I write this sitting in my apartment without any furniture or telecommunications, poaching off a neighbor's internet, waiting for the movers to cart away the remainder of my possessions.

I'm not sure when I'll see the stuff in boxes, since importing into Turkey requires documentation and approvals, filled in triplicate with the proper TPS cover sheets. Therefore I have attempted to pack as much as possible into the suitcases out of which I shall presumably be living for the foreseeable future.

A few days ago, my best friend Ace (aka the Original Swine) calls up and says "Are ya living like a gypsy yet?"

Yes, now I am living like a gypsy.

Couple of blog-related issues:
1) You can leave comments by clicking on the numbers next to the posts.
2) I have shortened the long posts on the main page (such as the Paris Hilton story) - by clicking on the titles one may access the full posts. I do not know how to code, so this is the best I can come up with.
3) My father asks that you do not take the "about" section literally. "People will think we threw you out of the house," he said, not a little piqued. Yes, Virginia, the internet is a pack of lies.