I’ve noticed a pattern that has developed with the US Embassy in their correspondence to me, being that this whole trying to make a visa for my husband to come to America thing has been going on for awhile. So in January and February of a given year I am like screw you I’m busy with my own stuff and don’t want to deal with them, or they just say no as they did in early 2020 and everything pauses. In March and April I am all about my husband and in May and early June I put on my big girl pants and really try to move things forward.
I am brutally eviscerated during June and July for my audacity, and I am serially ignored. For some reason they come out in late August or September offering me a bone of hope. By October or November that has all been turned into a grinding halt of administrative bullshit and I want to go home to the USA by Christmas to start the cycle again next year.
In that August blast following the summer fuck you session, what with Covid and facemasks and high airfare and little money, my daughter has spent the last four birthdays in a row without me there. That would be her 15th, her 16th, her 17th and now her 18th. Yeah, I missed her high school graduation too. I said in May when I left that I hoped to be back with my husband by June at the latest and now, well we’re in whatever the hell this is. I pretty much assume it will last forever at this point.
Despite this all, remarkably, my daughter still talks to me. Jasmine seems to be in agreement that this is one of the worst times to be turning 18 years old in modern history. The high school graduating class of 2024 has had storm clouds on the horizon since their start in zoom school during the pandemic.
“I can say things were absolutely better when I graduated in 1997, when we believed that things were generally good despite some quirks. I don’t know how it was when your grandma graduated from high school in the early 1960’s, but I think that was a time of peace and love and the power of the young generation to make a new era.”
“I know.”
“I will not say that you had it worst than grandpa, MY grandpa I mean, when he turned 18 in 1932 during the Great Depression. That is all I can say.”
Jasmine had a lot to say to me, about the hopelessness and confusion of the times. She urged me towards understanding and forgiveness regarding what is going on with Ka’s visa and my own to stay in Thailand.
I tried to explain. “I understand that they don’t want to talk to me. They don’t even want to look at me. I’m going to tell them some sob story and they’ve heard so many. So they’re going to be saying no to something to us because administrative law blah ta bleh blah says such and such a thing. And then I’m going to say how sad or angry I am because I like to sleep with my husband at night or I want to see my children with him and they don’t want to hear that shit. It makes them uncomfortable. It makes ME uncomfortable. I don’t want to be sitting in your fucking office or your clinic as you’re demanding that I need to wear a fucking facemask and I’m trying to fumble and say no I can’t do that. Of course they’ve heard every this is life and death sob story ever.”
“And if I were them, I’d be like screw you too.” Jasmine interrupted. “I’d rather not listen to that stuff. I’d rather be thinking about anything else.”
“Of course!” I said. “It has to be horrible for them! I mean I’m sure they probably thought they were getting into it for good reasons. They were curious about people, or they wanted to help them, or wanted to find the bad guys. Mostly they probably wanted the stability of earning a steady paycheck.”
“Yeah.” Jasmine sighed. “That must be nice.”
“Then it just became some never ending grind of enforcement for the state. And meanwhile over here rich guy does whatever the fuck he wants to, or they’re supposed to ignore those suspicious looking people over there because they are with an NGO or something or they have a pass.”
“That’s what passes for work nowadays.” Jasmine sighed.
Of course it is horrible for us too. What jobs are there that don’t involve these debt fueled funds for tracking, regulating and tracing others through some type of government service? Are there any real jobs left?
My daughters makes me so proud. Jasmine took advantage of an in state free tuition program and is studying childhood development. Teachers are greatly needed and should be respected more than they are. Happy 18th birthday to her.
I sometimes have wondered how the free market turned into this heap of poisoning and killing for profit. I think at one time they had new emerging markets that they could addict to something. At this point it is simply cannibalizing people. Blowing up some power plants or grain refineries may be good for Blackrock as 20 million extra African children starve to death next year over it. But hey they made the company billions!
It’s like everything needs to be built from the ground up again.
The first sign of an impending real estate crash, according to New Housing monitor my aunt Sharon, was always a rise in the number of cancellations. In this case it could be smart money getting ahead of lowering interest rates.
I’m not saying that it has never been worse. But it has definitely been better. What would you say to an 18 year old in 2024?
Gen Z should start a meme based on the older generations having it better than them. Something like “Back in Your Day” lol.
Smile and show them photos from WW1, WW2, emphasize the devastation of Europe, Japan, Russia, etc. Tell them to make an effort to prevent a WW3 and a repeat of those past horrors. Then get them a glass of milk, a couple of cookies and together go through the family album. With each turn of a page tell them of the horrors endured by their great, or perhaps great, great grandparents. Life is what you make it.