the id, the ego, & the single misfiring brain cell

Most people cannot hope to compete with the excitement that is my life. I managed to leave the house three times this weekend (four if you count Friday evening).

In order for you to appreciate this, you must first understand that, despite my apparent gregariousness, I'm a solitary person. I can spend hours--nay, days--alone with my computer and my books. I've been known, even on the perfect Colorado summer day in a perfect home and friends nearby, to quite happily* sit in front of my computer all day and half the night.

* And sometimes unhappily.

That's part of why I blog. It's my cry for help.

Friday night, I met Özgür for my weekly ass-kicking at backgammon, a game known here as "tavla." With little or no provocation, he delivered.

In my own defense, I did not teethe on backgammon pieces like the Turks do. Also, I may be getting ahead of myself, but I've begun to make my move and even though he explains that it was not the best move, I simply take his advice for future reference, but keep my move. Sometimes, suffering is the best way to mastery.*

* What do I mean "sometimes"? Always.

Saturday morning, I met a friend (Aaron) at the ferry for a bicycle ride. Our plan was to start across the bay at Bastanli and do the ~23k trip to the zoo and back. There's an actual bicycle path and it's nice terrain. It was to be a leisurely, enjoyable ride.

It was most enjoyable, but not leisurely, and not 23k. Before we'd pedaled out of Kars(h)iyaka, a Turk joined us and struck up a conversation with Aaron. It seems he (Cem, pronounced "Jim") rides out here all the time and he had some awesome routes to show us, if we wanted to join him. So we did.

Two and a half hours later, we split off from Cem to grab some food before I bonked. By the end of the day, I'd ridden 43.8 miles, and I think Aaron went farther, because he doesn't live practically on top of the Konak ferry like I do. Needless to say, by the time I got into my front door, I dragged my salt-crusted carcass to the shower, cleaned it, then passed out on the couch, happy as a half-dead clam.

I woke a couple of hours later and returned a call from Damon, a new colleague in our section and already a good friend. Kaz (one of our senior NCOs) was doing a Cinco de Mayo party just for an excuse to cook some food, try out his marguerita skills, and eat mayonnaise.

So I walked down to their area and popped in for some good chili and margueritas that were good but a mite heavy on the tequila. We had music and a fun view down the pubs on the street below, and we had a good time. I left when I got tired. Aaron was there and insisted that I take a taxi home instead of walking "in the dark" (even though it was still quite early, to be frank, and there is more than enough illumination on my route), so I promised I would.

Like I needed an excuse to be lazier.

The next day, I was supposed to meet Bahar (carpet lady!) to go to a hamam (Turkish bath house), but had decided against this after discussing the hamam experience at the party with one of our new master sergeants, who had already done it. I had a fresh sunburn (coupled with a sizeable section on my leg where I scalded myself with ramen, of all things, which has only begun to recover from the blisters), and Mary strongly advised I go to the hamam when I am not sunburned.

Let the record show that I accepted advice twice in one day.

So Sunday, I woke up and read for a couple of hours,* then forced myself to dress decently and go streetwalking.**

* Dave, for your recommendation that I read A Game of Thrones, damn you. Damn you to the seven hells.

** Like there's anywhere else to walk here.

I descended from my seat of power, high above the bay, to the Kameralti and went to see a friend who has been helping us get someone to make some t-shirts for International Day. I've never heard of International Day before, but it's apparently a NATO thing, and it's a huge deal. All represented nations in the area get together and find ways to represent their culture, from dress and music and dance to games and food. It's coming up in June, and I'm helping with the t-shirt bit.

At this point, however, I'm the only one pursuing the t-shirt bit, as my cohorts in crime are either TDY in Italy or in the States on leave right now. And who's left holding the undecided bag? Yeah. The woman who hates to shop. I swear, this t-shirt thing is more work than work is for me.

So I popped into Char's (spelling incorrect, but pronunciation accurate) place of business, and there I found...Atil, an old friend I've fallen out of touch with. I already knew Char's wife is expecting (a girl), but it turns out Atil's wife is due in August (also a girl). Atil said, "It's because I'm all the man she needs." :D

I've missed him. I need to be better at keeping in touch with my friends. I really suck at it.

He and Char started talking smack about being backgammon (tavla) masters, so they made a wager and brought in a board. Thus it was that I got my first up-close view of a speed-gammon match. It was great fun. I understand some Turkish just by virtue of listening to it all the time, plus they switched between English and Turkish fairly regularly. They did not stop talking smack.

After this, I went out for some food, and Char recommended I try a pide from the local place. The cook was only there for three days, on his way to Bodrum, and had told Char that once he tasted his pide, he'd never forget him. Apparently, his pide did make a huge impression, because he recommended it to me. It was delicious, I admit. It was basically a Turkish pizza, with a very thin crust made before your eyes before it is slathered with sauce, meat, and cheese and shoveled into a stone oven. It was a brilliant dish, and it put me back 9TL (that's, um, less than $6).

I left soon after that, but paused in the market to buy a half-kilo of erik, which is a Turkish green plum. It's served wet with rock salt sprinkled on it. Crunchy, tangy, not sweet. I like them. And so, I ascended to my home, happy and full as a tick.

It was a good weekend.

d