Today I might eat the eraser off my pencil.
I'll look at clouds.
I'll be late,
I don't think I'll wash.

I need a rest.

Here's something I've learned from having spent ten years in a foreign country: it's easy to judge others.

One would think I could have had this lesson in my home country. Or that it should have nothing to do with countries at all. And one would be right. Being judgmental seems to be human nature. It's our way of vocalizing something that we don't approve. It's our way of criticizing and speaking up. All of which is within one's right, or it should be. Each person is entitled to his or her own opinion on all matters. The fact that it's your opinion means it's yours and no one can tell you otherwise.

So I've been working hard at reminding myself that when people criticize my choices, my actions, my thoughts, my feelings and my country, they have a right to feel or think the way they do. What bothers me, however, is the quickness with which people judge. Most people I know never bother to learn all sides of a matter and never care to listen to an opposing view.

If a person wants to upgrade a thought from opinion to declaration or even something that they believe is worth discussing, I think it's crucial for that person to have completed the appropriate research. I could come to you and say, "I think three-year-old boys are stupider than three-year-old girls." And if you have any interest in discussing this subject matter with me (which might be debatable after you hear the biased and ignorant way in which I worded my claim) you'd ask me what my sources are. Where is my data? How exactly do I define "stupid"? What is the pool of three-year-olds I have researched? Was this a controlled experiment? For my statement to be anything more than something I pulled out of thin air, I must have some examples and data to back it up.

The same goes for history. It's easy for someone to have opinions on who did wrong when it comes to some of the world's major historical blunders. But even with 20/20 hindsight, it's nearly impossible to prove that one's opinion is more valid than another's. It's easy for you to sit in your chair and say that a country that's oceans away from your living room should do such-and-such to put a stop to the terrible situation over there. Yet, who are we to say exactly what's going on?

I'm always amazed at the way people react when they find out that I'm Turkish. Over the ten years, I've heard just about anything and everything. How this was our fault and that was our fault, etc. Not that I'm disagreeing about anything specific but I really do doubt that most of these people know anything about Turkey besides the few lines they've read in their history books or heard from another opinioned source. At least I'm honest enough to admit that my education and exposure was biased and that I don't know all the facts. I don't know the situation and such I am not really willing to pass judgement.

While I completely agree that taking any human's life is an awful act and we shouldn't be killing people, especially as aimlessly as it appears to be lately, I also understand how complicated the world is and how near impossible it is to place blame. It's never one person's fault. Often times, there are deep-rooted problems that require years and years of work to reach a possible resolution. And maybe I am naive, but I do believe that people don't enjoy killing others. Even the most evil-seeming ones do it out of a corrupt or confused sense of justice, but not for the sake of senseless murder. Not that it makes it excusable. It just allows me to keep my sense of faith in the world, I suppose.

I love America. To me it's the homeland I never had. I feel like it's where I was meant to live all along. And I also love Turkey; it's a crucial part of my identity, one that I have always been proud to vocalize. And when I hear people criticize either nation, I feel protective urges rise within me. I feel like telling people that they are unappreciative and bitter. But then I listen. In case they have something valuable to say. To hear the meat behind their opinions. To see if they've done their research. To find out if it's anything besides judgmental banter.

So that I can learn.

Previously? Shedding.

I've realized that, like many others around me, I'm a victim of 'limited point of view.'

I remember years of torturous childhood experiences and pain just to be able to hang out with the group of people I was initially thrust in. My parents' friends' children. These people, purposefully or not, made me feel worthless on a regular basis. They made fun of my looks, my habits, my opinions, my preferences. Just about everything. They hurt me so much and so to the core that I can recite most of their words even today. I can even tell you exactly where those words were uttered. But I couldn't even perceive the idea of not hanging out with them. I had no other friends. If I stopped trying to fit in this group, I'd be completely alone. It felt as if I had absolutely no other choice.

A few years later, an opportunity presented itself and I was able to find a new group of friends more accepting and rewarding that the previous, which helped me regain some of my long lost sense of self and allowed me to find even more appropriate friends. The hardest part was straying from the initial path.

Looking back, it's easy for me to say that I should have left even sooner, I should have made friends of my own. But the fact is, at the time, my limited point of view did not allow for that possibility. It's hard to seek something that doesn't even cross your mind, or something that's clearly not an option for you.

The same thing happened when I graduated from college. Having wanted to study computers since I was ten, I immediately found a job as a programmer and got on the path to 'success.' In the first few years I had a lot of tough times. Worked many weekends and late late nights, dealt with irresponsible and immature bosses, took a lot of the stress home with me. There were many times I spent hours crying from frustration and loss of hope. Even though my family and loved ones told me to quit, I never considered it to be an option. I didn't really see a way out.

It sounds stupid now, but it truly was a lack of point of view at the time. I was so locked in my path that it seemed unthinkable to waver. It took a long time for me to come to terms with my unhappiness and I had to get really miserable before I started taking initiative. And literally within the week I moved into my new job, I wondered what took me so long. I realized that it was easily possible for me to be happy at a job and that I was insane for having suffered as long as I did in my previous one.

Hindsight is always 20/20.

I am now standing at another crossroads in my life. Another case where I am struggling to look at my life from another point of view. Giving up a lucrative job and one that appears successful and amazing to others. A job that I enjoy. This time it's for a bigger cause. This time I don't know if things will work out. I'm feeling the same anxiety I've felt before. The fear of leaving the comforts of my chosen path. I'm struggling to let it not get to me.

I'm trying to stand on my table and look at it from a different point of view.

Previously? Shortchanged.

Jake and I saw startup.com last week. The movie follows the conception, rise and fall of an internet startup. Govworks is the name of the firm that the documentary follows. At one point in the movie, the main character, the CEO of the company, mentions how their idea is for the good of the people. How the reason they exist is to help people. It's not his exact words, it might not even be the exact logic behind his words, but the words made me wonder about the plausibility of for-profit companies that exist for the good of humanity. All these words just to ask:

Is it possible for a profit company to have the public's interest at heart?

The idea behind serving the public interest is finding an area where there is a need for help. Building houses. Teaching in inner-city schools. Providing service for the deaf. Giving shelter to the needy. Running a soup kitchen. The idea is to try to make the world a better place. The idea is to wake up each morning and be able to look yourself in the mirror. Working for the public interest is an unselfish act.

A for-profit company's ultimate goal is to make money. Regardless of the specific purpose and details of the company, a for-profit is inherently trying to accumulate profit. The profits are not to be donated to the public. In most cases, they are so that the company can do well in an IPO. And then they are so that the company's shares stay high. And then they are so the partners can be wealthy. Making money for oneself is a selfish act. Not selfish in the 'you're such a selfish pig' sense but in the 'you're putting yourself first' sense.

Can the selfish world of for profit companies mesh with the non-selfish cause of doing good for the public? It seems to me that a for-profit firm, when push comes to shove, would have to do what's right for the business. Take the alternative that might bring in more money. Even at the cost of forgoing human interest. Which makes me think that for-profit and human interest cannot go together.

Initially, when I thought about companies working for human interest, I could only think of non-profit agencies or organizations. Then I started thinking of professions. Doctors. Teachers. Government workers. Both doctors and teachers have a wide range. There are doctors that charge an arm and a leg. There are private tutors who do the same. And yet, many doctors and teachers make so little that tons of people choose not to go into the profession for that very reason. The question of whether teachers should get paid a lot is an involved one and deserves another entry for another day.

