My fairy-tale life ended the moment I wanted to apply for a passport.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
Getting a new passport took me a stupid amount of time. I had to go back five times with different photographs because they kept saying I was smiling, which is against the rules. I was not smiling.
In the '70s I was in exile; every time I went back I wondered if they'd take my passport away.
I traveled nonstop in 2009, so when my son popped out and my passport expired for a while, I felt more than happy just to be at home here in Canada.
My last passport, I had North Korea, Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, Sudan, Liberia, Guinea... I had, like, every war-torn country in there.
Once I accidentally left my passport in Nice, France, when I was on my way to Prague. Upon arriving in Vienna, after taking an overnight, and being asked to present my travel documents and realizing I forgot them at the hotel, they kicked me off the train and sent me back!
I love my passport. I plan trips very last minute, so I always carry it with me.
My face is my passport.
When I first was able to fill in A-C-T-O-R for the occupation line on my passport, that was the first time I really felt, 'Wow, I'm home.'
I have a British and an American passport.
I think one of the great moments of my life was when I could write musician on my passport.