[Insert Catch Phrase]

There was a stage in my life when I didn’t think I would ever be writing these words. I thought it would be difficult to write, or even worse, that you would be right there next to me keeping me distracted – maybe to the end.

This is my final goodbye.

I still remember when we met, many years ago when you had your tentacles wrapped around every adult in my family. Those were different times, people liked having you around. You showed up before dinner, after dinner and even sat next to me on the way to school in the mornings.

I tried to ignore you and your games, I wasn’t even allowed to talk to you, even though I saw you everyday. But you intrigued me, you were always a part of my life, and so grown up and mature. You represented the good times, enjoyment and success. Everyone said so, all the time.

But then you became destructive. Heart attacks, cancer and strokes – you started taking away the ones I loved.

Almost everyone I knew who had any contact with you had shunned you, and I started forgetting, but never stopped hating.

You are a smart one, though, a true magician and master of disguise and as I grew up you changed your form. It was no longer the images of adventures in the snow or the rugged outdoors. You graduated to the night life, and were surrounded by music and drinking.

Before I knew it, your curse had resurfaced.

My first taste wasn’t even real, I was just pretending to like you for the sake of my friends and my insecurity. That was my first mistake. My second was telling myself that one or two a night was alright. After a few months, you were costing me more than money.

I saw you everyday, every hour of every day. You woke me up early and pretended to comfort me while I stood on the cold balcony. You left your stench everywhere I went, from my car to my office. Your infection had grown to the point where I was no longer in control.

And you stayed, even though I tried to get rid of you, time after time. I thought that slowly cutting down our time together would work, but you were happy with that because you knew you still had the control.

Until now. I have been building up my strenth. You might have thought that I have just been too busy too see you over the past few weeks. Or maybe you thought I was just on another crazy exercise regime.

The reality is, I have made up my mind. I feel good now. I’m running faster and I’m running longer, I wake up in the morning without your disgusting taste in my mouth and to top it off I’m saving money.

Please don’t get a big head about this letter, it’s not intended for you, besides you never had any power other than taking advantage of my weaknesses.

This is my affirmation, my reality, and you are no longer a part of it.

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Many moons ago on the plains, tucked between the mountains to the north and the river to the south, life was easy. Very easy in fact, if you didn’t count the fact that you had to hunt for your own food and could possibly die from any kind of open sore due to infection.

Marriage was also easier. You got married (sometimes forced to) and you either got a new name and moved away, or you didn’t and you stayed right where you were.

Not so much today, at least for me.

Don’t get me wrong, this has nothing to do with the actual marriage – that’s perfect.

It’s got to do with the moving away part, and trying to stay where I am. You see, bureaucracy is a bitch, especially in this country. It wasn’t that long ago that you got married to a citizen and after a simple application you received permanent resident status and could stay and work as you wished.

But things have changed, people want to destroy this country (so I hear). Now, the process is a little more complicated. There’s still the application, but it’s doubled a few times in size. And there’s the new problem that the application is not the same for everyone. In fact there are many, many ways to arrive in the country and those all have an impact of the procedures to be followed (and they will be followed, or else).

Luckily, I’m one of the simplest cases. I have a work visa which allows me to work for a single company (my sponsoring company) for as long as I want – as long as I stop and remove myself from the land before January 2010.

This visa means that I am just one step closer to being here permanently. And that’s just because I was already in the country. For the unfortunate people who meet their future spouses outside of the 50 states, things get complicated with 90 day fiance visas, months of waiting for approval etc, etc..

Today I have, at last count, over 50 pages of filled in forms. These include the following:

1) My wife’s petition for me to stay here
2) My biometric information
3) Her biometric information
4) My application for a greencard
5) My application for a work permit
6) My application for travel document while the whole package is being processed
7) Proof of medical tests, in a secure envelope that I am not allowed to open

Plus photos, proof of marriage, copies of birth certificates. All in all, over a hundred pages. I suppose I can forgive them for taking up to 18 months (the current projected time).

The medical test was interesting, HIV, syphilis or TB would have excluded me immediately. So would any kind of heavy drug use.

A little bit hypocritical, considering that the government turns a blind eye to Mexican workers as long as they are working for under minimum wage.

But it’s all ready to send, for the measly sum of around $1500 – payable by money order only – I will be on my way to being fingerprinted, FBI checked and finally interviewed in separate rooms with my wife.