It's been a few days and at the back of my mind, I'm still pondering whether the coupling of working for human interest and running a for-profit firm is one of lifelong happiness or one bound to result in divorce.

Any ideas?

Previously? Obligations.

There's a discussion at metafilter about growing up, prompted by this.

In the last five years or so, I've spent a lot of time wondering what qualifies someone as a grownup, or more personally, when I would qualify as one. Looking at the comments at metafilter, there seem to be a few common themes: a parent's death, having a full-time job, buying a house, getting a divorce. It appears the definition of grown-up changes from person to person. Some people associate it with earning a living on one's own while others relate it to coping with an emotional event.

Each time I cross a major milestone in my life, I wonder if I'm mature enough to be there. Moving to another continent, earning a high salary, paying a hefty rent, getting married. Each of them, an event associated with being a grownup. Am I really mature enough to get married? Am I mature enough to be a teacher?

I spent most of my childhood being too old for my age. A teenager who didn't drink, smoke, or do drugs is pretty boring. I picked books over dress-up. I had goals. I had to work hard to achieve them. At seventeen, I left my home and my family to go miles and miles away. I figured I was old enough.

Not really.

Over the years, I learned that being mature is not a line one crosses. It's not like there's a day before which you're a child and after which you're a grownup. There are events that occur in our lives that force us to act mature and take responsibility, often sooner than we wished. And then there are events for which the time feels right so we take the leap, like marriage and children. I don't believe anyone's ready to have children. It just feels right and we feel like we're in a healthy, stable situation and that we can provide for a child.

And then there are the situations that cause every person to act below their age. A few too many glasses of wine. Hanging out with a kid. Watching a football game. Playing video games. Besides these common cases, each person has a unique series of situations that will reduce that person to a child.

I've come to terms with the fact that getting older will always feel weird to me. Getting married like my parents and working as a teacher both sound odd when uttered to someone else but feel comfortable and right when I don't think much about it. I don't think it matters much when one officially stops being an adolescent. Putting a number on it guarantees that there will be people within the range who feel unfairly treated like a child, and a set of people who fall outside the range but yet act like adolescents.

Life is not about keeping track or fitting in a category. It's about learning to deal with things as they come and taking responsibility. It's also about maximizing the level of fun, no matter how childish, as long as it's not at the expense of others.

The rest simply doesn't matter.

Previously? Looking Forward.

Can you change who you are?

At first thought, my instinct is to say, "yes." One part will, two parts determination and mix thoroughly.

Over nine years ago, I moved to the United States. I remember the day I got accepted to Carnegie Mellon University as if it happened this morning. The telegram, the flowers and the tears. I'd wanted to come to America since my early teens and getting into CMU had been a long and strenuous journey.

I remember thinking that this was my one chance to change. To start over. No one knew me in the US, no one had grown up with the geeky Karen who wore glasses as thick as a coke-bottle bottom. No one knew my weaknesses, no one could use my past to make fun of me. It was the perfect opportunity to have a personal makeover. I was determined to change myself.

Week one came and I was cool. I made some new friends, I laughed at the right times, I wore the right things and I didn't say anything too embarrassing. I don't mean to imply that I was at the center of the in-crowd or anything, but I did manage not to screw up anything major. So it was possible to change oneself, after all.

Not exactly.

It took a few weeks or so, but eventually I made my way back to the original Karen. The one with the same set of flaws, the collection of not-so-cute quirks and the same baggage. The new Karen was just a role, and one can only act for so long. The new skin we create becomes uncomfortable. It's too tight or too loose. It just doesn't feel right.

Over the years, I've had a few opportunities to start over. The move to Pittsburgh, a new boyfriend, and then another, a move to New York City and a new job. Each presented me with the same titillating need to create a new Karen and every single time, I crawled right back into the familiar one.

So is it impossible to change oneself?

I think that when we make a conscious effort, it's extremely difficult to change who we are. And yet, I also think that we change continuously. Each day of our lives small things happen. These tiny, insignificant bits change us in miniscule ways. Sometimes huge things occur and our personality takes leaps. But often times, these are not premeditated. So much so that even we might not notice that we changed until the right opportunity presents itself. Not only is it possible to change oneself, but we are continuously in the process of changing ourselves.

The trick is not to force it. To let nature take its own course. To recognize that the very first step to changing oneself is accepting oneself.

Previously? 'Tis the Season .

Life offers us different opportunities at different times.

I mean we have a series of opportunities that are in front of us everyday but, once in a while, something major comes up. An opportunity that someone else or some other situation made available for you. Something completely unexpected. Something that, if it worked for you, would make you leap and not just take another step towards your goal. Every now and then, such an opportunity emerges and if you don't take notice, it slips right by you.

And here's what I think: You should never let an opportunity like that slip by.

And I don't mean you should seize it either. Sometimes, even if the opportunity comes your way, it might not be the best thing for you. Let's say you're offered a trip to the destination of your dreams. Since this is my site, we'll say that place is Antarctica. Someone comes up to me tomorrow and tells me that I can go to Antarctica in January. All expenses paid, a month-long trip where I get to pet penguins. After jumping up and down for several hours, I think it would be a good idea for me to have a serious think about it.

Every opportunity comes at a cost. This Antarctica offer would mean that I need to quit my job or at least take an unpaid leave. It could mean I would have to leave Jake for a month. And there may be many other downsides to this otherwise amazing-seeming offer. So I'm not saying that jumping on it is the best move.

What I am saying is that it's crucial to consider it. A major opportunity like that doesn't come often and if you let one pass you by, there's no guarantee it will come your way again. At least not soon. So instead of saying how what a bummer it is that I got the chance to go to Antarctica but couldn't do it, if I sat down and had a serious think about it, I might not regret it.

If I considered all sides of the matter, then regardless of the decision I make, I know that I didn't let the opportunity go unnoticed. I know that no matter how the outcome turns out, at the time, I thought I was making the right decision. In the end, even if I made the wrong decision, I still think that's better than not making one.

I guess it's all about control. When you let things pass you by, you're giving up the chance to control your destiny.( isn't that an oxymoron, 'controlling your destiny.') It's true that if things don't work out, you can say "I didn't choose to do this, the decision was made for me." but is that how you want to live your life? Isn't there a point after which we need to get on the driver's seat and say "This is my life and it's short and I am here to make it the most it can be."

We all get one life to live, at least one that we remember at any point in time, and don't you want to be holding the reins to your life?

Previously? Tracking Happiness.

A friend of my mother's sent me a presentation on using one's time wisely. The presentation was okay and had some interesting points, and some obvious ones. About twenty slides into the show, a question caught my attention.

If you had two extra hours every day, what would you do with them?

My first instinct was, "I'd write my novel." I've been trying to write this novel for the last year and it's definitely not progressing as quickly as I would like it to. Having left the other one incomplete, I'm scared this book will face the same fate and I really don't want it to.

But then I realized that I put off writing my novel cause it's so hard. It requires a lot of my energy to get it all on paper and I tend to put it off until the last minute, so if I had an extra two hours everyday, I doubt I'd actually spend them on my novel.

