The other day Pkilla was regaling me with a touching story of unrequited teenage love, in which she left clues for her crush to figure out who his mystery crusher was. Either he was obtuse, or she left things like "My name does NOT rhyme with rhinoceros" and "I am female, in your grade, and you know my name." After telling her tale, there was a big sigh of relief, from her at least, when she revealed she no longer needs to go completely out of her way to impress or catch a crush. I say from her, because in many ways (ok, all ways) I still do.
I'm hoping to trick one woman who may end up being rich in a few years to move to NYC and go out with me, at which point she can support my photographic habit (tax write-off for supporting the arts!). Then there's the herb girl at the farmer's market, who has totally captivated my heart. I asked her out, but she didn't think her boyfriend would like that much and informed me I had missed the boat. When's the next boat though? I now bring her blueberries grown in my garden in an attempt to impress her, much like older men drive shiny red convertibles or bower birds decorate their nest with super pretty things. "Here's a zucchini from my yard," I'll say. "Isn't it delicious? Please, enjoy these perfectly formed blueberries from my bush." The subtext is clear; I can grow vegetables and fruit pretty well, wouldn't I make a great mate? It's always been my belief that good gardening is a mark of virility. So, ladies: be impressed by my agricultural green thumb, as I'm a good provider, and let me take you to see Hellboy 2, after which we can be amorous.
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 20, 2008
The Anti-Me
"What the hell?! I went outside to see if anything had stupidly stumbled into my trap, and found the food eaten and the gate down. Stupid cat lady swore to me the other day she was no longer feeding the cats, but I don't believe her. She admitted to me that after I caught the last cat, she cried all morning about it. I'm going to kick her head off one day, she's so stupid.
So one of two things happened. Either the cat managed to move the food from next to what trips the cage door to fall to the other side of the cage, eat all of it, leave the cage and then trip it using a tree branch or pick the lock on the other side to escape Houdini style, or Anna gave the cat the food or let it out. Or her mongoloid son did. They're both so stupid. I hate them both so much. She just straight lies to my face. If this keeps up, I'm gonna be forced to punch her in the face. When I get home, I'm going to burn her fucking wisteria down. Then I'll have to cage her son, and when I catch that last cat, I'm going to put his head on a spear as a warning to all the others and slap her with it's lifeless torso for being a moron.
Ok, maybe that's harsh, but you don't understand. She's like the anti-me. Everything she does is to undo something I've done. I try to keep the cats out of the yard so it doesn't smell like a litter box, and she leaves food for them. I got the cat trap because she never did, so she feeds the cats and also lets them out of the cage. I clean up weeds in the backyard so it's more usable, and she plants things haphazardly that became too 'ugly' for the front yard. It's all just like a giant fuck you to me. Imagine you tied your shoes, and someone immediately untied them. You brush your teeth and someone immediately throws dirt in your mouth. You eat food cause you're hungry and someone comes along and sticks their fingers down your throat to force it up. I mega-loathe her."
My mom calmly asked me if I was done ranting, then proceeded to talk to my sister about how much the hamster loves kernels of corn.
So one of two things happened. Either the cat managed to move the food from next to what trips the cage door to fall to the other side of the cage, eat all of it, leave the cage and then trip it using a tree branch or pick the lock on the other side to escape Houdini style, or Anna gave the cat the food or let it out. Or her mongoloid son did. They're both so stupid. I hate them both so much. She just straight lies to my face. If this keeps up, I'm gonna be forced to punch her in the face. When I get home, I'm going to burn her fucking wisteria down. Then I'll have to cage her son, and when I catch that last cat, I'm going to put his head on a spear as a warning to all the others and slap her with it's lifeless torso for being a moron.
Ok, maybe that's harsh, but you don't understand. She's like the anti-me. Everything she does is to undo something I've done. I try to keep the cats out of the yard so it doesn't smell like a litter box, and she leaves food for them. I got the cat trap because she never did, so she feeds the cats and also lets them out of the cage. I clean up weeds in the backyard so it's more usable, and she plants things haphazardly that became too 'ugly' for the front yard. It's all just like a giant fuck you to me. Imagine you tied your shoes, and someone immediately untied them. You brush your teeth and someone immediately throws dirt in your mouth. You eat food cause you're hungry and someone comes along and sticks their fingers down your throat to force it up. I mega-loathe her."
My mom calmly asked me if I was done ranting, then proceeded to talk to my sister about how much the hamster loves kernels of corn.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Nyet. Da. Da. Shto?
