Weekend Sleeper, Mover and Shaker...

Weekend Sleeper, Mover and Shaker...

I'm not the type to naturally sleep in late, really. This weekend, both days, I have woken up at 10 am. Unusual, yes. Embraced, yes- yet a perplexing embrace. Perplexing because I have to take the events leading up to this aberration into consideration. Folks, I've been doing nothing for a month but teaching classes, lesson planning at work, lesson-planning at home weekday nights, and then lesson-planning on the weekends...

I didn't sign up for this shit, did I? Well, I guess I did- but really I didn't. That's all imma say about this, but let it be known that things are changing. Time to stir up the pot. I'll take one 'Plan B' with an extra side of MORE TIME TO LIVE MY LIFE OUTSIDE WORK please... Just saying. Nuff said.

So... more to come it seems from that last paragraph. No worries. I'll update all as inspiration hits me.

So, running-interruptus, hit me this morning, because of my late awakening, which really isn't 'late' by the way. What I do enjoy from this prodigious event is that my body is reacting to extra stress put on my body by having more body- unconscious time- hence the sleep. I love that my body knows what to do when it is under unnecessary attack! Smart body.

Running is one of the things I most enjoy when under stress attack, but it feels so relaxing to be in my body right now- the kind of relaxing that happens after a run honestly. Anyway, I figure sleeping is akin to running- this weekend anyway. The weather is sweet as, so I'm thinking I'm missing one of the last great weekends of warmth. Whatever.

Nonetheless, it's been a fantastic weekend full of adventures with friends. The Gargoyles, we have this tradition we started right here in our very own village: Thursday night pau hana is Fish Night at ByBalikci, or chicken wings at the other place. It's the one night that it's okay to be overly dramatic when describing the work-week, I figure.

Friday night we ate fish (as Thursday was chicken wing night) and continued on with adult beverages at da kine's place. We managed to find a new series to become attached to as well: WestWorld. Man, you gotta keep up with that one... No straying off on abstract concepts in your mind, because it will be working overtime to keep up with WestWorld's straying concepts! Refreshing, yes. It's like television that doesn't make you feel guilty because you're just sloughing off watching mindless tv serials. So that kind of television makes you feel good that you're watching, right. Hard to believe I'm saying this since television was so horrible to watch up until 15 years ago.  I came into these series things late though as I had the jungle that I lived in to keep me entertained during all hours back in the Islands.  Now, THAT is a worthy scene to become absorbed in! Anyway, this tv serial thing, that will never finish because there are far too many serials to keep up with, is addictive. It's almost annoying. I wonder if I will ever be able to stop myself from this... Prolly when I return back to a jungle. That's right folks, I will return to jungle living- a different jungle, but nonetheless, jungle life is my homeostasis.

That long-winded paragraph was, I think, trying to convince you all that you should indeed check out WestWorld. Yesterday, we circum-ambulated Beyoğlu. We headed to TomTom Kaptan Street, Istanbul's newest 'trendy' district, to see and be seen in the glorious sunshine that saturated the day. The "Tasarım Tomtom Sokakta" (Design in Tomtom Street), event was in its 4th day. The neighborhood used to be home to  the city's Levantine society, in  the late 18th century. It takes its name, the cami (mosque) as well, from an Ottoman seafarer, Tomtom Mehmet Kaptan ("Captain" in English). Admittedly, it was a 'tony' affair; nonetheless, a good time was had by all.

We made our way down to the tram and hopped on; then we hopped off at Kapalıçarşı, en route to The Grand Bazaar. I had a mission-2 actually. One to meet up with Selin, who was in town, and the other to hit up Irfan in his jewelry shop at the Bazaar. He's my 'go-to' guy for both jewels and jewel repair. Only jewel repair was on my mind, a direct link to what is in my pocket these daze (lint), so it was a quick and dirty trip. It's always a maze upon entering the Bazaar, yesterday being no different. We kept asking for directions to 'Irfan' and subsequently being told that there are 'many Irfans'! Haha. We always manage to find our way though, so this is good. I do love experiencing that ancient metropolis. 

Last, we headed down the back alleys to Eminönü to bargain with some coffee sellers, etc. Somehow at some point in the push-and-shove behavior of this area- always plugged up with locals coming/going about doing their shopping at the weekend, we became enmeshed in a nearly freak-out stampede situation. It just happened out of nowhere; some of the main artery walkways were clogged up with people standing, haggling, etc. Everything suddenly slowed down and we all became pressed against each other. I instinctively hold my purse next to my body tight and kept feeling it hitting my butt- hard, like a pinch.  I then realized that some dude was grabbing my ass.  I see the asshole and then something came out of me that was buried deep inside, and in the matter of a few seconds in passing, I looked at him, he at me, and I shouted at the top of my lungs- above the cacophony -, "FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING FUCK". He quickly averted his wide-eyes away. It was all a mere moment. No one knew what was going on. Some hijabi ladies, coming from the opposite direction towards us, heard me and their eyes were wide open. We were all pressed against each other. I remember da kine asking me what happened, and I shouted back at her that the dude was grabbing my ass- hard. The ladies heard, and I knew they understood English. It was just so weird to see the woman's face, contorted, looking at my (I'm sure) contorted face. A moment in time that I won't soon forget. I looked at her and thought, you know what I'm talking about. I know you get it. 

