Mirac Kandiliz Mubarek Olsun!

Herkesin Mirac Kandili Mubarek Olsun!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isra_and_Mi%27raj

So this is more or less a good way to begin to understand what Mirac Kandil is ...although it's a little difficult to keep up with the way that is written on the Wiki page and yet I had 24 years of this :).

I like observing of religious and nationalistic holidays. It's days like these that I miss being home the most though. I miss the rituals and the family gatherings, the stories told around after dinner and the laughter that booms against the walls of our pictured walls. The secret hush hush surprises between family members, the small news that travels in narrow circles before it gets to be blown up at the dinner table. *sigh*. I miss home.

Home shopping

I've been babbling in here quite often. I don't know why I publish half the stuff I publish here. Maybe because I can't really put them in my thought journal and I already have a billion other journals and this is rather convenient. But I think secretly, I have another reason. I think I want that person to know my mental process, nooks and corners of my mind and to be able to really figure me out--not just what I am saying, doing, reading, wearing, posting, but also writing in here. I do hope to share my other writings with that person...eventually. After I edit them heavily :) I don't want to be embarrassed or anything.

On that note, I am super excited to buy new stuff for my home. It's going to truly change tremendously in the  coming up weeks as my mom is sending stuff from Rochester and I am going to pile stuff up in here. I just bought a store cabinet, bunch of bathroom stuff, will buy a bookshelf on Friday and today I will probably go to Target to buy wall mounted shelves for my text books by my desk. This way my books can be better organized and can have a much easier access and success rate as I like to call it. Then buying a bathroom organizer is the last step. With that I should be ready for Irem's arrival with minor things here and there.

But buying stuff for home makes me excited and happy at the same time. I've never been one to be fond of shopping or spending hours and hours looking at stuff. My estimated mall trip is about 30 minutes where I'll just peak my head in and out of a number of stores. But I do like home shopping as long as it doesn't take longer than 30 minutes to locate, pay for those things. I don't really like looking at things to buy, trying to figure if I need something or not. Walking into the store, I already should know what I need and don't need to buy. I don't like aimlessly wandering at store aisles and nit picking things. It's just not me. I am too impatient for that. Regardless I can hardly wait to have everything in, assembled, cleaned and organized and see how my place looks.

Phone Conversations

Phone conversations can often be awkward, filled with tension and without the use of mimics and facial expressions can lead to a very stressful time for both people at either end of the line. Without proximity to a body, seeing reactions and feeling of closeness that face to face conversations have but what phone conversations lack we can't always assess what topic and how deep we can go in, often leading to disastrous phone conversations, especially if there is some sort of emotional entanglement.

Phones and I have a love-hate relationship. I love the fact that my mom can call me or I can call her whenever there is something I want to share; be it good or bad. She is one of the first people I want to turn to if I feel like crying, if I am frustrated about something, if I am hurt, or just as much when I am happy, if I meet someone new, if I have just bought new books, if I have come across something new and have discovered something about the universe. I always reach for my phone and try to get a hold of her. Then secondly, I love that I can call Yakup and feel so close no matter the distance between us (literally a thousand miles+) and the hour difference (8 hours) and I can always feel close to him. He'll tell me a joke, and make me laugh with that silly voice of his and there is no body I feel more comfortable with. These two people I can talk endlessly, for hours on the phone without losing that spark or magic, about anything and everything. From personal, specific to the general and to the impersonal.

However, I also hate it that everyone who could get a hold of my phone number could call me at any given time, at any given day, at any given place. Being that easily accessible and reachable is not something I set up for myself, nor is it something I would like to have in my personal resume. It also feels like a violation of my privacy. There are a million rules regarding phone number giving and taking and sometimes as much as I would love to refuse to give it away, circumstances require that I do. I hate phones very much at that moment. It's just a very ambivalent feeling towards technology I often have.

As a general rule, I don't like being on the phone for very long and I don't like to be on the phone with everyone. When I do have to have a conversation over the phone with other people, it's my objective to keep it under five minutes and be as clear, concise and direct as possible and say goodbye.

