Thursday, April 19, 2012

Why you should call your long lost friends




Turns out we are never too old for parental advise or warnings.
Turns out my mother was right about not running down the stairs.

Hanging out with my ditsy self proved to have its consequences. I was expecting an important phone call (yes, from a boy, but nothing like what you are thinking), and my brains and my phone were scattered around the house as usual. As I was building the first Turkish spacecraft ever in my room, I heard my phone ring downstairs. I took a run for it.

You can guess what happened next. Monday, bloody Monday, Monday, bloody Monday... Oh Bono!

My is back out and I am bruised all over. I have been instructed bed rest for a week and muscle relaxant injections on daily basis. Bed rest is a torment for someone who is as energetic and naughty as myself. I have exhausted all the magazines and DVDs at home. It is super frustrating not being able to dance, especially when the competition is so close. :(( I also have to wear a corset, but I am not gonna complain about that :) I feel pretty, oh so pretty... Oh West Side Story!

As bored as I am, I am starting take this experience as a bliss. In addition to breakfasts in bed and I am receiving flowers & cards and more importantly, phone calls from long lost friends, exs, their families.... I knew that they were always there for me but it had been a long time I had been reminded.

It got me thinking, why does it take some sort of a personal flash news to reconnect with the people who used to be dear to us?


I guess when we lose touch for a certain time, we feel the need to have a valid excuse to get back in touch with them... as if, if we called someone out of the blue, it would make us less cool in their eyes or as if it would be a pathetic gesture !@$%????? Others are intimidated by the possibility of awkward moments that could arise.

I fail to grasp how we got so concerned with our images that friendship and love came secondary? When have we traded sincerity for posing? The irony of is that someone who is so pre-occupied with being cool is obviously NOT a cool person and nothing is cooler than a free-flowing person, freed of cultural norms and inhibitions. And if you are cool indeed, you will tackle those awkward moments just fine.

I am sure that everyone has person whose soul existence in their lives has diminished to a sad phonebook entry. Everyone should to get over themselves, and give them a call.

At least, make sure to make me run down the stairs time to time. 'Cause my spacecraft is far from being complete, so my next news flash won't be any time soon.


Tuesday, April 10, 2012

This goes down to my very first crush ever



I used to travel to Sweden about 4-5 times a year to visit my father. First, I would be overjoyed by our reunion, but later the ADD typical to 13 year olds would creep in. I would manage to keep myself busy with the yummy Swedish hot dogs and H&M for a few more days but soon or later I would be overtaken by boredom (which can be blamed for my occasional existential angst). That was when my parents picked up the embarrassing habit of asking their friends, "Can your kid be friends with mine?"

Awkward introductions were followed by awkward acquaintances. A 16 year old nympho, a 9 year old who was desperate for attention and finally a 13 year old "princes" were among some of my friends. I met him in one of these dreaded attempts of my parents to find me friends.

He did not talk much, he was the shy kind, maybe because of his poor Turkish. Our first day together did not require much talking anyways as we spent the entire day on rollercoasters. Our friendship which started with a high dose of adrenalin turned into hours long TV sessions over the next years. We would sit on his bed and zap between The Simpsons and Beavis and Butt-head. Weirdly, those were precious moment of insight to his world moments although we did not talk much:

- A Green Day poster on the wall, he is cool > check
- An astronomy book by his bed; cultured > check
- No football, nor soccer team flags in his room > check
- An electro guitar, he has a garage band > check
- Zaps when he sees Dawson's Creek > check
- Offers me snacks > check :)))
- Gym bag; athletic > check
- His girlfriend's bale shoes from when she was 4!! > :'(

In those awkward moments of sitting on the bed in quiet my heart would skip a beat.

Our families continued to hang out until we are 16 or 17, so I got to see him once or twice until then. He made my heart skip a beat every time.

It was not until I was 28 that we got to hang out again. Much to my pleasure, he turned out to be a great young man. Still handsome, athletic, cool, cultured, and to my surprise, a great conversationalist.

Seeing him after all those years got me thinking of love and the power of it. Love is the source of all motivation and inspiration.

I want to thank him for making me write again.





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Madness need not be all breakdown. It may also be break-through. It is potential liberation and renewal as well as enslavement and existential death.
R. D. Laing

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Ozgehan duy sesimi!



Her hafta hevesle bloguma girdigini, sonra yeni bir sey goremeyip hayal kirikligina ugradigini soyleyip, daha sik yazmam icin beni tesvik eden Ozgehan'a...



Son yillarda Turkiye'deki en trendy koyun Bodrum’daki Guvercinlik olduguna iddaya girerim!

Ustelik o kadar eforsuz, o kadar mutevazi bir uslupla ki Cavalli utanir.

Nostaljinin yukselisi en cok buraya yaramis. 80'lerde bi grup Alman pilini pirtini bir karavana sokusturup egzotik doguyu kesfetmeye yola cikmislar. Nitekim Ege'den disari adim atarlarsa bira gobeklerinin kuculecegini dank edince Guvercinlik'te karavan kolonileri kurup, Efes tokusturmuslar... O gun bugundur de ordalar.

Haliyle, Hans ve Cludia'lar Berlin'den degil de, Bati Almanya'daki IchMöchteFünfKofte, Scheiße, DrOetker falan koyunden geldikleri ve Berlin’de oten duduk sehir merkezinden dalga dalga yayilarak anca 10 senede oralarda duyuldugu icin Guvercinlik’e getirdikleri hersey 70ler ve oncesinden kalma. Yani butum esyalari vintage.