Anyway, it was a moment of power I somehow felt. It felt so good to go off on that dude. He didn't care. Nothing happened to him, except that someone called him on his shit. It didn't matter though. It was so crowded. He knew it though. I locked eyes with him and then blew up at him. Yep, felt good. Da kine asked why I didn't slap him.  I thought about it, but didn't have an answer. I've never had to do that. 

Happy with the momentum with the day, we decided to head back to Beyoğlu. Back on the metro and off at Şişhane. A short walk later and we arrived at our favorite watering hole in the city, Corner Irish Pub. Icing on the day's cake. Beer and burgers; the American dream right here in Istanbul. Love that place. We can't figure out, though, if the handsome, nice guy that always greets us is the owner or the manager. No matter, I'll keep on coming back for more :)

Satiated, we hopped back on the magic metro that carried us back to Darüşşafaka and jumped on a dolmus back to Büyükdere. Voila! A night cap at da kine's and we decide it's a good idea to re-watch S1E1 of WestWorld... just in case we missed something from the previous night.

Dream City

Darkness envelops. Rain prying open the emerging daylight- still refusing to come out.  Not long now though.  The early morning call to prayer surely will determine. Da kine.

Laying on my bed still half asleep, raindrops falling thrills me.  The glorious cacophony (that word is for you Stephen) silences all my other thoughts.  In the distance, though, I hear the kitties running around downstairs- engaged in their dramatic calisthenics, which includes flying off the staircase.

...and BINGO. Loudspeakers go off. I rarely hear the call to prayer in this 'hood. I'm distracted by the sudden thought that this is normal and so I sleep right through it every morning.  What I don't sleep through, though, are the church bells ringing every Sunday morning at 9:30 & 10:30 am... Call to prayer; normal.  Church bells; abnormal :)

Just something I noticed.  That is all.

On another topic, I feel totally normal in my new habitat.  Istanbul is no longer that mysterious lover that I can't quit. That lover that I need to continuously overdose on because I need the fix so badly. 

Istanbul is my constant companion who divulges stories freely now. Secrets for stories,  evoking continuous attention.

A recent outing this week after work to Eminönü, I became acquainted with a few of the city's gems; the terzi street with lush fabrics that I am now drooling about purchasing to make my first HollyCouture item of clothing I've been envisioning in my mind for quite a long time.  Yes, finally something is materializing from some incredible material I bought in Oman earlier this year... or last year. Can't quite remember as Oman is quite charming in the fabric store area- as well as just natural beauty overall.  Damn, that country keeps speaking to me too... but the weather... the desert heat... I'd have to be pretty motivated to move back to the Middle East think.

Also I found among the narrow alleys the Mehmet Effendi coffee line... L-Fezz took me years ago & I knew where in the general area it was, but now I know... I too will wait in that coffee line one day for some fresh beans.

Kitchen supply hot deals are to be found in Eminönü as well.  A baker's wet dream of a street.  Certainly in this city where one can find a baking rack to the tune of 70TL... Çok pahala...

Art supply stores galore! I was introduced to one in particular.  The story goes something like this.  The owners don't charge the usual astronomical Turkey taxes to customers.  I walked out with a set of basic watercolors, etc.

THAT was a fun outing. Even the part where we got lost after getting off at 2 wrong metro exits.  Who knew that you had to take Yeniköy exit & get on the Marmary line to get off at Sirkeci. No matter. Twas interesting to walk around the Istanbul University neighborhood for a bit.  We had a ball.  You know, da kine.



But before playing out that scenario, I have more to divulge; more secrets to share from stories passed on down to me by the city. Pinking shears. Yes, pinking shears are on my mental list now.  Now that I spied that fabric... This idea I envision: the skirt originally face from the Saturday Alfama flea market.  Lisbon is another great city that felt good to be in.  Felt like I could hang for a while in (a while being a 2-year time frame, more or less).

Solo_ojo & I made our way there a few years back on a real estate-seeking 'business' trip.  Think of it as r&r from Gaziantep if you wish... Anyway, I wore the shit outta that skirt, and still want to.  Problem is that, due to the design, there is pressure that comes together at this precarious seam continuously when wearing it that it tears.  It's in a very focal point of the design- the ass.  It's kinda like a long shaped diamond (on its n/s axis) where 4 seams come together.  Anyway, time to re-create it.

I knew there was a reason for buying 3 different kinds of material on that Oman trip with Sher-bear.  I've been sitting on it for a year maybe and finally the light bulb went on.  It shocked me as it went on as I was walking by a terzi (tailor shop) and

fabrık mağâzası

I see some sort of lightweight dark, fine twill. A more conservative 
dark blue/gray/green color, yet with a funky twill design twist.  It 
should contrast most interestingly with the brighter colored Islamic 
geometric print from the Omani fabrik. Perhaps a contrasting thread too-
 in a larger length stitch.  maybe that yellow fabric... Oh the ideas!  
The decisions!  The excitement of an idea morphing into a design into an
 eventual article of clothing!!!

 I'm back to sleep.

The birds have started their freaking out about the impending sunrise... Not long now. Now long now until I fall back into a deep slumber.  Upon waking I'll wonder if this was all just a dream; Dream City.

*kerplunk