Good Man and I ran to his school again today to make sure his F1 status was canceled. On the one hand this is a bad idea—if he’s denied a green card, he’s here illegally and has to go home. On the other hand, this is a good idea—he can go to school half-time in the fall and spring instead of taking three classes in the fall and one in the spring, and his visa restrictions are lifted, and the fact that he’s now “green card applicant” instead of “F1 visa” is probably better for his in-state tuition application. Since we have no reason to think he’ll be denied, we’ll go for the other hand.
There are plenty of stories on the internet about advisors who threaten F1 green card applicant students. “You must stay in school full time until you get your green card or I’ll report you to SEVIS!” In fact, the secretary yesterday tried telling us that he needed a green card. I told her no, and she disagreed and I finally resorted to just shaking my head. No.
This advisor, however, was not an idiot. We showed up and she said, “Oh, I have the papers you dropped off yesterday, let me do that now.” She did it in a matter of minutes. I double-checked that he doesn’t have to pay for the student insurance that will repatriate his dead body. “No, none of the F1 restrictions apply now. But do come in when you get your green card so we can mark you as a permanent resident student, OK?”
We then ran down to his bank. As an F1 student he can only have one account, no joint signers, and some government organization watches his account. (FBI? IRS? DHS?) We wanted to see if we could get those restrictions lifted and add me as his joint signer. The woman said it was possible and asked for my ID.
And that is when I discovered that my license was not in my wallet.
I started to freak out. Then I realized that it was the last thing I copied at Office Depot yesterday when we were putting together the evidence for Good Man’s in-state tuition appeal.
While I was rifling through my purse and wallet and making him rifle through the stack of papers from yesterday (still in his backpack), the woman was asking me if I was interested in switching banks and would I consider it, because they’re running a promotion where we can win a free trip to the Bahamas (or something) if Good Man refers me.
Well, the license was still at Office Depot. Thank God, because I’m an idiot.
When I got to taekwondo tonight, I forgot to put my belt on. I started to bow at the mat and remembered.
I came back to the mat with a belt on and started to run laps. Special Forces stopped me. “Amanda, your shirt,” he said, pointing. My shirt was on backwards.
When I left class tonight, I got all the way downstairs and out the front door before I remembered what I forgot. My umbrella.
Dude. Get it together, Amanda.
Class was great tonight. We did a ton of anaerobic exercises. Punch a target as hard as you can for 20 seconds. Rest for 10 seconds. Repeat. Hooks. Front kicks. Round houses. Ab rows. Push ups. In between the punches/kicks and ab work/push ups we worked on forms. I was shaking while we worked on forms. I couldn’t keep my hands still in the junbi position.