'second 
country' thing, I found out that I finally had enough schooling, training, and 
experience to give that whole 'skilled worker' angle a go.  There was only one 
dominating thought in my head from April to June: I will not give up or wimp out 
this time.  One way or another I resolved to make this happen.  As Binky so 
eloquently put it: 'it's about time for you to come home'

	You haven't a clue what it's like to be the only one around that truly 
believes it's possible to achieve an unbelievably hard end.  My phone bill was 
through the roof until Chris took pity on me and got me a dial-up roaming 
number.  Love my baby...  ^_^

	*Ahem*  I got an email on June 29th.  Not so unusual in and of itself, but 
this one wasn't offering a deal on Viagra, penis enlargement, or porn, so I 
opened it.  (What part of 'Lady Senie' indicates that I'm a male?)  In fact, it 
was from U Calgary offering me a position in their nursing program!  SQUEE!!!  
AFTER ALL THIS TIME, AFTER ALL THE STUFF (and believe me, this is the extra 
condensed version of events) IM FINALLY GOING TO CANADA!!!!  ^_^

	Um...  Sorry.  I'm still a little hype.  ::grins::

So, what does any of this have to do with my mysterious disappearance from 
the world at large?  I've been juggling two jobs, a mountain of confusing and 
circular paperwork, a slew of advisor-type people - some helpful most not, an 
irate boss, the usual... stuff, and a lot of other tings I don't care to mention 
here in the name of space conservation (which I'm sure you're thinking is a moot 
point now).  Basically, I'm out of my house at 7:30 in the morning and don't 
come back until after midnight.  Forty-eight hours a week wiping old peoples' 
bottoms on top of sixteen hours a week counting brain cells and trying not to 
fall asleep at the computer...  Yeah, I really am attempting to kill myself.  On 
the up side, I've almost got all the funds I need for the journey home.  Home to 
the arms of the man I love so completely.  Home to my friends.  Home to the city 
I love.  And mostly importantly, back to the place I truly belong.

	So here's another one of those bold statements.  On August 20th I'll be 
catching a Greyhound back to Calgary, Study permit in hand.  And I don't intend 
to _ever_ be denied entrance to the Great White North again.

	I'll let you know how it goes, eh?  ^_~




Lady Senie [CreatorAtWork@yahoo.com]