"YEAH, YOU'D THINK."

I don't even know where to start because a lot has happened but also nothing has happened at all. This is my first entry for all of June because, like I said, nothing has really happened worth noting.

Czech bureaucracy has worn me down to the point of tears. The immigration and employment processes seemed fairly streamlined and straightforward when viewed on a website. But when you're having to go from one brutalist building to another to ensure the concrete ship is being ran tightly while being forced to hand over the wheel to someone else, it can become extremely discouraging. 

To be more specific, I'm having to do a lot of the work myself. You might be thinking "oh poor you, Liz. You LIVE in Europe, how can that be so complicated and exhausting?" Because I can't trust anything anyone tells me. Usually when you speak with someone directly from the government, you have some some faith that you're being told an official, correct answer. Between the information I get from the Ministry of Interior, my new job, their respective websites, and the faceless person who may or may not communicate effectively with me via email, something is always left out, I receive four different answers to the same question, or I get information too late that would have been much helpful at an earlier point. As a result, this poorly oiled stroj has made any attempt at planning ahead, organizing a schedule, or getting any kind of clear answer to do so next to impossible. 

Here's a "quick" timeline of 2018 so far:

January 27:

Got hired at new job pretty much immediately. Woohoo! This means applying for an employee card, a two year "visa" that allows me to legally work for a business in the Czech Republic as opposed to using my trade license and a long-stay visa through a term of one year.

January 27 through March 27:

Gather certified documents, translations, and degrees to apply for employee card. I find out my start date at work is April 23.

March 23:

I give notice at my teaching job as I must notify my employer more than 60 days out if I have the intention of leaving my position.

April 9:

Apply for employee card at Ministry of Interior. I'm told this process should take six weeks. I pay an administration fee of 1500 crowns but I have to use government issued stamps as, I quote, "bribes are still a problem here."

April 23:

I'm pushed back at my job until May 14 as my employee card is still processing. I get a letter from the Ministry of Interior saying I need to come in with a certified Czech translator for an interview on May 10.

May 10:

My interview with the Ministry of Interior is centered around me switching from my trade license to an employee card. A ton of questions ensue about my assets in the Czech Republic, how I spend my time freelancing, why I will no longer be teaching at an accredited institution, and why I applied for the job. 90 minutes later, they tell me I could be approved as soon as Monday or by the end of the following week.

May 11:

My last day at my teaching job. I quit at this time because I was under the impression I would be working that Monday.

May 14:

I'm not approved and my start date at my job is pushed back to June 11. 

May 17:

Receive a phone call from the Ministry of Interior my application for an employee card was approved. I'm told I'll receive an official copy in the mail within ten days so I can formally confirm with my employer. I am given a date, June 27, to come into the Ministry of Interior for biometric data to be included on my employee card, 13 days after my supposed start date. The person who calls me tells me I can start work even if I don't have the card in hand.

May 22:

Because my employer wants to conduct a medical check, as in an exam making sure I can actually do the job I was hired to do, I meet with a doctor who doesn't know me. He determines that because I have Type 1 diabetes, I might be a risky hire. I'm given a test tube to pee into as I have to provide my own sample (or anyone's) and meet with another doctor assigned to my employer on May 24. 

May 24:

The second doctor doesn't ask for my urine sample. I record this conversation as I have now learned I can't trust what anyone tells me. She agrees that I might be a risky hire because I have Type 1 as well as depression. My case is sent over to a board of directors in Prague to review and my endocrinologist is called to confirm my diabetes is being successfully managed and I have zero complications as a result. She doesn't ask for my urine test and I then realize I basically could have lied about the whole thing because no one was going to bother to check or follow up with me. She then stammers with me for ten minutes while I ask her what is it exactly about my disease that prevents me from working my job. I leave with no answer.

June 1:

My medical check is approved but I haven't received any information in the mail that I can show my employer I can start work on June 11. 

June 11:

I don't start my job. Turns out I can't work unless I have the actual card printed and in my hand.

