Carnival knowledge; otherwise known as jet lag delight

There's something about jet lag that I covet; there is bliss in an absurd time schedule. Because Hawaii is 12 time zones and up to 13 hours time difference away from Turkey, my body goes through a lot of change when I travel back and forth between homes. As with my body, so does my mind.

Wherever my body exists, as opposed to wherever my mind thinks I am, I enjoy the nights. It's like a transformation into something different. By something different, I mean I see the night different- even if I often enough stay up until 2 am.

Something comes alive.  It's dreamy. Take today for instance; I went to work at 8 am, and returned home at 9 am... Yes, that is another story; I failed to read the email on the previous day (because I, again, left early- due to jet lag of course) stating that if we didn't have anything to do we didn't have to show up... So... I show up - it takes an hour before I even read that email- and start to organize. BAM and I'm so fast outta there on a slow dolmus back to Büyükdere, my village away from my village. I'm re-familiarizing all the sights, smells and sounds of Istanbul. I do love this about returning- anywhere that holds a place in my heart actually. Now that I have my sea legs back, I venture forth to 'our çay bache' (tea garden) for the requisite Turkish-style bitter tea served in dainty tulip-shaped thin glass with 2 cubes of sugar. Note that I only use 1/2 of 1 sugar cube... and only because it is necessary...

EdVice eventually shows up and we wax poetic about our recent travels. The day is a beauty; mid 80s with a light wind to kiss away the sweet, sweat dewdrops amassing as soldiers on the battlefield of ones upper lip. I proudly display my new belt ("gay leather belt") as EdVice so faux-flippantly describes it. We end up concurring that it is, in fact, utilitarian, if not a bit retro. I'd like to think a more modern adaptation for its meaning; Burning Man residue that is city-slicker friendly vibe.

We cover all topics of immediate interest; more importantly I declare a decree- demanding that 'we' (Brownie Walkers of Shame) venture off at the weekend to check out the newest Bosporus Bridge that finally opened to traffic this summer in our neck of the woods. Kitty Kat talk obviously surfaces. Our çay bache is in fact the nesting ground of their newest edition, Betty Poop (the suffix is my invention alone- as a term of endearment stemming from her wonder years and certain difficulties she experiences in her transition becoming a kept kitty kat.

Our walkabout consisted of cruising to a few markets... another byproduct of jet lag is that it becomes a free ticket to shun from exercising that carries, to a certain degree, a meaningful amount of validity. Whatever.  I'll take it. EdVice, just returning from Canada was outfitted in autumnal fashion ultimately complimented with a felt Fedora. We are obviously both excited for the arrival of fall weather and all the good cheer that rides alongside that wave. Not that you would gather that from my summer outfit.

Yes, back to that summer outfit and the ultimate accessory I was sporting, affectionately now known as my 'gay leather belt'. It is indeed special- mostly because every time I wear it I will think about MisSimone, who gave it to me! I can honestly say that it is a perfect city accessory if one doesn't like to carry a purse, etc. There are enough pockets in it to carry keys, money, chapstick/lipstick and cell phone without looking overloaded. I'm totes digging on it.  I will rock the shit outta that piece. It's cute with an edge to boot.

Back home doing my thing, I eventually fall into deep slumber- for perhaps up to 3.5 hours... Not good.  Here I am at 10:45pm totally buzzing, which is nothing unusual in itself, but will continue on into the wee hours of early morning I already know. This is it though; this is the addiction to jet lag. I guarantee you all that these frivolous hours will turn to gold. Whatever that means to me, I realize I cannot possibly describe to you all... but I think many will get :) 

I've already updated my Spotify with new music after stalking FB friends' lists, etc. I've worn out the kitties with their new toys. I've brushed their fur to the point of shine so bright that their coats reflect light- sparkaliscious! I've unpacked all my delightful potions. I'm digging on my daybed set-up that perhaps Settar, Mizgin or Zeyneb set up- each had a stint in kitty-kat sitting during my travels. I'm indulging in succulent, juicy nectarines that are at every green grocers right now- fashionably in season.  Right now I'm multi-tasking, thinking how to stream Hemlock Grove season 2 since Netflix Turkey sucks and it's not showing up as an option...

The list is endless. Jet lag nights helps me to check off things on this endless list I find.  One year, upon return to Maui, I watched the entire 1st season of Game of Thrones in 3 days of dazed stupor. Speaking of dazed stupor, thanks for the use of your couch for that Katie-girl!

Speaking of Katie-girl, we have this thing for podcasts.  Perhaps this is a thing for all archaeologists though, to get through all those mind-boggling hours spent monitoring bulldozers while standing in the hot sun, or the pouring rain, or relentless winds blowing sand in your face... Anyway, I have 2 new fab podcasts to soak up, one of which I already knew about but was holding off on.  So, Serial season 2 is revving up- such as season 1 did with Adnon and the murder mystery.  Season 2 deals with an American soldier stationed in Afghanistan who goes AWOL one day as he tires of the war machine. In short, he gets kidnapped by Al Qaeda, blah blah blah. I'm sure most of you heard the news story when it went down about 2 years ago?

The 2nd podcast is just golden. Katie-girl is right; it is OUR podcast. You see, we were semi-serious years back in wanting to do an archaeology podcast, "As the Trowel Turns", coined by us and countless others no doubt... I even made up a twitter account and posted snippets and pictures. We coveted this idea, yet had no time to deal with it. My Favorite Murder has everything we envisioned in ours; dialogue, intrigue and fun, except this one is about murder. The 2 chicks have a great chemistry with enough content, comedy and drama all in a laid-back style of letting it come out as it will. Their storytelling style is just easy to follow. I mean, I'm not even that interested in murder!  It is really about their dynamics.

So, I think I'm over the computer at this point in the evening and will move on to something more organic. Speaking of organic - trees, paper- I'm reading The Master and Margarita right now. Just started it so getting to know the characters.  This is always fun when entering into a new book that you are getting into.

UPDATE: Sweet kitty Shaika Spot was lying next to my feet and it just wasn't close enough and she had to get up and lay ON my feet. *Collective "awwww" I can hear from afar right now* The kitties and I had a fab reunion- as always.  Shaika is just lovey dovey, and cagey, and curious. Sami Bey is more introspective, I guess.  He is analyzing, wondering. He plays the good cop bad cop all in one, starting off as indifferent bad cop. Then when he's had enough shunning me, he creeps up to rest next to me, giving in to my affections, if cautiously. I love seeing his transformation.  The kits; their personalities are so different. Like kids, I suppose. Yea, family. My beast family :)

It's feeling pretty good to be back in the 'bul indeed