Whether or not the weather knows what to do, I know not.

What we've got here y'all is a spring-time weather tennis match. Back and forth; left, right, left, right...pause... left, right. All last week- dreary weather: clouds, rain, wind, cold-er. You know, much colder than it was a week before, etc. My Istanbul Igloo (the downstairs portion of my apartment) has been serving as a very adequate temperature gauge. I've kinda got this jerry-rigged window-screen thingy going on- for the kitties, of course. I do occasionally fret that the kitties need to be confined to their indoor prison cell (happy to announce, though, that they will be indoor-outdoor kitties at their next stop on this wild ride).

So, during their incarceration, much of their time is occupied by (sleeping, grooming, crashing into things during their MMA UFC cosplay...) bird observations... As I come and go all the time, I keep the large windows open, so have to reinforce it. The kitts are quite spirited indeed. They enjoy leaping onto the screen, seeing how far they can jump... Being on the top floor of the building, well it seemed necessary to take some precautions for my super tall cathedral-window... The result- great; no way the kitties can escape.

The result of that result, though: I cannot shut the windows. We're having a, IMHO, super long winter here in Istanbul...snow, rain, bitter cold currents blowing in from the Bosporus. "The South Pole" has only been used for cooking, as well as a staging area before going out (which winter jacket to don, which winter hat, which boots, etc. No, not that last one- Uggs always wins out. Yes they are ugly, and YES Uggs are the greatest innovation in winter-weather garb- politics; not having to wear socks!).

...but I digress...As well, the kitties benefit from all that cold-weather, rarefied air. They are happy to jump atop the wall heater, which is oddly placed right next to the cathedral window   *structural ineptitude; not logical placement in terms of receiving maximum benefits*  From the heater they listen to and watch the birdsong and humansong of winter in my Büyükdere neighborhood.

Hmm, I think I've digressed so far at this point that I forgot my original written intent/content- same thing...

Onward to Plan B; it is Sunday morning. To be more specific, a low-cloud, cloudy morning, just as predicted by the local weather guru- my iPhone Weather App. Oh yes, right. I remember now. My neck starts to get used to this ping-pong of temperamental weather tantrum-throwing. Like an enthusiastic audience, eagerly anticipating which side will get the next point- spring emergence, or winter-not willing to turn into a memory just yet...

I do not wish to wear my Uggs any longer this year. Hey, speaking of- has anyone ever put their Uggs in the washing machine? I think it is a good idea, so you can 'fluff' them back up and clean them. At least with me, I wear them in the rain too. Okay, holla if can. If no can, no can.

There is some loser out on the street whose car has been idling for about 20 minutes... Sometimes humanity is SUCH a disappointment. Yea, likely a 1st world problem... Speaking of Istanbul, their 'referendum vote' is coming up next month. Thank goodness I can get one more paycheck in before the vote- when their currency remains 'kinda-stable' (I use that word VERY loosely these days), and the exchange rate won't totally just suck AS MUCH as it has in the very recent past...

I don't think Turkey partakes in the scientific tradition known as Groundhog Day to predict when springtime hits the main stage. Inquiring minds wanna know. 

Another cup of coffee or a morning run? Morning run.

mood: zen; mood enhancement: (da kine) Traditional Avant-Garde electronic jazz

Sami Bey taking refuge in LoGra's unfinished #pussyhatproject pussycap...

So grateful for Some FM (https://somafm.com/bagel/songhistory.html) and their 'Sonic Universe' channel because the playlist now is exactly where I'm at.

Scene: Sunday morning 10:30 AM Istanbul time, lying on my bed with the kitties,  coffee and all kine da kine. Which, currently includes a set of knitting needles. Yes, I'm deep into my newest recreational aid :) You got that right, I'm pumping out #pussyhatproject (https://www.pussyhatproject.com/) hats- knitting hats for the upcoming 'Women's March on Washington' (https://www.womensmarch.com/); the day after the inauguration of the president elect *long, heavy sigh*. 

I'm a proper pussy and in so (I'm) doing my part for all pussies, and non-pussies universally out fighting the good fight. So far, I've knitted 5 pussy hats:
1.  proto-type PrincessHogra PussyCap
2.  LoGra PussyCap
3.  Viagra PussyCap
4.  Steve-O PussyCap
5.  EdVice PussyCap
6. coming soon to another people-protector of-pussy-rights electing to enjoy their right to freedom of speech and protest through peaceful, symbolic means. 

My goal is to make a shit-ton of #pussyhatproject pussycaps to wear here in Turkey (I'll actually be in Naples, Italy so will represent my right to be a purrfect pussy over there). 

Sami Bey and I taking my proto-type pussy hat out for it's first ride atop my head :)

More pussy pics to come... 

