and so it happened, that the magnificent, syrupy waffle god* came down from heavens, placed her accepting palm on my head and said,
“yay, you be canadian now.”
and i was like, “okay”.
after around 20 months of debilitating uncertainty, thousands of dollars of money, and several piled-up aneurysm-inducing incidents that would shock even the most seasoned horror tale listener, the government of canada has finally granted me the coveted title of a permanent resident.
it sounds so much less cool than the american green card, but that’s essentially what it is. i’ve convinced canada that i’m a keeper, so i can now stay here as long as i want and do whatever i want. i don’t need to explain my comings and goings and doings to anyone anymore. how fucking spectacularly awesome is that?
and with the magical ID card that it comes with, at the airport i now get to jive walk straight past the tourist lines and go through the line marked “canadian passports” and deal with the machines that go BEEP instead of the CBSA officers that go FUCK YOU NON-CANADIAN I KILL YOU.
so that’s the sort of short version of it. the terror-inducing levels of cortisol in my system are slowly coming down. the nightmares are getting to be less alarming. life is going from panic mode to cool cat mode.
*my friend ginny and i have come to agree that this might well be the only god worth worshipping.