Content Sharing

Dog fetching dog.

Sharks and Golf? Oh yeah.

This one came as a surprise to no one. Netflix's plan to separate DVD rental service is a no go. 

NY Times Travel section celebrates my beloved Ann Arbor.

And finally, this quote is from Mr. President on our loss of one awesome Steve Jobs. 
"... There may be no greater tribute to Steve's success than the fact that much of the world learned of his passing on a device he invented." 
Bullseye. I read it on my iPhone.

Product Review: Lip Booster and Eyeliner

I bought this lip booster many years ago and finally it ran out. Molton Brown's Wonder Lips Booster. It is supposed to topically introduce collagen on your lips, and I definitely found it to work. Definitely a big RECOMMEND.

L'oreal's Voluminous Eyeliner however is a big disappointment. I am medium olive skinned, and I need sharp color to show on my skin. I bought the black one and it barely shows. This is generally not too uncommon but then I realized it is because the color separates in the liquid, and even if you shake hard it doesn't really come on the wand. Totally a FAIL.

Product Review: Pore Strips

Definitely stay away from the Walgreens brand. Even if you use the whole pack, the affect won't match a single strip from Biore. The material does not work at all, and the shape of the strip is not well thought out either. The perfect shape of the Biore strips and the strategically placed little cuts increase efficiency incredibly by reaching the unreachable nooks of your nose and by leaving no air bubbles. And of course, both the strip and the layering material works like magic.

Although, Biore have an "Ultra" version, which, apart from the increase in the price and decrease in the number of strips per pack, I don't see any difference. Even the packaging and the description is exactly the same. So don't fool for that one either.

Oh, and, by any means try to stop yourself from googling "nose strips" or "pore strips" for images. Beware.

Product Review: Nail Polish Issues

At work, I have to wash my hands a lot. At home, since I have a cat, I wash my hands a lot more. And I am a busy woman. So in short, I need a nail polish that dries quickly - I don't have time to sit and do nothing - and stays on.

First, traditional nail polish: I have tried many nail polish brands, all the quick dry's, all the no chip's. I found that the OPI ones are the worst.

WORST NAIL POLISH EVER: OPI Nail Lacquer - any regular OPI nail polish, in good condition, does not last more than a few days. Now I have to mention I have only tried matte colors, and they also take forever to dry.

* Sally Hansen's No Chip 10 Day Nail Color: Starts chipping on the second day right away.

* Maybelline Express Finish Advanced Wear - This one actually is not that bad, it wears average, but does not dry fast as it is advertised.

(Non) Honorable Mention goes to another Sally Hansen product: Hard as Nails Xtreme Wear for separating and going stale way sooner than an average nail polish.

I have tried Shellac as well, which is a dream come true when it comes down to drying time. However, there are some drawbacks - First, if it wants to chip, it will. Chipping may not be the right word, maybe peeling in small patches is a better way of putting it. And, some places treat your nails with some kind of hard buffing to make it stick better, which breaks the top layer of your nail, which will be exposed in the chipped areas. In addition, since it "peels" off, to remove any damaged area of shellac you will have to peel it out and you will likely damage your nail quite badly. Another thing is, although it lasts more than a traditional nail polish, it cracks quite soon, possibly because it is applied very thick, and different layers end up expanding/contracting differently. Last but not least, it is a pain in the neck to remove it. Impatient people will end up peeling it off hence damaging their nails, or if you are like me, you will spend hours to try to take it off at home with acetone (and I tried the same trick they use in salons). The best case scenario you go to your mani/pedi place and they will do the same and it will take a while chunk of your time.

So my solution to all this trouble is a really awesome product called Incoco Dry Nail Applique. These are real nail polish strips that come in different sizes to match your nail shape, and they have a base coat, the color polish, and the top coat all integrated in an "almost" ready, peel and apply format. It takes me less than 10 minutes to apply all and voila! all dry. I have tried every type of it and they all work perfectly, including the French Mani types. They are not "stickers", it is real nail polish. All the layers are the same color or clear, so no "layering"*. It is very flexible, stretches over your nail when you apply. It stays on my nails, without chipping, for at least 10 days, most often more than that. When it starts chipping, it only chips if your nail underneath chips (basically, it doesn't chip, it just comes off with your nail). So for those who have healthier nails than I do, you won't have any problems. It does crack like Shellac does after a while though, but it happens way later (it happens after a week for me) and it is very thin and hardly noticeable. When you wish, you remove them with regular nail polish remover, you may just end up using more cotton balls than normal but not more than a few.

Oh, and most importantly, they protect my nails like no other product and let my nails underneath strengthen and grow. No other method ever helped me accomplish that, not even a little.

Here is a video explaining what they are and how they are used:

Wallgreens used to sell them in few colors, but unfortunately it is available only online now at Incoco's own website. Good news is they have an incredible variety. They are also a bit expensive, however, it works like a total mani/pedi for me, stays longer than a regular mani/pedi, and I always am able to use one set of stripes for both my fingers and toes. So in my opinion, it is totally worth it.

I have always been complemented on my nails when I use Incoco products, and decided that I should promote it to increase demand so they may in the future sell the product in more convenient ways and they don't go out of business (and, who knows, maybe it will become cheaper!) They come in many colors and designs, here is how one shimmery design looks after 4 days on my nails:

*Beware of Sally Hansen's similar products! They are applied as easily but they chip and break way too soon, and what really annoys me is, in some of their shades, they use a white base coat instead of a clear one, and the color layer chips away and you are left with white patches on your nails - looks very cheap and ugly. Their are also very low quality, which you will understand when you first put them on - they are not as flexible and are very brittle. Overall - quality and experience does not match at all!

Which makes me wonder, at the end of this review, how did OPI and Sally Hansen become what they are in nail products industry. ? We women are gullible in ways, I suppose. :)

People Pinball

Mein Traummann

Vulnerable - that's what I am.

When I am in a real relationship, I don't necessarily look for romanticism, gestures taken out of books, big bouquets of flowers or boxes of chocolates (although it never hurts!), or, god forbid, such things coming from the wrong person. But after more than a year of being single, and quite so, I find myself feeling like a teenager when it comes to things like that, and even getting very emotional after watching movies and reading books, wanting unrealistic things... It's just a feeling that I miss - it's funny though, 'coz I don't think I've ever felt that way in a real relationship. I mean, my relationships were incredibly fun and happy (except for one prick, unfortunately), but nothing like this feeling that I've been longing.

I tried to get away.; I needed a vacation, I knew. I couldn't. Real life is hard that way, you know, problems occur, things happen. So, this summer, I could not get away. I could not recharge, I could not restart my feelings. I had to stay and cope. I've tried, kept distracting myself with a lot of little and big things. Most of the time they've worked, but those moments they fail... it's as if you've never succeeded to cope.

When you realize that even the smallest things are enough to make you sad, it's time to analyze what's wrong. Because, that means you are just too close to making big mistakes. When you are that vulnerable, you are easy to misplace value and trust on people you don't even know, take a lot of things personally, get disappointed more. You basically create the grounds for disappointment for your own self.

Need to get out of this vulnerable-heartedness.


But until then, I have a daydream that makes me smile when I need to warm my insides.