Karavanin birinden muthis New Orleans Jazz parcalari yukseliyor. Balkondan kasketimin altindan sinsice burnumu uzattigimda karavanin bahcesinde 30-40 yildir gunes yediginden artik orjinal rengini kestiremedigim bean bag chairlarin, Eames sandalyelerin uzerine kurulmus, yuksek belli kot sortunun uzerine onden baglamali gomlek giymis, kelebek gozluklerini temizleyen bandanali teyzeler goruyorum. Sanki Nisantasi’ndaki bir café’de asli 1940lardan bir Coca Cola reklami. Amcalarda ise Ataturk’un Tarabya plajinda giydigi speedo/sort mayolardan (resimdekinin biraz daha uzunu) var -hem trendy, hem de vizyoner olsalar gerek-. Su anda buna imkan vermeyeeksiniz ama aslinda gozunuz alisinca ve stil onyargilarindan ozgurlesince, erkek vucuduna en yakisan mayonun bu oldugunu kaniksamaya basliyorsunuz. Sayet, torsonun ucgenligini hic bir stil bunun kadar vurgulamiyor. Bir kac seneye Vogue’a da gelir. Bi de gobekli olmasalar… – Artik saktiklarindan icinlerine cekmek kurtarmiyor da … -

Inanir misiniz, gece kiz tavlamaya giderken hala siyah deri ceket giyen James Dean kilikli delikanlilar var. Sanki her an arabasini koyun isiklarini yukardan goren bir yere cekip, arka koltukta kiz arkadasini goturmeye calisacak. Sanki her an Olivia Newton Those Summer Nights soyleyecek… Sanki ayaklarim topuklu giydigimden degil, dun geceki dar bi sokaktaki acik havada swing partisinde cok tepindigim icin agriyor. Sanki Speedo mayolar degil, benim Birkenstock’larim absurd. (Allah'tan Converse’lerim yanimda, yoksa kendimi baya uncool hissedicem)

Hadi Almanlari ve karta kacan Turklerin vintage esyalarini anladim da, gencleri cozemedim. Tesadufi yada bilincli olarak –ooo piti piti, himmm, galiba tesadufi- hepsi hipsterlar. Annelerinin ve babannelerinin démodé esyalarini rasgele giyip re-modé vaziyette duvar uzerinde cekirdek citliyorlar. Elinden cekidegi alip, otu koydun mu al sana Brooklyn.

Nostaljinin hic bitmemesi, 90'larinsa hic gelmemesi dilegiyle...


Sunday, April 25, 2010

sican kiz arkadasini dusunmenin soguk ruzgari

Bugun size kendini centilmen/galant poz kesen ama iclerinde yontulmamis ayilar bulunan erkeklerden bahsetmek istiyorum.

Uzaktan her davulun sesi hos geldigi gibi bu dumbelek herifler de uzaktan hos gelirler. Torbalarini tasiyip, kapini acar, yemek ismarlar, dogum gunun de en guzel cicekleri gonderir, bayilirsin. Iliskinin ilk aylarinda tam puan alirlar her seyden. Hatta hatta boyle bir adam gercek olamaz dersin... ... ve malesef gercek degildir de.

Nitekim cicim aylari gecip, erkek kaleyi feth ettigi hissine kapildiginda iclerindeki ayilar homurdanmaya baslar. Bir gun birden bir cumlenin sonuna sizi dumura ugratan bir "lan" eklenir , "Naber lan?" Halbuki ayi yavrusu ta kendisidir. Bir kac aya kalmadan o chop sticklerle nazik nazik osami sosunda marine edilmis deniz kestaneli inside-out roll yiyen adamin agzindan kafasini bozan birine "orospu cocugu" cikar, duvara carparsiniz.

Tabakta kalan son parcayi size sormadan alir. Ne de olsa o erkektir, onun daha cok yemeye ihtiyaci vardir, ve o parca onun TABI KI hakkidir. Nezaketen bile karsinidakine sormaya gerek duymaz.

"Vucud sampuaniymis, organik aloavera ozlu Aveda sampuanmis, offmus, pofmus, ona 50 kagit verilir miymis, Haci Sakir de onlarin isini gorurmus, sen enayi miymissin" diyen, eli cebine gitmeyen ukala adam, hic tukurdugunu yalamaktan utanmadan senin dusundan buram buram aloavera kokarak cikar. Ama, o hala kasaya geldiginde bantta yanliz bir Haci Sakir ilerler, senin sampuanlar azaldikca azalir...

Yatagin hangi tarafini istedigini sevgilisine sormaz. O gozune bi yer kestirmistir, orasi kayitsiz sartsiz onundur. Cunku o kendi rahati bozulmadigi surece centilmendir. "Once bayanlar" prensibi sadece kapidan gecerken gecerlidir, cunku kapini tutar ki, arkadan pandigini yerlestirsin.

Her dedigi dogru, hatasini kabul etmez, ukala, cekilmez tipler cikar o boyali kabuklarindan.

Bu arada hala torbalar tasinir, cicekler yollanir elbet. Ne de olsa o bir centilmendir. Yeterki uykusunu kacirmayin, rahatini bozmayin.

Cunku bunlar kiz arkadaslarini "sicarken" hayal ettiklerinde ondan sogurlar.

Bir arkadasim erkeklerin sevgililierini klozet ustunde ikinirken, zort zort osuruken hayal ettiklerinde kizdan soguduklarini soylediklerinde dumur olmustum. Meger sevgisi ve algisi o kadar sig insanlar da mumkunmus.

Bu ayilarin kapaziteleri o kadar limitliymiski, kadinlik anlayislari o kadar sigmis: o minik beyinleridenki kadin terlemezmis, killari uzamazmis, kaka yapmazmis...

Bu adamlari centilmenlikleri tevekkeli bu kadar ozurlu.

Onlar kumandalarina, yataklarinin istedigi taraflarina tutuna dursunlar, ben fosur fosur tuvaleti inletmeye gidiyorum.

Monday, March 29, 2010




As the huffing and puffing about not writing in Turkish got louder these days, I decided to write in my mother tongue for a while.

Daha fazla Turkce yazmadigim icin hormurdananlar oldugundan, bir muddet Turkce yazmaya karar verdim. Gozumuz aydin! :D

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Oh inspiration, where art thou?

How genetics work

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Iliskiler adil olabilir mi, yoksa hepimiz kek olmaya gonullu muyuz?