My next answer was "I'd read." Another bottomless pit. No matter how much I read, there are always more books to read and I continuously wish for more time. I have a minimum of eight books checked out from the library at any one time and I simply cannot go through them fast enough. Reading was definitely a valid choice for me.

The more I thought about the question, the more I wondered the answers. I wondered what I did with the twenty-four hours I get each day. Don't get me wrong, I maximize my time a lot. In a week, I manage to volunteer in two places, work in an investment bank, take six classes, read two books, write my novel and at least another essay or short story, see a movie, watch twenty hours of TV, write my site at least five times, and sleep a minimum of eight hours. I am not worried that I'm not getting enough done, I'm just curious how many hours of my day each task takes. And if I had two more hours, what would be the best task for me to do?

Hang out with friends more, I think. Most of my friends are just as busy as I am and we rarely seem to see each other as often as we say we want to. If we all had two extra hours, maybe it'd be easier to find the time to meet.

I guess I'm better at making a list of things I wouldn't do with the extra hours. I wouldn't work or sleep. I wouldn't sit on the couch and watch TV. I wouldn't exercise.

The question of what I would do is hard to answer cause I like to do so many things and my list of to-dos never ends. Actually, it never even goes below fifteen items. So another two hours would maybe allow me to keep my list at thirteen items or eleven if I wanted to be optimistic. Which shows me that I am bad at this as I would not appreciate the two added hours as much as I should.

I wonder how many hours would have to be added before I just can't think of anything more to do. Since I adore reading, I venture to say that the answer would be infinite. There aren't enough hours you can add to my day.

I think that says a lot of not so great things about me or my lifestyle, but for now, I am choosing not to concentrate on that too much. Instead, I'm going to go and use the next three hours of my day on a dinner and a movie.

What would you do with an extra two hours each day?

Previously? Normal.

Is "healthy competition" an oxymoron?

A movie I watched today, made me wonder about the negative effects of competition. By definition, a competition has winners and losers. One winner and many losers. That means one person feels great and many people feel lousy.

So what's the point?

How come competition is so encouraged? How come we glorify winning? How come kids are singled out by the teachers and coaches as special? How is this constructive?

I imagine that people who approve of competition may say that the drive to win encourages you to improve yourself. While on the surface that may appear to be the case, the reality of the situation differs greatly. If Joe is a star football player and Moe is the second-best, Moe doesn't really care to be a better player, he just cares to outperform Joe so that he can be the star. It's no longer about the game, it's about Joe. About beating Joe. If Joe were to suddenly transfer to another school, Moe no longer cares to improve his game because he has no one to worry about. I agree that if Joe and Moe are in the same school, Moe might improve his game, but I think we undermine the importance of the underlying motive.

I truly believe in the saying "No man is an island." We don't live alone and the world is not a race. It's a society, a community and it needs harmony, not competition.

Imagine you're an amazing baseball player. One of a kind. In a team, you're most definitely the star. Now imagine, no team member will play with you. Maybe you're really cocky, or just an ass, or maybe you show off too much. Whatever the reason may be, others will not play with you. Suddenly, your talent is not so useful. Since baseball is a team game, and no one will play with you, you're unable to play. So obviously, the world is not your mountain.

Yet the schools encourage competition even at an early age. Spelling bees, assembly awards. So do sports. What's the purpose of competitive sports at a young age? At an age where the kids cannot understand the difference between "just getting the other guy out of the picture" and "being the best I can be." What's the value in making a seven year old feel like a loser? Singling a kid out. Causing the children to view their classmates as people they have to beat to get ahead.

Yet the world often operates because everyone plays his part. We learn to work with others to deliver big projects, ones we couldn't have completed on our own. We team up with other people who have similar interests or beliefs to start organizations. Almost every major change in the world is the result of a team, not one person.

So why not encourage teamwork instead?

Previously? Blank Slate.

I believe in making mistakes.

I know that in the overall scheme of life mistakes are meant to be bad. They lead us to failure and who wants to fail?

But that's not entirely true, similar to yesterday's point, the importance of learning firsthand also applies to making mistakes.

Let's say you didn't want to learn firsthand, how could you avoid making mistakes? Well, by listening to other people of course! With that approach, you're making two fundamental assumptions:

One. What they consider to be a mistake in their environment and circumstances is also going to be a mistake in yours.

Two. Repeating the actions that led them to their mistake will result in your facing the same mistake.

I believe that both of these have cases where they become incorrect assumptions.

Let's take the first case. Decisions and choices are extremely environment-based. Divorcing an abusive partner may be considered a huge mistake in some societies and the correct path in others. Same goes for abortion and many other controversial issues. Dropping out of school to help save your family's financial situation might seem shortsighted to some people but might lead you to go through doors that would not have been available to you in some societies because in yours family values are extremely highly regarded. What I consider to be a stupid move might be an act of genius for you.

On a related note, just because you do the same thing I did doesn't mean you will reach the same results I did. We could both cut school and go to the movies and while I get caught and end up getting detention, you might end up meeting someone who changes your life in that movie theater. (okay, it's not likely but it could happen) A lot of our life depends on people or events outside our control. The likeliness of a certain set of actions resulting in the same exact outcome is very low.

Even if we ignored the above points. I still think there's much to be said for making your own mistakes and learning from them. When you make a mistake, depending on the significance of that mistake, it stays in your mind for quite a long period of time. You don't need someone to explain to you why it's a bad idea, you lived through it and you learned. Even when the same actions result in a mistake, there might be different reasons why it was a mistake for you than why it was a mistake for the other person. And it's important to know the difference.

When we make mistakes, we learn about ourselves more than anything else. Yes, we learn about our environment, too, but we learn so much more about our logic. Our assumptions. Our ignorance. Our unrealistic expectations. Our naive outlook. We try to sit and pinpoint where exactly things went wrong. At what point did the great idea turn into a disaster?

That's not something any other human being can teach you.

Previously? Show Me.

Forever didn't use to be a scary thought to me.

I was the sort of person who made long-term decisions and stuck to them. I decided to come to the United States for college at the age of twelve. I chose computers as my main field at seven. Those goals never changed. I came here; I studied information systems. I got a programming job.

The same pattern applied to my relationships. I hung on regardless of how bad situations got. An abusive boyfriend. A cruel best friend. But I was in it for the long run, I knew how to stick around. I didn't do things on a whim.

I was Ms. Consistent.

Deep down, I always resented myself for not being daring or impromptu enough. I secretly wished to do something crazy, like get a tattoo or pierce my tongue. But I never had the courage.

Today, I was chatting with Daphna about how I don't like tattoo's anymore and it got me thinking. Why had I changed my mind?

And I realized that getting a tattoo wasn't necessarily an out-of-character thing for a person like me. Whether the receiver is aware of it at the time or not, a tattoo is a permanent commitment. It's quite difficult to remove and even then leaves a scar. It's not temporary.

It seems I've decided to put permanence on hold for a while.

Temporary sounds more attractive for now. Not temporary in the sense of "this week" but temporary in the sense of "it's okay if you change your mind ten years down the road." I want to try different things. Do something that I'm passionate about. Shake my beliefs up. Shake my life up. Not worry about doing something that wasn't 'part of the plan.'

