Tuesday, August 28, 2007

I Feel So NAKED...

...without my passport.

I mean, what if...WHAT IF...I were to meet some man who wanted to whisk me away to Paris for Labor Day Weekend? Where would I be then, huh? Sorry, man-of-my-dreams...how about Bakersfield instead?

Yeah, dilemma with a capital D.

Looks like I'm gonna have to break down and get another one (oh, the humanity). Turns out this may not be as easy as it seems. First, I have to report the original one lost or stolen, and guess what they wanna know? Yeah. The number...

New search.

See, here's the thing. I can put my grubby little hands on a zillion travel records, going back to the airline ticket receipts from my trip to Norway in 2001 and the one to Argentina in 1999...and all the cruises in between where I used my passport for identification. Not one document bears the number.

Okay, square one. Birth certificate. Hm...used to have two copies...somewhere.

No birth certificate, either.

Maybe I'm not supposed to go anywhere in October. (Ya think??)

The sad part of this whole debacle is that I KNOW WHERE THE PASSPORT'S SUPPOSED TO BE. It just isn't there.

I must have (gulp) tossed it in the trash at some point. It's the only answer. (Which would be totally out of character since...y'know...it implies I was actually cleaning...)

So, I'm off to re-establish my identity...because, like Tiger Woods on a Sunday afternoon in Augusta, it's a sure bet I'll find this crap as soon as I order the new stuff.

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