June 12:

My employer pushes me back until July 23. My employer tells me there might be a possibility I can start on July 16, but no one confirms this. 

June 27:

I go to the Ministry of Interior to get my picture taken and get fingerprinted for my employee card. I am told I can pick up the card on Tuesday, July 17. I notify my employer my card will be ready to pick up on said date.

June 28:

My employer tells me I can start on July 16, but they can't tell me if I can work without the physical card in hand or if I am able to take time in the middle of the following day to pick up the card. I sit in bed and write this post. As of yesterday, this has now taken six months.

The Czech Republic is a weird place. In some areas you'd think it would be incredibly advanced but in other areas, it doesn't add up. The main example I use is with our debit cards. Across CZ we can use a "contactless card," meaning I no longer have to swipe it and I can just tap the card on a receiver and my purchase goes through. Not a lot of banks have instituted this technology in the United States so it's kind of a one up. 

However, the main branch of my bank is in central Brno, and if I want to take money out or deposit money, I have to pick a number like it's the fucking DMV and wait until I'm called to then tell a real person how much money I want to deposit or withdraw. So the technology is great...but the automated system overall is not updated or consistent.

The major thing I have learned in the past nine months since I've been here is that expecting all of the bureaucracy to go seamlessly is ridiculous. The first tip I should have noticed this at is that for me to apply for a visa in the Czech Republic, I had to go to Berlin, Warsaw, Vienna, or Bratislava. I had to leave the country to apply to stay in the country which I came from. I thought it would be...easy.

Not only has the process been long, annoying, and every level of frustrating, it's been emotionally taxing. Because of the delays in my job, I had to back out of Edinburgh Fringe as I thought I'd be able to take time off in August if I had started on time. I lost my deposit I put towards a bed in a shared flat and my flight didn't get refunded. Overall I lost about $500 on this, money I could have put towards a deposit on a new flat or used for airfare to fly home and visit. There were times where I thought I could have gone home for a week, but because I couldn't trust any of the information being told to me, I couldn't risk being out of the country during a time where something might change...again. This process has affected my stand up, my family time, my creative drive, and my determination to be a real person.

My main "character defect" is patience, as AA told me. I don't have it. I don't know what to do with it when I do have it. I absolutely hate not having the answers to questions I have. My dad told me a story a few weeks ago where he was watching me when I was about age 2. He took these magnetic alphabet letters we had off the fridge and put them in front of me to spell different basic words. My dad would put the word out in front of me and say "cat!" while he'd point to Jake or Elwood, named after the Blues Brothers. I picked it up fairly quickly, but once the letters were scrambled, I didn't do well. He put the word "cat" with the letters out of order in front of me. I was getting agitated because I knew all the letters were there but I didn't know what to do to make it say "cat." I became inconsolable, crying and saddened, a two-year-old only wanting the answer that couldn't be given to me.

I've been too depressed and angry to write this post and part of me didn't want to let everyone know how I was doing. A lot of the complications are hard to explain to someone who hasn't gone through it themselves. For six months I've been trying to create some semblance of a schedule or routine, but I haven't had that. I sleep from 3am until 3pm. I've watched a lot of sitcoms and my YouTube history is full of conspiracy-related time holes. I try to do one thing a day, whether that's a load of laundry or checking. I cried myself to sleep last night because I really don't want that much: I just want my tiny apartment, my cat, and my job. 

I've been looking at other flats because the one I'm in now is excessive and I'm paying for a lot of space I don't use. I went to look at a place in a panelak, a panel style building constructed in the former Czechoslovakia, and I fell in love with it. On the top floor with no one living above me, the windows looked out over the hillsides and industry of the city. I had a deck with windows that could be pulled aside in the summer for fresh air. The bathroom was brightly lit and there was sample storage space for the items I don't have. The kitchen was pristine but not sterile. With two major tram lines and five major bus routes at the bottom of the building, I'd have easy access to the job I have yet to work and the rest of the city, but being up thirteen stories, you couldn't hear anything and it was reassuringly quiet.