I want to fall and get up. Just to see that I can. Just to see that there's nothing to be scared of. I want to conquer surviving within a world of unknown and handle situations as they come my way. I want to stop anticipating potential problems and worrying about them. I want to stop putting myself on a path. I want to climb trees instead and figure out what branch to jump to at the end of each one.

At least just for a little while.

So I don't secretly wish for a piercing anymore. Instead, I'll have temporary tattoos, henna, jewelry and beads.

But no tattoos.

Previously? Body Image.

I think there's a skewed opinion of body image in the world.

Well, at least in most of the cultures in which I've lived.

Many women try to change their body structure to fit the range of what's 'desirable to a man'. Most of the women I've talked to who are struggling with their weight or self image seem to link it to being wanted. If I'm pretty, men will get attracted to me more, and then I can find someone to like me. It might sound convoluted and desperate to some people, but I've heard this concern multiple times.

Putting the issue of whether you need someone else in your life to feel good about yourself aside, the notion of getting thin to please men doesn't really work, in my opinion.

From what I've experienced, the ones that judge women's bodies are other women. Most men I've met are not really affected by weight as much as women think they are. Some like thinner, some like fuller but none of them notice the extra five pounds you gained last week. At least not the men who are worth having.

Women, however, size you up and down and can tell if the skirt you wore yesterday is a tiny bit tight, if you're bloated from your period, if the shoes you're wearing are scuffed. Women scrutinize other women. It's as if they find you to be a constant threat and therefore need to find fault. Not only do they analyze you to bits, but then they call up your mutual friends and share.

Of course I'm generalizing. Of course it's not true for every woman. Some women are wonderful and kind and caring and don't spend any time feeling good about other women's weaknesses. But, in my experience, women notice other women's body structures and criticize them a lot more than men do.

Most of the women's magazines give tips on losing weight and looking thin. They promote thinness simply by plastering their magazines with thin people. They don't come out and tell you that it's bad to be above a size 4 but they imply, coax and leave subtle hints.

In my opinion, many of today's eating and self-image issues are caused by the women in our lives. The magazines, the movie stars, the family members, siblings, and many others.

So if we want to address these problems, I think we should really start looking within our gender.

Previously? Web People.

I've never been a competitive person.

A month after Jake and I started dating, we ended up taking a class together. Many people assumed that the class would put a strain on our relationship. That our differing grades might give birth to feelings of animosity between us.

But it didn't.

On the contrary, Jake and I chose to be in the same group and we encouraged each other and studied together. Even at that point, I cared enough about him that his getting a good grade made me happy and not jealous.

I tend not to define my life and successes by others.

I don't mean that to sound standoffish. It doesn't imply that I think I'm too good to compare myself to others. It just means that knowing that I'm more successful than so-and-so doesn't make me feel accomplished.

I don't want anyone else to be unsuccessful, unhappy or unaccomplished. There's enough room in the world for all of us to be happy and accomplished in our own ways.

I simply want to be the best that I can be.

This is where things get a bit sticky. It seems my personal requirements for becoming happy and successful are overwhelmingly high. Each time I reach one level of success, I set the next one without spending too much time doting on having accomplished the previous goal. I keep pressing and pushing, determined to see how far I can take it. How much before I break down.

Recently, Jake and I were talking about a success in his family. It was a situation that had done a 180 from the previous year. Last time, we'd wallowed on the sorrow and misfortune for quite some time and the spirits were very low. I was telling Jake that it's only fair that, this time "We should celebrate."

I said, "I think life should be all about under-emphasizing failures and over-celebrating successes."

After the words came out of my mouth, I was surprised at how rarely I listen to my own advice. It's crucial to learn from your mistakes but wallowing in them only makes you depressed. And it's important to celebrate the good moments in life. It's necessary to note having reached a goal. Otherwise, all the work I've done to get here doesn't seem so difficult. Yet it is. Each tiny step that gets one closer to happiness or self-satisfaction is a major accomplishment and requires due attention.

I've decided to take some of my own advice. I'll keep setting personal goals. I'll keep aiming higher and higher. But I'll also stop ignoring the importance of small successes. I'm moving from only jumping a series of hurdles to throwing many parties.

And you're invited.

Previously? Judging.

You are so judgmental.

If you mutter the words "Not me," you simply fall into the majority of people who don't admit to doing the very things of which they accuse others.

There are certain fundamental characteristics that are a part of every human being. While I don't believe we're necessarily born judgmental, we certainly develop this discriminatory outlook on life at one point or another.

The same way we discover lying.

I tend to be weary of anyone who claims to never lie. That's such an obvious lie that either the person is blatantly taking me to be a fool, or, worse, they are not willing to admit the truth to their own selves. We all lie. It's human nature. Some of us do it more compulsively. Some of us do it only under the pretense that they're sparing the other person's feelings. Some people have been doing it for so long that they don't even notice it anymore.

But everybody lies.

I have never met an adult who has never lied.

Neither have I met one who doesn't judge.

You think you are open-minded? Think back to the last time you saw someone with seven piercings on her face? How about the girl in pink tight leather pants with high heels and a low-cut blouse? The guy who wears big silver chains around his neck and no t-shirts? The fifty-year-old man who drives a Porsche convertible? The girl in a three-piece suit with a pearl necklace talking on her cell phone? Two men holding hands? A teenager kissing a seventy year old?

No matter how open minded you are, at least one of the above scenarios will make you jump to conclusions about a person. You make judgement calls on how much money she has or whether she works or not. You assume she must be after his money or that he must be not well educated. She must be a bitch and he must be fun to be around.

You might not hate any of the people. Judgmental doesn't necessarily mean that you're bigoted. It just means that you judge people on a certain set of criteria. We all have categories that we like to place people in and we use certain cues when we meet them to figure out in which category they best fit.

The most common cues are visual. If you want to test this out, give the same picture to a few friends and ask them to tell you about the person in the picture. How old is she? What does she to for a living? Would you like this person? Why?

I guarantee you that they will have answers. Most likely different ones (unless you have a really homogenous circle) but none of them will say that they cannot answer until they meet the person.

Our categories are defined by our surroundings. Possibly at the beginning by the values of our family, and then school, friends, work, etc. With each new environment and year, we might define the categories more specifically and we might realize that most people can't be classified easily.

But we do it anyway.

Previously? Fuck.

I didn't use to believe in randomness.

As a person who spends too much time on each of her moves, my decisions and choices are never haphazard. I have specific reasons for almost each step and can recite them to you if you so wished. I try to think before I speak and I search for meaning behind my actions. The idea that people do things without thinking never made sense to me.

I can agree that, often times, people aren't aware of their own motives. Many of us are affected by our subconscious and do things because they 'feel right' or 'come naturally'. To me, even forgetting was an active decision. The fact that you forgot to buy a dress of the occasion meant that you secretly didn't want to go at all. I guess I didn't like the idea of taking away credit. Since humans are amongst rare animals that have thought and decision-making capabilities, it didn't make sense that they wouldn't constantly take advantage of their unique capability.

Accepting randomness sounded like a copout to me. Instead of taking responsibility, people got to say "oh, I forgot" or "it didn't mean anything". Everything means something. Things happen for a reason. If you forgot, it most likely wasn't all that important to you in the first place. Instead of hiding behind excuses, I wished people would be bold enough to tell the truth.

"Actually, I don't enjoy going out on Friday nights."

