The times, they are a changin' (I have heard that song, I'm no Ron Burgundy. Milk is ALWAYS a bad choice).

The ball got rolling.

I got a job.

And it's really a story. I hate drama, in general, but this is a whole story. I was offered a job from the one place where the interview made me feel nauseous, like I wanted to jump out of the window, and where I never wanted to return. The people were lovely. But everything went wrong, and out of desperation, I verbally accepted it. The next day, my practicum site called and offered me a job. I was calling professors, my dad, pacing. After many shaky voiced and adrenaline fueled phone calls, I took the ideal, close to where I live, well paying, *goal* job. I then lay in child's pose on the floor for ten minutes (not an exaggeration). Then sushi and saki was had at Musashino, the absolute best sushi joint in Austin.

And I'm working that job. It is hugely scary. My heart beats so fast sometimes it makes me cough. Everyone is so nice, but I dream that I'm at an ARD and my report isn't done. Or that someone questions my lack of licensure. This is the deal.

Not that this is actually secondary, but I'm also engaged to be married. This was a slow process. There was asking, and then slowly, telling people. Not surprisingly, I feel almost embarrassed with this news. I'm so excited, but Murat and I are so private and have our own little world that silly traditions like "congratulations" and wedding planning seem silly. It's like we have to join the rest of the crazy world and get a ring and a date and we are bewildered. I'm excited, yes.

I have to choose bridesmaids.

Having been a bridesmaid, I have always had a good time. It's an honor and it really makes you feel a part of the wedding. I have also counted the number of girls I should have and it's like 10. I need to whiddle it down big time, considering we want to keep this wedding small (being the attention whores everyone knows we are). My plan is to have bridesmaids. I considered not having them, so as not to deal with the veritable ranking of my friends and family (nightmare) but I'm probably going to regret that. Murat was freaked out when I declared that they would not wear "uniforms." He demanded that matching females attend us at our nuptials. Alarmed, I made him a gin and tonic and assured him that we would find a way. My compromise is to do bridesmaid "fun packs" (free shit, pedicures, etc) to all the special ladies, but only require approved dress of like 6 of them. I mean, hell.

So here we are. I have a terrifying new job and a terrifying new wedding to plan. I use the word "terrifying" to encompass exciting, ego-boosting and endorphine- inducing. As well as straight scary.

I'm back!

It's been an interesting week. Murat and I have been together (offcially) for three years now. We celebrated at Truluck's, and all was delicious. If i can have crabcakes, scottish salmon and a literal bag of chocolate filled with cake and berries ever year for the rest of forever, I'm in. Plus, I find that any bottle of wine ordered and poured at a restaurant is better than anything I do at home. I have literally gotten the name and tracked wine down at Spec's that always tastes like stale Chardonnay. No offense to Specs, as you are my happy place, but it makes the fancy nights out so much better. It also didn't suck that I used the occasion to splurge on a dress from Anthropologie (Relax! It was heavily discounted!). Murat also brought me roses from work (he looked for calla lilies and failed- but kirmizi cicekler seviyorum) and reached into his pocket to reveal- get this- a sugar free Red Bull (one of the many components of my soul). I know that he isn't going to give me a ring, because I hate diamonds and the responsibility of wearing expensive shit on my hands- but there was something hilarious about this gesture on our third anniversary. I of course gave him a bird coloring book.

I have been reading "Eat, Pray, Love" because it's the law. Honestly, this book is much less chick- lit and much more me than I could have asked for. It is the book I would love to write someday (damn, it's taken). I feel like I am a very different person from the author, but that I could not be more similar. The description of herself as a traveler is pretty apt (awkward, a sore thumb, but ok with it). It's a good book to read if you are having any kind of uncertainty in your life, because the point of the book, to me, is that everything is a choice, and you really actually can do whatever the hell you want. If I didn't remind myself of that, I would be miserable forever. I am still at the part where she is in Italy, trying to experience pleasure at its most potent. I feel like I have that down. I get sparkling wine and hors' deurves to celebrate small victories (another 4.0, Turkey winning some kind of soccer game, etc) and I sing, loudly, in the car whenever the occasion presents itself. I also indulge in a hot bath whenever I feel the whim. The rest of the book concerns devotion and discipline- and whoops, I am not so good at those. :).

