I hope this finds you all in good health, and, more importantly, stylish trousers.
There is a saying here - Ne Mutlu Türküm Diyene - He is happy who can call himself a Turk. And, O my befuddled patriots, compatriots, and expatriates, I am pleased to announce that tomorrow, I will be halfway happy. I have applied and been accepted for a residence permit! Admittedly, the only requirements are that you can spell your parents' names and have a wad of cash in your pocket. Still, the resulting advantages of this momentous event are that I can now place utilities in my own name, and I don't have to stammer at the border patrol officers every three months, explaining that my inveterate love for Turkey is the sole explanation for the growing pile of tourist visas in my now-abused passport.
O you rag-tag tatter of tenement housing and kebap shops, I can now truly call you home! 
Why would I want to do this, you ask? Am I not satisfied with my quarto-annual sojourns into Bulgaria, the land of cheap beer and hearty pork? Ah, on the contrary. Nothing pleases me more than shouting a big Na sdravi to my northern neighbor. No, the motivation for my quest for legal residence has been a job offer by Isik University. I have been wooed, courted, and am now bet
rothed to a fine Institution of Higher Education, nestled in the hills and forests, overlooking the Black Sea. A private beach, free lunches, and my very own desk have lured me away from the cheap whore that is English Time toward the slightly more dignified (and much more perfumed) Lady Isik.
After doing some research and talking to some veterans, I have discovered a loophole in the Turkish immigration laws that allows anyone who can legally claim residence to change the status of their visa within the country. This has, inshallah, saved me the price of a plane ticket, the inconvenience of a much-unwelcome holiday in America, and the psychological damage of air travel. Now, if it all works out as easy as it sounds...
In other news, my contract at English Time ends in 3 weeks. This leaves me a full 2 months until my new job begins, appropriately, on September 11th. I welcome any and all of you to come explore some isolated, impoverished, and most likely, incredibly dangerous countries with me (Ukraine, Moldova, Romania, etc.) While most of you would shudder at a holiday in the former Eastern bloc in the same way that I shudder at Middle America, if you would like to drown in cheap vodka and chug around in rotting Communist-era trains, I invite you along.
I apologize for the brief update, but the hour is late, and I've a big, recently-vacated bed to stretch myself out into. Give my love to anyone who deserves it. But remember, my standards are a lot higher than yours, so be sparing.
With an individual bow to each of you, I bid you adieu! Hosca kal! Dobry vecer!
Forever dancing on the backs of broken Empires,
Aaron