"I'm afraid I didn't like that movie at all."

"I just feel like you always bring me down."

There are better ways to phrase honest sentiments and it's important to do that, but so is not being fake. And I just figured why lie forever when you can tell the truth once and be done with it?

Everything means something.

I'm not sure if I believe that anymore. The above sentence makes it really hard to deal with major calamities beyond your control like murder, rape or losing a baby. I'm adjusting my mind to the fact that sometimes things happen for no reason at all. At least no discernable reason. And it's okay not to know the 'why's.

Sometimes it's best to just move on. To know that something will only affect you if you let it and that you won't.

Maybe entropy is more likely to be the world's model than order, but it still doesn't excuse your not thinking about your actions and words. Next time you run across a situation where you seem to have done something inadvertently, pay attention to your feelings and thoughts.

Maybe you'll discover that the act wasn't so random after all.

Previously? Seed.

I've always been fascinated by people who claim to be the first to do something.

"Oh he is always the first to discover a new book or a trend." And for some reason people think that this is a sought-after trait.

I just fail to understand the importance of this trend. Why is it important, or desirable, that a person be the very first to read a new novel or see a current movie? What exactly does that really say about the person?

I've been racking my brain and I can't come up with a good answer. I keep thinking that ten years down the line who will still care that this person was the first to have read a certain novel if by that point we've both read it? How does it matter that you went to Denmark before I did, if we've both been there?

I see the advice-oriented benefits to having already done something. If you've already been to Denmark, you might be able to tell me where to eat or which sightseeing tours not to miss, but that's about all. Same goes for a book or a movie; you could tell me what you thought about it. Even then, it might say nothing about what I will think about it.

In many industries, especially technology, being first sometimes actually has a negative correlation with being the best. America had analog cell phones much earlier than many countries, including Turkey. But as a late-adopter Turkey was able to invest into the latest and greatest digital technology, which had been invented by the time cell phones made it to Turkey. Today, digital phones in America are much more expensive and not as reliable as their counterparts in Turkey.

Software programming is also similar. Someone who learned how to code many years ago might have been the greatest Fortran or Cobol programmer ever, but for these people making the leap to Object Oriented Programming has been much more difficult, causing them to lose their jobs to latecomers.

So being the first is not always the best and I really can't see why it's such a 'hot' trait. Why does it matter that she was the first to use the color orange? Why does it matter that he wore a turtleneck way before many others?

It all just seems so trivial to me.

But if you have any useful insight on this matter, I'd love it if you shared it.

Previously? Family Values.

There are long periods in history where for some reason or another, a person has had to hide their identity. Some awful cases exist even today.

I know there are some well-known examples and others that seem to have faded, though they definitely shouldn't have. One of my core beliefs is that people should be allowed to be whatever and whomever they choose to be.

I don't understand how any one person could claim to know what the 'right' or 'acceptable' way is. And how does it really affect one person's life that the other exists. It's one thing for me to go around and try to convert people to be something else, and another for me to just be that on my own. In my opinion only the weak fear what's different. The uneducated seek comfort in being close-minded.

What I hate with even more vigor are people who discriminate just to be a part of 'the gang.' While one is stupid and ignorant, the other knows full well the atrocity of such behavior and continues to do it nonetheless.

I was thinking today that I don't spend enough time appreciating the liberty I have had. Luckily, I've never been discriminated against, at least to my knowledge. I've been classified as "you people" several times in my life and have always spoken up to let people know that just because I might be in what's labeled as a minority, it's not suddenly okay to segregate.

In the same way, I don't enjoy when the minorities themselves use this separation to their advantage. I don't like it to be "women's month" for anything. That implies that women are still a minority and need to be handled as a separate entity. I remember reading in Heather's interview at the women zinester survey that her vision for "women's web" is a place where such a term is unnecessary and thinking that I loved her answer. I don't want to read into her words or put words in her mouth but for me, the fact that someone needs to single "women" out means there still is a problem.

I'm all for people being proud of who they are. All for people with the same beliefs or issues getting together and using each other for support. But the minute these people use the segregation to their advantage, to me it's like they're supporting the ideals of the people who put them in this position in the first place.

Today, I'm feeling thankful that I live in a city where people don't judge me for my differences. I feel thankful for having had a smooth life and thankful to those who fought for me to be able to have this life. It's crucial that people fight against being forced to hide their identity.

For if we lose that, what have we left?

Previously? At the Ballet.

I was raised in a very Jewish environment. I don't mean to imply that it was religious, just that my surroundings almost exclusively consisted of Jewish people. In a country where 99 percent of the population is Muslim, I imagine it's not rare for the minorities to stick together.

I also hated most anyone I grew up with. Almost all of them were snotty, air headed, superficial people. They judged you solely on looks and what brand names you wore. They backstabbed without discrimination and they were cruel.

So as soon as I was old enough, I chose my own friends, most of whom were Muslim. When hanging out with them I used to joke that since I was a Jew myself, it was acceptable for me to belittle other Jews.

There's a discussion in MetaFilter this week about Mel Brooks's comment upon accepting one of this Tony awards. The poster complains that he finds it unacceptable that people make light of such a dreadful situation as the Holocaust. One of the counterarguments posed is that since Brooks is Jewish himself, he should be allowed to make fun of it any way he pleases.

My personal opinions on the matter aside, I think saying that since Brooks is Jewish he should be able to treat Jewish subject matters however he chooses, is unacceptable. For the people who said that there are many ways to deal with an issue and this may be how Brooks chooses to do it, that's fine. I'm just against the idea that any member of a group of people should be allowed to speak on behalf of the group.

Just because Brooks is Jewish doesn't mean he's the chosen speaker for all Jews worldwide. It also doesn't mean he's not allowed to have his point of view and feelings about the matter. We're all allowed to have thoughts on anything. Even though I'm not Muslim, I might have an opinion on the misconceptions about Muslim people in Western civilizations. While it's true that I might not know what being Muslim feels like firsthand, that doesn't automatically disqualify me from being able to intelligently discuss the subject matter.

In the same token, just because I'm Jewish doesn't mean my opinion qualifies for all Jews. Some Jews might find power in looking at the humor or irony in the horror of it all, while others might abhor the idea of the word comedy and Holocaust being used in the same sentence. People will always have differing opinions and feelings about similar experiences; that's what makes the world interesting. And someone's right will often be someone else's wrong. And that's fine.

Sure Brooks can address the Holocaust in a manner he finds appropriate and so can a Swiss or a Muslim or most any other person. And there is a difference between speaking from first hand experience and just reading or interfacing with others, but it still doesn't mean that all members of a minority see eye to eye on all issues concerning that minority group.

So saying that Brooks could make fun of the Holocaust because he's Jewish seems like an invalid argument to me.

Not that the show is directly about Jews or the Holocaust anyhow.

Previously? Blissful Ignorance.

If I were a car, I'd be one stuck on overdrive.

During sixth grade, I prepared all year for an exam that would allow me to transfer from one school to a better one. After ten months of obscene hours of studying, private lessons, and a ruined summer, three days before the exam I found out that the school would only accept one person.

Almost a hundred of us taking the test and they would let in only one person.

I had no chance in hell.

But I'd come this far and I was going to take the damn test regardless. On the morning of the exam, I woke up with a fever of 38.5, which is 101.3 for the Celsius challenged. It seemed like all signs pointed to this school not being in my future.

