Little things can make someone happy or unhappy. Sometimes like getting a call, a message from someone you care about, getting a letter, catching up over coffee, or a nice gesture that you were not expecting. At the same time though those very little things could get under your skin and annoy you endlessly. Like not getting that call or that message someone you care about.
Unfortunately, life doesn't go the way we plan it. If anything I know that best in life. Nothing ever goes the way I plan, envision and hope for. Things end up drastically different from what I had always wanted for myself...still I can't complain. Things happen the way they do for me, eventually with a lot of difficulty, sweat, shatters and a lot of sleepless nights. Even though they never end up the way I planned them, things always have a way of working out for the better, at the end. At least, that's what I had come to realize in the past years, after so many mistakes, trials, disappointments and heart breaks. I can only see this point of view as a hindsight, only going back in time I'm able to say that, regardless it's the attitude I've decided to take. There is no other way of getting out of things.
No doubt, relationships are hard and I personally think broken promises are hardest to deal with, explain to one's self and more challenging to reminiscence and think about when you travel to the mystic past. These are hard to face, especially for me. Being on the same page, at all times is difficult. It requires a lot of compromising and sacrifices--sometimes more than the individuals are willing to give up on their part. Sometimes timing is off. For example, I just have a lot on my plate right now. I am not going to mention all other things in my life, but simply having Irem over (which I want to devote every minute possible to her and to ensure her experience here is a riveting positive one), having to work, trying to do some sort of academic work (in this case it would be my endeavors as an aspiring writer and trying to figure out my school situation and afterwards going to Turkey and spending time there with my family and Yakup. I am especially looking forward to spending time with Yakup. Right now, he is who and what I need the most. (That is entirely another different blog post, for another time).
I have never quite been a romantic. I've always been skeptical about love and well, have taken those sentiments a little cynical. I do know that some people get to experience true, passionate love so deeply. I do not dare to doubt that. I just don't think majority of people are capable of experiencing those emotions. There are select chosen few that shall know the true bliss of love, while the rest of us, wretchedly pull through. I am even more skeptical and well a true nonbeliever of relationships. It works hardly...and my grown adult relationships are working out a lot less...increasingly and incessantly.
A lot has been taken away from me and so much has changed about me that sometimes I'm having a difficult time in recognizing myself, my thoughts, my reactions and most importantly, often my emotions and even more often, my lack of emotion. I've grown fiercely independent, separated my own personality from my family (regardless of efforts to be a tightly knit family--which is all together different, especially in the Turkish tradition and culture) and have grown distant. My intimate close friendships have dwindled down to the core. I've only kept the essentials in my life. The others have gotten scratched off. I keep in touch perhaps, but the nature of those relationships have become quite arbitrary, abundant and shallower than the tip of the iceburg. Just knowing one doesn't mean having meaningful bonds. That's what most people have been reduced to for me. I sound extremely bitter and cold right now. Maybe, that's exactly what I have become, a cold, bitter bitch.
I haven't been able to think that relationships work in general. I think exactly the opposite. Relationships don't work. Especially if one or both parties are independent and awkward like me. Those who value detachment, time and space. It's just not applicable to the rules of relationship creating friction and hurting one another in the long run.
Sometimes, I wish I could take things back. Regardless, I regret nothing. This was something I needed to go through is all I can say right now. For what purpose is beyond my capabilities of understanding at the moment. I have no foresight to that question.
I also think I underestimated my scars and wounds. I guess there is a first time for everything to happen though.
So let the time to take care of deals, issues come along and the healing process begin.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Individual Time
I haven't had any time for myself...practically, ever since I came here, but any time to myself for the past two weeks any alone, any quiet time or even any intellectual stimulation has eluded me. It's impossible to scrape five minutes for myself.
I am always around someone, or a group of people, or at work, or at home with either the TV on or the music on, people continually talking, shouting, screaming, vehemently trying to tell their side of the story for the past 3o years, their challenges and the trials of their freedom, the price of their sacrifices. Discussion, disagreements, arguments, everyone vying for their side to be considered the truth, to triumph and to win eventually. My head is about ready to explode. There is so much going on up there, I scantly get the chance to write to express myself. Scratch that, thinking is a big task and it gives me headaches at this point.