The weather has been cold and 50ish. It rained all night so when my hometown weather is upon me, I use it as an excuse to not go out. "Well at least I'm not spending any money!" I think to myself as I restart Brooklyn 99 and eat a tortilla for dinner. I cried myself to sleep last night because I honestly thought it wouldn't be this hard. I've put in the effort, made appointments, showed up on time, filled out the right forms, certified and translated all my documents correctly, followed up with phone calls and emails, and I still feel like I failed. Why is it that the Czech system is so backwards but I'm the one who feels like she failed? I don't want to sit here and be like "Yeah man the system, man...it's just the system out to get us" but really I don't think people realize how much easier these processes could be. I'm definitely spoiled coming from the US, but you'd think some changes would be implemented given that so many immigrants and foreigners are going through these exact same steps just to get a well paying job in a different country on a daily basis. At what point is it not worth it anymore?

And the worst part of all of this: the United States is so fucked up right now, I feel like I can't go home, even if I wanted to. Do I try to do best with the cards given to me in CZ or do I risk not having access to certain human facets at home? Do I have a home right now? I feel like I can't go home. 

A lot of this is me simply rambling but I'm realizing it's a pretty accurate example of the state I'm currently in: I'm lost with no organized timeline and I can't trust anyone. 

Red Pill vs. Blue Pill

Woo! My visa has been approved! 

With a long stay visa, I'll be legal to work in the Czech Republic for the next year. I have a few more bureaucratic things to take care of in regards to getting paid, but the waiting and the hard part is over. A year from now, I'll need to reapply for two years after I prove I'm able to support myself being independently employed with my trade license. The schools I currently work for allow me to teach as a contractor, meaning I'm responsible for my own taxes, health insurance, and future visa processes. 

It's a huge relief. I've heard these horror stories of messy visa applications with different contracts and the length of stay available to expats and so far I've done my best to avoid that. One of the complicated things about visas is that no one situation applies to everyone. While I was doing research before I left the US, I was getting an insane amount of misinformation from people who assumed I was from the EU or that I was already a Czech resident but not a Czech citizen. CZ separates expats and their rights by where they come from. For instance, members from the EU, people from the UK, Americans, Australians, Canadians, and other citizens labeled "third country nationals" all require a different visa process to apply for residency or for work. My dear friend KD swooped in during June of last year to alert me to her existing troubles as an American abroad. She highlighted details given to me that were incorrect and struggles she encountered both in CZ and abroad to steer me in the right direction. I'm infinitely thankful for her and I couldn't have completed this exodus without her. She's also been extremely real with me in that she explains things about Czech bureaucracy with no sugar coating. I'd rather someone be up front with me and be brutally honest than leave me in the dark to figure out these processes on my own. The truth can hurt, but it makes for good progress in the future. 

Prior to receiving the email regarding my visa approval, I went to my first therapy appointment since October. I had done some research about who to contact before leaving the United States but hadn't bothered to contact anyone until about two weeks ago. Therapists generally don't take health insurance in CZ and just do a flat rate for one hour, which alleviated me trying to find someone who takes my non-existent insurance but won't break my back. In USD, prices average out to about $20/hr. In the past, my therapists have been anywhere from included in the cost of my health insurance or their rates were north of $130/hr. There also seems to be a sliding scale with bilingual therapists where the cost is lower in Czech but a few more crowns if you require an English speaker. 

Bretislav is a mix of Hopper from Stranger Things and a Czech version of Dr. Frasier Crane. I had seen his picture online when I was looking for therapy options in 2017 and like a lot of comedians I know, they look incredibly different from the professional headshot they've loosely been relying upon for a number of years. He listed his credentials and his areas of expertise, which is important when seeking out therapy. Two years ago I had made the mistake of going to therapy with someone who wasn't keyed in about addiction, the recommended treatment involved, and the after effects of staying sober. I ended up having to explain a lot of facets of AA and how the recovery system works, which was fine, but needing to contextualize addiction within my anxiety and depression proved to be fairly difficult. I was relieved to see Bretislav specialized in all three areas. 

