the 26 steps

step 1: figure out why my cell rings, but doesn't work. properly. like i cant receive a call. or dial out. but it keeps ringing. and i can't turn it off.
step 2: suspect the sim card.
step 2.5: take out sim card.
step 2.75: break the phone completely while reinserting the damn card.
step 3: rule out sim card problem.
step 4: dig the extra phone from who knows where (burak found it).
step 5: be thankful for accidentally setting the shortcut button to turn bluetooth on.
step 6: turn bluetooth on. the computer as well. it has to sync somehow.
step 7: isync works. all is saved. or synced. just to show burak how tech savvy i am, i tell him that i can actually go back to any given day on my computer thru my time machine. not a real time machine. though i suspect that's coming soon, too.
step 8: burak tells me i havent backed up my computer for.... ta daaa.. three whole weeks. not too shabbyi huh?
step 9: attempt backing up. cannot locate the external hard drives (ehd from now on, i know they must have a better name than that but i cannot remember for the life of me). all 3 of them. they were on my desk. yes, i'm sure.
step 10: locate the external hard drives. in the bookcase. cuz they look like books you know.
step 11: try very very hard to remember which ehd i used for backing up.
step 12: locate the cables.
step 13: not those cables.
step 14: those are the right ones but they don't work.
step 15: locate the power cable. yes! the right one on my first attempt.
step 16: bet on the black ehd. connect. power up. and burak says "that's my ehd."
thanks.
step 17: disconnect after getting distracted looking thru burak's stuff.
step 18: bet on the other black ehd.
step 19: wrong cables.
step 20: those are broken as well.
step 21: consider trashing the broken cables. then think that maybe they're not broken and they're actually wrong cables.
step 22: find the right cables. the power cord is the same, thank god. i am exhausted.
step 23: wrong one again. disconnect after get distracted looking thru songs and stuff backed up from 2008.
step 24: the silver one. that has to be it. or i am so screwed.
step 25: freaking wrong cables. i am so not kidding. the first cable that i used for the black ehd fits, of course.
step 26: connect. back up.

the extra phone rings. and i have no idea who's calling.

Darkness of the night (hey that's a song!)

Some nights seem darker than others for some reason. There must be a scientific explanation somewhere that has to do with atmospheric stuff (see, all those freaky cold nights taking astronomy 101 at Mount Holyoke would come in handy if only I could remember a word or two of it) but my interpretation lies somewhere between my own physiological condition at that specific moment and my moodiness.

The darker the night, the better my eyes see. A gloomy sky with no moon (or the new moon? I really should look this stuff up) provides ample opportunities for cat watching, boat surveillance and just marvelous stargazing. The twilight-ish glow from the moon makes everything look hazy thanks to the multitude of stitches in my left eye, and the more the humidity, the moister my eyes are without any requirements of eye drops in good days and quinine related poison/medicine in bad days.

There were days when I wondered whether I would miss the sounds of the boats in the fog (I can hear them loud and clear from this new house) or the familiarity of the street I grew up in. I do, sometimes. But I can see shooting stars here. And that is exactly what I needed to see a few minutes ago. So I could make a wish.

Moving onto the next issue: gotta get lights for the house cuz if I were to trip up on one more thing (and we have “things” on the floors of our new place – toys, crayons, books, very dangerous cars, clothes, I am looking around right now and see scissors for gods sake! just like we did in our last place, and the one before that, because I hate picking after myself, or the children, or anyone else for that matter, and the children seem not have fallen far from the tree in terms of neatness) I know I will break something – most of the “things” don’t matter that much, but a hip replacement at the age of 35 is unacceptable). At least until I get some plastic surgery done. Yeah. There.

And I cannot believe I just wrote an 8-line sentence. Eat your heart out Orhan Pamuk here I come.