Fun find of the week: snippet of information concerning correct usage of 'lying' vs 'laying' (https://getpocket.com/a/read/1547718816). To add, I found the link SO easily because I have been using 'Pocket' for about 3 years now (it makes it easy to find all things you save from internet. (https://getpocket.com/a/queue/).

That's about all the plugs I can muster...

Where else am I at on this snowy, Sunday morning in Büyükdere? Enjoying the moving picture show, from my bed, of my neighborhood (quiet as it is, for the most part). Not too many tracks in the snow where I'm at, off the main drag a few blocks and uphill. Cars have been stationary for 2-3 days so have been accumulating photo-worthy snow-packs atop. Flakes of snow gently drift, capturing Sami Bey's immediate attention. What is he thinking about, I wonder. His sister, Shaika Spot (snoozing close by), and him have been receiving some acupressure pets this morning. Eagerly welcoming the pets, they purr; the sounds of jazz lulling them into their happy places, plays on. On that note, I hope all the street pussy cats are taking shelter.

Another gem for the week that can get filed under 'recreational aids' is this: Finding Emerald City to watch (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3579018/      https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emerald_City). Check out the trailer. In brief, it's a modern adaptation of the series of books that The Wizard of Oz resulted from. Yes, way back then... Vincent D'Onofrio is in it, and the guy that did 'The Cell' is directing. The setting and costumes are super interesting. This guy, Frank Baum, originally wrote the series, back in 1900 or so:  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/L._Frank_Baum.

I had no idea about the book series and now thinking I should devote some time to that *adds this task to the never-ending 'wish list' of things I want to do*. Anyway, from the first two episodes, it looks like a marvelous journey. Yes, I'm totally stoked with this find, so thank you EdVice for doing all that you do with computer shit to get this stuff.

Yesterday... now yesterday was #snowpocalypse  here in Istanbul, or so it seemed. Because we had a meeting our HQ of the local chapter of 'Knitters Who Have a Drinking Problem' awareness group (I just made that up, most of it anyway), we had to go out into the great white mist to procure our meeting party favors... Of course a trip to the local yarn store was first on the agenda. While waiting for SarahMhLady to get up and out the door, EdVice and myself found ourselves wandering around Sariyer after a brief dolmus journey from our hood. With only 3 km. to cover, and on the sahil yolu (flat, coastal road), we couldn't get in much trouble in a moving vehicle...

So we got dumped off soon enough and started working our way through EdVice's 'to-do' list. I always enjoy this as it entails traipsing around the various side streets going into nearly every store for one, specific thing.  I don't operate in this fashion, so it is always fun to see how this unfolds; the greetings, the looking on shelves, the light talk, the business interactions, and just overall jovial encounters. It's these slices of life that endear me to Istanbul- always.

Basri, my new favorite knitting/yarn supply shopkeeper, greeted us warmly- as usual. 'Usual' meaning it's like the 4th time in 2 weeks I've been in there... Dude knows his yarn. Kind, gracious and enthusiastic about our newly and increasingly growing addictions, he always produces a smile for us. SaraMhLady originally talked up this shop, as opposed to the many others in Sariyer. Somehow I ended up with 2 more skeins (balls of yarn) and a pair of 7mm needles for my 'new' project *wonders when that will happen*. I had originally only wanted to accompany EdVice into the 'hood for a reason to go romping around in the snow, as I had been sick for a few days previously and was itching to get out into the elements. I mean, it doesn't snow in Istanbul that often, AND this is going to be my last winter season living in Istanbul.

Nostalgia for Istanbul already setting in, and I haven't even left yet. It's always interesting how one goes about leaving a place. Uplifting in a bittersweet sense, I think!

Our business finished, we trotted off towards HQ for the day. Steve-O greeted wearing a sweet Moroccan winter Gandoura (jalabiya).  De-clothing in wintertime is time-consuming I have found out. It's a process to take off all outerlayers and find appropriate places to let them be while visiting. A mound of clothing results. Everybody claimed their couch space, and got to it. All manners of conversations, libations, culinary indulgences, and tele-viewing resulted throughout the day. Highlights included another awesome bottle of Romanian red wine that I managed to fit in my suitcase from Romania, and Shepherd's Pie (made by Steve-O). Knitting fools that we are, we were fully entertained- even the knitting support group!

Shit, it's noon already. Time to bounce *chortle*

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.

Sunday Summer Express Sunday

Istanbul, through a jet-lagged perspective...

the city awakens

ready and waiting

Büyükdere has sleepy eyes

this canine caught my attention

interesting that out of all the benches along with Bosporus, Dog picks the one fully covered with seagull droppings!

