APPROVED

That was what was stamped on Andrew's green card application today, after our final interview. Today was the big day, the day when we would finally found out if all the fees, time filling out forms, and paying more fees was worth it. We woke up early so that we could drive into Baltimore with lots of time to spare. There were dire warnings that if we did not show up for the appointment (which they scheduled at time convenient for them) our application would be considered withdrawn. Before we arrived, we admitted to each other that we were both a little nervous. Not 'taking your qualifier' or 'meeting your future mother-in-law' nervous, but the anticipatory feeling was definitely there.

I don't think the government is actually attempting to create a tense atmosphere, but they have succeeded. Before you are allowed to enter a federal building, you have to go through security. No problem. Except they didn't have nearly enough screeners, so a line builds up outside the building. By the time we left, there were over fifty people standing outside in the below-freezing weather, waiting to be allowed into the door. So that they could wait in line to be screened. And then wait in line to be called into a room, to hear their fate.

Andrew forgot about a pocketknife that he carries on his key chain, which didn't help speed our progress through security. As the security guard explained that Andrew would have to take the knife to the car or at least out of the building, we discovered that we have different approaches to dealing with authority. When things get tense, Andrew tends to challenge authority, whereas I tend to become the ingratiating supplicant.

The interview wasn't too bad, although Andrew misremembered my birthday. The official didn't make any outward comment (she was looking at the correct answer on the form) but I was cringing inside, thinking, "We've failed!" And then, in answer to her question about how our relationship progressed, I mentioned the later part of our dating past when I "frequently harassed him to marry me." I didn't mean for it to come out quite like that.

But now we're done! The official stamped APPROVED in big red letters on the form, and when the green card arrives in the mail there might be a bottle of champagne, waiting to celebrate it.