This is My Folder

I tend to get overwhelmed in large groups (something I did not realize about myself until last summer), so I pretended that Steve and I were attached by the hip and stuck with him the whole time. I don't think he liked it too much. :) Anyway, here's a picture that properly depicts how I spent the past three days:
Hehe...Just kidding.

Newsflash!

It's better to be a dork than a nerd. Who knew?

According to dictionary.com, the difference between a dork, a stupid, inept, or foolish person, and a nerd, a foolish, inept, or unattractive person, is their level of attractiveness!

Well then...

I Can't Think of a Title

Steve and Jsirpicco sitting in a tree... Just kidding!

Well there I was, bored on a Friday afternoon when I shoulda been cleaning my room l'kavod Shabbat, and I find this article written on this dude Jsirpicco's blog. His grammar, his ideas, and his very adament way of shoving his arguments in your face, reminded me of Steve's blogging style.

So to all those who are fans of Mesiach's blog rants, you must check this guy's post out. It's about Jewish girls vs. non-Jewish girls.

Shabbat Shalom.

Bob Dylan and Me

Once upon a time, there was a man named Zigmond Zimmerman. Zigmond married a woman named Anna and the two of them left their shtetl, Dolhinov, together. They came to America in 1907 and moved to Duluth, Minnesota. They had a number of children here. One of them was Abe Zimmerman, born in Minnesota in 1911. Abe Zimmerman grew up, married, and had a son he named Robert Allen Zimmerman. The family moved to Hibbing. Robert Allen grew up in Hibbing. He later moved to New York and established himself as the man we now know as Bob Dylan.

Once upon a similar time, my Zeide left his small shtetl, Dolhinov, to learn in the Mir Yeshiva. The Holocaust forced him out of Lithuania and to the US via Japan. My father and I were both born in America.

So, in conclusion, Bob Dylan and I are meant to be because we're both three generations removed from the same teeny little shtetl. Crazy, ain't it?

(source: http://www.eilatgordinlevitan.com/dolhinov/dolhinov.html)

Where Are the Standards?

Okay. Really, how am I expected to get any studying done when there are atrocities like this one being committed with no regrets? C'mon, AOL has so much money--why can't they hire copy editors?

My Unknown Bird

I didn't want to open the door to go out back today because I didn't want to scare away the two birds and chipmunk who were munching away at seeds that had fallen from the birdfeeder we have. But then, of course, I got restless (after about a minute) and opened the door. The two birds flew off and the chipmunk skippity-hopped away. Then I noticed another bird. Only this one hadn't moved...and it was upside down.

Why is there a dead bird on my lawn? It looks like it died of a heart attack and I wonder what could have freaked it out so much that it died. But then, maybe it choked on a millet of bird food. Or maybe like my dead bird, Babaganoush, he died of depression.

I was going to take a picture of the bird and write a little eulogy, but I know nothing about this bird's life and was afraid to deligitimize any of its life's work with a silly little eulogy. So here's what I've got:

Unknown Bird

Born: n/a

Died: July 12, 2005

He or she had a pretty red belly and probably a pretty voice.

A bit pathetic, I know, but it's the best I can think up right now.

Ruth Reichl is Still the Best

My new Ruth Reichl book just arrived today from Barnes & Noble. If you didn't already know, I'm a huge fan of hers. But as I looked at the bright blue and red book in the box it had come in, I started to have doubts. Tender at the Bone and Comfort Me with Apples were such delicious reads, I didn't know if Garlic and Sapphires would be up to par with them.

To begin with, the cover has too many bright, primary colors. The background is blue, Ruth's outfit is red, and the table's white. There're also yellow words along the top of the book and yellow stars dotting the i's of "garlic" and "sapphires." I knew this was what the cover looked like from the picture online, but I still couldn't help but take a hard swallow. Tender at the Bone, Reichl's book about growing up and developing her love of foods, has a soft brown and greenish cover. Comfort Me with Apples follows similarly with greenish and brownish tones. Even the Gourmet cookbook I own (yes, the AUTOGRAPHED one) is a soft yellow with maroon lettering on the cover. Why, I wondered, would Ruth Reichl ever go with a brightly covered book?

I packed the book into my bag anyway, along with my math book and calculator, and headed out to school. Finding that my teacher wasn't in his office for our four o'clock meeting, I decided to take a little dip into Central Park and begin reading my new book before class.

I sat on one of the benchs that line Fifth Avenue on the outside of the wall around the park, folded my legs Indian-style, and opened my hard-covered book. I began to read...

