Washing Up
Some years ago, I registered my real name as a .com domain, under which I wrote a personal blog. Nowadays this would be considered a spectacularly silly thing to do. Unless you are a celeb, or at least someone who is using a site to promote themselves and their ideas, it's always better to blog at least semi-anonymously. It's ok to point friends and family to it, but you never know when a prospective boss, say, might search for your name and find a foaming-mouthed rant about your current workplace, or even just evidence that your personal tastes or politics are at odds with their own.
The Internet was younger and more innocent back then, of course. Something of a niche hobby. Even mentioning that you had an email address would be enough for most people to scoff and call you a geek. But as time went on everyone and their granny got on the net, and having my name plastered all over an online journal, no matter how innocent its content, began to seem less and less like a good idea. In addition to which, the blog at myrealname.com had attracted a number of trolls who liked to hang out in the comments and post abuse. A change of domain was therefore required.
I didn't really spend an awful lot of time coming up with washing-up.co.uk. I could probably have thought of something better, but my criteria were less than exacting. It was semi-abstract, available, and didn't contain my real name. In addition to which, it was a sly dig at my other half, who steadfastly refuses to take a turn at a particular household chore.
There was another reason for choosing it. We were also thinking, at the time, of moving to another country, and I thought that if anyone asked me what the domain meant, I could explain that it was because I didn't know where I would "wash up", and feel very smug and clever.
Except nobody did. And I never blogged about moving.
Part of the reason for not blogging about it was because, for all of my best intentions, this blog was never really anonymous. Oh, I was careful to scrub every mention of my real name from it, but Google pagerank is too smart for that, and washing-up.co.uk is now the #1 hit for my name. At least I shook off the trolls for a while. But in any case, I didn't much want to accidentally tip-off work that I was planning on upping-sticks and leaving, nor go into detail about something that looked from time-to-time that it wouldn't happen at all.
But now, it looks like it really is. The three of us are planning on hopping the pond and setting up home in Texas. And soon. Scarily soon.
We began the process of applying for my visa about two years ago. This is never rapid, but it was hindered by a combination of laziness and uncertainty on our part, and plain old bad timing. The final task that has to be performed in order for me to get a visa to live and work in the US, is for me to attend an interview at the US Embassy in London, accompanied only by a thick bundle of complex paperwork. I was initially given an appointment for last April, but the visa, once issued, has to be used within six months, and with R heavily pregnant we really didn't think we could orchestrate a move in that time. After informing the embassy of this, we were told that we would receive an alternative appointment. When it finally arrived, it was for a date on which we would be in the States for Christmas. Appointment number three came, and is on Wednesday.
Our original plan was to sell our flat before R had the baby, and move to rented accommodation that we could drop as soon as my visa was ready. Thanks to the knackered economy and dead housing market, this never happened. However, just before Christmas we were made an offer on the flat, approximately the same time as my visa appointment letter arrived. Ahead of us, then, is a mad scramble to move out of the country at the same time as moving out of our home. Providing the god of bureaucracy smiles upon me and grants my visa, of course. (Which is, worryingly, not guaranteed. Although I think we have everything in order, I have heard horror stories.) Even though we started planning this two years ago, it seems like it's all happening very quickly, as though we've been on that first part of a roller-coaster where you are winched slowly to the top of a steep hill before being nudged over the edge.
There is much I will miss about Glasgow, and Scotland in general (including many friends), and the pros and cons of moving have been chewed over again and again. The clincher is, simply, that I have lived here for 33 years and I have the opportunity to have a go at living in a foreign country - and easy as it is to forget, America really is a foreign country - so why the hell not? If I don't, I'll always wonder "what if?" Fortunately the nature of the work I do means that I can do it anywhere there's an internet connection, so I will be keeping my job when we move and working from home. I think this scares me more than anything - will I go completely batshit insane without all those other faces around every day and a commute to ensure that I get out of the house? Fortunately, the interwebs really do make the world a smaller place and there's no longer any good excuse to lose contact with a friend no matter where you live. In addition to which, I may well be back in Glasgow on business once in a while. (Or with my tail between my legs if I cannae hack it.)
Progress will be blogged and Twittered of course. Wish us luck!
3 Comments:
How exciting, good luck! :)
By
alice, at 1:54 PM
wow, it's all really happening! you can be our first proper US diskant correspondent. sorry I haven't seen much of you guys lately - you better be having a farewell bash.
By
marceline, at 3:23 PM
We'll certainly be having some kind of get-together. Quite possibly in the form of an "everything must go" sale of all our furniture and electrical items.
By
Alex M, at 3:27 PM
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