getting ready for xmas

Last week my cubemate was off serving the country in the reserves so I took the opportunity to play (read: BLAST) some xmas songs. My good friend Tim, download queen, gave me a bunch of xmas songs and I was rocking the open space with them (Thanks, Tim!). Most people (even those wearing kippers) didn't mind. Although they did joke that they would take my certificate away.

At home we've had the sparkly lights we got in Haifa last year on the tree. Its a real evergreen fir tree but its a bit of a stretch for it to aspire to be a xmas tree. Its branches are weak and droopy. The tree is about 3 foot tall. With the lights and the xmas songs playing it just about does the job.

I've had no mince pies, no carol singing, no xmas office parties, seen barely a sprig of tinsel.
The kids have been taught the true spirit of xmas. That means: tree, gifts, father christmas, and gifts, set to a soundtrack of Dean Martin, Bing Crosby, and Elvis. I know some people get all angry that xmas has become so commercialized and that people today miss the true spirit of the Lord Jesus Christ's birth. I remember being like that in my former incarnation as a practising catholic.

Today I am many many moons away. I want my kids to know that excited feeling of presents and stockings. The gifts are relatively small and not about what's the biggest next best thing. Tomorrow I am taking them back to England to try and capture a bit of the season for them. On the one hand I should have gone earlier as preXmas is always funner than postXmas. On the other hand, it was important for me that they light the hanukah candles with their grandmother and friends, and remember the miracle of the oil. Of the Maccabeans winning against Hellinism. I know all the words to O Come All Ye Faithful IN LATIN! but I can barely get through Surah Hoshech, Ner Li Ner Li or Sevivon Sov Sov Sov.

Yes, we are going for xmas. But I am going to pack a hanukiah. I call this coexistance.
For us this is about celebrating traditions.
Its hanuxmas my way. And I don't think you can judge me.

i swear to you my back is swollen

top 10 thoughts that crossed my mind on the massage table
1. That's my writing hand! Patti was going to kiss that!
2. Bending my leg like that...that's a departure to the norm...
3. What are these monks chanting?
4. Sounds like No Sacrifice by Elton John.
5. IT IS No Sacrifice by Elton John.
6. Monks chanting Elton John. That's just wrong!
7. Did you work for easterneuropeantorturors.com?
8. Do you hate your parents or something?
9. Did you just split up with your boyfriend?
10. Ou...ou...OUCH!

top 10 thoughts that crossed my mind on the massage table that didn't make it into the top 10
1. What's that bowl down there for?
2. Mm...that's nice.
3. I'm going to dribble...
4. ...ohhhhh that's what that bowl's for.
5. Wait, that's less nice.
6. That's unusua...OUCH!
7. Your elbow is in my buttock!
8. That is so going to bruise!
9. I don't think my legs were designed to be bent like that!
10. This manouvre...isn't this what Geena Davis did to put a deer out of its misery in the Long Kiss Goodnight?

december: early morning in petach tikva

we may be in THE EXPERIMENT, but we still have a pulse

Our offices are located in an industrial park which they are still building so there are an abundance of empty lots and scrub areas. It is for this reason THE EXPERIMENT gave us 2 in-house dining areas with consistently dire options and that's why we experimentees never get fed a decent meal (lack of healthy dining options) or leave the building during work (read, DAYLIGHT) hours. Some people ARE brave enough to risk losing clocked minutes and go for a walk around lunchtime just to break the monotony and to get some fresh air.

The other day I was having lunch with my esteemed colleague in the cafeteria when her cubemate came running in all bright eyed and bushy tailed. "There are two lesbians on that empty plot outside doing it on their lunch break!!" The man could hardly hide his bulging enthusiasm. "If anyone needs me…I'll be outside!" and off he ran.

After lunch today I got a call. The esteemed colleague's cubemate. "Too bad you didn't pick up earlier! The lesbians were back!" He then proceeded to explain their antics in such graphic detail that I don't doubt that he left breath condensation and a large drool smudge on their windscreen. "I'm going to take you tomorrow to show you!"

About 35 minutes later I got an email from my esteemed colleague. "I'm coming on your field trip tomorrow". Feels like we all need some fresh air.

not that i'm that great of a dresser, but...