Unfortunately there is going to be a big whiplash and or a big emotional bomb to explode when this is over with. There is going to be a great after-storm that will leave me with a lot of personal and family mess to deal with. Things like these are always in two phases. The initial phase of what is going on currently and then the messy emotional phase, after the fact of the actions, consequences of decisions. The second is so much more painful and harder to cope with.
I haven't been able to read, write the way I would like to. For Heaven's Sake, I barely get the chance to sleep. The billion things I do, like vocab, grammar, working through short stories, anthologies, literary devices, criticisms, schools and well a billion other things like, how to write a short story kind of stuff...none of it has been touched. My novels are left stranded on my parents' dinner table, awaiting some sort of affection and understanding from me.
So, when it comes to me doing things for myself, whether it is reading a short story or spending ten minutes on facebook, I refuse to be made to feel guilty and that there was a better way to spend my time, like call or make the time to connect to someone else or other a group of people. If at that moment, that is what I want to do; for example, get on facebook, read a short-story, or write then without having to account my time to anyone else, that is what I should be able to do. All of these restrictions on my time is not something I am used to (other than the ones I create myself) and it gets on my nerves increasingly. I am never alone, and if I do get the chance to do anything, it's like in between two things, like when I am getting a ride, for example to work, if I am picking someone up, or being dropped off or picked up by the car. So if people are going to start comparing saying that I should have called instead of giving myself the ten minutes or the half an hour or the hour I needed to myself instead of sacrificing that some more to keep in touch with others....I am going to be furious. I need some sort of me time to be able to regroup myself.
Some distance and time off does great things to people. I am one of those people. If I act too quickly, right at that moment of my emotional intensity, I say and do things I later regret. Letting me go and letting me do stuff on my own time, on my own terms is the only way I can interact with people as selfish, rude, crude and unbearable that sounds. I've always known that I've been a difficult person. I've never made anything easy on anyone, most importantly on myself. I've probably created way too many obstacles and tormented myself, placing too many arbitrary restrictions on myself when there wasn't the need for one. I have also realized that I've grown to be a very recluse, solitary and quiet loving person. I don't like constant attachments, constant gestures of love, constant repetitions of reaffirming these feelings with words. It strains and suffocates me, as horrid as that sounds. I have a free soul that just likes to roll around in the wind and let the current take me where it will. I used to swim against the current, trying to make the world, life, God, the universe and others bend to my will and get my way with everything. I've given that up now for the past four years. It's too difficult to be constantly swimming against the current. It drains you not only physically but the wear of mental exhaustion is one that cannot be recovered unlike the physical one. You never look at the world the same way again. So here I am, looking at it from an exhausted point of view where the only thing I want to do is to be away from people, society and do my own thing in the four walls of my own sanctuary. I want it so that no one can reach me, cocooned and warm, judging life from the small parameter of my own home much like Emily Dickinson. There hasn't been a time in my life where I wanted to be more alone before.
Tomorrow is going to be a long day. Although it is my off day (much to my dismay at this point) but I have to go to another city to help my mom take care of some issues in which we'll take Irem along (so she isn't home by herself all day long). The good thing is that Marie has invited us over for dinner. That I am looking forward to.
I am always around someone, or a group of people, or at work, or at home with either the TV on or the music on, people continually talking, shouting, screaming, vehemently trying to tell their side of the story for the past 3o years, their challenges and the trials of their freedom, the price of their sacrifices. Discussion, disagreements, arguments, everyone vying for their side to be considered the truth, to triumph and to win eventually. My head is about ready to explode. There is so much going on up there, I scantly get the chance to write to express myself. Scratch that, thinking is a big task and it gives me headaches at this point.
Unfortunately there is going to be a big whiplash and or a big emotional bomb to explode when this is over with. There is going to be a great after-storm that will leave me with a lot of personal and family mess to deal with. Things like these are always in two phases. The initial phase of what is going on currently and then the messy emotional phase, after the fact of the actions, consequences of decisions. The second is so much more painful and harder to cope with.