The imaginary guy in it has the face of a person I kind of met, but not really. I have never met him in person, and I barely know who he is. But from the bits of information I know of him, my subconscious created this persona of an incredibly fun, creative, smart, mature man. So mature that he can laugh at anything, including himself. In my eyes he is not much taller than I am, always carries a smile on his face, and funny enough, his short hair is reddish brown / auburnish, and he has mild freckles. It is funny, because I've never felt attracted to such physical traits. Anyhow, this not so tall, smiley, sweet person is the man of my daydreams recently. Of course, I am sure the persona I created has nothing to do with the face I decided to put on him - it is just a person I created in my mind, an unreal, non existing, a bit too perfect person you can only find in dreams.

What I see is so peaceful... I just see us laying down on a bed, diagonally, completely content with each other's silence. I lay on my stomach, my arms folded under my head, facing away, my eyes closed. Even then I can sense his presence though, even if his body is not touching mine, I know he is laying right beside me, with this incredibly content smile on his face. He is laying on his side, facing me, his left arm supporting his head. He looks at my hair, my neck, and touches my bare skin on my back with his fingertips, tracing the curves of my back, playing with the pieces of my hair that falls back on my shoulders.. I feel my smile widen on my face, and I feel his widen as well. He can feel how I react to his sweet touch. And we are just very content, laying there, not speaking a word, just enjoying that shared moment of being at the same place, at the same time, together.

Nothing more.

It is this feeling that I long for, you know, in between all the daily adventures and realities of life, this feeling of peace and quiet, shared by someone who appreciates it as much as you do, and who appreciates you as much as you appreciate him.

Although that persona I created is not real, and will probably change many faces as my subconscious jumps from one visual cue to another of my conscious daily life, I still hopelessly, childishly believe he might exist , somewhere.

Then the moment passes and I go live my very real, mostly emotionless daily adventures, without my daydream lover.

My sweet riding boots...

... just arrived today! I love them. They are slightly big, but oh well, they still feel fine and this is the smallest size anyways. Look at those sweet toe protectors!

Also, I received the jacket I ordered but the cut is very weird so although the size fits, the "fit" doesn't fit. I'm sending it back, and, taking the risk of looking like a d-bag (because of a huge brand name across the back) I'm ordering this one:

Initially I wanted the black one, however, it is 45 bucks more expensive, so I'll choose practicality over fashion at this point.

Biky Biky

Here is my new baby. 2007 Ninja EX250, or, as another female rider calls lady Ninjas, Ninjette. Runs great, and looks are not too bad either. It has a few big cracks in the front fairing but it'll do till next summer. So far only rode it a few miles for trial, waiting for my minimal gear to be complete. I did receive my awesome helmet but I might need to change it, and my jacket and boots are arriving tomorrow. Excited! I'll upload a smily picture of yours truly on her new beauty when everything is here. If you can see that smile through the helmet, that is.

Mini Blog Notes

It's great to see that people are following this blog even when I am way too lazy or busy to keep it going. Thanks people!

There are many little things that I wanted to write about, and if I keep procrastinating they will never make it here. So here is a shortened, combined update:


* So many momma-to-be's around! Since last year babies have been popping out everywhere. A very close friend of mine has a 5 month old cutiepie that I am yet to see. Another close friend is 5 months pregnant. My cousin and his wife are expecting a delivery within few weeks. Another friend just welcomed their baby girl over the weekend. I don't think there has ever been a time I was more exposed to pregnancies. I must be so affected that the other night I dreamed that my mom was pregnant! Funny, because, one lady at work is also pregnant and it is kind of not talked about at the office, although it is increasingly obvious. So in my dream my mom and dad kept it a secret for quite a while too, and I was a bit mad at them since my brother and I couldn't enjoy the early belly times. When we learned we kept touching the baby belly all the time. We were so excited to welcome a little baby brother or sister.


* Speaking of dreams.. Since a very close friend left the country for good, I've been going to my regular bar in AA way less frequently. Things change so quickly, sometimes. I also ended up not going home to vacation this summer. So all these combined in a weird dream, in which I saw my friend, A, living in Istanbul, and every year when I go for a vacation, there is this bar we go to. I know somehow in my dream, that "last" summer we spent a lot of nice nights there, and the place is called "the R Bar", which to my knowledge does not exist, at the bottom of Istiklal Street in Taksim. When I come to visit him "this" year, we end up going to somewhere else, across the street, where I see another friend, from college, who's working there. He seems troubled though. I don't remember why we were there, but I remember it was a narrow building at least 10 storeys tall: The first two floors were cafe/bar, and funny enough, the only restroom was at the top floor, which was designed like a fancy hotel room. Anyways, after we leave that place, we cross the street, and have a smoke in front of our regular bar. I can remember the sign of the place very clearly, "the R Bar", in a very old English pub format. We look inside and we see another familiar face - the bartender in our real life regular bar happens to live in Istanbul and work at the R Bar.
I remember feeling very much at home, in every sense. Everything was back to normal as A and I had a smoke in front of our regular bar with our regular people in it. It was very peaceful.


* Miami, Miami,
You've got style
Blue sky, sunshine and sand by the mile...

As an avid Golden Girls fan, I always wanted to see Miami. I finally made it to Southbeach and was very, very underwhelmed and disappointed. Here is the story that leads to a long weekend getaway.

I try to minimize my smoking, which is, as this is the second time I bailed out on my quitting plans, very hard. So I now try to walk around the apartment complex if I really want to smoke. One friday evening, while I'm walking with a cigarette in my hand, I see that my friend B, who also lives in the same apartment complex, is home. I tap on his porch doors to say hi. We end up having a few drinks, playing the guitar (after 15 years of not touching a guitar myself I was unexpectedly into playing one) and singing some old songs, and even playing soccer outside on the backyard a bit. The only time I played ball like that was when I was barely 7 years old. Two of my class mates and I met at one of their house, petted some baby goats and played ball. Oh memories..

Anyhow, so as B is going to be leaving the US for good soon too, and since we had some way of getting some cheap tickets to where ever we wanted, at the end of the night, we decided to take a vacation together. Initially I wanted to go somewhere in California but my idea was not supported as the flights were longer and we did not want to spend too much time on the road. Then thought of Clearwater, FL, but to our disappointment, flights to Tampa didn't look all that good. So we decided on Miami, and within two hours we got out flight tickets, booked a hotel room and packed for the early morning flight.

The hotel room we booked, I must say, was not that cheap, and it looked great. We wanted to be "downtown" so we decided on this hotel called the Colony hotel right at the oceanfront in Southbeach. It looked very well decorated and clean and all. Oh you wish!

But first I should comment on how Miami in general looked like. To me, and to my friend, it looked like a place 20 years before our time. All the buildings were at best 1980s style, all over the city, and not well maintained AT ALL. Everything looked dirty and falling apart, with a lot of empty buildings everywhere. Every store looked like it was a convenience store of 1940s. Our impression of Miami was forever scarred on our way to the hotel from the airport.

Southbeach was no better, but since it was, well, on the beach, it kinda made up for it. Every hotel has a cafe/restaurant at the lower level, and it is very very lively. So over all, it looked like a cheap summer place. The hotel, though, oh my god. The room was small, looking at the next building, the air-condition did not work well and was physically breaking apart, didn't have a chair, a table or a mini fridge (although it did have a big flat screen TV but that was much pretty much it), and the bathroom was only large enough so you can turn around your own axis. It looked clean, but only looked clean, if you know what I mean. Anyways, I thought, if I can sleep, that's enough. And there was no bugs - to me, awesome news. Only we didn't know that on our second night a small brown mouse would come to our room and say hi. I have no problems with mice, but B was not happy about it at all, and after a couple of hours of hotel staff not knowing what to do, finally we moved to another room, directly oceanfront this time, but in the same exact condition otherwise. The bed creaked, and though there was a table this time, it shook unstably when anything was put on it.

