Today was Black Friday,

and I did the unthinkable: for the first time in my life, I left the house and went somewhere with shops.

But, seeing as how Black Friday doesn't really exist here, it didn't matter this much.

I got the information for a photo place from Anni, one of the other Erasmus students, which was the first thing in a long while that's gone the way I had hoped it would. I then continued on to the IETT office to stand around for two hours, waiting to get my card.

Well, I didn't have to stand around for two hours.

The machine that dispenses numbers was out of order, or they'd stopped giving out numbers for the day...considering my Turkish hasn't progressed past the terms I need on a day-to-day basis, I still have issues with, well, most written things. (I'd also like to add: I arrived at 12:30, the office closes at 4, and when I was there on Wednesday, there were people getting numbers at 1:30, so it's not like I got there abnormally late or anything.)

So I still don't have my transportation card. I'll be back Monday morning at 8 for a third time. I'd love to have someone to rail at, but since red tape doesn't have a face, I'm not entirely who should be taking the brunt of my pissed-offed-ness.

I know I keep saying "I want to go home," but after all of this, I'm starting (starting) to think that I may go back to Iowa next semester.

I haven't decided anything yet, though.

What's really making it difficult is how easy it was. If all that had happened was applying for the program and then coming here, it would be totally different.

But that's not what happened.

Turkey was my third choice to study abroad, and it was the one that fit best and the one I was most excited about. And then there was Selin, and then more connections (thanks to my aunt who knows everyone my other aunt won't meet), and it all was so clear that Istanbul was where I was supposed to be. I haven't gotten many neon signs from God, but this was one of them.

That's what's making it so hard. I never really considered spending only a semester here, for several reasons, but now I'm staring at the mark five weeks out (classes end in five weeks, and then there are another two of finals, which I can finagle if I need to), willing it to come sooner than humanly possible.

So there's the part of me that really, really, really wants to go home. But there's another part of me that's tempted to stay for another semester. Part of the problem that I'm running into is that I don't really know any of the other students. Yes, I know that's my fault, but what I didn't realize at the time was that the only time I'd have to get to know them was during the parties (when everyone was drinking) or the barhopping. I think that if I stayed for another semester, I'd be far more willing to go out barhopping, knowing that it would pay off in the end.

And if I ever manage to fight my way through all of this red tape (I think I may buy some red ribbon when I get home and burn it), I won't have to deal with it again.

But, on the other hand again, I don't want to put up with the classes here any more than I have to. It was highly enjoyable to have easy classes for the first month or so, but now I'm just bored. Courses (with the exception of Graphic design) are interesting while my butt's in the seat, but after that, there isn't anything, really, to think about. The only homework I ever get is in Studio Design--a model a week--which I like, and the professors' comments are interesting and make me think, but the models only take me an evening to make, and I feel like I have to do all of the pushing myself. I try to come up with something interesting, that fits the criteria, and that I like, and with those three (rather simple) things, I have models that are near the top of the heap. Well, except for the time I completely missed the point of the assignment, but I'm pretty sure that was a translation problem. It's like almost no one in the class (they're all first years) is really interested in what's being said.

Normally, I'd have more patience with that kind of thing, but since Turkey works the same way most European schools do, which means all 50-ish of those students decided to study architecture, and even with a translator, it's obvious we're learning about the fundamentals.

m.

Reiteration

[A Warning, but not Apology: Herein lies Language.]

Fuck this. I really do mean that. This has moved so far beyond the realm of insanity that I don't think it even has a name.

I am tired of this fucking country, and of this city, and I just want to go home.

I have been here for three months, and I cannot take it anymore. I can't get to school without relying on the people I live with. I can't get a transportation card because I don't have a real photograph of myself. I don't like photos of myself. I hardly have any digitally, let alone on photo paper, let alone with me.

I'm supposed to go get my permanent residency visa tomorrow, for which I need 4 photographs. However, after today, I have to wonder if my original plan (for which I still need a printer) will even work; if they'll accept what I have, or if the red tape that my life seems to be draped in will prevent me.

