*facepalm*

There are no words to describe how I feel at this moment in time. I’ve been betrayed by my government, and the relationship that has spanned nearly half my life has been called into question. I don’t expect perfection from anyone, but for the love of bacon why can’t we count on a certain level of competence from people that have the power to change lives? In my last post I spoke of mistakes; I acknowledge that we are all wrong from time to time and I consider errors to be a part of the learning process. The problem is, you can only learn from your mistakes if you acknowledge their existence in the first place.

I’m sure by now you’re wondering what blunder was committed that has me so upset. As you might recall I received a case update regarding the I-130 petition that said initial processing, a status which made me quite angry. The USCIS has rescinded the approval of our I-130 petition pending an interview with them. I understand that there was a breakdown in the process and that our petition was approved after a swift kick in the ass from Senator Franken, but this is almost too much. It is the policy of the USCIS to interview every couple that files the I-130 petition while the beneficiary is in removal proceedings, or if the couple has been married less than 2 years at the time of filing. Alberto and I had only been married 3 months when the I-130 was filed, in the midst of his removal proceedings, so you see there is a reason for this development.

Really?

As if I wasn’t already annoyed enough, I received the following email from the USCIS case status system:


Application Type: I130, IMMIGRANT PETITION FOR RELATIVE, FIANCE(E), OR ORPHAN

Your Case Status: Initial Review

We transferred your I130, IMMIGRANT PETITION FOR RELATIVE, FIANCE(E), OR ORPHAN, to your local USCIS Office for further processing. The new office has jurisdiction over your case and will send you a decision as soon as processing is complete or you will be notified if further information or action is needed. If you move, please use our Change of Address online tool to update your case with your new address.

If you have questions or concerns about your application or the case status results listed above, or if you have not received a decision from USCIS within the current processing time listed*, please contact USCIS Customer Service at (800) 375-5283.

*Current processing times can be found on the USCIS website at www.uscis.gov under Check Processing Times.

*** Please do not respond to this e-mail message.

Sincerely,

The U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS)

Delay of Game

In effort to give my child summer memories that she will hopefully look back upon fondly, I signed Ashley up for Summer Power and Day Camp through our local YMCA. Summer Power went as expected, she got to go on fieldtrips and made new friends while in a safe environment that was significantly cheaper than Preschool. We did have a few behavioral issues the first few weeks, but I’m hoping that this transition from Preschool to Summer Power will help her make a smooth transition into Kindergarten. I have a meet the teacher and Kindergarten orientation event coming up that I need to be prepared for. I had been watching the advertisements for the last month to see who would offer the best deal on the supplies she is responsible to bring to school on her first day. In the end I still ended up going to Target, and I’m sure that my $20 was well spent. I need to start going through her clothing and weed out the items that are too small and supplement whatever is left with a well-timed shopping trip to Once Upon a Child. I honestly don’t know what I would do without my neighborhood second-hand stores; I only wish they had more selection for women my size.

I swear that if I had the money I would quit my job and make it my mission in life to harass the USCIS into compliance. Our attorney went to an InfoPass appointment earlier this week and was told that our file was in Minnesota for nearly a year before being transferred out to the California Service Center near the end of April. Our file then spent its summer vacation lazing on the beach in the California sun under review where just last week it was referred for a special internal review due to ‘security reasons’. At this time our file is still in California under this special review. If nothing else this appointment served to show that a band of rabid chimpanzees are more organized than the USCIS on a good day.

Pity Party at Table 1

Ever look at one of those posters with all the cartoon facial expressions and just want to set it on fire because there is no little cartoon expression for how you're feeling today?  No?  Must just be me then.

And then I got mad. I got terribly MAD.

Today I received an email from the Customer Assistance Office (CAO) which I believe is in response to the inquiry that I submitted to the CIS Ombudsman (CISOMB) office. The email simply stated that the response to my inquiry was attached, but I felt my heart stop when I saw the title of one of the two attachments. Obviously I opened the attachment titled “MENDEZ_DENIAL_NOTICE” first because I needed to know what the denial was in regards to. I was beyond relieved when I saw that it was nothing more than a copy of the original notice we received back in July 2012, so I opened the second attachment to see what response the government sent me that required a copy of the denial notice. The letter read something like this:

Surviving with only Half a Heart

At first I wasn't going to talk about the last few days we were in Mexico or the pure misery of going to the airport the morning we left, but I realize now that I need to talk.  I need to mourn the loss of the physical connection that I so desperately need, and in order to mourn I need to feel once again.  Living for a week completely numb to the pain and horrible sense of loss was necessary to my survival.  I will live my life one day at a time, knowing that I can begin setting money aside with the hope that I can see my love again for Christmas.

#$^%ing Tuesdays

You know how I hate Mondays right?  Well, I loathe Tuesdays with every ounce of my being because anything bad that could happen will happen on a Tuesday.  Murphy’s Law is the guiding principle on a (tues)day in the life of Deza.  That’s why I try to move through the day pretending it’s either Monday or Wednesday; if I don’t think Tuesday thoughts, I might make it out unscathed.  This Tuesday I was not so successful.

