A Review of My Experience at Montreal

[IR5FORMUMSIE 850]

Since I thought that another review of the interview process at Montreal might provide some measure of comfort to an otherwise highly stressful occasion, here's an unexpurgated, unembellished account of the events that transpired during the forenoon yesterday.

We left Toronto for Montreal at 2AM, the four of us (my younger brother, my parents and yours truly) in a Yaris. The SUV was in the shop and the rental was covered under policy. The trip was rather uneventful, except perhaps for the cloying darkness of large stretched of highway 401 that enveloped our conveyance like a shroud. My brother managed to make up time by the time we crossed into Quebec. The 401 becomes Autoroute 20 and while in the past our trips on the A20 have been without incident we have been fortunate to travel at times when construction has been relatively light and concentrated in small, widely disparate areas. This time we faced the full fury of that most Canadian of seasons: constructions. The bottleneck started just inside the Quebec border @ 5:45AM and after much tedium and nerve-wracking moments we arrived in Montreal @8:30 AM, nevertheless we trudged on to the consulate. A word is in order about Montreal. As a kid growing up in stodgy Toronto, I always believed that Montreal was a cosmopolitan, progressive city that did things with an élan and flair Toronto could never hope to emulate. I learned how wrong I was. The street signs were small and printed in a rather small font on a white background. With the salt spray and all the snow, visibility was less than ideal. We missed the turn (exit #3 on 720 and then a right on Rene Levesque) so we looked for a street to loop back. As we traversed the side streets, I was shocked, there was at least 9" of snow on Rue Tupper and cars parked on both sides of the street. Nine inches of slushy snow is a good amount of snow but in a small car like a Yaris that's a mountain. No wonder so many small cars with low ground clearance have their air dams damaged or goen in Montreal. We managed to avoid the front loader that was clearing an adjacent street (Rue Mathieu) and managed to get back on Rene Levesque. The Yaris was out of windshield washer fluid so we really couldn't see the signs but somehow we turned left on Universite then right on Ste. Catherine and turned down a small narrow street, Rue St. Alexandre. The street was slushy but as my brother stopped the car we got out into the dry patch (only 3" of slush) and walked to the consulate. The consulate has a rather small emblem over the door. We went inside to see a tiny area with enough room for maybe 10 people, there were 25 of us waiting on the steps. It was actually a converted side entrance and the waiting area was the steps leading to the door. A security guard with pseudo-official looking badges and a baton (no gun) was checking letters of appointment. On the right side was the line for non-immigrant visas and on the left, the line for immigrant visas and US citizens. Signs for intolerance to physical and verbal abuse were posted everywhere. From time to time people were let in from either door to the security screening. There were trays for the contents of your pockets, coats and documents, respectively. You then were asked to pass through a metal detector and a wand is swept over you. For electronic devices (and metal objects) you can check them at the back and will be given a claims check. My parents then passed through a door at the back to an elevator that went down to another reception area, I passed through a side door and was led down a flight of stairs into a waiting area that a counter with a stapler, rows of empty chairs and an out-of-use metal detector. There was nobody there save myself and, shortly thereafter, my parents who were led by a security guard through the back door to me. We were told to take the elevator to the 19^th floor and go to window 14 and then to return to the area. My parents told me the guards told her that they should have gone to the consulate in Toronto. We entered the elevator and, after what seemed like eternity, we emerged from the opposite from the opposite (back) side of the elevator to a bigger waiting room. In front there were three vending machines (chips/candy, coffee and pop, respectively) to the left a large array of chairs with many people, counters with pens and beyond the vending machines a hallway (couldn't really see this from the elevator) numbered windows (looked like ticket windows at a stadium or a horsetrack). As we turned left of the elevator to our left was another hallway and adjoining it, a series of more ticket windows. All the windows on both sides of the floor had numbers and there was a large electronic board in front of the row of chairs that one really couldn't see from the elevator. We proceeded to window 14 and the nice lady asked us if we had our appointment letter and our mailing envelope. She took the appointment letter and returned after a few minutes and gave us our tickets and told us to have a seat and to watch the board for our number. It was 8:48AM. We waited with quite a few other people. There appeared to be quite a few more mature individuals accompanied by