O Mighty Crisis Stories

“Drop the Damn Fork!”–Jean Nidetch (Weight Watchers Founder) 21

“Drop the Damn Fork!”–Jean Nidetch (Weight Watchers Founder)

Can we fast forward here, to the part where I acknowledge that I gained ten pounds in the summer of 2010 as we closed shop on our lives in Minnesota and stuffed every last ceramic vase and fleece vest into the basement? Continue now with the flowing frames of the...

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Of Tesbih and Testes:  Then It Got Personal 23

Of Tesbih and Testes: Then It Got Personal

As I wrote this one, I realized my complaints about Turkish men got revved up on a day when I felt defensive and angry on behalf of a friend.Now that I’ve written the post, however, I have to concede that the vagaries of relationships aren’t always culture specific. Money and disappointment are...

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Of Tesbih and Testes: Scrubbing Away the Next Layer of Disgruntleds 14

Of Tesbih and Testes: Scrubbing Away the Next Layer of Disgruntleds

I’m floating in the most pleasant Limbo right now. (don’t tell the Catholics what a delightful place Neither Here Nor There can be, lest they stop baptizing their newborns and, thusly, put a crimp in economics of the christening gown industry) We’re back in Minnesota, having wrapped up our Turkish...

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Of Tesbih and Testes: First Layer of Disgruntleds 17

Of Tesbih and Testes: First Layer of Disgruntleds

So, about those Turkish men. A little background: We first entered the village of Ortahisar on foot in August of 2010, having dripped down a meltingly-soft asphalt road for nearly two kilometers from the main highway. Unable to find a rental in heavily-touristed Göreme, we felt the quiet backwater of...

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Station Identification 23

Station Identification

About 12 hours after my previous post, I was ready to write.  In fact, I’d deliberated about the topic of Turkish Men long enough that I’d broken my somewhat-cooled feelings into three representational stories, each of which would cover a different facet of my frustration. Right about then, as I started hopscotching...

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Huff 22

Huff

While there is plenty of room in the world of Words on Paper for therapeutic, ranty, jabby, disjointed stream-of-consciousness freewriting, I generally think the best writing comes from a place of control. As a reader, I appreciate feeling that the words I’m absorbing have been crafted deliberately, have been given time to gel, have...

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It Felt As Though I Had Skiied with Prince William Because I Saw a Picture of Princess Margaret in a Parka 24

It Felt As Though I Had Skiied with Prince William Because I Saw a Picture of Princess Margaret in a Parka

There was that time in high school when, on the way home from a speech meet half way across the state, the forensics bus pulled in to a diner in Belgrade, Montana, and we orators and extemporaneous speakers suddenly found ourselves gasping with awe at the sight–in real, live Aqua Netted flesh–of the...

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Grumbling Guts, Salty Lips, Woven Rugs 10

Grumbling Guts, Salty Lips, Woven Rugs

I’m baaack. There are a few ways in which I’ve been gone: I took a trip; I went shopping; I got sick.  Then there’s the part of me that’s permanently checked out–into a corner of my brain I like to call DreamySpaceLandofTooMuchWineandReading. For all of those reasons, I thank Vicky...

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Ups and Downs: Crisis And Court 3

Ups and Downs: Crisis And Court

Dear Readers Who Are Following This Tale:  I apologize for getting a piece out of place in the narrative.  Vicky originally posted her story to a Turkish expat forum, and she was writing cathartically, in a stream of consciousness fashion; as I copied and pasted her posts into this blog,...

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Ups and Downs: In Search of Income 3

Ups and Downs: In Search of Income

After the roof literally fell in, Vicky and Mr P realized they’d not only been fleeced out of their savings, but they’d also just lost any hope of ever living in their dream house; they’d have to find other ways to make money, another place to live: The first couple...

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