Never have truer words been said

The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blindside you at 4 p.m. on some idle Tuesday.

—Everybody's Free to Wear Sunscreen by Mary Schmich

This week, I'm sure, will be a front runner for Most Likely To Be The Suckiest This Year for me. Come New Year's Eve, when I'm looking back at what the hell I frittered my life on in 2007, this one's going to stand out in the for-God's-sake-don't-do-that-again stakes (it will join 'artistic broody guys' and 'cheap shoes'.

So, Monday 9.30am finds me checking some email and I read one from an Aussies in America group about maximum tourist stays being 6 months. I'm sure I have a 1-year visa, but run and check it anyway. Lo and behold, the email was true. There, like a stab in my side, is the red stamp with a date that's 10 days old.

I was completely blind-sided in every possible way. Frantic phone calls and emails and visits with lawyers fill the following days. I learn more about US immigration law than I ever planned to know. I was suggested to get married about 5 times. A few more, and it would be akin to a visit to the parents ;) After much research and thinking, the gaping, devastating, nauseous feeling slowly subsides to a low hum. The consequences, though not ideal, aren't as devastating as I initially thought.

But, it does remind me that I'm the most foolish fool that ever fooled, for trying to live in another country. My first years in Singapore were wrought with dealings with the immigration department as well, so this is not my first time. Dealings with immigration departments, no matter what country you're in, seems to be its own special level of hell. They have a separate button in the elevator and everything. I realise more ludicrous things have been achieved before, putting a man on the moon, Paris' "career'"for two, but not that many.

Avenue Q - It Sucks To Be Me

My theme song these days...

Truth and dare

These past 6 months, I have come to think about risk a lot. Not the game kind, the kicked-in-the-gut kind.

What I left and lost: My autonomy–hardest. My financial plan–easiest.
What I must give up. My sense of entitlement. My resentment for the weight I magically gained :p
Why I did this. What is it that I'm actually after: Like the Golden Gate Bridge on a foggy day, I know it's there, I just can't see the details right now.
Whether it's worth it: I would have been a lot more ambivalent about this yesterday, but after a good meeting today, I think it just might be.
Whether I'm being bold or reckless. Maybe.

A wonderful reader's survey in the New York Times, courtesy of Miss T, asking people why they take risks perked me up muchly. A big reminder that there's others in the same boat. That it does work out. Or even if it doesn't they still lived to tell the tale. And, that come to think of it, the risk of the Big Move doesn't come nearly close to #90's comment: "Being honest with people (and myself) in all of my relationships (platonic and romantic)."

As a truly huge fan of "keeping things nice" I realise I'd really rather move across the ocean again, or repel down the side of a cliff, than to break my vow of compliance and speak the truth all the time. Something just freaks out inside every time I think I endanger my relationships with the truth. Better a relationship based on a little lying than none at all, right? ...is my general line of thinking.

Retarded, but true, at least.