Misadventures of a Married Military Couple

I’m contemplating renaming my blog this after the last week or so. It has been one set of misadventures after another. There was the dentist saga to start it…

You see, in order to go overseas with my husband, I have to have medical clearance. As in an actual meeting with providers where they ask about my medications and I tell them I don’t take any and they sign a form saying we’re good to go. We can’t actually get our orders cut without that form. Without orders we can’t arrange to have our belongings shipped or put in for a house at our new base. So the day after our wedding last week we went in to base to take care of it all. And on the preform to the form they asked if I’d been to a dentist in the last year.

Now, those of you who know me, know I haven’t. Because I haven’t even had medical insurance for the last year (ah the joys of being a freelance musician) much less dental insurance. I haven’t had dental coverage since highschool. But, at least I have good dental hygeine. So, because I hadn’t been in the last year, I had to have a dental appt to classify my teeth as a 1 or 2 (if they’re a 3 then we’d have to send ahead to the new base for permission for me to go) before they’d schedule my clearance meeting. Not a big deal, right? Getting in to the dentist is easy, because no one wants to go, right?

Wrong. The first ten dentists I called were booked solid for six weeks. Our RNLTD is 4 weeks away. We don’t have time to wait for that. Luckily dentist number eleven could get me in, at nine am the next morning. I go in, they approve of my teeth (though not without screwing the form up a little bit) and we rush back to the medical clearance folks. Good news they can move up our appt from Sept 2 to Aug 26! Hooray! Then we can go get orders, get TMO scheduled to get our stuff, and get a house in Germany! Hooray!

Oh wait, then they decide that my passport isn’t good enough. Not because it’s expired. Not because I changed my name (I’m not about to do that until we’re firmly settled in a country for long enough to get everything turned around) Nope, they don’t like it because it’s an honest tourist passport (TPP) that I paid for myself. (Technically my parent’s did, but that’s beside the point) Yep, I have to have a Government No Fee Passport (GNFPP) to be able to stay in Germany.

First they tell us I can’t even travel on my TPP to Germany. B was like, fine, then the military can not pay for her to move, she’ll come as a tourist and then they can pay for our “separation” because we technically aren’t living together. Even though we would be. Then they tell us I can use the TPP but that I still need the GNFPP. Not a big deal, at least I can travel with him (maybe, depending on when TMO can get our stuff).

Today was the big day for getting the passport stuff mailed off. We went in to the office, had my photos and application, our military id’s, our marriage certificate, and my birth certificate. And our agent looks at my birth certificate. Takes out his glasses and intently studies it. Then he looks at us and tells us that he doesn’t like TX birth certificates. Or CA ones for that matter. Because they don’t look official enough and sometimes the State Dept rejects them. WTF? That’s my actual, honest to goodness, issued when I was born, birth certificate. What do you mean it isn’t official enough?

So we came home, I put B back to bed because he feels horrible today, and found a vital records certificate from my home county that has a TX seal and a couple of important looking numbers. I call our agent. He asks me to bring it in. Sure enough, they like this one much better. But they keep them both. Just in case.

Hopefully Thursday will be a smooth day. But, there will prolly be more bumps in the road. It wouldn’t be entertaining if there weren’t.

~The Countess~


About texancountess

I find myself in the calming roar of the sea, floating gently on the foam of the breaking waves. Blue. Green. Gray. The colors of the sea mark the boundaries of my soul. The tumbled glass finds its polish under the relentless pounding of the waves upon the shore. Thus am I. Rough transitioning to polish, refinement ever a process, finding my niche in the storms of life.
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