Passports and FtB meetups and waning vacation time, oh my

Right about now, I’m at the Canadian Consulate in Minneapolis, filing paperwork for a one-way passport back to Canada. My passport went through the wash here at the Zvan’s, and the front-and-back blue pages peeled away, and evidently that’s enough to invalidate the passport. I’ve pretty much had to fill out every scrap of paper I originally did doing my real passport, in duplicate, plus a third form (that had to be notarized all official-like) stating that I damaged the original passport and how — in every embarassing detail. Just got done taking, printing, picking up, slicing up and having passport photos signed, all done by none other than world famous photographer Ben Zvan. Luckily my wife Jodi has had a passport for more than five years, and can act as my guarantor. Hopefully I will get my exit papers in the requisite three day waiting period, and will manage to return home safely. I needed to renew my passport before CONvergence next year anyway, so it’s no huge loss. Well, a small loss — I did lose every visa stamp in the old passport when the washer scrubbed every bit of non-printed ink from the pages.

Whether I’m returning home properly on Sunday, or I’m shipped off to Gitmo for being an illegal immigrant or whatever, it appears you’ll have one last chance to see me in person in Minneapolis this Friday. Stephanie, Greg and I are, as of publication, going to Bar Abilene for supper… dinner… whatever you crazy Americans call that meal that happens around 5pm. More details at Stephanie’s, and if any plans change, that’s where you’ll find out.

Less than a week left in Jodi and my vacation. Best do as many epic things as possible! This may include hugs. EPIC HUGS.


  1. Aliasalpha says

    Isn’t niagra falls on the border? Surely you could just swim up that, after all its not like you’ll ruin your passport in the wet

  2. says

    They actually gave me the option of switching to a land crossing, where they’d let me back into the country with significantly less paperwork, which is not feasible given the money it would cost and the money already sunk into my return flight. My swimming-up-a-waterfall skills are lacking. Hell, my swimming-in-calm-water skills are lacking. Baths are the best I can do, and even those can get dicey sometimes.

  3. 'Tis Himself, OM says

    for supper… dinner… whatever you crazy Americans call that meal that happens around 5pm.

    Din-din. Or occasionally the feedbag. The use of major munch has fallen off sharply but evening eats is still heard in rural and urban areas.

    So when you are mealing after work but before sleepy-bye time in Canuckistan, what do you call that feast?

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