younger people. In short, I think it was IR5 day because I only saw one couple with their x-ray envelope. While waiting a gentleman next to us was called to window 17 and while walking dropped his hat. My first thought was that he was going to be finished in a minute or two and would retrieve his hat. After 5 minutes another guy (you notice that I didn't use the term gentleman) was called to window 16. The hat was three feet in front of the window. I was starting to rise to give the hat to the gentleman at window 17 when my mother said to me, "I'll bet he (guy going to #16) doesn't pick it up." "Let's see," I stated. Mom was right. There was no way the second guy could miss it but he walked right over it as it didn't exist. I rose, walked over and picked up the hat and tapped the gentleman at 17 on the shoulder and stated, "excuse me, I think you dropped this." He smiled and thanked me. Shortly thereafter he returned smiling and we got to about Toronto and Montreal and snow removal and how Montreal is having serious economic problems and how few intellectuals are coming to Montreal these days (Spirit is one of the few) and how they're already $20 million over budget for snow removal. I think I compared it to Pittsburgh. I noted that my father hadn't been in Montreal since Expo '67 but he correct me (he had audited Admiral Corp. in 1971). We continued to wait, the gentleman had left by this time, and we were called to window 10. This was down a circuitous path on the other side of the vending machines just before one reaches another bank of ticket windows that are for US citizen services. A pleasant blonde woman named Denise (that's what it said on the stapler) was at the window and was told that the birth certificate and one police certificate was missing. I pointed out that I had sent in four sworn affidavits to the NVC and 30 pages of documents and a letter stating why the police certificate was unavailable. I looked at the file in front of her. Many of the documents that I had sent were missing from her file. Denise asked and I gave her a photocopy of one the sworn affidavits. Fortunately I had extra copies with me. After I gave Denise updated DS230s, passports, updated I-864Ezs and photos for my parents, she called my mother over for fingerprinting. This is when things got to be fun. My mother has virtually no fingerprints, a lifetime of being a go-getter means that her left hand has almost no ridges left and her right hand isn't much better. After 8 attempts (on a few occasions the computer crashed), Denise gave up and used the last one. I could hear her ask a supervisor and noted that the RCMP couldn't even get her fingerprints. I was told by the NVC, that you needed fingerprinting if you've been refused entry but this isn't true. Denise didn't seem to care about entry refusals. My father had his fingerprints taken with much less trouble. I was asked to complete the return address on the expresspost envelope. I asked about the price of the expresspost envelope that was posted on the wall. Denise didn't really say much just that it was for people who didn't bring one. The price for the national envelope was $10.06 plus surcharge and taxes and the price for the regional envelope was (no joke) $6.66 (why am I not surprised). After waiting a while, I noticed that the separators had mirrors on them so someone from behind the glass could observe the people who were in the room. I had the feeling that we were being watched. Finally Denise reappeared and we were told to wait outside as we'd be called shortly. It was 10:36AM. All my mom was worried about is that they wouldn't lose the passports. The 19^th floor has many large, panoramic windows and every so often I walked over to the windows and looked down at the street and then returned to the area in front of the US citizen services area. There were by my count, six IR5 applicants/couple applicants there. Finally we were called by name at 11:45AM. We went back down the hallway to the same room and at window #9 there was a tall man in his early 30s with light brown hair long fingers. He kind of reminded me of Matthew Modine for some reason. When he spoke I immediately recognized the voice, it was the movie voice guy (MG). I was going to point out that he was wasting his talent since he had such a great voice, but common sense and the fear that my sister, Len, would beat me within an inch of my life. He again took fingerprints of my parents (more fun for mom) I was pushy down on her hand so hard that I was afraid that either the glass would break or my mother's fingers would. I was starting to get perturbed, since my mother was in pain and she had already been fingerprinted by Denise. I father was again fingerprinted. We were then told to got to the first door along the hallway (room #8). Rooms #7 and #8 were like the other windows but were attached to an enclosed area that had a chair and a door. It was small, about 6' by 8'. MG appeared at the window and started asking questions. He asked us to swear to tell the truth. I asked why I was a votary since I wasn't immigrating. Just swear he commanded. "OK," I said. After being sworn in, he started, "you're the sponsor, Mr. Medici, so would you…" I interrupted him in a polite way.

