Apparently, you get certified as a citizen.

[aruan]

I'm just not sure their process is exhaustive enough to merit that measure of accomplishment, but then again, so few things require proper demonstration of proficiency. Personally, I think we should've been required to navigate a Palm Beach butterfly ballot. Now there's accomplishment.

Not that what did happen wasn't fun anyway.

Getting up at 5:45 is one way to start the day. It's not the preferred method, but so it goes. I only last night called my mum while Miranda and I were out at Starbucks to tell her that I'd be going to the naturalization ceremony today, and even then she said if I'd only called a couple of hours earlier, she would've driven up. *warm fuzzies* Instead she called to make sure I was awake.

And so, with me dressed in a white shirt, blue jeans, and red underwear, we set out. The last-minute additions of REM's Shiny Happy People and Prince's Kiss to the America mix were truly inspired, and we sang the entire trip up.

Me, driving:



Also, I will absolutely not survive Joey as Danny in Grease. That hair! That smile! I'm fairly certain I'm on record somewhere saying that it'd be the perfect role for him to play and today, doing the choreography and actually listening to the lyrics inbetween, I about swooned just thinking about it.

We got to Robinson Theater at UNF right on time. After turning over my appointment paper and resident alien card, they teased by giving me my certificate, which they promptly took once again after I verified all the information on it and signed it. For you see, what's an occasion without proper pomp and circumstance?

And see, I was doing okay. Got a little misty while the guest speakers were talking about becoming part of the great "social experiment" of democracy and civic duty, what citizenship and being part of this country means. No, really, just a little misty, but otherwise fine.

Look, I even made it through the oath!



For those interested, the oath of citizenship basically involved renouncing all allegiances to your former country and swearing to uphold and protect the Constitution of the United States at whatever cost that may come.

There was a recorded message from Dubyah himself wherein he sounded only a little less insipid than normal, but then that's what a tried-and-true script and some rehearsing will do for you.

And then, the bastages break out some slapdash music video with dramatic fades and blatantly propagandist imagery set to Proud to Be An American and I. Just. Bawled. To be fair, so did Sailor Boy next to me (sweetheart even reached over and squeezed my arm) but dude, I still blush thinking about it.

Then, as instructed by the emcee, Sailor Boy and I shook hands before we walked the stage to receive our certificates to, on the funniest note of the day, the commencement march. It was deja vu all over again, but mercifully much shorter than my high school graduation.

My life's third Walk (with Sailor Boy just a few steps ahead):



We got a certificate (apparently a relic now, as mine still says Department of Justice instead of Homeland Security, thankfully) from the emcee, a letter from the president from the guest speaker, and flags and congratulations from the Daughters of the Revolution just out of frame. I also got big hugs from Miranda and, some more photo oppage later, we skipped back to my car and drove with the top down and Stars and Stripes Forever blaring to Jacksonville beach.

Along the way, we once again managed to creep ourselves out by simultaneously coming up with the phrase "they could be eating apple pie while doing it" in answer to what could possibly be more American than the Puritans' practice of fervent litigiousness, and if that doesn't convey just how dorktastic our conversations can be, nothing will.

We dipped our toes and frolicked in the lovely, squishy sand, then had tres patriotic lunches on the patio of Applebee's (Bourbon Street Steak and a Cowboy Burger, respectively), with, naturally, apple pie for dessert. Our lunch accompaniment was what we could only call muzak electronica, with the completely random exception of Ivy's Edge of the Ocean.

Said song totally got us in the mood for my soundtrack to Stay the Night & Fairy Tale, and I am ecstatic to say it still kicks just as much ass as when I originally made it. Mmm, good music, breezy weather, miles of open highway - the journey home may have been the most salient instance of freedom's joy I'd experienced all day.



Miranda (right) and me with the flag.

This weekend (well, the parts that aren't Halloween or Horror Nights) will be ass-kicking, as now that I can stay in the country, I'd like to stay in this university too.

Comments

[gjstruthseeker.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm originally from Hungary, a smallish country in Eastern Europe. But my family moved here when I was nine. Really though, a few months of culture shock and learning the language later, there's probably no other place where I'd ever properly belong. It grows on you. ;)