A passport: I has one

As mentioned in a previous post, I applied for a US passport, which has duly arrived. Ah, that new passport smell! Actually, I think they're now made of plastic-y plastic (unlike the tasteful leatherette I recall from my youth,) so the sight of all those unstamped pages is a lot more inspiring.

The materials that came with did not include my original if unembossed birth certificate, but did include a leaflet telling me about all the Department of State sites I could go to in order to dispose of my privacy and serenity as quickly as possible. Plus, I am encouraged to enter emergency contact information in ink to a document that doesn't expire for a decade.  Now, there may be those of you among my readership who have been sharing emergency contact duties with the same people since you were all in diapers, but mama justalurkr has been a rolling stone, footloose, fancy-free and all that impermanent jazz. Of course I'm adding my parents, but they are 70-something (Mom) and 90 even (get down with your bad self, Frank!)  There are some fairly stern warnings about altering the document (doing it wilfully can result in prosecution!) Also, the longest I ever lived at one address in my fifty years was...thirteen, and I've had so many addresses that when I updated my Facebook timeline, I left out anywhere I didn't live five years or more and whacked it down to half a dozen. In other words, a change of address is highly likely in the next 10 years based on past experience.

So, do I faithfully and honestly fill in all the pertinent details in ink and then go rogue as necessary by crossing out and altering later? Or do I just slap successive address labels in there?

edited to correct syntactical absurdity