Interlude: Norovirus II


Still not feeling wonderful, but had to haul myself out of the house today to drop Wump at school and Toop at daycare, and then head into town to attend my “passport interview”.

Let me tell you, since I’m sitting in a car park in Itis waiting for the opportune moment to put up my 3-hour parking ticket and jump on the metro, a little bit about how difficult it is to get paperwork done between Australia and Finland.

These are the two countries that deported me the day after my wedding. They also dicked me around on my driver’s license so I had to re-take the test here after driving in Finland for almost two years, but I don’t care about that. They’re also making it retardedly difficult for my children to get the citizenship that should be theirs automatically and free of charge by right of birth, but that’s my headache to enjoy. Oh yeah, and once they get Australian citizenship, they will have to get Australian passports because they won’t be allowed to travel to Australia on their Finnish passports despite the fact that they’re Finnish citizens. But okay.

There is no embassy or Ambassador in Finland, the closest being Stockholm and Berlin. But we have an Honorary Consul, who appears at random intervals like the Floating Market in Neverwhere, and you have to call and make an appointment and the phone is almost always voicemail. To get a passport you need the paperwork, of course, as well as new photos of yourself, and your old passport, and proof that you’ve paid the fees.

And the fees are another nutty story.

You have to pay in Swedish kronor, because all this shit happens in Sweden. To get your passport sent back (you know, rather than going to get it from Stockholm), you need to pay extra. To pay on the Internet, extra. The whole thing had to be done using an international exchange at the bank, and the receipt still hasn’t arrived because why would the bank send me a receipt – for another €5 – in less than a week?

I’m willing to bet that the printed transaction record is not going to be enough for them, and I’m either going to have to do another interview or post them the receipt.

They’re all getting the fucking Noro anyway, I’m just not going to feel very guilty about it if they fuck me around.

Screw it, they deported me. I’m not going to feel guilty about it anyway.

About Hatboy

I’m not often driven to introspection or reflection, but the question does come up sometimes. The big question. So big, there’s just no containing it within the puny boundaries of a single set of punctuationary bookends. Who are these mysterious and unsung heroes of obscurity and shadow? What is their origin story? Do they have a prequel trilogy? What are their secret identities? What are their public identities, for that matter? What are their powers? Their abilities? Their haunted pasts and troubled futures? Their modus operandi? Where do they live anyway, and when? What do they do for a living? Do they really have these fantastical adventures, or is it a dazzlingly intellectual and overwrought metaphor? Or is it perhaps a smug and post-modern sort of metaphor? Is it a plain stupid metaphor, hedged around with thick wads of plausible deniability, a soap bubble of illusory plot dependent upon readers who don’t dare question it for fear of looking foolish? A flight of fancy, having dozed off in front of the television during an episode of something suitably spaceship-oriented? Do they have a quest, a handler, a mission statement, a department-level development objective in five stages? I am Hatboy.
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1 Response to Interlude: Norovirus II

  1. stchucky says:

    Follow-up: That went fine. I didn’t even need to infect anyone with the norovirus.

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