I haven't been able to read, write the way I would like to. For Heaven's Sake, I barely get the chance to sleep. The billion things I do, like vocab, grammar, working through short stories, anthologies, literary devices, criticisms, schools and well a billion other things like, how to write a short story kind of stuff...none of it has been touched. My novels are left stranded on my parents' dinner table, awaiting some sort of affection and understanding from me.
So, when it comes to me doing things for myself, whether it is reading a short story or spending ten minutes on facebook, I refuse to be made to feel guilty and that there was a better way to spend my time, like call or make the time to connect to someone else or other a group of people. If at that moment, that is what I want to do; for example, get on facebook, read a short-story, or write then without having to account my time to anyone else, that is what I should be able to do. All of these restrictions on my time is not something I am used to (other than the ones I create myself) and it gets on my nerves increasingly. I am never alone, and if I do get the chance to do anything, it's like in between two things, like when I am getting a ride, for example to work, if I am picking someone up, or being dropped off or picked up by the car. So if people are going to start comparing saying that I should have called instead of giving myself the ten minutes or the half an hour or the hour I needed to myself instead of sacrificing that some more to keep in touch with others....I am going to be furious. I need some sort of me time to be able to regroup myself.
Some distance and time off does great things to people. I am one of those people. If I act too quickly, right at that moment of my emotional intensity, I say and do things I later regret. Letting me go and letting me do stuff on my own time, on my own terms is the only way I can interact with people as selfish, rude, crude and unbearable that sounds. I've always known that I've been a difficult person. I've never made anything easy on anyone, most importantly on myself. I've probably created way too many obstacles and tormented myself, placing too many arbitrary restrictions on myself when there wasn't the need for one. I have also realized that I've grown to be a very recluse, solitary and quiet loving person. I don't like constant attachments, constant gestures of love, constant repetitions of reaffirming these feelings with words. It strains and suffocates me, as horrid as that sounds. I have a free soul that just likes to roll around in the wind and let the current take me where it will. I used to swim against the current, trying to make the world, life, God, the universe and others bend to my will and get my way with everything. I've given that up now for the past four years. It's too difficult to be constantly swimming against the current. It drains you not only physically but the wear of mental exhaustion is one that cannot be recovered unlike the physical one. You never look at the world the same way again. So here I am, looking at it from an exhausted point of view where the only thing I want to do is to be away from people, society and do my own thing in the four walls of my own sanctuary. I want it so that no one can reach me, cocooned and warm, judging life from the small parameter of my own home much like Emily Dickinson. There hasn't been a time in my life where I wanted to be more alone before.
Tomorrow is going to be a long day. Although it is my off day (much to my dismay at this point) but I have to go to another city to help my mom take care of some issues in which we'll take Irem along (so she isn't home by herself all day long). The good thing is that Marie has invited us over for dinner. That I am looking forward to.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Bachelorette Parties
Considering I've only been to one and having shown late for the party itself barely gives me any information to form an opinion on.
But it feels offensive and, well, out of the line for me. I am no prude, by any means of sexuality. I believe people should be raised in environments where their confidence, looks, body image, self esteem should be positively harbored and positively displayed, expressed without black lashes of the societies or individuals such as negative stigmatization, name calling, labeling and judgement due to sexual choices, changing the thought pattern until "promiscuity" isn't used for being a "slut".
It was fun, there were no strippers, however my group of friends ended up going to a strip club. It was fun to just dance, make fun of tradition and other things, tease Eliza, eat lots of good food, have penis themed party favors and decorations.
But, is it really necessary? I think instead going out to have fun with a group of girls (often one at that) is necessary. Women need to be able to have a close bond of few girl friends for well, girl time, and sometimes to share the burdens of being a women in the 21st century. Is it really how you want to set precedence to your married life? Don't get me wrong, by no means am I a marriage supporter. In fact I abhor the thought of marriage weddings and everything else that comes with those two words. I think it's an antiquated obligation that's mainly forced down on women across the globe, also highly marketed and far too consumerist market in the industrialized countries that's well in technology age. I think less people should get married. But that..again that's entirely my opinion. And if you are getting married, why is this piece of cultural artifact, traditional principal necessary? Doesn't it go against everything the patriarchal culture believe in? Of course the very opposite can be said about Bachelor parties...but that's besides the topic here today and this blog.
