Capturing the Magic

Ever have one of those days when all you want to do is get into your pajamas and hang out in bed, under your feather quilt, with some tea or cocoa and a movie or a book? That was last night for me.

It was cold, well, not even seasonably cold, but colder than it has been and that was enough to be too cold for me (who, it turns out, is apparently a weather snob). My day had been long - starting with a workout at 7:15am, running home to shower and change, then back to work (the gym is literally next door), then a long day at work, then run to mom’s daycare for a Chanukkah party, then dinner with mom.

I had been out of the house over 12 hours, and I was tired, brain dead and cold. All I wanted was a shower, pajamas and bed.

The house was dark, except the lights from our Chanukiot in the window. When I walked in, I smelled something sweet, perfumy in the air and couldn’t believe my eyes.

The staircase was covered in Rose petals. Red, pink. Pink, red. A riot of Love and Color. And alternating right and left, there was a candle on each step, lit, aromatic, and leading me to the darkened second floor, where I knew Chewbacca was waiting.

I whispered to my mom, "Are those for me?" She whispered "Well, they’re not for me!". So I whispered, "I’m going upstairs now" and she replied "That’s a good idea."

Carefully, I walked upstairs, anticipating, excited, in a daze, and nervous. All was dark. I went into my room and stopped dead in my tracks.

Chewy had strewn rose petals all over my floor. And on top of those fragrant petals was a heart made from candles, flanked on three sides by bouquets of flowers, and propped up behind was the words to our song (This Kind of Love by Sister Hazel) on a beautiful poster.

Then Chewy stepped out of the shadows. He looked fantastic. He was wearing a dark suit, French Cuffed shirt and he was stylin’! And I had missed him because he had been so distracted the past few days, it had created distance between us and I missed our closeness. I reached for him and said "Hi". He said, "Shhh, I’m on a schedule" then said, "Ok, you can say hi, that’s ok, Hi".

Then Chewbacca read me a poem he wrote about why he loves me, and got down on his knee for the last 4 lines, opened up a box which held a necklace and matching bracelet (the ring is on order) and asked me to marry him.

(I said Yes in case you were wondering)

The rest of the night is like a blur. People started coming over, family members and close friends. It is traditional to make a toast to the new couple on the night they become engaged to add a positive energy/karma to their union. The house was humming with the amount of people who came. There was so much joy and love and affection pouring out from everyone, people were so genuinely pleased for us, it was humbling, awe inspiring and precious. We frantically made phone calls to family and friends who were too far away to join us (though it seemed to me that EVERYONE knew already, as they had been clued in prior to the event. Everyone knew except me!)

The proposal was not only romantic, well thought out, well executed and ....well, perfect. It was exactly what I wanted. I am skittish about surprises and really don’t like public displays. This was private, between us, shared by no one in the moment, and something that we can treasure with each other forever.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I didn’t get to put on my pajamas until the wee hours of the morning......but I’m not complaining.

Festival of Lights (including microwaves and infrared)

I believe Chanukkah is my favorite holiday. There are others I love, but this one has always been special to me. I love watching the flames (ok, slight residual pyromania from my childhood there) and the warmth of the glow from family, loved ones and the soft light of candles burning in the window. I love driving past houses with their chanukiot lit up and feeling connected to those strangers in a visceral, history-sharing way.

I always feel less lonely on this holiday - though my years in Tennessee were difficult because I was the lone Jew lighting my pitifully small candles in a desert of humanity. The light of my menorah made nary a dent in the darkness around me. (Besides, it had to compete with the crystal meth lab down the block and they had some spectacular flares).

Chanukkah for me is a time to reconnect or seek depth in relationships with loved ones. Whether they are far away, or generally out of touch, I always feel a deepening of my love and affection for those in my life, and though I dont always reach out and make those connections again, I *do* feel them and reinforce that emotion within. Sometimes I am blessed with the ability or opportunity to express my joy and appreciation to those that I love and I try to do so when I can.

So, from my heart to yours, with lots of Love and affection- Happy Chanukkah.

G.L.O.F

If I were to be very honest with myself, I would say that for the most part, I like to control my life. I like to be able to decide for myself what I will do, where I will go, what my goals are. And though there are many negative associations with the word "control", I mean it in a positive, independent and empowered way. I like to know things. I like to be clued in. I don’t like surprises, where I can’t prepare myself for what is ahead. It’s a control thing. But it is entirely aimed at myself.
Sometimes, though, you have to take Giant Leaps of Faith. And those are tremendously scary for a person like me who is perhaps overly cerebral. Ok, not perhaps. I *am* extremely cerebral.
I like to think that I am able to make those GLOFs when they appear, not being overwhelmed with my own sense of Destiny or Ego to acknowledge the opportunity they present to move forward in time on my path, to make a small quantum jump onto a higher plane.
I have just made such a GLOF and my usual radars are spinning off the charts trying to adjust to the new heading. Once the bearings settle down, I am positive all indications will be positive, moving towards fulfillment, peace and wholeness.
And though I also can see the shoals, the rocky seas and the bad weather that crops up, I am confident that I have plotted a course towards ultimate happiness.
May God keep the helm steady and on course, and may He always be the compass by which I guide this vessel.

Chewy's Movie Review #4 - Casino Royale

Casino Royale (2006)
It's always tricky trying to revitalize a franchise. Especially one as popular as Bond. You have to give the filmmakers credit. They take a virtual unknown in Daniel Craig and they rebuild the Bond franchise around him (I for one was never a fan of Pierce Brosnan as James Bond and was very happy to see him go). Craig is the most exciting Bond since Sean Connery. I was totally digging his character. I like this edgier Bond much more. Pierce always seemed as if he could use his obnoxious smug look on his face to get him out of anything. Well - bye bye Brosnan, Hello the New Bond! The film however was good but not great. The movie was exciting and funny at times and dragged out at others. It should have been shortened by about a half hour or so and some of the plot was sketchy. It was all in all a fun ride though and one that I would recommend.

Adventures in Indiana

Guys - if you didnt know me, you wouldnt believe the story I am about to tell you. But i swear to you, this is totally true. And it happened to me last weekend.

Thanksgiving was great, I made the feast with a few twists, and it was really lovely. 2 things you need to know: 1) last weekend was the Bar Mitzvah of my cousin in Indianapolis so 90 of us descended on that poor town for the festivities. 2) on Monday I found a weird, painful lump on my rear right thigh...an inconvenient location for such ativities as walking, standing, sitting, laying down... you know. It was about the size of a bee bite, and stingy painful so i put on some anti-itch stuff and went about my business.

By Wednesday, my parasite was larger, more painful and i finally went to the Dr (while my soup and cornbread were up) and got some antibiotics, apparently it was an abscess - like a boil (biblical times come alive!) which is caused by a skin infection. Okeledokele.

Friday morning at 3:00am we get up to go fly to Indy, after all the triptophen we ate, its amazing we were even awake. We flew to Detroit where our connection was promptly cancelled and we were stranded in Detroit airport, panicking about renting cars and driving (5 hour trip) or waiting for the next flight (3 hour wait) and hoping that one can get off the ground. After all that drama, we waited and were able to leave Detroit (not a fun airport) and got to Indy at about 2pm. I took a shower at 3:30 and noticed that my alien being residing in my thigh was about golf ball size, just as hard, painful to the touch and radiating redness about the size of a softball all over my thigh.

off to the ER we went. Not a typical ER, mind you, a down home, Indiana style Chop-Shop ER, where people come when their tractors ran over their toes. And after 3 hours waiting in the waiting room, and additional hour in the exam room waiting for the doctor, where to pass the time we sang "Kumbaya My Lord" and other meaningful songs, I was given 10 shots of novicaine in my thigh and he cut open the abscess, drained the blood and pus, and scraped my skin of the hives the bacteria had formed underneath (Note: this paragraph is not for the faint of heart - well, its too late i suppose) By the way, I FELT IT ALL and it was EXCRUCIATINGLY PAINFUL. You see, when the bacteria infects your body, it raises the level of acidity in your system. Novicaine is effective when your PH is balanced or slightly basic, ergo i was in DEEP DOO DOO.

Guys - i know its funny. Really, this story is unbelievable and i wouldnt believe it myself if it wasnt me that it happened to. But it was painful and traumatic and i was shaking with reaction and pain the rest of the weekend. shaking, tembling, my bones were knocking together so hard i was sure you could hear it if you stood close enough to me.

at 4:00am sunday we flew back to NY (Thank you Expedia for the stellar travel arrangements!) and i went to my dr who referred me to a surgeon who has been monitoring me all week because the incision is STILL OPEN and DRAINING ICKY BACTERIAL PUS. sounds exciting, no? they cant stitch it up till its out, because otherwise it will make a new mound. So..... I was out of work till today (depression that i had to go back at all *sigh*) and I am still sleeping on my stomach. Sitting has gotten a little less uncomfortable.

I am allowed to shower now too (hallelujah!). Yesterday was my first shower since Friday and maaaaaaaaan! was that orgasmic! now i have to shower 2x a day to let the stuff run out of the open wound. I'm gonna nominate this surgeon for some hygenic award or another when i get around to it:)

anyways, thats why I've been out of touch. And see, i sat long enough to write this, so that must mean i am on the mend. :)

My Fair Lady - a head-scratching ending

I have seen this movie a few times in my life. Safely, I would say 5 or 6 times. And not recently. Since I was home sick, I put it on to watch, as I love Audrey Hepburn, who I think is the most beautiful woman who ever lived, and the outfits are outrageously artistic.

I understand the story is based on the myth of Pygmalion and Galatea, and the screenplay is based on the play "Pygmalion" but I am still totally baffled by the ending. And though I thought that as an older, wiser person who has experienced Love, perhaps I'd understand better the whole last part after the ball where she moves out (to where, one wonders) and she confronts him in the garden at his mothers house, then shows up at his house and he asks her for his slippers.

