The reality is - I'm here, he's there and well...the dream of actually getting there is feeling very distant. So, let me take you back to when it all started...
The Roti Incident
Being a West Indian girl who may love a traditional English 'fish supper', roti and pumpkin will always be her favourite. Hubby often teases me that I'm spoilt by my mum when she calls me at work to ask if I'm popping in, to which I reply "er, no - did you need something?" "no, just made some roti"...I'm there in a flash.
One day Hubby says - you better learn to make that yourself; to which I took personally. Why couldn't my mum make roti for me? How dare he tell me that I can't enjoy my mum's cooking, I may be married, but there's nothing wrong with having mum's cooking once in a while...you get the picture (or should that be rant?!)
A few weeks later, Hubby explained his comment "I'm in discussions about getting a job in Boston"
Macy's, C&B, Starbucks...
It's amazing how nine words can make you forget what you were peeved about...I was so excited! Boston...really? Boston...wow...visions of a world filled with Crate & Barrel, Macy's Holiday Lane, popping into an American Starbucks to grab a tall caramel macchiato rushed forward in my mind...was it possible?
Months went by as we went back and forth with Hubby's HR department and attorney (oo-er, have to get used to these American terms). But, depsite the lengthy filling in of forms where we had to state everything from who our parents were to all the countries we visited in the last ten years - ten years? I couldn't even remember last summer's holiday let alone ten years ago!
December 24th, we sat in the American Embassy in Grosvenor Sqaure (having stayed at the Millennium Hotel - if you get a chance, stay there...very comfy beds, great shower and an excellent breakfast); I was worried that we may still be turned down; and as we sat and watched the flat screen displaying a loop of the great icons of America, I couldn't help but think ok, don't look suspicious, like a criminal, like we have connections with anyone dodgy, that we, mere English folk really do believe in the American Dream.
Forty mintues later, we stood in front of a window, having our fingerprints scanned and forms reviewed. Turns out that they weren't that interested in me after all; I wasn't the principle visa applicant, just the spouse. Ah well, I can start looking dodgy again....
...and who cares - Boston here I come!