public transportation part one

once upon a time when i was a young highschooler (age 15-16) i participated in varsity volleyball for my highschool in turkey, "the Hodjas". as a ""Hodja" we got to travel around the country to compete for finals which were held in Germany. The Hodjas were unbeatable. every serve was unvolley-able and we went to germany for finals. while in Germany we got the chance to sight see around the town we were staying in, Heidelberg. To get around we had to navigate the local bus system in German both of which i am unfamiliar. well a teammate and i got on the bus infront of the hostel and went downtown. we had a grand time walking around and shopping and looking at the artisans works in the square. towards dusk we decided to go back to rest and meet up with the rest of the team so we headed back to the bus center and waited until we saw our number enter the hub. we got on and chatted away, an hour or so later we noticed that we were not heading towards the hostel and not in the city of heidelburg at all but were out in the hilly countryside, at night, in a country where we didnt speak the language and were terribly lost and a little nervous. we tried communicating to the driver that we were trying to get to the hostel, which was near the heidelburg zoo and asked him if he was going that way. he said yes and motioned for us to be seated. so we sat and waited and watched with wide eyes at the darkening countryside on the otherside of our window, time went by and the bus made more and more stops that didnt look familiar, we wondered if we would ever get back. were we going the right direction? would we be kidnapped and die out here or sold to a german farmer as laborers? another hour later we neared the area where we were staying and felt relief rush through our limbs. our stop appeared in the buses headlights and we exited thanking the driver in german as we ran down the road towards the hostel. we broke curfew that night and got lost in a foreign country. but i'm better for the wear; alot more careful and observant about the trains, buses, stops, subways, and taxis that i take.

that was the first time i had ever ridden public transportation.

the pumpkin and other halloween tales

ok this isnt really a story but a memory none the less.

there is a picture of my little sister and my dad on Halloween when we lived in las vegas. michelle looks about 3 or 4 years old and she is at the dinner table in her feety pajamas with my father and a freshly opened pumpkin. she is staring in terror with her hands over her mouth as dad is scooping out the seeds and fibers. i'm not sure if she thinks he just killed the pumpkin and is now removing his brains or if she is just grossed out my the gooey mess, but the picture is fantastic and makes me laugh every time i see it.

i will find it and paste it here later so that you may enjoy it as well.

i used to love halloween, i loved playing dress up. my most memorable costumes are as follows:
1. witch
2. black widow spider
3. fairy on a toad stool
4. belly dancer
5. fortune telling gypsy
6. frida kahlo
have i mentioned witch? i loved being a witch

anyways when i was young mom and dad would create my costumes and the the year that i was a fairy on a toad stool (i remember just being a mushroom but mom tells me other wise) was the best. my legs were the mushrooms stem, and my torso emerged from the cap with little legs attached as if they were my own. there were big brown felt circles on the cap like the discoloration on real mushrooms. i loved this costume, the only problem that we did not forsee is that the stem was only wide enough for me to take very small quick steps to get around. i remember some one inviting me upstairs for candy and the only way i could think to get to the top was to hop up each stair. well, they let me hop for a few steps but ended up bringing the basket of sweets down to me, i had to be carried back down the stairs after that. but, lessoned learned right? if youre a mushroom for halloween, make sure you have two stems!!

:)

shrimp-o-phobia

when i was a young dumpling child my grandfather had a house on the sound. during the summer he would invite my family up to the cabin and go sailing, crabbing and clam digging. well picture this with me. i am a little girl with short tangled black hair and bangs and i am digging a hole, not particularly after clams but just a hole that keeps filling up with opaque sandy water when i see something surface briefly and sink back down into the hole. excited that i have found something i plunge my hand into the hole and bring up a fistful of mud and water. the muddy water sifts through my fingers revealing a pregnant shrimp, at the sight of which i am so repulsed and terrified that i tremble a bit before tossing the shrimp upward in my outstretched hand exclaiming Ah AH AAAHHH! it falls back into the hole and i run into the sound to wash the memory off my hands. since that moment i have never ever eaten a shrimp. and i will never eat or touch one for as long as i live.
that summer was the summer ending my curiosity for seafood. maybe next time i'll tell you about crabs and clam chowder.

this picture is my ine (little sister) on the same day the story takes place. the shrimp pictured is not the shrimp from the story. this shrimp is ine's friend.