Dogg being a dog

Dogg wanting a pat on the cranium 

Sunday Summer Express Sunday…

Back at this end of the planet (41.0082° N, 28.9784° E), I’m easing back into my Istanbul groove.  Transitioning (jet-lag) always is enjoyable in its ‘feeling strange in your body rhythm’ kinda way.  You embrace it because you want to, or you fight it because you want to. Either way, you experience both sensations, sometimes in unison. Mind-bending.

Today is Sunday Summer Express Sunday… Yes, it is still quite warm- Google says it’s 90ºF yet as I took my body out for a run this morning I figured it to be mid 80’s- but there is just something in the air that whispers autumn. I can feel it coming in the air at night, hold on… Yea, I know, Phil Collins cheesy…

The Sunday Summer Express Sunday train to autumn wheels a churnin, the wheels are turning, ready to travel and wax poetic through life here in the ‘bul for another year. Another good ride I figure. They’re all good rides, quite honestly.

Speaking of rides, I had a recent soft-thriller; a whirlwind journey to Cluj Napoca, Romania. Our intentions were purely fluid- to pick up spirits to journey back to Istanbul with, and whatever else happens… Cluj is the ‘gateway to Transilvania (it seems to be spelt like this everywhere, thereby forcing me to believe this is its correct spelling). It was a short and sweet journey through Central/East Europe while delving more into their history, both recent and past. 

I was unaware of the Hungarian factor present, although it makes perfect sense what with the porous borders throughout Europe with many dualities at its intersections. What is a border after all except an artifice with much more gray than black or white. With borders come culture clashes, absorption, etc. Its people are diverse and beautiful and kind- like all places I’ve visited on this planet really.

When I travel I like to see the similarity yet diverse nature of all places. I know, it sounds a bit ridiculous as you read through that one again and again… More justly, I like to reason why I can’t sum things up by using categories- much as we all try so as to relate an experience that all can collectively (perhaps) agree upon. There is a temporary quality where one meets people in situations where you will never be in that spot again with this same person, but realize your meeting was something monumental and insignificant at the same time. You might never communicate with these new friends again in terms of physical location, but you still grow as individuals whose lives you can, however remotely, keep track of. This is something about social media in which I endorse wildly.

When I travel time is more temporary, I could say if I had to perhaps fit a category to describe this feeling! Anyway, I met an interesting and diverse crew of new characters in my book of life. Some of the moments played out as cartoon characters in a modern adaptation of a Who Done It (there was much Pink Panther watching on TV- how many Romanians describe learning English). The ‘Who Done It’ involves EdVice and myself along with two Lithuanian Lads who save the day, or night as it was- late night. 

There was this bar across the way that we fancied during our stay. A moody bar just in my style of existence; nothing flashy or pretentious this bar, just your convenient neighborhood bar in an interesting section of the city just off of the city center. The theme was music and retro. Johnny Cash rules as a heavyweight in this here watering hole.  Yes! That’s it, it’s a friendly neighborhood watering hole (forgot name- must look up…).I think it was La Tevi?  If not, that was the bar next door...

Walking back late to the hostel (Retro Hostel) one evening, we came upon the bar, doors open and inviting. We see the Lads and sit with them for a nightcap. Reveling in good cheer and good company, I get more comfy and take my purse off and set it on the back of my chair- with a semi-watchful eye…

EdVice was up at the bar earlier and this drunk dude ran into him. He was wasted so 'whatever'- is likely what EdVice thought as this occurred. Flash forward to our shenanigans at the table and out of nowhere (I didn’t even see) said dude comes tumbling back by our table- perhaps en route to the bathroom, as that is all that is back there and there is no backtracking here so one must exit the same way they entered… Both Lads see that dude has grabbed my purse and is stumbling back towards the back room.  They jump up and exclaim what’s going down and they are gone- BAM. Before I know it, we are all in the back room, the Lads already have my purse back and the dude is being given “the talk” by the bartender & bar patrons.  We are back in our seats story-telling already the events- as if to realize it will be re-told countless times around the fire instilling a sense of oral history charm back into our species.

I kind of wake up out of my stupor (remember, I’m only tipsy but we did have a long day of walking and par-taking in adult beverages) upon hearing the Lads discuss that the dude still hasn’t left the back room- my purse snatcher is still in the building! Suddenly I’ve acquired this sense of urgency to go back there and read him my riot act… I declare my intentions to the crew and am up. I next remember that the entire crew is back at my heels lifting me back as I’m talking rather loudly to the dude, who is so impaired that he can’t possibly know what is going on, and telling him how I’m going to destroy his life. Apparently I’m doing this in a rather animated way- as EdVice tells it. The Lads can prolly add to the story here as well. All ends well and we trot back to the hostel where we immediately begin to re-tell the story to the night watch hostel dude- a very proud Hungarian-Romanian and subsequently gave us a regional history lesson. He happened to be wearing traditional Hungarian garb as well.