Her seyin olcusunun manevi oldugu ve herkesin maneviyatinin farkli konustugu bir duzende bir iliskiye nasil adelet bicersin? Bir standart horizon olmazsa tartinin bir kefesindeki sen mi, obur kefesindeki o mu agir basiyor nasil anlarsin?

Yanlis anlasilmasin, guc yada sevgi olcmek derdinde degilim. Ne kadar adil bir iliski oldugunu olcebilmek isterdim ben. Mesala, onunla birlikte olabilmek icin sevdigin insanlardan uzak kalmaya razi olmak ona dogru attigin 10 adim sayilirsa, onun senin istedigin eve tasinmasi kac adim sayilir, yada sayilir mi?

Biri hep 2-3 adim atiyorken, oburu hep 10ar 10ar geliyorsa enayi midir yada lokomotif mi? Ne zaman vericilik sagliksizlasir? 2er adim gelen ne zaman iyice salip 10ar 10ar gelenin butun yolu kat etmesini bekler?

Adil bir birliktelik mumkun mudur yada bir taraf hep hammal midir?

Adalet aradikca iliskiler politiklesiyorsa, en temel hakkin olan esitlik arayisindan vazgecmeyek mi lazim? Ama bu insanin kendine saygisini somurerek kisiyi her gun tuketir. Ote yandan, surekli kurdeleyi cizginin uzerinde tutmaya calistigin bir halat yarisi da her gun insanin yasama sevincinden ve gucunden calarak yipratir.

Adaletin varligi da yoklugu kadar yipratiyorsa, o zaman her sey iki kisilik bir yolda mi tek kisilik bir yolda mi yorulmak istedigimize bakar.

Ikili iliskilerde bir birey nerde biter, oburu nerde baslar diye dusunuyorum. Iliskiler fedakarlik ve ozveri ister. Ortada bir nevi ortak cuvaliniz vardir, insan yeri geldikce kendi cuvalindan alip ona koyar. Bazen hafif toplardir ortak cuvala aktarilan: cani arkadaslariyla cikmak ister ama esini yanliz birakmaya kiyamaz, bazen agir: esi hastadir, varini yogunu onu kurtarmaya harcar. Ama ne zaman insanin kendinden alip iliskiye koyduklari aslinda obur insana gider?

Ve daha onemlisi bu ne gibi sonuclar yaratir?

Insan bunlari dusunmeyerek mi kendine kotuluk eder, yoksa bu cevapsiz sorularla ugrasarak mi?

En klasi aptal olmak, farkindalik insani yiyip bitiren.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Dolunay mi, regli mi, yada insanlar hakikaten damarima mi basiliyorlar bilmiyorum ama birilerini isirasim var.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Snobs' Guide to NY




Here is a list of hip Manhattan hangouts from snobby New Yorkers. I really can't take much credit for more than gatheing what other people recommended. I have only been to a few, and those I liked better than others are marked with ***.


Restaurants

Soho
Balthazar *** (for brunch)
subMercer
The Mercer Kitchen
Omen ***
Blue Ribbon Sushi
Downtown Cipriani
Giorgione

West Village
Bar Pitti (I personally wouldn't recommend it)
Joe The Art of Coffee
Mary's Fish Camp
The Spotted Pig
Wallse
Waverly Inn

Chelsea
La Bergamote (Bakery)
Tia Pol
The Empire Diner
Bottino
El Quinto Pino

Tribeca
The Odeon
Upstairs at Bouley Bakery

Nolita
La Esquina ***
Cafe Gitane

Lower East Side
Freemans
Schiller's Liquor Bar
Falai
Katz's Delicatessen

Gramacy
Pure Food and Wine *** - finally a place that treats the high-heeled vegetarians with respect!

Flatiron
City Bakery
Shake Shack

Hell's Kitchen
Market Cafe
Esca

Midtown
Keens Steakhouse
Grand Central Oyster Bar & Restaurant
The Four Season's Restaurant
Zibetto Espresso Bar
Bergdorf Goodman BG Restaurant

Upper East Side
Kai
Bemelmans Bar
E.A.T.
Cafe Sabarsky

Spanish Harlem
Rao's




Shops

Soho
Dean & Deluca
Opening Ceramony
Ted Muehling
BDDW
Pearl River Mart
Jonathan Adler
Kiki de Montparnasse
MoMA Design Store Soho
Seven New York
3.1 Phillip Lim
TASCHEN
Moss
Rick Owens

West Village
Murray's Cheese
Greenwich Letterpress
Strand Book Store

Chelsea
Diane von Furstenberg
Jeffrey New York
Printed Matter

Tribeca
R 20th Century

Lower East Side
Russ & Daughters
Freemans Sporting Club

Nolita
Eillen's Cheesecake

Midtown
Bergdorf Goodman

Upper East Side
Barneys New York

Monday, December 28, 2009

Expat transition tips

Writer: Casey Marriott

Casey Marriott shares tips on making a swift transition to the city by doing like the locals do.


There are only so many times you can endure the haggling of the Grand Bazaar, gaze at the Blue Mosque’s tiles or take a cruise down the Bosphorus, as wonderful as they are. By the time you’ve played tour guide for your parents, siblings and friends, you’re almost on a first name basis with the entrance guards. Once you’ve crossed off all the ‘must see’ sites in Istanbul, how can you enhance your true Turkish cultural experience (besides eating copious amounts of kebabs)? After carefully studying the native habitants in their natural environment (crikey!), we present you with a list to help you cross over from tourist to ex-pat in just 10 easy steps.

Step 1. Befriend a local Manav, Tekel and Eczane.
After moving to a neighborhood, it is vital for survival to befriend the local shopkeepers (I’m talking pay when you like, front door delivery and discounts). Although they may charge a kuruş or two more then the franchise supermarkets, not only are you supporting the locals (which automatically puts you in their good books) but you also get greeted by a friendly face that genuinely cares about your well-being; also a great opportunity to practice your Turkish or at least brush up on your charade skills (particularly funny when attempting to explain embarrassing sicknesses at Eczanes).

