Homesick

My daddy (what? I'm a Southern woman) just emailed photos from his trip to Turkey. He's there for the next week visiting our family friends. The photos include his third wife holding the hands of the woman I'm named for. I don't have anything against this woman, but it breaks my heart that it's not my mother. Not that I want my mommy to still be married to that man, as I can't imagine anything more awful for either one of them, but that Mommy would love to see Turkanhanim and Nuranhanim again.
And my heart breaks for me, since I'm the only one other than my mommy who hasn't been back yet.
I had a conversation today about choices and blame. I know that I've made choices and they've kept me from going to Turkey, but sometimes, just sometimes, I let myself wallow in the "unfairness" of it all.
I *will* go back to Turkey one day. I will.

Fairly Stated

Tomorrow I'm headed to the State Fair with $100 in my pocket, an empty stomach, and a map of all the glorious Fair food to be eaten. I will also have a list of interesting events and exhibits I plan on viewing. Photo essay to follow. Yeah, I'm *that* girl.

Long time reader, first time poster

I'm sure that joke is as old as time, but what can you do?
I've been told to get a "real" blog. So, here I am. Really blogging. For real. Honest. Truly.
I thought for a while that I would post a blog using my cat as an alias in order to create a more private venue for my thoughts, but my cat has taken on a certain notoriety recently. It may be the large art heists or the fancy zeppelin. I'll let you decide.
More anon.