Well hello there! Fancy meeting you here. And there. This is where you'll find me. Not all there.
Thanks for tuning in to a brand new edition of no idea where I'm going with this and nothing's planned like parenthood in America. I'm your host, @DanDays - The Luckiest Guy I Know. Before I continue because I haven't done that yet (continued), give yourselves a big round of applause for fulfilling a dream I've long dreamt of fulfilling—being in two places at the same time!
APPLAUSEIt's true. Because of you I'm in Australia and Canada, LØØK! Whaddup Finland?! I'm in Asia right now, France, Cape Town, UK and all over the States like a panel of nine judges. I'm in Venezuela, Venice, Valencia and Vadso. Nigeria knows who's in Mexico gracias!
Unlike a sexual encounter in the shower, I can't do it alone. All I ever wanted was to be in two places at the same time and look at me go. All over the place—Fuck!
That is not all I ever wanted.
I told myself I wouldn't lie to you today and in less than five paragraphs I'm worse than the weight on a womans drivers license.
I can't believe I said that! Not that. This:
All I ever wanted was to be in two places at the same time.
When really all I want is to be somewhere I don't want to leave.
Forgive me. Everything outta my mouth today is worse than a coverup in Vatican City. When I said welcome to todays edition of nothing's planned and whatever else I said, what I meant was, I'm in female dog mode today.
It happens.
Pura and I talk about it regularly. No, not that. How we're tired of being undecided, unsettled, homeless, and want our own walls where we can have dogs and paintings and mirrors and stuff.
(Continued)
We don't have kids. That's one of the things preventing our wings from being clipped. Not that I don't love kids, I do. All of my friends have some. I love them unconditionally, they love me back. They won't say a word to me until they're about seven; shy and bashful, hiding behind dad but something happens between ages six and seven—won't shut up!
Kids give reason to parking. A reason to punch the same clock, be on a first name basis with the mailman and hair dresser, CPA and grocery checker. Some provide a damn good pension too! Tom Brady for example or Victoria Beckham. Just wasn't in the cards I guess. Apparently one of me is enough. I was probably too focused on my career and retiring early. That and I didn't meet Pura until I was almost 40. I'm nearly 47 now, any thoughts of having kids are down the drain.
Retiring early is another one. As much as I tried convincing myself this wouldn't happen when I got here, it did, I was right.
When I was 19, I set my sights on collecting a pension before I turned 40. After climbing tower cranes for 22 years, I achieved my goal shortly after my 41st birthday—close enough. The only thing that concerned me was once I climbed that mountain, rather than be content, I'd get bored and glare across the valley like 'what's on that one?'
So we took off traveliving. I made that word up myself. Been at it now since the middle of 2016—traveliving. We've lived in several U.S coastal cities as well as one landlocked one back in 2020. That was a weird year. We've lived in various parts of Central and South America, some European cities and even the Middle East for a short stint before landing in England earlier this year. When we got here we had plans. Plan is a funny word.
My wife's British. Born in California but half English, her dad's from West Yorkshire. She's also pretty sick and felt comfortable with English medical attention. The plan was set up shop here; buy a house or flat or something with a yard, get a couple dogs, plant some roots, learn how to drive on the wrong side of the road and see where it goes. Then, about a week ago, I finally got a response from UK immigration regarding my spouse visa application:
Request for Indefinite Leave to Remain is denied at this time.
Mhmm.
Alright, well, that's just fucking splendid! Didn't see that coming like an elevator on mushrooms. This is our plan-b. Since she's British and we're married, we didn't plan on plan-b getting shit on. Nah, I'm not bitter at all can you tell?
We've since been looking into Europe. She really likes Greece. As do I. Unfortunately the plane ride to and from the UK could prove to be a little inconvenient. For that reason, we're considering Spain. Valencia to London is a two hour flight that runs all day long for $23. We'll be going there in October when my visitor pass expires.
Hopefully our first impression stops us in our tracks like "Yes! Here! This is it!" And we do the whole house/flat thing, dogs, roots, etcetera. From there I'd have to apply for a frequent traveler pass that would allow me to accompany her to and from England which, at this point, there's no guarantees I'd qualify. Never did we imagine gaining Spanish residency without being married to a Spaniard is easier than English residency when you are married to a Brit.
She's pretty discouraged now, understandably so. Discouraged, disappointed, some more d-words. The past week'ish we even began shopping properties in the US again. Kinda leaves a bad taste in your mouth when you up and leave everything you know to invest time and money somewhere only to learn half of you can't stay there.
Whatev. This too shall pass or however the saying goes. I didn't make that one up, heard it somewhere else. Life is a trip. It's always doing lifey things.
On that note, presuming you've consumed enough information for now that I'll likely regret sharing at some point, this concludes today's vent session. Have a nice day or night or whatever, you know what I mean. I'm gonna go dig holes in the back yard now and chase my tail for awhile.