Just saw this piece on yahoo news, about right-wing Christian evangelicals who sailed a boat from Louisiana to Israel. "We had to be nice to these people," port spokesman Yigal Ben-Zikry said. "They're more Zionist than any Israelis I know." Been hearing about these evangelical Israel-lovers (like our President) for a while. In particular, heard that they were some of the biggest donors of the money I got for moving here. I made Aliyah with the help of an Israeli foundation called Nefesh B'Nefesh (soul with soul), but rumor has it the money they gave me came from people who want all the Jews to move to ISrael so the apocalypse will come. Or something like that. Obviously I'm not extremely well-informed on their beliefs here! I do know that some Americans and Canadians who've made Aliyah with Nefesh B'NEfesh's help have donated the money they got to Palestinian right-of-return causes.
I donated my money to my college-loan collectors, and to a trip to Mexico last year. The latter expenditure turned out to have an effect they would have liked. I brought another soul to Israel!
Friday, October 27, 2006
Thursday, October 26, 2006
photos, grammar, and farts
You may have noticed I've stopped putting photos up here. My computer hates me, and takes hours eating the photos I try to upload to this. If you want to look at pictures, scroll down to earlier posts. OR check out Christopher's and my* flickr page.
*By the way, any grammar nerds out there know how to deal with this? I remember from English class, if you want to talk about something that belongs to two people, you would say, for example: Molly and Jenn's adventure. If you want to talk about Molly's and Jenn's individual books (which I know each will write some day- though they may do it together too!), you'd say Molly's and Jenn's books. If i'm talking about, say, Christopher and my demonic hellkitten Spinoza, doesn't that sound weird?
Also, another appeal for advice: anyone out there have the experience of the little kids you're teaching (in private lessons) farting all the time? I usually just pretend nothing happened, and maybe, on some pretext like looking for my pencil, take a couple steps back. I wish I could high-five them or make a stupid joke. I don't want them to feel embarrassed, but I was never very comfortable with that whole functioning of the body in public thing. When I was their age I was a champ at holding it in. Then again, I always had awful stomach problems! The whole thing of it being embarrassing is so dumb. Anyone read the BFG? In it, the giants believe it's polite to fart and rude to burp. I could never make it there.
*By the way, any grammar nerds out there know how to deal with this? I remember from English class, if you want to talk about something that belongs to two people, you would say, for example: Molly and Jenn's adventure. If you want to talk about Molly's and Jenn's individual books (which I know each will write some day- though they may do it together too!), you'd say Molly's and Jenn's books. If i'm talking about, say, Christopher and my demonic hellkitten Spinoza, doesn't that sound weird?
Also, another appeal for advice: anyone out there have the experience of the little kids you're teaching (in private lessons) farting all the time? I usually just pretend nothing happened, and maybe, on some pretext like looking for my pencil, take a couple steps back. I wish I could high-five them or make a stupid joke. I don't want them to feel embarrassed, but I was never very comfortable with that whole functioning of the body in public thing. When I was their age I was a champ at holding it in. Then again, I always had awful stomach problems! The whole thing of it being embarrassing is so dumb. Anyone read the BFG? In it, the giants believe it's polite to fart and rude to burp. I could never make it there.
amazing news
I just saw the headline: New Jersey Court Backs Full Rights for Gay Couples. (full article)
Some friends of our family just got married in Massachusetts, and my parents told me that the Rabbi said some moving words about how much it means to be married in the one state where gay couples are allowed to as well. Another friend of mine, after I'd told him about Christopher's and my marriage, shared some of his thoughts on the subject, mentioning that friends of his had opted out because of its not being allowed for everyone. I can't say we had given it so much thought! Or maybe that's not right- we made the choice we wanted to make. But New Jersey is proving, once again, that it's the awesomest state in the nation. It was so meaningful to make our commitment legal at the crazy, crooked-facing City Hall building I walked past every day I lived in Jersey City, for tons of reasons. And now there's another one. I hope the legislature now does what it should and calls a spade a spade. That word is so ---what's the word? I'm wanting to say tantalizing (marriage, not spade. Yikes!) or paralyzing but I mean dividing. Oh, polarizing!! I can't say I have much faith that the elected branch of government can be as brave and forward-thinking as our courts. Guess I'm an elitist.