Oh yea, there was also this mercenary dude who came to my rescue.  I guess he saw all the hullabaloo that was going down and wanted in on the action too.  I remember the bartender(s) telling me to calm down. I guess I looked really imposing!  Anyway, it was all-okay in the end.  We had a grand day of trekking around Cluj’s streets looking for the seediest and the finest supermarkets while taking breaks and finding watering holes along the way.  We met countless do-gooders who helped us out, and have a great story to re-tell and refine… ahem.

So, that explains the cartoon-character part of the story.  I felt like we were in this Boris and Natasha kinda scene where the villain was this goofy, clumsy, loveable character… Also, whenever a mercenary shows up in a story, you know it is kinda destined to be a classic.

There is also this new steampunk bar we checked out, Atomic Cafe. Actually this is kinda an anthem of Romania, perhaps.  We found another, really cook, steampunk coffee shop while coming back from the cemetery- a very cool cemetery by the way.

All in all, many interesting places to check out. I would go back to drive through the Carpathian Mountains and camp out along the way.  And the castles… I would like to check more out- especially in the Transilvanian Alps.  Also, there was this haunted park that I wanted to check out in Cluj, but we didn’t have time to do so J

Okay, I’m tiring of this story now.  It’s time to retire to my place and watch a few episodes of Narcos Season 2… Shame to leave this beautiful day to go inside, but in celebration of actually being able to carry a spring-loaded curtain rod all the way from Hawaii to Istanbul on all my flights without being thrown off for carrying a possible WMD, I decided to hang up my red and orange silk curtains that travel to every country I’ve lived in so far on this journey. 

It’s so pretty, the way the sunlight filters through my large window and casts this sublime tequila-sunrise hue across my walls. Even in the brightest of daylight, when the curtains are closed it is dark, cool and one thinks about mai-tais being a part of the color wheel. Yea, I’ve earned this day; I already ran this morning and did a little people-watching too.

peace

first thirst station stop

A fine time at Cafe Bulgakov which, incidentally, I happen to be reading one of his books- The Master and Margarita. Coincidence? I think not...

wandering around the hood

hood graffiti

cats rule

a quiet cemetery filled with mystery and intrigue on an overcast morning

I wonder

another gem

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
Peace

in the zone living the life...

Istanbul comfort zone (home)

curiosity and the cat

Another epic weekend accomplished!

As I've been saying, spring fever is in full blossom, along with all my houseplants! I've got the coolest flower-shop guy right down the street from me.  He is always smiling and I absolutely LOVE walking by the shop. Flowers are everywhere, and their price points are great and he gives me red roses!

I walk by every day and some days my knees just go weak as I soak up all the amazement. This weekend was a weak-knee weekend indeed! The girls came up from Cihangir to hang with me since May Day (May 1st) is typically a day filled with tear-gas and radical demonstrations here in Istanbul. The metro is closed coming/going into Taksim and just all hell breaks loose. So... L-Fezz & Viagra came up to Büyükdere to chill in the village.

We did a great walk-about yesterday in my hood and nearby surroundings, ending up in Sariyer after walking through some woodsy environs. We met up with the boys at the çay meyhane and admired the Bosphorus and kitties. Afterwards we cruised through the park and admired all the May Day workers party propaganda that they had displayed out for all to peruse. We ended up in Sariyer and were walking back to my place when we decided that we needed some beers for our walk. I had brought a bottle opener on our hike- anticipating this inevitable moment in our near future! This is one thing I love about Turkey- no open container laws! So we were cruising the Bosphorus after an adventure-filled afternoon and drinking beer. People were looking, but that was about it.  Admittedly, I don't see many people (like hardly ever) cruising with beer bottles in hand.  Whatever. We're yabanci (foreigners) so we get a break, I suppose, for our faux pas...

We hoofed it all afternoon on our walkabout so I felt like we needed some interesting food, and drink, to compliment out extraordinary day. I threw the mondo artichokes I've been purchasing from "Dr. Artichoke" (I shit you not) at his little make-shift stand next to my veterinarian into my pressure cooker and then topped them off in the broiler with some smoked Gouda, Reggiano and typical Turkish cheese and served it with some homemade sauce consisting of horseradish, lemon, Worcester sauce and yogurt.

All the while we were downing some tasty gin/tonics. As a main course I continued on with my famous nachos. The girls didn't think we could chow down that effortlessly, but I knew better.  Soon enough there was nothing left! At some point Viagra decided to cruise back to Cihangir so we parted ways. L-Fezz and I, from what I recall, spent the remainder of our waking moments researching anything and everything from our iPhones... haha.

