We here at Agent L headquarters have had a shitty, shitty year, punctuated by moments of grace and loveliness which we hope we haven’t grown so calloused as to not appreciate.
Even before the deportation, there was a nasty incident involving rape, which we have hesitated to write about because we hate over-sharing and sob stories unless there is some dark humor to the sob story, and there was very little humor if any at all to be scraped out of that one, and at the same time we felt guilty about holding back, because don’t these stories need to be told so other ladies don’t feel they’re quite so alone? Raising awareness and all that? Silence is the enemy? We’ve decided to split the difference today and say it happened, it was super shitty, I cried a lot, and you fellas who feel the need to rape people- please quit. Thank you.
Then, just when I had the perfect apartment and had signed a contract for a glorious, dizzyingly wonderful new job, I got tossed out of Turkey, where I’d spent 3 years building a life that I rather loved.
Then there was a nasty incident in Panama that doesn’t bear repeating; finding my name splashed all over Turkish media because I was being re-tried, this time possibly for terrorism, meaning my dreams of a swift return or maybe even a return at all to Turkey were squashed; a completely understandable but no less unpleasant nervous breakdown, and back to living on mom’s fold-out couch with all the attendant humiliations and aggravations of moving back home at 34, along with terrible nightmares and somnambulism, which have, fortunately, subsided.
There followed the worst winter in Baltimore since 1993, and me with all my winter clothes still in Istanbul and no shoes to my name except a pair of sandals that somehow escaped the ravages of rainy season in Panama. I thank everyone who donated sweaters and jackets, and mom, who bought me boots that lasted through at least five snowstorms before falling apart. (More snow is expected on Tuesday and the ballet flats will, again, have to do.)
Job searching in Baltimore is terrible and soul sucking, and if you’re not very careful with your self-esteem, will wreck you.
Reconnecting with old friends, though, is wonderful. I thank CF and MM for their endless support and patience, and the use of their couches and their cable teevee, and I hope MM forgives me for that time I watched Keeping Up With The Kardashians on his teevee thus, apparently, making the teevee dirty forever. I thank Phil for never failing to make me laugh until tears and snot are dripping down my face. I thank everyone who’s bought me a drink or a meal. I thank Bob and Sandy for allowing me to stay in their home on occasion.
And mom and Jerry, (the last shall be first) for putting up with me and supporting me in so many ways. It hasn’t been easy. We’ve all contemplated matricide or childcide or mygirlfriend’s childcide on many occasions, cooped up in this condo, but I could not have survived without you.
Enough of the past. Last year? Fuck you. You’re a dick.
In five short weeks and change, I’ll be on my next adventure, which I’m keeping under wraps for now. It’ll be grand and hard and exciting and boring, everything that life generally is.
I’m so excited to share it with you.
In the meantime, though: PSA: I have almost nothing to write about except maybe cooking, so refer to sarahlizperrich.wordpress.com to follow my increasing fascination with spare meat, and I’m still, of course, very much invested in Turkey and Ukraine, (can you believe my first choice of Next Destination was Odessa? Nose for trouble=me) so I’ll be reblogging things I think relevant or tragic, (most news out of Turkey is an unfortunate combination of both, especially as elections near and Erdoğan escalates his frothing at the mouth madness.)
I’ll have more stories come April 25.
Thank you all for following.