Well, There Goes My Life of Crime

So........when we woke up this morning, there was about three inches of snow on the ground, and it kept right on coming. Perfect. One of the most important days of my life in 2009, and we're having inclement weather. Figures. Murphey's Law, and all that.

My appointment was today. My appointment at the United States Citizen and Immigration Services office in Seattle. To have my fingerprints taken.

When a semi-truck and two cars had a little tumble on I-5, I honestly thought we weren't going to make it, but we did.

They ushered us in, we went through security, I was given a number, I filled out a form, my number was called, I handed in the form, walked into a special room, was given another number, then that number was called, and some guy who couldn't have been older than 18 took my hand, and pressed the living whatever out of it, trying to get a decent scan of my fingertips.

Oh, and they took my picture. For my greencard. That was it. I don't think we were in that building more than 20 minutes. It felt a little pointless, having driven 2.5 hours (in the slush, no less) but at least it wasn't a long drawn-out ordeal. It could have been worse.

I could have been one of the people in the other line up.

The one for taking the Oath. THE Oath. I think I must have walked past more than a hundred people, all standing in one long, messy line, waiting to become citizens. And those poor employees. So few of them to manage the crowds. And guess how many of those new citizens-to-be were white.

If you guessed none, you'd be close. There might have been one or two. America really is the greatest country on earth.

Anyway, some people commented on my facebook page that it must have been really cool to have my fingerprints taken. I'm sorry to disappoint, but it didn't exactly feel like an epic moment. I mean, they don't even use ink anymore. They have a scanner, and it shows up on the computer screen.

I'm trying not to worry, because the guy told me that I might have to go back a second time, since I have scarring on the pads of my fingers, and he wasn't able to get a perfect scan every time. They won't reject me because of it, but they might ask for a "rematch", if you will.

So we wait. Wait to hear from USCIS. I'm thinking we'll know within two weeks. And I'll either have a brand spankin' new social security number, or another two-hour trip for a 20-minute appointment.

Either way, Art and I will probably celebrate by going to Denny's again, like we did today. Nothing says, "Yay, I'm in the system!" quite like a hot breakfast at 3 pm.