In addition, it's rather difficult to have a phone conversation you're just trying to get to know a person, with many puzzles and mysteries, quirks and dislikes and likes--recipe for a disaster is just ready to blow up. It's ready for a major disaster with one wrong word choice--I like avoiding that. It's also been a really long time that I was able to have a long phone conversation with a romance interest of mine. I usually refrain from trying to have long conversations or discuss serious topics over the phone with people in general. There is the potential for so many things to go wrong. Other than that I usually don't like to be on the phone very long, just saying what I need to say and hear what I need to hear, confirm and say my bye's eventually hanging up.

With all that being said today was not the first time, but an important sign that I am taking you to heart quite literately. It's a good sign. With you it's different. It feels like I could have long conversations about anything without any reservations and boldly. The conversation was smooth, without being forced and it's own flow without either one of us really pulling or pushing in one direction over the other. Today will be a good day :)

Well, Hello there :)

It's 6:43 a.m. in the morning. I am back again writing in here. What a productive last few hours I've had, especially in comparison to how my whole day was! My fingers are swollen from writing, they hurt and ache, it seems like no amount of cracking them can make them feel better and I am sitting on my couch, sheepishly grinning to myself, feeling light-hearted, happy and hopeful. I feel accomplished. What I call the writing-after effects are not to be taken slightly. They are highly addictive and makes the world turn around for people, aspiring writers to be. Have I mentioned I have not slept a wink?

I have my black silk robe which my mother calls the Madam's robe, I have pen all over my right hand fingers and undoubtedly on my face too. The sun has risen, I haven't slept a wink, I wrote a long journal entry, four page letter, this blog entry and will write poetry after this blog entry. I haven't had enough writing after all this and I am in pure bliss. I am not sure with which intentions I got on here, I forgot the point I wanted to make initially, but here I am, writing away in a silly sense that no one cares to begin with. But I am going to write away anyway, because it feels like there is so much my heart wants to say, so I am not going to have my mind put the limits on my writing and create caps on what it is that my fingers wants to type.

Relationships are scary. To be the person you always think you will be, the person and ideals you think of, write of are hard to display and to play in reality. They are. It's so much easier to write it as black and white and even spilling the rainbow--not that it's easy, just in comparison to living it in real life is harder--it's so much easier to do the easy thing and turn off conscious. After all, cultures across the globe are becoming increasingly hedonistic and seeking instant and self gratification. In that realm of reality, it's hard to set, adore, embrace and perform ideals, principles. It's difficult to argue for them and their necessity, you can forget about actually living and performing them. This definitely will be the test of character, wit, soul and heart for me, the upcoming months will surely either make me, or break me. I am obviously hoping to be the better person, come out on top, without sullies and wrongdoing to anyone. I can only pray for the best results, this doesn't mean God will give them to me unless I put forth everything I've got on it. As the Turkish saying goes, the pear won't just drop from the top of the tree directly into your mouth. We have to climb up and get it yourself. Surely then, you'll get a delicious one. Speaking of pears, I love pears.

Mm, back to what I was saying. Relationships are scary, they're scary because life there is no guarantee. No guarantee of a person, no guarantee of what you individually feel to begin with. Circumstances change and the possibilities of what could happen are endless. Any number of wrong or right things could bring you together or set you up for your demise.

But, putting those fate and destiny marks aside, they're hard because they take a lot to make it work. Few missing ingredients won't hold it together and everything will come undone. To be willing to give up from your individual desires, freedom, independence, goals and to work together for a greater "us", to be able to sacrifice and sometimes doing things you may not want to, considering the other person before yourself and putting his or her feelings, attitude, thoughts towards action X before deciding on not only life altering, but even in your daily, minimal actions. Relationships mean responsibility, caring and the willingness to make it work, and by putting forth the effort to prove it.

I think losing that independence for the safety harbor is not something everyone questions as much as movies might want to drizzle on that and make it seem it's what every guy/girl wants. But deep down, they'll always come up with characters that was just "looking" for the right person to be that homey and to give that independence up. It's not that easy and there should always be qualms about one's giving up of independence and freedom. You should question the person who doesn't fear this and embracing it rather too quickly.

On that thought is my cue to leave :)

I can't wait till two p.m. for amazing magic to happen.

