A miserable old git and a sentimental old fool
My little brother called me in the office yesterday. I sounded as miserable as ever – I just can’t chit chat when I am working.
All he wanted to say was that he’d thought of me today, and when he thinks of me, he calls me because he loves me…I had also thought of him the same morning and what a bad older sister I’ve been neglecting him and our other brother. Why didn’t I call?…There is always something to be done first…and before I know it the most important thing, time, passes me by.
Afterwards he emailed me a song. As I type this and listen to it again, there is a lump in my throat and tears are welling in my eyes but there are also flutterbies in my heart as I truly love my brother. The song he sent says it all: what's important is not what's said openly but what's meant; not what's in the surface but what’s underneath, not what we see but what we truly understand.
My poor English translation of this song by Carlos Varela (http://www.carlosvarela.com) follows:
A word says nothing
At the same time it hides it all
Like wind hides the water
Like flowers hide the mud
A look says nothing
At the same time it says it all
Like the rain upon your face
Or an old map of some treasure
A truth says nothing
At the same time it hides all
Like a bonfire that does not extinguish
Like a stone born out of dust
If one day you lose me, I’ll be nothing
At the same time I’ll be everything
Because in your eyes are my wings
And the shore where I drown
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Some people know how to…
…make life easier for themselves. I am not one of those. Don’t get me wrong I am not unhappy. It’s just that I sometimes make life harder than it should be.
Last night, for example, having forgotten to have dinner but remembered to have two pints, I came home about midnight. Work has been so busy of late that I didn’t even have bread and cheese at home. So, I stopped at the petrol station - the only shop open that late - for a loaf – white slices of cardboard basically. Had a couple of slices with peanut butter and honey.
As I had this Michelin star worthy dinner, I exchanged some emails with one of the people I’d just been out with. She was up checking her emails and eating the dinner her husband had saved for her. When I told her I needed to go food shopping, her response was ‘you do not need shopping, just get a husband and three kids. It is working fine for me’….
You see, I can say ‘bitch!’. I don’t have a husband or three kids – though now I have food. And being 35.5, I am aware it’s becoming a bit late for husband and kids – for three of them anyway.
But I see it differently. She is one of those people who make life easy for themselves. I, on the other hand, have this obsession of doing everything myself. My only teenage dream was to have my own flat, live alone and be free. That I have – possibly at a cost of periodic loneliness. I don’t have a cleaner not because I can’t afford one but it’s a small flat and I think it should be my duty to clean it. Examples are endless but perhaps too personal and hence boring.
Anyway, I succeed at most things I attempt but I work hard and am tired. Until recently I used to think that’s what you do: you work hard to succeed. You ‘buy the flowers yourself’ as Mrs Dalloway says…But now I am thinking there must be an easier way. There must be a way of getting more people to do more things for me; a way to be a bit more selfish without a guilty conscious. But how?
I’ve read about the ‘One Life’ exhibition in London Olympia (www.onelifelive.co.uk) 3-5 March. I am going to visit it and report back. I am not after a tangible life change like a new house, city, job etc. but a more subtle one. All I want is to have enough good food at home at all times, even if there are no husband and kids….come to think of it maybe I should just try online shopping…
…make life easier for themselves. I am not one of those. Don’t get me wrong I am not unhappy. It’s just that I sometimes make life harder than it should be.
Last night, for example, having forgotten to have dinner but remembered to have two pints, I came home about midnight. Work has been so busy of late that I didn’t even have bread and cheese at home. So, I stopped at the petrol station - the only shop open that late - for a loaf – white slices of cardboard basically. Had a couple of slices with peanut butter and honey.
As I had this Michelin star worthy dinner, I exchanged some emails with one of the people I’d just been out with. She was up checking her emails and eating the dinner her husband had saved for her. When I told her I needed to go food shopping, her response was ‘you do not need shopping, just get a husband and three kids. It is working fine for me’….
You see, I can say ‘bitch!’. I don’t have a husband or three kids – though now I have food. And being 35.5, I am aware it’s becoming a bit late for husband and kids – for three of them anyway.
But I see it differently. She is one of those people who make life easy for themselves. I, on the other hand, have this obsession of doing everything myself. My only teenage dream was to have my own flat, live alone and be free. That I have – possibly at a cost of periodic loneliness. I don’t have a cleaner not because I can’t afford one but it’s a small flat and I think it should be my duty to clean it. Examples are endless but perhaps too personal and hence boring.
