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May 31, 2003

Dr. Demet was cute, but she's no Noah Wylie

Food poisoning, it's bad. Very. Definitely not going to All-Turkish-Cooking-Weekend on the beach. Duration of sitting-upright ability almost expired.

Oh, and if you do eat something riddled with infectious bacteria, we recommend you don't also drink a little too much wine. Not real compatible, that.

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May 29, 2003

Our other Johns

So, only two days after whining that Girl-E is falling down on her duties as a supposed crazed John Cusack fan, the Cusack for President campaign has called it quits, thereby relieving her of any future duties as Block Captain, not that she ever did a damn thing anyway. Apparently, The Big Guy asked the campaign to stop, and so they're respecting his wishes. It's a shame, too, because people (not Girl-E, the slacker) were doing community service projects in his name to win awards from the campaign organizers. At least she has the campaign t-shirt (a silouette of John holding a giant boombox above his head, superimposed onto a picture of the White House) to remind her of the service projects she never did.

So now as 2004 rolls around, she has to actually come out of la-la land and decide for real which John to support. Kerry? Edwards? It feels a bit bleak.

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May 28, 2003

This episode directed by Clint Eastwood

Faced with a crappy job market back home upon her return in July, Girl-E has resigned her anal self to the fact that any serious Boston job searching from Turkey is pointless, as few hiring managers will be likely to run around the office halls with her resume flying through the air, proclaiming "I know we want to fill this position ASAP, and we have over a hundred applicants, but this girl who lives 10,000 miles away and who we can't interview until July looks really good, I think we should wait for her. In fact, let's start decorating her office." However, she has made a few select contacts to whom she has been referred by friends and colleagues, and after a phone interview two weeks ago, the organization that she is most monumentally psyched about seems, curiously, to be at least nearly as psyched about her. She got an incredibly positive email from the CEO yesterday, which had a definite recruitment versus polite tone about about it, as if he is afraid of her slipping through the cracks before the summer. So naturally, she is feeling pretty fly.

Much to her dismay, the fact of living abroad this year is making it impossible for Girl-E to return next weekend for her fifth college reunion, at a school where Reunions are feverishly anticipated and are Budweiser's single largest annual order. She had long ago come to terms with this disappointment, until yesterday, when the music director of the single coolest soul band (well, only soul band, but they were cool) of her college days emailed her to say they were down a back up singer for their Reunion show and would she by chance be around to fill in. While this may sound like an event that could be filed under The Good, Girl-E has never really been down with it being an honor just to be nominated. In most situations she wants the goods themselves, and this would have been a serious highlight in the little corner of her life she humorously calls her singing career. It doesn't matter if she was the twelfth person they asked, the unexpectedness of being someone deemed cool enough for this particular assignment and the absolute inability to fulfill it is a recipe for grief.

The key players in Girl-E's day today were a sociopathic child, three bottles of liquid glue stolen from another teacher, and a sharpener full of pencil shavings. It is this sort of thing that gives The Good, above, its extra special sparkle.

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May 26, 2003

Futbol Fun!

Good morning children! Today we're going to talk about going to soccer games in Istanbul. Do you like soccer? We thought you did! But watching soccer isn't just for any weak little pansy like Mehmet down the street, it's for strong people who know what they're about. So, next time your daddy takes you to the local futbol match, try to remember the following lesson and you'll have a really swell time!

1) Failure to wear officially licensed apparel of your favorite team is a very big no-no. Just the approximate colors won't do at all. If you don't have your team's hat and/or jersey, don't worry, Daddy will not mind spending a little bit of the rent money on something so important.

2) Don't interrupt Daddy when he is screaming instructions and insults at the players; if you accidentally startle him, that vein in his neck might clot and/or burst. And even if you can't tell from way up in the stands, the players in the field are in fact hearing, processing, and acting on each and every word he says. Don't hesitate to offer some of your own advice, you play soccer in the alley with your friends, your opinion counts too.

3) Watch how Daddy and his friends give the referee two middle fingers, not just one.

4) As soon as you get to the stadium, be sure to purchase at least six bottles of water. You may get very thirsty from screaming, and you need at least three bottles to hurl onto the field when the players have an argument. And if you hit the opposing goalie on the head and make him fall flat on the grass, everyone will laugh, and Daddy will be so very proud of you!