Named as secretary of the new board of directors in a secret meeting reminiscent of the kinds held by party bosses in the 30s and 40s, I had yet to see any responsibility. That all changed with the announcement of our first building meeting last night, held at 7 PM in the boiler room in the basement, with only 7 seating surfaces (not chairs) for 10 people. My first duty was to take notes at the meeting. What follows is excerpts from my notes of the meeting:
Looking back, I think they may have made a mistake asking the only non-Russian speaker in the building to take notes at a meeting in which English was only used by mistake.
6/18/08 7:25 PM
8 people present....9. 10. 10 people present1. New Board of Directors
Alex = President
Anna = "I will continue to be treasurer"
Larry = Secretary (of Defense)
After announcement there was silence, before one person said ok. Sounds unanimous to me.
2. Water bill has increased due to possible prostitution ring upstairs.
Alex and I discuss merits of letting prettier girls do whatever they want. Much arguing.
3. Bylaws. There are no sponsors any longer. (Shouldn't the bylaws be mentioned and then voted on, rather than just agreed that there is such a thing as "bylaws" in the world? Oh well.)
4, 5, 6, whatever...No construction early in the morning or late at night, no working in your storage room, keep plants inside balcony so they don't drip on merry bbq'ers below, no hate crimes, etc. Damn I'm hungry.
7. Why did Alex just use the word "emergency" in a Russian filled statement? Be sure to find out why there's no Russian word for emergency. You'd kind of figure there would be.
8. Common charges should be raised to...(oh hell, I didn't catch that and now everything is in Russian. Should I loudly yell out Nyet, das vidanya? Might not make sense).
9. Who cares anymore? I'm totally bored and I think we're all still arguing about the water bill and raising charges in Russian. Well, everyone but me. Now I'm being asked to chime in and yell at the guy they're all picking on, but I don't understand, and I don't wanna. I don't! They can't make me. Ha, now one of the guys is getting really pissy, comically so, about replacing the lock for 200 dollars. Haha, this is getting good. Oh, it's over? Only 1.5 hours later? Well that was well worth my time. Can't wait for the next one. The End.
Monday, June 09, 2008
To Catch a Cat
For the past year and a half I've been at war with the neighborhood's feral felines, a war which I was continuously losing. No matter how many plastic forks I put down as deterrents, how many cinder blocks I used to block up holes in the fence, how many times I cursed them, these clever cats found ways to get in and fulfill what I can only assume was their dream of crapping in my raised bed garden. When they weren't accomplishing their sole mission in life, they meowed and fought loudly, forced me to buy chicken wire to cover the vegetable garden, and left behind the heads of kittens.
Yesterday I finally won a battle in this long fought war. One of the cats recently had kittens and left them unattended. I scooped up one of the clueless 3 week old kittens and put it in timeout in a paint bucket while I searched for his sibling, who had managed to scamper off into low brush. After fruitless searching, I eventually brought the kitten outside and left him on the steps to meow pitifully, thus drawing both his mother and sibling out of hiding. The mother quickly scampered off, but I had the brothers scooped up in a towel and eventually deposited in their cardboard box holding cell, along with water and milk (which they wouldn't drink until I hit on the idea of having James Cash breast feed them since they weren't yet weaned). They didn't do much except look cute. Their mother spent a large portion of the evening staring in to my apartment, no doubt hoping to get her scions back. However, she failed to understand the basic rules of hostage negotiations, and didn't offer me anything in exchange.
I brought the kittens to a shelter where they will no doubt be adopted on the strength of adorableness and saved from being one of "many kitties who die in the backyard over the winter," as my cat feeding and encouraging moron of a neighbor noted. To add to mother cat's bad luck, today she was captured in my cat trap. I was elated, but thought being too bragadocious would be in bad taste, so I merely went outside and captured my flexing on her for posterity. That'll teach you to trespass, assholes.
Yesterday I finally won a battle in this long fought war. One of the cats recently had kittens and left them unattended. I scooped up one of the clueless 3 week old kittens and put it in timeout in a paint bucket while I searched for his sibling, who had managed to scamper off into low brush. After fruitless searching, I eventually brought the kitten outside and left him on the steps to meow pitifully, thus drawing both his mother and sibling out of hiding. The mother quickly scampered off, but I had the brothers scooped up in a towel and eventually deposited in their cardboard box holding cell, along with water and milk (which they wouldn't drink until I hit on the idea of having James Cash breast feed them since they weren't yet weaned). They didn't do much except look cute. Their mother spent a large portion of the evening staring in to my apartment, no doubt hoping to get her scions back. However, she failed to understand the basic rules of hostage negotiations, and didn't offer me anything in exchange.