"So who are you?"

"I'm the agent, his brother."

"This is my second son," my mother added. After clearing up the confusion. MG started asking questions.

"What kind of Doctor is the sponsor."

"My brother is an FP."

"I was wondering since his salary is $XX, XXX…"

"That was his salary during residency, I gave the lady an updated I-864EZ. He's guaranteed a salary of $XXX,XXX with options his projected salary is $XXX,XXX." MG seemed a bit confused, "oh…that sounds like what a doctor would make." MG then asked for my brother's birth certificate. I obliged and cautioned, "please be careful, it's tattered." MG responded, "I will." I'm not sure what he was looking for but MG examined the document from every possible angle, over and over. He held it up to the light several times. I still don't know what he was looking for. He then asked Mom when my brother was born.

"You've lived in Canada for forty years?"

"Yes."

"Why are you leaving now?"

"To live with my son," my mother answered.

"How will you pay for healthcare?"

"With my pension and my son's help, " my father responded.

"My son's a doctor," my mother added.

"My brother will add them to his policy," I stated matter-of-factly.

I honestly believe that MG has a stock batch of questions.

"How did you meet?" After 15,700+ days of marriage and three sons (and one mischievous and recalcitrant daughter, Len). PULLEEEZE! "We knew each other for a long time," my mother said. That was about it. Then MG stated, "your father needs to undergo administrative processing but your mom is eligible to apply for a visa." Eligible to apply for a visa, I thought. What the ???? was this #######. "Does she get her green card," I asked. "Yes. She can either wait for your father or get it now." "She'll get it now. A mother should be able to see her son." "When will we hear about my father," I inquired. "We'll contact you if we need anything else, do we have your phone number?"

After that it was back down the elevator up the stairs and out the door. The guards seemed a lot more pleasant now. We steeled ourselves for the exit from Montreal. I thought briefly about stopping at Notre Dame de Grace to say a few words for our wayward sister, Len (the guy at Club Super Sexe told me the patrons still miss Whiperella), but if I did that I'd be genuflecting from now until the rapture. We turned on Rue de la Montagne, passed by the Bell Centre (there was a Habs logo on the side) and got on the 720. The washer fluid was out but lil' bro managed to get us home through the whiteout conditions on the 401. especially in Eastern Ontario. C'est ca, well except for the lunatic that clipped the mirror on the Yaris.

[LadyJane 1]

Great review IR5,

but I'm confused...AP for your dad and a visa for your mom?!

[IR5FORMUMSIE 850]

Since I thought that another review of the interview process at Montreal might provide some measure of comfort to an otherwise highly stressful occasion, here's an unexpurgated, unembellished account of the events that transpired during the forenoon yesterday.

[/font]