Step 2. Jump off the fence and pick a team.
As far as passion goes, football is high on the list of beloved things in Turkey (followed closely by wives and children). Find which club colors suit you best and head to a game; better yet, hang around the football stadium before a match begins and watch the fans rally in their team colors chanting their slogans (the one time public swearing and slagging is tolerated). Beşiktaş, Galatasaray and Fenerbahçe, the 3 biggies in Istanbul, provide particularly entertaining street parties that stretch from the centre of the areas all the way to the stadiums. Fanatical football at its best.

Step 3. Learn Backgammon in a makeshift tea garden.
Look on any main street, back street, side street- any street really - and be sure to find a ‘çaycı’ serving tea to his posse on miniature stools and knee-high tables. Set yourself down, put your phone on the table (trust me, everyone’s doing it) and order a round of tea or ten. Grab a backgammon board (if they don’t have one you’ll probably see someone run off to grab one) and begin the war of the white and black checkers and luck of the dice; first to five wins. This is an ideal time to chain smoke.

Step 4. Leave food out for the street cats.
No street is short of the usual motley crew of stray cats, which are generally quite well looked after by the surrounding inhabitants of their chosen hangout. Now you know why there are piles of clumpy unidentified food sorts left on the streets. Adopt your own cat gang and find yourself some street loving. You don’t even need to bother with fancy pricey cat food (as if a cat can tell it’s eating seasoned wild salmon anyhow); these cats eat anything from pasta to bread to scraps.

Step 5. Slow it down to a snail’s pace.
You can spot a tourist in Istanbul by the fast speed at which they walk, coupled with gold medal-worthy twists, turns, and swerves as they streamline through the crowd. But when in Rome, as the saying goes, take the time to stroll down the large boulevards stopping whenever and wherever you please (smack bang in the middle of the pathway with three of your friends linking arms is fine) to gaze at a shop front or greet even more friends to link arms with. Take the time to smell the roses, or in this city, the delicious roasting chestnuts!

Step 6. Go public with a loud lovers tiff.
It’s not all that uncommon to see a couple having a massive row in a shop which usually results in ‘person A’ (let’s not be sexist now) storming off leaving ‘person B’ to chase pleading ‘aşkım aşkım’. By now, your resistance to the Turkish charm has probably crumbled and you’ve found yourself a lover (or possibly the reason you’re here in the first place). Take yourselves to a crowded area and create a scene worthy of an Oscar.

Step 7. Make out passionately in a cafe.
Either the air in Istanbul is charged with love or everybody has pent up passion from the restrictions of living with parents until a late age. Either way, PDA is certainly not an issue in this country, as you will discover at your local cafe ‘with a view’ of the couple in the corner practically sitting in each other’s laps, tongues down each other’s throats. Tie this in with Step 6 and you’ve killed two birds with one stone.

Step 8. Join a protest.
It doesn’t take long to realize there are countless things to protest about here (unlike our home countries where everything is already regularized and legalized to the teeth). Quite often you will see groups of people swarming up and down Istiklal chanting and waving banners (the place to ‘be seen’ for protesting). Tag along and support their causes; the presence of numerous police armed with guns, helmet and gas masks will surely give you a feeling of living on the edge.

9. Drink Efes
Need I say more? Besides, I’m on a word limit and hopefully will get free beer for such blatant advertising.

10. Get up close and personal.
Whilst we were raised to never ask ‘those questions’ about age, weight and wages, such boundaries are relatively non-existent in Turkey. Once you recover from the initial shock of having your belly rolls pinched, being drilled about your salary and asked your age (all within the first 5 minutes of meeting someone of course), you may even find the breakdown of such barriers refreshing and even appreciate the intimate environment it creates. When you finally find yourself becoming the drillmaster, you will truly know that the integration process is complete.

Friday, December 25, 2009

A comparative biography

Frogs vs Les Rosbifs


London



London



London



London


Bordeux


Lyon


St Etienne


Les Alps

Moving in together



me by Kaya

Monday, December 7, 2009

Egypt

We first intended on going to Morocco as three girls and decided recruit a big intimidating guy as a safety net. We needed the kind that would crumble the enemy with his gaze, deafen them with his voice and behead them with a single slap.

Many fearless man applied from all around the world. Some had lost an eye, some had survived Saddam Hussein's gas attacks but had mutated into the ugliest, scariest faces ever seen. They were the toughest warriors alive.

Finally, it boiled down to the two most intimidating candidates:




The Butcher aka Marcus
vs
Deniz aka Marco.



To determine who is a better fit for the job, we held a contest. Both man were put in the Sahara with no food nor water and they had to survive 10 days fighting against the 1000 terrorists we released which were commissioned to kill them.

Marcus never returned...

One of our travel buddies, Zeynep, decided a man such as Marco could not be trusted with three woman, and back out. Hearing of Marco's victorious but vicious survival in the Sahara, Morocco closed its doors on us.

Thank God Mossad is omnipresent. They knew about our ban out of Morocco and they proposed to dump us in Egypt for free, hoping we would cause some trouble there. We agreed, but all we had in mind was a calm vacation. ;)



Sharm El Sheikh




Sharm trascended our expectations.

Some people, who I suppose were inexperienced travelers, had warn us that Egypt was ugly, dirty and dangerous.

Sharm was quite the contrary.

Deniz (yes, there were two Denizes in the group) and I could have traveled to Sharm safely as two girls. Marco was just a bonus. I would even feel comfortable traveling alone. Marco didn't seem to agree. I tried really hard to steal a night alone but under Marco's jurisdiction, I didn't stand a chance. Afterall, he was commissioned to overwatch us. It of course did not help that I was dating one of this good friends.



The Red Sea was abundant with fish. Marco and I decided to to have a closer look.