I brought the kittens to a shelter where they will no doubt be adopted on the strength of adorableness and saved from being one of "many kitties who die in the backyard over the winter," as my cat feeding and encouraging moron of a neighbor noted. To add to mother cat's bad luck, today she was captured in my cat trap. I was elated, but thought being too bragadocious would be in bad taste, so I merely went outside and captured my flexing on her for posterity. That'll teach you to trespass, assholes.
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Friday, June 06, 2008
Birthright Israel 2: Hummus Abounds!
Morning was pretty rough, as last night I slept without a blanket again, trying and failing to cover myself with hand towels to ward off the chill from the A/C. Drinking 1/2 a bottle of wine and getting my ass kicked in water basketball didn't help the waking up process. On the 2nd night we were in Israel, we finally held ice breakers at the kibbutz's pool. Our peer leaders set up a game of Jewish bingo for us, which was mostly useless in helping me learn people's names, but I did find out who's favorite color was blue. If only I could match the name to the face. Everyone knows drinking is the best ice breaker anyway. In time, I would compare the trip to freshman year of college. Everyone starts off pretty friendly, since we're all thrown together in an unfamiliar new country, and as time goes on, you become friends with the people who you really want to be. For me, this wasn't too many, as I was often buried in my camera or not feeling great due to 5 hours of sleep, hikes, and not eating enough. I probably lost 7-10 pounds on the trip.
We visited Tzfat, birthplace of Jewish mysticism and City of Four Spellings. It was here that I received a red bracelet, which makes me a high priest of kaballah. This bracelet of destiny has been tied to my left wrist in an unbreakable knot of eternity by the hands of Fate herself. Or it was just double knotted really well by my sister. Whatever. I also learned that blue is a very significant color in the Middle East, which is why many windows are blue. I definitely know the reason behind this, but I'm gonna choose to keep it to myself. We visited some old synagogues with birds flying around inside and then a candle store which made a wax Noah's ark, Super-Rabbi, Super-Jew, and strangest of all, the Incredible Hulk.
Our first night out in Jerusalem gave us a good impression of what Israeli nightlife was like: crappy American house music mixed with lots of Americans who couldn't dance too well. Hookahs came for free with beer I think. The night was forever immortalized in the same way most nights out are for me: photos of flashing gang signs and at least one beer in my other hand.
According to my itinerary, Friday we traveled westwards to Tel Aviv and we may or may not have experienced the Mediterranean at a beach (I just remember a lot of whining towards that end). Once there, we got to see a movie on how Tel Aviv was founded that was made from stock footage in the 80s, but the rest of the experience at Independence Hall was well worth the trip. A sabra told the tale dramatically, totally nailing the David Ben Gurion gavel bang, and gave some perspective through her personal story of raising a boy and sending him off to the military. Things got even more somber at Rabin square, a memorial to Yitzhak Rabin, who was taken from Israel too soon by an assassination. The day was topped off with more local culture and me getting hissed at by an olive vendor at the Shabbat market, a raucous and fast moving food market not unlike what you'd see in a movie. Imagine hundreds of Israelis rushing about to gather food supplies and bargain before everything shuts down for the day of rest, and you'll have some idea of the chaos.
That night was really the only time on the whole trip any religion was forced on us. There was a Shabbat program consisting of a story of a man who loved a song that went "li li la li la li li" because, and here's a spoiler warning cause I'm giving away the surprise ending, his dad wrote it, but he didn't know this because he thought he was Muslim and he never knew his real father. The other story had to do with why Shabbat was special, and the answer was that all the other days had paired up. I guess getting rejected at a singles party for days of the week makes you special, though it's an interesting definition. There was also exploitation of the young passionate Jew from Brooklyn's daughter to sing songs.
Our more secular tour guide relayed his personal opinion on it afterwards, and I could really get behind the main idea. I don't buy into not using electricity on Shabbat, but liked the idea of not doing work on Saturday, using it as a day to relax and be with your family. I could even get behind it from a spiritual sense too, but found too often people took it too seriously or justified what they did or didn't do. We would find pre-ripped toilet paper at many of the kibbutzes because ultra-religious Jews couldn't do that on Shabbat. Really? Is ripping toilet paper really considered work? I like to take a nap every day, but this puts even my laziness to shame.