We left Toronto for Montreal at 2AM, the four of us (my younger brother, my parents and yours truly) in a Yaris. The SUV was in the shop and the rental was covered under policy. The trip was rather uneventful, except perhaps for the cloying darkness of large stretched of highway 401 that enveloped our conveyance like a shroud. My brother managed to make up time by the time we crossed into Quebec. The 401 becomes Autoroute 20 and while in the past our trips on the A20 have been without incident we have been fortunate to travel at times when construction has been relatively light and concentrated in small, widely disparate areas. This time we faced the full fury of that most Canadian of seasons: constructions. The bottleneck started just inside the Quebec border @ 5:45AM and after much tedium and nerve-wracking moments we arrived in Montreal @8:30 AM, nevertheless we trudged on to the consulate. A word is in order about Montreal. As a kid growing up in stodgy Toronto, I always believed that Montreal was a cosmopolitan, progressive city that did things with an élan and flair Toronto could never hope to emulate. I learned how wrong I was. The street signs were small and printed in a rather small font on a white background. With the salt spray and all the snow, visibility was less than ideal. We missed the turn (exit #3 on 720 and then a right on Rene Levesque) so we looked for a street to loop back. As we traversed the side streets, I was shocked, there was at least 9" of snow on Rue Tupper and cars parked on both sides of the street. Nine inches of slushy snow is a good amount of snow but in a small car like a Yaris that's a mountain. No wonder so many small cars with low ground clearance have their air dams damaged or goen in Montreal. We managed to avoid the front loader that was clearing an adjacent street (Rue Mathieu) and managed to get back on Rene Levesque. The Yaris was out of windshield washer fluid so we really couldn't see the signs but somehow we turned left on Universite then right on Ste. Catherine and turned down a small narrow street, Rue St. Alexandre. The street was slushy but as my brother stopped the car we got out into the dry patch (only 3" of slush) and walked to the consulate. The consulate has a rather small emblem over the door. We went inside to see a tiny area with enough room for maybe 10 people, there were 25 of us waiting on the steps. It was actually a converted side entrance and the waiting area was the steps leading to the door. A security guard with pseudo-official looking badges and a baton (no gun) was checking letters of appointment. On the right side was the line for non-immigrant visas and on the left, the line for immigrant visas and US citizens. Signs for intolerance to physical and verbal abuse were posted everywhere. From time to time people were let in from either door to the security screening. There were trays for the contents of your pockets, coats and documents, respectively. You then were asked to pass through a metal detector and a wand is swept over you. For electronic devices (and metal objects) you can check them at the back and will be given a claims check. My parents then passed through a door at the back to an elevator that went down to another reception area, I passed through a side door and was led down a flight of stairs into a waiting area that a counter with a stapler, rows of empty chairs and an out-of-use metal detector. There was nobody there save myself and, shortly thereafter, my parents who were led by a security guard through the back door to me. We were told to take the elevator to the 19^th floor and go to window 14 and then to return to the area. My parents told me the guards told her that they should have gone to the consulate in Toronto. We entered the elevator and, after what seemed like eternity, we emerged from the opposite from the opposite (back) side of the elevator to a bigger waiting room. In front there were three vending machines (chips/candy, coffee and pop, respectively) to the left a large array of chairs with many people, counters with pens and beyond the vending machines a hallway (couldn't really see this from the elevator) numbered windows (looked like ticket windows at a stadium or a horsetrack). As we turned left of the elevator to our left was another hallway and adjoining it, a series of more ticket windows. All the windows on both sides of the floor had numbers and there was a large electronic board in front of the row of chairs that one really couldn't see from the elevator. We proceeded to window 14 and the nice lady asked us if we had our appointment letter and our mailing envelope. She took the appointment letter and returned after a few minutes and gave us our tickets and told us to have a seat and to watch the board for our number. It was 8:48AM. We waited with quite a few other people. There appeared to be quite a few more mature individuals accompanied by younger people. In short, I think it was IR5 day because I only saw one couple with their x-ray envelope. While waiting a gentleman next to us was called to window 