The only good part of Southbeach was the nature on the beach. Endless fine sand, beautiful lively greens, and the ocean. Although, I must say, it wasn't the most beautiful waters I've ever set foot into. There was a lot of  weed in the water that came from the ocean, and it was not clear. Although nice, not the most beautiful by any means.

And unfortunately like any touristic place it was crowded like hell, and from what I heard of other people's conversations at the beach, it was a pretty superficial crowd. And my god, the amount of thighs, boobs, and six packs we have seen is uncountable. There was simply too much "meat" !

Although the cafe/restaurant area was nice and lively, B and I found that we were too old for the "club" scene and ended up having a beer or two here and there away from the crowds. I'd much rather have a couple of low-key beers at the beach with warm conversation and be fine with it. I realize that now I'm looking for quiet, peaceful, low-key vacations rather than "yay, spring break!" type of vacations.

So overall, Miami is not what I expected at all. At least, Southbeach. It's not my ideal vacation spot, let along a place to live. The city is just too badly taken care of and everything is old. I would be seriously disappointed if Miami was the first place I saw in the States, and probably would not have stayed.

And as usual, where ever I go in the States, I come home to Ann Arbor, loving it even more.


*Finally firmly intending to buy a motorcycle. Already bought my gear, here, take a look at them:

Fieldsheer Roma 2.0. Not my first choice, but at least it doesn't have a huge logo on the back. I am intending to make it more visible with reflective tape on the back (the lining and the logo on the back is already reflective).

AFX FX-90 Multi - Good, easily visible, still stylish.

Icon Women's 29ers.

Vega Merge Boots

After these, you would wonder, where the hell is the motorcycle. Well, if you wish me luck, I will find a 2007 or newer Kawasaki Ninja 250 (unfortunately, it is very hard to find the dual purpose bikes I want second hand... :(  and these Ninja's are like Civic's of cars- they are everywhere and decent enough) soon. I'll post it once I find the "one".

* It's incredibly hot in AA this week - all I do is sit at home, search for bikes or bike gear, and watch silly Lifetime movies, and not having any butterflies in real world in my stomach, feel surprisingly romantic after the movies end. It's not a total waste, though, at least I get to have incredibly warm, romantic dreams every once in a while too!

OK, so far so good.


PS: Sorry about the funky picture locations. I'm having problems with editing here, I'll go check on it and correct them soon at home.

Dream 7 - the Beast

My nightmares are notoriously vivid. All my dreams are, but nightmares, since I wake up from them with my heart pounding, are tad bit more so.

I woke up this morning around 6am, and it took me a while to register where I am and what reality is.

Of course, this lazy butt is not going to leave the bed that early in the morning, so when I calmed down, I had to recite the dream to myself before I fell asleep again so I wouldn't forget it. You may think it's a silly thing to do, but it is crucial for me to remember. I know that being able to remember your dreams, and actually the habit of writing them down stimulates your creativity. I think it enables you to get in touch with the normally more dormant parts of your brain.

Just the other day I was an FBI agent in my dream. And again, I woke up early morning, and as of that moment I could remember every detail. My dreams are almost always like movies - they start with setting the tone, a plot is weaved, a climax, and a resolution and ending. Perfect plots. And this FBI dream was no different. But, alas, sleep deprivation got the best of me, and before I could make a mental note of my dream, I went back to sleep, and when I woke up several hours later, I could only remember a couple of moments from my awesome dream. Come on now, who gets to be an FBI agent, going through all that action in their dreams. It was totally awesome. I wish I could remember.

Anyhow, so that's why I had to recite this dream to myself. Luckily, I was so scared that it took me a while to fall back to sleep, and I used all that time to go over the details of an intricate nightmare.

So in my dream, a few people and I are at the bottom of some stairs. I believe who I am with is my family, because that's who they are later in the dream. We stand in front of an entrance to a facility, which is below ground level. It's almost like Resident Evil in that, there are people who were left there without help, with some sort of creature. They have been left there to deal with it, and they are left with no food or water. We are there to help.

As the door of the facility opens, I see a tall Asian woman in a whitish work shirt and a dark pencil skirt, standing in front of a large glass cubicle of sorts, holding a stick that has some kind of raw sausage at the tip of it. All the other "hostages" are inside that glass cubicle, in despair. I understand it is one of the rare safe places. The tall Asian woman, with a curt bob, and a lot of fear, is trying to lure the creature to show it to us. So we will know what to deal with. She sees the beast is coming, and she races to the door that we are standing in front of, and we close the door. Somehow I am responsible of locking the door, and I panic as my hands tremble while trying to turn the locks to secure the door. I can feel the fear growing inside me. Because somehow I know that, the beast can come through an unlocked door. Securing the locks feels like it's taking forever, and the beast can just run over the door any second. I manage though, and I also fasten the chain on the door.

The beast is right on the outside of the door now. Everybody takes a turn looking through the peephole to see what it is. We can almost hear it breathing heavily. The Asian lady, after a while, thinks it may be gone, and tries to open the door without removing the door chain. The beast happens to be still there, and all of us feel like we're about to die for a second until we can close and lock the door again. She says, "Did you see the teeth??" I imagine some sort of sabertooth in my mind, but when I look through the peephole, for the first time, I see that it's nothing like that. The creature is a giant dog-like beast, it has no fur and no skin. It's all flesh. And its teeth are like those of a crocodile.

Awesome. I get so scared that I totally quit at that point. I tell everyone that I am sorry but I am just too scared to fight this beast. I'll go. They say OK, they understand. I climb up the stairs. At the top, I see my father and an uncle of mine saying goodbye to me and my mother. My dad says it is not a good place for us to be in. We give in, sadly though because he is staying behind, and we are too damn scared.

Somehow we still end up within the facility though. The facility goes many stores below the ground level. At the top are offices, where two rows are connected with bridges. At the bottom of the facility is a parking structure. And in some level in between, there is a strip of small shops. Of course, after the beast has taken up the facility as its home, all these places are deserted now except the few of us. Everything is in ruins. Suddenly, my mother and I end up in one of these destructed stores, and the beast finds us. We put some obstacles in the open front of the store, and hide behind them, but he can still find us. We try escaping from the back door of the store, to a backyard, where we leap over a parked truck and over some high fences, hoping that the beast cannot follow us. Because, if he does, he can actually escape into the real world. Even if we fear for our life, we don't want to creature to escape from the facility, where at least it can be contained. Luckily, we make it out and the beast decides not to pursue us any more, maybe deciding not to leave his home.

Then somehow we end up at the bottom levels of the building, in the parking structure. Right where it descends into another level down. We see the beast running towards us, but in fear. In a second, we have to find a place to hide. It's a deserted parking structure, there is almost nothing to hide behind. We see the rails on one side, and we clench the bottom bar of the fence and hang ourselves down to the floor below, only our fists visible, hoping that the beast cannot see or sense us. Funny, 'coz I remember thinking, can't he smell us? But the beast runs down the parking structure in a hurry and does not notice us. A few seconds later we see what is chasing him down - my brother and a friend of his are in full gear on their motorcycles, and apparently the beast is frightened from the sound of the bikes. They are so powerful and strong on their bikes. My brother is all in orange, both the gear and the bike, and his friend is all in black. As they come to where we are, we hear them asking each other where the beast went off to. So we yell, from where we hang, that he went down the the floor beneath us. They follow the beast.

