Paper Pressure

I'm not complaining.

In eleven days, the girl and I have a little appointment at immigration during which we will present in a neat, we hope, package that will prove the legitimacy of our relationship. Preparing for it has been like an organized freak's heaven. I'm not that organized, but I do like a plan and a checklist. Or three.

It's even better when the checklists match. When they tell you to bring the same things. This would, of course, have helped me avoid the last-minute surprise I got when I decided to actually read the appointment confirmation e-mail in its entirety. Right there, item No. 3, told me I was to bring a certificate from the Australian Federal Police clearing my name. Either that or proof that I've requested it. It was the first I'd seen of it.

Silly me. I figured poring over the other two checklists, put together by the actual Department of Immigration and Citizenship, was sufficient information. But I heeded the request, and printed and filled out yet another form. And as Meredith and I had planned to get the

JP's signatures on all the other documents that needed it, included a photocopy of the application for my AFP clearance in the JP's pile to sign.

Tomorrow I'll be looking through old e-mails to include with the app, as well as printing out screen shots of our e-mail inboxes going back years, as well as Skype chat log screen shots. And I'll be doing it while watching cricket -- the second test between Australia and New Zealand.

I'm not complaining. At all.