expatriat-ing

Instead of taking small, reasonable steps to get my life out of a rut, I jump to crazy solutions.

I am moving to Britain. Preferably London, as that is notoriously the most thriving city of the UK.

The dilemma I face (besides the student debt that haunts my present and my future) is that nobody wants any foreigners in their country. Well, the UK is fairly liberal towards allowing members of their commonwealth (i.e. Canada) to enter into their country and become candidates for employment. You get screwed over if your rebellious ancestors were too haughty to pay a little tax and decided to start a big fight over it. (I mean, the British did send their troops to protect their citizens and territory from the French and Indians. If I say I would have been a Tory rather than a Patriot, can I come to London?)

However, I have a potential plan. I'll move to Italy first, with my grandmother. Since my grandma's grandma was native-born Italian, she qualifies for Italian citizenship, or at the least, an Italian passport. Once she has a passport, I can use her as my gateway to Italian citizenship. Once I have that, I'll be a citizen of the EU and maybe the Brits won't be so lithe to treat me with disdain.

But I do love Italy, I could just stay there.

But I want to meet a certain Irishman I have developed a little crush on from watching the British sitcom The IT Crowd. So, I've got to spend some time on the island. And as much as I love Italian, there is something to be said for sweet release of conversing in your mother tongue.