I’ve renewed my passport. Ok, let me just say that again. I’ve renewed my passport.
Heady stuff! I get butterflies just saying it. Never having imagined I’d even need a passport, and then getting my first one at 50, it just didn’t occur to me that I would ever be so worldly as to say, oh so casually, “Yes. I just renewed my passport.”
This, people, is a ticket to the world. The entire world. And I intend to make good use of it. Being unworldly, I didn’t realize the Department of State would return my old passport (complete with hole punches) so I resisted the temptation to cut out all the pages with my visa stamps, and just took pictures of all of them before sending off for the new documents. And holy cow. “Let me just take this precious booklet and entrust it to the United States Postal Service and sit around waiting for a government office to properly handle my passport, my information, and my money. What could possibly go wrong?” So yes, it was a big relief to get that envelope back from the civil servant who did indeed perform admirably.
I knew I’d never manage six weeks of pins and needles, so even though I won’t need this thing for months, I paid the expedited fee. It was worth the peace of mind.
Meanwhile, I feel like I ought to dress up and do my hair, fix my lipstick and go out to lunch. “Yes, my new passport came today. I’ve just about worn that old one out. Sigh. I’m so fashionable and world-weary and well-traveled. Yes. It’s all so very dull.”
HA! I’m bouncing around the room excited. I can’t stop looking at it. I can’t wait to fill it up. My next trip (Orlando, by car) requires nothing more than a driver’s license. The one after that (California, by plane) would also be possible with that same driver’s license, but you can bet I’m handing my passport to that TSA agent at the airport. Because I can.
Next thing you know, I’ll opt for pre-check just so I can be Fancy.