Cairo

Cairo was all the things they warned us about. It is a pity such an important heritage is in the hands of the Egyptians. They do not seem to realize what they have is worth. The whole area around the pyramids were trashed. I don't mean a few plastic bottles here and there, I am talking of big city dumps.

There were no signs anywhere explaining the history of the monuments. Most of the time we tried to pretend we belonged with the American tourists who had hired an Egyptologist to show them around.

The museums and the monuments were badly attended. People could freely climb on the pyramids. No pictures were allowed inside, but no one was there to surveille.











From far Cairo may look like Manhattan, but this is what is it like when you are inside.




Saturday, December 5, 2009

Thank you Matt!





My wonderful friend Matt, who lives in SFO, composed a list of stuff do while you are there. It was so long, he couldn't post it as a comment, so I am publishing it here on his behalf.

Matt (and all other friends in SFO), I am sorry I didn't call you guys up. My boyfriend informed me we were seeing friends the very last minute. I thought we were doing a "couple trip" until then. So, I ended up meeting his friend, instead of you guys. :( I missed you all, too!




"Hi Duygu, I'm glad to hear you're well on your way to falling in love with CA :) I have a ton of more suggestions to add, but I'll just add a few for now:

+3 for Big Sur: (1) For those interested in a magical beach view, check out "Point Lobos" especially in the winter when the crashing waves spray 50-75 feet in the air and one can watch seals sunbathe and dive for meals. (2) My favorite beach there is "Julia Pfeiffer" where one can watch the sunset through tunnels bored in the cliffs by waves: beachPhhttp://www.flickr.com/photos/andrewmeyers/3045691058/ (3) For those in the mood for a more committed adventure, pack your sleeping bag, tent, backpacking stove and hit the trail our of Big Sur state campground up to "Sykes Hotsprings" -- a 10 mile, beautiful hike through redwoods, bay trees, madrone and CA oak to a natural hot spring hidden deep up the valley. Soak your soar body and jump in the invigorating cold stream!

Further North on Highway 1: you come to "Half Moon Bay" area, which is a rather cute and fun town. I also enjoy another town called "Princeton by the sea" ~15 mi further north. "Ketch Joanne" is a great greasy spoon and has delicious fish and ships. If you're in the mood for something a little classier there's "Sam's Chowder House" a 1/4 mile south of town -- yummy local seafood! The world-famous "Maverick's Beach" -- home to some of the world's biggest surfing waves (only a few times a year) is just a short hike over the ridge from town -- this is one of my favorite beaches in CA.

In SF proper: Soo much good stuff in this city. Here are a few highlights:

Eats: (1) "Cha-Cha-Cha" in the Mission (a historically Latino neighborhood) is a lively old-time SF restaurant with strong Cuban influences. (2) down the street is "Weird Fish" -- a fun spot to get great little plates. (3) those willing to pay more can have a classy Another cool stop is "Tataki Sushi" http://www.tatakisushibar.com/ which is (as far as I know) the first (and only?) 100% sustainably fished sushi restaurant! (5) "San Tung" in the Inner Sunset has the best Chinese-style chicken wings you will ever have. (6)"Brother's Korean BBQ" on Geary street is fantastic -- you cook yourself over mesquite wood coals -- delish!

Drinks: (1) "Bruno's" and (2) "Medjool" are great, big clubs in the Mission. Check out the (3) “Elbo Room” for a more relaxed space, or really any other bar in the popular 16th street and Valencia Street area. The Marina district is also known for its nightlife – more the preppy type in general. I like (4) “MatrixFilmore” and (5) “City Tavern” just 1 block down Filmore Street.

Fun: (1) "Planet Granite" rock climbing gym in the Presidio looks onto the Golden Gate bridge and has great facilities. (2) "SFMOMA" is a wonderful museum and always worth a stop. (3) "alemany farmers market" is super colorful and has amazing local food -- one really gets a feel of south-american and south-east-asian and californian growers all rolled into one place. (4) "Dolores Park" is a great place to hang when the weather is nice -- enjoy the hippies, random jam groups, and the guy who sells gourmet mushroom truffles: http://www.yelp.com/biz/truffle-guy-san-francisco.

North still of SF: The "Marin Headlands" is an incredibly beautiful area, and soooo close to one of the major metropolitan centers of the US. It was all military land housing secret bases through the cold-war era (many of which you can visit in their decomposing states), but now it's national park land. I recommend visiting the "Point Bonita Lighthouse" http://www.nps.gov/goga/pobo.htm which is only open like 12:30-3:30 Sat-Mon. Teetering on the edge of its own personal island cliff, it has ridiculous views of the ocean and SF bay and harkens back to an older age. If you want to stay in the area for cheap, check out the "Marin Headlands Hostel" http://www.norcalhostels.org/marin/which is very simple, but good.

A little further north and you'll come to the world-famous "Muir Woods" which is one of the closest places to SF to walk among what's left of the ancient redwoods. Some of these trees are 3000 years old. This area is very accessible, with almost disney-land-like paved pathways. For those more adventuresome, hike the "Dipsea Trail" all the way to "Stinson Beach" -- about 10 miles round trip but an absolutely beautiful hike through open hills covered with golden grass and oak trees, to cool valleys filled with ferns and moss-covered bay trees. Once at Stinson you can eat at the "Parkside Cafe" for a tasty stop. The beach is just a walk through the park from there."

Monday, November 23, 2009




Soyle iki tane bezi poposunun arasina kacmis yagli pehlivan diyecegim, resmi gorup bunu okumaya baslayanlarin birden istahi kacicak. Ama iki dakka sabredin, sonra hep birlikte muradimiza erecegiz.

Gelelim yagli pehlivanlarimiza... Iki tanesi yavrum Allah girismisler. Bez donu yakalamakmis, calim atmakmis, bunlar hikaye. Eller ensede. Kim kelleyi koltuk altina alirsa, oburune hukmedecek. Bir insanin bedenini kontrol etmenin en kolay yolu kafasini yakalamak.