5) If the opposing team comes from a region with known terrorist activity, remember that the players themselves are terrorists. It is the duty of all fans in attendance to remind them of this frequently, so they know they can't get away with any funny business.

6) Don't be afraid of the police in riot gear. The crowd is very big, and they'll never know it's you who splattered an egg on their bullet-proof shields.

7) If you can't decide which team should be your favorite, just ask Daddy, your grandfather, your big brother, and all your uncles, and there you'll have it. But don't ask Mommy's brother Kemal, he's a good-for-nothing and a Besiktas fan.

8) It is extremely important to ask every adult with whom you come in contact which team they support. Their answer is the only indicator you will have as to how seriously you should take their authority. For example, if your English teacher says it doesn't really matter to her which six teams make it into the European cup and she's more interested in baseball, whatever the hell that is, you have no obligation to follow any direction she might ever give you for the duration of your contact with her.

So that's it, kids, have fun and practice that guttural shrieking!

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May 23, 2003

Spontaneity has its time and its place.

Pangs of guilt have been twitching through Girl-E lately. See, it's a widely known fact that since the age of eight, Girl-E has harbored an acute obsession with anything and everything related to John Cusack. Her life was forever altered upon seeing Rob Reiner's The Sure Thing in the theater in 1985, and there is not a day goes by that she doesn't feel the highest gratitude towards her parents for their lack of cinematic restriction. She actually wore through her first copy of the movie on VHS, and is now afraid to watch the second copy more than twice a year, for fear of killing it and then learning there is no DVD. Watching any Cusack film, even a crappy one, gives her a strange high that she's fairly sure no controlled substance could match; The Sure Thing was merely the steppingstone drug. To this day, friends from junior high will email her to say "you know, I heard 'In Your Eyes' this afternoon and I thought of you." It's part of her identity, as much as having blonde hair and an unusually low singing voice.

Which is where we get to the guilt. Having always considered herself John's Number One Fan, she acknowledges that she has been more than just a little negligent in her duties lately. Not only did someone else entirely come up with the Cusack For President campaign, but Girl-E has done nothing to speak of in her role as Block Captain. She even bagged out of the conference call last April to go to a (non-Cusack) movie. She hasn't seen Serendipity, and it was just three weeks ago that she rented Pushing Tin. Now, ask her about the 80s-early 90s Cusack filmography, and there's no truer soul. She can name even his cameo parts in Sixteen Candles and The Journey of Natty Gann. But from Con-Air on out, it's been a bit bumpy. She's even admitted that Jack Black and the film soundtrack share some small part of the credit for the greatness of High Fidelity. She isn't quite sure what happened, although she recalls the feelings of pain and betrayal that surfaced when during senior year in college, an article appeared in the weekly newspaper written by a girl who devoted a full-page spread to her own obsession with the Nicest Guy in Hollywood. Perhaps it was the internal screams of "That should be ME!" combined with the totally separate remorse of having ditched her ambitions in journalism that began to sour the whole thing.

Girl-E used to convince herself that pure animal attraction had nothing to do with the relationship, that there was a true cosmic joint between their souls. She has to backpedal on this a tad, for there is no denying that while Being John Malkovich is one of her favorite movies ever, this fact is due to many things wholly unrelated to Cusack's starring role. Because let's face it, he was butt-heinous in that film. But either way, John has a grip on Girl-E's being that no merely fantastic-looking star has ever managed. So the fact that she has not been substantively acting on these feelings as a truly devoted fan is causing some angst and regret.

One could argue that perhaps it is because she is a well-adjusted human being with an otherwise fulfilling life, and she should be happy that she doesn't waste her life stalking movie stars. But that doesn't really satisfy her; as a child, she was always grumpy and envious that she didn't have a Binky that she took everywhere, or a stuffed animal that she couldn't sleep without. She tried to be a needy child, but would end up forgetting about the Binky and leaving it on the playground, or chucking the stuffed animal across the room in the middle of the night. No amount of prattling on about her healthy level of self-esteem could cheer her up on this point.