Mills and shots

When I was very young, my maternal grandfather put me in charge of grinding coffee beans. It was fun, kept me busy for a few minutes and made me feel useful while providing freshly ground beans for my grandmother to make Turkish coffee. When finished, they would allow me to experiment with the remaining wet ground(ed?) gunk in the bottom of the little cup, and often I poured cold water over it, added some sugar and just drank it. Then bounced off the walls for the next few hours.
Those three of you who seem to somehow follow me (hi, dad!) might think I'm going to into this tirade about how the "new" electric modern state of the art fancypants mills that grind a whole pound of coffee with the touch of a button are far worse than the original ones etc etc but no. I will not. I have no idea why I wanted to write about the coffee mill and me bouncing off the walls high on caffeine at the age of 5 but I really could use a shot of something right now and either one of the boys could use some "help mom and keep yourself busy" chore right now.

After the rain

The boxes are opened, the clutter is somewhat organized, and I as type, stuck in the realm of insomnia once again, again and again, sleepless as usual though my eyes are hurting from the exertion, I feel nauseous yet calm. Composed. Tranquil.

Tunca starts 1st grade on Thursday. He seems at ease. We'll see how that goes. My baby, riding the school service bus, every day. That came a bit quicker than I imagined, I guess.

Almost whole month...

Has passed since I last posted something, and that was a repost.

I should write about Arda's camp, Tunca's swimming lessons and how we decided to finally move and still wonder why we made that decision. We really like our place. We just never really "moved in." After 8 years in Istanbul, a friend recently told us our house looks like we just moved in.

I must have written about this place. It's on the same street where I grew up. It's a block from the Marmara sea, so close that we often hear the horns (what are they called anyways?) from ships on foggy nights, the smell of iodine is overwhelming after the rain for some reason and we have seagulls hanging out in our garden plus some weird flock of green parrots in addition to a zillion crows. Tunca was born here. Arda remembers this house as his house, not the one overlooking Bryant Park, not the one on York Avenue on the Upper East Side, but this one. They keep asking us whether we will take the doors with us (no), the bathroom fixtures (no), the curtains (maybe some), the sad attempt of Bilge’s and mine on stenciling on Arda's one wall.

So next week, we move. More on that later.

For you to muse upon, here's how gorgeous Seytan Deresi (The Devil's Creek) cove was.. It is still as peaceful, incredible, calming and mesmerizing as it was even though more than a decade has passed since we were there last...
And here's how the boys spent the last five weeks:
And more on that, later as well because I have to start doing some major cleaning - throw away everything we haven't used in the past year. Well maybe two. Except some sentimental stuff. Yeah.

Reposts. Because I am lazy like that

Some rambling from the past month, edited & posted simply because I don't have anything else to write since Arda is away at camp and Tunca's summer school plans went down the drain and I desperately need a few hours to myself just to get my head together and write about a few things in my mind starting with the utter devastation the Morgan family has faced this past week with the passing of Ryan and his mom, Missy the same week, from neuroblastoma and breast cancer.

--

You know how you always want to do the best for your kids and keep wondering every freaking step of the way whether you are doing the right thing or saying the right thing or even thinking straight? I am so tired of second guessing myself that I am, at 2Am in the morning, unable to sleep (surprise surprise) thinking over and over about stuff. Yeah, for lack of a more sophisticated word that covers this manic schedule and over thinking and all, and for all I care, it's "stuff."

The whole "I have it all together" act is wearing me down.

Please someone smack me in the face and tell me to pull it together or get over whatever this slum is so I can just go to sleep.

9

Today was Nathan's 9th birthday. I wanted to do something special for his family.. maybe make & sail a few paper-boats off in the sea towards the Prince Islands. Or something. Lingered over what would be appropriate, meaningful, anything.

I can only write that I thought of their family today, as I do often. I have "known" Nathan's family since Susan & I were pregnant back in late 1999. I know Nathan's birth, and heard his soft voice a few times over youtube, and watched him grow and become a sweet, loving, wise brother, son and friend. A wonderful, wonderful boy. I screamed with joy with every clear scan and shed tears with many set backs... His presence in so many lives, many of whom he never even met, still overwhelm us all, and always, always remembering him is the only thing I can do now.

So Nathan... Happy birthday - may you have a glorious one in the gardens of eden. We love you, and will always, always remember you.