I'm sorry, WHAT?! You lost me on the sharp, right turn out there. So if you happen to know what I mean, please respond and explain to me how that ending makes any sense at all. In my experience with human relationships, that doesn't make a stitch of sense to me.

Chewy's Movie Review #3 - Deja Vu

Comment: Another weird ending!
Mood: Stale
Rating: 6/10

I saw the movie Deja Vu this Saturday night. Wow. I'm on some kind of roll here. This is the third movie in a row that I have qualms about the ending of the movie. I hope I get off of this unlucky streak soon.

This movie is ok. As usual, director Tony Scott has his unique style of shooting the film "at work" which I really enjoy. There are certain parts of the story which are cool like the police having a survellience system set up that they can go 4 days in the past and recreate everything that's going on in a 180 degree radius of a particular area. Which means that they can see everything that goes on and hear everything in that entire area (don't forget people that this is a sci-fi movie). I mean think about how many more crimes would be solved if the police actually had this kind of technology! It's just that some parts of the movie are real filler and others (including the ending) make absolutely no sense. I also would have liked Jim caviezel's character to have been a little more than your typical Class A psycho. Denzel is fun to watch as usual but his charisma alone unfortunately cannot save this movie from being more than just ok.

Chewy's Movie Review #2 - Happy Feet

Comment: Coulda Been Truly Great
MOOD: Grumpy
Rating: 7/10


Happy Feet (2006) This is a hard one to review. For most of the movie I truly thought this was going to be one of the greatest animated films I had ever seen. The characters really appealed to me, it was very funny, the animation is probably the best I have EVER seen!!! But the end was a mess. I understand that the filmakers were trying to convey an important message but the way that it was delivered really hurt the film. I felt like I had jumped from one movie to an entirely different one and I didn't like the second film much at all. Also the music wasn't very good (a few of the songs were not appropiate for an animated movie at all!). Listen up filmakers: Take the seriousness down a few notches next time!All in all this was a good movie however and I would recommend seeing it in the theaters for the CGI alone. If that dosen't mean much to you then wait for video.

My Own Movie Review - Happy Feet

Comment: A Good Movie!
Mood: Pleasantly surprised!
Rating: 8/10

Chewbacca and I went to see Happy Feet, the animated movie about a penguin who was born without a heart-song and is shunned by the community though he was able to express himself through tap dancing.

Here are my thoughts, per the different hats I wear:

1) voice animator hat - I liked the movie alot - it was beautifully done in animation, with heavy doses of inspiration from "March of the Penguins" (another fabulous, gorgeous movie). The voices were well cast, and the soundtrack was nicely woven with music from a number of different genres.

2) conservationist hat - I *loved* the message of this movie. It had a perfect educational zinger about littering/food chain/conservation/endangered species. And I appreciate the message that you are supposed to walk away with.

3) movie goer hat - I loved the movie - BUT the ending was awkward, heavy-handed and abrupt. Though the message is terriffic (see above) the execution was choppy and unbelievable. It is unrealistic to portray issues of conservation, fishing rights and pollution as being resolved in a relatively short period of time.

All in all, there were some really interesting theological aspects to this, like the basis of worship in the penguin community (though a little too much gratuitous Christian symbolism for my taste overall), good music, sweeping, beautiful animation, great characters and a good storyline.

The ending is my only discontent with the movie, but I still recommend it highly!

Chewy's Movie Review #1 - The Departed

COMMENT: One of the worst endings to a movie ever!
MOOD: Frustrated
RATING: 2/10

The Departed (2006) - I was very excited to go and see this film. It has a great cast. It was directed by the same man who brought us Goodfellas (probably my favorite mob movie of all time btw!). The previews looked amazing. Unfortunately you will only walk away from this movie VERY disappointed! For the first good while I was excited. It started slow and then grew very interesting by the mid mark. I was thinking that it was going to be a great movie. But all of the buildup goes absolutely nowhere by the end of this film! It has one of the WORST endings I have ever seen! Talk about a total anticlimatic joykill! I should have been somewhat forewarned with Scorcsese's recent track record. His last several movies have been pretty crappy as well. I however, love a good crime drama and after seeing the previews and reading all of the amazing reviews I felt that I had to go see this. I mean are all of the critics today on crack or what? Anyway, don't waste your money on the theater and don't bother renting this.

Check out Chewy's Movie Blog here

10 year closure

October 29, 2006

Make a note of it - This is an important historical date. It’s not going to show up in any textbooks. But history was made that day. Though when I think about it, its probably more like 15 year closure.

Mom and I had “The Talk” tonight. The subject was one that we skirt around, try to ignore, pretend it didn’t happen, and harbor all kinds of pain, anger and resentment about.

Our “break-up”.

Though in my case, I’d say, “My Disowning and Subsequent Expulsion From the Family”. I can’t speak for my mom, so I don’t know what pet name she’d refer to it by, but I can imagine it would be something along the lines of “That Time When My Heart Broke and I Lost My Daughter”. Or something. Dunno.

But she brought it up. She needed closure, and as I move on with my life, there will be less opportunities to discuss these things without other people around, etc. So she’d like me to tell her my side of the story - what happened. I resisted at first, because I felt like it would destroy the rapport we’ve worked so hard to build by going into that deep, dark pit of madness. I didn’t want to argue, assign blame and go back there. But she said she’d listen, not invalidate my feelings or thoughts, and not argue or deny, but listen and accept. So I plunged in and without embellishment, told her about That Time. The Dark Ages. The Expulsion. The loss of Trust. The Betrayal...the whole 9 yards. And I didn’t soften it, but I didn’t dwell in it either.

And she listened. Accepted. Heard me out. And apologized.

Apologized!

Those of you who know me and what I have been through could scoff and say that an apology does not even begin to repair the damage...but I disagree. More than anything, I always wanted someone to understand what I was saying, thinking, explaining. It’s ok if we didn’t agree, but the most frustrating part of my life is when people don’t understand me and I feel like I am talking to the walls. Her apology meant to me that she understood the pain she caused, the letdown, the failure as a parent to truly get to know me and meet my needs. And she said as much, which I was tremendously proud of her for, and also very, very touched.

I can’t really express the emotions we barreled through - fear, sadness, grief, pain, compassion, elation, love, nostalgia. It was a good talk, and healed so much for both of us, and it was less scary than I was expecting, which was nice. Though just as emotionally draining, which is ok.

I’m telling you this, so you can bear witness to the historical date of October 29, 2006.

Earthshattering moments should be shared.

Bible Mishaps - (be very afraid)

A friend of a friend is working as a proofreader for a company that publishes Bibles (New Testament). She has compiled a list of some of the funniest typos she's found, which I am posting here...

"And yo, you are worth much more than the birds."
"This glorifies God's power to flee his people"
"God's renown, character, immorality, and perfection all make him uniquely great."
"God's presence was the only guarantee that his people would be safe from their enemas."
"Home is where inhabitants are neutered without suffocation for who they are."
"God has total power over Stan and his evil forces."
"God explained the Day of Stonement to his people."
"This chapter records what might be the saddest event in the history of Israel, surpissed only by the crucifixion of Jesus."
"For more information on this topic, visit sickipedia.org. "
"When a time lapse complicates your emotions about what God promised, he sends reminders, grits, and encouragement to bolster your faith."
"Moses could have set the scene for God to get all the attention once water flowered from the rock."
"This was still the case when God chose Mary to beat the Son of God."
"...The Who truly respected the Lord."
"God's chosen people were gifted with sound, quality advice from their Marker."
"But ladies like Abigail, Samuel and Esther used their beauty for good."
"With loose change and gently used donations, you can support thrift stores, food panties, child sponsorships, refugee services, or countless other ministries."
"God loves seeing his people use the talents he gave them for his horror."
"The people had evidently accepted the outpouring of God's blessing and fellowship as aight, not a privilege."
"Like an ox gorged with fog, they were lazy, stubborn, and unwilling to serve God."
"My lover skips upon the mountains... "
"The listeners described in our text respond to the Worm of God with their emotions."
"People react to God's promises on many elves."
"The Weed must permeate the foundations of our lives."
"Otherwise the same superficial excitement of a swift decision will poot the truth to the side." "He had to provide leadership for his own fearful and complaining pole."
"Try meditating on the Weird of God."
"This behavior molds our character nerd guides our footsteps."

Whirling Dervishes

I love that phrase. Say it ten times, fast.

But that's really what the past few weeks have felt like. I keep thinking of tornadoes, waterspouts, hurricanes, tumbleweed.... Things that the wind whips up and makes move around at a dizzying pace and then abruptly sets down in chaos and disarrray.

Yup, that pretty much describes the past few weeks. (You know, it occurs to me that I have no idea if it has literally BEEN a few weeks or it just feels interminable that way.)

Here's the list - since I don't know that I have enough time to actually get into it all:
1) Travel to Ohio to visit a sick friend (I hate Detroit Airport!!!)
2) Endure her determined efforts to recruit me to Rabbinical School (No, I'm not interested)
3) Sick boyfriend which scares and panics me (a whole 'nother post I'm sure, to figure out the roots of that reaction to his relatively common, though painful pinched nerve)
4) Fun wedding last night where ghosts of my past manifest themselves in people at the wedding who I haven't seen or heard from in upwards of 13 years.
5) Re-discovery of another old friend popping out of the woodwork - which is cool.
6) Work sucks.
7) Have to finish making scarves to sell at Holiday Boutiques (Chanukkah)
8) Needs Assessment in Zambia - don't ask, it's like the big white elephant I am pretending I can't see in front of me.
9) One friends' break-up. One friends' miracle pregnancy (we are at 7 weeks!)
10) Wanting to go to Israel. Ireland. Zambia. Madagascar. Australia. The Moon.

