Visas 101

Monday was my Visa visit - it has taken me two days, one mexican feast, and 16 hours of blissful sleep, but I have recovered enough to blog about it.
Now, if  you've had to get a visa or you know someone who has, then  you can understand the high stress level connected to this undertaking. In preparation for the dreaded visit- I know no one who doesn't dread the visa visit-I read various blogs, articles, & FAQs...these sources only heightened my fear. Most of them mentioned being turned away or yelled at in French.
After two hours of sleep - I kept waking up because I thought I'd overslept (although I had a hotel wake up call, had left a light on and the tv on, AND had my alarm clock set) - I decided that 7 am was the latest I could stand to lay in bed. Armed with my best french outfit (aka cute flats, a high wasted skirt with solid tank, and understated jewelry), my stack of documents, my rented red Honda FIT, and repeating various common French phrases that I might need at the appointment, I drove off toward Atlanta. The worry turned my usually slow driving pace (slow because my hometown has 4,000 inhabitants and we do not drive like maniacs) into a frenzied city race. I zoomed my way in and out of morning Atlanta traffic, arriving at my visit more than thirty minutes early. Sitting in the office, checking and rechecking my documents, fussing with my hair and makeup every ten minutes, I watched as one couple was turned away. I made quick friends with the 10 am appointment girl from Venezuela, the 10:50 am appointment guy from Knoxville Tennessee. 
When the visa lady called my name my hands started shaking slightly, my throat suddenly dried up like a desert, my clothes (that seemed lovely and fresh five minutes ago) felt wrinkled and dingy, and I forgot how to speak french! Surely I was going to be turned away, I could practically hear the words forming within the visa lady's head. Everyone was watching me... or were they? They were!
At the bulletproof (only has one tiny little drawer which is also protected by bulletproof glass) window I handed over all twenty plus documents - they tell you that extra copies are essential and that the visa lady is allowed to ask for any other document she wants. I began pulling out my college diploma, my birth certificate, my high school diploma, extra bank statements out of my purse just in case she asked for them.
After 5 minutes of reviewing my documents - 5 long minutes which I filled with questions in my head such as "Why must I go to France?" "Did I put the correct address on that form?" "Why does that Visa picture look so awful?"  "Is she supposed to frown and huff that way when she reviews each page?" - and then taking my fingerprints electronically, she handed back some pages, insisted that I check my name and address as being correct and said "Ok, thank you. Goodbye."
 ..............WHAT?! Was this it? Did I just survive the dreaded visa visit?
"C'est tout?" I asked.   She SMILED (yes actually smiled) "Oui, C'est Tout!".  I was sure that I'd heard wrong or perhaps I would faint or they'd start laughing hysterically at any moment and yell "just kidding". But nothing happened. I exited the building, grabbed a sushi lunch, and left Atlanta sans problemes.
Now I wait for my visa to arrive in the mail or my visa rejection letter...........