We emailed back and forth about finding a time to meet and I met him at his office. His entire workspace was larger than my last apartment in Seattle. Fifteen foot high ceilings (or roughly four meters?) and tall windows allowed for a lot of natural light to be complemented by bright hardwood floors and off-white walls. He had two IKEA swivel accent chairs facing each other with a coffee table separating them. Books in Czech and English and plants I assumed were fake decorated his bookcases. After seeing the entire arrangement, I went into design mode and mentally reorganized his space with my belongings to my liking. The space would photograph well. 

Bretislav sat across from me with a pen and a legal pad. I've been trying to figure out where the fuck to get yellow legal pads in Brno since I've arrived but I was determined not to be distracted during our first meeting. He asked me a few basic questions and explained that there are some complexities in the English language he may not understand so there's a chance I'll need to clarify on occasion. I've had to do this a lot in CZ since I've arrived and doing it for the person treating me for my emotional free-for-alls didn't seem like too much to ask since he'll need to understand me on multiple levels. I talked about where my issues stemmed from: my parents' divorce, dating men I shouldn't as a result, alcoholism, mentally taxing diabetes care, feelings of inadequacy, running away from my problems and my severe fight or flight instinct, and the general idea that I am not enough and I never have been. Of course a lot of these things are going to take longer than 50 minutes to delve into, especially when talking at half the speed I normally talk to ensure no one is lost in translation. 

Because it had been so long since I've spoken to an impartial party, it became overwhelming to not leave out any details about why I scheduled an appointment. I wanted Bretislav to know everything immediately so he could stamp a diagnosis on me or lend me resources to curb the things I've been told are wrong with me, my faults, criticisms, and critiques. I explained how a recent text from an ex-boyfriend threw me for a loop of would have/could have/should have hypotheticals and how it has led me to second guess a decision my mom once deemed "dramatic." From what I understand, a lot of expats experience this phenomenon. Moving abroad is easily the biggest decision we've ever made, maybe behind on deciding which university to attend or other life struggles I'm unaware of. We start to examine all of the different paths our lives have taken, what prompted us to pack up everything important, sell whatever wasn't important, and uproot ourselves from the life of familiarity we no longer desired. 

But this wasn't just a "well maybe if I wasn't so irrational, we'd be married" situation. This was a "maybe I should have continued my studies in Art History and applied for graduate school abroad" situation or a "maybe I should have picked a profitable major and ignored all of my creative impulses so I'd be rich but boring" possibility. It wasn't the text I received at 4am; it was all of these paths culminating into a Czech nexus of uncertainty. I'm happy I'm here and I'm happy I made the decision to move. It feels selfish from time to time, but ultimately the path I'm on right now seems to outweigh all of the others, and the part that bothers me the most is never knowing what could have happened if I took a different path, leading me to feel guilty and ashamed.

I tried to explain all of this to Bretislav in the five minutes remaining in our appointment and he politely reminded me that if I decide to move forward with his services, we'll have plenty of time to discuss the events and neuroses which make me a human being. After all, whatever has happened will stay that way. Things that have happened to me can't erase themselves no matter which country I run to. Sometimes I wonder if I didn't move east enough. Instead of being nine hours ahead of Seattle, I should be 14 hours ahead and living in a yurt with a dirt floor and a couple who does all of their hunting with a trained eagle out on a vast steppe. But choosing to live in a yurt means little to zero access to insulin, so here we are in Brno.

It's been an emotional week. Now that my visa is done, I can acquire Czech public health insurance. I used my credit card for the first time since I've been here to pay for medication for the next four months - $130 for a four month supply of Cymbalta and Wellbutrin with no insurance. In the US, a 30 day supply of Cymbalta alone is $260 without insurance. Even though my costs are cheap in comparison to the United States, I'm happy to know I can officially begin this process, as it's a lot of the reason why I'm here in the first place. I gotta take care of me, and sometimes I forget to do that.

