Meet Me

Last night. Watching Boston Legal on Martin's computer, on my bed. Very cozy. Very snuggly. It is the episode on Thanksgiving. One scene where Jerry opens his heart to Katie and tells her he loves her, that he thinks she is the prettiest and kindest and smartest... as the list keeps on going, Martin says:

"Apparently he hasn't met you."



I wish, for everyone, that one day, you will meet someone who can deliver a compliment in such scale with so little effort and sway you away.

In Martin we trust.

Billy the kid

Why do I prefer Fairy over Santa

I always liked tooth fairy better than santa. I thought santa was ugly and fat. I felt tooth fairy had poise. She was also brave enough to come all the way to your bed instead of living room where nobody stayed, like santa. I loved the idea of a magical creature getting so close to me, even maybe touching me. Nowadays I favor the bean fairy. You know the one that bloats up the beans while you are sleeping like fava beans, chickpeas, red beans... so you can cook in the morning.

Ha Erişte, Ha Spaetzle...

Bakkala çocuk yollama kavramının bir de şöyle carpıtılmış hali vardır:

Akşama yeşil mercimek çorbası yapılacaktır. Şef'in canı içine erişte koymak ister ama evde erişte ne geze. İşteyken msn üzerinden işten erken çıkacak Martin'e hemen mesaj yollanır:

"Can you get erişte from Turkish Bakkal?" 
Şimdiye kadar Martin artık bakkalın ne olduğunu bilmektedir.
"Huh? What is that?"
"Turkish Spaetzle, kind of." 
Hani çocugun aklına bir tat gelsin de, heyecanlansın diye.
"How do you prounounce it?" 
Akıllı çocuk mirim.
"Erishte. Write 'erişte' on a piece of paper, remember the 's' has a tail and give it to the guy, he'll get it for you."
"Ok."

Martin gider, 25 yaşının bütün olgunluğu ile bakkal amcaya uzatır kağıdı. Artık yüzünde 'bizim hanım yolladı, kısa saçlı olan hani' imasi mı yüklüdür yoksa bakkal amca bu tip muamelelere cok mu alışıktır bilinmez ama, hemen anlar da tutuşturuverir erişteyi eniştenin eline. Tabi ben bakkal amcaya eniştenin enişte değil, suç ortağı ldugunu, benim de hanım değil oylesine bir kız olduğumu anlatmaya calışarak vakit kaybetmemişimdir. Nitekim en yakın arkadaslarımın bile bazen anlamaktan aciz oldukları bu ilişkinin boyutlarını oturup Queens'deki bakkal amcayla tartışacak değilimdir.

Akşama leziz erişteli yesil mercimek corbasi... bi de zeytinyağlı yaprak sarma... ardından da künefe... Martin cok sever...Bekleriz...

The Want List

Since wanting is free:

.I want someone to write a song for me... preferable a love song...
.I want a man over 50's to apologize to me as in 'Alpha' song "Delaney'...
.I want mushroom...
.I want a tattoo kit...
.I want a gun, shit load of ammunition and a room full of butter flies...

Since wanting is never free, you should care for what you ask for.

ChaChaChaCHANGE...

Change, my friend, comes in disguise. IT comes in shapes and form undeclared, unpredictable. And the worst of it all, your perception of it, comes too late, when there is nothing left to do but just accept it with all the baggage it comes with... It comes to change your core, sweat you more, all cold. You freeze, you're freaked, you're stunned, you're stupified and in the end, you are finally broken... But the change has already taken its course, all there is left for you to do is pick up your pieces and keep on walking. Keep calm and carry on.

And I am not talking about the new Facebook or the new haircut gone wrong or the new actress in your favorite show. I am talking about a type of change that shakes your core: when you have let someone go, when you have to give that long lived thing up, when you have to let that habit go, none bad, but they fulfilled their time in your life span and they have to move on as much as you do. When you realize that you have to give up, you panic, you dont wanna let go, you fight, you beg. Sometimes that works, sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes, the times after change is better, you realize how good things have gotten and sometimes you think that change will never be for better. Giving up is never going to make a better thing out of you. Then you fight, like your life is at stake and when you lose, you are kind of done, undone. Ready to redo yourself.

I dont date dinosaurs

Below conversation was over heard between a girl in her late 20's and a guy in a very realistic dinosaur suit in motion in LA museum:

_"Oh my God!!! Is that real? It is real, right?" she asked her friend.
_"I am not real." dinosaur replied as he brought the nose of the dinosaur closer to her ear to make sure nobody heard him.
_"Shut up! You are real." She insisted.
_"Would you go out with me?"
_"I don’t date dinosaurs."

The Surprise is: I am that girl, only that this conversation has never taken place in real life. It was an imaginary scene, a fragment of my imagination, after seeing a video of the real life like dinosaur puppet in LA museum...

Billy the "I don't date Dinosaurs"

Der Kuss

You show each other the interesting items on the stores' window displays as if they were the most astonishing happenings that you two could witness. And then you walk more and more. Do you talk? Does it matter? You are lovers. You love. You hold the significant other closer to yourself, you occasionally skip a step to synchronize the out of sync walking pattern. And you laugh at it, heartily. You look at each other, with love. The girl puts her head against his shoulder as they walk. Even long after she realizes that the position is quite uncomfortable in walk, she keeps her head there, either to avoid a misunderstanding aroused by her quick draw of her head meant that she didn’t like him whereas she just was not comfortable. The latter being the truth, she holds on a little more to ensure that no misunderstanding would arouse. You are happy. You breathe each other. You try to touch unconventional skin parts, like the inner part of the elbow, or the lower vertebrae, or the ear lobe to claim wholesomeness in your ownership. After a while you realize that you cannot keep your hands off of each other. You excitedly run to the street and hail for a cab. Hastily enough, a cab stops. You get in, giggling. My place or your place?


billy or kid