Anyway, I succeed at most things I attempt but I work hard and am tired. Until recently I used to think that’s what you do: you work hard to succeed. You ‘buy the flowers yourself’ as Mrs Dalloway says…But now I am thinking there must be an easier way. There must be a way of getting more people to do more things for me; a way to be a bit more selfish without a guilty conscious. But how?
I’ve read about the ‘One Life’ exhibition in London Olympia (www.onelifelive.co.uk) 3-5 March. I am going to visit it and report back. I am not after a tangible life change like a new house, city, job etc. but a more subtle one. All I want is to have enough good food at home at all times, even if there are no husband and kids….come to think of it maybe I should just try online shopping…
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
An urban moment
It's just before midnight. Woman No 1 must have got on the tube at Oxford Circus. She gets out a little black note book and starts sketching the men oppposite her. Woman No 2 (me) gets on at Tottenham Court Road (the next stop), sits next to Woman No 1, gets her notebook out and starts writing. Woman No 3 gets on at Holborn (the next stop), sits next to Woman No 2, gets her notebook out and starts writing. Sitting in the middle, Woman No 2 realises the oddity of the situation: three women looking very different but all in their 30s, sitting next to each other and furiously writing on their notebooks on a late night tube train.
Opposite two punk girls barely 20 and two Indian men in their 30s also realise the oddity of the situation and try not to smile....we are in London after all, human contact in the tube must be kept to a minimum.
At Bank (two stops after No 3 got on), No 3 nudges No2 and shows her what she's been writing. No 2 was thinking she was writing about No 1 but in fact it's about her. Having written about No 2 writing about the woman who's just sat next to her writing about her, she realised No 2 is writing about something else...about a man with a yearning look on his face. No 2 was writing about a scene she's just acted in her improvisation class. No2 is excited because she thinks she's just acted out the straight woman's Brokeback Mountain in the scene she was writing about.
It turns out No 3 was coming back from another improvisation class that night. They get talking. No 3 had watched, only weeks before, the theatre company No 2 is training with and loved them. They talk about theatre and writing for another three stops when No 3 gets off at Bethnal Green. No 1 has fallen asleep about Bank. No 2 keeps smiling all the way to Mile End (OK, only the next stop) and then home and can't sleep for ages with the excitement of that scene and the urban moment with No 3.
No 2 is happy. And who says London is a place for free but lonely people? It's hard to find people to connect with anywhere in the world - even if momentarily, even if with people you are unlikely to see ever again. At least in London you have lonely (or shall I say free?) enough people, even only few, to share those moments with.
It's just before midnight. Woman No 1 must have got on the tube at Oxford Circus. She gets out a little black note book and starts sketching the men oppposite her. Woman No 2 (me) gets on at Tottenham Court Road (the next stop), sits next to Woman No 1, gets her notebook out and starts writing. Woman No 3 gets on at Holborn (the next stop), sits next to Woman No 2, gets her notebook out and starts writing. Sitting in the middle, Woman No 2 realises the oddity of the situation: three women looking very different but all in their 30s, sitting next to each other and furiously writing on their notebooks on a late night tube train.
Opposite two punk girls barely 20 and two Indian men in their 30s also realise the oddity of the situation and try not to smile....we are in London after all, human contact in the tube must be kept to a minimum.
At Bank (two stops after No 3 got on), No 3 nudges No2 and shows her what she's been writing. No 2 was thinking she was writing about No 1 but in fact it's about her. Having written about No 2 writing about the woman who's just sat next to her writing about her, she realised No 2 is writing about something else...about a man with a yearning look on his face. No 2 was writing about a scene she's just acted in her improvisation class. No2 is excited because she thinks she's just acted out the straight woman's Brokeback Mountain in the scene she was writing about.
It turns out No 3 was coming back from another improvisation class that night. They get talking. No 3 had watched, only weeks before, the theatre company No 2 is training with and loved them. They talk about theatre and writing for another three stops when No 3 gets off at Bethnal Green. No 1 has fallen asleep about Bank. No 2 keeps smiling all the way to Mile End (OK, only the next stop) and then home and can't sleep for ages with the excitement of that scene and the urban moment with No 3.
No 2 is happy. And who says London is a place for free but lonely people? It's hard to find people to connect with anywhere in the world - even if momentarily, even if with people you are unlikely to see ever again. At least in London you have lonely (or shall I say free?) enough people, even only few, to share those moments with.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Some men are like...
...luke warm coffee....When I first came to England, you couldn't get a decent cup of coffee anywhere. The best you would have was warm filter coffee unless you were at a traditional cafe run by 2nd or 3rd generation Italians. Since the late 1990s you can get cafe latte, cafe au lait, espresso, the lot. And now you see loads of people in Central London walking to their offices in the morning with a coffee cup glued to their hands. There are even loyalty cards...if you pay an astronomical amount of money for 9 cups of coffee, you can get the 10th one free.