When I can actually get to my classes, they require minimum brain power on my part. The professors enjoy changing hours without regard to other classes we (read: I) have, and when I try to leave early, I get lectured in front of the entire class.

I have yet to find someone even remotely like me, which means, someone with whom I can have a real conversation and doesn't consider barhopping the best way to spend a night.

I miss nature. Trees, mountains, water (the Golden Horn and Bosporus just don't cut it, you can see the other side and there's nothing water-y about them).

Everywhere I go, it seems like I go alone, which, three months in, sucks. I am so bereft of things to do in acceptable circumstances (ie., going to the Spice Market with someone) that I've finished well over a thousand pages of reading material, most of that in about three weeks, crocheted four scarves and torn two of them apart, doubled the length of the story I've been working on, and spent what has probably amounted to over a hundred hours just walking up and down Istikal.

Due to this, I don't want to devote any more than an hour to reading, have stopped wearing scarves, am second-gussing every word I write, and don't ever want to walk down Istikal again.

In short, I'm miserable, and despite there being some good things, it feels as though most of this trip so far has just been one long string of things that I have to deal with or fix, even if I can't or shouldn't have to (or both). So far, I'm not entirely sure what I've gotten out of it except seeing how long I can last in conditions like this.

m.

Don't worry, I'm still alive. Also, bureaucracy sucks here.

[Please note: this is not going to be pretty. In the end, I like Turkey more than it's going to sound.]

I think most of my current issues can be wrapped up in five words: I want to go home.

I miss green. I miss natural things.

I also miss intellectual stimulation. While three of my classes are interesting (Disaster, Istanbul Architecture, and Design Studio), they really don't require any work outside of class.

Well, that's not quite true--I have models to build in Design Studio, but that's just once a week.

Arts & Culture (when we have class) involves visiting places, which I like, but we don't go anywhere out of the ordinary. And Graphic Design is a joke. Midterms are this week, and we've had four classes. For one of those, the professor didn't show up so the TA taught (which was fine, since she's far better than the prof), and for another, the he decided that even though the entire class is international, he'd give the lecture in Turkish.

In addition, the Turkish government has decided to make some changes in the transportation, which seems to involve removing ticket booths from some (that's right, only some) MetroBus stops, meaning the only way to ride is if you have a card. Which I don't have.

Since there was no warning (Monday morning, the metal booth had vanished), I've had to depend on the kind people who do have passes, and have been trying to get my own.

I tried to go to the IETT office today to get it, but it...wasn't there. I searched the entire area. No luck.

I am not enthused. In fact, I'm quite pissed.

On a different note: pictures.

The first group is some of the cats that frequent our garden. I've become friends with many of them, and most have names.

The second is of St. Anthony of Padua Church, on Istikal cadessi.

m.

Books that are not Harry Potter.

I love the Green brothers. They can usually keep me close to death with laughter (which is greatly appreciated about now), and Hank's newest song is no exception. It's even better than "Ranavalona" (which I enjoy primarily because of her name).

m.

It's about time....

I talked about a book.

In particular, Captain Corelli's Mandolin. I must admit, it's the first book I've read by Louis de Berniéres, but it certainly won't be the last.

Berniéres has a singular ability to convey exactly what he means in a relatively short number of words. He is succinct in a way few people, and even fewer authors, are.

Captain Corelli's Mandolin is about a great deal of things. Love, and war, and music, and betrayal are the most general themes. Most books containing those four elements would turn into a pathetic attempt at all four and failing on every count. But for some number of failures, there must be a success--and Berniéres is just that.

By objectively observing the characters he comes into contact with, Berniéres paints a unique portrait of not only the people of the island but of both Greeks and Greece. We come to understand the country, not as a place with lots of old buildings, but as a place that is as just as alive as any of the people who inhabit it. Berniéres makes Greece breathe, and become a legitimate character in the story.

