all begins with L

you become an absolute moron posing as a genius seemingly entitled to divine poetic license.

a male friend, in his attempt to woo me, made a statement:

“the woman’s figure is an inexhaustible subject of discussion.”

i said, i can’t put that in better words.
in his despair, he said.
cheeky bastard.

there’s a certain ritual to ushering in the new year, or rather if you’re a less futuristic person (with a history major) you would say instead, ‘to wrap up the year’. And they are almost accurately as follows:

a) reading old letters/blog post
b) scrolling through phone numbers
c) and delete those you’d probably not need to remember about (or pursue) in the new phase of your life
d) decide whether you really should delete their numbers
e) chart how old your virtual pets are, namely your blog, your flickr acccount, your twitter account, ourchart account, hotmail account??!
f) re reading certain post and stomach a guffaw, re re re reading another post
g) that brings a trip down memory lane that turns into another lane, then goes waaay into the back lane
h) and go “omg C, look what i found!!”
i) and go bloody hell! my blog is turning three!

the flings, the affairs, the trials, the pursuits, the fantasies that partially morphed into bitter sweet realities, here we we go again.

the things i do for you Q.

You Are a Pinky

You are fiercely independent, and possibly downright weird.
A great communicator, you can get along with almost anyone.
You are kind and sympathetic. You support all your friends - and love them for who they are.

You get along well with: The Ring Finger

Stay away from: The Thumb (i love this part, lol)

if the adrenaline of having a crush has an inverse quantum relation to hunger, i’ll be one to attest to it.

when i made plans for london ten years ago, i didn’t know you would take me seriously, down to the nitty gritty details of

a) the starting from scratch (or rather from negative) bit
b) the being homeless bit
c) hopefully i don’t have to go through the ‘washing dishes in chinatown’ bit

from british american tobacco to a few digital media companies, and two starbucks outlet. the starbucks bit is quite hard to swallow. *avoid shoe flying from purist coffee friends/fans. their baristas are seemingly tripping twenty four seven.

“HELLO, HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR COFFEE? (BIG SMILE), TALL? GRANDE? (BIG SMILE) DRY? (BIG SMILE) WET? (BIG SMILE) I’M SORRY? (BIG SMILE)

creepy.

Einstein said there’re two ways to live

One is as though nothing is a miracle
The other is as though everything is a miracle.

here goes

i am putting up in central london at a friend’s place. days have been spent shooting emails and perfecting my resume, knowing that at the end of the day i’ll meet a random person in a restaurant/bar/bythestreets/outsidemydoor that’ll give me the job (that.i.want.).

but for productivity sake i have submit the self to delusional means of job hunting.

the festive season puts no one in mood to talk about work, let alone employment. so i’m taking a chill pill to embrace the led lights that lid up X’mas and the remnants of an ending year.

this city has been welcoming me well, london is a place where i find comfort in familiarity - food and old friends. this is also the place where I find people of a spectrum of different culture and nationalities binded by similar dreams and ideals. it’s good to be able to c.o.m.m.u.n.i.cate.

i’m not an expat anymore, i’m not a foreigner anymore, here everybody is. and to illustrate a simple example of a reality check:

i walked into a bar last night to gate crash a couchsurfing (network of international travelers) party, but i did not take down any number. unlike in istanbul, i’d just walk into a cafe and find the most international looking crowd (slash english speaking) and chances are that’s where the party is. so yes, without any number and a vague memory of who the host of the party is, me and a friend ended up with our small corner chatting the night away. i can’t possibly go up to each table and make an enquiry. everybody’s a foreigner, everybody speaks english.

doosh.

so there, i am glad to be here.

i’ll have to walk around tomorrow to feel for this city (again). sigh.

all i can say is that, this year has been one big trip.

:(

i don’t know if you know how i feel, but i will truly, insanely miss this city, like a lover in departure. oh no. sob.

As a few of you have been told/heard/read,

An attempt to renew my visa at the Greek border has resulted in an exact opposite outcome. It turned out that I have overstayed a single entry visa. Completely unaware of it being a ’single entry’ thus that has made me illegal since my student residence permit expired in October.

I will need to leave the country asap and will not be able to come back for at least three months. On top of that I will have to pay a fine for each day overstayed. I’m quite lucky to not be deported immediately to a Greek island, it would have been a sexy (mis)adventure but begging the custom officer and telling him that my whole life’s possession is in Istanbul was a wiser move.

The bright side is that I have a working visa for London and would not have to go back to the far east. The decision made is to fly back to London next week and utilize the work visa for a slightly longer term.

Definitely did not see this coming but am doing my very best to be very objective about the situation.

I’ve made Istanbul my home and it will be so whether i’m physically in it or not. Perhaps to start here from scratch is rather ambitious and in the last couple of months it has been extremely challenging if not foolishly so. With a new language to grasp, I am reduced to a five month old baby, it has improved but only to buy more groceries and impress parents to marry off their sons to me.

The stint I have with the agency has never been a stable affair, especially so since i lost all my clients to the global crisis. Perhaps London would be a more practical option despite the economic crisis. If anything would have to work in contradiction, I’ll be one to embrace it. Perhaps why i am not half as emotional as i was when i left the city the first time around. i have found a home that i cannot live in for now, like everything else in Istanbul and of Istanbul, life as it is, is an oxymoron.

The amount of money I have earned this year and spent it almost all at one shot (by default) could fund a couple of weddings, in a few Turkish village.

A fortune reader once told me that I have a knack for earning alot of money quick, and also spent it all in a jiffy. I have to break this curse, for the second half of the equation that is.

i heart meat.

the cold heart will burst
if mistrusted first
and a calm heart will break
when given a shake

of random ideas:

1. a fridge that doubles up as an earth quake shield box
2. a company of professional muse(s)
3. consultants to men who have a lot of money on how to spend it for fun

am having a preview of what life is like being a wife to a marble tycoon. no i cannot get used to this. it’s too. erm.

comfortable.

For the coming Bayram holiday (also known as Raya Haji in Sg): first to Izmir, what is known to be the San Francisco (note: land of femmes) of Turkey. Then to a summer house in Cesme, a coastal town in the west. Then a boat trip to the nearest Greek island called Chios, to legalize my status in Turkey for the next three months before another visa run.

I’m feeling mamma mia.

10 days in total, god i love the national holidays here.