I went to the test nonetheless. And because I was so sick, I read each question several times, ensuring myself I knew exactly what they were asking. I took my sweet ass time and I didn't worry, mostly cause I couldn't; it was already too much effort to keep my eyelids from closing.

And, of course, I got in. (Otherwise my telling this story would be pointless, right?)

I know that the only reason I scored so high on that test was cause I was too tired to rush through it. I didn't make the usual mistakes that come from hurriedly misreading the question.

I've always done a million things at once. The TV would blast while I did homework. I did my undergraduate degree and graduate degree simultaneously. During the same four years, I held five different jobs on campus, dated two different men (not simultaneously of course!) so it wasn't like I was closed up in my room studying all the time. Even when I walk down the street I walk rapidly, more concerned with my destination than my route. Always rushing. If I'm not doing a million things, I'm often doing nothing. It's like a car that can do 0 or 100 but nothing in between.

I know that I have my mom to thank for these specific genes. She suffers from the same speed problem and often complains at the end of each day about how she has a million things to do and how she feels overwhelmingly worn out.

On Saturday, I lifted one of my nephews in an effort to stop him from jumping into the not-so-clean waters of the Bosphorus. Within twenty seconds, my back reminded me what a completely moronic decision that was. Pains started shooting up and down my left leg.

So my back is broke. Again.

Now I'm walking, more like limping I guess, around New York City, slowly.

Slowly.

I am taking my time. I have no choice. But I'm realizing that while fast accomplishes many things, slow is crucial. It makes you pay attention. It makes you see details. It makes you think.

It makes you enjoy.

I'm sad it took my body's incapacity to get me here, but I'm trying to make the most of it. I'm learning that sometimes you want to cruise at 40 and appreciate the landscape.

Previously? Hatred.

Previously? OCD.

Three years ago, I walked into my then-boss' office and we started chit chatting and she showed me pictures from her wedding. As I stared at picture number three, I was blown away? "What's this girl's name?" I asked, knowing the answer full well. My boss confirmed my suspicions. The girl who stared at me from the picture was none other than the ex of my ex. Funny enough, she was now dating my boss's ex.

To make matters even more creepy, we ran into the two of them at a flight to Missouri. They were seated along the aisle from us.

Heh.

When I was in college, the mother of one of the admission counselors had just come back from Turkey. She showed me a photo she'd taken with a guy who shared the same bus with her when she traveled south. The guy was my best friend from home. My first boyfriend.

Heh.

Today I was chatting with someone whose weblog I stumbled upon by chance and I find out that his best friend went to the same school as Jake and me. To add to the absurdity, he and Jake were in the same dormitory for several years. I may have even seen this guy many times.

Heh.

I think Disney might be right; it's a small world after all.

Previously? Immobile.

I remember a Brown alumnus, in Turkey, who asked me the following question in an interview. "Would you rather have fame or fortune?" I seem to recall the original question having three options, but for the life of me, I can't remember the third, which is real weird since that's the option I'd chosen. (The even weirder fact is that I never applied to Brown University so obviously it must have been a different school's alumnus, but my memory insists it was Brown.)

If I were asked the same question today, I think I'd answer differently. At the time both fame and fortune seemed beside the point. I told her that I'd just like to be really good at my job. I would want to be respected in my field. Her question implied an excess and I don't need too much of either.

Not to say there aren't benefits to being famous. People give you things (mostly so you'd promote it for them) for free and they'll do anything to be associated with you. That's one of the reasons most charities try to have a celebrity talk about their cause. But there are too many downsides to being famous. Too many people think they know you. You never have a personal life. Not that I would really know, but that's what my imagination assumes, at least.

I've never been famous. Not even for fifteen minutes. But I have been put on a pedestal by different people in my life. And I don't like it. When someone thinks you're so wonderful and amazing, all you can do is disappoint that person. We're all human. We make mistakes. We hurt people. We have faults. Most of us have disgusting habits. Many of us suffer from self-doubt. We don't always say the right thing. We don't always do the right thing.

So when we're placed on a mantle, we're bound to fall down. As we never belonged there initially.

That's not to say that some people don't have amazing talents. There are many people on and off the web that I admire madly. I respect their talent, especially of the humble ones. When someone's really cocky, it's harder to look up to that person. There are many areas where I wish I were as good as these people. When I read an amazing book, see a great design, an awe-inspiring piece of art, and a really clear and intelligent piece of code. All of these inspire me. I feel thankful that such people live and make our world a better place. I strive to learn from them. But I don't forget that they, too, are human.

The problem with the pedestal is that it distorts reality. So when the person makes a mistake, as humans are bound to, his or her admirer starts hating him. How dare the great designer make an ordinary-looking page? How dare he not respond to my email? Who does he think he is? All this anger coming from the fact that you set the person up to a set of standards that he was bound to not meet.

I often see the same thing in relationships. One partner totally blinded by the other one. He can do no wrong. Until he does, of course, mess up and the entire relationship is destroyed. If you start up so high, there's nowhere to go but down.

So I'd still prefer not to have fame. Fortune, however, is welcome at my house anytime.

Previously? Opera.

Isabella Rosselini has a new perfume. As I watched the program where she was talking about the process of making this perfume a reality, she said that her logo for the perfume was that it should be a scent representing not this mystical thing that we strive to be but who we really are.

Which, of course, made me think.

There is an entire set of products whose job is to make us look and feel better. Perfume and makeup are easy to recognize members of such a club. Most of their function is in distorting reality. In hiding the blemishes and highlighting the strengths.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

For all intensive purposes, striving to be better is wonderful. It gives you drive, motivation and direction. Nothing wrong with a healthy dose of self-competition.

Healthy being the operative word.

I think these industries have gone so overboard that we feel ugly without make-up. We feel obligated to buy seventeen skin products to look decent. There's nothing wrong with trying to accentuate the positive and go the extra mile on special occasions. As long as they don't distort our idea of who we are.

I know many people who won't even buy milk without putting makeup on, or wearing heels. Argh. Looking spiffy is nice, but who you are is so much more than that and why do you really have to be this "mystical entity" all the time?

I like the idea of celebrating who we are. Putting light makeup, dressing comfortably, being happier in your own skin. I wish more of us did that. We're so busy being fed the person we have the potential to be, that we never enjoy being the person we already are.

It's like people who live for the freedom they'll have once they're retired but their entire life is torture until that moment. We live in a society where plastic surgery and diet programs thrive. One where size 2 is the norm and one where normal-looking people are never good enough. Images get doctored, blemishes covered. Views are skewed.

What's so bad about just being you?

Previously? Trust.

It's pouring outside. When we were little, my sister would say that rain is God crying. During earthquakes, she'd say it's the devils fighting down below. Quite funny, cause we were never ever a religious family.

I don't like rain. Over the years, I've observed that people either love it or hate it. Rain always depresses me. It makes me think of mud. In the non-paved streets of Istanbul, rain doesn't cause a pretty mixture. Maybe it's due to my having lived in big cities all my life, but rain is people rushing home, subways overflowing, and the unbearable traffic

I could imagine a beautiful house with large glass panes, facing the ocean, by the beach. In that case and assuming I don't work or that I work from home, rain might not conjure up such bad emotions. If I lived by some trees, I might like that, too. I love the smell of wet trees.