At FedEx this morning I managed to take a 30 pound box to the head, with the corner of said box missing my right eye by a matter of inches.  I may develop a shiner yet, but if I do it’ll be so pitiful that people will think it’s a makeup malfunction.  Even if I managed to get a black eye everyone who knows me would assume there was a mildly amusing story behind it since Deza isn't the sort of person that gets into fist fights or bar brawls.  The most impressive bruise I’ve had to date was a rather detailed rendition of a tire tread on my thigh, which was refreshing since I actually knew what would have caused that particular contusion when typically I have no clue how the injury occurred.  Normally I put it down to the fact that I’m hilariously uncoordinated and have the unique ability to trip on a line drawn with chalk on the ground.

Decision 2012

So much for getting some sleep...  Here's a better rundown of the events of the day:

At 3pm today I received an email from the constituent services representative of Senator Franken’s office, Diana that the USCIS had notified them that a notice was mailed today.  USCIS did not let Diana know what the notice said.  I managed to get myself excited at the potential meaning of the notice.   I forwarded the email to Graciela and she responded that she was on pins and needles waiting to see what it would say.  I was floating on cloud nine thinking about all the good things that notice could say.

At 4:30pm I received the email regarding the new case status and saw that a decision had been made on the I-485 (Application to Register Permanent Residence or Adjust Status).  I’ll let you read for yourselves…

Empty Words and Broken Dreams

I hate waiting.  I don’t want to hear about how patient, strong, and wonderful I am.  I don’t want to hear how brave I am to do this all on my own.  I don’t want to hear any of these empty words that praise me for staying alive in this God awful situation.

So you think I’m patient?  I’m sure if you went through my posts you could find multiple examples of the times I’ve flipped the fuck out because I surpassed my maximum tolerance for stress, or the death-grip I have on my emotions snapped like an overstretched elastic band.  Honestly it doesn’t take much anymore.  I’m sure Lance has many stories he could relate, but even he hasn’t seen or heard everything.  I’m too internal of a person to tell one person every single thing I think or feel.  Alberto is the only person that I never hid myself from.

I’m strong because I have no choice.  What good would it do to fold myself into a ball and weep copiously for what has been lost?  Who, in my situation, has the time to be weak and what kind of mother would I be to Ashley if she couldn’t count on her Mamí to always be there?  Alberto needs me to be strong when in the past he was always my rock.  I am desperately trying to hold myself together.  I’m trying to cover the hole in my bleeding heart that may never heal.  Should I let those bitter tears run down my cheeks whenever someone I know gets engaged, married, pregnant, their dream job, a degree, or even just goes to the movies with their loved ones?  Being weak wouldn’t change a single damn thing about this nightmare I live in.  No amount of tears or begging on my knees would ever bring my husband home to us, and the cost would be my self-respect.  I will not allow the government to take my family away from me just because my husband wasn’t born on this side of an arbitrary line in the dirt.

Cruel and Unusual Punishment

Today I am praying for the strength to get me through what is yet to come.  My very soul is battered and weary of this never ending battle which makes me wonder if I will ever feel whole again.  As of late I have been brusque and short-tempered when it is not normal for me to be this way.  Actually that’s not entirely true since this is an accurate description of my temperament before I met Alberto.  I only have myself to blame for my pessimistic bender this past week, and I have only myself to count on to pull it together again.

Early in the week I was already beginning to get irritable, but I only noticed it on Friday.  Brian was supposed to go to the jail will me to visit Alberto to learn more about the night in question.  This was going to be the first time I had ever physically been in the same room as Alberto within touching distance in over a year.  I was looking forward to being able to actually hold my husband’s hand!  Then about an hour before I was to leave work, I received an email from Brian complaining about his throbbing headache and how we would be better off going on Sunday.  I don’t know how to describe the pain that this simple email inflicted on me, but I wrapped my disillusionment into a tight ball and somehow resisted the urge to be sarcastic or biting in my response.  I suggested that Brian go lie down in a dark quiet room and nap for an hour.  My own migraines, which feel like a rusty hacksaw rendering my brain into minuscule pieces, can only be cured by a complete and total mental shutdown.

A fairy tale? Probably not...

Once upon a time, in the land of ten thousand lakes, there was a mostly unhappy teenage girl.  Although it is fairly common to be an unhappy teenager, this particular girl could not remember ever being mostly happy.  This girl had always felt alone, even when in the company of the few people she considered friends.  She was a target of school bullies for being overweight, socially awkward, and tall since the very beginning of middle school.  The worst part is that this mostly unhappy teenage girl was me.

In effort to get me out of the house during non-school hours, my mother suggested that I find a part-time job.  The options were limited near our house for someone my age; however I applied and was hired at McDonalds while I was in September of 2000.  I had no idea just how much that battered brick building was about to change my life.