my sassy bitch

i am trying so hard to train my little puppy to do some tricks for treats. she's got "sit" down pat. "lie down" is another one that she responds to as's meant. everything else is a battle, and she'll do it, but totally begrudgingly. fer instance, here's a little replay of our conversation today:

~k: sit.

[scarlet sits]

~k: lie down.

[scarlet lies down]

~k: good girl.

[scarlet gets tasty treat]

~k: roll over, roll over, roll over.

[k helps scarlet roll over and gives her a treat along with a lot of praise]

~k: sit. [scarlet sits]. good girl. lie down.

~scarlet: bark bark bark bark

[lies down while continuing to bark]

~k: [laughing] good girl. roll over.

~scarlet: bark bark bark bark, growl, bark bark

[k interprets this display of haughtiness as "fuck you, mom" and gives scarlet a treat for lying down as told (whilst laughing the whole time)].

- repeat the above six lines about five times before i gave up. and just as i was going through the last round of "roll over", scarlet stopped barking long enough to shake my hand before snatching the last treat out of my other hand.

gawd i love my sassy little bitch!

~k

baklava

i'm not much of a dessert kinda gal. i don't even want cake on my birthday (though i'll never push away a fat slice of pumpkin cheesecake), any of the sweets strewn about the tables at christmas parties, or peeps at easter time. and until two weeks ago, baklava was just another "eh" in the dessert world.

but in turkey, something changed. something major. baklava happened. the kind that's dipped in pistachio crumbs. omg! and it can't just be pistachios. after considering all options, i can only conclude that the turks make their baklava with crack, as i'm pretty sure the withdrawals i'm now going through are physical as much as mental...

~k

turkish hospitality

i've been stateside long enough to start to feel human again (still can't believe how hard it's been to recover from the jetlag), reflect all things turkey, and of all the things that stand out in my mind about that wonderful center of the world, it's the genuine hospitable nature of its people.

thanks to the truman national security project and the rumi forum, i was offered a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to visit real turkey (and unreal turkey). my small group of fellow truman fellows and i met with farmers and mayors, business leaders and parliamentary members, women leaders, think tankers, educators, journalists, and folks who run NGOs. we visited not just istanbul and ankara, but corners of turkey reaching as far as syria's border. we saw turkey from the inside out and the outside in. we talked about turkish culture, politics, national security, economics, EU membership, the kurds, the armenian problem, israel and iran, and the challenges it faces re: all of the above. and we did most of it whilst chowing down on turkish food, the deliciousness of which defies words.

to the turks, they are turks. turkey isn't in europe, it's not asia, it's not the middle east, but the bridge between all. and the turks we met, the ones from all walks of life, had one striking thing in common: a sincere desire to bring peace to its region and a legitimate belief that it is their responsiblity to do so. and in furtherance of their goal (see foreign minister ahmet davutoglu's "zero-problems" policy on international relations), they are building bridges.

if you listen to the american media, the story is 'turkey's newfound confidence,' 'turkey turning islamist east,' 'turkey and american relations strained as it votes no on u.n. sanctions against iran'.

but the real story is turkey as the bridge. the turks have as its immediate neighbors iran, iraq, syria, greece. instability in those countries impacts turkey's security, its economy, and its prosperity (its bustling economy expanded by more than 10% in the second quarter of this year, and has generally found itself exempted from the doldrums of the global recession). turkey has a rational self-interest in talking to iran - in extending a hand to iran ahmedinejad would be a fool to slap away, because sanctions over iran's nuclear program (a nuclear program no country fears more than turkey) spill over turkey's borders in the form of hungry refugees, crime, and greater regional instability.

turkey greatly values its relationship with america and wants to nurture its strong ties to the west (fighting for membership to the european union), but it also wants to do its part to stimulate greater stability in the middle east, to bridge religious and cultural divides, to increase tourism, and to be friends with all its neighbors.

with its infectious idealism, it's sincere hope for a peaceful future for the region and the world, its dedication to making that happen, not to mention its delectable food, wonderful people, and incredible history, turkey is a place for all the world's eyes to turn. because for anyone watching and listening, turkey is building bridges that can and should lead to greater dialogue, better foreign policy interaction, and ultimately a more peaceful, stable world.

~k

from paris

there is so much to say about turkey: politics, people, culture, hosptiality, that i got to scratch my first item from my bucket list. but i am in paris right now, blogging from an internet cafe on a french keyboard (whoa, hard!), and have more pressing things on my mind.

fer starters, why is the "a" key on the top line, where is the question mark, and why do i have to hit the shift key for the numbers? (found the question mark). the period, btw, also requires the shift key. this is hard.

i made it into paris this morning on an early flight from istanbul, spent an hour working my way through CDG, as france is on a high terror alert and i got stopped by the french army in two places (me and everyone else at the airport) so they could investigate suspicious packages, and then the RER train from the airport is under construction so i had to take a bus to the first working stop. long story short, it took two hours to get from my plane to my hotel, when it shoulda taken an hour max...

