aladdin

It looks like I might be going to Turkey. In June. For work.

Oh my, the brain doesn’t know whether to think of eisbeins or Persian carpets, but either way – I don’t think you quite understand how fucking excited I am now.

See this is how it works for me. The most amazing things in life (in order of preference):

1) Sex
2) Experiencing foreign countries
3) Food
4) Wine
5) Audi’s

Now because I’m currently not doing number 1) – strictly speaking…at least not with anyone else…that means Number 2) falls into first place. Because I figure, if it’s not happening, then might as well take it off the list and usurp number 1) with the next best thing – travel.

Some people get to mix travel and sex, and that’s a bigger bonus than a Credit Suisse’s executive annual payout. When the two merge, then you’re just about fucked, because you’ll forever remember that moment and only view things with disappointment for months after you return.
I wonder how many returning honeymooners, after endless shagging, champagne and siteseeing, need happy pills for when they return to normality.

But just on it’s own, travel gives me an orgasm. Whether I’m staying in a five star hotel (work), or a hostel dormitory with 14 other people (play). And getting to see a place like Istanbul, my God - I may have had some shoddy luck with relationships, but fuck, I certainly am so blessed to have the opportunities to see these different places.

I’m so bored with Johannesburg, it’s like my soul isn’t even here at the moment. I could platz, seriously.

Everyone seems to be talking about the same thing: getting married. I can’t even imagine what that’s like, on any level, at all. It must be nice, since everyone seems to only talk about that subject. I’m sure it’s fabulous, the joy must be intense.

But understand that when I say I need to get out of here and take a break, I really fucking mean it.

When half these folks throw a divorce party five years from now, I don’t know if I’ll be able to relate to that either.
Make no mistkae, I really do love weddings. They’re full of love, a good party and the bride always looks exquisite. I just feel somewhat removed from the topic du jour. Being a bridesmaid bought me closer to it, definitely. I enjoyed being part of a bridal party, especially with a couple who love each other so much.

And so you can imagine how excited I am to go to Turkey. I never saw myself going to Turkey. Much like Israel – they were maybe 40th on my list. Near Zimbabwe and Tallahassee, Florida.

I don’t know much about Istanbul, only one thing springs to mind. My favourite author Bill Bryson (I love you Bill. Call me), wrote a line about Istanbul once, in his Neither Here Nor There novel.
It’s descriptory, in just the right way:

The one truly unbearable thing in [the] city is the Turkish pop music. It is inescapable. It assaults you from every doorway, from every lemonade stand, from every passing cab.
If you can imagine a man having a vasectomy without anaesthetic to a background accompaniment of frantic sitar-playing, you will have some idea of what it’s like.

Shit that’s exciting.

You’re a card Bill. Let’s get it on and then marry in Vegas. But if that is not to be, then I’ll just take the travelling. If that’s what the Universe is giving to me instead.

And mates like Dove who purposefully wear skinny jeans and hightop All Stars to my house for dinner. Because she knows how I’ll react.

She does it everytime.