Letters, Mail and the Green Eyed Monster

There is something magical about getting letters from family and friends in the mail. As much as I hate getting bills to pay, I love getting letters all that much more. Especially if they're written with care, love and attention, with lots of cheesy lines and sentimental feelings behind. Nothing beats getting a letter--more like a package from Turkey with pictures, letters and flowers from my old garden. That makes me happy beyond words. I love getting those beautifully hand written letters from my cousin that always includes poetry that I love and adore, and including religious information that I am not able to obtain anywhere else. I also love getting packages from my mom...what doesn't she put in those things, aside from the materialistic side of the equation. There is something about old fashioned things that technology's ease of information sharing and communication can't fulfill for me.

It is true with the innovative technologies we've all had our share of destroying the distances between two people. I think I am a great example of that. I have family still living in Turkey that are a big part of my heart and life, I have friends all over the world including Turkey and Australia. But no email is as important as a handwritten letter to me. It's cliche to say, I know, but there is something more sentimental in a letter that I can never find in an email. There is a part of the soul attached in a letter that you can never attach in an email although you can always attach a picture, a link, even an audio clip in an email. It should be more convenient. But maybe that's exactly the point. Emails are convenient and letters are not. You have to write them, you can't erase a blank field in a letter as you can with an email. You have to sign your name and put it in an envelope and send it through the postage system, sometimes even risking losing that letter/mail and patiently hope that it arrives safe and sound, hoping the recipient cares about it as much as you do and will reply as soon as they get your letter.

That being said, jealousy could be a green-eyed monster. I've always been the type of girl who has said jealousy is normal in love, in true love. The person who loves will be jealous and can lose him/herself unless the other party reassures, confirms and satisfies their jealousy with honest and genuine answers. I've always thought that without jealousy that feelings were not true and could have been affirmed. I still do believe that, with all of my heart. I also think that if you're jealous your partner shouldn't do certain things on purpose to drive you into the edge of insanity and care enough to quell that jealousy and madness and could watch a few words, acts and dressing. But if your partner is doing everything s/he possible can about fighting off those swarms and has not betrayed your trust in anyway before, you should trust them. There is jealousy and clear paranoia. However, sometimes if we keep repeating the same mistakes it just might drive the other person to think we're doing it on purpose and with a clear intent to betray them, or that we do not care enough about them to change small behaviors. Let me be clear though: you shouldn't ask that person to change their clothing, knowingly and intentionally try to make them feel bad about themselves, bruise their egos and break that person's self esteem and confidence. That's just your own low self esteem speaking and you can't seem to picture yourself next to the person you're with. You shouldn't be mean, condescending and conniving.If the person you're with is doing that, you're a lot better off ditching that person.

Cuts, piercings and happy summer days

Is body alteration a way of showing unsatisfaction in the way we appear at the moment? Quite possibly so. But the thing is, if we're seeking to change a few things here and there, it doesn't mean we're unhappy in our body, or that we view ourselves in the most negative way.

For example, it's often said that women change their hair when they're the most unhappy. I am sure it holds true for a lot of women, but this doesn't mean it's a rule to be followed by all women. Quite contrarily, I only do things to my hair when I am happy, in a more balanced state of mind and have found some sort of harmony in my life. Because I have the will to spend money on myself, the will to feel good and do something with myself. I only care enough when I am happy to notice what I want to do with it. Desires and yearnings arise then. In the past two years of my life I've been quite unhappy in my life, especially the last year and I had no initiative or even the motivation to do anything in the slightest to my hair. I've been happy for the past month or so and I recently got enough motivation to picture what I want and don't want with my hair and take the initiative to imagine what would look or or not. So I've been toying with the idea of getting a mohawk. I still want this, just after I come back from Turkey, as a way to hold a promise to my Yakup. Despite my good mood, my hair did turn out bad after getting a cut. I looked like a monkey escapee from a lab cage. Regardless, at least it's healthier now and I can take better care of it :)

On another good note, I've gotten my cartilage pierced. One I've wanted for a very long time and it feels great maybe because it's something realized after a long period of waiting, or maybe because a dream of sorts has been achieved after a long time. I like body arts such as tattoos, hennas and piercings. I want to have quite a few piercings and this is the beginning of a series of new piercings to come within this year. I'd like my nose, about eight-10 piercings on my ears, and a bottom lip piercing. I don't know why people are against piercings so highly and so adamantly. It's a bit of a guilty pleasure for me perhaps, but each piercing has a meaning behind them for me, some based on experiences, some are what they symbolize to me, and sometimes it's the physical pain that makes it symbolic to my own life.

