As one can see from my About the Author page, today is the day of my citizenship ceremony. While not excited at the prospect (years in the military makes anyone loathe pomp and circumstance), I will be very happy when it’s all said and done. And, to be fair, one of those big reasons is that being a naturally anxious person, I’m climbing the walls in antici… … … (say it say it say it) pation.
I don’t know how it’s all going to go, which feeds this ceiling-clinging conundrum. Oh sure, I know there will be speakers trying to convince me that all Brits are mega-patriotic (which will fall flat, ’cause erm… hi… from America, land of jingoism and pie), as well as oaths sworn to Queen and including/not including Deity as we see fit. I’m, frankly, not sure what this is supposed to be celebrating anyways – the crown getting thousands of pounds off of me in immigration costs? Having passed the World’s Easiest Factoid test? But then, I’ve always been British irregardless of paperwork. I’ve known it since I was a small child back in Texas, and moving here only reminded me that I was going to where I belonged, to where pretty much everyone knows I best belong. I guess that many don’t feel that way though, so this sort of stuff might just help them feel more fitted in… doesn’t mean I have to pretend to enjoy it.
Iunno, maybe I’ll magically feel different when it’s over… ha ha ha. Considering that I didn’t after immigrating, marriage, and motherhood (outside of coming to terms with my new body – yech! *laughs*), I’m not expecting much. I expect more annoyance and frustration at getting a British passport, getting my name changed stateside… then my work will be done on this one. Of course, I’ve still got to get my child’s second passport, and and and…
Ah well, at least I’ve got a post-ceremony lunch date with the husband to look forward to. Even if it’s just grabbing some McDonalds, it’ll be nice to have a few minutes to ourselves. *grins*