Filmlerde adam sol eliyle kurbanin saclarindan tutar, sonra obur eliylede burnunu dagitir... Cunku kafasini kontrol ettimi zavallicik bir yerlere kacamaz. Belki de harbi erkek kisa sacli olur kulturu, eski medeniyetlerde savasci rolundeki erkegin saldiriya daha kapali olabilmek icin saclarini kesmesinden gelmektedir?

Amcam Sigmund Freud'un bana verdigi yetkiye dayanarak diyorum ki, erkeklerin kadinlarda uzun sac sevmesinin altinda bu vucuda hukmetme, kadina sahip olma ic gudusu yatar. Hatta uzun sac torpulenmis bir fetistir. Gizliden gizliye obsesif ve saldirgan bi yani da vardir.

Oh be, soyledim... Incilerimi sactim yine. Burasi benim blogum degil mi, atis serbest!

"Atesli" posterlerde adam kadinin sacini arkadan parmaklarina dolar ve ceker. Kadin savunmasizdir, adam ona sahip olmustur. Bence uzun sac gunluk hayatta bile derinlerde bir yerlerde erkeklerde bu cagrisimi yaptigindan kadinlarda uzun sac severler.

Son olarak DuyguLabs'deki kucuk sample grubumdaki once 10 kere calkalayarak, sonra 10 kere particle acceleratorimda dondurerek yapi taslarina ayirdigim erkeklere bakinca bir de sunu fark ettim, ne kadar playboy, o kadar uzun sac duskunu. Yani ne kadar ava cikiyorsa, o kadar cok kadinda uzun sac ariyor. Elinde mizrak, onunde bir yaprakla geyik pesinde kosan atalari uzaklardan onlara "kolay yem" mi diyor belki? Bilemedim.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Driving along the shore of California





Friends from NY used to say that I was certainly NY material, whereas my incredible punctuality with deadlines had convinced other friends from CA that I belonged laid-back sun State. Some not-so-innocent dance moves might have added to that too. (Oh, Brown..)

I am not a beach bum, I hardly ever tan. I am with Marilyn Monroe on preferring pale white skin to bronze. I would stand out in California. I am not serious or cynical enough to pass for a New Yorker either. Consequently, the debate was never settled for me, until recently.

Between the time I attended Columbia and my visits to my boyfriend, I lived in NY for about 5 months. I liked it there, but something never felt quite right. It lacked something that was so essential to me. I can't put it in words, but my spirit felt contained in NY. I still can't put my finger on what it was exactly. Manhattan has everything I wish for in a city: a great park, a well-developed public transportation network, flat roads for cycling, several Michelin recommended restaurants, crazy parties, three international airports (Newark caters to NY, too), the biggest show cases in the world and a green-minded mayor and his great administration which provides the city with endless cultural activities. It is the perfect recipe for a great city, yet, it never captured me.

I had been to LA for business two times already and both times I ran back to New York after passing three days there.

Yet, our roadtrip on Highway 1 blew my mind... Now I think that California is something else.


Day 1

We started in LA.

My bf had to stop there for a meeting. Meanwhile, I chilled in Venice Beach.

He picked me up and we drew to San Luis Obispo.

Just out of Santa Barbara, we passed a small University whose entire student body was in the ocean waiting for a big wave. The school looked empty. 4 years of surfing, bonfire parties, whale watching...

We stayed in a beautiful hotel called Sanitarium in SLO. It is a 4 bedroom house owned by a local painter. Each room has a bathtub in front of the bed and is unique in decoration. The breakfast is served at 9. You sit around a big table with all the guests. In the middle of you all, they put a big pan of organic asparagus omelette or whatever they find that day on the farmer's market. On the right of your plate there is small glass of fresh squeezed orange juice and a cup of steaming coffee. On the left if a small bowl of organic granola. You dip your garlic butter toasts in your omelette and chase it down with a big gulp of coffee.

http://www.thesanitariumspa.com/


Day 2

San Luis Obispo is the up coming Napa Valley. The land prices went up drastically over the past 10 years as more vineyard kept popping up. We stopped at a random one for wine tasting. Turned out it was owned by a Japanese agri-holding. The owner bought it for fun. The hostess proudly said, " We don't sell our wine on the market and we don't do mass production. The limited wine we do is available only through wine clubs or here at the vineyard." They were very confident in their wine. They want you to try their wine because they are sure you will buy some once you taste it. That's why you only have to pay 5 bucks for tasting 5 wines although a bottle is pretentiously sold at 35- 70 dollars.

To be honest, when she mention the Japanese owner, I got skeptical. What do Japanese know about wine making? Once I put my nose in the glass, my doubts shattered. I could almost smell a rain forest in that wine. Hints of soaked earth, freshly crushed coffee beans, and vanilla bursted out of the glass. My nose warned my taste buds this will be something extraordinary.

The wine was indeed out-of-the-ordinary. Both the red and the white tasted like Sake! Sake Bordeaux, Sake Shiraz, Sake Cabarnet... We spit the 5 wines we tried in the bucket. It made our wine tasting experience quite brief and dissappointing, but in retrospection, maybe be it was a good thing as we still had 4 hours of driving to get to Carmel.

In an hour, we got to a beach taken over by a huge colony of sea lions. There lied maybe 5000 of them along the shore. They were only 3 steps away from us. If you slipped, you would find yourself cuddling with them.

Kaya wanted to rent a convertible for the trip so that my polka dot scarf could blow in the wind like Marilyn's as we drove on the cliffs by the ocean. I wasn't a fan of this idea because: 1) i didn't want to get a tan (especially a trucker's tan), 2) driving in the wind for hours isn't fun,
3) it is disturbing when you are on the highway, 4) it gets cold in the car when you drive fast. But Kaya was not in a mood for cooperating that day. He dictated that we were getting a convertible. His absolutism made me super angry but for the sake of not ruining the holiday I decided to contain it inside. Poor me ended up holding my scarf above my head like a tent for about 6 hours everyday. That certainly added to my discontentment and brought me to explosion. As we approached to the the most recommended part of our trip, we started arguing.