What also makes it such a striking book, in my opinion, is that since we see everyone objectively as they tell their parts of the story and through other's eyes during their bits, we begin to understand them as if they were a part of our daily lives. Because of this, it becomes impossible to pigeon-hole any of them. We are presented with their thoughts, and other's opinions about them, and sometimes the reasoning for them, and their spoken words, and their actions, and if we're very lucky, sometimes their backstory, and with all of this information and the politics, Berniéres leaves it up to the reader to decide who and what everyone is.

m.

Awesome cover courtesy of amazon.com.

Paper Moons

Someone please tell me that this isn't the most involved (with the possible exception of OK GO) music video just about ever.

Paper R2D2!

m.

Let's talk about glasses.

Buddy Holly glasses, to be exact.

I'm a big fan. Well, in general, I'm a big fan. There are some people who simply can't wear them.

Proof:

[Dear Scarlett Johanson: I do not care how cool you think you look. In actuality, you look kind of stupid. Although I think your hair may have something to do with that.]

I madly love people who can pull off the real thing (or at least, something very, very close). I am also obscenely jealous of them.

[Chloe can pull of just about anything, Buddy Holly frames included. Almost single-handedly making geekiness the epitome of fashion.]

[And just think: James Franco looked great even without the glasses.]

[Paul Giamatti kind of rocks my world anyway. I mean, really--how many men can pull off having a chickpea for a soul?]

However.

I don't think there are enough people embracing the idea for whom it would actually work. If you can pull it off, why not? It's not like getting a tattoo--you're not stuck with one pair of glasses for the rest of your life (hey, my drawing teacher had at least four different frames that she would coordinate with her outfit every day).

So.

I would like to submit a list of people (okay, men) who could wear Buddy Holly glasses but don't.

[And guys, just so you know? Geeks are cool. Geeks make girls swoon. Geeks can be sexy. Sexier even than washboard abs. And I am not, trust me, on my own on this.]

[Matthew Morrison. He does wear glasses, but if you can, why not go all the way?]

[Robert Sean Leonard got close--see below--so I'm forced to ask: why not go back? Although preferably not to the 80's pseudo-Lennon frames.]

[Jim Parsons. Granted, given his character on The Big Bang Theory, it may just be too much geekiness for one world to handle if he wore them. Too bad.]

[And last, but most certainly not least, Colin Morgan. I mean, really. The guy has a face that was built for Buddy Holly frames.]

So guys, if you can:

Buy a sweater, a scarf, some converse, and some Buddy Holly frames. And then wear them.

Preferably to my door.

m.

Original man, original frames, found here.

Girl who should not be wearing these particular glasses or covering Tom Waits.

Chloe, just brilliant and wonderful all around in anything she does.

James Franco, you need to wear those when you're not shooting a movie.

Chickpea.

Imagine him doing "Maybe Baby" with the glasses.

Robert Sean Leonard, then and now. Good looking for the past 21 years.

"I think you have as much of a chance of having a sexual relationship with Penny as the Hubble Telescope does of discovering that in the center of every black hole, there's a little man with a flashlight searching for a circuit breaker."

If Colin Morgan were ever to show up at my door, with or without the glasses, he'd have to scrape me off the floor. Preferably after mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

Dear Sir: you would be so proud.

"Sir" here refers both to a man of distinction I would like to be respectful towards, and also Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

He would be so proud of what's been done. And no, there should be NO irony read in that statement.

Steven Moffat (of Doctor Who) and Mark Gatiss developed a show for BBC One entitled Sherlock.

Unlike most newer Holmes stories (Young Sherlock Holmes and Downey's Holmes, for example), Sherlock is set in 2010. Surprisingly, there isn't much that needs to be updated.

[Side Note: I do now have a minor issue. For my entire life, I've referred to the man by "Holmes," but now "Sherlock" seems to be how it's done, and I'm at a loss. So please, preemptively forgive my switching between the two, since I know I'm going to.]