Only problem is, all this time, we feel that there is a second beast on the grounds. This darker beast follows after the bikes, all scared, but relieved that the bikes are not chasing him. He is maybe older, definitely more tired, and he decides to rest with his talons resting on the very bars we are hanging from. I pray that he won't notice us, since he doesn't seem to smell our presence. But soon he does see us, and he calls his fleshy buddy to feast on us. With great agility we spring back on our feet, and start running. For some lucky reason, they don't catch us, but they don't quit chasing either. It's a tiring and stressful pursuit. We jump over deserted parked cars and some equipment, trying to find a safe hiding place, or else a way to loose them. But they are right after us all the time.

At this point, I have a black out during the pursuit, because the next thing I remember is me running into a glass office space upstairs. There is nothing to use for hiding there either, but that's my only hope. So I hide next to some furniture, making myself as compactly folded as possible, and hope that they won't come in.

Again the dark haired beast finds its way in. It first does not recognize me, and by this time I am sure they cannot smell. I hope that if I stay completely still, he will not recognize me there, he will think I am just another furniture. For a while it works. The beast comes in, and even sits right on top of me as if I were a chair. But after a while I think he knows what I am, and starts to tease me. I pretend that I'm dead, not moving a limb, not even breathing, as the beast nudges me and unfolds me, showing to me that he knows I'm alive. I know it is not going to work for long, and I consider running for my life. By this time, the fleshy original beast has also arrived to devour my deliciousness. As I sprint for a run, I see help coming on my way through the glass walls, and I run as fast as I can from the glass office. They manage to close the doors after me without the beasts getting out, and I run until I hit the stairway, which has a heavy iron or steel door - a safe zone. As I run I see the beasts trying to trick the people into opening the doors (funny enough, here, the beasts start acting like guests in a hotel room and start asking for this and that as if those people were hotel staff - but I should be pretty close to waking up at this moment as all the remaining bits of logic is gone from my dream). They handle it though, but they don't lock the doors of the glass office room initially, and I can't believe it. I yell and ask why they don't lock the frikking doors and let the beasts starve to death in there. They say they will, and they do lock its doors as I go into the staircase to get out of there. I see more help coming on our way. I see this one guy in particular, all in perfect gear for any sort of fight, and I ask him what's going on. He says there are many small fires within the facility (that were caused by the beasts destroying this and that) and that they were trying to put them off as well as trying to avoid new ones from firing.

Seconds before I wake up, as I enter through the thick metal doors into the safe staircase, I tell him to be careful and say "Please don't die."

And that's it.

What a horrible dream! Who says "Please don't die." in their dreams? Seriously!!

It was so damn vivid, I had to write it down.

On the bright side, I might make a good scriptwriter for cheap ass SciFi movies.

Today, for the first time in an unfortunately long time, I woke up to a lot of things to do, but it didn't bring me down.

For the first time, without a reason, I woke up embracing responsibilities, and they didn't bother me.

I woke up without needing more sleep. I didn't linger in the bed to savor the last minutes of the support my bed gives to my restless back.

Instead, I woke up with energy and a plan on how I will get through the day.

It is a very welcome change.

Panic attacks

This is a recurring feeling I have been having since when I was very young. Whenever I felt anxious, and a bit guilty, scared of what's to come because of my actions... a feeling of getting caught, facing the bad outcome.

Some sort of panic attack. It comes in the form of uncontrollable, body trembling, heavy and incredibly slow heart beats. It feels so slow and so strong that each pulse, originating from right there in the midst of your chest, moves all your upper body, including your arms, and nauseates you. Fills in your brain so you can't just count back from 10 to relax. Takes you hours to feel normal. I remember counting till high hundreds without noticing, nothing changing. It is notorious to happen just after you wake up and just before you go to bed. Sometimes it is so nauseating that you have to buckle down. Your brain races from thought to thought, restless, in fear, dreading whatever it is that makes you pinned down to the bed, your chest jumping up and down.

Times like these, a vision appears before my eyes. It is the hopeful vision of a big nail, or a pin, so big that it can cover your fist. I see it going through my chest, moving through my back, with its head squishing my heart into the back of my ribcage. This vision is a vision of hope, because it is the only way I feel will end this torture and leave me to rest in peace.

One more for the wish list

Adulthood means now I have to be more responsible about everything. I am in love with this beauty. However, I am going to act like a logical person and not buy it. Instead, I am going to act like a boring adult and think of my credit card balances and my tuition.

2009 Honda CRF 230M

Being an adult sucks in many levels and this is one of them.

On relationships - part II

Yeah so once again I am fooled.
I am 27. I have had many serious and not-so-serious relationships. I have lived with a boyfriend, I have done long-distance. I have been on both sides of the bridge of love, interest and power. I have been cheated on. Never cheated. I have compromised, I forgave. I trusted, I got jealous, and I doubted. Needless to say, I have had my fair share of the side affects of the affairs of the heart.

I have been pretty content with my life in the past year. I have my down sides but I like who I am. I am stubborn at times, and maybe a bit too straight forward. But I am also warm, welcoming, kind, strong, educated, intelligent, social and good-natured. I love the place I work at, and I am very very lucky to have a great boss. I love the city I live in. After having moved from place to place in my youth, I finally feel I belong somewhere, by myself, not because of "someone".

Many of my friends have ongoing relationships. I can't say most are healthy, but I am not sure how realistic it is to expect otherwise in real life anyway. A growing percentage of them are married. Very happily. I got used to going out with married couples a long time ago. A bit too early maybe. I spent my twenties trapped in a relationship that did not move an inch in 3 years, with a guy 7 years older than me, who  loved bragging about him being older. I regret a lot of things from that relationship but one big regret is that I feel I wasted my mid twenties with this "older" attitude instead of mingling with other young people in their twenties. You know, do all the things they do, get immature every once in a while, be out day and night, and enjoy the awesomeness of being in twenties. Regardless... I have had my own experiences, and learnt a lot, and matured a bit too soon than I would have liked. My friends started having kids, and at 27, I am getting used to be an aunt. Going out with married couples is nothing different, but when people expect or have babies, your social life changes dramatically. No more meet ups spontaneously, no more drinks outside, no more late nights, no more girl nights.

People leave your life one by one. There can be no one to count on. Friends are friends. In my culture, friends do a lot for each other. In US, they are VERY hard to find. And this is not necessarily from my own experience, I have observed this in lives of many young people. The weird thing is, no one seems to mind it. It is default here, you being by yourself.

So anyhow, the point I am trying to make, among all this nonsense, is that I have been through stuff and I am not a newbie. I have lived and observed many levels of relationships.

But at 27, having accomplished so much, my education, my job, moving to a city much like NYC, then to a whole another country all by myself, I still get fooled when it comes to the affairs of the heart.

I have embraced my singlehood a bit too much recently. I have not dated for a long time, was not even interested. My attention was on having fun, discovering new hobbies, and working hard. After some point I started dating, enjoying every bit of it. After considering marriage for 3 years to a guy that I would "settle for", I found out I was claustrophobic to the idea of a well-woven relationship. You know, the kind that in the second week you can't do anything without the other one's knowledge or indirect permission. Which has been a strange but wonderful self-discovery.