Some friends of our family just got married in Massachusetts, and my parents told me that the Rabbi said some moving words about how much it means to be married in the one state where gay couples are allowed to as well. Another friend of mine, after I'd told him about Christopher's and my marriage, shared some of his thoughts on the subject, mentioning that friends of his had opted out because of its not being allowed for everyone. I can't say we had given it so much thought! Or maybe that's not right- we made the choice we wanted to make. But New Jersey is proving, once again, that it's the awesomest state in the nation. It was so meaningful to make our commitment legal at the crazy, crooked-facing City Hall building I walked past every day I lived in Jersey City, for tons of reasons. And now there's another one. I hope the legislature now does what it should and calls a spade a spade. That word is so ---what's the word? I'm wanting to say tantalizing (marriage, not spade. Yikes!) or paralyzing but I mean dividing. Oh, polarizing!! I can't say I have much faith that the elected branch of government can be as brave and forward-thinking as our courts. Guess I'm an elitist.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
brilliance
you may have noticed the change in my profile. That's because I did, actually, clean my viola with cough syrup last night. We got back from Masada and the Dead Sea in the afternoon, collapsed for a long nap, I woke up, took out the axe, and saw it needed cleaning. Reaching for the rubbing alcohol bottle, I grabbed another of similar size. And that's the story. I scrubbed away at the fingerboard and strings, thinking the alcohol must have aged and that's why it had changed color. The fingerboard was very shiny, but the rosin at the end by the bridge wasn't coming off. Turns out I was caking it on even more.
Kids, don't clean your viola with sugar-based substances!!!
Luckily, the alcohol got it all off. But there's still a faint smell.
So, that's my news. We went to Petra, Aqaba, MAsada and the Dead Sea since I last wrote, but that's what I felt needed to be shared.
Oh yeah, and that I fell off a skateboard the other day. Christopher was teaching me the basics of going downhill, and when I finally felt I'd mastered them I started for a long run from the top of a very, very shallow hill to go the length of a parking lot. C videoed me on our little camera- I wish I could post video here, because I have to say it's pretty funny. I go by him all smiles then almost at the bottom I "start to go all squirrelly" (C's words) and fall on my face. Or my knee, to be more precise. It hurt. I was worried we couldn't go ahead with our whirlwind Masada trip. But it was fine, and by the time we were climbing I was barely aware of it.
We left Tel Aviv at 3 AM and were at the base of the fortress at 5, the sun just starting to come up. I felt like a true ISraeli, climbing Masada for my third time. My first time, with Birthright, we met a bunch of high school kids at the youth hostel, some of whom were climbing it for their 9th time! We got up quicker than the other two times I'd gone. My second time was with my friend Sara and we took our time, chatting and resting to enjoy the view. Climbing with Christopher, I strangely remembered all the stories Sara had told me on our trip. One was about a documentary she'd seen about a WW2 ghetto in which the women all wore the same dress to get married in. And the dress is still around apparently.
So, random interjection here: Christopher and I were married last March. We had done it for practical as well as emotional reasons. And had been quiet about it because we didn't want any confusion with the "big" wedding.
Figured I needed to write that here sometime.
We will still have a big celebration. More a renewal of vows. But something so I can wear the amazing dress from MY past: my grandmother's dress from the 30's, which my aunt Susan also wore, and preserved so perfectly, you'd think it was just made. So beautiful.
Also, getting back to my "story," had to write that news now so you'd understand when I wrote that I've married a mountain goat. I knew of C's climbing tendencies on the vertical wall. But he left me scrambling behind him going up Masada. It was great to be so challenged- quoting my yoga CD "we often give up before fulfilling our true potential." I definitely didn't think I could get up there that fast, but it was fun. I found the only way I could do it was talking. If I let him get too far away from me so that he couldn't hear my ramble anymore, I would just start focusing on how weak I felt. So I'd chase after him to keep the steady stream of nonsense carrying me.
