I've sent my passport off to be renewed. No longer must I walk through customs with a picture of a 17 year old child in my pocket. A beardless, fresh-faced child with an enthusiastic smile and fuck all knowledge of optometry.
Soon I'll have a more up to date passport. One with a photo of a 26 year old man, sporting a well maintained beard with a look of despair and weariness in his eyes and slightly more than fuck all knowledge of optometry. Big pair of eyebrows too, they've come a long way since me teen.
.
It's been niggling away at me for ages now. I nearly didn't get into India two or three years ago, man at customs asked every question he could pronounce and got his friend over to look at me for a while too. I'm going to America in mid-March to see my brother, so I want to have it done for then. Should all be done by February, I reckon.
It does mean I'm grounded, though. I've no real plans to go anywhere right now but the fact that I can't fly anywhere means I'VE NEVER WANTED TO FLY SOMEWHERE MORE IN MY LIFE. I'd fly to flipping Shannon Airport and spend the weekend eating black toast in Lough Derg if it meant I could get out of this country.
It's a bit like that chilli pepper in my fridge, back there in the bowl with the tomatoes. I don't particularly want to eat it. It's getting a bit shriveled up now, should probably go in the bin. But if you told me I wasn't allowed to eat it it'd be in my mouth before you had the full stop put at the end of your sentence.
Oh, sorry about the unimaginative post title. Was gonna mull it over for a while, see if something clever came up but nothing did.
Whisht, kettle's boiled. I'll talk to ye later.
Soon I'll have a more up to date passport. One with a photo of a 26 year old man, sporting a well maintained beard with a look of despair and weariness in his eyes and slightly more than fuck all knowledge of optometry. Big pair of eyebrows too, they've come a long way since me teen.
.
It's been niggling away at me for ages now. I nearly didn't get into India two or three years ago, man at customs asked every question he could pronounce and got his friend over to look at me for a while too. I'm going to America in mid-March to see my brother, so I want to have it done for then. Should all be done by February, I reckon.
It does mean I'm grounded, though. I've no real plans to go anywhere right now but the fact that I can't fly anywhere means I'VE NEVER WANTED TO FLY SOMEWHERE MORE IN MY LIFE. I'd fly to flipping Shannon Airport and spend the weekend eating black toast in Lough Derg if it meant I could get out of this country.
It's a bit like that chilli pepper in my fridge, back there in the bowl with the tomatoes. I don't particularly want to eat it. It's getting a bit shriveled up now, should probably go in the bin. But if you told me I wasn't allowed to eat it it'd be in my mouth before you had the full stop put at the end of your sentence.
Oh, sorry about the unimaginative post title. Was gonna mull it over for a while, see if something clever came up but nothing did.
Whisht, kettle's boiled. I'll talk to ye later.
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