Today, after a long morning of resting up to make it out of the apartment... I returned to my favorite flower shop guy to further indulge my spring fever feelings. My apartment looks/smells/feels so good now- just how I like it. L-Fezz had been admiring my artichokes (Dr. Artichoke sells 5 for 10TL) from the night before so we decided to hoof it, along with EdVice, to Sariyer and beyond to try to buy up all of Dr. Artichoke's artichokes... I found some amber and sandalwood incense along the way, as well as a cute muffin baking thing, which I will use for ice cubes. EdVice dropped out from our walking frenzy after we hit up Vegas Pizza (OMG my life here is nearly complete now that a Vegas Pizza just opened up in Sariyer- a mere 15 minute walk from my house, AND starting next week they will deliver).

L-Fezz and I continued on our journey to artichoke heaven, yet I was a bit unsure of our route.  All I really knew is that is would be a continuous uphill climb.  The weather was complicit and we managed to find our way to Maden Mahallesi and my vet, pet store, and Dr. Artichoke.  Now, this is the 3rd time in 2 weeks that I've visited Dr. Artichoke so I'm nearly a regular at this point. As well, prolly considered 'weird' in Dr. Artichoke's eyes since most people (Turks) don't buy the entire artichoke.  I usually just see artichoke hearts in water bags in supermarkets here.  Anyway, we both bought 5 and made our merry way downhill, back through Sariyer town center and along the Bosphorus back to my place.

L-Fezz checked her oracle (iPhone) and oracle told her the metro was still closed and only one person had died in the chaos and demonstrations- so all hell hadn't broke loose, so far. Yes, this careless attitude is quite the norm here these days with so much shit happening here all the time as of late that the absence of massive destruction is seen as a relatively 'safe' thing... Unfortunately this is not necessarily a good way to determine one's events and planning/coordination, but when in Rome... So, off she went on a dolmus to Besiktas or Kabatas or however she is getting home...

I'm up in bed with the kitties now, who are lazing in the remaining sun. They had quite the entertaining weekend with so many house guests.  They are sacked out. I'm thinking about the upcoming work week, and upcoming weekend! Life seems pretty good these daze.  I can't complain about anything, really. The economy is shit here.  The country is increasingly becoming Islamicized. It's an expensive city to live in. The Turkish Lira has devalued SO much that it's nearly a joke to try to save any money. BUT, you gotta love Istanbul.  It gets in your veins.  It infects you.  You overdose on her loveliness again and again.  You can't quit Istanbul. 

So, that's my story for today :)

Below are some pictures from last Thursday. L-Fezz and I trekked to Tophane to the Istanbul Modern Museum (Thursdays are free!) 

All in a Hollyday's realization, OR meditations on being frivolus with words

Bosphorus Basking

Saturday morning in bed with kitties and (french press) coffee. Spring fever is in full effect, yet today I have some nostalgia for cooler weather- temporary I assure you. As temporary as the overcast weather I see outside my window this morning. You know already though, I do love me some overcast mornings...

After a drunken evening, as a result from an afternoon spent drinking (malt) beer, after a mid-morning açik çay (tea) at the çay meyhane, after a cool 9 kilometer run- in a brand-spanking new pair of shoes, after a morning of teaching… I know, it’s complicated, as well as unexpected…

Yea, when EdVice suggested an afternoon beer chilling up on his lanai (deck) overlooking sweet Büyükdere’s ‘main drag’, I thought to myself, why yes. Yes indeed! I’ve never had Amsterdam beer before… Two tall 50s… I’m assuming it’s a malt beer. At some point EdVice’s words floated through my head with the faint sound of 12%…

So, as the story goes, I get back to my apartment, around the corner, about 5:30 pm and, according to the dirty dishes in the kitchen, made some pasta! Happy to discover this evidence of being smart enough to realize that I should eat food, rather than attack the 5 chocolate bars I brought back from Sicily (meant as presents for peeps and here’s to hoping that that stays the case).

The kitties seemed extra rambunctious too.  They seemed extra agitated that I wasn't, or couldn't, play with them. There are some hidden mysteries still, in terms of my chain of events. Here’s some more clues I have remembered.

The big news on Friday was, of course that Prince, his Purple Majesty, passed away on Thursday back at his Minnesota residence.  Many big names have been passing in 2016 and most have had an impact on my life, in terms of songs bringing me right back in time to moments. 

There’s something about Prince, his persona and his music, that really got me- even more so than Bowie- still a fresh wound for all us mortals who still dwell in this realm of existence, or dream-time, of alternate reality; whatever your persuasion or perversion, etc.

I see that I made a short vid paying homage to Prince while grooving to ‘Cream.’ It makes me think back to times on Maui living and growing. Dancing was such a HUGE part of my life. We worked hard to dance in the jungle, on the beach, under a full moon, etc. Preparations and carrying equipment down to The Cave backside Maui, out to Pauwela Lighthouse, into a dilapidated cannery in a cane-field, etc.

