When I first arrived in New York, I was very sad and lonely because I didn't know anybody. Eventually we got to meet people and now I have a wonderful array of very very good friends. Some are English, some are American and some I think are Aliens but that's never been questioned.
So I now had friends but of course they all work during the day (HHELLLOO) and so I got bored. This is when I decided to do voluntary work. This was ok at first, some weird and bizarre jobs but interesting, and it certainly mad me appreciate how the American psychey works. There's some STRANGE people out there. It gave me the opportunity to familiarize myself with New York and the different boroughs. I worked at a school that taught refugees and immigrants (I absolute hate those words) to speak English. Of course being from the land of monarchs I was perfect for the job. Actually it was a lot of fun. I had a class of around 6 to 8 people, ranging from 18 to 59. They were all very sweet and eager to learn. I remember at the Christmas party they bought me gifts which made me cry.
Unfortunately a few months after that, myself and my then boyfriend left to go skiing in Whistler, Canada, fab place, go if you haven't been. Lots of boarders, skiers...I couldn't ski for shit then, but I'm better now. Anyway the weekend was going soooo well, it's almost like feeling dead skinny, gorgeous, tanned and loved all at the same time. Well that was how I felt, I loved my man, the skiing had gone ok, the hotel was divine, so was the snow. You know, everything was good and then we got to the airport.....
I was confronted at the airport by a huge American GI soldier who politely informed me that I'd overstayed my welcome and couldn't return to American soil, basically #@%#$& off.
This, to say the least came as a bit of a shock and of course by this time my boyfriend had gone through and was waiting by the Gate for me to board the plane. I was hysterical, ran to the girl at the check-in desk, demanded that she contact my boyfriend at once and get him back on Canadian soil. She asked me if I was sure that he would want to do that....well you can imagine my response, the language was choice!!
He eventually came through looking very worried, gave me a big hug, whereas I dissolved into tears
yet again....pretty pathetic stuff.
We went back into Vancouver and attempted to acquire a visitors visa back to the States. This
was declined, we were stuck, what should we do?? I knew EXACTLY what needed to be done but I was waiting for himself to ask me the all important question.
WILL YOU MARRY ME? Yeah sure, why not. Obviously I was a bit more enthusiastic than that, but you get the picture.
DUM DUM DUM DUM....here comes the bride.
I left Canada two days later bound for Manchester (my home town), told my folks and friends then SHOPPED. My first port of call was Armani, acquired the first long coated trouser suit I saw, also bought a fab pair of steel heeled high black leather shoes with matching handbag, got my hair and nails done. My angel flew over a few days later with the most beautiful engagement ring from Tiffany's (I couldn't of picked a more beautiful ring myself). Then on Wednesday May 6, 1998 at 3pm we got married. Without a doubt, the best day of my life. Now I'm crying, just thinking of that day.
Unfortunately my new gorgeous husband had to fly back to New York the following Sunday due to work commitments. I, on the other hand had to stay and wait bloody months for the wank company lawyers to get me an interview with the American Embassy. I swear lawyers are full of it.
After two months waiting around and getting fat, I eventually got my interview,an American woman
(dhhhh, obviously American) who looked sweet and gentle but believe me...wasn't. She was pissed with me, and told me that I was taking advantage of the American visa waiver system. She hammered on and asked me lots of quick fire questions, some I answered well, some I didn't. She then huffed and puff, starred me out for a while and then the next thing that happened was beautiful to watch.....she stamped my passport. Hallelula,
god be praised, I'm going home. You see I now consider New York as my home, god I hope my mother doesn't read this.
It's been five years and I'm still loving it over here. It's definitely a different way of life but you know what, the definite hot summers and predictable winters I can certainly live with.
Now I work (still voluntary) a few days a week for an off-Broadway theatre company. It's lovely (well, most days), we have fun (sometimes) and the people are great (not all). I love it and I also get to see lots of great theatre for FREE!!!
I'm also still doing this web page everyday and am hoping to learn HTML coding so that by the time our Green Cards come through I can get myself a bit of work...fingers crossed!!
Anyway thanks for reading, I hope that my daily accounts of life in New York won't bore you TOO MUCH. I will endeavour to make them as entertaining as possible.
Thanks
OK I'll call myself Trinity (don't you just love The Matrix). I'm from the UK, I live in New York with my wonderful husband
(also from the UK) who works for a very fancy Merchant Bank in Times Square.
I can't legally work because I don't have a working Visa, I just have an L2 visa (crappy).