I feel kind of overwhelmed actually. I havent been sleeping and so that makes me achy, tired and a little cranky, to be honest. I have some life choices I need to take care of (like finding a JOB) and I dont have the energy for it. I'd love to actually go away and relax, as opposed to the traveling I have been doing recently which is always to DO something or SEE someone. It's not over yet, Thanksgiving I have to go to Indy for a family Bar Mitzvah. And I have to leave Chewbacca behind which makes me annoyed and anxious.

I think it would be nice to breathe. Don't you?

Sometimes I look at my calendar and am amazed and appalled at how much I take on. I can't even find one stupid weekend to go away to DC to visit friends and hang out.

I think that what I really need, is a hot toddy and a good night's sleep, a calm weekend with no overbooking of activities, some hot cocoa and Chewy, hanging out in pajamas all day, and time.

Anyone willing to take bets on how much of that I can actually do?

Almost Less Homeless

Yesterday I did something totally compulsive, and as I did I felt really adult, and really REAL, but also kind of silly and what-the-hell-am-I-doing. I went to see an apartment - though it turned out not to be an apartment, but the entire ground floor of a sweet little house, on a quiet dead end street.

I'll back up. I've been feeling that restless need-my-own-space thing again. It's been a year and change and I need to move on, get my own space going, nest in it, decorate and cook and be in MY bat-cave. So I halfheartedly have been surfing around classifieds and realtors and stuff, looking at what rents are about. And yesterday I got a hit.

So - on a whim, I called the realtor and made up to go see the place during lunch. Which was about 15 minutes later.

I go to their office, which is a little hole in the wall tucked away between a bank and a gas station. The place stinks like stale cigarette smoke and the sign in the window lists the Licensed Realtor as a man. But when I go in, there are 2 women there, a mother/daughter team I later figure out, who share the last name as that licensed realtor, but are not men. So I dont really know if they are licensed. Weird. So I file that observation away. And they are both smoking in my face when I come in, which I found rude and lazy.

Now, I had spoken on the phone with a woman whose voice is so ruined by cigarettes that her age is completely unable to be determined. She also lacks people skills, phone skills, and when I met her, fashion skills - except the lugged out Infiniti she drives which I found interesting, and gaudy. The agreement was that if I were to rent through them I needed to pay a fee of 10% of one year's rent to them. That was about $1680. Explains the infiniti...

We drive to the house. (After she got lost, asked for directions, and then got lost again before finding it - this after she was gushing all about it and how it looks, when it became quickly obvious she'd never ever been there - Third Strike) Ok - so now that I have set you up to understand how much I instantly didn't like or trust this Realtor - we get to the house.

It is airy, bright, lots of windows, nice paint job with nice colors, a private back porch, large backyard, driveway and private side entrance, and storage in half the basement, gorgeous wooden flooring in the dining/room area, washer and dryer hookup, a nice eat-in kitchen with wonderful amounts of cabinets and counterspace and a large king-sized bedroom with an odd little alcove/room off to the side of it to be used as a nursery, or computer room. The weird parts were the location of the only bathroom (near the back door off the kitchen) and the closets (in the hall near the front door), and the fact that I had to bring my own fridge (?).

I truly loved the space. I loved the yard, the large kitchen, the feeling of Homeyness that you don't quite get in an apartment, the owner was a nice older woman who seemed very sweet.

But I really didn't like the Realtor, and when it came down to it, the layout was really odd, and I haven't really gotten a handle on what I can afford in terms of rent + utilities + Life. And in the end, I balked. But for a little while, I was almost less homeless. And that was a nice feeling.

Yom Kippur Blues

Boston is a really cool town. In some ways it’s so pretentious. In others, it's so totally laid back.

Forget politics. I don’t care about that. The history, the harbor, the frou-frou colleges, the squashed together townhouses in old brick that manage to look statesmanlike instead of hunched over and old. I really like Boston. It resonates somewhere in my American Soul, which I find totally strange because I didn’t think I really HAD an American Soul. But there’s something in the architecture, history and aura there that really touches me somewhere deep.

Yesterday was Yom Kippur. I spent my Day of Awe/Day of Atonement not really in a state Awe or Atonement, but it was still a profound experience. And I was in Boston. (Hence, the connection to the previous paragraph). My friend and I were leading services for upwards of 300 people. In my naivete, I somehow decided that there would only be 10 people there so it was ok if I messed up or anything. Boy was I wrong. 370 people filed in for the Kol Nidre service - which is the single most well-known Jewish prayer in the world. Actually, if you look at the words, its a legal formula that annuls any oaths and vows one may have made to God over the year. But the tune, which has been around since before the 8th century, is so stirring, and so solemn, with a gravity that belies my flippant way of describing the soul-quivering sounds of a good cantor singing the prayer.

Growing up, Yom Kippur was frightening to me, in an awe-inspiring way. I somehow believed that God was specifically paying attention to ME and MY SINS this one day, and that I was truly on trial for my choices and actions of the previous year. Not only that, there was the added stress of knowing that how well I prayed in this 27 hour period would determine how successful/happy/accomplished/healthy/etc my upcoming year would then be. Talk about pressure. But by the end of the fast, if I hadn’t fainted, I did feel cleansed, purer, more attuned to God, ethereal.

My belief systems have changed since I was 12, 13, 14 and I do not view the day with the same trepidation/excitement as I did then. To be honest, fasting is a bitch. But besides that, I get restless. Not all of the prayers really move me in any way, and the repetitions make me want to bash my head against a wall. I like the singing though.

So this year, to change it up a little (and due to some residual trauma from last year in the ‘hood) I joined a friend in this venture of leading services. And I have to tell you that though it was really interesting and different, and the day flew by, well, fast, (sorry) there was really something missing for me. It is different praying in a group of people who know when to respond, what the tunes are, and the whole choreography of the services. There is a kind of melding, oneness of purpose when everyone in the room is so on the same wavelength. It’s hard to create that sense of community in a group of strangers who are thrown together for a night and a day, with little or no prior experience.

The cool part was that the synagogue we were in had not had services for Yom Kipper in 24 years. And this was the first in over 2 decades. So that was significant. And added kind of a nice karmic touch to it all, I felt. But I left feeling a little dissatisfied. Something was missing.

As I said before, I wasn’t really in an Awe And Atoning place. I was restless. My spirit was restless, seeking some other expression of closeness to God on this, the holiest of days. I think the half hour I sat at Boston Harbor did more for my spiritual psyche then 27 hours of fasting and over a thousand pages of prayer. Sad, really. And I am left a little adrift in my belief system again regarding Judaism. It seems that I don’t fit into the place I had carved for myself, after all. Which leaves me kind of nowhere when it comes to Jewish Ritual practice.

Maybe these formalized rituals are just not for me. Maybe my free-expression has more connection for me than formulaic verse and choreographed prayer to the Being known as Deity. Maybe all this stuff and nonsense - is just, well, Stuff and Nonsense.

Interesting...and a little disturbing.

Yankees Rule the World (series?)!!!!

So...if you want all the stats, play by plays and video highlights of last night's Yankee's game - click here.

This blog is about the game - but not for die hard sports fans who need the nuts and bolts.

We took off from work, me and Chewbacca, at noon. We reasoned that driving to the Bronx on a good day takes about an hour, so with traffic, construction and rush hour (which is a total misnomer because NO ONE moves on the highways at that time of day) we'd never get there unless we went early.

We got to the bronx at 1:30 and went to see the Chihuly exhibit at the Botanical Gardens. Now, I love Chihuly - hes my favorite sculptor (along with Henry Moore and Michelangelo) and his website is at http://www.chihuly.com - so I was anticipating an AWESOME exhibit. He is a glass sculptor and they place his pieces in with the plants and flowers to dramatic effect - at least, in the other 2 exhibits I saw they did (One in Jerusalem in 2000 and one in Atlanta Botanical Gardens in 2004). But this was a HUGE disappointment. I mean, really. There were maybe one or two nice pieces, the placement was no big thing, and the gardens were not especially beautiful. Maybe it's because of the season and I'm not being fair to the flowers who probably already blossomed and died this summer, but still. I was really disappointed. I took a roll of film, so hopefully it wasn't a total loss. I felt kind of silly too after talking it up to Chewy this whole time, and it being really lame. Oh well.

We then drove to my old stomping grounds in the Bronx. It is interesting how time changes things in your mind. I remember my 'hood being larger, cleaner and more vibrant. But driving around yesterday for the first time in 6 years was a real shock and changed my memory. The buildings and streets looked so old, dilapidated, small, crowded, dirty. The stores looked run-down and tired. And the life, vibrancy and teeming masses of busy people were gone. Ok, it was a random Wedensday evening, but it was still a shock to me. Though I was impressed how easily I navigated the highways and streets as if some dormant part of my sense of direction woke up and shook off the cobwebs and directed me around my old 'hood. It was kind of sad, and a huge moving on moment. Dinner was yummy though. I was happy that of all the things that had changed, or been changed in my memories, the chinese place I used to love *still* has the best spare ribs in the Eastern half of the US.

Then, and only then, did we make our way to the shrine of the bombers, the house that Ruth built, the stadium where the ghosts of DiMaggio, Mantle, the Babe and the unforgettable presence of Yogi live on in modern greats like Jeter, Giambi, Bernie Williams, Paul O'Neill (he will always be a Yankee to me).

We had excellent seats. I didnt realize how close we were to the field until we passed a gate on the way to our seats and I glanced in, only to stop short in amazement, my mouth hanging open. We were right by home plate, where the Orioles were having batting practice, and we were really close. Chewy had to pull me over to our seats, which were in the Loge Box section, to the right of the press boxes and a little to the right of first base. I've never been to that side of hte stadium before. It-was-so-cool.