Unfortunately, men don't change as fast as the coffee tradition does. Some men are truly like luke warm coffee.
Imagine it. It's one of those cold mornings. Regardless of how much you had to drink the night before, you really want a strong and hot cup of coffee when you get to work. So you stop by at your local coffee shop. In my case, a traditional Italian cafe, not one of the new chains. Smiley man or woman says good morning, has a little chat with you and makes you a cup of latte (my favourite). You only realise when you get to your office that the milk s/he put in was frothed10 minutes before you walked in the shop. So it has all the cafeine you need but none of the warmth. Imagine the dissapointment. It'll stay with you all day.
That's how some men are...
That's all really :)
...luke warm coffee....When I first came to England, you couldn't get a decent cup of coffee anywhere. The best you would have was warm filter coffee unless you were at a traditional cafe run by 2nd or 3rd generation Italians. Since the late 1990s you can get cafe latte, cafe au lait, espresso, the lot. And now you see loads of people in Central London walking to their offices in the morning with a coffee cup glued to their hands. There are even loyalty cards...if you pay an astronomical amount of money for 9 cups of coffee, you can get the 10th one free.
Unfortunately, men don't change as fast as the coffee tradition does. Some men are truly like luke warm coffee.
Imagine it. It's one of those cold mornings. Regardless of how much you had to drink the night before, you really want a strong and hot cup of coffee when you get to work. So you stop by at your local coffee shop. In my case, a traditional Italian cafe, not one of the new chains. Smiley man or woman says good morning, has a little chat with you and makes you a cup of latte (my favourite). You only realise when you get to your office that the milk s/he put in was frothed10 minutes before you walked in the shop. So it has all the cafeine you need but none of the warmth. Imagine the dissapointment. It'll stay with you all day.
That's how some men are...
That's all really :)
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Some Samaritan Supplies
I know there are more important things in life to be annoyed about....all this cartoon stuff for example....but I am stuck at the new Samaritans poster. They appeared in the tube stations a few weeks ago. I see one every morning on the way down to the platform at my local station and again on my way up every evening.
It's '70s style colour graphics of rainbows, butterflies, birds and rabits and the slogan reads "if your life isn't like this, give us a call" or something like that. Whose life is like that these days? Or rather whose life has ever been like that unless they were on LSD?
I am undecided between taking it all seriously and calling them to complain that they are making me feel shit about the lack of colour and hallucination (is this how it's spelt?!) in my life and ask for help and taking the piss and calling them to ask if they could deliver the LSD to my address or if I should pick it up from theirs....
But, yes, there are more important things...I am scared of all these goings on about the cartoons. Not because of this particular incident per se but because this is another step in widening the gap between normal Muslims and the rest of the world. Cartoons were wrong: by depicting Mohammed with a bomb for a turban (that's the only one I saw), they made it look as if violence is preached by the religion itself not by some dangerous nutters. I think this was insulting to every Muslim's belief in the teachings of their religion - I don' t mean not drawing the Prophet but the peace, and doing good for others etc. all those messages that should be universal to all religions. Normal Muslims are as much (if not more) targets of extremists and the whole saga is doing more harm to normal Muslims and as we say in Turkey, buttering the bread of the extremists. What's a 'normal' Muslim?....The ones of varying frequency of daily prayer (for my sake at least 'never' included) who would not hit the streets with threatening plackarts, burn buildings and kill people. I think.
God help me...or perhaps I should call the Samaritans for that LSD...you never know.
I know there are more important things in life to be annoyed about....all this cartoon stuff for example....but I am stuck at the new Samaritans poster. They appeared in the tube stations a few weeks ago. I see one every morning on the way down to the platform at my local station and again on my way up every evening.
It's '70s style colour graphics of rainbows, butterflies, birds and rabits and the slogan reads "if your life isn't like this, give us a call" or something like that. Whose life is like that these days? Or rather whose life has ever been like that unless they were on LSD?
I am undecided between taking it all seriously and calling them to complain that they are making me feel shit about the lack of colour and hallucination (is this how it's spelt?!) in my life and ask for help and taking the piss and calling them to ask if they could deliver the LSD to my address or if I should pick it up from theirs....
