Anyone who was talking with me the entire month of July knows how horrible the visa application process was. I was constantly checking various websites, calling automated systems that had no information and then trying to get said information from real people who would then refer me back to their automated accomplices in the destruction of my soul.
But I triumphed over the red tape, or whatever color it is in the UK, and on 7 July, 2010, a day which will live on in the annals of minuscule victories of the masses over the powers that be at the UK Border Agency, I received my visa. It was pasted ever so delicately in the pages of my passport, though the text is ever so slightly shifted so that labels and their information are not aligned properly.
So for a short while, I was feeling rather dandy, if I do say so myself. I had triumphed, I was a visa application pro. I helped at least three other girls with their applications, I answered their emails thoroughly and magnanimously, delighting in my ability to help them ::cue "Poor Unfortunate Souls"::
But then.
Disaster struck.
And by disaster, yes, I mean heaving to go to the MVA (the same thing as the DMV for everyone not in weird states like Maryland). How astute of you to perceive that.
At least with the visa I could be frustrated in the comfort of my own home, with the good kind of toilet paper.
In any case, Mom and I had done our research...or so we thought. It was a perfectly normal Saturday morning on 24 July when we went to the MVA, one big happy family, though sadly without Sister the Elder. Papa needed to renew his license and I needed to get my state ID since my permit will expire next year and it has that obnoxious red box around my face that says "YOU ARE NOT 21 YOU CANNOT DRINK OR HAVE A LIFE, MEASLY PEON AND SCUM OF THE EARTH JUDGED SOLELY BY YOUR AGE." Now is NOT the time to make some snide comment about my lack of a driver's license. Shut up.
But I digress. Anyway, we got our tickets. We waited. For over two hours. My number finally gets called, "VICTORY IS MINE!" I say to myself, oh foolish child that I am. After all, I was in the MVA where time is forever lost and souls are dulled by the automated number counter. I got up to the counter and handed the lady my materials, as they were all in order and ready to go. BUT NO! She said, much less dramatically, the law had changed! And she pointed to a bland piece of paper taped to the divider next to her. The new law stated that over-the-counter IDs could only be given to adults under certain circumstances.
Please consider, for a moment, that minors (ie, people who don't REALLY need IDs) can get an over-the-counter ID no matter what. But an adult has to wait to get his/hers in the mail. Um...
What?
Anyway, one of the ways to get an over-the-counter ID is if you are traveling in less than 20 days, which I was. But I needed to have a printed itinerary, which I did not. In a last-ditch attempt to change my fate, I asked the lady if I could simply pull up my itinerary on her screen.
I need not say what her answer was. Instead, I will continue the story, which brings us to the following Tuesday, 27 July. My dearest mother took the day off work to drive me around to my various doctors' appointments and, yes, to deal with this ID crisis. Anyone familiar with current events would know that the previous Sunday there was a huge storm, knocking out much of the power in Montgomery County and surrounding environs. Our house still didn't have power. And neither did the MVA Express where I was hoping to get my ID.
So guess where I went next? Back to the Depths of Hell, from which Dante was mercifully spared. Another few hours went by and I got my ID. I know, anti-climactic, right? My picture is nice, my digitally-collected signature is ugly...but that's about it. It'll go nicely with my passport with the visa and ISIC card from UNESCO.
I am officially identifiable.
should you really have your whole name on there??
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