The game was unbelievable. One hit after another, one home run after another, Posada came out of nowhere to smash it out of the park and the crowd had a 4 times around wave going on. It was the most electric, supercharged, pumped up experience I have ever had at a ballgame.

Chewy and I were wearing matching Bernie Williams shirts, and I had a Yankee cap on, too. We jumped up and down, yelled, hit high fives and went crazy - it was majorly cool, majorly fun and a super night!

Blahs....

I’ve been feeling sickly for a few days.

Nothing really specific, a general malaise, and some stomach issues. Have you noticed that I get stomach issues around holidays when I have been stressing myself out? I didn’t think you noticed that pattern, I sure didn’t. *smile*

There are a lot of exciting things to look forward to: tomorrow’s Yankee Game (box seats in the Loge section), Red Hot Chili Peppers Concert and Big & Rich Concert. Plus a friend’s gallery opening in Pennsylvania exhibiting her sculptures (I will miss the opening, but will see the exhibit).

But I have to get rid of these blahs. My stomach has been upset, I have a headache and I’m generally tired. Too much partying, huh?

Yeah. Right.

I have also been feeling really unmotivated at work. I can’t seem to muster up that caring I used to have about my job and the tasks I needed to complete. I’m in a general funk about it. I am not challenged and that always spells trouble - and the death of a job for me.

So, in theory, I’m looking for a new job. But I am also kind of at a loss so I haven’t really started looking yet. I need to earn more money. Besides that, I am not sure what the criteria are for this job search and that’s baffling me. You’d think I have a great earning power with a Masters Degree - but I really don’t - unless I go into the field of International Relations - which I have no experience in so I probably only qualify for an entry-level position anyways.... so there you have it, even in the field of my degree I’m not able to earn anything really significant.

That sucks.

I’m not really complaining. I’m explaining my thoughts about where I am at and what I have to do, and expressing my stymied state in some of this. But I’m not really complaining. I’m just in a funk. And feeling kind of yukky.

Blah...

Not for the Faint of Heart.... The Dildo Song :)

A parody of a 1950's commercial for the Slinky. This is a raunchy parody, not for children, bosses or the prudish:)

Holiday Headache

Been a while...

Why do I feel like I write that a lot?!?! Probably because I do. I don’t have the time that I wish I did to properly update this blog/journal and keep it current. Then I have to backtrack and fill in stuff, and try to remember what I was thinking then, but of course, you can’t really. So that makes the whole thing a little silly because it’s less genuine. But I guess that’s part of the rant.

Somewhere I believe there is a dictionary that says Holidays = Family, (see “insanity, lunacy and morbid fascination”). I am beginning to dread EVERY holiday, not just Passover, and that is just so sad. Have you ever witnessed the mating dance of a crane? The male bird delicately steps around the female, looking out of the corner of his eye to see if she’s noticing his gorgeous plumage, his straight walk, his manliness, all the while keeping his other eye out for rival males who are also strutting around looking impressive. If he felt there was another male moving in on “his” woman, he attacks, they brawl and someone goes away. And that polite dance starts again.
Sounds lovely, no?

I feel like the negotiations for Who spends What holidays Where is a lot like that. Its a delicate and polite dance around the issue, no one really comes out and says what they are thinking and feeling, and if someone makes a “wrong” choice, they are attacked and pecked into place. Its exhausting. And quite frankly, I am ready to walk away from it all and say “screw you all”. If holidays are supposed to be family time, and a fun atmosphere where everyone is together, then why doesn’t it say “leave your issues, baggage and agendas at home” on the bottom of the invitation? Instead, these times become the arena for everyone’s pent up aggravation, issues, insults, and bruised egos to play out in the open with each other, something which can really become a spectator sport! Unless you are stuck on the field with YOUR issues, aggravations, pent up hostility and barely concealed intolerance. Then its just a free for all with no winners and a lot of walking wounded. Thanks for playing and see you next holiday for the next round. Kiss, kiss, hug, hug. Bu bye!

So now the holidays roll around, and I get SO tense. And so uptight about it. Its not like I am married and can hide behind the “oh, this year its my in-laws turn” line. I’m me. One. Alone. And expected to tow the party line, behave like a dutiful daughter and tag along with the rest of the freak show. You know, I have spent a lot of years “doing the right thing” and I have to say, that though I may be racking up some points up there, its not really doing it for me anymore. Its aggravating, annoying and making the holidays less palatable for me at all. It affects my health, my mental well-being and destroys my energy. Does that sound healthy?! I don’t think so.

The biggest shame is that in isolation, I like a lot of the holidays. (Not Passover, NEVER Passover!) The crisp air, the changing leaves, the earth slowly, drowsily settling down to dormancy. I have good memories of the food, of the fun, of the ignorant bliss of youth where you don’t catch the edge in people’s voice, and the undercurrent of anger, hatred, impatience, etc. I resent the loss of that innocent joy!!

This year, I’m stuck. I had given up and decided not to fight anymore - to tow that damn party line and stay drunk for as much of the holiday as I could manage. But passivity is not really me and its beginning to grate on me. Again.

So - Yeah, Happy Jewish New Year. Wahoo.

Love & Israel

A close friend of mine, Ilana Lipski is co-producing a monologue show called "Love & Israel" with Sissy Block, who has the coolest energy I have met in a long time. (You can write them at loveandisrael@yahoo.com if you want more info.)

I offered to help out, and was to facilitate the Q&A after the reading, though people just wanted to mingle after the performance and so there was no Q&A in the end. But that's ok. The show was really cool and they chose a nice mix of monologues some more serious, some lighthearted, and all about the writer's relationship with Israel - as if it were a romantic relationship. How did you meet? Fall in love? fall out of love? etc.

I submitted a monologue that they asked me to revise, and then I was unable to because of my fractured wrist - but I am posting it here, because I think its a nice statement about MY relationship with Israel. Bear in mind, though, that it is a work in progess and needs some fleshing out.

Here goes:

I watch the misty morning fog hang in the deepest pockets of the Wadi. Nebulous yet substantial, it drifts around the craggy rocks until the sun shoos it away, tantalizing me with half formed images and fleeting glimpses of things my eyes could not be seeing, but my brain wants to know are there.

Dawn breaks in Jerusalem. The air is still moist and sweet with dew and early morning blossoms. That quiet, tranquil period before the city truly wakes to its bustling self is shattered by a long, loud, piercing bellow. One voice, soon joined by myriad calls and wails, bellows and screeches from different throats. Each calling out to be heard, protesting their abrupt waking or broadcasting their hunger. The day has begun at the Biblical Zoo.

This is where my love affair with Israel began. In the juxtaposition of rugged beauty; a crucible of a climate; and a volatile political environment. And the simple pleasures of life; the appreciation of nature and the love of the Land. Standing in a pile of animal poop, the smell of manure mingling with muddy, Turkish coffee – I fell in love. Idyllic, no?

Working in the Biblical Zoo was almost like entering a bubble every day, a time warp, where Arabs and Jews co-existed in harmony, working together or visiting together. No matter what was going on in the outside world, we in the zoo kept up a pace of our own. Our concerns were the births, deaths and illnesses of our animals. Violence came to us in the form of one animal challenging another’s authority within the social grouping. Such conflicts were often solved without any major damage to either animal; perhaps some posturing, threatening gestures or calls, and a head butt or two, and the whole incident was over.

We existed outside of time, politics and The Situation. We left our worries about the state of the State outside the gates, and picked them up on our way out after work. We didn’t discuss, argue or protest The Matzav. Our visitors peacefully browsed through our facility, mingling with each other regardless of race, religion or creed. And the outside touched us not at all.

I am not saying that my love affair with Israel began and ended with the gates of the Biblical Zoo in Jerusalem, but the zoo was that first glance, the delicate flirting that sets your pulse quickening and makes you start to wonder things. Through my work in the zoo I was introduced to other ruggedly beautiful parts of the country; the Golan where we release captive-bred Griffon Vultures into the wild; The Negev where we repatriate Arabian Oryx back into the wild; The Hula where we track migration routes of numerous species of birds. And as the country revealed more of her secret and startling natural beauty, I was captivated. I wanted to see more, to explore her, to learn everything about her. To understand the co-existence of the lush and fertile with the barren and harsh.

I dated Israel. Weekends would see me exploring some new nook I found, whether it was the stunning stalactites and stalagmites of the Cave of Soreq or the enchantment of the Banyas River. I was intoxicated by the beauty, compelling, expansive and sometimes harsh, and I couldn’t get enough. Like an infatuated lover I would read, explore and learn all I can about the new relationship in my life.

In the process I learned about myself. I learned what makes me feel happy, feel touched, feel….Home.

And as I stood knee-deep in animal poop every morning, my heart felt full. I was in love. And I felt that Israel requited my love.

Labor Day Weekend

I know this is about a week late, almost. But its been a little hectic getting back into the groove of things. And this place just *cant* seem to run without me for too long...

Anyways, the weekend was totally awesome. I was nervous bringing The Boy (aka Chewbacca) to meet my friends because I very much seperate different aspects of my life. And because its hard to streamline a new person into a community which he has no experience with, and only knows by reputation - not to mention that my friends ALSO only know him by reputation, and things have been, well, rocky, so it was understandably an anxious time for me.

But having said that - it was all good. Sunday we had a rocking party and a lot of fun (can you believe i actually drank alcohol and got drunk???) And my friends were warm, welcoming and really cool.