the good news is that i still love paris, and today was the most gorgeous day i have ever had in paris: warm, sunny, and as beautiful as any day could ever be, and that it is 10.10.10 is just neato. i've also had an easy time occupying my turkishly racing mind by trying to answer a question posed to me by mon amor. he asked me why i think paris is so romantic. so i spent the day observing my way to an answer, and came to this:

paris is a city where anything goes. in addition to being charming, old, beautiful, easy to get around, and full of history and light (at day and night), paris is a place where lovers just are. everywhere i look, people are holding hands, kissing, embracing for extended periods, and looking at each other with passion and affection. the energy those lovers put out into this wonderful city is both alluring and infectious. it makes me so happy i could cry, even when i am alone.

crazy thing is that i've never been anything but alone in paris. i have never been here with someone i love, and whilst there's always been a part of me that's regretted that, i am grateful today. because today i articulated for myself and my lover why it is that paris is so romantic, and how lucky for me that my first time in paris with someone i love will be with him. whenever that may be...

back to america tomorrow, where i will set out to capture all that was utterly fascinating about turkey...

for now, bon soir!

~k

peace out, peter pan

this may be one of those blog entries that gets me into trouble for speaking first here, for surprising someone i care about with some bit of info about me that i didn't warn them about first. so this time i'm going to start with the end.

there is nothing on earth i want more than the life my boyfriend is offering me: a house in the burbs of a small(er) city, complete with a long commute, another relocation, kids, soccer games, a station wagon (though i will cry the entire way to trading in my mini cooper), responsibilities out the ying yang, travel go lightly. and i want that life with him. more than anything.

but to choose that life means i have to give up the dream of the one i thought i wanted. and that part has been harder than i thought it would be.

more specifically, i saw an advertisement the other day for the management cone of the foreign service. had i started over with that process, i'd've chosen the management cone, as it's more in line with my experience to date, and would have been my in to that life i so ardently dreamed of leading. and it made me really, really, really sad. it also made me question whether or not i'm making the right choice for me (that question, for the record, took me less than half a second to answer in the affirmative). it made me realize, for maybe the first time, that that dream - that saving the world adventure life - isn't for me.

because it was a dream life. and i'm choosing a real life to share with a real person (a real person i love more than i ever thought possible), one i know will be full of a different kind of adventure, but an adventure nevertheless. when i close my eyes to try to catch glimpses of our future together, i like what i see: lots of laughing, plenty of tears, so much love and affection, sitting in his lap when we're in our 50's, making him laugh, him trying to cool my heels when i'm on the verge of a tantrum, exploring every inch of our city, and as much of the world as we can possibly squeeze in. and i love those glimpses.

even more than the ones i caught of my dream life.

which is why i know i've made the right choice.

the end.

~k

rolling through the motions

i'm lying in bed with my puppy, reflecting on the retarded day i've had, and trying to figure out how i'm going to spend my 22 hours in paris in a coupla weeks (we'll get to this in a minute).

today was one of those hazey days where i really do have to stop and ask myself whose life i'm living. as is typical for me, i had to claw my way out of bed, went through the usual morning routine (sans the clothes drama that typically robs me of half of the day's allotment of sanity), and blinked to find myself changing trains. i even took that metro paper the dudes pass out every morning. i didn't remember taking it, didn't look at it, but found it in my hand when someone was holding starbuck's door open for me even though i wasn't stopping there.

almost every morning i drop about three bucks at starbucks for an iced grande coffee in a venti cup with extra ice, but this morning i woke up with a scratchy throat so i planned to sip on green tea at the office all morning. but after the blink and wake at galleryplace to change trains, i blinked again to get out of the starbucks line. i'd love to blame it on a grand bout of daydreaming, but what about?

that it's yet again over 90 degrees in the district? that i'm not going to see my boyfriend for six weeks? that i was setting off to another day of utter hell at the day job?

i mean, i was granted the privilege of spending almost 12 hours at the office, for the second day in a row, wanting to tear my hair out. even landed myself a new project today, as though the fact that i'm already herding four fields of cats isn't enough. and now i'm fighting back my new favorite indoor sport of crying myself to sleep by thinking about my paris. and what i will do with those 22 hours...

~k

with my bitch en tow

i took miss scarlet home with me last weekend, and brought her back to the district with me this morning. on a plane.

o
m
g
!

first off, anyone who frequents these steps knows that my puppy is as bratty as her mommy. we are equally as cute, cuddly, fun, and pain in the ass. it's part of our charm. we embrace it with the same pizzazz. we are two peas in a pod.

but unlike miss scarlet, i don't cry, whine, bark, and act generally like a big asshole on an airplane. to be fair to her, though, i'm not stuffed into a little red box and pushed underneath the seat either. imagine my embarrassment at being the jackass with the screaming baby on the plane? and i couldn't hide it. those loud whines and barks were clearly coming from the bouncing red box underneath my seat.

fortunately, the flight attendants (both coming and going) took mercy on me, and allowed miss scarlet out of the little red box and onto my lap (where she squirmed, turned, and refused to let me sleep), with the caveat that i claim to any complaining passenger that i needed her in my lap for emotional support.

thing is, it wouldn't've been a lie. for her crying, whining, and barking was more stressful than any plane ride that gave me the jeebies.

and whilst i likely claim now that i'll never take her on the plane with me again, i'll be bettin' that anytime i go home to see my love or visit my family (which fortunately i get to do on the same trips) for more than a day or two, my bitch'll be en tow.

~k