17 and while walking dropped his hat. My first thought was that he was going to be finished in a minute or two and would retrieve his hat. After 5 minutes another guy (you notice that I didn't use the term gentleman) was called to window 16. The hat was three feet in front of the window. I was starting to rise to give the hat to the gentleman at window 17 when my mother said to me, "I'll bet he (guy going to #16) doesn't pick it up." "Let's see," I stated. Mom was right. There was no way the second guy could miss it but he walked right over it as it didn't exist. I rose, walked over and picked up the hat and tapped the gentleman at 17 on the shoulder and stated, "excuse me, I think you dropped this." He smiled and thanked me. Shortly thereafter he returned smiling and we got to about Toronto and Montreal and snow removal and how Montreal is having serious economic problems and how few intellectuals are coming to Montreal these days (Spirit is one of the few) and how they're already $20 million over budget for snow removal. I think I compared it to Pittsburgh. I noted that my father hadn't been in Montreal since Expo '67 but he correct me (he had audited Admiral Corp. in 1971). We continued to wait, the gentleman had left by this time, and we were called to window 10. This was down a circuitous path on the other side of the vending machines just before one reaches another bank of ticket windows that are for US citizen services. A pleasant blonde woman named Denise (that's what it said on the stapler) was at the window and was told that the birth certificate and one police certificate was missing. I pointed out that I had sent in four sworn affidavits to the NVC and 30 pages of documents and a letter stating why the police certificate was unavailable. I looked at the file in front of her. Many of the documents that I had sent were missing from her file. Denise asked and I gave her a photocopy of one the sworn affidavits. Fortunately I had extra copies with me. After I gave Denise updated DS230s, passports, updated I-864Ezs and photos for my parents, she called my mother over for fingerprinting. This is when things got to be fun. My mother has virtually no fingerprints, a lifetime of being a go-getter means that her left hand has almost no ridges left and her right hand isn't much better. After 8 attempts (on a few occasions the computer crashed), Denise gave up and used the last one. I could hear her ask a supervisor and noted that the RCMP couldn't even get her fingerprints. I was told by the NVC, that you needed fingerprinting if you've been refused entry but this isn't true. Denise didn't seem to care about entry refusals. My father had his fingerprints taken with much less trouble. I was asked to complete the return address on the expresspost envelope. I asked about the price of the expresspost envelope that was posted on the wall. Denise didn't really say much just that it was for people who didn't bring one. The price for the national envelope was $10.06 plus surcharge and taxes and the price for the regional envelope was (no joke) $6.66 (why am I not surprised). After waiting a while, I noticed that the separators had mirrors on them so someone from behind the glass could observe the people who were in the room. I had the feeling that we were being watched. Finally Denise reappeared and we were told to wait outside as we'd be called shortly. It was 10:36AM. All my mom was worried about is that they wouldn't lose the passports. The 19^th floor has many large, panoramic windows and every so often I walked over to the windows and looked down at the street and then returned to the area in front of the US citizen services area. There were by my count, six IR5 applicants/couple applicants there. Finally we were called by name at 11:45AM. We went back down the hallway to the same room and at window #9 there was a tall man in his early 30s with light brown hair long fingers. He kind of reminded me of Matthew Modine for some reason. When he spoke I immediately recognized the voice, it was the movie voice guy (MG). I was going to point out that he was wasting his talent since he had such a great voice, but common sense and the fear that my sister, Len, would beat me within an inch of my life. He again took fingerprints of my parents (more fun for mom) I was pushy down on her hand so hard that I was afraid that either the glass would break or my mother's fingers would. I was starting to get perturbed, since my mother was in pain and she had already been fingerprinted by Denise. I father was again fingerprinted. We were then told to got to the first door along the hallway (room #8). Rooms #7 and #8 were like the other windows but were attached to an enclosed area that had a chair and a door. It was small, about 6' by 8'. MG appeared at the window and started asking questions. He asked us to swear to tell the truth. I asked why I was a votary since I wasn't immigrating. Just swear he commanded. "OK," I said. After being sworn in, he started, "you're the sponsor, Mr. Medici, so would you…" I interrupted him in a polite way.

