Bienvenue
A year and like, 2-3 days ago, I embarked on the biggest journey of my life: moving to foreign ass France with my also foreign husband (HA). I didn't really know what I was doing then and, spoiler alert, I still kind of feel the same way today. Regardless, we hired a shipping company to poorly pack and very slowly ship our belongings by boat (it only took 4.5 months to arrive), organized going away parties to assemble our loved ones, and booked one-way flights to Paris. (Sorry this last detail is inaccurate; we booked round-trip tickets because they were way more cost effective, with the intent to either return to LA to wrap up some admin duties, or simply forfeit the flight.) [Pro-tip which airlines will never advertise nor endorse because money mongers.]
Few people in my life are aware that I had to leave France unexpectedly around May 2018 to take care of visa issues. I returned to LA, alone, where I battled on the daily for weeks with various government agencies to obtain my much needed carte de séjour. The very important thing that would allow me to stay in FR for a year and then apply for residency. It was a weird hiccup in time where I felt embarrassed for sneaking back into my own town without a majority of people knowing. It's like I didn't exist during this two-ish month period. This is all relevant to illustrate that my move abroad has not been a) smooth and b) a true full year.
The blip in time when I was back in LA was a Twilight Zone of confusion and the unknown. At the mercy of bureaucracy, Thomas and I weren't sure how long we'd be apart. Which is in part reason why I didn't send a mass text with exclamation points that I was back stateside. We didn't want to be reminded of our distance, so the less we referred to it, the more manageable it felt. It was pretty depressing. But that shit part of this move saga is over, thankfully.
For now, let's just recognize the start of my official move when I returned to FR in July, since that's when the french gov deems the start of my legal long-stay. More accurately it was a big move one year ago, being plucked away for an unforeseen business trip three months in, and then a return to my new home.
Everyone knows that moving is a fucking headache. When you're doing it across the globe while trying to smooth out all the wrinkles left behind by incompetent government workers, it adds a layer of stress I didn't know existed. I met nearly everyone in Sacramento thanks to countless hours of being on the phone, babbling through tears during these calls. A couple of them did favors for me, an annoying distraught stranger, because their colleagues had failed me with their oversights. I never truly understood the pains of bureaucracy until I got married and tried to get a long stay visa. TL;DR: it sucks.
This is all starting to sound like a confessional. Really it's just a setup for a timeline that might not be significant to anyone but me.
Anyway, here I am. A consecutive seven month stretch of expat life. Which commences the second phase of 'shit' parts about being abroad. Haha, JK. Kind of. Seven straight months of being in France does mean I finally have some concentrated time to get situated. Take in the surroundings. Encounter curious situations. Meet new people. Start french classes. Eat so many baguettes. Question life choices. Etc.
If you're reading this, it's likely because you're my friend. I've avoided writing about myself because it feels fucking weird, but it gets lonely here plus scheduling FaceTime phone calls with various people on the reg is a difficult task. Hopefully you'll stick around and along with me while I navigate this edition of my "NEW LIFE WHO DIS?" in France.
BISES XX
Few people in my life are aware that I had to leave France unexpectedly around May 2018 to take care of visa issues. I returned to LA, alone, where I battled on the daily for weeks with various government agencies to obtain my much needed carte de séjour. The very important thing that would allow me to stay in FR for a year and then apply for residency. It was a weird hiccup in time where I felt embarrassed for sneaking back into my own town without a majority of people knowing. It's like I didn't exist during this two-ish month period. This is all relevant to illustrate that my move abroad has not been a) smooth and b) a true full year.
The blip in time when I was back in LA was a Twilight Zone of confusion and the unknown. At the mercy of bureaucracy, Thomas and I weren't sure how long we'd be apart. Which is in part reason why I didn't send a mass text with exclamation points that I was back stateside. We didn't want to be reminded of our distance, so the less we referred to it, the more manageable it felt. It was pretty depressing. But that shit part of this move saga is over, thankfully.
For now, let's just recognize the start of my official move when I returned to FR in July, since that's when the french gov deems the start of my legal long-stay. More accurately it was a big move one year ago, being plucked away for an unforeseen business trip three months in, and then a return to my new home.
Everyone knows that moving is a fucking headache. When you're doing it across the globe while trying to smooth out all the wrinkles left behind by incompetent government workers, it adds a layer of stress I didn't know existed. I met nearly everyone in Sacramento thanks to countless hours of being on the phone, babbling through tears during these calls. A couple of them did favors for me, an annoying distraught stranger, because their colleagues had failed me with their oversights. I never truly understood the pains of bureaucracy until I got married and tried to get a long stay visa. TL;DR: it sucks.
This is all starting to sound like a confessional. Really it's just a setup for a timeline that might not be significant to anyone but me.
Anyway, here I am. A consecutive seven month stretch of expat life. Which commences the second phase of 'shit' parts about being abroad. Haha, JK. Kind of. Seven straight months of being in France does mean I finally have some concentrated time to get situated. Take in the surroundings. Encounter curious situations. Meet new people. Start french classes. Eat so many baguettes. Question life choices. Etc.
If you're reading this, it's likely because you're my friend. I've avoided writing about myself because it feels fucking weird, but it gets lonely here plus scheduling FaceTime phone calls with various people on the reg is a difficult task. Hopefully you'll stick around and along with me while I navigate this edition of my "NEW LIFE WHO DIS?" in France.
BISES XX
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