It steams unappetizingly up at me: a squishy brown square of meat surrounded by a sticky stockade of potatoes that might have been mashed last year. The wrinkled gray peas look as if they were born in a laboratory test tube. The roll glows with such an unearthly lunar yellow that I can feel its chill before my fingers even touch the surface. The lettuce in the salad has gone brown at the edges, and the tomatoes are too tired to even pretend that nature intended them to be red. The dressing in its little cup stares up at me, bright orange. I stare back. (That's from the third paragraph on the first page.)

After reading the line, "the tomatoes are too tired to even pretend that nature intended them to be red," I looked up and across Fifth Avenue. A man was waiting to cross the street with his huge, shaggy dog, and I repeated the line to myself, "the tomatoes are too tired to even pretend that nature intended them to be red." I looked up the side of the street I was on, and a woman wheeling a baby with huge blue eyes and even huger cheeks, was walking toward me. I said the line to myself again, "the tomatoes are too tired to even pretend that nature intended them to be red." And with that, I turned back into my book and let Fifth melt away into the city's summer and I into Ruth Reichl's words.

Blue in the Holyland

As if we havent had enough politics on this blog, i was thinking about what nukes wrote a article further down this page, and how i think the disengagment should be viewed. Its not like I'm a die hard leftist or some kind of communist, but i have thought that the disengagment is probably the right thing for israel to do solely because it has proven that it cannot win in a densely populated hostile urban environment. And if Israel cannot win it has no right to sacrifice its kids to a lost cause. I think that is the crux of the thinking behind it. I dont know if it will bring peace, it may not, but a different approach must be taken because the status quo is unacceptable.I dont see the purpose in simply killing soldiers, especially if its in defense of a rather small population, with a surrounding arab population which is much larger, incredibly densely populate, impoverished and desperate. I am sorry if jews have to leave their homes, its not something i cherish but if its for the greater good i think its a necessary evil. We had to leave Lebanon eventually for similar reasons. Israel wins conventional wars on conventional battlefields, but the fact is that big conventional armies have never been able to successfully maintain any "occupation" over a hostile population. if anyone could give me an example of a successful military occupation over a hostile population i would I love to hear about it. basically if u cant win you have to leave, theres no point in just killing soldiers for a lost cause, i dont care how unromantic or unpleasant leaving parts of eretz yisrael sounds, if u have to cut off ure foot to save the rest of ure body from being infected, then that is what u have to do, its not exactly a pleasant thought to say the least. I suppose if u could tell me a way that israel could actually win in the gaza i might be persuaded to change my position, but as long as this is some open ended war of attrition i think it would be sad to just continue sacrificing young men. I would also like to mention that these settlers got their homes at a reduced price to begin with, which is why most of them moved there. the government placed them there because the thinking was that this would be the most effective way to control the territories. Apparently that is incorrect, especially in gaza and for the same strategic reasons that they were placed there in the first place they are going to be removed. another point worth mentioning is that this whole yehudi lo migaresh yehudi is really warping the situation. the fact is that the army could just leave the gaza and the settlers who want to go with the army could go and get what ever compensation is available and the ones who want to stay should stay and face teh palestinians alone. the army is actually doing the settlers a favor by forcing them out, because without military support the settlers would quickly run out of ammunition and be overwhelmed by the hysterically hostile surrounding population. basically by dragging all the settlers out of gaza, the Israeli government is also saving the settlers from the palestinians who would inevitabley attack them, or even more so from themselves. The Israeli army is really saving the settlers from themselves and their own fanaticism which would otherwise get them killed. sorry about being so frank am yisrael chai regards from israel i cant wait to see u guys when i get back crazy moishele

Who Doesn't Love Steve?

Last night, I was talking to Steve. He just randomly said something along the lines of, "you know why Meshiach isn't here yet? Because I have baseless hatred for this guy I know."

Gasp.
Give yourself a few minutes for that to sink in.
You can read on now.

Steve used to be my secular Jew friend and now he's frummer than I am! I went to an old classmate's wedding last night and spent lots of my time there speaking lashon hara. Then I came home only to hear Steve's theory on the Meshiach's delayed arrival.

I once heard this beautiful thing about lashon hara. I can't remember who said it, but I'm pretty sure it was a rebbe of somewhere. Anyway, he said the following: "There's no reason to speak poorly about another person. You don't accomplish anything but to point out what is bad about the subject of your conversation to HaShem. And in today's day when so much random suffering happens to people, why would anyone want to remind HaShem that someone might be "worthy" of any of it?"

