36 here.

In the darkness of the night another age approaches. Last year was supposed to be the year when I felt the pangs of getting old, I guess. The ruling feeling of my 35^th year was a general sensation of everything being simply overwhelming. And this coming from a woman who doesn’t work, doesn’t have stress, doesn’t really have deep moving revelations or anything. Yet it seemed to go by so fast. Call me shallow.

I watch these sitcoms and dramas on TV and the messages I get from each episode depends on what kind of a mood I am in that particular day, more often that particular hour. An overwhelmingly happy year was my 35^th. Even in episodes where catalytic stuff happened, I thanked god or whatever for everything I had, for my children, for my life and felt reassured that I was doing well, doing my best at least and that I was at peace with myself. The uneasiness the feeling of not belonging the insecurities the craving for something I have not gotten my finger on seemed to diminish every passing day though not completely disappearing I am, once again, or seem, at peace with them.

So happy 36 to me. Two decades ago, when I was in a far far country, celebrating my 16^th, in a strange unknown yet exciting tradition I felt it was just the beginning of “something.” If I were to go back and grant myself something, a wish, I would have wished that I carry that same excitement till I was 96. Still going strong at 36, though in a less festive mood, by large because my beloved isn’t here with me to celebrate, but we’ll make up for that when he gets back in a few days.

So for next year, I promise myself to go back to singing (even though I might suck at it). And play more. Mostly with my children, and a bit with life.

The Dream

While speaking to my mom today, she said, "we all had dreams, and somehow we had to compromise and make do with whatever life dealt us. What's important is not to get bitter about it and move on."

She's so cool. And deep. I wanted to write something about dreams, and hopes and something deep.

Here's what came up:
I promise not to get bitter if I don't get it, though.

Now, I am not that big a fan of Scandinavian design, though some stuff from Eva just blew my mind.

How appropriate is this for Turkish culture? Bring your own grill.

Fun with Taboo Jr.

While playing Taboo Jr with Tunca:

(the word is seagull, and I am not supposed to use sea (duh, deniz in Turkish) and bird).

zym: you know how we go to the beach and we see these things that fly?
t: kites
z: no, these are living things, they're alive
t: alive kites!
z: these have wings and they fly, some kind of animal?
t: geese!
z: well, kinda like geese, but smaller, and white
t: small geese! white geese!
(time's up)

z: seagull
t: I call them geese.

İtalyanca

Yemekte, Arda Tunca'nın kulağına bir şeyler fısıldar. Kikirdemeye başlarlar. Normalde kikirdeme durumları "kaka çiş osuruk" gibi kelimelere tepki şeklinde olduğu için pek kaale almayız ama bu sefer merak ederim:

z: Ne gülüyosunuz?
a: sakın söyleme anneme
t: İtalyanca bişiler söyledi ben de anlamadım

bkz: sense of humour