Sherlock uses everything that's at his disposal, which now includes the internet (he has a bloody website), GPS, and a BlackBerry (which he never uses to call, only to text. Yes, Sherlock Holmes texts now. Although...even though he has a phone of his own, it seems he uses Watson's iPhone to do most of his texting). But he's still got his brain and over-inflated ego and relative lack of social skills.

Afghanistan is still relatively Afghanistan (history...repeating...), and Watson keeps a blog as opposed to a journal. The violin is still around, as is the fireplace (for some reason, it is vital that 221B Baker Street have a fireplace); Mrs. Hudson's not the housekeeper but the landlady, thank you very much; the pipe has been replaced with nicotine patches; Lestrade is now "Detective Inspector"; and 221 B Baker Street has, of course, not moved.

I am quite impressed with the cast they've gotten. Martin Freeman (Arthur Dent in Hitchhiker's Guide, and soon to be Bilbo in The Hobbit) is quietly brilliant as Watson. I must admit, it took me at least half an hour to be convinced that they cast the right man--he's just so damn normal. He is awed by Holmes, but still gets annoyed by him, and isn't afraid to call him out on some of the shit that he pulls. Freeman is, in essence, exactly what a guy would be who ended up living with the mastermind. There's an utter simplicity and honesty to his performance--zero overacting and amazing acting make him appear as if he's not acting at all. And then I remembered that often, the hardest parts to play are the most simple.

According to Moffat, Freeman "finds a sort of poetry in the ordinary man. I love the fastidious realism of everything he does."

Sadly, the first season only has three 90-minute episodes, courtesy of Steven Moffat, Stephen Thompson, and Steve Gatiss. Although it's updated, what they're interested in is telling stories the way Doyle did--fast as a handgun and irreverent as drawing mustaches on political posters. And of course, using his characters. I think Moffat said it well:

"Conan Doyle's stories were never about frock coats and gas light; they're about brilliant detection, dreadful villains and blood-curdling crimes--and frankly, to hell with crinoline. Other detectives have cases, Sherlock Holmes has adventures, and that's what matters."

However, the bulk of my praise must go to one place. Yes, the supporting actors are spot-on and the writing couldn't be much better, but if you don't have the man, you don't have anything:

Benedict Cumberbatch (I dare you to try to say it out loud four times without laughing, poor man) was born to play Sherlock Holmes, and I don't say that lightly.

Robert Downey, Jr. was an impressive Holmes; I enjoyed the movie well enough, and none of my complaints had to do with him. Rupert Everett, Jeremy Brett, and Matt Frewer were all good, too.

But you know how you can just look at Basil Rahbone and know he was born to play Sherlock Holmes? Cumberbatch is just like that.

Yes, he was good in Atonement and Amazing Grace, he's done plenty of Shakespeare for good companies, he's played Vincent van Gogh and Stephen Hawking.

But his Sherlock...his Sherlock is incandescent.

He is elegant and effortless, spouting minutes worth of observation at a speed that would impress the cast of West Wing.

All at once, you want to hate him, break his BlackBerry, punch him in the face, love him, call him a genius and an idiot, be him, and, of course, have the chance to best him, even though you never will.

m.

title image courtesy of http://tortsh-coed.livejournal.com/tag/bbc%20sherlock

Sherlock texting: http://aparejodefortuna.wordpress.com/

Moffat on Freeman from the DVD commentary of "A Study in Pink," but I lifted it from the wikipedia page.

Moffat on his general dislike of crinoline from http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00t4pgh

New Zealand

I do believe that I promised the link to the NZ website a while ago (okay, a very long time). Here it is. It has everyone's essays, along with lots of pictures.

I hope the link works--I can't access it due to Turkey's firewall (however, youtube now works. You would think I could read about my trip to New Zealand if I can watch youtube).

m.

Even bank robbers dance.

As proven by this lovely video, starring Zooey Deschanel & Joseph Gordon-Levitt. Music by She & Him.

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