But, yes, there are more important things...I am scared of all these goings on about the cartoons. Not because of this particular incident per se but because this is another step in widening the gap between normal Muslims and the rest of the world. Cartoons were wrong: by depicting Mohammed with a bomb for a turban (that's the only one I saw), they made it look as if violence is preached by the religion itself not by some dangerous nutters. I think this was insulting to every Muslim's belief in the teachings of their religion - I don' t mean not drawing the Prophet but the peace, and doing good for others etc. all those messages that should be universal to all religions. Normal Muslims are as much (if not more) targets of extremists and the whole saga is doing more harm to normal Muslims and as we say in Turkey, buttering the bread of the extremists. What's a 'normal' Muslim?....The ones of varying frequency of daily prayer (for my sake at least 'never' included) who would not hit the streets with threatening plackarts, burn buildings and kill people. I think.
God help me...or perhaps I should call the Samaritans for that LSD...you never know.
Thursday, February 02, 2006
BritBlog...what is that all about?
My application to list this blog on the Britblog.com has been rejected! They tell me that before I get annoyed I should read their conditions of submission. I read them and can't understand what the issue is. This site is not under construction, it is not commercial, neither is it pornographic nor anythingelse it shouln't be. But it's a personal site which is one of the categories that are allowed.
Maybe, they say, you don't have enough posts, post some more and try again....on other parts of the site they are very encouraging to everyone to add to their website. And who but the novice blogger will bother? Come to think of it why do I bother? Because I wanted to share my site with as many people as possible. In fact, I checked other recently listed sites and some of them have as few postings as I have...
This is all fine. And if this was all what they said, I would be sour grapes for writing about it. Then I see another reason in their rejection email: 'It may be that we could not establish if you were British or not'...Now that's interesting. Nowhere in their site it says that you have to be British. I thought to live in the UK was sufficient. Besides I do have dual nationality. To top it, to get a British passport, I had to swear allegiance to the Queen, which is more than those who are born British have to do.
You know, despite the weather, I like this country. It's been good to me and I've been good to it. But their email and reasoning pissed me off. What more does one have to do to be British? Maybe I should have said I had dual nationality in my profile....it didn't occure to me. Maybe there in lies the problem. In any case I am going to remove the link to Brit blog. They can stuff it.
Having written the above, I've checked bloglaralemi.com which is a listing site for blogs by Turks. They haven't put my listing up either. I'll give them a couple more days - things are slower over there.
But maybe (and this doesn't bare thinking about) the reason that neither the British nor the Turkish blog listing sites accept me is because after all these years of living in Britain, I am still not British and neither am I Turkish anymore....aaargh....
The good news is the site is up on the London blog listing....which confirms what I've come to suspect: London is a place for those who don't belong anywhere else anymore (or never belonged anywhere ever). Sad? No, come the morning I'll find a good angle to see all this from. Now (having been out enjoying good company and good wine) I am going to bed!
My application to list this blog on the Britblog.com has been rejected! They tell me that before I get annoyed I should read their conditions of submission. I read them and can't understand what the issue is. This site is not under construction, it is not commercial, neither is it pornographic nor anythingelse it shouln't be. But it's a personal site which is one of the categories that are allowed.
Maybe, they say, you don't have enough posts, post some more and try again....on other parts of the site they are very encouraging to everyone to add to their website. And who but the novice blogger will bother? Come to think of it why do I bother? Because I wanted to share my site with as many people as possible. In fact, I checked other recently listed sites and some of them have as few postings as I have...
This is all fine. And if this was all what they said, I would be sour grapes for writing about it. Then I see another reason in their rejection email: 'It may be that we could not establish if you were British or not'...Now that's interesting. Nowhere in their site it says that you have to be British. I thought to live in the UK was sufficient. Besides I do have dual nationality. To top it, to get a British passport, I had to swear allegiance to the Queen, which is more than those who are born British have to do.
You know, despite the weather, I like this country. It's been good to me and I've been good to it. But their email and reasoning pissed me off. What more does one have to do to be British? Maybe I should have said I had dual nationality in my profile....it didn't occure to me. Maybe there in lies the problem. In any case I am going to remove the link to Brit blog. They can stuff it.
Having written the above, I've checked bloglaralemi.com which is a listing site for blogs by Turks. They haven't put my listing up either. I'll give them a couple more days - things are slower over there.
But maybe (and this doesn't bare thinking about) the reason that neither the British nor the Turkish blog listing sites accept me is because after all these years of living in Britain, I am still not British and neither am I Turkish anymore....aaargh....
The good news is the site is up on the London blog listing....which confirms what I've come to suspect: London is a place for those who don't belong anywhere else anymore (or never belonged anywhere ever). Sad? No, come the morning I'll find a good angle to see all this from. Now (having been out enjoying good company and good wine) I am going to bed!
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