Chewy and I went to Atlanta for Shabbat (sabbath) and I have close friends there who are religious. Again, pleasant surprise for me because I wasnt antsy or restless, it was just so nice to spend time with them and relax (they have the best beds i have ever slept on in my life!) and i picked up some artwork in the process. Then we drove up on Sunday to Nashvegas and the fun began!

Chewy really enjoyed the city and wants to come back already and see more (like the JD distillary and the Honkey Tonks). It was nice for me, to come back to the one place in America that feels like Home to me. Though of course things have changed, no more upstairs neighbors to rely on :-)

Missing you already, Nashville.

Cupid's Arrows....and missles, bombs and guns

Those we love are somehow handed the very weapons that would be most destructive to us. And the most amazing thing is that we are the ones handing over those weapons. In that first flush of love and rightness in the world, we want to share everything, entwine our souls with that other person, and open those rusty hinged doors to our fears and deepest thoughts.

But when the weather changes, the storm clouds move in and those deep thoughts, fears and secrets are then cast about for all the world to see, for you to confront head-on, ready or not - because the tempest that has been hurtling them at you possesses the arsenal you provided of the most hurtful ammunition around.

And even when the storm has passed, the damage still remains. Trees are uprooted, lines of communication are damaged or sparking, and everyone is walking around gingerly, waiting to see if there will be some kind of aftershock explosion.

I guess sometimes there isn’t one and there’s a strange eerie kind of deafening silence until everyone relaxes again. I wonder how people who live in war zones deal with constant tension, waiting for the explosions to begin again.

But once the storms are passed, often flowers grow as if they were waiting to burst from the ground but something had held them back, and the sheer force of the storm dissolved those imaginary boundaries. Perhaps a little violence catalyzes necessary growth. And a little outburst, argument or clash can perhaps create stronger bonds or closer knit ties in relationships.

Though somehow, I still have a suspicion that the scars lay underneath the verdant green carpet of grass..... and deep in the hearts of the people we hurt.

Land of Silicone, Kingdom of Plastic

I am back from the Land of Silicone. In case you aren’t familiar with that place, its where reality consists of being made out of more plastic parts then your neighbors, driving flashier cars than your friends and in general trying to look like a tanned, too-skinny movie star. California is a pretty state, with a very fascinating history - but LA is a blight upon the landmass on the west coast.

I didn’t do too much touristy things, I was there with my sister to visit my declining and ailing grandfather, with her two boys, aged 3 1/2 and 10 months. Needless to say, the older one ran us ragged all day and the younger one woke us up about 2 times a night.

Add to the mix that we left Monday at 4pm New York time, and came back Thursday morning arriving at 12:30am. Yeah, I’m tired.

The weather was wonderful, sunny but a little breezy, and the evenings were kind of cool - not muggy and heavy. The air was sweet and sometimes had a faint ocean-y smell. (Only in the evenings though, in the Land of Silicone, there is a smoggy haze over the city each morning obscuring the sun till about 9:30am when it burns off.... who says there’s no such thing as global warming?!)

We did manage to go to the LA Zoo (it’s terrible, I wouldn’t recommend it) and the Santa Monica Pier - though we walked on the bluff overlooking the pier and didn’t go on the rides and stuff. We never went to the beach, but we managed to watch the ocean. Personally, I like the Pacific better than the Atlantic.

We spent some great time with Grandpa Tuesday and Wednesday but on Thursday already he was sunk back into his lethargy, falling asleep even when outside playing with the children.

Here’s the lowdown on Gramps: Grandma Rose died in February. She and Grandpa David were very co-dependant and her loss has understandably made him very depressed. Add to this that David’s greatest pride in life was his intellect, and his scholarly achievements. He is fluent in 7 languages, has done research all over Eastern Europe and parts of Asia, published numerous articles and co-authored books on Jewish Genealogy, specializing in Rabbinic Dynasties, traced my family tree back 44 generations (a feat considering that all of his and Rose’s families were destroyed in the Holocaust of World War II) and proved that my family is linked to King David’s dynasty (yes, THAT King David - the Biblical one). But his mind is deteriorating and he has lost short-term memory. But he KNOWS that he is losing his mental facilities and that fills him with a great sense of loss. So he has given up living. He was engaged with us the first two days, watching the kids play, holding the baby, smiling, telling us it was “fun” to see the boys. (That’s a word I didn’t know was in his lexicon) But then we were unable to keep him awake and aware on Thursday.

I spoke with his social worker who said that the only way to pull him out of the decline he is in, is to have more family come to visit. Our family on that side is NOT very family oriented, and Grandpa has burned bridges with at least 2 of his grandsons, so they aren’t gonna make the effort. Plus, all his family live on the East Coast or overseas. So it’s easier said than done. He is on the decline though and my personal feeling is that its time to make peace, he won’t be with us much longer.

I am glad we went, though the change in him is drastic from July 2005 when I saw him last. It was startling too to see what my own father will look like as he ages. My sister pointed out to me that Dad looks a lot like Grandpa and we were looking at the future. Deep thoughts....

So, though Cali is nice, I’d skip LA next time and go to San Fran, San Diego and Napa.... and bypass the Land of Silicone altogether. I think a drive to Las Vegas would probably be cool too.

It’s hard to see time pass s abruptly. I didn’t expect him to be SO out of it. I was expecting the confusion about dates and times, but in his eyes I saw pain, fear and loss. And that was hard to see. Especially for a person like me who has inherited his love for books, learning and the intellectual pursuits.

I don’t know what *I* would do if I lost my ability to think, or my will to read.

All About Wicked - NO SPOILERS

Last night was Tremendous, and Powerful and Magickal and..... just... Wicked.

The show was good too.

HA! Actually the show was AWESOME - the music, sets, everything. The dialog was often funny, with hidden double meanings for those who are familiar with the "Wizard of Oz" - and lets face it, who isnt? Except maybe Bin Ladin... and who cares about him?!

The night was stormy and tempestuous and we had to struggle to get to the theater, but the driving rain and lightening were exhilarating and the excitement of the show I have wanted to see FOREVER was making the whole night tremendously electric.

And who knows more about electric than Times Square? Even in torrential rain. It was magnificent.

I'm gonna go again. I have to. I recommend that everyone in the world go at least once...please? You'll thank me for it!

WICKEDNESS!!!!! *grin*

Tonight I am going to see Wicked - I am SO EXCITED!! I can't wait for this day to be over so I can go into the city to see WICKED! What a WICKED time I will have! HAHAHAHA!

Ok - I have been offline for a few weeks - things have been hectic and confusing. So let me do the best I can to catch you up.

1. Golden Birthday Project was WONDERFUL! Thank you all for your participation! All in all, I received 62 postcards from all over the USA, the caribbean, italy, england, israel, china, australia - so far. I dont have the literal breakdown of states, but the South was well-represented!

2. I am NOT - repeat, NOT going to Law School. I declined their invitation. I know I told you that briefly on July 28th - but I didnt have a chance to explain it. Basically it came down to timing and money. I dont want to spend 4 years in school, then another 4 years trying to pay off the loans (about $150k) - I want to get back to my country, and the restlessness is growing. So I am now on a 2 year plan. I want back in the Middle East in 2 years, and my academics will have to fit into that timeline. (ok, i can stretch it by 6 months, but thats it!)

Working in a Law Firm, I am of course getting lots of disappointment and flak for my decision, though I know deep in the silences of my heart that it is correct, its a little wearying to face the questions and cajoling all the time. I know I'd have been good, that was not my worry, as i said, its all about timing and money.

3. The escalation in Israel is making me very restless and anxious. Being a warrior and watching a war from 6000 miles away is trying. Even though I know theres nothing I could do if i were there, my soul is itching to breathe the air, smell the sweetness of the land, and join my brothers and sisters in these trying times. i am having a hard time with the restlessness, its affecting my sleep and my general overall mood.

Decisions, decisions

So the big news is that I am NOT GOING to law school.

I declined their invitation.

The bottom line is that its a 4 year program, about $120k of loans and debt, and a committment to staying here in the US for 6 - 10 years, which I am not willing to do.

I dont regret the decision, though I am a little anxious about the whole "closing the door" thing, as I like to have options. In the meantime, I will be pursuing possibillities in the Dept of Environmental Protection, etc. and looking into perhaps another Masters Degree instead. I mean, I HAVE to be in an intellectual environment, and I truly miss academia.

*sigh* I'm feeling slightly trepidatious...

Life is a Bowl of Jell-O

Just when I think I am on a certain path, having other options and paths closed to me and I have moved past a crossroads, the signpost at the crossroads bops me over the head like a 2 x 4!

I just got into law school. And though that was my focus and goal for nearly a year, the past few months I have been convincing myself that its better this way, and i need to move on and choose a different path.

Then the earth heaves and moves around and all of a sudden, that path is reopened and beckoning again.

Totally stymied.

But it took me SO LONG and SO HARD to get in - the least i can do is go for a semester and see if i like it. right? Even though that one semester will cost me upwards of $15,000 (anyone know anything about financial aid?!?!?!)

*tears hair out*

I'm shellshocked. And grateful. And anxious, excited and afraid.

But the sense of settled I have been feeling just turned into a bowl of jell-o under my feet.

Losing those we love

I am walking around my aunts house and i cant help but notice all the little items and design elements that are unmistakably from my Grandmother.

She died two years ago, and her death resulted in a bitter rivalry between the siblings for her Stuff. I was removed from the actual events by about 1000 miles, and so I was not witness to the backstabbing, snarky, savage, greedy and selfish behaviours exhibited by her children and my grandfather. I was, however, kept abreast of the whole drama and have since then lost a healthy amount of respect for the players.

Not that people arent allowed to grieve their loss, or try to maintain a closeness by surrounding themselves with items that reming them of their loved one. I understand the emotions and feelings driving the behaviours, but I cant respect the way the whole thing was handled.