I suppose the other factor would be the temperature. If it were raining but warm, like in Florida, I could go out in the rain in my shorts and twirl around. I might even do cartwheels. In Turkey, during the summer, we get short, fast showers. I remember many times where I'd be walking at Burgaz from my house to the club as I got caught in one of them and I'd get soaked. And then, just as quickly as it started, it would all be over and the sun would cover the sky, the last few drops decorating it with rainbows. It never bummed me out then, I just jumped in the sea with my clothes on.

I guess it's closely related to my frame of mind. In the ideal setting, with no work to do, rain is delightful, but in New York, during lunch or the commute home, it's a pain.

I'm definitely ready for spring.

Previously? Silence.

A while back, Jason polled his readers about their preferred superpower. Even though it didn't win, my choice of the three would have been to make myself invisible. But my real option wasn't even on the list. If I got to pick my superpower, I'd want to read people's thoughts.

I'm confident this is an outcome of my childhood dealings with two-faced people. But even besides that I'm always fascinated by what goes through people's minds. How people feel about things and what they're thinking at specific moments.

So alongside the "I wish I knew what people think about me" thought, I do have a scientific interest in this superpower.

Ahem. Well most wise people in my life say that this would be a huge disaster. When you hear other people's thoughts, you'll quickly realize that the world is not a nice place. Even people whom you consider close friends, have negative thoughts about you every now and then. And some things are better left unsaid. There is a reason we choose to say some words out loud and others not to say at all.

Think of the number of times you think a negative thought about your best friend. About your boyfriend. Even about your family. How much of a relationship would you have with any of them if they could read your mind?

I totally agree that the above is food for thought. But it also makes me wonder why we keep certain things unsaid. When you feel anger or sorrow and you keep it inside, it only builds up to become resentment. If someone pisses you off, why don't you tell them? If someone hurts your feelings, is it better to not be honest? When does hiding become a good thing?

Maybe I am naive, maybe I am stupid. But I'd still like to hear people's thoughts.

At least until I lose all faith in humanity.

What about you? Would you want to hear other people's thoughts?

Previously? Labyrinths.

I've never understood people who hate different people. Whether it be a differing skin color, religious background, sexual preference or dressing up in an odd fashion.

Why is it that some people get angry when they see gay men? How is that so threatening? Why does it bother you if a guy decides to dress up like a girl? My very first gay friend ever was a guy named Brad. Freshman year in college. Kinda late, I know, but people don't come out all that easily in Turkey. Or they didn't in my environment when I lived there.

Maybe I remember it differently, but I don’t recall being mad at Brad, ever. He was a kind, giving and caring person. He had just told his parents and they had not reacted well. Actually quite badly. Enough such that he ended up having to drop out of college to save money so he could afford to go back in college.

I just don't understand the hostility. Does it come from a fear that if such people exist you might accidentally become one? How little fun would life be if we all looked the same and we all thought the same. Yet, even as a child we tend to feel the need to make fun of others. Little kids love to gang up against an unusual looking little boy or a girl with a funny name.

One of the reasons I love New York is that one rarely feels like a freak here. There are so many varieties of people and everyone's so busy living their own lives that, they don't have the time to stare at others. Or they don't care.

I love that.

Just live and let live, I think. As long as you're not affecting my life, who am I to tell you how to live yours?

Previously? Blondes Have More Fun.

If you've been here before, you'll probably notice that I've made some changes. I think it's all pretty self-explanatory so go explore. And, of course, all comments are welcome.

Many thanks go to Heather for taking the time to help me figure out how to download the images from my watch to my PC. Since I'd already had several conversations with Casio support and with the company where I bought my watch, my next step was going to be sending the units back. So Heather did me a huge, huge favor.

Jake's out of town in Lakeland, Florida, celebrating his grandmother's ninetieth birthday. Normally, I'd be there, too, but I'm not allowed to fly. So he's there loving the beautiful weather and I'm stuck in bed, watching TiVo.

I don't do well when Jake's gone. It's not that I can't be alone, it's just that I really like having him around. Even when he sits in the living room and I spend the day in bed, knowing he's next door makes me happy. I guess I'm like a little girl who always wants her friend around. Jake's my best friend and I like him near me. I also like waking up next to him. Oh well, one more day and he'll be back.

My back is doing better. Wohoo! Not healed, yet, but any improvement is enough to make me ecstatic.

Today was my third pottery class and I think I'm finally getting the hang of it. My fingerprints don't leave imprints on the clay any longer and I've even managed to make a bowl, a single-rose vase and a cup. They're all lopsided but I'm just glad I'm learning to enjoy it and to relax. The most fun part is seeing the clay mold under your fingers as the wheel turns. A tiny bit of pressure exerted in one area affects the entire shape of the pot. When I watch the teacher and see the clay shift shapes, it almost seems magical.

Previously? The Right Way

When I was in Japan, there was an arcade right by my house. I'm not originally a huge fan of arcades but this one had a typing game that my friend John and I played until the wee hours of the morning. It's the same game as The House of the Dead but instead of shooting, you have to type the words that appear on the screen to kill the monsters. The Japanese version had Japanese words, therefore making the typing really hard. I almost bought a Dreamcast just to be able to play this game but there was no American version. Until Now. Yeaaaaayyyy!!!

Ten Passed Technologies [ via slashdot ] Real interesting but they certainly should have included Betamax as well.

Okay, I admit. I watch the Rosie O'Donnell Show. Embarrassing? Probably, but I like it. It keeps me abreast of many upcoming movies. I like that she's so nice to all her guests as opposed to other talk show hosts who try to squeeze out the juicy bits of the guests’ lives. Today she had on the man who won the Teacher of the Year award from Disney and this teacher was so excited and he talked about how he had a second job as a waited cause his salary was so low and his bills were so high. Thanks to Rosie's show Barnes and Noble donated 10grand worth of books to this teacher's class and Rosie made his lifelong dream of seeing the Great Wall of China come true by buying him and a friend tickets to China. This guy was so amazingly thrilled that I teared up. I know slate hates her and I know that I should be embarrassed to be watching it, but I love seeing all the happiness that she works so hard to give. In a world where there are so few well-intentioned people left, she makes me smile.

Previously?

The first is disgusting and as someone who actually does eat at McDonalds, this link brought me a step closer to becoming vegetarian today.

The second is quite creepy. I'm not exactly sure how I feel about this, yet so I will refrain from commenting further.

Btw, a few days too late for me but if you ever get the Feliz Navided virus, this page will help you fix it. Or so I'm told. No personal guarantees since I didn't fix mine that way.

Thoughts
Still in severe amounts of pain. I am so thankful to those of you who've been kind enough to send me cards and wish me well. I'm sure it will be over soon enough, I'm just dreading having to sit for three hours to take that exam on Sunday. To add to that, I haven't cracked the book open all week. Thank you so much for your thoughtful messages.