All of my books from B&N has arrived today and my library has just gotten one step closer to getting completes. I am ecstatic about it and I cannot wait to devour through each line of each book and write in them with my marginal notes and highlight the important lines and symbolism to come or just good quotes. I am just itching to read them. I could stay up for nights and nights, and just ignore the rest of the world just to read through these books. Book love is like no other.

Overall it's been one heck of a day, I've missed having normal, good happy days. The amount of these days have increased tremendously in the past month, but I've become so accustomed to depressed, gloomy, tormented, agonizing days that I just don't know what to do with this sheer happiness. What's worst is that sometimes I don't even know how to contain nor share that joy. These days feel surreal and have dream like quality to them. You bet I am scared to death that these will be taken away from me. It feels like it's been years since I've laughed with my whole heart. I can't remember the last time I was light hearted. And I can't remember the last time I looked in peace towards the future and thinking about all the possibilities future might have in store for me for the first time makes me excited and hopeful, a good feeling about anything for the first time in...what feels like eternity. It feels incredible and it feels like I am living again.

There is a side of me that just wants to do with dangerous and wild things. I want to hear my heart pounding in my head as the blood rushes and my cheeks turn scarlet. Do something I haven't done before. Get lost perhaps...and maybe piercing takes it's edge off just a little bit ;).

Spirits

Have I mentioned how much I love independent and foreign films? What's that you're saying--no? Impossible that I've never mentioned this before. Well, let me repeat then, I love independent and foreign films. The topics are usually much more intriguing, cinematography is all that more appealing and story telling that much more creative. At the very least I don't feel like my brain cells have died at the end of the movie. I am not crying the past 90 minutes of my life was wasted and therefore should be returned back.

However, there is a much more dire and imposing topic on my mind that I can't seem to let go; Spirits, aka. alcohol. I've always been fond of alcohol and drinking. It's never been an issue to stop drinking for me. I've never liked the idea of blacking out, or drinking so much to a point of drunken frenzy of crazy shenanigans and throwing up everywhere with a guarantee of hangover the next morning. I don't need alcohol to do stupid stuff, I do that plenty in my daily life. Nor do I need alcohol to have a good time. I do outrageous stuff...somewhat and any wild behavior with sober and "crisp" mind.

My definition of enjoying alcohol isn't getting pissed drunk where I don't remember what I've done the previous night. I've never been fond of that. I also don't like people who likes to get drunk every weekend just to "have fun". I don't mind baby sitting good friends who might eventually sometimes get drunk. Baby sitting is meant for children, not adults and adults who can't handle their liquor by no means intrigue me--quite to the contrary, decreases my willingness to hang out with them. I like people who knows how to drink--properly. I also don't like people using alcohol as a cloak to hide under in order to lower their inhibitions without a guilty conscience, behave dangerously and perhaps engage in wild, not so ethical acts and come to possess not so moral thoughts. If you don't have the courage to do something on your own, with a conscience that has the possibility to feel remorse and guilt, and a sober mind to make that decision, don't use alcohol to do things you would normally never partake in and get away with any consequences and perhaps only a slap on the wrist. People should take responsibility for their actions and should choose to do acts because of their own free will, not drunken influences that has cerebrally left them impaired.