Dancing to mourn seems so natural for me I can even say. Anyway, it was just a sweet way to honor all that I loved about how this music FELT in my lifetime; The feelings of songs growing and evolving along with me throughout life. Yes, a nice feeling of aliveness. Hard to express while tapping on a keyboard, but I’m definitely in that groove as I type.

BTW, the rendition of “While my Guitar Gently Weeps” for a George Harrison tribute by Prince, Tom Petty, Steve Winwood, etc. that’s going around… dreamy. I spent the remainder of my waking hours experiencing Prince, and Chaka Khan, and Lenny Kravitz, etc. Man, good times. I guess it was my way of expressing A Dove’s Cry and realizing that we can be affected by so many things in our lifetimes.

A hui hou a hiki i ka la a`ae Prince…



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6SFNW5F8K9Y


So yesterday was a full day, and I’m pretty happy about that because this morning… well, it’s a bit slow. I recall having a fairly sleepless, or restless, sleep. Ah, another clue just came to me: the electricity was out, as it keeps going out now for the past hour or so.  We’ll see what happens with that as the day unfolds.

Rolling along, I’m not sure exactly why I woke up at 7:45 am… Perhaps the kitties were in cahoots together; such tricksters they can be when they rally together. I suppose I was meant to write this blog.  I know I had pretty much decided that I won’t be going on a run this morning. BUT, in hindsight, that could change. 

Yesterday’s run was pure groove.  I was wearing a new pair of running shoes, so was surprised I ran 9 kilometers- to Tarabya Iskele and back. After months of researching running shoes, I decided on a pair of Pearl Izumi EM Road M3s. I think you all know the story if you read this, past, blog entry concerning the level of research that I put into this endeavor.

After a quick adjustment halfway through my run (the forefoot was a little too tight, so I loosened it), my feet felt much better- especially the right foot, where there is this, small, bunion that has developed- and bugs me to no end… I hate the idea that I had never developed a ‘bunion’ in my life, due to living in slippers year-round, but as soon as I started moving to environments that include for winters, hence wearing boots/snow boots/rain boots for months, I develop this shit… Unbelievable for me- especially as a yogi.  I am a bit freaked at the idea that my big toe is trying to move closer to my other toes because of some ‘bunion’ I got because I don’t know the routine for choosing comfortable, warm winter shoes… Pfft. I mean, in yoga the big toe IS stability.

living the high life :)

 So, I am working to correct this- in a weird way possible, that is not backed by hard science, but Holly Science… I believe! There are these things called ‘Yoga Toes’ (refer to picture) that I purchased many years ago.  It took me a few years to actually start using them, but not for yoga.  I really got into doing my own pedicures years back. Truth be known, I’ve never actually HAD a professional pedicure, or manicure for that matter. But, I like doing detail-oriented things (must come from the archaeology career) and thought that my Yoga Toes are the perfect toe separators for when painting toes!  I have seen the typical ones that spas use, or you can buy in a store, but they look so flimsy.  I realized I already had THE supreme pair to use. 

As you can see, they really spread your toes well.  After I noticed that I had developed a ‘bunion’, I started to use them semi-regularly. Meaning that when I thought of it, I would put them on- which isn’t exactly steady but I’m working on being conscious of it.

I realize that most of today’s blog entry can be filed under ‘stuff no one really needs to know about or will find particularly interesting’, but that is the glory of having your own blog- it just doesn’t matter.  I just like to write and when things come to my mind, side-tracking me, I just have learned to go with it and see where it takes me. And that’s about it- that’s the secret to my blog; I generally have an idea of sorts in mind when I decide to write an entry, but from there where it takes me, I can’t pinpoint.  I just go with it. 

 Sometimes when I actually re-read entries I wonder what you all must be thinking. That wondrous moment is brief I will divulge…I especially take notice of the grammar though- and feel I want to edit. Sometimes I do.  Others I figure just keep because it was expressing my mood at the time- which obviously wasn’t feeling overly concerned about editing. It makes me smile. Smile that I can be so grammatically frivolous and not care about the consequences. Heh heh.

For example, today’s entry was supposed to be about my sojourn to Sicily for spring break.

peace

A little dab'll do ya...