Then, at one point, you get fooled again.
Someone you know, who was totally not in your radar, asks you out for drinks, which, you know, nonverbally, ends up becoming a date. You have an awesome time. For a short while it looks like you guys are at the initial phase of dating, trying to keep an adult distance. You are kind of relieved yourself, since you don't want to rush into a relationship yourself. You just want to keep seeing each other, you know, get together,  sometimes very spontaneously,  do things together but totally spare each other the lives of each other. You don't want to mingle in each other's circle, you just want to have a good time now and then, and share sometimes shy, sometimes romantic, sometimes not-so-romantic texts and phone calls in between.

Isn't that what happens, normally? Isn't that a common thing to expect?

Apparently not. When I realized that things were moving a bit too slow even for my new found fear of relationships, I had to call it quits before I was emotionally involved. Ok I take that back I was emotionally involved a bit already. I liked him. If it was left to me, I would have moved forward a bit more, learnt more about each other a bit before I had to make a decision about a relationship. But, when someone says they don't want a relationship, it's never a "maybe". I've learnt that. I have used that excuse myself. It is never the complete explanation either. For every "I don't want a relationship", there is a "with you", hidden, unsaid, right after.

I guess all these years' of experience didn't go wasted totally. I can actually now realize a bad date on the second date, and confront it on the third. Old Jada would have stayed in, pretending not to notice anything, and tried to play along hoping that it would somehow work out at the end.

'Coz even if he was hurt by a previous relationship, even if his lines of trust receded, even if he feared.. When you like a person, when you like being with a person, every interaction makes you smile, every text/message/email rushes the blood in your veins.. You may act more cautious than normal, but those butterflies.. they will be there. And it will show. And lack of it will show too.

It is amazing how you start questioning yourself with such a small defeat of heart. Not that it hurt you deeply. It barely scratched the surface. But like a paper cut, it hurt unexpectedly.

Another issue I still have problems dealing with is the fact that men of our age almost always have baggages, and frankly, I am sick of it. I had to deal with prior girlfriends, unnamed friendships, ex-wives, the women that screwed them, whoever it is. You always want to be mature and give people space and respect to prior relationships. Interestingly, I have never seen this mature attitude pay off. In fact I believe it backfires since this is the third time I had to hear how much they liked their previous lady. I mean, come on. Serious or not, this is the last thing a girl wants to hear from you. To sum it all, I learnt very well, when you start anything with baggage, it never moves an inch.

It is funny how guys tend to obsess about the prick of a woman who screws them over. I suppose we women do that too. It is a fault of humanity. It gives a bad name for the rest of us, regardless of gender. Maybe it does really scare some people from any form of commitment when they get screwed over, but I highly doubt that. We humans are not built like that. We are built to hope (unfortunately), remember what was good and forget what was bad, and we are built to look for better things in every step we take next. I honestly believe, such affects of previous relationships only hold because those people have not moved on emotionally from those relationships.

I am done with people with baggages. Of all people, I, the rare person who never wanted to change anybody, know it very well that you cannot take a person and make him/her the lover of your dreams. I am very much in support of accepting and enjoying the differences. But baggages, man... I still don't know how to deal with. So far my verdict is something along the lines of "Do not ever date a guy with emotional baggage."

I also hate dealing with people who don't know what they want. 

This may sound very girly or needy, but it absolutely is not. I do not mean what you want in future. I mean, what you want NOW. Do you even know why you do what you are doing and why you are enjoying it? Are you self-aware when you are with me? You have to know what makes you feel good. You have to know what you want.

So. Got fooled once again. I don't think it was ill-intended, but it did hurt. And I know it was not ill-intended, at least that much I can tell, because I know that it would be easier to blame the other person than accepting the truth that he just did not feel for me. There is nothing you can do about that, you know, when someone just doesn't like you the way you'd like. Didn't you ever experience the same thing? How many times a truly nice person liked you and you just felt - nothing? So there. It happens. Both ways. It will not change anything to blame the other person, although it would have been more convenient.

This all makes me appreciate this other guy that I liked in the past. He had told me, as frank as he could be, that he was not interested in me. It was not easy to accept either, but that way I never got invested in it to begin with.

No matter how mature, strong, sensible we aim to be, sometimes rejection scars. Feeling of not being wanted is never easy to take. All we can do is to move on.

I don't know how these things work anymore. Either I am really old, or I am very young to understand all this. Maybe I should go back home, where at least I understand the culture. I might not agree, but at least I understand. I know where people are coming from, I understand how they act. Here, I don't understand anything. Everything is foreign to me. And as free and myself as I am, as strong as I am, people still take advantage of me. Not necessarily with bad intentions, but the culture is so individualistic... I don't know what to expect. I never do. It is hard to go on with no clues as to what's happening. I once said expectations are the worst. They make you delusional. It is very true. And even if you fight not to have expectations, if it is in you, there's not much you can do about it, they build up without letting you know. And when I say this it sounds scary. It's not high expectations. But even when your lowest, bottom most expectations are not met... Then you take a step back and think again. What went wrong? Why am I doing this to myself again? In fact, I did nothing wrong. I lived it the way I wanted to and the way many others enjoyed me doing so, while joining me in the joy as well as expectations. Most people want more of me in their lives. If that's not what you want... I don't think there's much I can do about it. I am done with people with baggages. People who are uncertain of anything. I am not cut out for this. I so am not. Maybe, after all,  being away from my own culture was not the best thing, maybe, the american way of friendship and affairs of the heart, does not work here the way I am used to and am able to accept.

Maybe it is time to go.

Enjoy the Tango

One of my favorite songs integrated in Tango.

Compact Living

Impressed.

Royal Wedding Best

http://i.imgur.com/MKpyS.jpg

PS: She was really beautiful.

Also: Fun to follow.

Tough Issues To Talk About

Friendship and love are tough. Both make you do stupid things and act against your better judgement. You can master a sad face only for so long, even if some issues don't get resolved. Which they should, you know, because if not they will become bigger like a rolling snow ball down a slope, gaining speed, which usually ends up in a mess with casualties. But we still do what we do. We hope something kicks sense into their head, something makes them understand why what happened happened, and in due time acknowledge it.

It is also tough to be stuck in between two people, and I understand that too, but it is only harder to keep your mouth shut about the other one if you are one of those at the ends. My personality does not allow me to say things that I should probably have told people long ago, but talking behind someone's back has never been of good manners to me, and I have a childish tendency to believe that good will win in the end. So far it didn't even help me move an inch, while I have been subjected to all the possible harm the other "end"'s talking has managed to inflict.

Being strong and a survivor is the toughest. You can't believe what people accomplish by simply breaking into sobs, with emotional introversion and frailness, imposing others' attention with puppy-eyed neediness. Whatever you say in this manner, true or fake, always grabs attention and leaves a mark on the listener's mind. We are weak, as humans, we cannot distinguish truth from lies presented to us in tears.

So if you happen to decide on staying strong, you falsely give the impression you had nothing to ever hurt you, nothing bad happened to you, surely you are the one who wronged the other, while this frail little other party was the victim of your tactless, self strength.

That's what people think and believe. In time they forget the details they knew, they forget the presence of the details they never knew.
They forget that nothing unites people better than a common enemy, someone to throw stones at, for their own to-be-perceived rightness.

