In her case it's the Irish embassy's bureaucracy, not British, that's screwing her over.

Oh Irish bureaucracy wins at incompetence every time.

G has already tried the sick relative route, which while not strictly true, is a bit. It didn't help apparently, and also now if someone does get really sick, it will be karma for saying it.

Makes you wonder exactly what does get you pushed up the queue for a passport. If anything at all.

Makes you wonder exactly what does get you pushed up the queue for a passport. If anything at all.

Oh well in Ireland it would be knowing someone who worked in the passport office, or knowing a politician. Either of those would get you a passport in a day. Ireland: Corruption, it's what we do.

Heh. That should be more worrying than it is. I don't know if that's the case in the UK, although it wouldn't surprise me. The old boys' club, and all that.

Seska, happy anniversary! Glad you and the Girl have each other.

Jars, good luck with the visa. Sorry about the bureaucratic fuckus.

Ah, bureaucrazy. Sorry for the frustrations. DH went to register my son in his new school yesterday. They said he needed to have our new address on his driver's license. So he went to the DMV to make that happen. 35 minutes in line to get to the info window which is required before you get to the big lines. They tell him he needs 2 official forms of ID, his existing license doesn't count. He has nothing that counts. This doesn't seem right so when he gets home he goes on line. Enters his license and social security number and pays the fee. They will mail him the license. Done in 5 minutes.

Happy anniversary, Seska. Yay for being able to celebrate with tasty orange cheese product!

Jars, that sucks! I thought America was the world leader in strangling its citizens with massive bullshit red tape, but apparently we have competition. (Yay?)

I would just like to say how unbelievably lucky I am to have a Girl who has stuck by me through thick, thin, mental and physical health issues, wheelchairs and walking aids, searches for accessible housing, job losses, benefits applications, cancelled wedding plans, laziness, grouchiness and demands to remove spiders.

Awww. That's pretty much what love is, isn't it? The pool of applicants for whom a person can conjure up romantic fuzzy feelings and/or lust is WAY bigger than the pool of people who can do that AND be willing to deal with the day-to-day (and larger) problems and stresses.

Speaking of which, we are getting ready for the funeral. Tim continues to look fucking awesome in his suit. t /shallow It's supposed to be 98 degrees here today, which, let me tell you, is just AWESOME for a church packed full of people, many of them elderly with varying degrees of infirmity, and then the gravesite in the blistering sun while we stand around WEARING BLACK.

Tim asked me last night if Jilli could send me a parasol via magic. I said I doubted it, though the devilbunny probably could if he was willing.

I briefly considered sticking an ice pack in my bra, but the only one we have is large and would be obvious, PLUS once people know it's there, they'll keep trying to hug me just to steal the cool, which WILL NOT STAND.

Actually, since the funeral mass is at 10:00, we should be relatively okay with the heat, though still not ideal.

I'm trying to eat some cereal, because otherwise I won't get to eat until noon or later. But I never eat right after I get up (I usually wait until 10:00 or so, at work), so it's tough going. Maybe I'll take a banana in the car, since I obviously don't have to worry about eating an hour before communion.

You and Tim will be in my thoughts today, Steph. Sending some cool and peaceful vibes.

I have eaten the cereal, and if I can get the fat cat off my foot, I am going to get dressed and we will head out. Gonna be a tough day.

Tim continues to look fucking awesome in his suit.

Pshaw. Not shallow, representing his mom's awesome genes.

In a bureacraxy update - I got the bus down to meet G at lunch and we called the visa office again. They've now put us on the 'urgent' list which means they'll have it sent withing 2 days, by quick post. My being there was so utterly pointless though - she asked me my date of birth, my name, and if I wanted my passport sent back. G could easily have just made one of his coworkers do that and saved me a morning of panicking. Why they needed verbal confirmation from me I still don't know.