Looking at my grandmother's stuff creates a sense of nostalgia for me, but its weird because these items are out of context, out of place, they dont belong in *this* location, so it loses some of its potency. The pictures are more meaningful to me then the assorted knick-nacks and pieces of furniture. Seeing the pictures of my grandmother smiling with members of my aunts family make me wistful. We hardly appreciate people when they are around until we are forced to endure their absence. And though there arent many pictures of her and myself (though truth be told, i think there are none at all), i still feel a sense of closeness and specialness in our relationship. The picture proves nothing to me. Perhaps we never took photos becuase we were so close, we never needed to create a souvenir of the time we spent together.

I truly and deeply loved her. And I think about her often. I feel her presence very strongly in my life and I know she watches out for me, especially when I am going against the grain in The Family.

I did not receive anything from her Estate, though younger cousins have, and though sometimes I get a small teinge of annoyance about that, it passes fairly quickly, because I have enduring memories and a close, loving relationship to remember, and no amount of bric-a-brac would ever create such a bond.

I *do* miss her. And I felt pain for her to see how her family treated each other over her stuff after her passing. With both grandmothers gone, I feel an emptiness in my life that no amount of Stuff would ever fill.

In Love with Pirates

I think I should have lived in the time of the East India Trading Company. I would have been a Pirate Wench, I am sure of it.

I *love* Pirates!

And I am so totally excited to see Pirates of the Carribean 2 which opened up today. Though usually sequels to movies are pretty bad, I am hoping for a rollicking good time, and some wholesome fun.

Hot pirates are an added bonus of course:)

yo ho ho....

Deep thinking, but no deep thoughts

Things have a way of moving at their own pace. And much as I would like to speed them up, or slow them down, they all seem to continue to move at their comfortable pace in spite of, or perhaps despite, my efforts to change them.

Recently I have also noticed that life is very cyclical. Events seem to re-occur, never in the same detail, but symbolicaly similar one to the other. And I sometimes feel a weird sense of deja vu about the whole business. I would like to think I grow from experiences, and perhaps it is that growth which changes my perceptions the next time around....

Have you ever felt that there came a point in your life where everyone you ever met reminded you of someone you already know? I really believe that God had a certain number of templates for both looks, and personalities, and he just mixes them up - but if you meet enough people, then you already know All People because after a while, everyone reminds you of everyone else.

Ode to Conservation

Even before my first glimpse of the world
I was assailed by sound.
The insistent knocking of a woodpecker, intent in it's task.
The mocking laughs of hyenas.
An insistent bullfrog makes his appeal for a mate.
The droning and buzzing of insects.
The trumpeting roar of an elephant, the chattering screams of chimps.
The sweet sounds of birds chatting, gossiping, making nests for the breeding season.
Like a bustling community, the air was alive with sound.

I opened my eyes and was greeted with
the very vibrancy of life.
Every hue and every shade of every color
was represented.
The verdant greens of the leaves and grass, the brilliant gold of the sun.
A flash of red in the bush - a tail of a squirrel, more interested in his search for nuts.
A shy brown eye peeks out from the treetop - a lemur looks out on the world.
Earthy browns and tans float by, patterend like camoflage tablecloths. A herd of Giraffe.
Colors, textures, feathers, fur and scales. All were a sight to behold.
Some melded with their surroundings so well as to seem
a part of that tree or rock on which they sat.

Something rings false.
They are not preying upon each other, as they would in nature.
What then is this congress about?
My eyes are caught and held by that gentle lemur.
In his eyes I see. They must band together
to survive the worst predator of all.
It is unnatural.

The air gets cold, the sun wan and sickly.
The noises are becoming fainter until
an eerie silence reigns.
The silence is deafening.
A ghost of a wind wails
for the diversity of nature, gone.
For the riches of earth, gone.
The rebuke is just, but it is too late.

Man wails and beat his fists on the deadened ground.
And appeals for another chance, to bring life back to this desolate place.
I turn my back and walk away.
The speaker for the dead.
The living monument to the folly of Mankind.

Think you in your arrogance to bring them back?
With your sciences and progress,
and refrigerated genes?
To what end? To prove your mastery over nature?
Over the glorious mystery that is Life?
Were the billions of dollars worth
the annihalation of the rainforests?

Stand now and watch
the slow death of Earth,
our nurturing mother.
And know that it was within you to prevent it.
All the while.

The Meaning of Life

Sleep eludes me. Actually, I have been fighting a losing battle with that dream-filled state wherein your body and mind regenerate and renew. Either my sleep is haunted by nightmares and horrific dreams, or my ever restless mind wont cease its wanderings enough for me to fall into sleep.

So I end up at 12:20am blogging silly thoughts and obscure points of philosophy in an attempt to appease Morpheus, Lord of Dreams in exchange for one night's peace of mind. Maybe these thoughts that need to be heard are an offering of sorts to the Gods of the Mind in exchange for quiesence in that vast chamber located in my skull, that teems with activity at all hours, like the Grand Central Station of deliberation, contemplation and intellect.

In any case, here is another silly blog: The Meaning of Life

I have decided that I know what the meaning of life is. Although, this is my interpretation, and thus only applicable to me. Others have differing Meanings of Life, which is as it should be, because each person's life is unique to them, and it stands to reason that the Meaning of such grandiose concepts such as Life, should be individual as well.

Well, so here is what the Meaning of Life is to me: Connection

Sounds simple, no? The great things usually are. But I will explain. To me, the meaning, or purpose, of the journey of Life is to make connections. To connect to nature, beauty, people, cultures, art - things that move us, that make us want to learn, explore, experience, be better people. Things that inspire us to try, to try again, to reach out. If I were ever in a situation where I could not make a connection to someone, or something around me, I would feel cut off from the beauty, the point, the essence of Life.

It is fascinating to me to talk to people. To learn about their lives, their concerns and hopes, their passions and pain. To connect. Even though there is almost never anything i can do to make their problems go away, or change their plight, i like to feel that they walk away with a sense of being less alone in their tribulations. i believe there is always something to learn from each and every person. and if you listen hard enough, you can walk away with that lesson, and be a better person for just having that conversation with the stranger on the train.

When i am sorely troubled with my own worries and issues, i make an effort to chat people up on trains and buses, or in the coffee shop or on the street. i always find that someone makes me feel better inadvertently, though they know nothing about whats on my mind, simply because they respond in a friendly way and make me feel less alone.

Simply put, loneliness is the Antithesis of Life. Connection is the Meaning of Life.

At least, *I* think so.

Musings on Nationhood

What is the soul of a country? Its people? Its culture? Its history? Its accomplishments?

How do you measure the contribution of a country or nation peopled by diverse individuals who, even as a group, can't be lumped into one huge monolithic stereotype of nationhood?

And what is more important for a Nation - its contribution to the betterment of the plight of its people, or its contribution to the worldwide community of nations to which it belongs?

What truly governs a nation - the needs of the majority of those that rely on its protection and power? Or a collection of the chosen few with the money, connections, and clout who represent, ostensibly, the needs of the nameless, faceless masses on whose backs he/she stands?

Pedestals are precarious places to stand on. One small step in any direction and you are likely to fall off altogether.

If I were a nation, would I prefer to be known as the one who enriched the world with art, music, literature and dance? Or would I prefer to have the reputation as the "strong one", the "tough one", the "top of the food chain"? Would i prefer to have a poorer per capita income, but a healthier populace, both in body and spirit? Or would I prefer to make my focus entirely financial, regardless of the effects pursuing profit may have on my citizens?

How does a nation's personality develop? Are the leaders, who represent the epitome of Nationhood, the ones who create images and impressions that become known as personality traits of Nationals from that locale? Is it a perception fostered and bandied about by the community of nations in the world which makes a nation stereotyped as being a certain way? Can one international incident create such a strong perception as to change the way the world treats with said nation?

Do nations have rights as an entity? does one nation, notwithstanding the desires and needs of its citizens, have the right as a monolithic entitiy to impose ideas, ideals or beliefs on other nations? to not play nicely with others in the sandbox? to forcefully take what it feels it wants, or pressure another nation to give up something it holds dear on a whim? would that nation then have the right to object, resist or fight back?

and who would monitor and police all these altercations should they occur on a playing field as large as the world itself? who governs such interactions?

does size matter? Can a small nation not make as large an impact on world affairs? Do large nations have the responsibility to look after and care for the smaller nations? do smaller nations deserve assistance from other nations, or should they just be absorbed into larger entities?

What role should people, individuals, ordinary citizens, play in the steering of a nation? do ordinary people need to know alot about politics, economics and diplomacy to have valid concerns, opinions and feedback for their governments? wouldnt it be snotty of governments to turn around and ignore its populace because they are ignorant of the science of politics? who in fact would they be serving at that point? In fact, who would the Nation itself be serving if it ignored the requests, thoughts and concers of its people?

Nations, people, empires - they all rise and fall. History is the great equalizer. and although it is written by the victors, the pattern of history since time, is that it is entirely cyclical. Everything is interconnected. the rise of one power creates a sentiment that in 40 years, after incubating under a regime of terror or pain, explodes fully formed in a fiery birth of revolution to establish a new regime... which over time becomes corrupted until a new regime rises, yet again, under the leadership once again, of a tyrant.

But what is the soul of a country? Where does its spirit lie?

I do not know. But I would not want to be the nation which is known as being "soulless"

Wind in my Soul

I have a restless spirit. I possess an insatiable curiosity about what lies on the other side. An incurable wanderlust; a need to know, experience and learn about new places and people.