Some resemblance of an actual life here in Brno is beginning to emerge. I'm no longer in visa limbo, I have access to an incredible network of doctors and specialists, and I can legally acquire income to support myself. The first few months have been tough because most of my savings has gone towards paying rent without receiving anything in return as it was illegal to get paid. I can go forth and be productive! And I have incredibly amazing things on the horizon. On Wednesday I leave for Poland for a five day tour with two amazing female comics from Prague. Our journey will take us to Wroclaw, Lodz, Warsaw, and Krakow with an extra day to do some sightseeing. Poland has similar costs to CZ so we won't be going broke and our accommodation is with other comedians, meaning new friends and neighbors. Another American expat comedian in Poland is helping us coordinate travel and costs with different venues where we're performing. I can't wait.

So in hindsight, wanting to have a solo adventure in my life isn't bothering me; it's all of the unknown adventures I'll never know about that could have been possible. 

So You Want to Expatriate

For the last six months, I've been deliberately oversharing on social media because so many people have asked me what the expat process is like and it's just been easier to be open about it. I've shared a lot about the differences in culture between the Czech Republic and the US, the language, common history, politics, etc, but I haven't gone into explaining about the process itself: with starting a new life abroad comes a ton of bureaucratic tape, and not all of it is in English. This post is mostly for those who are interested in expatriating and what worked well for me and didn't work well, even if you're looking elsewhere than "Czechia." (lol get a load of this guy, trying to go by "Myanmar" when he's actually Burma, get real).

1. DO YOUR RESEARCH. The question I get asked most is "why the Czech Republic?" Before I even started looking at other countries, I needed to narrow down what it was about Seattle that I was attempting to escape. The cost of living and the quality of life were two things I needed to compare in whatever place I ended up. I started crunching numbers with international cities and made a baseline of what cities I could live in that were similar, just to get an idea. Among those cities were Paris, Dresden, Munich, Milan, Brussels, Amsterdam, Oslo, Osaka, Incheon, and Copenhagen. All of these places had their own perks stemming from the influence of Western European culture but they were also all on the Euro. If you're going to be working overseas, there's a chance you'll be getting paid from overseas depending on what job you secure, so when it comes to the Euro replacing your dollar, even though you may be getting paid in USD, there's a chance it won't extend as far as it would in places like Ukraine, Thailand, or Poland.

So it was narrowed down to places not on the Euro, which left me with places where I'd need to join a tribe and get a Travel Channel special or in a place living way below my means and having someone from the US sponsor me for just pennies a day. Then it came to down to places I had been to before, so in this case it was the Czech Republic, Poland, South Africa, and Zimbabwe. I had traveled to Central and Eastern Europe in 2009 and remembered it incredibly fondly. The terrain was something pretty to look at, like if Wisconsin actually had some substance. The people had a resting bitch face attitude like I do, and my dollar could go further here than anywhere else.

Another facet I had to research was if there is an existent expat community where I wanted to go. Is there any kind of social safety net where you can locate people who speak and write the same language as you? Is learning a language with clicks and hieroglyphics going to hinder the time you'll be spending wishing you had picked another location to move to? Am I going to let that dangling preposition bother me? No.

The cost of living in Brno is 70% less than it is in Seattle. How bad is Seattle? There are BRAND NEW "micro studio" apartments, as in a 270 square foot dorm room with a shared bathroom with other tenants in the building for $900 a month. Seattle used to be an affordable, liberal haven on the West Coast that shook its head at the San Francisco smugness and the even worse Los Angeles traffic all the while remaining creative, progressive, and still one step ahead of Portland. This factor alone combined with the possibility of losing my health insurance was enough to get me to start this research in the first place, as living in Seattle with an auto-immune disease was becoming increasingly unsustainable.

Since a move to Africa seemed a little too reverse Mean Girls, I started looking at the actual immigration process for both the Czech Republic and Poland. Actually, let me back up.

