I remember when I got it. It felt so cosmopolitan and adventurous. Rich (of the robot) took my passport photo as he worked in a photoshoppe. Everyone likes the picture. I remember goofing around acting "AMERICA!". I think it looks to others like I'm pouting.
Maybe the United States citizen in me was prescient.
My new lover (later to be my husband and later to be my ex-husband/friend), had arranged for us all to go to merry old england on a $300 flight.
The passport was to make this happen.
Free drinks on the international flight. Pubs. Curry Condoms. Touch of Evil. Sights sounds. Look left. No trashcans because of bums. Tons of Sex. Tons of Drama. Tons of Dreams.
I've never really needed my passport since then, but I have used it to get into the virgin islands (british).