But it feels offensive and, well, out of the line for me. I am no prude, by any means of sexuality. I believe people should be raised in environments where their confidence, looks, body image, self esteem should be positively harbored and positively displayed, expressed without black lashes of the societies or individuals such as negative stigmatization, name calling, labeling and judgement due to sexual choices, changing the thought pattern until "promiscuity" isn't used for being a "slut".
It was fun, there were no strippers, however my group of friends ended up going to a strip club. It was fun to just dance, make fun of tradition and other things, tease Eliza, eat lots of good food, have penis themed party favors and decorations.
But, is it really necessary? I think instead going out to have fun with a group of girls (often one at that) is necessary. Women need to be able to have a close bond of few girl friends for well, girl time, and sometimes to share the burdens of being a women in the 21st century. Is it really how you want to set precedence to your married life? Don't get me wrong, by no means am I a marriage supporter. In fact I abhor the thought of marriage weddings and everything else that comes with those two words. I think it's an antiquated obligation that's mainly forced down on women across the globe, also highly marketed and far too consumerist market in the industrialized countries that's well in technology age. I think less people should get married. But that..again that's entirely my opinion. And if you are getting married, why is this piece of cultural artifact, traditional principal necessary? Doesn't it go against everything the patriarchal culture believe in? Of course the very opposite can be said about Bachelor parties...but that's besides the topic here today and this blog.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Simply Sinbad's
Working at Sinbad's is both a joy and a challenge. It's fast paced, demanding, rules are always set and always broken, servers growing annoyed and irritated due to the, well spoiled assholes that occupy the tables and chairs at Sinbad's.
Workers tend to grow close, fond of each other creating a small community, tightly knit, continuing on long after people get fired or quit themselves, more than keeping in touch, remaining close friends.
However, there are also notorious fights and intense screaming, yelling, accusations and well, tip stealing, sneaking around about tables and such. They can end up giving such a hard time during your shift you can end up crying to go home.
Work itself is demanding, challenging and physical. It's physical with all the damn trays, food, drinks, the stairs and the long hallway to the kitchen from the door. The customers are rude at best, selfish, self interested and everyone who comes in through the door think they own Sinbad's because the owners talk to everyone and try to make them "feel at home". While this sounds great on paper or to the ear, it's not realistic and disadvantageous when applied to restaurants. After all, this is a restaurant and you are not at home. Since this is an establishment, there are rules even customers needs to heed. Alas leaving us at our never ending daily dilemmas.
But regardless, I always have loved working at Sinbad's. Unluckily, there is no Sinbad's in where I regularly live.
Workers tend to grow close, fond of each other creating a small community, tightly knit, continuing on long after people get fired or quit themselves, more than keeping in touch, remaining close friends.
However, there are also notorious fights and intense screaming, yelling, accusations and well, tip stealing, sneaking around about tables and such. They can end up giving such a hard time during your shift you can end up crying to go home.
Work itself is demanding, challenging and physical. It's physical with all the damn trays, food, drinks, the stairs and the long hallway to the kitchen from the door. The customers are rude at best, selfish, self interested and everyone who comes in through the door think they own Sinbad's because the owners talk to everyone and try to make them "feel at home". While this sounds great on paper or to the ear, it's not realistic and disadvantageous when applied to restaurants. After all, this is a restaurant and you are not at home. Since this is an establishment, there are rules even customers needs to heed. Alas leaving us at our never ending daily dilemmas.
But regardless, I always have loved working at Sinbad's. Unluckily, there is no Sinbad's in where I regularly live.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Park Ave. Festival
The infamous Park Ave. Fest took place last weekend from early Saturday morning until Sunday evening.
They close off the entire street where no cars are allowed, people rush into the avenue, sidewalks cluttered with white tents, in it ornaments, art and a lot of useless crap are sold at usually high prices. There are fun things like, caricature drawings, live music (not always good music, or even talented singers and musicians--music nonetheless) and endless supply of food, all kinds of food: fast food, restaurants of different cuisines, candy and snacks, traditional favorites like cotton candies. That part is my favorite part of the festival. People get drunk about three in the afternoon and remain drunk until Sunday morning where people can't wake up before three in the afternoon and hung over well into Monday. It's really an excuse to drink and well, go wild and get arrested for inappropriate decency.