So, if anyone has any ideas for how she can pull herself out of this rut and become the creepy, compulsive Cusack fan she knows she is deep-down, please let us know, and we'll slip her a message. Because the grief she is suffering from her indifference is becoming tiresome.

Posted by The Twins at 09:09 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

May 21, 2003

What she said

Because we couldn't have said it better, and we're too tired to try, we urge you to read this bit from Hilatron to get a frightingly accurate sense of how Girl-E and pretty much all of her close friends are going through life these days. All except Girl-C that is, who come August will be officially leaving the ranks of directionless 27-year-olds, bless her soul.

Posted by The Twins at 12:33 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

May 20, 2003

We deserve a lot of tat for what we've got to give

So. Groggy. Circadian rhythm stopped. Sweet memory of weekend's friend sightings and constant bacon consumption only thing keeping us alive. Nighty night.

Posted by The Twins at 11:52 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

May 14, 2003

After these messages...

So, tomorrow morning we join Girl-E on her "oh, we're just hopping across the pond" crazyfest described below. We considered not saying anything more about our departure, hoping that like Julia, we would get dozens of comments from readers distressed at our absence, aching for our return. But then we remembered we are not nearly as popular as she is, and we're just insecure enough to fear that someone will think we don't update enough and stop visiting. So, unless we get inspired at the Ambassador's Lounge in one of the five airports we will be visiting twice each in the next five days, you won't hear from us for a small spell. We hope your week is fulfilling in every other way.

L & R

p.s. We totally suck, and just accidentally deleted the post below and hence Jess and VG's comments. Here we are, hoping for dozens, and we go and 86 the two we got. Anyway, just know they were witty and insightful, so sorry girls.

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Pant, pant, pant

Of the 2,190 days between 1984-1989, Girl-E spent approximately 1,700 of them filling out self-addressed entry postcards for the Nickelodeon Toys R Us 60-second dash contest. You know, where one supremely lucky child gets to run an empty shopping cart around Geoffrey's paradise dumping in anything they can possibly get their hands on, all while being filmed live for the greatest television network ever. During this time period, her happiness essentially rested on her chances of A) getting in the Guinness Book of World Records for most Cabbage Patch Kids owned by one kid ever, and B) having her own Nintendo so she could practice enough to overcome her innate lack of video game skill and beat that little bragger Tara at SMB. Toward this end, she would time herself running around her room with her Radio Flyer*, scooping up as many of her Barbies, My Little Ponies, Pound Puppies, &c &c, as she could possibly capture. She didn't realize that her luck had been spent after those three straight days when she and her parents filled out 200 postcards in all of their names for tickets to the 1984 National League Playoffs, and hers actually won. The Padres' defeat of the Cubs** that year was a highlight of her youth, but in her secret heart of hearts it didn't take the place of meeting Kevin Kubusheskie*** in person.

We bring this up because the quick reflexes and time management skills developed during those years of training may well come in handy this coming weekend.

Her itinerary: fly from Istanbul to London Thursday morning with cats, have lunch with college friend in Heathrow during 5 hour layover, fly to Boston, collect cats from baggage and customs, take cats to in-laws', go to see foxy friend's band, drink few beers, regurgitate line several dozen times about how Turkey is amazing but she will be ready to come home, return to in-laws' to settle in freaked-out jet-lagged cats and sleep, wake up at o-crack-hundred Friday morning for 6:30 flight, layover in Pittsburgh, fly to San Diego, pick up rental car, go to uncle's house, kiss uncle and mom, nap, look pretty, go to friend's wedding rehearsal, go to rehearsal dinner, go to fancy after-rehearsal-dinner hotel-penthouse party, try not to drink too much because of rental car, return to uncle's, sleep, wake up on Saturday, blow-dry hair for requisite pre-updo straightening purposes, go to friend's house, look pretty again, rehearse Shania Twain **** ballad with string quartet for 10 minutes, sing said ballad, attend to friend's bridal needs, cry hysterically, fix makeup, party like she just don't care, try not to drink too much because of rental car -or- plead with elated bride friend for floor space, drive home -or- collapse on said floor space, wake up Sunday, visit other friend's super adorable baby, visit yet another friend whom she hasn't seen since high school, hang out with mom and uncle, wake up at o-crack-thirty for flight to Boston via layover in Pittsburgh, meet friend for drink at Sam Adams pub in Boston airport, fly to London for slightly less ungodly long layover, land in Istanbul at 4:30 Tuesday afternoon, have deluded nightmares about Wednesday morning half-dead confrontation with evil 7-year-old students, in which she uses a stolen airline blanket to smother the girl who wrote the note today saying she's stupid and she has a big butt.