I think I would make a great masseuse. What do you think? If you could pick a career for me.... what might it be?

Oscar smells like lamb today.

I have returned to the blog.

I should have written more in the last few weeks. It was a dense time.

I finished my classes, which was extremely anticlimatic. I felt a little too comfortable and it seemed like I was just coming to class out of politenesses. School has changed for me, from my occupation to an afterthought. I have changed a lot since I started the program, and I'm motivated by much different things. I used to be obsessed with the grades I earned and the Dean's List certificates, but I've become so weird about that. I think I'm permanently affected by this Counseling course we took where we discussed faulty thinking in clients: "If I get a B, I suck." When I realized this was not the case, and I could do whatever the hell I wanted in graduate school and still kick ass at my job, well, you can imagine the change that went on. I like this change in attitude- once I stop evaluating myself and everyone else in the world, I am much more mellow and seriously happier. Anyway, I still don't have a job, but again- I'm not willing to move, so if a job doesn't come to me, well the mountain isn't exactly going to Mohammed. Zen, Zen, Zen.

Murat took me to Turkey, which was kind of a perfect trip. It was part vacation, part immersion lesson. Not everyone gets to go to another country and stay with great people and go to events as well as spend a few days at a resort on the Aegean. I'm lucky. I realized again how verbal I am and how important words are to me, because of course, I don't know much Turkish and listened to a whole hell of a lot of it, being around a family all the time. Even though i know full well how long it takes a person to really know a language and that I'm working on it, I was really hard on myself for not knowing more. Plus I think I have to learn. It's not so much a loving gesture from me as it is a prerequisite that I at least attempt to master some skills, from what I gather. I mean, it makes things interesting, right? Murat deals with my family's ridiculous vacations where we basically break the law for a weekend, and he's pretty patient with my occasional insanity. Anyway, I ate meat there and do not want any more. Do you remember the part of "My Big Fat Greek Wedding?" where the guy told his Greek girlfriend's aunt that he was a vegetarian, and the woman said "WHATCHOO MEAN YOU DON'T EAT NO MEAT!?" before calming herself down and saying "It's O.k. I make lamb."

Well, sorry, Greek and Turks- but that movie... it speaks to me. Your cultures are just not that different. Long story short, I was going to eat meat over there. I ate the lamb and it was fucking delicious. Luckily, I was still on my meat streak on the way home and ate an ill-advised chicken salad sandwich containing an unfortunate bone- reminding me that that is not how I want to roll in the States. I ate about a pound of tofu at Whole Foods today and it felt so right.

Anyway, I want to blog more frequently. Because I am not 13 and I can't keep a diary.

#1

I have tried so many times to start a blog, so now I have one. I'm really disappointed with the fact that the more educated I get, the less I read. I do not want to become an automaton LSSP with no imagination. I have all kinds of thoughts during my long commute, and I just lose them. I've been so busy lately that I feel like I lose everything. It's the Issue of the 20- something, I think. Every single thing I do is about the future, so I neglect the present. I don't make my bed because we're just going to get back in it. My laundry goes from the hamper, to the washer, to the dryer, to the laundry basket and then back on my body. Everything is temporary, and I am scrambling to set myself up for life with an education, a career and a family. I totally resent that. I want to stop that. I find that things are so hectic, that I am absolutely forced to enjoy random things, like the Niacin flush of a 5- hour energy shot or a hot bath. Right now I have New Moon playing on my DVD player because I find it soothing. I'm under so much pressure from so many places that I resent that feeling and seek very basic pleasures and modes of relaxation. Glass of wine and Chelsea Lately. I just wish I had it in me to read a real book. I hate when people say that it just gets worse. We can control that, right? For instance, when I have kids, I don't just want to give myself to them. I want to show them how to live, not be their servant. I don't want to lose myself in responsibilities.

So, I'm a bit of a whiner.