The wind drives this restlessness and makes my body a poor vessel for containing the bursting effervescent soul that yearns to be free to ride the wind to its end; to whisper in the treetops, flirt with hair and skirts, playfully skim across the waves as they march inexorably to shore, to chuckle among the rivers and brooks, to draw leaves out of their complaisence and make them dance, to whistle, scream and thunder around the plains, the golden grasses swaying like belly dancers to my whims. Sometimes I wish to be gentle, to caress the warm skin of an upturned face. Sometimes I wish to be strong, to usher in clouds and storms, to vent my anger or frustration and wreak a little havoc, to display my power.

As I stand in the wind, letting it blow through me, and around me, it sweeps me up on its journey. My soul dances, and aches to join the ride. I close my eyes and let myself be the wind in my soul.

And as the whimsical wind whips my hair and teases, my soul settles back in my body and grumbles. Oh, to be free!

Image vs. Reality

I always wonder about people who dress the way that faddish style dictates, even if they look stupid, ugly, ragged, fill-in-the-blank. I mean, just because some random fashion person decides that everyone needs to wear skirts that look like they were destroyed by a lawn mower, doesnt mean that 1) its pretty or 2) everyone looks nice in decomposing fashionwear.

So I have to wonder if people look in the mirror and are happy with the way they look in that ragamuffin skirt, or do they just see the image of the mannikin in the store looking back at them looking like the queen of the homeless?

I think people should be honest with themselves. Some body types are just NOT cut out for the fashions of today. Find nice clothes that you arent falling out of, or looking like a hippo with a glandular problem. Get pretty colors, that make your complexion glow, not washes you out or makes you look like a week-old corpse.

And to the fashion people, hey, congrats on leading millions of sheep to buy ugly, unfit clothing for themselves. The rest of us have to look at them, you know.

Cutlery Stuck in the Ground (aka Forks in the Road)

There is a poem, by Robert Frost (1874-1963), that I am posting on this blog. It is one of my collection of poems that I love. It spoke to me way back in 10th grade when I was first introduced to American Literature, and has always been part of the script on my inner monologue.

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


Often have I stood at a crossroads, listening to the voices in the wind, God blowing in my ear, and the silences of my heart for guidance as to which path to tread upon. Some choices have yielded a smoother, more scenic route through life, and some a treacherous path filled with hidden dangers and pitfalls to catch the unwary. I am ashamed to admit that sometimes I was taken in by these traps and forced to endure detours on the journey just to attain the place where I strayed and from there continue on my designated path.

But life is like that.

I seem to be standing at those bedamned crossroads more often recently and I am getting tired of scratching "I Wuz Here" on the signpost every year or two.

Suddenly, the terrain has become more complicated - more 3 dimensional. Not only is this a life path, its also a career decision based on future goals. Or a life decision based on career goals. Or a decision on what to eat for breakfast based on what I will be in the mood for dinner in September.

I'm so frustrated with the choosing. The variables have gotten complicated.

I have always been a "road less traveled" person. I'm not one to follow fads, styles and whatever everyone else is doing. I'm not a sheep. I like to do things my way, that make me happy, even if its against social norms or what "everyone else" does. I simply don't care about Them.

In choosing the road less traveled, I have in many ways enriched my life. Experienced things that people only dream about, if they can comprehend them at all. But I have also chosen a lonely path. Not many people are willing to fight through bramble or bushwhack through the tall grasses. I meet other people at crossroads as well. And their paths are equally as interesting to me as my own.

So I am back to being alone, and on this complicated, twisty path. I better go find my hiking boots. I think I'm gonna need them.

Creeping Tendrils to the Outside

So if I am a nature lover, and I connect to the earth, air, sky and water in a spiritual way, then what the Hell am I doing inside all day in this office without even the smallest breath of fresh air?!

Youd think I'd take up smoking just for the chance to have a valid excuse to get out of the office for one minute every little while.... do you think you can have "deep breathing breaks" insted of "smoking breaks"? Somehow I dont think it is the same thing.

I remember as kids where we could run around all the time laughing and falling on the ground and rolling in the grass and basically enjoying our surroundings. And for some reason, we were told that it is childish to behave that way and we need to grow up.

I think a lot more creativity would come to the world if everyone worked outdoors, with their shoes and socks off, on the grass. Imagine how much more we could accomplish if everyone actually made contact with the earth, let her energies flow through their body, and actually relaxed a little during the day.

I think I'd love to be in the sunshine, the wind blowing my hair, the ground under my bare feet - I am positive it would be a conducive work environment for me.

Instead, I am stuck in this office, with no environment - its bloody hot in here, and I havent breathed sweet air all day.

....and this is the grown-up thing to do?!?

Back from the trip - still on the Journey

Summation. The journey is physically over, but the ripple effects are still moving on. Leaving Israel was hard, but I am so convinced that I will be back - it was almost a "see ya later" type of feel instead of a "when will I see you again?" feeling.

My last day there was spent simply Being. Breathing the sweet, warm air. Hanging out with sis, packing. Breakfast with a friend. Sitting in the sun on the porch, absorbing the warmth, the smells, sounds and view.

I found out that my ex is remarried - that made me laugh...seriously. It took my by surprise and I didnt believe it at first, but it was confirmed by an over-protective and duly apologetic sister who was trying to protect me from some major wiggage that did not manifest itself.... i dont know what she was worried about, the whole concept is so funny to me, i chuckle every time i think about it.

So - I amend my closure post - closure is funny:)

Coming back to the US was kind of sad and a little bit of an adjustment. Even though I was only gone for 2 weeks, I had so completely and confortably clicked right back into the pace there, and the culture, that coming back was a little bit of a jolt.

No more milk in plastic bags (seriously, there are no containers) and no more free incoming calls on cellphones.

I am already homesick again, but I feel such a sense of tranquility and serenity in the fiber of my being that I will return, and it will be at the exact right time. In the meantime, I will have to organize my life here to compensate for that ultimate goal, and figure out what really needs to be done to facilitate it.

I loved connecting with my friends, favorite places and memories.

This trip was transcendent and wonderful.

I am at peace.

Galivanting around the Galilee

Today was dedicated to fun. I put aside this day to drive all over the Galilee and Golan heights with a friend, visiting wineries and immersing myself in my absolute favorite place on earth bar none.

It all started at 5:30am when I bounced out of bed at a friend's house in Jerusalem. I quickly dressed and went to the corner to be picked up by my friend. we stopped 5 minutes later for coffee and breakfast wraps (so good, mine was avocado) and drove east to the jordanian valley.

The cool thing about the drive is that you are actually driving on an incline and heading down to -1400 feet below sea level. So every couple of miles, there is a sign that says "you are +400 feet above sea level" or "you are now at sea level" (there was a camel standing infront of that sign so we didnt see it in time to take a deep breath as if we were about to go udner water). we didnt go all the way to the dead sea, which is the lowest point on earth, but we went about -800 feet beloe sea level to the Jordanian valley and drove North in the valley towards the Galilee.

Usually the Biqu'ah as we call it, is barren and sandy and very desert-like. but this has been a wet winter so the whole drive was colorful with little scrub bushes on every sandy hill and teeny flowers popping up all over the valley. i have never seen it that way before and it was very lovely. the Biqu'ah looked like it was carpeted in a delicate velveteen green. i have to confess that i hate deserts, i cant tolerate the barren, harsh, rugged ebauty of it for too long. i need greenery, trees, growing things... so that made the ride pleasant and was a wonderful surprise.

a word here about my favorite place on earth. The Galilee/Golan is really geographically a small area. But when you are standing on a hilltop, looking out on the Sea of Galilee, Tiberias and Jordan all in the same panoramic view, and the sun is streaming through the clouds like rays of love from God and the sky is so blue as to shame every sapphire in the world with its brilliance, there is no place on earth that can encompass such an expanse of beauty in one blink of an eye. and THAT is how i feel about the Galil. When i am there, my heart is light, and filled with an inexpressible joy. i feel totally connected and grounded, yet i can hear the wind singing and feel the pulse of the birds flying overhead. i connect to the fertile vibrancy of the earth and the sweet waters of the sea of galilee and the jordan river. and it just brings me to life; cleanses and refreshes; newly rebirths; empties me out and fills me up again. and i feel energized and worry-free. this, to me, is a place of Power.

the drive north to our destination is only about 3 hours, so we got there by 11:00am. we went straight to the Golan Winery, took the tour and tasted 4 types of white wines. we befriended the tour guide and got some more "tastes".... i got really buzzed and started singing "when the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, thats amore" but then i decided to comment on everything that was happening around me all day by fitiing it into that chorus, so ALL DAY LONG i was singing that song with made up silly words and poems. my poor friend was laughing so hard and i dont know how he didnt get totally sick of me doing that all day - but i digress. (a sample: "when you drive pasr Meron, and youre on your way home, thats amore" or "when youre seeing your sister and you loved and missed her, thats amore" - seriously, these are the genius poems i was singing all day. total doggerel. but addictive)

So here i was, cheerfully tipsy, and we started off to another winery, where we took ANOTHER tour and drank some red wines. I think we tasted 10 varieties, and forget buzzed, i was REALLY tipsy by that time! I was also on an empty stomache, which was not helping the inebriation.

We drove all over creation up north and had a realy fun time of it, we were laughing all day and singing silly songs. it was wonderful and precious and something i truly needed to regenrate and renew, to laugh and relax and have fun (and maybe to be a little bit drunk).

*interesting thought* i wanted to share this with you, and see if you had any thoughts about this. we started in Jerusalem, city of Fire. Drove through Tiberias, city of Water, which I have always loved and connected to, and went to Safed, city of Air which I hated and was majorly having a bad time in until i finally made us leave before we did our activity there.

The only city i havent been to is Hebron, city of Earth..... but isnt that kind of interesting?

Closure Sucks

Everyone says they want closure. To end a chapter in their life and be able to move on and begin again or continue evolving. My whole intention of coming on this journey was to achieve a level of closure about my past, my issues and fears and residual trauma from the events which made me leave in the first place.