We visited Tzfat, birthplace of Jewish mysticism and City of Four Spellings. It was here that I received a red bracelet, which makes me a high priest of kaballah. This bracelet of destiny has been tied to my left wrist in an unbreakable knot of eternity by the hands of Fate herself. Or it was just double knotted really well by my sister. Whatever. I also learned that blue is a very significant color in the Middle East, which is why many windows are blue. I definitely know the reason behind this, but I'm gonna choose to keep it to myself. We visited some old synagogues with birds flying around inside and then a candle store which made a wax Noah's ark, Super-Rabbi, Super-Jew, and strangest of all, the Incredible Hulk.
Our first night out in Jerusalem gave us a good impression of what Israeli nightlife was like: crappy American house music mixed with lots of Americans who couldn't dance too well. Hookahs came for free with beer I think. The night was forever immortalized in the same way most nights out are for me: photos of flashing gang signs and at least one beer in my other hand.
According to my itinerary, Friday we traveled westwards to Tel Aviv and we may or may not have experienced the Mediterranean at a beach (I just remember a lot of whining towards that end). Once there, we got to see a movie on how Tel Aviv was founded that was made from stock footage in the 80s, but the rest of the experience at Independence Hall was well worth the trip. A sabra told the tale dramatically, totally nailing the David Ben Gurion gavel bang, and gave some perspective through her personal story of raising a boy and sending him off to the military. Things got even more somber at Rabin square, a memorial to Yitzhak Rabin, who was taken from Israel too soon by an assassination. The day was topped off with more local culture and me getting hissed at by an olive vendor at the Shabbat market, a raucous and fast moving food market not unlike what you'd see in a movie. Imagine hundreds of Israelis rushing about to gather food supplies and bargain before everything shuts down for the day of rest, and you'll have some idea of the chaos.
That night was really the only time on the whole trip any religion was forced on us. There was a Shabbat program consisting of a story of a man who loved a song that went "li li la li la li li" because, and here's a spoiler warning cause I'm giving away the surprise ending, his dad wrote it, but he didn't know this because he thought he was Muslim and he never knew his real father. The other story had to do with why Shabbat was special, and the answer was that all the other days had paired up. I guess getting rejected at a singles party for days of the week makes you special, though it's an interesting definition. There was also exploitation of the young passionate Jew from Brooklyn's daughter to sing songs.
Our more secular tour guide relayed his personal opinion on it afterwards, and I could really get behind the main idea. I don't buy into not using electricity on Shabbat, but liked the idea of not doing work on Saturday, using it as a day to relax and be with your family. I could even get behind it from a spiritual sense too, but found too often people took it too seriously or justified what they did or didn't do. We would find pre-ripped toilet paper at many of the kibbutzes because ultra-religious Jews couldn't do that on Shabbat. Really? Is ripping toilet paper really considered work? I like to take a nap every day, but this puts even my laziness to shame.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Birthright Israel 1: The Land of Milk and Honey and ATMs
On Memorial Day, Monday May 26, 2008, at 11:50 PM local time, I departed, along with the rest of my Taglit Birthright group, Israel Outdoors, to Israel, determined to come back tan and fabulously wealthy. Also, due to a certain friend whose name rhymes with Para and starts with a D, I was convinced I was going to hook up with at least 30 beautiful Israeli women, and also whichever American women were on the trip. "My friend came back from Israel with a girlfriend, and he's gay." The pressure was certainly on.*
After a 10 hour flight that seemed not so bad upon landing, I started what would later become a trend by separating from the group at baggage claim and waiting outside for them for 30 minutes. Oops. Another trend of not being able to eat when hungry and traveling on the bus too much began here too. We drove north to a kibbutz (not the one we stayed at), where we quickly came to learn that the food we'd be eating was going to be low quality and cafeteria style (only 1 protein each!). We also learned that Israelis have Tang with all dinners and Kool Aid with all breakfasts, along with such oddities as peppers, tomatoes and cucumbers. Avner, our tour guide, proudly bragged about how Israelis eat more salad than anyone else in the world, but failed to manage how they don't actually eat this crappy food too.
