I slept in until almost eleven this morning. There was a message on my phone from my mom saying she'd been to the home affairs and all that they could find, after an hour of searching was my new passport. Sigh. How difficult is it to get a copy of two birth certificates and a marriage certificate? Surely, that is a pretty standard request at home affairs? Comparing with how smoothly things went getting a British birth certificate in January and how the system just worked in the French embassy to get a visa, I'm assuming that this is a major difference between first and third world countries.
I've spent my morning in my Jim Morrison tshirt and silky pj bottoms, face masking and dancing to Hermans Hermits. I've been dancing to HH since I was probably four or five years old. I remember Yvonne and I dancing in the lounge and singing along, enthusiastically and off key. Hermans Hermits was probably the beginning of my love affair with all things British. I remember staring at the old record cover and trying to decide which one of the boys I thought was the cutest. None of them actually. I loved their British accents and it made me think of far off London, mini skirts, black taxis and gorgeous old buildings. London in the sixties :)
Truly, if you're tired of London, you're tired of life.