On Monday afternoon I sent away for another passport.
Not a renewed passport. Another passport.
’cause Monday morning I said the right words, sang the wrong words to America the Beautiful, and added “British” as the second in my “list” of nationalities.
When we lived in Luxembourg I kept a bag of “US essentials” – and I had a ritual, while sitting on flights back to the US, of swapping European cards for US cards in my wallet, Euros for Dollars in my money clip, and the SIM in my phone. I would joke that all I was missing was a passport.
So it’s kinda neat, in a slightly childish sort of way.
But putting your passport in the mail is a uniquely uncomfortable act. Special Delivery, signed, tracked, doesn’t matter. If that thing doesn’t get to its destination, or ultimately doesn’t get back to you, things are … a bit complicated.
I felt a bit better once it had been signed for at the UK Passport office, and I’ll feel even better once it gets back in my hands, hopefully in a couple weeks.
Until then I can’t leave the UK, ‘cause I don’t have a passport. And even if I had my US Passport, I wouldn’t be able to get back into the UK. Like the US, the UK requires its citizens use its passport to enter, so the moment I became a citizen my Indefinite Leave to Remain and all previously issued immigration Visas became invalid. Passport or GTFO.
Hence the passport-in-the-mail maneuver.
So yeah… in other news, I’m now a British-American citizen. (American-British reads wrong, I’m not sure why. I suspect it’s just one of those rules we follow without necessarily understanding.)
And I’ve registered to vote, so I guess I don’t get to say “not my circus, not my monkeys” anymore – I’m a monkey in two circuses now.