Girl Meets World

The first one?  Got it when i was a 30-year-old kitten.  The passport photo shows a young woman with long brown hair, wearing an 80’s power suit with linebacker shoulder pads.

Stamped with my first overseas trip to Paris.  A business trip.  Alone.  Nervous, but excited.  Practicing my school-girl French on the kids, the dog and the empty seats of my car in preparation for my first international trip.  The City of Lights.  This little country bumpkin met up with some Brits with dancing shoes, and we closed that town the fuck down on our second night at the conference.

By the time that one expired, i was a seasoned international traveler, with five more trips under my belt.  Took my parents and my children with me to Germany on two different trips, knocked around Hong Kong and Bangkok with my sister, T, and dragged my spawn to visit London, Cornwall and Devon.

The photo on the next passport was taken close to my 40th birthday, and is my current active ticket to adventure.  Now THIS baby has seen some action!

Trips to Spain, Germany, and London in the first few pages.  Iceland.  Greece with my darling blogmates!  Peru and Ecuador.  The Galapagos, for fuckssake!  Visas to visit Vietnam and Cambodia!  The start of my diving adventures in Mexico, Honduras, Bonaire, and The Bahamas. Delicious trip with my children in Turkey last year.

ALMOST, but not quite, full… just a couple of pages in the passport book that are naked.

Renewal is tricky.  With a kid living halfway around the world, and a serious travel addiction, i need to keep a hot passport.  Find a window where i am not traveling, too.  Trouble is that it should be renewed about 9 months before it expires, and i probably should have done this immediately after my last trip in September.

But i waited…

Given that the next passport will last until i’m 60, it needs a decent picture.  So i was waiting until i had a good hair day.  i had such a day about a month ago, but i had also sprouted a grape-sized subcutaneous zit alongside my nose that would make me look like a mutant, so that good hair day got away from me.

Visited my hairdresser last night, and it always looks better with a fresh coat of paint.  Today was the day…  Good hair.  No zits.

This one will take me into retirement.  Once the shackles of the daily grind come off, it is my intention to burn a fucking HOLE in this thing!  And away we go!

At 30, 40 and 50.  There i am… Pinned in official State Department time…