They don't remember or believe any more that your dreams and hopes and the future you planned was taken from you, just because you survived it and made another future with the utmost emotional and physical efforts.

They think just because years passed and things have not been talked about and stayed out of sight, they lost their significance and the damage was gone.

It never really is ever like it was before, my friends, the sometimes too obvious and daily remnants of damage are still here, like a crumpled paper.. Even the strongest willed can try to straighten it out again but it will never be flat again.

So here I am, a straightened out, previously crumpled paper.

This time, I am straightening myself, slowly, but I am, not because of you, but because staying crumpled hurts me even more, makes my insides brittle every time it happens. I need a bit of tending to, a lot of healing, to open myself up again, try to flatten out. It is hard to manage by yourself, and the results lack a certain trust for the ones who didn't come to help un-crumple you.

Next time, I'm afraid I'll tear in your hands.

Blogger Ban Lifted in TR

I just read a month-old article on Sabah that the Office of Public Prosecutor of Diyarbakir has lifted the ban of our beloved Google Blogger in Turkey. Though, I couldn't find another consistent article in any of the international media. Still, I hope it is true and I hope this one sticks (unlike the 3-day lift of Youtube ban).

What not to expect might be what exactly to expect. Wait - what?

I have been thinking about expectations lately. They are only one level down from being as dangerous as hopes, and probably another step away from daydreams and wishes.

Yes we all have heard, and at some point in our lives believed, that without hope, we couldn't have survived the worst times. Hope keeps us alive. Although it might be true that positive thinking helps, I barely think it is the key for survival.

If anything, hope increases one's expectations. We all become a little delusional when there is hope. We think, just because we believed we deserved something, just because we thought we wanted it so genuinely and so much, it would come true.

I don't think it ever happens. On the contrary, if you believe that "things happen when you least expect", the more we hope the lesser the chance it will happen. And by proxy, the things that made us expect more out of a situation, actually has nothing to do with the outcome we had hoped for.

Let's simplify: Let's say there are only two possible outcomes, A or B. Initially, when you first realized the presence of these possibilities, you have no preference. Slowly you think into it and decide you'd like A to happen. It sounds better to you, it would make you happier, etc. Slowly you get invested in A happening. You start looking for "signs" for A. You use logic, reasoning, and a lot of heart-felt nonsense including gut feelings. You hope, or if you think you are more brain powered than heart powered, you "expect" A.

Expecting is hoping, only undressed from its flowery coat of emotions. Inside, they are the same. Whether you think you use your mind or your heart to get there is immaterial. In the core, under the dress, they are the same.

Then something unexpected happens.
In our simplified model, the unexpected is outcome B. Depending on the situation, you are surprised, bewildered, sad, or only momentarily disturbed. But in time, you get used to B. During that time, you realize you ignored all those other signs that pointed to B. If you weren't blind to them, as you are not currently, it would have been very easy for you to see that B was going to happen, not A. Oh how silly of you!

And, sad or content, time allows you to settle in B.
B has been happening now for so long, it becomes what you expect. Now your expectations have changed. Now what you expect is B. And for a while, it fits.

Then, just when you start "expecting" B, something unexpected happens, yes, again. By default, this would be A in our simple system of two outcomes.

In our simple system, this already completes the vicious circle. But it wouldn't be too different, really, if we had a bigger, more realistic model. Whenever one expects outcome n, something else, outcome (n+1) will happen.

How many times did you think you'd be done at work by 6 and left at 8 'coz something chaotic happened? How long did you want that cool phone or that awesome army knife or those gorgeous shoes before you bought and realized they failed their reputation in your hands? How many times did you think you were going to get the raise you deserve this time? Seriously, how many times did you find out that the girl / guy of your dreams actually had no clue you existed?

I'm not a pessimistic person, but it seems silly to expect anything at all at any given time. Nothing you think / reason / feel is gonna happen, will never happen anyway. So how did the behavior of expecting and hoping managed to be retained till our times through evolution? Well, one answer is, maybe we are masochistic creatures who actually enjoy to be presented with B when expecting A. Maybe, life would have been very boring otherwise and we would be bored to death, and the rest of the hopeless ones would also die of their misery, and none of us would be alive to our day. Maybe, our brains are created to be biased towards reasoning what we want, or maybe our brains are not evolved enough to decipher the signs without that bias. Regardless of what it is, here we are, with our hopes and expectations from life.

I give up though. I am a little too exhausted to deal with facing outcome n+1. I decide, from today on, not to expect anything. Just go as it is, do not try to interpret signs, which generally come in the form of other people's behaviors, which, they themselve don't even know why they do!

We frequently forget how little we know about everything and anything. If we did remember, we would never be fool enough to expect anything.

A Weekend to Study

This weekend has been a busy one. I have a final on Monday, so I have been mostly studying. I was also tired after a very chaotic week, and I had to stop by work as well. It has been tiring, and, busy.

I like studying in coffeeshops. I can never get any work done at home, since I am a talented procrastinator and professional napper, so I have to drag myself out to study. I used to go to the library, but it is generally very boring and full of people who whisper into the dead of silence - very annoying. Since back when I was a full time student, I used to study at Espresso Royale at State and Main Streets, and at Sweetwaters downtown and in Kerrytown. There is something about a coffee shop that's very attractive and pleasant. The background music mixing with the noise from each table, somehow still peaceful enough.. And if you're lucky enough to be close to the windows you can take your head off of what you're doing every now and then and look outside, to the street, people walking by, enjoying the sun or running to their cars in the rain.

Watching small street life is a fun pastime of mine. You can see a lot of things that make you smile, you know, those little things..
Once I was waiting at the airport for my friend to pick me up, and there was this older man, in a neatly tucked-in shirt and jeans, walking towards a middle aged, kind of chubby but good looking woman, with a huge smile on his face. The woman was pulling a small rolling luggage. Waiting outside and enjoying the fresh air, I expected to see another hurried greeting and rushing into a car from this couple. Everyone was always in such a hurry, which is understandable, but also a little soulless. People usually get out of their cars, take a bag from the hands of the people they're picking up, no words spoken, no hugs no welcomes, get back in the car and drive off. But this couple... They met right in front of me, a few feet away, and I blushed when I saw them hug and put small kisses on each other's faces. They stood there for a little while, man's hand resting on the woman's back and the woman holding his shoulder lightly, and talked for a while. Only then the man took the luggage and they moved towards a parked car, talking and laughing. I don't remember what I heard them talk, but I got the impression that they were married for a long time and it wasn't the first time they spent time away from each other. In the midst of all that rush, there was me, standing with a cigarette in my hand, and there was this older couple, that resisted the hurried motions of an airport. It was wonderful.

But I digress, as usual.

So this weekend, I decided on Sweetwaters downtown to spend my evenings studying. Packing my Macbook and books and notes, I occupied a high top next to the windows (my favorite) both Saturday and Sunday evenings. Having worked in the serving business, I also made sure I bought a coffee or a scone every now and then. But mostly, I took notes and looked outside when bored, enjoying the bits of weekend I had.

Yes, I like Ann Arbor. My brother makes fun of me for that. So yes, I might be spending too much time in some neighborhoods than others. After years, you get to know a person or two in those places. Never hurts anybody, right?