 Sami Bey and Shaika Spot, faithful companions and avid travelers... My Middle East Beasts turned-to Turkish Kediler :)

As of late, I've reached into my Tiger Balm stashes, among others. It seems that the combination of yoga, running and African dance is turning my body into one big network of nerves. It actually feels a bit like growing pains.  Maybe it's just because there are so many different muscle groups being activated at various different times that no one group can find the time to relax as they're either in the spot light or guiding the other group on in some helpful way.  I just don't remember this in my previous life where I did all this, and more... lol

Fast forward to today, Easter Sunday for Christians, 9:30 am and ACTION.  It seemed like a rude interruption from my brief slumber. Brief, yes. I ended up on the party bus at 1am back to Büyükdere coming from Taksim.  Uneventful enough, but it did take some time.  Eye-spied, I think, my mysterious next-door-neighbor hopping on the bus in shi-shi-la-la Bebek (ritzy hood here in Ist where the see-and-be-seen like to dwell about and... well, see-and-be-seen).  Just adding more information to the mystery that is him, if it was him.  He is a sport coach, I think, for a campus sports team at work that shall remain unnamed to protect the innocent (me)... Anyway, American guy, I've heard.  I only know of his voice- through the walls talking on Skype... I can only assume that he wears cement blocks for shoes because that is what I hear when he is just walking up the stairs in his apartment up to his loft; I hear concrete block earth-moving tremors... So does Da Jel, who lives downstairs from this American WMD... lol. One day I'm going to run into him and we'll end up shooting the shit. I'll introduce my self as , "the purple note gal"- yes he did get a purple note slipped underneath his door once many fortnights ago... 

Coming out of the metro station, a very sparsely populated Taksim Square yesterday evening, due to the suicide bombing last weekend here...

Onward. So the reason I was on the party bus at 1am was because 4-gra had a wee/wii extravaganza at Da Kine's residence. Admittedly, the 100-pin bowling was good fun. I have birthed the 'slow mo/slow bowl form, to rave reviews from the tribe.  Slow and steady wins the race, although I didn't win.

Da Jel in an action shot

Onward. early on in the evening we all commented how we had just received the latest US embassy notice (warning) about a possible ISIL threat to places of worship today- especially churches, synagogues and diplomatic missions... Have I mentioned that I live above an Orthodox church, in an old schoolhouse?  Beautiful stone building that it is, it will become my self-exiled prison of sorts today.

Yea, it's a good day to just lay low I suppose. After running. And yoga. And a Brownie Walkabout with The Büyükdere Club Kids, our intrepid trio consisting of Ed Vice, Steve-O and myself. On our last Brownie Walkabout we ventured into an old Armenian Church further down in the hood, before trotting on to Yeniköy to down a few Teddy Beers.  Good fun.

The Büyükdere Club Kids

INTERRUPTION:  Ahhh the first sip of freshly brewed french press coffee... 

Yet I digress yet again... we all decided that 'it' (the embassy email) must concern the sites of religious worship and missions on Istiklal Caddesi (Istiklal street) mainly, as that was the site of last weekend's suicide bombing here in the latest antics (from a lame group of thugs). At any rate, I won't be cutting through the church grounds today en route to my (running) route.  WOW, at this very moment the church bells are ringing, and all the neighborhood canines are yowling... I've always been so curious on what goes on with an orthodox mass... Today is not the day to check it out.

Back to running as it's on my mind a lot these days.  Recently I broke out my old Timex GPS Run Trainer- mostly to check out my heart rate activity during my run.  I'm not sure why it's taken so long to break it out, but I suspect it's because the numbers were always so depressing while living/running in Bahrain the past 2 years... It was so damn hot running there- no matter what time of day.  I mean, it was laboriously hot trying to run into a full-on furnace coming at you...

Besides that, I'm really concentrating on working on some specific things. Specifically, my gait, as well as mind/body movement control.  What I mean to say is that I am really concentrating on focusing on experimenting with 2 different leg styles while I run: firstly, I visualize my feet.  While one is striking the ground (mid-foot strike I am also working on- coming from a (not overly severe) heel-strike background)), the other leg is close to a 90º angle with my foot trying to hit my butt. VISUALIZING I say, so that the goal is really just to get that leg high, while still projecting forward.

Running-style-wise, my second task is to try to bring free leg as close forward and near knee-level of the leg on the ground- all within an aerodynamic forward motion, so not a 90º angle here but maybe 45º. With this movement, I'm thinking that the less time my one foot is on the ground, the easier it is to transform into a mid-foot striker.  I've come to realize that my heel-strike, even though it isn't pronounced, makes me take a longer time to recover and get that foot back off the ground, as well as gives more time for my body to sink into that foot on the ground or compress my spine.

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it"; I know, I know.  But, I'm having fun with it.  What I know is that when I'm running, I'm feeling that high, and it's so good that I don't want it to stop. So, if I want to continue this running-high into the years, I need to be logical. Prevention is the key, and I've done a pretty good job so far.