After we explored the top, yelled into the echo canyon, ate sandwiched and drank bug juice just like a good school group, descended- by the end we had "Elvis leg" from the stress of straight-down on the knees- we went to check out the Ein Gedi Spa, where Sara and I had gone on my last trip. Massages, mud dips, hot springs. All perfect after a crazy early-morning mountain climb and no sleep. But, instead, we slept. In the spa parking lot. And then went to swim in the Dead Sea for free at the local public beach. The water was the most beautiful emerald green. It didn't sting at all on my skateboard scrapes, but hurt like hell on my many scars from Spinoza. He's a beast to us. On our way back, we stopped for Moroccan "harira" soup and salads at this bedouin-tent-style restaurant. MAde it back home in less than 12 hours.
just enough time to clean my instrument.
Kids, don't clean your viola with sugar-based substances!!!
Luckily, the alcohol got it all off. But there's still a faint smell.
So, that's my news. We went to Petra, Aqaba, MAsada and the Dead Sea since I last wrote, but that's what I felt needed to be shared.
Oh yeah, and that I fell off a skateboard the other day. Christopher was teaching me the basics of going downhill, and when I finally felt I'd mastered them I started for a long run from the top of a very, very shallow hill to go the length of a parking lot. C videoed me on our little camera- I wish I could post video here, because I have to say it's pretty funny. I go by him all smiles then almost at the bottom I "start to go all squirrelly" (C's words) and fall on my face. Or my knee, to be more precise. It hurt. I was worried we couldn't go ahead with our whirlwind Masada trip. But it was fine, and by the time we were climbing I was barely aware of it.
We left Tel Aviv at 3 AM and were at the base of the fortress at 5, the sun just starting to come up. I felt like a true ISraeli, climbing Masada for my third time. My first time, with Birthright, we met a bunch of high school kids at the youth hostel, some of whom were climbing it for their 9th time! We got up quicker than the other two times I'd gone. My second time was with my friend Sara and we took our time, chatting and resting to enjoy the view. Climbing with Christopher, I strangely remembered all the stories Sara had told me on our trip. One was about a documentary she'd seen about a WW2 ghetto in which the women all wore the same dress to get married in. And the dress is still around apparently.
So, random interjection here: Christopher and I were married last March. We had done it for practical as well as emotional reasons. And had been quiet about it because we didn't want any confusion with the "big" wedding.
Figured I needed to write that here sometime.
We will still have a big celebration. More a renewal of vows. But something so I can wear the amazing dress from MY past: my grandmother's dress from the 30's, which my aunt Susan also wore, and preserved so perfectly, you'd think it was just made. So beautiful.
Also, getting back to my "story," had to write that news now so you'd understand when I wrote that I've married a mountain goat. I knew of C's climbing tendencies on the vertical wall. But he left me scrambling behind him going up Masada. It was great to be so challenged- quoting my yoga CD "we often give up before fulfilling our true potential." I definitely didn't think I could get up there that fast, but it was fun. I found the only way I could do it was talking. If I let him get too far away from me so that he couldn't hear my ramble anymore, I would just start focusing on how weak I felt. So I'd chase after him to keep the steady stream of nonsense carrying me.
After we explored the top, yelled into the echo canyon, ate sandwiched and drank bug juice just like a good school group, descended- by the end we had "Elvis leg" from the stress of straight-down on the knees- we went to check out the Ein Gedi Spa, where Sara and I had gone on my last trip. Massages, mud dips, hot springs. All perfect after a crazy early-morning mountain climb and no sleep. But, instead, we slept. In the spa parking lot. And then went to swim in the Dead Sea for free at the local public beach. The water was the most beautiful emerald green. It didn't sting at all on my skateboard scrapes, but hurt like hell on my many scars from Spinoza. He's a beast to us. On our way back, we stopped for Moroccan "harira" soup and salads at this bedouin-tent-style restaurant. MAde it back home in less than 12 hours.
just enough time to clean my instrument.
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