You know how every election there's one person who's like Fuck this I'm moving to Canada and I'm never coming back! but they don't move? The reason people don't move to Canada because it has a super strict immigration policy and they can't. If you can't prove you have expertise in areas that will directly benefit very specific sections of the economy, you ain't gettin' in. Since most of the people I know disagree with the president yet they're biochemical engineers, oil field design specialists, or data IT farmers, they're not moving.

Anyway, back to what I was saying. Once you've thrown your dart at your Google Map and had it successfully puncture land and not water, research the immigration policies by looking at expat forums from those countries. A lot of these forums have insights on current job openings, various immigration situations from student visas to marital situations, and what government offices to navigate once you've arrived and in most cases, which language to pursue while doing so. It was in this process that I discovered a trade license for the Czech Republic called a Živnostenský list, which allows me to be self employed as long as I can prove I have the funds to move. I would select areas of work that I'd most likely be self employed in, such as customer service, teaching English, writing/editing, and IT. Most countries don't take kindly to people overstaying their visas or thinking they're going to become a brand new citizen with a backpack, dreads, and $20 they got from busking in another country in which they overstayed illegally. So make sure you qualify for your chosen country's legal immigration process. Otherwise you'll just be Patty from accounting who keeps bitching that Canada has better healthcare than the US at whatever chance she gets. So that brings me to my next point:

2. Save your money. When you apply for the appropriate visa in your country, chances are you'll need to prove that you have money. If you're applying for a student visa, this may be less important, but these are also the most common visas that people overstay. They graduate and just become an illegal lifer wherever they are. In my case, I sold my car and everything else and lived a very very thrifty lifestyle for the last few months before I left the US while putting everything else on a credit card that gets airline miles for an airline I don't fly anymore. 

Some countries will have different limitations on what you can have. For instance, I needed at least $5,500 in my account as well as an official notarized statement proving it. You'll also need to prove that you'll be able to maintain that amount, which is currently difficult. In the Czech Republic, you need a Živnostenský list (called a "zivno") AND a long stay visa in order to work, so right now, I'm biding my time by eating cheap cheese and walking a lot of places. I'm currently forgoing clothing hangers at the moment because I need to save money, but I'm lucky that the exchange rate between the Czech koruna and the US dollar is in my favor. 

If you're retired, fucking awesome! Lots of people retire to Central and Eastern Europe because they can live above their means with the money they have left. But this also means that they no longer have any incoming income, so it's a toss up with what you'll end up doing in the end. Hopefully dying happy knowing you lived a good life. 

3. Wager your sacrifices/comfort. When I say that, I'm referring to taking stock in what you're leaving behind and what your expatriation will mean for other people, friends, family, or coworkers. I applaud the people who uproot their family of four to a country where the language is difficult all because dad had a weird dream one night. I decided to move because I wasn't in a relationship and I had just lost my job at a furniture consignment store, something that was hardly integral to the creation of a career. So what was I clinging to? Expensive rent?

(also sidenote I swear I just heard a seagull but that can't be right).

After the plug on the move was pulled, I made a list of things that would bring me back to the US, most of which were incredibly bleak. These circumstances varied from deaths in the family to the somewhat likeliness of a nuclear war breaking out. And when I say "bring me back," I mean cancel my lease, repack everything, ship everything, not buying-a-return-ticket bring me back. Moving from Minneapolis to Seattle in the past was in some ways minor preparation for this journey, a scrimmage or pre-season game. No big life changes in the first year of sobriety! I was told, but I returned to my hometown to protect my sobriety and I knew that staying in Minneapolis would mean coming out of retirement. But this time around, with my sobriety safely guarded, I wasn't moving to protect anything. I was moving for me. And the cool part is, you know what? If any of this happens to suck, I can always move back. Having a great support network allows me to make these types of decisions, but I understand not everyone can make grandiose ideas become reality in one night.