Usually a redwood forest on a high cliff by the sea shore would have dazzled me. At times the waves were so big and powerful, they would reach the road. I secretly wished we would get caught in one and would get soaked to the bone. Then, he maybe would regret not listening to my argument but the universe was on his side.

There we were in Big Sur, which is claimed to be the prettiest place in Cali and we were fighting while other couples were happily seizing this romantic view by making out. They were taking 'happy couple' pictures, splitting a sandwich and sipping beer out of the same can and we were sitting on two distant rocks.

We sat there for 20 minutes until the ocean mellowed us out. There is something therapeutic about that view. We hugged and kissed then, we finally took a happy couple picture.

Big Sur was amazingly pretty. Hippies settle there because it moves you so much that you realize you don't need much to be happy. It makes you feel like you can be forever happy by looking at that view. You see the essence of life. Consequently, everyone you meet there is a very peaceful, pleasant person. They so are warm and cheerful that even if you are not from there, you feel home.

Pfeiffer Beach is an mandatory stop in Big Sur. It was probably the highlight of our entire trip. The above photo is taken there.

Nepenthe is a popular eatery in Big Sur. The guides go on and on about their steaks and pump you up for a fine meal but they only have diner food. Fortunately, the visual feast makes up for the so- so food. With that said, I should probably mention that it is said to be the best restaurant in the area.


Just about 100 meters down from Nepenthe is the Big Sur Bakery. We only had desert and coffee there but from our conversation with its loyal costumers, we figured that the food is better there.
I would still prefer a plain turkey breast sandwich at Nepenthe because its terrace is really the deciding factor. Good food you can find any where, but the view is unique.

You should still stop at the bakery to see the open air studio of a hippy artist. Through out the summer he hold percussion sessions in this studio/theather/garden/carpenter shop or whatever you want to call it. He says major artists go there to play with him. They share smokes, drums and woman. He has a big collection peyotes, a type of hallucinogenic cactus. He said he didn't try them yet, but I bet some people will land on the moon next summer. Why would you need so many other wise?

An hour away is the prettiest town I have seen in the States. Carmel-By-The-Sea. Small little boutiques, tons of small art galleries, few cars, small but expensive American houses, trimmed lawns, newspaper boys on bicycles, big trees on the sides of the roads, old couples hand in hand make you feel like it is a film set. It is by far the most charming place.

There are several good places to stay at in Carmel. The problem is there is nothing under 200 bucks.

Tickle Pink Inn is known to be the nicest but it is out side of the town, which means that you would have to drive back and forth. I like to be able to walk every where from my hotel. Especially in such a beautiful town, walking is the only way of seizing it.

Cypress Inn is in a beautiful colonial looking house. Another popular pick.

Carriage House Inn is cozy and romantic. Excellent views of the water.

We stayed at La Playa Hotel. It is conveniently located, 5 mins away from the busy downtown and as well from the ocean. It doesn't look as nice as it does on the website. It is older than what you would expect, but the Turkish receptionist is quite nice. He sent us a free bottle of champagne ;)

Day 3

There is nothing really worth telling about day 3 as I had to go to Fresno for a meeting. It is a sketchy old town which has nothing to offer. After the meeting we drove to SFO. The Carmel-Fresno-SFO route took us 8 hours. Once we got to the hotel, we immadeately passed out.

Day 4

We woke up and went to the famous Pork Store dinner on Ashburry Street. It was around 10 on a Sat morning, so we didn't have to wait for a table but those who arrived 10 mins after us had to wait about 30 mins in line. It is a famous dinner because it was the cradle of the hippy movement. Turns out, the clientele didn't change much over the decades.

Ashburry Street is still the home of the hippies and drugs. We enjoyed walking along the street, peeping at all the new inventions at the smoke shops and sex boutiques. You can see all sorts of people there. Tourists, homeless, transexuals...

From there we walked into the Golden Gate Park. Many people were outside running. We paid 7 dollars each to enter the Japanese Tea Garden. We tried to getaway with paying 5 but didn't work. They built a perfect Japanese garden. Bonsai domes in the river, two life size temples, red fish ponds, fully costumed geishas serving green tea. It was another moment of absolute Zen.

Renzo Piano's green masterpiece California Academy of Sciences is a wonderful example of modern architecture.

"Renzo Piano’s goal was to create a sense of transparency and connectedness between the building and the park through both a careful selection of materials such as glass slender support columns and a thoughtful arrangement of space.

“Museums are not usually transparent,” says Piano. “They are opaque, they are closed. They are like a kingdom of darkness, and you are trapped inside. With the new Academy, we are creating a museum that is visually and functionally linked to its natural surroundings, metaphorically lifting up a piece of the park and putting a building underneath”.

And that is exactly what the eye meets on arrival: an undulating green roof expanding over 2.5 acre, landscaped with 1.7 million individual native plant species, unifying the different functions of the museum, creating a new link in the ecological corridor for wildlife. The living roof reduces storm water runoff by up to 3.6 million gallons of water per year and includes an observation deck, allowing visitors to admire the rooftop wildlife haven and learn about the benefits of this sustainable feature. The “green blanket” is bordered by a glass canopy containing nearly 60,000 photo voltaic cells, which will produce up to 10 percent of the Academy’s annual energy needs. These photo voltaic cells are clearly visible in the glass canopy, providing both shade and visual interest for the visitors below." (World Architecture News)

Then we met up with a friend on the pier. The bridge over us, the sail boats on the sea and the near by island made us feel like we were in Ortakoy in Istanbul. I can easily say that the highlight of SFO is a restaurant called The Slanted Door in the Ferry Building on the pier. The food is so good, people don't stop to talk during the dinner. Super fine samples of Asian Fusion Cuisine.

http://slanteddoor.com/index.html

Finally we went to China Town. It is supposed to be the biggest one in the world. To my surprise, it was much neater and less dense than NY's. Moreover, you could communicate in English! That, and the Oreos next to the counters suggested that Californian Chinese are more willing to integrate.

