Sigh.

Yet another bombing in India...this time in a place that I know very well in Delhi...sorta like a Times Square analog.  I have nerves about this whole thing myself, since the chaos of India makes it extraordinarily easy to bomb crowded areas...but I'm mostly concerned because I know my mother is very concerned and that she is going to spend the next month fretting about this stuff.  Sucks.

Anyway, I don't really have much else to report from my vacation except that I've been spending my time in Istanbul (total of about 10 days), in the ocean, sun, and scooters of Fetiyeh and Oludeniz on the south side of the country, and a couple of days in the second largest city in the country, Antalya.   I normally would have long introspective travel diaries...but I don't really think I have that much to reflect on at this point.  I think the main reason is that most of my travels generally involve extensive interaction with locals in one language or another (English and Kannada in India, Chinese in China, and English in many other places) ...while this trip really has been primarily comprised of interactions with my friends and the places we visit.  Turns out surprising few people speak English here...so it's really hard to just avoid feeling like an outsider and a tourist.

In other less interesting news (right?), I have managed to read several books, all of which I enjoyed:

Run - Ann Patchett

The Great Gatsby    

Slam - Nick Hornby

And currently I'm reading Atlas Shrugged...which I'm not going to comment on because I've been informed that my opinions on the novel will change as I get further into the book (400+ pages so far).  Let me say only this:  Boy can she suck the life out of sex.

As a final note, I'm letting Margaret attempt to cut my hair.  Chances are I will return with a shaved head.