That kind of drinking has never, ever appealed to me. But I realize that it's easy for me to sit down here and type all of this out. I am one of the lucky people on this earth in regards to alcohol: I owe my alcohol etiquette to my family and the sect I come from. I've been around alcohol my entire life. My family, meaning grandparents, parents, aunts and uncles love to drink and serve alcohol. Ever since I could remember myself we've always had an alcohol stock. From Gin to Tequila, to all different kinds of Whiskey to Vodka to beer to Cognac and Brandy to mixers and wines. It was never locked away, it was never seen as an evil doer. I was always taught that I will get to taste it and enjoy alcohol when my age permitted it. Growing up, there weren't adults who got drunk at our house parties, weddings, engagement parties or other outings. People drank, people got a little red and boisterous, but they remained themselves with enough clear logic to tell stories of the past and explain religious rituals without messing it up or offending anyone. I had my first glass of wine on my 16th birthday party and I was encouraged to drink my first hard liquors in moderation under the watchful eyes of my parents. I was told to always drink with my mouth, slowly, on a full stomach as I was eating. I was told that I should never use alcohol to sully my heart with or to act cowardly and insanely. I should always try to build up my tolerance slowly and if I was unable to remain intact and respectful then I should decline drinking and avoid bringing shame to myself, my family and my sect. When I turned 21 my parents probably gave me one of the best advices to give in regards to alcohol. "Drink everything in moderation and don't mix and match it's not a clothing sale. Also if you do not have the money to buy average vodka, rum and tequila, don't buy cheap ones. Call us and we'll wire you the money." Therefore, I never had an animosity towards drinking, alcohol, nor did I have a love hate relationship where I regretted my actions the morning after. I never had to drink in secret and find other people's stashes or get myself a fake ID to get in to bars so I could drink. There was never any need for those as I could always have a glass of wine at dinner with my parents.

But, I realize now that not everyone has that kind of upbringing in regards to alcohol. In most societies as revered and loved as alcohol is everyone is taught that alcohol is bad. Alcohol should be avoided and we learn from pop culture that drinking means getting drunk beyond capability of comprehending the meaning of our actions. We are taught that alcohol is always used to erase away shyness and bring out the best and the fun character that lives deep inside even in the driest person in the world. Sometimes having this abundant levels of alcohol leaves a lot of young people but no choice to use it as a defense and, or coping mechanism. We are taught we should drink until we forget or cannot remember, not understanding that alcohol only enhances what we want to forget and we can't remember the good part of life, that is because alcohol itself has depressants in them. I think these kind of cultural learnings develop unhealthy ideas and ideals about alcohol that in turn not only has the possibility to hurt young individuals who are experiencing "unsolicited freedom" for the first time and even adults. This cultural outlook paves the way for the dependency on alcohol and the background of alcoholism to exist in such a detrimental way to destroy one's life.

While I would like to point out that I had never gotten drunk, this does not mean that I never got dizzy and drank more than I had estimated myself of capable. I enjoy a glass of wine as I read and definitely when I am writing poetry. I am sure there are entries in this blog's past where I have celebrated wine induced writing where it allowed me to just kind of shut out the world and take a closer look or perhaps just focus on one particular thing rather than everything at once. I also don't want to be seen as a champion of alcohol and putting all the blame on individuals; however I would like to highlight that it is an individual's choice what they decide to do with what's in the bottle. The liquid in the bottle reacts differently with everyone. It likes some and it doesn't like others so much.

Up until recently, I had no remorse for people who used alcohol as a medium for other things in their life such as controlling of other factions in their life, coping or a defense mechanism are just a few to name. I always taught that people who relied on alcohol as people with weak wills and wavering resolves to live at best. I couldn't understand their relationship and was judgmental towards it perhaps because I had no real life examples of someone who relied on alcohol to get through their daily life; be it emotional or physical strife and agony in my personal life. I did have one great-uncle who was later diagnosed with alcoholism, but I had never seen him destroy his life. To me he will always remain as the great uncle with clear blue eyes that always sung a song to us when he got "happy". He did much damage I learned years later, however that side of his drunkenness was never shown to me, nor did I ever see him act in strange behavior when he was drunk. Sometimes we need an invested, direct relationship examples or experiences to really see that sometimes it's not always about the weakened will or shaken resolve. Sometimes we just don't know any better and upbringing can have monumental effects on the way we see, view, understand and ultimately our relationship to alcohol. So, I'm relaxing my judgments and bias on alcoholism and the people who depend on this substance to go through life. This does not mean that I empathize with it, especially if the person has no will to change or is not showing the effort to clean their lives up. But, now I see that not everything can be as it seems and there could be other stories to tell besides the one that's written on the label of the bottle.