Olsen Twin Envy or How I Want a Passport to Paris in 2012

One of the things I really want to accomplish this year is getting my first passport.  I’ve been lusting after one since before the Olsen Twins made the so-bad-it’s-good-and-highly-cliched 1990s film, Passport to Paris, which we somehow talked my high school French teacher into watching one day in my AP French class.  Actually, that happened a lot.  My French teacher would show us movies that had sometimes only about five minutes of actual footage either in France or about France or related to France like Home Alone, Sabrina, or French Kiss (which is a pretty boring rom-com starring two people I really love: Meg Ryan and Kevin Kline).

We also got to watch Clueless one day just because she loved the movie so much.  Obviously, because of this fact, I passed le Francais avec les felicitations!  As Cher would say, “DUH.”

Olsen Twin and French class tangent aside, I’ve always wanted a passport.  I envy people with passports, because to me, a passport is the most glamorous accessory a person can own.  I’m sure you think a Berkin bag or a Tiffany ring or a sleek yacht you sail in George Clooney’s Lake Como villa is more glamorous, but I assure you, a passport is better.  Passports are very romantic and exciting in an old world kind of way, like traveling by train or the glory days of the Titanic (which was every day but April 14, 1912, by the way).  Having a passport means you’re a world traveler, an explorer like Magellan or maybe an international spy or thief like Carmen Sandiego (is anyone else concerned that ACME still hasn’t been able to pinpoint where in the world Carmen Sandiego is?  I mean, you’d think if we can find Osama, we can surely find Carmen.  All her V.I.L.E. henchmen have the worst pun-ny names.  Come on, people.  Justin Case?  Olive Yermunny?!  REALLY?!).  A stamp in a passport means you’re one step closer to adopting an adorable brood of children from around the world and hooking up with Brad Pitt.

I mean, how does it get any better than that?

And think of the people with MULTIPLE passports!  Okay, so a lot of them are probably criminals, but some are total Jason Bournes.  You know, spies who look like Matt Damon and are battling crippling amnesia all while kicking serious ass across Europe.  Some people just have multiple passports because they filled up all the space in old passports.  How fantastic is that?  To travel so much you have a stack of old passports in a room in your house.  I can just imagine Meryl Streep keeps all her old passports right next to the 50 billion Oscars she has just to show that not only is she more talented than you, she’s more well-traveled.

I want to travel; see the world.  Sometimes I think I should just gather up all my money and belongings and go laze around Europe for a few months like trust-fund Ivy League kids do after they graduate college.  Not that trust-fund Ivy Leaguers really have to gather up their money.  They just use American Express Platinum Cards like all sensible rich people.  Note to future, richer self: be an AmEx Platinum Card-holder.  Also make friends with George Clooney for access to Lake Como, Italy compound.

Getting back on subject, I also need a passport for career reasons.  As an actor, having a current passport would open me up for touring and performance jobs outside of the United States.  It’s a way of being prepared for any circumstance.  It’s also a way to meet my future attractive British husband in London, because I wouldn’t be able to go to England and be the new Kate or Pippa Middleton without it.

All this passport talk reminds me of Sandra Bullock’s character from one of my favorite rom-coms of all time, While You Were Sleeping.  Her character Lucy just wants a stamp in her passport (and love.  DUH.).  At the end of the movie, Bill Pullman’s character not only marries her, but takes her to Florence, Italy for their honeymoon.  She says, “he gave me the world.”  Awwww.

That’s what I want: the world.  Not in a Dr. Evil-taking-the-world-hostage-for-$1 million way, but to see parts of the world I’ve never seen before.  I want to go to London and Paris and Prague and Rome and Berlin and St. Petersburg and Africa and New Zealand and a million other places.  I want a stamp collection to rival that of any goody-goody 1950s boy (even though the stamps he collected are mail stamps.  Unimportant detail.).  I want the glamorous life of international travel.

I may not get out of the country this year (though I hope I do), but getting my passport would be a start.  At least, I’d be a twin and a 90s floral hat away from being an Olsen.  Passport to Paris, here I come!

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