While driving north, I was struck by the landscape. Not having traveled out of the country much, I expected to be overwhelmed by the change, yet the landscape didn't feel unfamiliar. It was Mediterranean in the north, and in many ways reminded me of Italy. While impressed by the beauty, I wasn't in awe as it felt comfortable. I was completely impressed by the amount of agriculture. The northern part of the country is a veritable greenhouse, with sunflowers and rosemary and humus trees everywhere. Throughout the trip I saw some cool wildlife, mostly birds I've never seen before, but a few hyraxes, ibexes, stray lizards and wandering camels.
My Israel adventure really started the next day, when we hiked around Nimrod's Castle in Galilee, or maybe it was in or near Golan Heights. We had a fantastic view of Syria, or perhaps Lebanon. I really don't remember which it was, as I tended to wander off and take photos rather than pay as much attention to the tour guide as I should have. In any case, it was really cool, and like much of Israel, incomprehensibly old. When forts and castles and roads are a thousand or more years old, you tend to scoff at our notion of Wrigley Field being old and monumental. From here, we went to visit Banias, which is not only the largest waterfall in all of Israel, but also home to the Keebler Elves' very first flour mill. The only photographic evidence I have of kayaking on the Jordan River is a shot of a bench and a french fry vending machine that was closed up. It was probably a good idea not to bring any of my cameras on the inflatable kayak that couldn't be steered straight as young Israelis (and our tour guide) love to splash and shout mostly nonsensical things in English to us American tourists. We finished the day at what was formerly Syrian bunkers on top of Mt. Bental. Nothing like packing into a room and then finding out it was a popular location for the soldiers to relieve themselves while listening to a joke that anon means "clouds" in Hebrew and there used to be a coffee shop at the top, so it was nicknamed Coffee Anon. Yea, I don't find it that funny either.
*In this series, you will read many things. All of them are based on notes I took in my travel journal or memories recollected from photos I took, so every word will be true. As usual.
After a 10 hour flight that seemed not so bad upon landing, I started what would later become a trend by separating from the group at baggage claim and waiting outside for them for 30 minutes. Oops. Another trend of not being able to eat when hungry and traveling on the bus too much began here too. We drove north to a kibbutz (not the one we stayed at), where we quickly came to learn that the food we'd be eating was going to be low quality and cafeteria style (only 1 protein each!). We also learned that Israelis have Tang with all dinners and Kool Aid with all breakfasts, along with such oddities as peppers, tomatoes and cucumbers. Avner, our tour guide, proudly bragged about how Israelis eat more salad than anyone else in the world, but failed to manage how they don't actually eat this crappy food too.
While driving north, I was struck by the landscape. Not having traveled out of the country much, I expected to be overwhelmed by the change, yet the landscape didn't feel unfamiliar. It was Mediterranean in the north, and in many ways reminded me of Italy. While impressed by the beauty, I wasn't in awe as it felt comfortable. I was completely impressed by the amount of agriculture. The northern part of the country is a veritable greenhouse, with sunflowers and rosemary and humus trees everywhere. Throughout the trip I saw some cool wildlife, mostly birds I've never seen before, but a few hyraxes, ibexes, stray lizards and wandering camels.
My Israel adventure really started the next day, when we hiked around Nimrod's Castle in Galilee, or maybe it was in or near Golan Heights. We had a fantastic view of Syria, or perhaps Lebanon. I really don't remember which it was, as I tended to wander off and take photos rather than pay as much attention to the tour guide as I should have. In any case, it was really cool, and like much of Israel, incomprehensibly old. When forts and castles and roads are a thousand or more years old, you tend to scoff at our notion of Wrigley Field being old and monumental. From here, we went to visit Banias, which is not only the largest waterfall in all of Israel, but also home to the Keebler Elves' very first flour mill. The only photographic evidence I have of kayaking on the Jordan River is a shot of a bench and a french fry vending machine that was closed up. It was probably a good idea not to bring any of my cameras on the inflatable kayak that couldn't be steered straight as young Israelis (and our tour guide) love to splash and shout mostly nonsensical things in English to us American tourists. We finished the day at what was formerly Syrian bunkers on top of Mt. Bental. Nothing like packing into a room and then finding out it was a popular location for the soldiers to relieve themselves while listening to a joke that anon means "clouds" in Hebrew and there used to be a coffee shop at the top, so it was nicknamed Coffee Anon. Yea, I don't find it that funny either.
*In this series, you will read many things. All of them are based on notes I took in my travel journal or memories recollected from photos I took, so every word will be true. As usual.
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