Before we headed to the airport, we stopped a the Golden Gate Bridge.

Our visit to SFO was very brief. I wish I had more to say on USA's most preferred place to live but that was all I could squeeze into 24 hours. If you have have recommendations, please drop here a few lines!

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Genetik olarak sosyetigim ben.

Hic inkar etmeyecegim. Gayet pahali zevklerimin oldugu dogrudur.

Evvela sushi, personal training, Iphone, Stella for Adidas, masaj.. Mac'e uyeyim, kisin Isvicre'ye kayaga giderim, yazin Bodrum'a... Konserdir, muzedir falan onlari saymiyorum bile cunku onlar yeterince yuzeysel degiller. Boyle en bayagisindan, Yeditepe ayardinda inciler sacicam simdi size.

Bazilari bunlari telefonda mi yetistirir, kapi onu smorting malzemesi mi yapar, onu bilemem...

Daha kartlamama ceyrek asir kala yatmadan once illa yuzume krem surerim. Chanel, Lancome, Clinique ne varsa hucrelerim kendilerini iyi tanir. Gel gelelim benim 13. kromozomumda "sosyetik" yazdigindan kabul etmiyor oyle 50 dolarlik kremleri. Nitekim ilk Chanel sisesinde davul gibi sismis gozlerle uyandim, Clinique goz torbamda tomurcuklanma yapti, Lancome ise nemlendirecegine pul pul kuruttu. Supper alerjik cildim Body Shop'un %100 dogal urunlerine de kirmizi kart verdi. Bi sisesi 150 dolarlik La Mer'e ha diyor.

13. kromozomda kodlu: P.A.H.A.L.I. Hatta hatta La Mer ve sushi karsilikli helixte twist halindeler. Daha neler var, neler... Gelicem onlara da baska bi ara. Kendi fetvami veriyorum.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Fall Getaway



Freshen yourself up. Hop on a boat, straight to Burgaz Island. Travel light. Grab a toothbrush, no PJs necessary, and check your worries and duties in at the Kabatas port. In an hour step into the surreal.

Time to discharge your polluted mind. Let the old Greek houses, absence of cars, unusually peaceful locals distract you. Istanbul exhausted soul. Breath Burgaz into your heart, eye lids and gut.



Treat yourself with a dinner at Kalpazankaya Restaurant. Situated on top of a cliff on the less resided back side of the island and in the pine forest, it is known only by a loyal crowd who keep it a secret. Let the simplicity of it purify you. Leave your shoes at the wooden tables, walk down to the sandy beach. Your fish will be ready by the time you dry.

http://www.kalpazankaya.com - Don't let the bad marketing mislead you. It is far more romantic than it looks like in their website.


Top it with a night in the nicest kiosk of the island. Take a fifteen minute walk from the restaurant to Villa Mimosa. White ornamented exterior, high ceilings, just renovated spacious rooms, a big deck with the prettiest view of Istanbul in the distance...

http://www.adalar-hotel-istanbul.com/ - Disregard the prices. They are open to negociation.

Indulge yourself. Revive.

Write me a thank you letter.

Monday, October 5, 2009

Aziz's


Sundays could be quite boring if I did not live in Istanbul but this city is a joker, a flirtatious mamasita, a devil in disguise, a mad scientist who experiments on his own kids and each street of Istanbul is a different film set, so its charms and adventures never end. Here, Sundays are rarely about laundry and baking. Instead, you find an eye patch and hook, and go treasure hunting.

After indulging myself with delicious brunch at Cuppa (my favorite spot for brunch), I walked down my favorite street crowded with antique and second hand furniture shops. The shopkeepers sat outside sipping tea and absorbing as much sun as they can before the evening settled. The weather is menopausal this time of year. It is cool in the morning, than it is sweating hot at noon and than it is where-are-my-wool-socks?-cool again at night.

The narrow streets, the paved roads, antique shops, and the warmth of the shopkeepers put me on a time machine and ship me back to Istanbul in 1960s. I looked at my watch and turned to my friend with panic: "The broadcast ends at 5 pm on Sundays on our single channeled TV, so, I better rush home and remove the lace decorations before the neighborhood pours into our house for the TRT Choir!"

I was about to rush home, when a 1963 Da Vinci branded whisky bottle started calling my name from the window of a small shop. I went in to ask to price and that is when I met Aziz. A bundle of joy and Qi. Aziz is a 37 year, old blue-eyed man from Diyarbakir. His warmth is magnetic. You are drawn into his shop because of the positive vibrations he radiates. He offered us tea. When I refused, he lifted the table cloth exposing a little fridge hidden under table and asked, "I also have home-made iced tea from this morning, Italian white wine a friend gave me, or (pointing to the sister of my whisky bottle), Vodka, but it is Tekel" in a thick Kurdish accent. That was some surprise from a bathroom sized shop. Even more surprisingly, I spent an hour in there.

He carries 18th century silver spoons, old British alcohol bottles, old pins, cuff links, caftans and jewelry from Uzbekistan and much more but it is his stories that sell the best. I listen to how lived in Malta as a fugitive for two years and how he got shipped back, how during his military service he punched a field officer (binbasi) who humiliated him and got sentenced to months in prison and how he fled from there, how he got caught four years later due to a business transaction, how his luck turned around the second time he had to do the military service, how he smuggled his first antiques from Uzbekistan, how he first set up his business in Ortakoy on a clerk, how a British lord bought stuff worth thousands of pounds, how his sister emerged from the slums of Diyarbakir to being a bag designer in Italy...

You must stop at his place for his stories are capturing, his antiques are charming, and his heart is too big and naive to sell them at a big price.




His shop doesn't have a name, you have to ask for Aziz to the shopkeepers.

Kuloglu Mah
Faik Pasa Cad
1/1 Cukurcuma
Beyoglu

0532 372 2881