Done and Posted

It was inevitable. It had to be done. There simply was no way out. With much trepidation, I tediously filled out the form, making sure to dot every single "I" and cross every single "T" and made the pilgrimage to the US Postal Office to renew my passport. Right now as we speak, my lifeline is in the hands of the U.S. Post Office to be sent off, invalidated, and returned along with a brand new replacement. Perish the thought!

I remember it as if it were yesterday. I had fallen in love with the man whom I thought I would marry and have 2.3 kids with. Little did I know, after years of hassle and cruel cold feet on his part, it would never come to be. Anyway. Since we had met (by accident) on my turf, it only made sense for our next meeting to be on his. In England. I had always wanted to visit the UK and this was my chance. Since my father was born and spent his childhood there, I was always curious about the land of my heritage. That I was in love with someone who lived there only helped intensified the feelings more. The trip was less than two months away, and I would need a passport. The events that occurred after submitting my paperwork still boggle my mind to this day. I am always one to fall between the bureaucratic cracks. This time would be no different.

The problem, which would haunt me from the beginning to the end of the process was that I had been in NYC for a little over a year and had only acquired my photo identification card a few months prior to submitting my passport application. That I had a brand spankin' new ID card and no other official photo identification from my state to prove who I was, raised a red flag with the passport people. Had I submitted everything in my home state (where I had many forms of photo identification), I wouldn't be writing this today. But since I had been resident in my current state at the time for fifteen months already, I was afraid of any possible legal implications. It was a Catch 22.

Pleading with the employees at the post office and tearful phone calls to the passport hotline (on my dime) did nothing for my case. I was screwed. Time was ticking and two months turned into one. One month turned into mere weeks. Thankfully, in my favor, they went ahead with the processing, but I would have to come up with another form of acceptable ID to retrieve it. With my trip a little more than one week away, my mother express mailed my high school yearbook for me to bring down to the expediting office. It was touch and go considering the person behind the counter could easily declare my evidence as not worthy. On a wing and a prayer, it worked. In my hands, all navy blue and brand new, was my first U.S. passport.

So, one can imagine how nail biting this renewal process is going for me. I sent everything out via certified mail, but that still doesn't do much for the nerves. I'm never settled from past experiences. Come to think of it, to this day I wonder why I had to show them my high school yearbook and why they wouldn't allow, as evidence, the various forms of picture ID that I still kept (and were still valid) from my home state. The government continues to boggle my mind.