The Question on Everyone's Mind

Some of you will notice that this weblog is in happy possession of a new name. It is certainly cliche to make a big change or start anew on the first day of the new year, but, dagnabbit, I'm nothing if not cliche.

The old title, while an apt description of the author of this here weblog, frankly, was not inspired enough. I always had the nagging concern that I should change it, and that a little thought and effort would render something better. I imagine this is how the folks at Saturday Night Live feel all the time.

Besides, the title could become outdated and inaccurate with frightening and easy speed. One can't really be an expat if he is enjoined from expatriating himself in the country in which he wants to be expatriated. With my legal studies halfway concluded, and no job, no wife, and no (legally recognized) child, my prospects of being an expat grow dimmer by the moment. And I didn't want to turn this into "Confessions of A Guy Standing On the Other Side of the Chainlink Fence, Sighing Wistfully."

It's been a long time coming, but today, because of what I've done during the past few years, in college, mostly, at this cliche moment, change has come to this weblog.

The new title is a timeless question, one you hope never to ask, but, once uttered, one you must always answer. Knowing the correct response is often imperative, and may or may not have a bearing on the length or severity or the inevitable prison sentence.

The beauty of the question lies in that it can be asked anywhere, of anyone, and can yield any answer. Maybe they just want a donut. Maybe everybody is covered in blood. And they Won't. Stop. Screaming. Maybe the visa expired. Maybe the Guitar Hero is a little too loud. Maybe they're here for their annuity. Maybe someone finally told them what's hidden in the closet behind the suits.

I find that I've asked myself the titular question more times than I've liked, and so it has passed from being an expression of comically unwarranted surprise and into something that is asked with resignation tempered by somewhat inappropriate annoyance.

Nevertheless, it remains an important question that begs an answer. By having this question constantly staring me in the face, reminding me to always watch my actions, reminding me that the walls have ears and the hills have eyes, reminding me, most importantly, that the police could always be just outside, I will be aided in my efforts to remain, today as always, an expat.