Monday, October 29, 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
As I write, Istanbul muslims are being called to prayer on a loud speaker that echoes throughout the city. Is amazing place. I cannot wait to tell you all about it; sitting in Sultanahmet Park between the Blue Mosque and Hagia Sophia, arguably two of the most beautiful structures in the world; Efes beers with new friends at the Cozy Bar and Pub; smoking water pipes with Turkish Scott Baio; visiting the harem at Topkapi Palace... Istanbul is truly other-worldly! (Though the comforts of home exist on late-night NBC, where I totally caught How I Met Your Mother the other night in English!)
We leave tomorrow. Tragic. Until then: gule gule!
Monday, October 15, 2007
Secondly, hello! Welcome back to Manayunk is the New Queens is the New Manhattan or whatever, where this charming little blogger has been in 7833890 cities in 3 days, or something. I can't keep track anymore. Last week I was in Charleston, South Carolina, but kept thinking I was in Charlotte, North Carolina.
Today, a homecoming: Back in 'Cuse. Where everybody knows McNabb's name. (Shout out, Real JC!)
Tomorrow Oswego, New York. Thursday, the WORLD. Or, more specifically, Istanbul.
You may have noticed Turkey in the news last week. Briefly, Congress is trying to pass a resolution to declare the Ottoman Turks' killing of the Armenians during World War I a genocide; in fact, they want to declare the killings the first official genocide of the twentieth century. The Turks, as you can imagine, are charmed; or rather, protesting. They have argued that the death toll is over-inflated, and they have warned the United States not to pass this resolution. J and I aren't sure what this means for us, or any American travelers in the country for that matter. We are monitoring the situation closely (along with the U.S. Government Travel Site); and plan on laying very low, and possibly playing Canadian, as you do. Ultimately, we still plan to have an amazing adventure! And I will totally blog from Turkey, my people. Recognize.
We're also hoping that our "W" invitations will go out this week. Pray God.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Oh, hello there. Welcome to DC, land of fucking quadrants. When you are intimately familiar with the New York City grid system, quadrants will blow your goddamn mind. But try to stay positive, like me. Here I am playing the role of happy-go-lucky woman whose head is not about to explode. Nope.
J, I told you, he said 7th and F! The Spy Museum is on 7th and F! I don't see any Spy Museum. God, I am hungry. And I have to pee. (Nefarious "SW" on sign overhears, and cackles. Another frustrated tourist! All in a day's work.)
Look, J! The Capitol Building. It's a magical place where bills become laws. Remember *sings* I'm just a bill, sitting up on Capitol Hill? Oh, right. *Rolls eyes* I can't believe you never saw School House Rock, J. Honestly.
Now take a picture of me, holding the Washington Monument like a sword, k? Oh man, J, this is clever. I bet no one has tried this before! Awesome.
Here we are trying to redeem ourselves, after the incredible photo a French man took of us once:
Wow, this is quite an abrupt ending to this less than stellar post! Rosie the Riveter, take us home:
Last night I sat next to the chattiest man evah on my Southwest flight. By the time we landed (one-hour flight, y'all), I'd learned all about his boat in New England; his work at the Franklin Mint; his current job; his current girlfriend; that time his ex moved all of her things out of their Indiana home one day with her brother, and he took off to Club Med in Punta Cana the next day and played Caesar in an improv skit (and when they asked him what Caesar wanted, he proclaimed: "VIRGINS!"); and then some dude there told him that now he could have any woman he wanted; but then he didn't; he only had one. Then there was the time he saw his ex at a wedding a few years later, where she ignored him; then he convinced the best-looking woman in the room to dance with him, to make his ex jealous; then they spent one night together and he sent her flowers the next day, but they never spoke again.
"So how old are you?" He asked between these charming anecdotes.
"Twenty-seven," I replied, burying my nose in Vanity Fair, the universal travelers' sign for polite conversation over, man: I've got never-before-seen pics of the Kennedys by Richard Avedon to pour over.
"Man, I could use a 27 year-old."
I shift uncomfortably.
"But not you! Obviously, because you're engaged. I could have a daughter your age! I just turned 50."
I sensed a sadness in his voice when he said the words. For a moment, I felt pity.
"So," I began, "No children then?"
"Nah. Never been married. That's why I need a woman of child-bearing age."
(I really couldn't make this stuff up, these revelatory travel tales.)
"Then your girlfriend is older?" I ask.
"Yeah. Older than me, actually. 51. In L.A. right now. But she works a lot. Man, I told her: you keep working your ass off like that. I'm just gonna play."
I may be projecting, or reading too much Faludi these days, but his words are joyless. I imagine he is very lonely.
"But who's going to marry me?" He asks.
"Someone will marry you!" I assure him.
"Of child-bearing age?" He asks me. I say nothing for a moment. Then, "You could adopt."
He shakes his head dismissively, then picks his small blue tote off the floor. "Scallops," he smiles. "Caught'em myself. I can't wait to get home and eat these."
Then I pretend to be incredibly interested in his live scallops, as he pries open a shell to show off his treasure.
When we land, the conversation ends as it always ends on planes: the take care, good luck.
"Well, nice talking to you. Take care."
"You too. Good luck with everything."
I'm not sure it's relevant, but this is one of those enlightening experiences that wakes me up for a brief moment; that teaches me what it is to be human. We're all searching. The tide is always changing. We long to connect. And sometimes, the best thing we can do is put aside the Graydon Carter editorial for a second, and look at the scallops. Because it is kind.
Monday, October 01, 2007
God - I am bored reading that. My apologies for this lame post.
Upcoming post spoiler alert:
Which happy-go-lucky bride-to-be found out her Dominican resort was changing ownership, name, and going though multi-million dollar renovations in the next few months?