It's also fun when you're not working a double shift both days, starting early, getting off late, when it's not humid, stiflingly hot and overbearingly busy. Oh, it's definitely not a walk in the park when you're fasting as well. Not a drop of liquid, or a bite of solids. Nothing at all. To work at a restaurant is a hard work, but to do that fasting, on top at a Park ave. Festival, I was ready to fall off the face of the earth and become one with my bed. Dealing with drunk customers is extraordinarily challenging is the icing on the cake.
Regardless, for the past three years, I had not attended the Park Ave. Fest. Attending old time regulars has brought up many memories and it was also an easy way to entertain my guest here. Squeezing her in between my one or two hour breaks between two shifts both days was not something I was crazy about, or even proud of...or even liked for that matter. I wish I could have devoted a large amount of time to go through each store, carefully, while stuffing our faces. But we did get our caricature drawn and she was able to buy cupcakes and we ended up taking lots of photos and having a lot of laughs at others' expense...However, as long as she had a good time, I can't have too much to complain about.
Learning to take the good with the bad :)
They close off the entire street where no cars are allowed, people rush into the avenue, sidewalks cluttered with white tents, in it ornaments, art and a lot of useless crap are sold at usually high prices. There are fun things like, caricature drawings, live music (not always good music, or even talented singers and musicians--music nonetheless) and endless supply of food, all kinds of food: fast food, restaurants of different cuisines, candy and snacks, traditional favorites like cotton candies. That part is my favorite part of the festival. People get drunk about three in the afternoon and remain drunk until Sunday morning where people can't wake up before three in the afternoon and hung over well into Monday. It's really an excuse to drink and well, go wild and get arrested for inappropriate decency.
It's also fun when you're not working a double shift both days, starting early, getting off late, when it's not humid, stiflingly hot and overbearingly busy. Oh, it's definitely not a walk in the park when you're fasting as well. Not a drop of liquid, or a bite of solids. Nothing at all. To work at a restaurant is a hard work, but to do that fasting, on top at a Park ave. Festival, I was ready to fall off the face of the earth and become one with my bed. Dealing with drunk customers is extraordinarily challenging is the icing on the cake.
Regardless, for the past three years, I had not attended the Park Ave. Fest. Attending old time regulars has brought up many memories and it was also an easy way to entertain my guest here. Squeezing her in between my one or two hour breaks between two shifts both days was not something I was crazy about, or even proud of...or even liked for that matter. I wish I could have devoted a large amount of time to go through each store, carefully, while stuffing our faces. But we did get our caricature drawn and she was able to buy cupcakes and we ended up taking lots of photos and having a lot of laughs at others' expense...However, as long as she had a good time, I can't have too much to complain about.
Learning to take the good with the bad :)
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Fasting
Ramadan is here and I fasted for seven straight days. Really, I am not bragging. Because, well I couldn't fast for the past two days because I lost two and a half pounds.
Fasting is a tedious thing. It's more than challenging and keeps your plate pretty full--ironically. Your stomach muscles shrink leaving you with this antagonizing subtle plain all day long. It feels like your stomach is glued to your back--your ribs. Thirst is even harder to deal with. It's a constant pain, it feels like sanding paper against your tongue, your throat and down to your lungs. You just can't get that feeling out of your body. You are constantly counting down the hours you can start eating and drinking again, but surprise, surprise, when you can actually eat, you actually don't have the appetite to eat. You go on starving for the rest of the week until you start getting used to eating one meal and then constantly snacking until sun rise.
It was extremely challenging to work through the Park Ave. Festival and also to Fast at the same time. It was humid, extremely hot, extremely busy and beyond tense that I cannot properly describe it. But I am proud of myself that I didn't cave in and broke my fast.
However, when fasting, everything is ready to blow up, you're a fuse box that has blown up and relooking to blow up again...easily agitated and you're in an irritable mood. It's hard to live up to the expectations listed in the Qur'an when you're fasting, like cleaning your heart, mind and soul so you can become not only a better Muslim, but also a better person. Become kinder, learn to forgive and understand, reconcile and keep your temper in check, your violence and the desires of the selfish, humanly anchored thoughts into the worldly principles.