Yesterday's excursion into the world of running in Istanbul brought me to a new route, I think. I've been wanting to start training on hill sprints.  But I need a hill. Going up the Haciosman Hill I notice, while on the bus, that there is a forested area in a neighborhood just off the highway.  Bingo.  I ran up to this spot and just started walking into this village neighborhood.  There are 3 successive, steep hills to traverse, and probably more as I started to see people movement at the top of the 3rd and didn't feel like trekking further into this unfamiliar neighborhood/village. Let the people get familiar with me I think is a good plan.  After all, it doesn't look like any yabancī get up into this hood... What I mean to say is seeing a yabanci, and a yabanci runner, in this hood looks like an unfamiliar thing.  Baby steps... Happy baby steps that I found this new practice session to throw into the mix!

The hill sprints should build some more muscle, which should, in theory, propel me faster!  At this point, my Bosphorus Runs need a little kick.  I've been running up to 10k at a time now (on a great day), but I feel a bit sluggish.  I feel that I don't need to run farther, but faster.  Simply just to change it up.  The weather is getting warmer as it's now spring so why not? I have Spring Fever, and it's excellent.

An always great cross-training choice is yoga, of course. Even though I do miss the relaxed style of yoga on Maui, and Bahrain ( BaYoga ) I have found a sorta sweet spot here in Istanbul. What I typically find here, though, is that most all teachers have the same classes; the same poses, too much partner work (which, to me, means too much down time and time spent in the hands of someone who is going to possibly help one to injure themselves), and too much talking.

The last one is okay though as my comprehension of Turkish isn't too great so it is more like background noise.  I can just get into my poses and concentrate on my breath and turn out the talking. Not that I'm used to a disciplined class (well, except for House of Yoga and Zen in Makawao where I practiced ashtanga), but I guess I'm used to a more intuitive class where the body talks and the mind listens. Man, I need quiet time for this :)

African dance classes started up this week! Our drummer is from Guinea and teacher is Senagalese. High energy for sure.  Perhaps it is this newest addition to my regime that is making my body ache- good ache- since there is a lot of jumping and flinging of body party involved.  Nevertheless, it feels so good.  Drums beating my body into submission while rhythmically putting me into a trance state of higher awareness... Higher consciousness... Higher frequencies being adjusted to, thus allowing me to be me... THIS. This is the Da Kine medicine...

INTERRUPTION: more coffee downstairs...

The day is already sizing up to be a tall drink of water: the sun is breaking through the clouds and I can hear the horns on the Bosphorus ships. Birds are chirping, and there is an unmistakable quietness in the TomCat antics this morning.  As spring has sprung, so have the TomCats from near and far to the doorstep of the building nearly.  They hang out in a dude-gang and battle for unassuming females, all of which are in heat collectively.  An odd-sounding symphony plays nearly 24/7 here consisting of unnerving treble (females kitties getting raped) to all about the melodious bass sounds when it's feeding time for the extensive tribe by one of the neighborhood moms who so graciously and consistently bring food to the feeding trough of the sidewalks to the baritone sounds of male dominance behavior played out as 'let's see who will fall off the garage across the street while fighting). A true cacophany of feline life in the hood captured in a mid-spring fever tribute to life in Istanbul.

COUNTDOWN: less than 2 weeks to Sicily!

In summary, "a little dab'll do ya" serves me right.  Here a dab (neck). There a dab (right outer hip socket). Everywhere a dab dab (you get the picture). I dug into my (well stocked) Tigers Balm reserves in the past week to facilitate the healing powers of (analgesic balm on) sore muscles. I started to put some on my knee caps BEFORE going out on my run... I decided this not the greatest idea even though it feels awesome.  I'm on the preventative bandwagon, but is this preventative, or masking inevitable pain without solving the problem?  It's a fine line, and it's got me wondering.  So much in fact that I started researching effects of pavement running (who doesn't know the results of this tough). I guess I'm just looking for some solid research/data to counter the obvious (pounding your kneecaps and vertebra into eventual decay). I did manage to order a new pair of running shoes though, which faithful friend JonEe will send with his otherwise awesome care packages.

As any research endeavor with me, I spent so much time on this. Days, even weeks!  It came down to 3 brands: Pearl Izumi, Hoka One One and Altra.  After much (A LOT OF) deliberation, I ordered the Pearl Izumi's.  I decided to try this 'rocker' style out after assessing my needs (stability, wide toe box, and cushioning).  The Hoka One One was my wildcard as I've never worn a 'rocker' type shoe before and they seem to be extreme.  Altra had an option or two as well, but Pearl Izumi won out.  The sizing, of course, is touchy- especially in terms of not wanting to send shit back to America so really needing the size to be correct. Not having ever tried on these 3 brands before, it's a crapshoot, but I did do indepth research and read SO many comments.  I'm feeling pretty confident about my choice and excited for arrival time!  Until then though, my Saucony Kinvara 7s are doing me just fine.  These are definitely my GO TO shoes of the decade (3 years strong with this Kinvara series and happy).
 

Peace.