It was the heat of the moment

Nothing gets me inspired like Asia’s “Heat of the Moment,” which I am currently listening to, but what to do on a Wednesday night/Thursday morning at 12:30 am? Write a blog, that’s what. HA! I just now pieced together that I am listening to Asia while preparing to leave for Asia. While you are probably not laughing at this, I just chuckled to myself for a good fifteen seconds. No one gets me. So here begins blog number four. Since the toiletry shopping trip, I have been in the process of acquiring, or rather attempting to acquire my Chinese visa. My father has patiently agreed to be my permanent residence so that my mail can be sent to his house, and he called last week saying my alien employment license arrived! I’ve been waiting for this day since I was a little girl. I used to practice the face I would make in the mirror upon its arrival. So now that Chinese government has ascertained I am not infected with AIDS or mental disease, both of which will deny your entry into China, I am cleared to apply for a visa. One slight hitch in the grand plan: the closest consulate is in San Francisco, AND the visa has to be applied for in person. FUCK. On a side note, I was warned that dropping the F bomb could be a potential problem if future employers read this. To that I am flattered that my cautioner thinks anyone beyond my immediate circle would be interested in reading my blog, and secondly, prospective employers, if you are reading, I promise I very rarely drop the F word in the classroom, and only when students are really pissing me off.
Forgive my tangents, they will happen frequently. To recap, the consulate is in San Francisco, I am in Portland with precious little time and precious little money. A plane ticket is not in the realm of financial possibilities, and who really wants to make that drive? Not I, and particularly not in my crappy 99 Saturn. Truth be told, I am actually in love with my crappy little car despite the regular jolting sensations and the permanent mystery stains on the upholstery. I warned you about the tangents. Moving along, visa applications by mail are not allowed; however, strangely enough, you are able to have another person apply at the consulate on your behalf. Luckily for me, I have family living in Napa, just an hour outside of San Francisco. In a desperate panic, I called my cousin Tara and begged for her help in the matter, and being the awesome cousin she is, she graciously agreed to help me out of the visa/consulate crisis. She kind of owes me since she used to bite me when we were kids. Epic nasty, riiiiight? All childhood grudges aside, she is saving my ass, and I am eternally grateful. So now I have sent every document known to man in an overnight delivery to Napa, California so that my visa can go through, and quickly. I am even paying an extra 30 bucks for one day rush, and this is after the ass raping fees that pile up to obtain a visa. My bank account is being pillaged. So now the waiting game begins; if all goes well, I will be on my way to China in a week and a half with a valid visa. If not, this blog may turn into my imaginative delusions about what life would have been like in China. Wish me luck.