E' Ufficiale! Io Sono Italiano.

If, for whatever reason, I seem more incredibly stylish or dashingly sociable the next time we meet, it might have something to do with my becoming Italian. See, after three years of marriage (to an Italian citizen), a few months’ worth of paperwork and then three more subsequent years of waiting, I have been accepted into the fold of Italian citizenry. My new Euro status is super cool on a number of levels - not the least of which is the opportunity to zip through the short line at European airports (although, I won’t actually have my passport for another couple of months). Furthermore, not having to deal with the British Home Office (which actually lost my American passport back in 2001) is very much a boon. Of course, it does feel rather incongruous to say “I’m Italian,” because, in so many ways, I ain’t. The inner core of my Georgia cracker soul just hasn’t come to terms with this yet (and may never). Still, if even a little of the warmth and graciousness that my Italian friends and family have shown me over the years rubs off on me, then an Italian Tiki Chris will be a very positive force in the world indeed.