You'll also need to prepare yourself for some pushback from people after you've made the decision to move. When I first told people I was moving, I was met with concerns that had simple solutions. But you don't know the language! I can learn it. Do you know anyone there? I'll meet people. I don't want to trivialize valid concerns, but when I was met with opposition, it wasn't discouraging; it only pushed me further and made me more determined to leave. Others may come across these difficulties and fold right there. You're right, I don't know anyone so living in a country where English is not the chosen first language may not be the correct path for me. And you know what? There's nothing wrong with that. Maybe Amsterdam is more your style. Everyone speaks English because they realized lol fuck us no one is going to learn Dutch, it's a ridiculous language. But the Czechs held on tight and will make it very clear to you they speak Czech and so will you.

Like I said, this pushback made me all the more determined in my search for a different life. For the last five months, all I've done is research (see Step 1). I constantly have over ten tabs open on my computer of PDF forms in Czech and English, a currency conversion calculator, a tram line map, a tram line ticket pricing guide, a tram line offices guide, regional train ticket website, private health insurance guide, public health insurance guide, Netflix, and Facebook. Research became my part time job before moving. I was up on my phone at night even after I shut my laptop lid for the evening. I was seeking out new sections of bookstores and language websites. I picked up a phrasebook and started practicing preemptively.

4. Get involved in expat stuff, but not too involved. Prague is famous for this bubble in Prague 2, which is a section that's teeming with expatriates from many other first world nations. These expats rarely venture out of their bubble and become dependent on their surroundings in their own language, sort of what the Italian immigrants did with Little Italy and the Russians with Brighton Beach. Once you arrive, it's nice to be able to know other people and have some security, but after a while, you'll probably need to register with the foreign police or go on a journey where everyone in your train carriage is speaking every language but your own.

It's going to be okay, but it's going to be uncomfortable as fuck. Even today, I went to pick up my 30 day tram pass from the local office here in Kralovo Pole and I asked the woman Mluvíš anglicky? She immediately responded with ne. So we kind of stood there and looked at each other for a minute. I got out my phone and used Google Translate and she responded using the same tool on her computer. We were able to have a slow conversation that took a few minutes, but I got the information I needed and thanked her and left.

Expats are going to be really handy with knowing other events in your own language and other hangouts in your town, unless you're the first expat - good for you! And since Facebook is essentially an entity all on its own now, use it for good and not stalking your exboyfriend. There are a ton of Facebook expat groups dedicated to finding housing, offering language exchanges (you help with my Czech while I help with your English), buy/sell/trade, job offers, etc. I'm in roughly ten of these and I was able to get connected to a website to find my apartment and another job board that posts jobs for bilingual candidates or jobs in need of native English speakers. Let the expat experience be a tool but not your lifeline.

5. HIRE A VISA AGENCY. I don't trust myself to handle my paperwork, visas, signatures, affidavits, appointments, and all of the bureaucratic nonsense that comes along with moving to a different country, so it turns out there are agencies that do it for you! Whaaaat super awesome. I'm using an agency in Prague that I contacted a few months ago. They praised me for getting a jump on this before I left since most people land in Prague and the countdown starts from their 90 day visa-free stay in order to get legal. No place to live, no job, etc. So a team originally from Pittsburgh helped me out with what documents they needed, what I needed to fill out, what needed to be translated, etc. They make the appointments, I show up. For instance I have a visa appointment in Berlin in late November. They'll interview me to make sure I am who I say I am and that I'm qualified for what I'm putting down as my list of trades. It's basically a job interview to live in another place. AND you don't want to be deported because you didn't have your ducks in a row, so it's best to let someone do that who has not only has done it themselves.

I'm sure there's a ton more I could be talking about and stuff that hasn't even occurred to me yet, which is why having a blog is handy since you can ramble anytime, anywhere. A lot of this is Czech-specific. But I'll leave you with this (puts mic back in the stand): the easiest countries to immigrate to if you are NOT a student or legally single/not married are the Netherlands and the Czech Republic. Or just marry a broad you meet on the internet I don't know who cares WHOZZISS GUY THINK HE IZZ ahhhh okay time for bed.