But closure sucks. Im not the kind of person to cling to the pain as if it were a security blanket, cherishing the excuse to behave a certain way or do some things that are *just* on this side of dangerous. But it does mean that whether or not I am prepared for it, this chapter has ended. Over. Finished. Bye bye.

And it caught me unprepared and unawares. So now I am scrambling to pull together my scattered emotions and thoughts about this turn of events, and pack it up nicely along with other resolved issues in my therapy trophy room in my head.

My ex sent a bunch of boxes over today with my stuff. Only 2 out of the 5 items I actually requested were among the refugees, but sorting through the boxes was a trip down a path of memories I had thrown the map away to.

I managed to sift everything down to one large sized box, which I am trying to figure out how to get back to the US.

This is the culmination of months and months of negotiations, frustrations and reliving the horror of being married to that man.

BUT - its all over now. And I have closure. Big whoop de do.

Its kind of a letdown.

Poopyhead.

Jerusalem of Gold, City of Old

Yesterday was almost too much to express in words. If I thought I was homesick in Nashville, when things would all of a sudden hit me with a wave of nostalgia, I was unprepared for the flood of memories that overwhelmed me while walking around Jerusalem yesterday. Sometimes, these meories served me well, like when I was directing my sister to a great little eatery offf the beaten path, and I was able to navigate the twists and turns like it was second nature. I think it really is a dormant part of myself that was able to express its comfort and ease at immersing back into this culture and place.

The first place I went to was the Old City. We drove through the Jaffa Gate, where the Arab outdoor market ("shuk") is, and the Armenian Quarter. We parked and walked through the Jewish Quarter to the steps that lead to the Western Wall. The Jewish Quarter, "Rovah", is ancient. The stones are worn down from being traipsed on by millions and millions of feet; historical figures, pilgrims, fanatics, non believers, conquerers and patriots. I walked on the stone streets that the Roman Legionnaires walked when they occupied Jerusalem at teh beginning of time as we count it. The roads are for foot traffic only, there are houses and building at odd angles that make for interesting, meandering pathways and surprise junctions. It is a rabbit warren of stone. The roads are narrow little alleyways and pathways that seem to go on forever. The light seems to glow, not shine from all over as if the sun's rays are refracted into an overall effect of light, as opposed to rays that penetrate certain places and not others. The Rovah smells sweet, with a faint odor of damp marble. Everything is made of "Jerusalem Stone" which has a faint pinkish hue, and it serves to also lighten the area, even though it is quite ancient.

I made a beeline for the Western Wall. Wall of tears, prayers. Always, it is breathtaking to see, from up high and as you descend the steps that lead to the plaza. A small remnant of the Temple of Solomon, it still towers in majestic simplicity, a wall of stone amid archeological ruins, haphazard buildings, and the throngs of faithful and visitors who come to pay their respects. To some, this is God's address, and the local call you can make to speak with Him. To others, it is a living testament to the continuity of history and the ebb and flow of political powers.

I had forgotten about the letters. Millions of little papers stuffed in between the stones, the wall overflowing with people's letters to God. In eery language in the world, containing hopes, dreams and prayers, people leave God little notes, like calling cards, in the crevices of the Wall.

The stones were cool to the touch. Regardless of being bathed in direct light all morning, they did not absorb the warmth, but rather provided a welcome and gentle coolness to the fevered touch of those overwhlemed with the enormity of their location. Supportive and silent, the Wall accepts all who come to visit. There is a song in Hebrew about the Wall, the best line is, "There are people with hearts of stone, there are stones with the heart of man".

My fingers trembled as I reached out to touch the Wall. I kissed it's welcoming stones and laid my forehead against their steadfastness. I felt contented, peaceful and filled with a coolness that eased the anquish of my daily concerns and issues. I did not pray, but I did commune with the presences I felt, with the living history I was immersed in. I did leave a note for God, though. I had only one request.

After a little while, I left with serenity in my heart and a bemused cleansing feeling in my emotional state. It was a powerful Wall, this humble little pile of stones. I sat gazing at it from afar for a while...then I left. I cant describe the jumble of emotions I felt sitting there - its all still a little too visceral to express.

I spent the rest of the day catching up with friends, running ot different parts of the city, juping on and off buses like a pro. I was amazed how much I did still rememebr about getting around and where I was going. It was cool, and a little weird. But I had a nice time, and I am very blessed when it comes to friends. I bought some jewelry, and small gifts, and in general had an emotional, rich, wonderful, full day.

I udnerstand my homesickness while in the US, and I am absorbing the ache, and the bittersweetness of my visit here, now, as I know I need to head back there in a week. I miss being here.

Israel Impressions

Yesterday I took care of the "business" part of my trip. In fact, I have the world's record on how quickly it took to get through the buerocary I had to deal with just to change my name and address on my ID, and to request a form that lists all my travels into and out of the country (which I will need at the tax ministry to prove that i dont owe taxes for the past 3 years as i wasnt living or earning here). Guess how long that took - 20 minutes TOTAL. In and out. Amazing.

Driving around the city my sister lives in has been a good way to ease back into the culture here. I think I have been hesitant to jump in and go back to my old stomping grounds. I needed to catch up on sleep at least, and be fully functioning. So Sunday is the day I go to Jerusalem. I have a small shopping list (a ring for myself from a jeweler in the Old City, some gifts, etc) and top of the itinerary is going to the Western Wall.

Meanwhile, the smells, sounds and general pace here has been creating so many pangs of nostalgia and memories and homesickness, all at once.

Gotta run....

Roman Holiday

Bonjourno!

After a check-in adventure, things were pretty smooth leaving New York. I arrived in Rome, Italy at 8:15am local time - which, for the mathematically weak (like, me for example) is 2:15am. I was sitting at a window, on the right side of the plane and when we were landing, the sun glistenend off the sea, the umbrella pines reached up to the sky, looking like poodle tails. The homes all had beautiful red terra cotta tile roofs and the whole scene was just so Mediterranean, my heart kind of jumped and I was so happy to be back in the region.

I was sitting next to a nice woman named Shelly who is a bronze and marble sculptor. She lives in a little village north of Pisa and was in the US making arrangements for a gallery showing in October. We discussed art, philosophy, books, it was wonderful and the time passed very quickly. In the end, I only slept about 3 or 4 hours. She invited me to the gallery show and joined the Golden Birthday Bandwagon.

I went via train and bus to the Rome Zoo first. Though, that trip took about 1 hour longer than it should have because I dont speak Italian and the bus drivers kept forgetting to tell me when to get off! I met with IY, who used to be my boss in the Biblical Zoo and is now the Curator of Mammals at Rome. The zoo was not that great, though to be fair, its almost 100 years old. He was raelly helpful though in that he also gave me maps and a sense of what i should plan to do to maximize my time. I had to be back at the airport at 9:00pm.

"I" sent me through the terraza near Villa de Medici and past Villa Burgese, where there is a huge collection of Bernini statuary. The day was a litlte cool, but sunny and the walk was pleasant. The trees were beginning to bloom and it was kind of mesmerizing to hear the lilting sounds of people's conversations in Italian around me. The terraza overlooked a valley filled with a mix of old ruins and ornate architecture. I followed the path down to the Piazza de Poppolo, which has a tremendous obelisk in the center, and an eliiptical ring of shops and old buildings surrounding. the scene was at once so quaint and yet ancient, that I wandered, bemused around the Piazza, looking at all the shops and buildings. I saw frescos, statues, historical landmarks, coffee bars (Just called "Bar") and chapels (Basilicas). Using the only three words I knew, Prego (Please), Grazi (Thank you) and Arividerci or Ciao ('Bye) I made my way down a large street called Via de Coro, which had shops, marketplaces, artists, coffee bars, and a bustling crowd of shoppers and tourists. When I say tat this was a major street, What i mean is that its actually a 2 way road, though there is really only room for one car at a time. I havent decided yet if its more dangerous to be a pedestrian or a passenger in Italy. Its a toss up.

Every block there were enticing little winding streets or alleys that branched off, and following them sometimes lead to wondrous and rewarding sights. I stumbled onto the artist colony alley while looking for the Pantheon. And I managed to find my way to Triveri fountain, which is famous, by meandering around the alleyways.

At the end of via de Coro is a huge intersection where and imposing building, called the Altar of Nations stands. I dont know what its funcion is, save that it was my landmark, but I didnt go in. I went around it and headed to the Colloseum. I walked around the Arch of Constantine and Titus, though I was too late to get too close to Titus and see the famous relief sculpture of the Menorah being taken away from Jerusalem when it was conquered in 70CE. That saddened me a little.

The Colloseum is imposing and majestic, but in a cruel and brooding way. The edges of the crumbling ruin look jagged and slightly menacing.

I met some Penn State students and we walked around a little bit together. They had some tips on things to see too.

I missed seeing the Sistine Chapel. which I would really have loved. I sat at a "Bar" and drank REAL cappucino, like, ITALIAN capuccino and I have to say - it is SO GOOD. I also noticed that pizza is served in restaurants, with cloth napkins and eaten with a fork and knife. The crust is so thin - it looks like flatbreads! So much for folding a slice in half and eating it while you drive:)

I walked all over creation it seemed, and shot a roll of film. It was a very full day, and very satisfying. I was listening to my MP3 player all day and the music added to my sense of being on a tour all of my own.

When I left for the airport, it was getting dark and chillier. I felt satisfued that i had a full day and i was more than ready to collapse.

So i got on a plane to Israel, had a row to myself and slept a few hours for the flight.

When I got here, the sweet smelling, early morning, misty air greeted me like and old friend and I was touched and choked up at being back.


Missing you terribly,
Ciao