"So who are you?"

"I'm the agent, his brother."

"This is my second son," my mother added. After clearing up the confusion. MG started asking questions.

"What kind of Doctor is the sponsor."

"My brother is an FP."

"I was wondering since his salary is $XX, XXX…"

"That was his salary during residency, I gave the lady an updated I-864EZ. He's guaranteed a salary of $XXX,XXX with options his projected salary is $XXX,XXX." MG seemed a bit confused, "oh…that sounds like what a doctor would make." MG then asked for my brother's birth certificate. I obliged and cautioned, "please be careful, it's tattered." MG responded, "I will." I'm not sure what he was looking for but MG examined the document from every possible angle, over and over. He held it up to the light several times. I still don't know what he was looking for. He then asked Mom when my brother was born.

"You've lived in Canada for forty years?"

"Yes."

"Why are you leaving now?"

"To live with my son," my mother answered.

"How will you pay for healthcare?"

"With my pension and my son's help, " my father responded.

"My son's a doctor," my mother added.

"My brother will add them to his policy," I stated matter-of-factly.

I honestly believe that MG has a stock batch of questions.

"How did you meet?" After 15,700+ days of marriage and three sons (and one mischievous and recalcitrant daughter, Len). PULLEEEZE! "We knew each other for a long time," my mother said. That was about it. Then MG stated, "your father needs to undergo administrative processing but your mom is eligible to apply for a visa." Eligible to apply for a visa, I thought. What the ???? was this #######. "Does she get her green card," I asked. "Yes. She can either wait for your father or get it now." "She'll get it now. A mother should be able to see her son." "When will we hear about my father," I inquired. "We'll contact you if we need anything else, do we have your phone number?"

After that it was back down the elevator up the stairs and out the door. The guards seemed a lot more pleasant now. We steeled ourselves for the exit from Montreal. I thought briefly about stopping at Notre Dame de Grace to say a few words for our wayward sister, Len (the guy at Club Super Sexe told me the patrons still miss Whiperella ), but if I did that I'd be genuflecting from now until the rapture. We turned on Rue de la Montagne, passed by the Bell Centre (there was a Habs logo on the side) and got on the 720. The washer fluid was out but lil' bro managed to get us home through the whiteout conditions on the 401. especially in Eastern Ontario. C'est ca, well except for the lunatic that clipped the mirror on the Yaris.

Damn editor!

[thermophile 0]

lovely tale.

good thing movie guy was looking out for a marriage of convenience, never know the lengths (40 years and you ) people might go to to perpetrate immigration fraud

Edited December 21, 2007 by thermophile

[IR5FORMUMSIE 850]

Great review IR5,

but I'm confused...AP for your dad and a visa for your mom?!

Thanks for the kind words. Mom gets her alien residence and Dad waits in purgatory.

lovely tale.

good thing movie guy was looking out for a marriage of convenience, never know the lengths (40 years and you ) people might go to to perpetrate immigration fraud

True, very true.

[Chica Yeyé 41]

Holy brother. I just am sitting down at home replying as I should have earlier. Mr. MG needs to get laid, pronto - what an azzhole. Why the heck would pops need AP for???? Jesus! Good ma was approved - will she wait in T'ranna until pops gets clearance or what? I just don't get these people brother, they are bordering in unconsciousness . The HOW DID YOU MEET? gains the prize for the utter and most moronic question ever asked at MTL: what a #######. As if ma and pops were faking it LMFAO

Send me the severance pay, you SOB. I bet they miss Whiperella - got them good biz

p.s. Now that I know you're a Doc I will kindly ask you to write me a couple'o Rx tov distribute in the black market....

[knowledge 0]

I'm so sorry to hear that they put your parents in such situation. What a day....!!!...I hope the AP will be fast and smooth this time!!!

[trailmix 77]

Well. Well, well, well.

I'm still processing the 'how did you meet' thing too. Although it did confirm the - they have a stock set of questions to ask because what do you ask two normal people sitting in front of you.

It sounds like an awful experience. The editor made it look awful too

[IR5FORMUMSIE 850]

Well. Well, well, well.

I'm still processing the 'how did you meet' thing too. Although it did confirm the - they have a stock set of questions to ask because what do you ask two normal people sitting in front of you.

It sounds like an awful experience. The editor made it look awful too

The whole experience more than a little dystopic , still the OP sounds like a rather disturbed individual.

[trailmix 77]

Well one could assume that it was probably a name hit, does your Dad have a common name/surname? I'm sure you've read the AP posts, some of them get cleared up in no time at all and i'm sure this will be the case.

I hope your parents aren't feeling too disappointed, it means they get to spend more time with you before they put you up for adoption move.

[BH45 0]

Wow...sounds like an interesting day. "How did you meet?" Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease. Some people have no sense. To approve one and not the other....*smacks my forehead*....maybe he should have had a V8 before work.

I hope things move along much smoother from here on.

