The Politics of Eternal Yawning

Today I finally was able to meet two friends from DC- we haven't seen them for ages, and we met at a Thai restaurant in Old Town by the Potomac riverbank- talked life, passing years and moving to New York. A few miles to the north of the river lies the infamous Watergate Hotel, home of the Watergate Scandal that resulted in Nixon's resignation-the only US president to ever resign from his post. Haldun had a birthday, which they didn't tell us until the four of us met, and they brought a mini-birthday cake because Haldun is supposed to be on a diet(Irem, I will not tell you anything about the large buffet meals they are having for lunch with Levent!) It was a late dinner with the four of us too tired to do anything but chat and relax, and tomorrow is workday so I have to go to bed early. Emrah gave me excellent ideas about getting inspired and I look forward to listening to his CDs, I am anxious about writing my experiences-honestly I do not feel I have what it takes to be a writer-people with much less experience than mine have produced masterpieces, and look at me, having added all kind of sights to my experience- from Niagara Falls to Toronto to New Orleans to New York to rural Bulgaria and urban Turkey and what not- I am still struggling to put two words together....ack....anybody knows any writers, let me know how they got started, once I start with the concept and style, the rest will be easier.
Had a lonely lunch today at la Madeleine in my 1 hour break (asked the cashier as I was buying my lunch if they had any newspapers, and since La Madeleine is "rural French cottage" style, she assumed I was French from my accent and said "Sorry, no French newspapers but we have English newspaper if you want")- lonely lonely lonely...Funny how a touristic cozy historic place can imprison its inhabitants after a while-when visiting becomes a routine, how I loved Bethesda when we visited it at nights or for dinner, and how indifferent I am now to all its inviting authenticity only because I work there- this is the same with all places I visited, they lose their magic and become routine once you make them part of your routine---so, at this rate, I am rapidly exhausting all the potentially attractive places. I remember how excited I was only three years ago with the prospect of moving abroad (New York!!!!), how small casual visits and trips made me happy, and now I wonder what it will take to excite me....

Today I can spare a few moments on meta-blogging; having had a little time to spend on my blog, I would like to make the following observation: of the four blogs I frequently read (Tracy: Batflower; Kudra:an anonymous friend through my brother; Emrah: Trains Sation and Selmin: Lonely Satellite), all four have their peculiar styles of writing. Tracy, who is one of the most creative and jolie people I have met, who has lived on the streets, and who has been struggling to merely survive by keeing her miminum wage job as a waitress/fashion designer/artist, is the one closest to my heart in an emotional way. In many ways, she is my emotional other. Whenever I talk to her, whenever I read her journal, I feel elated, and I also feel deep inside that this could have been me, she is also the one I have spent the least time with, so this must be empathy. Kudra has a bashing style- she is striking, original, frank, and brilliant. I would definitely want to meet her if I were in Istanbul. Emrah's blog I find above and beyond what I can ever write or produce in an intellectual sense- he is this thinking man with an amazing memory, if I ever met a genius in my life, it is Emrah. He would have qualified for a 'precog' if he were in the movie Minority Report. Selmin's blog is the most practical, she is using her blog not to contemplate on the meaning of life but to communicate what she is doing when with whom (since she is doing her Ph.D in communication studies, this is not surprizing, one might say). As for me, I have realized I am using my blog space to think aloud (not revealing too much of who I am, but not concealing either, and certainly writing to relieve myself of my emotional burden)...I also intend to hone my writing skills for an altogether different purpose: develop my authorly skills for my upcoming project...So, the question now is, am I a blogger or not?

a busy day is finally over, I feel at ease and relaxed at my new work place (not new anymore, I guess). I have my own cubicle, and giant frog that says :kiss me:-a get well soon present from my flue days, I brought it to my work place to remind me of Kotmish as I work secluded in my cubicle, I decorated it with articles and related tips - to do lists, and steps to facilitate my researh tasks...From the window across my cubicle, I can see rooftops of restaurants and work offices, nothing special normally, but a great view when it snows or rains...
The more I discover DC - which residents describe as "taxaton without representation"(DC), the more content I feel I ventured out of Kansas City, not that the two cities are so different in culture and style, but because change is always good, as long as one knows it is not the final destination. I am ok with DC as long as I know I will move on when the moment comes.

Le fin or new beginning or the Pulp Fiction of a Gypsy Woman

The frivolity of life's frivolousness, the moment when sanity turns into its sister insanity; when vision gets blurred and perspective is shamelessly skewed, when you feel like you turned into a gregor samsa, and nothing to help you out...I have taken a long break from my silent world, contemplating, in an effort to take my fate into reign. the last month I visited Kansas City, spent the best time ever with Pavlina and Sean, my good old friends, to maximize our time together, we did not sleep the last night of our visit at Sean's house - we ordered chinese, Pavlina the ever beautiful showed photos of herself taken by a photographer in Paris (she looks like a Vogue model and the photographer actually works with Vogue models)....I keep myself busy at other times when I am not with them, doing shopping, cooking, WORKING, trying to avoid the nagging questions that pope into my mind like spam pop-ups: The question is: What am I going to do with my life, I feel the shallow vanity of a person who at the age of 28 thinks she has achieved everything she wanted: I have my degree in the area I wanted to specialize ten years ago, I found the starting job that I believed I would never find in the US (after three years of playing the desperate housewife), I enjoy the secluded security of a peaceful life, precious intellectual indulgence, material abundance, the secret joys that one needs to be happy, weekend escapes to New York, nightlife, trekking, the oustanding unique people I have met, the new things I have learned at every inch of my three year quest (no, this is not the word, it is not a quest but a thriller Movie; sometimes- and this is happening increasingly more often- I have hard time believing the moments I am actually making part of me- me, the shy girl who never ventured out of her room - are real, that "I" am real and not the girl from that movie Pulp Fiction), some are too surreal to be true....
And at the same time, I feel I have achieved nothing, and I have nothing. All alone in this vast continent with the never ending high way routes from one coast to another, in Washington DC, miles away from all people I care about, with a career prospect I never felt deeply passionate about (still dreaming of how I will become a writer one day), of the feeling that I am living at the edge because I am afraid of getting old (and sometimes I feel old!), so I am living every moment to the fullest, lest I have no regrets for not having lived when I had the change...At times, I am totaly overwhelmed by melancholy and fear, like a deep frozen nugget, and with this film noir of "what now, what is the next step" comes the inevitable bigger Question: hew gypsy woman ,wake up, find yourself, the gypsy life you have been living, is it going to last forever, is this how you are going to live, how long are you going to drift from one coast to another, the craziness of it all, the inescapable loneliness that crawls in at the end of each -this-is-it-it-couldnt-get-better-moment...when is the time to call it quits, and go home???? American Beauty...Pulp Fiction...U-Turn, which one will it be?
Flash flash flash: Levent has launched his own blog and seeks no publicity, so I am doing him a favor by adding him to my blog list, I am quite sure I will have no visitors:)