Friday, July 31, 2009

New girlfriend

Shuki has a girlfriend and we're so proud.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

A letter to a friend

Dearest xxxx,

I hope this letter finds you well. It's been a long long time since we have spoken and often when I gaze out of the car window, into the heavy morning fog that draps Jerusalem I think of you. Then I think of Portland, then I think of punkrock concerts,bicycles, microbrewed beer and Mt. Hood in the early afternoon and I almost forget about you. Of course, I always refocus and remember I was thinking of you. But then I forget why, or how and then I get angry. Not at you, but at the thought of thinking about you and then forgetting. Then I wonder why memories of Oregon got into my brain. We never spent time in Portland together. Actually, most of the time we spent together is on your hot roof in Tel Aviv. We can't even see the sun set on that roof. But we can see planes flying into Ben Gurion Airport and then we usually talk about something tragic. Like the landing gear not working. Or people with body odor on crowded El Al flights from NYC.

But in all seriousness, I thought of you because I want to make Filipino eggrolls. And I thought if I lived in TA, we would probably be in the kitchen, finely dicing vegetables for these thin eggrolls and you would be bitching and moaning why we couldn't follow the recipe and just use minced PORK ALREADY! I would probably then just laugh and say "dude.Kosher is COOL."


News flash

The paint murder of Haaretz news on a lonely jerusalem street.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Hey Dad

I don't think there is a stronger longing for me this week than the longing of my father. I can still remember the last time I hugged him: on my tip toes pulling his thick neck down so I could wrap my arms around him. I held his cheek tightly to mine, registering the stub of his beard and his Old Spice smell. I hugged him so tightly he had to pry my arms loose so he could clear his throat.

Dad was the American Dream. His cowboy boots and flannel shirts, his planted trees and broken dreams. (that just sounded like a line from a country song didn't it?)
Once mom had a teachers' conference in Southeast Oklahoma, in a lodge in between the mountains. Dad and us would spend our time window shopping at flea markets and ordering hamburgers from country stands off of dirt roads. One day we took a drive into the hills. Dad taught us to drive his Oldsmobile there. At the ripe age of 8 and 9 Bryan and I were taught the driving-takeover drill. His reasoning was that one day he might suffer from a heart attack while driving. He was teaching us to be little heroes.
When I was walking to my carpool this morning these little memories fluttered in my brain and my heart began to ache. What would my life be like if I could call him on these crisp Jerusalem mornings and we could share a little dry humour? He could pressure me about wanting grandkids and I could avoid the topic, instead, sharing a little tidbit on German idealism and name drop philosophers into his stubborn ears.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

Another great Shabbat

I realize now what the declaration of marriage is. It's not as much legalizing your love for one another, but the social announcement of saying "I prefer to spend my free time and my sleep time with THIS person." It's saying if i'm gonna smell someone's farts, it's gonna be his. And if I'm going to steal the last of the Sushi leftovers, it's gonna be from HIM.
It's saying the Preston force will tackle washing poop out of the dog's coat together and suffer as a team from not seeing the accidently deleted last ten minutes of Changeling.
Since we're on the topic.. what is the part after the seriel killer guy talks to the priest. Does he confess?

Happy Sunday homies.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Everyone loves shuki

Which one is cuter?

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Weekend Away

At the end of the week I am taking the day off for Dr's appointments in Jerusalem. The knowledge that I am having a four day work week is unbearable. This extra time of five hours on a Thursday is equivalent to the joy of eating a pint of Ben and Jerry's and not receiving the 752 calories.
The extra time is welcome. The possibility of rest is even more welcome. This past weekend I spent the first Shabbat away from P Bonez in nearly two years . Some of the girls and I took a break to go up north and celebrate a friends 30th. So much time with some of my best girlfriends resulted in tween style giggling and rocking in hammocks while staring at the mountains in the background.
Despite the relaxing atmosphere, my immune system is still begging for more rest.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Zikkron Yaakov

Friday morn with the girls but missing p bonez

Thursday, July 16, 2009


Henna smells organic. Since i am making it- does that make me middle eastern?

Tuesday, July 14, 2009


My co worker seems to drink her coffee to the same level and stop each time. What could this mean? !

Friday, July 10, 2009

Good morning jeru. I'm still drunk.

Thursday, July 09, 2009


This week occured in fast forward. It started, I woke up and then the next thing I know- it's Thursday.
Perhaps this speedy week is a result of my human flaw of looking forward to the next weekend before my initial weekend is finished. I have put in buffers to allow me to enjoy the week as it passes. It comes in the form of strict scheduling and managing to put in the beach and wine on Tuesdays. I manage Hubby time and long walks that involve picking up dog poo wearing a plastic bag on my hand. If i'm lucky, I find time for 13 karate kicks in the air while watching a favourite show of mine: House.
The only way I am sure it's almost Thursday is my need for an early bedtime on Wednesday. Despite this early bedtime, I pull myself awake at 5:20 am and look over at P Bonez in longing. I want to be the one covering my head with a pillow as the gentle melody of an alarm clock vibrates on the side table.

Sunday, July 05, 2009

Raindrops and Urine

The air was particularly cooler than usual in Jerusalem this morning. I take a brisk walk to my carpool only a few minutes away. For the first time, I noticed urine stains on Jerusalem, a symptom of the amount of dog owners in the Katamon neighborhood.
The stains reach out like long, alien fingers on the sidewalk- with a desire to touch onto the street. Trees are splotched in a darker shade at the bottom of their trunks. Corner walls of Jerusalem stone are mottled with markings of canine excretion.
This of course is a result of a country that doesn't see enough rain. A country that doesn't see the refreshing wash of raindrops before the sun rises. Instead, we are greeted with yesterdays stains.