On Saturday, I sit my face looking towards inside the cafe. This one guy, sits at the next table, facing me. Normally no one notices things like this, in the many hours I spent there, a lot of people occupied that table. But this guy, keeps staring at me and makes me very uncomfortable. I turn sideways and try not to think about it.

Today, Sunday, I go back and settle down in another high top. It happens to be the one closest to the outlet on the wall many tables use to plug their laptops in. So a lot of people come, use the plug, some say sorry some don't, you know, regular coffee shop interactions. Then, about an hour - hour an a half from closing time, this same guy, comes to me and asks me if I would mind if he shared the plug. I make sure I'm not friendly at all to encourage any other conversation other than a polite "sure", thinking he will leave his laptop on charge, or pull the cord, like many other people, to his table. He had been there for a while now, he must have been sitting somewhere, right? But he gets comfortable and squeezes himself on my table.

Now. I never mind sharing a table with anybody. I actually think it is a waste of space if you don't. But if you freaked me and made me uncomfortable the day before, in a very obvious way, you have some guts coming to my table today. And surely you are going to get a not-so-friendly reaction from me. Especially if you keep staring at me while making yourself brazenly comfortable at my table.

I make sure he understands I am uncomfortable, and try to focus. A friend calls. I tell him I'm studying at a cafe. I'm looking out of the window, away from the guy at the table, during the phone call. My friend asks me if I'm alone, and I reply by saying none of my friends are with me. As soon as I say this, I see my table-mate's reflection on the glass, his hands rising up in the air and he goes, loudly: "Whaaaat?? I don't count???" Awesome.

I turn to him while still holding the phone to my ear, and give him the worst possible look I can manage.

Now I don't think he was dangerous or anything. I saw him talking to a few people in there, so he must be somewhat of a regular as well, and probably this was his way of trying to "be friends". Yeah... no.

After I put the phone down, I ask him to move if there is an available table around. It's late and it's not crowded inside. He says that was his plan all along, and mumbles something about me seeming friendly or him trying to be friendly - I couldn't catch that one. I was trying to count backwards from 10 to hold my annoyance under control.

Soon he leaves and I can concentrate back to my studying.

It's a bit funny, though, because, although I enjoy observing other people, they are the people outside, whom I believe I can't offend by watching as they pass by. I never notice what's going on inside the cafe because I find it rude to stare at people too much who you share space with for some time. So I had no idea if there were people who came in and saw me sitting there for hours two nights in a row. But apparently someone has.

The coffee shop closes and I pack my stuff and get out, cross the street to the side where my car is parked, in front of my regular bar. Two random guys are standing outside the door, a few feet away from my car, and as I open my door, one of them says: "So, did you get all your studying done??" I look up, I don't know either of them. I am near-sighted, so I had to make sure, but no, I don't recognize his voice either. An unsure, reluctant "yeees...??" comes out of my mouth, thinking, maybe they just saw me at the coffeeshop for two days, and maybe at the bar sometimes as well. The guys seem to enjoy my weirding out, so while I'm trying to get into my car, the same guy continues: "Ready for your quiz??" Another unsure, reluctant "yes" on my part is responded with wishes of good luck and a wave from the two men, and I get into my car and drive away. I must admit I was a little like a deer in headlights. If it wasn't my regular bar we were in front of, I would not even have cared enough to notice or reply. But there, I didn't know what to do.

So while I'm driving home, I'm thinking: Maybe I do spend too much time around the same neighborhood in AA. Maybe I should have gone to another coffee shop after Saturday. Maybe I should have left the table and the coffee shop altogether when the weird guy showed up.

But then again, how big is AA, for anonymity, for anyone who has lived here long enough? Plus, I'm sorry but, I do like that neighborhood. I'm not going to let other people dictate where I can spend my time! It's not like this is the first time I spent long times at the same place. When I was a full time student I used to inhabit some of these coffee shops, hours at a time, many days a week. The same places I go to now. Heck - I almost lived in one for a week when I was back in AA after a long summer away, trying to get back into school, looking for a place to rent. Even after graduating, I used to meet at this very coffee shop with my then boyfriend after work (I used to work at a restaurant across the street) several times a week; he would study and I would keep him company reading books. And, it's not like I'm the only person ever to spend hours in a cafe studying! Certainly not the only person in AA who leaves a coffee shop with books in her arms during the week of finals.

So, I decide, I don't care if I spend too much time in the same places. I do so because I like these places. And if someone has to tease me for that, they'll be my friends, not strangers. If a stranger does that again, I'll have a different attitude next time for sure!

Goodbye Borders Arborland

Today I went to the Borders in Arborland. I've known for quite a while that, after years of struggling and finally filing for bankruptcy protection in February, about 200 stores would be closing down. It is very sad, as a self-proclaimed Ann Arborite, to see a bookstore chain that sprouted in Ann Arbor go down. I wasn't expecting, but I was not surprised either, when I heard that Arborland store was one of those 200.

I resisted going and salvaging for the deals in the store close down for a long time.

I love bookstores. Even in the "chain" era for everything, the smell of books, the weight of them in my hand, makes me feel like a school girl again. Yes I am one of those who reads - a lot. I am far off from being a literary pro though, I admit I've read and still read a lot of, what you would call, beach novels. Nonetheless, one thing that remained with me over the years is the joy I feel when I spend hours reading, finding myself smiling while doing so. Many times I cried, too.

Book stores.. Libraries.. Small local book shops.. They all have a part in my heart. Something about shelves of books, I don't know what it is, but it makes me feel cozy and happy. One of the things I remember about the house I was born to is the living room and shelves and shelves of books. Both my parents are more than well read, but my father especially loved books. I inherited his love of books. It was a great pride for me to have my own shelves stuffed with books in my own room. When I visited places, bookstores and old passages filled with second hand bookshops would be the first places I would go. I know it is not exactly logical to keep books. After all, they live on your walls for years without you touching them. Rarely we read a book twice. But something about them, just being there, is so comforting.

Last summer, I helped my dad, after some serious determination on his part, go through thousands of books we had at home, select only a few to keep and give the rest to a house with children. It was a very emotional experience, especially for him. But he soldiered through it and we packed about 15 boxes full with books to give away. If it was me I would still have kept at least half of them. We spent a day going through them, and he touched every one of those books, I'm sure every one brought back memories. A few of those memories he shared with me while having a cup of coffee in our breaks. I was very sad for him, I know it was too hard to let go of those books. Some of them he had had for more than 30-40 years. I tried to tell him that he didn't need to get rid of all of them, but apart from the few that he kept, he packed all the rest. He said, if he can't do it today, he will never do it. And today was the day to let go.

I got rid of many of my books as well. I do not keep a lot at my parents' home any more. After living away for 10 years, now I have a few books and two canvas boxes: one has few stuffed animals I want to keep for the sake of my childhood, and one with other sentimental stuff: letters, old glasses, yearbooks etc. Still, the books I parted with were not even close to being as important to me as the ones in those 15 boxes to my father.

Now, in my own apartment, I only have a select few. I try to get rid of most, and I try to avoid buying. For a girl whose recent past and very likely future involves a lot of moving, it is not such a great investment, and books are not cheap either. One way of keeping myself checked is to visit Aunt Agatha's now and then. It is a local mystery book shop, very old school, books not in real order of anything, mostly second hand, crowded tightly in shelves. They hold book club meetings there too, I once walked in while they were discussing a book. Several young and old Ann Arborites, sitting in a U shape around the shelves in the middle of the shop. It made me smile. I also like that shop not only because it is local, but also because Agatha Christi was an early love of mine when I was a kid. When I was emptying my shelves last summer along with my dad, I got rid of more than 30 books, easily, of hers. All were second hand, and read with love, by many until me, then by me. And I am sure they will be read by many after me.

