Tag Archives: menopause

Sleepless In Mersin

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Insomnia does have its perks, for me at least.  I have been powering through my first novel and am now up to Chapter 22.  It’s a romance with just a little bit of sex (not porno sex just the idea of it).  My friend in Oz who has been my advisor on all things book related has asked me for more sex but The Turk has said that it makes him look dirty by association.  Yeah.  Whatever.

insomnia

Insomnia has also allowed me to make sarma at 3.30 in the morning and, as an added bonus, I saved the salça that been doing its stuff on the roof from the sudden downpour last night (yes it rained but it will, no doubt, return to its usual hellfire today).  So the glass really is half full and all that I guess.

I’m assuming that the insomnia which has gripped me is part of the whole peri-menopausal sitch that I am experiencing now which means I am already a little highly strung, suffering from Sahara Desert-like hot flashes and agitated to the point of taking all of you out but now I’m fecking exhausted on top of everything else.  FML!  Seriously FMFL!

It’s nearly 5am now and I’m staring at My Kedi Cat sleeping on the desk beside me with a mixture of hatred and curiosity.  My Kedi Cat doesn’t experience insomnia.  My Kedi Cat has the skill of falling asleep standing up.  As can The Turk.  And Daughter for that matter.  I hate them all.

cat-sleeping

I start cruising the web typing in the most outlandish things I can think of.  It seems my chance of surviving a zombie apocalypse is on 13%.  Well that sucks.  But I have a stellar knowledge in all things Grey’s Anatomy which will be useful … never.

Daughter has suggested I count sheep but as we killed one yesterday for Bayram my sheep appear in a much more sinister form and scare me senseless.  I’m never going to sleep again.

The Turk has sensibly distanced himself while I externally combust and is merely appearing intermittently with chocolate, wine or some other distraction for my bollocking brain until this bout of insomnia passes.  Like most things he thinks the best cure for insomnia is sex.  The look on my face said it all and he hightailed it out of here.  I haven’t seen him since.  No really.

I step out onto the terrace and wish that I smoked again.  A cigarette would be great about now and if I smoked I would be assisting in my own demise.  I can sleep when I’m dead and all that.  I hear the Muezzin begin the ezan (call to prayer).  At least I’m not the only one up now.  Around the village I can see a few lights flick on as people begin their morning routine.

The sun is beginning to rise in the east and the terrace takes on a pink tone.  I sit on my new (unscarred) terrace furniture watching the sunrise and sip my çay.  It’s light enough now to take My Hurley Dog for his morning walk.  I guess that’s a good enough reason to get my ass going and start the day.

Gunaydin. 

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Waiting For Rain (and hot flashes)

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Despite the fact that I only returned from Down Under a month ago the never ending heat in the Village is sending me a little deli.  I mean yesterday is the perfect example.  There was talk of rain.  In fact no one spoke of anything else.  Adana had rain.  The Yayla had rain.  I believe even Mezitli had rain but here in the Village?  Nada.  Nothing.  Hiçbir şey değil!

And before any of you point out to me that it is Turkiye and of course it will be hot in summer I say this to you …. I am peri-menopausal and am pretty fecking agitated right now so before you start on me …. you have been warned!  I mean its fecking hot so why not add a hot flash to the hot.  Why fecking not???

sweating

I have decided to make a list about how many ways Mother Nature is screwing with us or screwing with me personally.  I do think it is personal.  Bitch must be peri-menopausal as well.

Anyway many of these are meme’s running around on the internet but, honestly, tell me I’m wrong folks:

  • Power blackouts. That shit will kill you because your air conditioning won’t work, your fan won’t work, nothing will fecking work but on the bright side if you have your air con blasting all night you will no doubt die of the grip (or so says your favourite teyze) so yeah power blackouts = death!
  • Hot shower? Or hot shower?  Hot water comes out of both faucets now.  The effort to towel dry just makes you sweat more and another hot shower is needed AND you have to dress in front of the fan or air conditioning so you stay dry!
  • Your thongs melt on the bitumen (no not “that” kind of thong).
  • The bitumen melts as well.
  • The temperature drops below 33 degrees. Woah!  Grab a jacket!  Wait!  Don’t grab a jacket!  You’re not Turkish silly!
  • Storm on the horizon? YES!    It’s now a Swedish sauna outside.  Steam non-optional!
  • You are prepared to drive great distances because the air conditioning works in your car.
  • You drive your car with your fingers.
  • You are afraid of your seatbelt.
  • The best parking spot is one with shade and yes you are prepared to go and move your car as the sun revolves around the earth.