Just to get a greencard. Which apparently is white, not even green.

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Speaking of baseball, I saw my first game on the weekend of 4th July. What better to celebrate Independance Day than with hotdogs, beer and America’s favo(u)rite pasttime.

I wish I could start off by saying that everything you see on TV and the movies is entirely untrue, but I can’t. It is exactly what I expected.

Let me start at the beginning, though.

4th of July is, of course, a pretty big deal here – and this year a long weekend. So I suprised my wife with a weekend away in Tampa. Beautiful place, lot’s of beaches, little old towns dotted around and … trailer parks.

I suppose if you are going to live in a mobile home and pay nominal taxes, why not live in perpetual summer.

The weekend really was great, we went out the first night to a few clubs/bars in an part of Tampa called Ybor City. It’s much like you’d expect from New Orleans, with double story buildings with balconies lining the streets and the sound of festivities (drunk college girls) echoing from every open door.

The next day was beach day, and the big holiday. So we waited in traffic for two hours to spend another two hours on the most packed beach I have ever been on.

Done, and out of the way.

The final day, as we drove out of Tampa and towards our last stop – a quaint little town called Tarpon Springs, the most Greek populated city in the US – we saw a dome shaped stadium. The radio was on a shitty talk station and they were advertising the game that night – Tampa Bay Ray’s vs. Kansas City Royals.

So we decided to call and book two tickets. Who ever doubted my spontanaeity.

The game started at 7:10pm so we arrived at 5pm.

Parking was a cinch, mainly because events like this are well organised. The police are out, parking attendants aren’t trying to get money out of you and there are no taxis.

I always get excited at sports stadiums, no matter the sport. I love the size, the atmosphere, all of it.

And what a warm reception at this one.

It’s an indoor arena, totally covered with an unvelievably high roof. In the lobby there are restaurants, beer stands, souveneirs – and of course rows and rows of urinals – heaven. And like I said, it’s exactly what you’d expect. Fans running around in supporting jerseys, kids and adults alike with their gloves hoping to catch a long hit ball and the ever present mullet-guy hanging out at the bar.

So we found our seats, got some beer, ate some hotdogs and repeated the process a few times before the first pitch.

The national anthem was sung by some ex-army-cum-navy captain or something. He was pretty good, and I’m starting to love the patriotism here (did I just say that?).

And then the first pitch. Now comes the action. No it doesn’t!

It’s just like cricket, boring as hell – and somehow the uniforms are designed to make their wearers just a little more homosexual – it really is possible.

And like cricket, it’s not about the game, at all. The atmosphere and singing and occasional great play (which can be watched on the huge screen a few times after it actually took place) make up for it all.

Being the paranoid South African, we left a little early and got onto the road before traffic.

I still can’t believe they wear gloves to catch the ball.

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And that day started about six months ago.

Not that I’m going all chick on everyone, but I’m just feeling heavy now, heavier than I used to be. I know the causes as well.

Number 1 – the American diet stinks. It’s difficult (and expensive) to buy fresh food, plus it’s a lot easier to make a bowl of pasta at night instead of a fresh grilled salmon.

Number 2 – I’ve been married for four months. Even though my wife and I exercise together every week, I don’t have the same drive as I did when I was single to look my best. Something about regular sex does that to you.

Number 3 – I work at home, so I don’t even get my standard walk to the car twice a day. My morning commute consists of rolling out of bed and walking twenty steps to my office. That’s forty steps a day, only 9960 to go!

It only took three months in America to put on around 10kgs. I stopped exercising before and after my move, mainly due to stress and lack of a gym contract. Then I got into the lifestyle here. Before I knew it, it was too late, and I have been maintaining that weight ever since.

Now I’m n0-where near the levels where I should really worry about health problems, this is all aesthetic. My BMI is around 26, which is just over the limit but my fitness is still there. I even play volleyball two or three times a week.

I’m really not getting to a point with this either – I just wanted to put a virtual peg in the ground because today is the day I start my (strict) exercise and eating regime.

In ten minutes I will be running 5 miles on the treadmill. That will happen every work day during lunch. Three days a week after work I will be doing resistance training. One work night and one weekend day, I’ll be on the sand destroying my knees – but at least enjoying it.
So there, I’ve said it, can’t back out now.

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