Fasting is a tedious thing. It's more than challenging and keeps your plate pretty full--ironically. Your stomach muscles shrink leaving you with this antagonizing subtle plain all day long. It feels like your stomach is glued to your back--your ribs. Thirst is even harder to deal with. It's a constant pain, it feels like sanding paper against your tongue, your throat and down to your lungs. You just can't get that feeling out of your body. You are constantly counting down the hours you can start eating and drinking again, but surprise, surprise, when you can actually eat, you actually don't have the appetite to eat. You go on starving for the rest of the week until you start getting used to eating one meal and then constantly snacking until sun rise.
It was extremely challenging to work through the Park Ave. Festival and also to Fast at the same time. It was humid, extremely hot, extremely busy and beyond tense that I cannot properly describe it. But I am proud of myself that I didn't cave in and broke my fast.
However, when fasting, everything is ready to blow up, you're a fuse box that has blown up and relooking to blow up again...easily agitated and you're in an irritable mood. It's hard to live up to the expectations listed in the Qur'an when you're fasting, like cleaning your heart, mind and soul so you can become not only a better Muslim, but also a better person. Become kinder, learn to forgive and understand, reconcile and keep your temper in check, your violence and the desires of the selfish, humanly anchored thoughts into the worldly principles.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Irem is here.
Irem is here. I couldn't be more excited. It's like back to my childhood days. I laugh, I do funny and stupid things, laying around, lounging and make ridiculous bodily noises...I am happy once again.
Irem has been good to me and is bound to do more good to me in the future. It's like catching glimpses of happiness and peace through the patches of past memories reminiscing and filling up the holes that were created in gaps of time.
Innocence, naive and childhood kind of goes hand in hand. I am not a big advocate of remaining innocent and naive and advocate that is what is worth in girls, those who deserve happiness--quite the contrary. But it never hurts to have it in a safe harbor, available to access with the right people. Having that access is another issue. It's difficult to have reserves of that and also mature, wise up as the experiences in life adds up to cynicism and diminishing the dreams of the past--they hardly carry over to the present. But with Irem, it's so easy...as easy as breathing, easily things fall into their own places. Things that has been set in stone, she has the capability of overturning them. Into my younger years in Turkey I turned, when I was 8-10 years old, where life was something much different than the way it is today. I observed it thoroughly from vastly different binoculars.
It's like recovering the old times without the difficult and shocking, nasty, after taste, without the negativity holding up and electrocuting each cell individually.
I am so glad Irem is here. She is going to do wonders for me and to heal me, perhaps help me turn into a nicer person once again as I used to be, help me become someone nicer and perhaps inject the never ceasing positivism she's got in her soul into my bloodstream to become an overall happier person. :)
Irem has been good to me and is bound to do more good to me in the future. It's like catching glimpses of happiness and peace through the patches of past memories reminiscing and filling up the holes that were created in gaps of time.
Innocence, naive and childhood kind of goes hand in hand. I am not a big advocate of remaining innocent and naive and advocate that is what is worth in girls, those who deserve happiness--quite the contrary. But it never hurts to have it in a safe harbor, available to access with the right people. Having that access is another issue. It's difficult to have reserves of that and also mature, wise up as the experiences in life adds up to cynicism and diminishing the dreams of the past--they hardly carry over to the present. But with Irem, it's so easy...as easy as breathing, easily things fall into their own places. Things that has been set in stone, she has the capability of overturning them. Into my younger years in Turkey I turned, when I was 8-10 years old, where life was something much different than the way it is today. I observed it thoroughly from vastly different binoculars.
It's like recovering the old times without the difficult and shocking, nasty, after taste, without the negativity holding up and electrocuting each cell individually.
I am so glad Irem is here. She is going to do wonders for me and to heal me, perhaps help me turn into a nicer person once again as I used to be, help me become someone nicer and perhaps inject the never ceasing positivism she's got in her soul into my bloodstream to become an overall happier person. :)
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