[IR5FORMUMSIE 850]

Holy brother. I just am sitting down at home replying as I should have earlier. Mr. MG needs to get laid, pronto - what an azzhole. Why the heck would pops need AP for???? Jesus! Good ma was approved - will she wait in T'ranna until pops gets clearance or what? I just don't get these people brother, they are bordering in unconsciousness . The HOW DID YOU MEET? gains the prize for the utter and most moronic question ever asked at MTL: what a #######. As if ma and pops were faking it LMFAO

Send me the severance pay, you SOB. I bet they miss Whiperella - got them good biz

p.s. Now that I know you're a Doc I will kindly ask you to write me a couple'o Rx tov distribute in the black market....

My parents were not amused with that question. I think that they were honestly shocked at the stupidity of the question. My father, who tends to understate his qualifications, didn't know how to answer the questions on what he was going to do to earn a living. I bit my tongue real hard. What I wanted to say was, You Fukkin moron with his background he's either going to chair the Fed or run the World Bank. Do you honestly think that David Rockefeller interviews idiots like you, Mr. MG, to manage the foreign currency trading for Chase Manhattan? I think my father just stated, "I'm retired." He was really not comfortable with the question.

I knew we were in for fun and games when we were asked to wait before going out to the main waiting area. The loss of all those documents at the NVC. I'm just starting on the mindless stupidity. As my father keeps pointing out, what the Hell took them 6 mos. to schedule a damn interview if they haven't done a background check yet.

Dude at the club said that you got them plenty of business, but no repeat customers. They came in to see you, promptly threw bottles at the stage and ran away. Some of them even went blind. Even the exorcism didn't help.

I'm no MD, big bro is. He's having fun and games with the licensing board of AZ. But that's another story of bureaucrats wasting time. BTW, did you want more Endocet or will Tylenol #3 do?

Mom will almost certainly go see big bro soon (AZ in the winter versus T'ranna hmmm....)as for Pop, we'll see about this AP #######. My brother is going to make some noise if nothing happens in the next 30 days. If there's one thing I've learned from you, it's this, if a problem comes along you must whip it.

[trailmix 77]

Oh and the loss of the documents! What's up with that!! Umm the NVC sent us this stuff and obviously approved it going through, but we have nothing on that <looks at you to solve the problem> - their problem. That is so just not good enough.

Now i'm getting mad

[IR5FORMUMSIE 850]

Oh and the loss of the documents! What's up with that!! Umm the NVC sent us this stuff and obviously approved it going through, but we have nothing on that <looks at you to solve the problem> - their problem. That is so just not good enough.

Now i'm getting mad

I'm horrified at the thought that someone sends an irreplaceable document and the NVC loses it. Scary isn't it.

Wow...sounds like an interesting day. "How did you meet?" Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease. Some people have no sense. To approve one and not the other....*smacks my forehead*....maybe he should have had a V8 before work.

I hope things move along much smoother from here on.

My father has taken this in stride. He figures, whatever. Shouldn't be a problem if the FBI hurries up.

[knowledge 0]

Oh and the loss of the documents! What's up with that!! Umm the NVC sent us this stuff and obviously approved it going through, but we have nothing on that <looks at you to solve the problem> - their problem. That is so just not good enough.

Now i'm getting mad

I'm horrified at the thought that someone sends an irreplaceable document and the NVC loses it. Scary isn't it.

Wow...sounds like an interesting day. "How did you meet?" Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease. Some people have no sense. To approve one and not the other....*smacks my forehead*....maybe he should have had a V8 before work.

I hope things move along much smoother from here on.

My father has taken this in stride. He figures, whatever. Shouldn't be a problem if the FBI hurries up.

Trailmix has a good point, something seems fishy....reminds me hubby received offer from our senator to continue to help us...i.e., to send the consulate a note stating they are "watching" them that everything goes ok..lol...Maybe something similar can be done, at least to know how come they lost so many papers...who knows!!!...

Oh! and for the: when did you meet?....to paraphrase Chomsky, i would say...: they got alienated by the system...having to repeat the same phrases at each interview....

Oh! and another one...tell your father he has here a harem of admirers....to support him in this process!....