I'm awful about email. The way email works for me is that I either reply immediately or it sits in my inbox for weeks which turn into months. I folder all my mail once it's answered and so I know that anything in my Inbox is something that needs a response. I have messages there from August. That's how bad I am. Whenever I write a mail to someone, I can never wait for the answer without worrying. I want to get their answer immediately. If a full day passes, I'm already heartbroken and disappointed that the person didn't care enough to reply. And here I am doing the very same thing. It's awful and it's incredibly rude. If you sent me mail and I didn't respond and you're reading this, I apologize wholeheartedly. I've been using the Japanese exam excuse for the last few weeks but I can always come up with one cuz my life is full enough to pull one out of a list. To be honest, my life wouldn't mean anything to me without the people who do send me mail and call me and are happy to spend time with me. If I blow those people off, I deserve to be alone. People deserve better. You deserve better. I apologize. I will reply. I mean it.

I have so many thoughts dancing in my head lately. Thoughts about my life. Thoughts about who I am. Who I want to be. Who I should be. Who I will never be. I try hard to get to know myself and understand why I feel the need to do some of the things I do. More on this later, most likely.

Today, three of my workmates and I had lunch together. One girl was from Russia and the other girl and guy were from India. We started talking bout the games we played as kids, during recess, etc. It was amazing how many games we had in common. Russia, India and Turkey and the games were exactly the same. I find it fascinating that even then, before the web (and since we only had one TV channel when I was a kid and it was government regulated, you can't even say we saw them on TV) our cultures had all that in common. I think that's fascinating and wonderful.

Tomorrow is World AIDS day. Please take the time to share your stories, educate yourself, and share your knowledge.

Before?

One of the reasons I love living in New York City is cause you can hail cabs here. I'm used to being able to go out in the street, stick out my arm and have a yellow one stop right in front of me. When I moved from Istanbul to Pittsburgh, that was one of the things I missed most. In Pittsburgh, you call a cab and start praying for it to show. Anyhow, back to New York. The thing that baffles me is how few people know the simple taxi system. All cabs in New York use the same strategy to symbolize whether they are free or not. If the sign on top of the cab is not lit, it's Occupied. If it's totally lit, it's Off Duty and if the mid section is lit, it's Available. When hailing for a cab, all you need to do is look for the cabs whose middle light is on. How complicated is that? (And if my explanation sounds complicated, it's only cause I suck at explaining not cause it's actually confusing.) It took me all of a day or two to figure this out. For some reason, New York is full of people who have not. It really baffles me.

Thank God it's Friday. This week has been long and draining so I am really glad it's over. I'm tired of coming home with a whole set of ideas on what I need to do and how I'm going to get it all done and ending up on the couch, unable to move. I'm planning to use this weekend to recharge. And accomplish the millions of things on my list.

Before?

I don't really hang out with Turkish people in the States. I have a few friends from home who live in New York but we see each other once every few months. My boyfriend is American and so are most of my close friends. Or they are Russian, Irish, Brazilian... anything but Turkish. This is not on purpose, but it is a fact. I also read almost exclusively in English. In the last ten years, I've read one Turkish book. The funny thing is right after I come back from a visit home, I'm totally immersed into Turkish culture. I'm reading a Turkish book and have been constantly listening to an amazing song by Teoman called Paramparca which translates to 'in pieces'. Here's the mp3 if you wanna listen. Even my mother adores this song.

Yesterday I happened to watch CBS's early show and they had the author of My War : A Love Story in Letters and Drawings from World War II. Mr. Sugarman had just gotten married when he was drafted and his wife gave him a set of watercolors and told him to paint for her. This book is a collection of those paintings and the love letters he wrote to her. I saw some of the pictures and heard an excerpt from the letters and they sound amazing. Even though I'm not usually a fan of war books, I am definitely getting this one.

The same show had a segment on bullying which is a real problem that doesn't get enough attention. The show talked about a new hotline for the issue. I'm glad someone's doing something about it.

I feel grateful that I'm not in the selling business. Either a product or a service. I believe selling well requires two strengths that I don't possess. One, self-confidence and two, ability to suck up well. I'm more on the paranoid side and tend to not think so highly of myself and I can't suck up to save my life. I would be a surefire failure in the selling business.

October is breast cancer awareness month. Be aware and make others aware.

It's really amazing how worked up I can get about the debates especially considering that I am not American and I cannot vote. I'm really enraged by some people's lack of attention and their apathy. You need to care. If you lose hope, what do you have left? Also, I really can't understand how people can vote for someone who is so obviously a total moron, but we won't get into that.

Told you I had a lot to say today...

Oh and I must mention the subway series. I hope the Mets win only cause the Yankees already have won so many in a row. It'd be neat to see the Mets in the spotlight for a change.

Before?

Here's today's: "And if you said this life ain't good enough, I would give my world to lift you up."

Know the source? Mail me.

Have suggestions?

Goody Links
I usually don't link to anything that's already mentioned in MetaFilter but I've talked about these cows before, so I figure it's fair that I let you know that amazon's auctioning them tomorrow.

Openletters has a new letter everyday. I've enjoyed quite a few of them. The conversation with the most popular girl in school was one of my favorites.

Thoughts
It's amazing how short life is. It's also sad that we only think about how short life is when someone dies suddenly. While I don't necessarily subscribe to the "be thankful you have arms and legs" mantra that most parents preach to their children, I do think that it's not a good idea to spend too much time being upset over things. (Don't get me wrong, I am thankful that I have arms and legs. I am thankful for much more than that. But every time something makes me sad, I can't just smile cause I have all my limbs. Sometimes, I want to be sad and look up at the people who have more than I do, not less.) Life really is too short. If you're in a job you don't like, get out of it. Or at least start thinking seriously about how you can get out of it. If you have friends who make you sad or angry more often than happy, they're not your friends. If something isn't working out for you, then change it. Believe me, you can. I just think that most people are too lazy to make their life into what they wish it could be. Days pass so quickly and as Derek put so wonderfully: "I think that you only get one go at this life, and it's up to you to make sure you leave a story worth telling."

Sorry about the little preaching session. Someone I met a month ago, died today and I just realized, once more, that life is too short. I wish it didn't take such tragedy to knock some sense into me.

I would lie if I said I read his page but I do think this is truly well-said. I would give credit to the source of my link but I read it in several places and I can't remember which one was first.

Wow, I didn’t mean to drivel like that. I have no idea where it came from. Anyhow, after that heavy piece, here’s some fun. Okay, not very funny, but I’m trying.

Btw, we bought it and I highly recommend it.

For a second, I got a glimpse of my college days. I must say I don't miss that part of school.

Only two days till my birthday, what did you get me?

Well, I'm off to the book reading. Hopefully, that'll cheer me up.

A McSweeney's article for people who love angels. It's quite funny.

Mel C of the Spice Girls says she wants men, not women. I know you wanted to know.

The article also mentions that the building has a policy of not honoring commercial products, corporate events or private occasions. An exception was when in March 1995, the building went blue to celebrate the announcement of the blue M&Ms.

At noon, I go back to New York Society for the Deaf. It's really interesting being there and working with deaf people. I'm always amazed at how flexible their fingers are and how quickly they sign. It also fascinates me how they make up signs for certain words. For example, last week, I helped a few women fill out a form for housing aide. One of the items on the form asked if they currently live in substandard housing. Another item asked if their rent is subsidized. I kept wondering if there is a sign for subsidized. The only way I managed to explain it to her was to ask if anyone helped pay her rent, but I bet there is a sign that would have conveyed it better. Sign Language is really amazing. It's the only language where you can say two totally different words at the same exact moment.