Uh, hello? I stopped speaking lashon hara practically cold turkey after that. But then I forgot, and then it was fun to poke fun at other people, and then I just fell back into my habit of being a really, really mean girl.

I find that mussar usually comes from the weirdest places. I needed my Catholic hairdresser to remind me of what tznius is all about a few months ago. Now I needed Steve to remind me of the power our emotions, let alone speech, has in this world.

So there you go, Steve. You might not have gotten the honor of "conversation of the day" :), but you sure did a good job reminding me that everything we do should have a pretty damn good reason.

Shabbat Shalom

Today is the yahrtzeit of my Zeide's entire family. They were massacred along with their shtetl during World War Two. My Zeide survived because he was in yeshiva (the Mir).

You can't have proper hakarat hatov if you don't know what to be thankful for. I watched a PBS special about Sugihara, a Japanese diplomat who saved the lives of thousands of Lithuanian Jews during the Holocaust by giving them illegal visas because one of the people he saved was my Zeide. I want to write something up about him, but my notes are on my laptop (which is home). So for now, Shabbat shalom.

Holyland Hello From Crazy Moishele

Well crazy moishele has finally made his pilgrimage to the Naot shoe factory and in the process seen most of the holy land, aka israelestine, aka occupied kush katif-estine (actually i havent been there yet), aka old british mandate of Palestine, aka Medinat Yisrael, aka Haaretz, aka Israel. Well so it really wasnt a pilgrimage to Planet Naot or Gush Katif, it was NCSY Birthright Israel, and to even begin to discribe all the fun things involved would take a few pages, or many computer lines. How does this sound, it was AMAZING!! The only question is wether or not I get allah-credits in this case. why does mecca have to be so far away??

I even had a drink or two, well only two drinks. does that make me a smirinoff ice-aholic? theyre the best! on the last night i was kinda hyper and stuff (who wouldnt be after hanging on the beaches of tel-aviv?), and having fun when i decided to practise my field goal kicking with a coca cola bottle, and well we were on teh 11th floor with no screens in our windows. lets say i managed to get it through the uprights to the amazment of my roomates. I think that was the closest thing ive ever done to doing something "while under the influence" except for falling asleep. I mean like one of my friends told me that I would be drunk the whole time, I guess that prediction was wrong for me, but seriously half of my group was literally shikur for the whole entire trip. I mean like once a couple of us were hanging with a hot female counselor in a our 3rd floor room in the novotel hotel in jerusalem. and below on the second floor there was a patio. A bunch of kids were down there partying and hanging out. well two of them took off their shirts and started swinging them. And then another guy who mustve been at least partially drunk literally climbed into our window from teh floor below. safe to say that it was probably one of the most hysterical things that happened on the trip, aside from me kicking soda bottles.

So up until now i havent actually said anything about the trip itself, and guess what, i dont intend to. Well maybe ill write more if im bored. I hope i speak to some of you guys soon, the whole time zone difference is a real problem.

If i dont, shabbat shalom from petach tikva, israel.

Ode to the Candy Corn

I just made myself sick eating too many candy corns. The candy corn has the texture of wax and tastes like pure sugar, but for some reason, I am obsessed with it. Unlike how I am around Mike and Ikes, which I looooooove, I have absolutely no control over myself when found in a room with candy corns. And unfortunately for my dear stomach, my mother bought candy corn for Shabbat. I had on Friday, I had on Shabbat, I had on Sunday, I had on Monday, and just now, I finished the container. To be honest, I don't think anyone else had any of the candy corns (maybe Eliana or Julie had three when I held my hand out full for them to take) and now I'm just sick from the sugar.
But oh, how sweet surrender to the candy corn is.

We Make Your Dreams Come True-ue

Forced to go upstairs by my brother who won't tolerate my singing "when your room looks kinda weird and you wish that you weren't the-re, just close your eyes and make believe and you can be anywhe-re...Muppet Babies we make your dreams come true-ue..." anymore, I decided that the only way to get this stupid thing out of my head is to embrace it. So I went online to find some Muppet Babies somethings and I found the coolest website ever!

Check this out: Muppet Baby Bios!

Personally, I always felt a certain something for Gonzo, since like him, I'm, "independent, imaginative, and just plain weird." I know Rands is a Fozzi person because of his, "wokka wokka wokka," line.