She'll try to call you when she's in town, she's sure she'll have a few minutes for a beer.

*She didn't actually have a radio flyer, but it makes for much better prose.
**Edit from previous misinformation; Girl-E's mother reminds us that the Padres defeated the Cubs in the 1984 Playoffs, but were then crushed by the Tigers in the World Series.
***25 points and special mention in Boo-Blog if you know who this is.
****Yes, that's what we said.

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May 09, 2003

Whatever you do, don't panic

Ok, we fear that the previous post implied a rigid definition of right and wrong that has provoked an unintended amount of doubt and confusion. First, for the specifics: we were applying a most classic definition of knee-length skirt, meaning straight and movement-free. The same goes for the flats-- we had brown, leather, unadorned, on the brain. Fun, satiny slippers were not on our radar. It just goes to show you, context is everything, and there are exceptions to every rule.

We must also apologize to our male readers, if there are any remaining -- we have to assume that the majority of you had reactions to the previous post not unlike The Dude's, which was a furrowed brow followed by a head shake and a prompt jump to another website. We try to make this A Blog For Everyone, but if our entries are occasionally a bit estrogen-laden, we can only say that it is, after all, the essence of our nature, and please excuse us and check back tomorrow.

addendum: We said this in the comments, but it's worth adding here. We really do think Wal-Mart sucks for pulling those men's magazines, we totally love Maxim. We were hooked when they did the spread on Melissa Joan Hart with the headline, "Burn, you incredibly hot witch, BURN!"

Posted by The Twins at 02:56 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

May 07, 2003

Lift me up, Oh Lord

The opportunity to live in another country is a truly eye-opening experience. Other cultures are really very interesting. For example, Turkey has this fascinating fashion quirk in which it is considered perfectly okay to wear a knee-length skirt with flats. Even the most hip and trendy among them do it, it's just ever so quaint. While Girl-E has been a mere observer of this anthropological phenomenon for months, circumstances of weather, color coordination, and clean laundry availability led her to actually engage in this custom today.

This cultural immersion evoked a sensation not unlike the experience of getting cornrows in your hair on the family vacation to St. Maarten - you are proud of your adoption of local custom, and yet you know there is just something not quite right.

And, like the feeling that "surely it must be okay to wear a muu-muu if I'm in Hawaii," there is no denying the sheer physical comfort of the situation. But nevertheless, she cannot help longing for some elevation as she catches her utterly grounded reflection in the sliding glass doors.

We hope this does not cause another vanity-induced nightmare. We can just see it, Girl-E running, albeit with ease, from a mob of platform-clad fashion police shouting "Hold it right there, stumpy!"

Let's also hope she doesn't overcompensate tomorrow with the even more puzzling local acceptance of jeans with heels. We're on watch.

Posted by The Twins at 07:20 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

May 03, 2003

This announcement is not coming to you from an aircraft carrier

We hope you will join our celebration as we declare May 3, 2003 the first ever National Adjective Day. It has recently occurred to us that adjectives make the world go 'round. As case in point, please note the appeal of the following phrases:

moist towelette
frosty beverage
fuzzy bunny
sweet love
slow-roasted brisket
vengeful spouse
nasty scrape
witty repartee
pickled accompaniments

And let us not forget the invaluable contributions of those comparatives and superlatives, either. I mean, why say, "You're so stupid," when you could say, "Could you be any stupider?" And we can't tell you how many times we'd be lost without the phrases "Isn't that the damnedest thing?" and "biggest bitch EVER!".

So please, today and every May 3rd to follow, please try to use an adjective in each and every brilliant (see how it works?) sentence you utter.

And yes, we see now that National Adjective Day spells NAD, could you be any more immature?

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