The packing part of the move is over, at least on the Atlanta end. The movers came yesterday and packed everything up under my watchful, and very stressed out, eyes. It's really hard watching someone wrap up your treasured possesions without the care and eight layers of bubble wrap that you might be inclined to use. Now we just need to wait until mid-November to receive our things on the other side.
Now that the move is over I'm free to follow up on any number of tasks I need to complete, such as updating my resume and contacting my old University for some missing information in order to get a job when I get home. I should also have time to play with my friends who I've missed while away. And watch TV. The strangest thing I've seen since I got here is "The Surreal Life" which is indeed surreal. It's a "real world" take off with celebrities, including Brigette Nielsen, Flava Flav, and Charo, amoung others. Bridgette spends a lot of time drunk and nude, and Flava Flav is a very strange fellow. Apparently there was another season with Ron Jeremy, Tammy FayeBaker, and Vanilla Ice (amoung others) which I'm very sad I missed.
I miss my boy. I'll be more than ready to head back to Melbourne in a week.

Frances. The family is okay, apparently, but no word yet on how the houses in Cocoa Beach and Cape Canaveral fared.

Was glad to see that they have Six Feet Under here on regular TV. Totally unedited, too. I am still wigging from last night's episode.

The bulk of our packages mailed from Singapore have arrive, after nine weeks. They promised five to seven, but we're more relieved than angry. Still three more on the way. There are now twenty-seven boxes in this little studio rathole apartment I'm staying in until the end of the week. Then I get to move them all myself. What fun.