steering wheel

On the bright side with no rain – probably ever again – it means that today’s chore of making the salca (I’ve got 100kg of biber waiting for me downstairs) will mean it can be done in one day.  Sure I might finish at midnight and sure I will no doubt be covered in bites and stained a bright red but in 2-4 weeks I will have my homemade salca ready for consumption.

The things we do!

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My Mautaugh Realisation

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Does anyone remember that episode of “How I Met Your Mother” when Ted made a list of all the things that he and his friends were all too old to do?  Barney then ran out to prove Ted wrong putting himself through absolute misery only to be forced to accept the final reality that he is growing older.  Yep I am Barney.  I am Mautaugh.  I am me.

Mautaugh

Anyone who knows me personally knows that I am not a big fan of New Years Eve.  Highly overrated.  In fact my very first post all the way back here was about how my New Years Eve blew bat balls but that particular NYE brought me to Turkey and to my new life.  A  dramatic story.  This one – not so much.

We need to rewind a few weeks to really gain insight as to how My Mautaugh Realisation came into being.  We begin at an expat Christmas party where a party person (who shall remain nameless) told me I looked pretty good for 49!  What.  The.  Royal.  Feck!?!?!  Being full of the holiday spirit (which is pretty hard to locate in Mersin) I chose to take this backhanded compliment (was it a compliment?) with a grain of salt and party on regardless of my obviously (to everyone but me) aging and decrepit self.

Then last week I was on a dolmuş when an older lady (shall we say slightly older than me) offered me her seat.  This in itself is unusual as it is normally only boys or men that stand to offer a seat however in this instance she called me yenge (aunt).  Are.  You.  Shitting.  Me?!?!  Biytch you look more haggard that I have ever looked.  Please!

Which brings us to yesterday.  New Years Eve.  It started well.  I got interviewed by the local television station as an expat and what it was like to be in Mersin for New Years Eve.  I had lunch in my favourite café at Ataturk Park and it was playing all my favourite tunes.  From INXS to Rick Astley it was an actual dance party and I was loving life.  Then … I went to the hairdresser.

In Turkey you can go for a wash and style or blow dry for next to nix.  In fact 8TL or AU$4.00.  See – next to nix.  Anyway while there my usual hairdresser told me that she was going to curl my hair as it is way too thin to blow straight.  Excuse me?  She then handed me a little ball of my hair as a gift.  O.M.F.G!  What is going on?  First I am aged to 49, then suddenly I am a yengi to a haggard beast of a woman and now my hair is falling out like my grandmother (no I am not going to mention Daughter’s Alopecia although she took great pleasure in bringing it up and offering me her hair tonic) this morning.

Like my hair my good mood gurgled down the drain and I started my New Years Eve celebration slightly dark.  Arriving at our destination I perked up considerably (although when I found how much I was paying for a bottle of wine I felt slightly violated).  By midnight I had danced until I just could not dance any more.  I learned that he (or she) who holds the hankie wields a lot of power on the dance floor of a Turkish restaurant.  I drank more Raki than a sensible person should although I still detest the taste of Raki and finally I found myself running through a portakal grove throwing oranges at strangers while watching fireworks as the New Year rolled in.  By 2am I was knackered only to find out that there were no more dolmus and no taksiler to be found.  So no bus and no taxi.  Now what?  Hitchhike?  With my 12 year old?  No I had to wait for my brother in law (who was with the band) and so I found myself being the last people to leave the lokanta at 3.45 this morning – not bad for an apparent 49 year old!

I woke this morning covered in huge bruises (no doubt from an orange pummelling), a broken heel, makeup running down my face and not much memory of how I actually got home.  At that moment … I had … My Mautaugh Realisation.

I am definitely getting too old for this shit!

Herkesin yeni yıl kutlu olsun.  Happy New Year everyone.