I am also trying to adapt to the new age of "reading" on mobile devices that are lighter than one single book but can carry thousands in it. It is not the same though. I can never trade the feeling of holding a real book in my hands to an e-reader or worse, an audiobook. I think they have their uses, but they can never ever replace books.

So today I was in Arborland to finally buy a new pair of Chuck Taylors. The two pairs I have been wearing for 8-9 years have no soles left. One pair I left at home with strict orders to my mom to dispose of it, knowing I wouldn't do it myself if I took them back with me. And procrastinating for years to replace the last pair, a couple of weeks ago I wore them two days in a row which left my feet in need of some TLC. So today I drove to DSW with my $20 coupon to get another pair.

On my way out, I eyed the huge "Closing" banner over borders. I have refused to go in there so far. Today I felt it was time.

Everything was gone. Every installment was on sale, along with the books and CDs and DVDs and everything else. Even the syrup containers they used in the coffee shop were being sold, for 50 cents each. It was so sad.

There was no order. Instead, there were empty shelves and big signs of sales. It still felt like a bookstore though. I find it a lovely feature of some book shops to have no order, for example. It is one of those isolating and cold features of being a chain bookstore to have too much order and too much attention to displays. I like it when it is a little chaotic. You find unexpected bits of love hidden in unexpected shelves within that chaos sometimes.

I walked around a little. I was looking for a Maeve Binchy book, one of my favorite authors to date, so maybe I could buy it a little cheaper. Of course, most books were gone, including the one I was looking for. But I felt like staying. I wandered around a little bit more. I looked at books, and at the people.. And I felt so sad. I genuinely felt so sad to see a bookstore closing. Especially one that is, although a chain, still local. One that I came to many many times and spent hours in. Tears almost showed up in my eyes. I'm sure people thought I was crazy. When I was paying, when the cashier asked me how I was, I couldn't help but say "I'm sad." He looked at me weirdly. I noticed none of the people that worked there, whom I have seen many times, looked sad. That made me even sadder. I kept repeating myself, saying how sad it was to see this store closing, and the cashier did not even respond to me.

Before leaving the store, I stood by the doors for a few more minutes. I wondered what this store would be next. I looked inside the store, to the back where all the shelves were empty.. I felt empty. I wished the store farewell and left.

I knew I was going to write this blog while I was standing in front of the doors, with my last purchase from Borders in Arborland in my arms. I rescued a two-novel copy of Charles Dickens' A Tale of Two Cities and Great Expectations, as well as a fairly expensive audiobook, although it was 50% off, called Bad Things Happen by Harry Dolan, which I totally got suckered into simply because it was set in Ann Arbor. And the icing on the cake was when I saw the whole seven season package of the Golden Girls while paying, sitting at the lower back shelf, 50% off.

Farewell Borders Arborland. I had many pleasant hours spent under your roof. And I wish Borders, after 40 years of being Borders, the best of luck to get back on its feet.

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

Recently I have been accused of making too big of a deal out of recycling. I wanted to turn this into an opportunity to give you some facts about what my cause as a team member at work as well as a human being is.

• The U.S. recycles approximately 32 percent of its waste which saves an equivalent amount of greenhouse gases to removing 39,618 cars from the road. 
• Increasing the recycling rate to 35 percent would reduce greenhouse gas emissions by an additional 5.2 Million Metric Tons of Carbon Dioxide Equivalent.
• Net carbon emissions are four to five times lower when materials are produced from recycled steel, copper, glass, and paper. They are 40 times lower for aluminum.
• Just one person recycling their newspaper, magazines, plastic, glass, and metal for one year is enough to save 471 pounds of carbon dioxide from going into the atmosphere. One person does matter.
• Overall recycling rate for Michigan is a sad 20%, falling after years of being country's leader in recycling. Thanks to the high deposit campaign, can and bottle recycling rate once was almost 100%. Due to budget cuts in the recent years affected recycling programs statewide, we are facing a fall in recycling. 
• Apart from the obvious benefits, recycling also creates more jobs than disposal does, uses less energy than mining, harvesting, importing and otherwise processing raw materials, and creates less greenhouse gas than landfilling does.
• In a recent Adopt-a-Highway event, volunteers combed a 46-mile stretch of country roads in Kent county. It was sorted and weighed. It included:
• 514.1 pounds of newspapers, magazines, paper, plastic and fast food wrappers/containers
• 227.7 pounds of carpet, clothing, furniture and building materials
• 204.2 pounds of auto parts
• 34.8 pounds of beverage containers covered by the bottle deposit law
• 29.4 pounds of water, tea and juice containers
• 23.6 pounds of milk, liquor and wine containers

Imagine.

My cause is not recycling. My cause is, being as environmentally friendly as I can be, in balance with a normal lifestyle. Recycling is only a means. It is actually the 3rd and last R of being green. We first Reduce, then if possible Reuse, and Recycle.

Being environmentally friendly does not mean you need to fit into the hipster stereotype of only wearing cotton, belonging to a food-coop, composting your waste, always riding a bike or a hybrid car, or being politically active about it (although none of these hurt)... It is just doing what we can. And I believe we are all capable of caring and helping our homes and workplaces be environmentally conscious. The least we can do in our workplace is reusing and recycling paper products.

Buzz...

The weather mellows slightly in Ann Arbor accompanied by mild winds now and then. And if you live in an apartment complex that uses central heating and does not care much about the general maintenance of things, you know that this is the time of the year when newly emerging bugs, searching for a warm place and aided by the wind,  start crawling into your apartment.

I remember, in my old apartment complex, I woke up in the middle of the night to drink some water. Only half awake and not being able to open my eyes fully, I turned on the lamp on my night stand. This huge thing started buzzing loudly a millisecond later. I was so scared, I didn't know what it was, and it was so huge, trapped in the shade of my night lamp, I couldn't stay at home and left home until the morning, crashed at my neighbor's place. When I came home, there was no sign of the huge disgusting bug. False hope. The "thing" came back at night, hitting on windows and lamps, buzzing loudly, falling and flying. Finally I could catch a glimpse of it, it was just a fly. AS BIG AS MY THUMB! Eew. I finally got rid of it but it was very gross, I'm going to spare you the details.

A few nights ago, I woke up again in the middle of the night, this time to the familiar sound of buzzing. Another bug is trying to get out to the light through the closed window. First I thought it was trapped between the insulation wrap and the window. So I didn't care and tried to go back to sleep. Then I saw my 11 year old cat, watching it carefully, whiskers all alarmed. I let her entertain herself and slept.

This parade continued another couple of nights. The stupid bug, although not trapped, failed to get out of my bedroom. On the third day, my cat watched, watched, watched... and SMACK! the bug is down at the window sill. Another paw and it is now on the floor. It tries to buzz and fly away, but all it is capable of doing is jumping around. So my cat plays with it for a while, before chowing it down.

Watching her through the action, I decide I won't be kissing her cute little nose anytime soon.

After only a couple of days, now she is playing with another little bugger buzzer on the window. Who knew my 11 year old indoors kitty had an inner hunterress. At least I'm luckier than Simon: