Not to be confused with the Yankee Doodle Dandies, who are known for sticking feathers in their caps. We southern girls like to reserve our feathers for more useful purposes...like masquerade balls or Thanksgiving table decorations or a rousing game of "Hide the Feather". And on occasion, we have been known to torment an unsuspecting banister with pheasant feathers.
Queenie Jeanine is official. She has taxation with representation. What a gift that is...because taxation without representation can make a person very cantankerous...just ask anyone living in D.C. Besides, it's all very British and now that she's renounced Queen and country, she can quit those pesky United Kingdom habits...like muttering God save the Queen and drinking tea all day. Although, to be quite honest, I make a dreadful colonist...seeing as I prefer Wellies to Uggs and sometimes Oh bloody hell slides right off my tongue. But give me tea instead of coffee and I will punch you in the neck.
The drive down was rather uneventful...except that it took 15 hours to make a 12 hour drive. Apparently, Army Dad and Suzie Stepmom like to stop for breakfast after about 3 hours on the road. And when I say stop for breakfast, I don't mean drive through McDonald's for a slab of heart failure between 2 slices of obesity. I mean, they like to stop, go in, sit down, and order...like with a waitress and a pot of coffee. And that's only 3 hours into the drive. Do you know what I'm doing 3 hours into a 12-hour drive? Fishing out a bag of grapes and a Diet Cherry Dr. Pepper as I eat with one hand and steer with the other. Sometimes I will stop to pee. Sometimes I play the game of can-I-hold-it-until-the-next-state-line? Usually I can. Usually. But I got a completely free trip to Florida...free of gas expenses, free of food expenses, and free of driving responsibilities, so a girl really can't complain. But I can blog...
The ceremony was held in the local college auditorium, with a stage for the Immigration officers to speak from and an aisle in the front for the new citizens to walk across and receive their certificates. Personally, I think Queenie got a tad screwed on this. I mean, if you've paid thousands of dollars to an immigration attorney, kept every utility bill for five years, and taken the citizenship test 3 times because, even though you passed with 100%'s you still get denied for some other ridiculous reason, don't you deserve to walk across the stage?? But you know the government...stages are reserved for important people, aisles are for the commoners. They did manage to squeeze all things American into 30 minutes...the Pledge of Allegiance, the Star-Spangled Banner, Lee Greenwood's God Bless the U.S.A. (which I detest simply because he says "I ain't." If you're going to write a song that will be played a blue million times after this country gets bombed, can you at least use proper English? It doesn't have to be the Queen's English, but it should use words that are found in the dictionary...), and the full history of how our national anthem came to be (which I knew already, thank you audio tour of Fort McHenry in Baltimore). After all of that, I was ready to become an American citizen. Again.
Queenie's new shiny citizenship comes with a perk: her 2 daughters, Sleeping Booty and Repunzerella receive their citizenship papers automatically. So, when we busted out the chocolate ice cream cake, all decked out in red, white, and blue, that Queenie's husband, King of the Scots, had purchased, we stuck candles on the top and Sleeping Booty began singing "Happy birthday to myself, Happy birthday to myself...." She's five. And she hasn't mastered that "r" sound yet so it comes out sounding like "Happy booiuerthday to myself..."
It was such a short trip that we only swigged one pitcher of mojitos and made three necklaces. No scrapbooking. No organizing (she needs it and I dig it. She is the yin to my yang). And, unfortunately, no Hobby Lobby raids. But I did get to finish a book while she was at work on Monday...Revenge of the Innocents which is all about child abuse and the LAPD. I don't recommend it. Unless you have to read it for your social work classes or you want to have seriously disturbing dreams. And I got to pillage Queenie's craft closet for anything I could use and she could part with.
So, here are a few pics from the trip. And then it's back to the business of reading blogs (I hope you all don't mind if I don't exactly get "caught up" on all you've blogged about since Saturday. I do have other projects today...like finding clean underwear and getting the house ready for the New Year's Eve 2009 Do-Over Party. But I promise it's my last absence until I convince Neal to book us a hotel somewhere warm with umbrella drinks and palm trees). And I also want to divert your attention over to The Scholastic Scribe, who has posted websites for legitimate charities accepting donations for Haiti. I encourage everyone to do something. And wonder of wonders, you can now text your donations, even if you don't have a text plan. Cellphone providers are waiving their text fees for all donations...except for Sprint, who said "standard text messaging rates will still apply."
There's a special spot in Hell for you.
Those Who Give a Rat's Ass About Something Other Than the Bottom Line.
This is a disaster of colossal proportions and we each must do anything we can to ease the burden for the people of Haiti. Anything. Except board a plane bound for Haiti because apparently that's something they don't need right now. But anything else.
And in answer to several of you faithful readers who have asked me to link up my email address to my blog, here's the problem, yo....my blog is linked to an email address that I no longer use regularly and thus, have forgotten my password. Not to mention the fact that I have 3 other email accounts that I must check regularly. I have tried to edit my blog settings so that it will accept one of these 3 email accounts but it is denying the edit. If you have a fix, I am all ears (and one very cute butt, thank you Couch to 5K app). Otherwise, I will just have to email you with my personal email on a case-by-case basis.
And now...the God Bless America slideshow....
The blonde head is my sister's. That's what my hair used to look like. Before the red and the black and the highlights and lowlights. Ahh..those were the days. This is the taking-of-the-oath.
Her first steps as an American. See that lovely necklace she's wearing? Yes, that's a Daisy & Elm original. It only took us about an hour and a 1/2 pitcher of mojitos to pick out this outfit.
Since Uncle Sam had to work all week, Aunt Samantha made a stop over to congratulate Queenie on her new status. Yes, we actually own this outfit. Apparently, if I had worn it to the swearing-in ceremony, I could have made a small fortune from photo ops. I'll know for next time. Silly me...I thought it would come across as mocking and the one group I do not want to mock is the U.S. government...at least blatantly, anyway.
And now for our late-night creations...
And in other news...it has been brought to my attention (via a challenge by my uber-competitive husband) that technically a blog post is only supposed to be 500 words. I'm pretty sure I blow right through that limit everyday. So, to prove that I can be less wordy, more succinct and still quite witty, I'm going to do a word count and only post when I'm under 500 words. I'm not sure what 500 words look like...but I fear it will be just about the time that I really get going. Oh bloody hell....