I think we should talk about attire in the workplace. Although we all have days where we like to slob out, lets not forget that the workplace is where you spend most of your life's daylight hours, and looking your best should be prioritized in there along with making sure you eat lunch and not acting like a 12 year old. If not for anything else but to maintain some level of decorum.

Israel is a much more relaxed work environment than most countries. I remember working for Vodafone back in England and they enforced a dress code for people who answer the phone. This was a place where people were closed in a room for 8 hour shifts and whose only responsibility was to answer the phone. Zero visual customer contact. And yet, jeans were not allowed. I had a friend working for Adecco who was forbidden from wearing bootleg trousers lest any job seeker or potential employer interpret the wideness of the bottom of their trousers as lack of professionalism.

Here are a few fashion violations that make my eyes sore on a daily basis:

• Tucking of sweatshirt into jeans
• Wearing socks with sandals
• Wearing white socks and black shoes. (If you grew up where I did, you SO know about this. I don't know why Guildford, Surrey was the cornerstone of sock-shoe etiquette, but we all knew the singsong "white socks, black shoes: KEVINNNNN!")
• Wearing trousers that are too short. Correct length has trouser falling onto shoe. No ankle flappers, please.
• Dressing like a granny when you aren't even 28.
• Looking like you couldn't quite make your mind up between beach and work and compromising by dressing for the beach and coming to work in Bermuda shorts.
• Trainers. Running shoes. Sneakers. Whatever you want to call them. If they aren't new, don't wear them to work!
• Animal print skin tight tops.
• Shorts or even ¾ length trousers.

There are a couple of people in my company who dress very well. Its always great to see what outfits they have put on. They are edgy. They are cool. There are other people who have a signature look. There's the guy who always wears a beret. David always wore Hawaiian shirts. The lady who always wears stilettos. She's the one who was really worried about the air vents when she heard they were going to be placed in the floor in the new building. Must be ok because we've been in the new building for a year and a half, and she's still wearing stilettos.

Then there's another guy who always dresses top to toe in one color. We see him everyday and his whole outfit is the same color. Even the shoes. I don't know about the underwear. My cube-mate asked me if he is a color specialist who is branding himself. So I asked around about the color thing and the only information I gleaned was that he likes big breasts. One morning he got into the lift with me so I broke protocol and offered "today the day is purple, ah?" The dude was very surprised that I (an almost stranger from another department!) had noticed that he has this thing! He confided that he has 22 colors that he wears in a rotation. The guy simply OCD-has to wear the same color. I happen to know that some days he breaks a little and will wear a striped shirt with MORE THAN ONE COLOR in it…gaah! One day I saw him and he was wearing blue. "Blue today", I said. "Light blue", he corrected me.

I quite like his color clothing peculiarity. Having your own signature is cool. But I can't abide by that sweatshirt tucked into those jeans. That's the signature of bad taste!

young man, are you listening to me?

Over the weekend I took the twins to the birthday party of two of their friends. I am obsessed with going to kids parties even though when I’m there I could rip off my ears from the noise and scratch my eyes out with boredom. No, I like going for one reason alone: I have to know that I throw the most kick-ass parties.

Parties are important to me. I always loved them when I was growing up and it is really important for me to create the best memories and Kodak moments for my kids.

I have a vigorous rating system used to judge other people’s parties on various categories:

Category 1: Strength of entertainment.

When I was growing up, having a clown was unheard of. It was all pass the parcel, pin the tail on the donkey, musical statues, musical chairs, and dead lions. I was great at dead lions because if there is one thing in life I can excel at its being still and not doing anything. I am champ at that. But now I live in Israel and there is no way on god’s sweet earth that I am going to attempt controlling a room full of rowdy 4 year olds with my Hebrew. I draw the line there and there must be a clown.

The clown has to be good and not at all annoying. I can’t stand that pulling a long piece of paper out of your mouth trick. Setting fire to that piece of paper and magically making it become sweets: that IS cool. You should be on whatever reality show has you becoming Uri Gellar’s next apprentice. Repeated use of “hamutziim” (pickles) in place of “hamudiim” (cuties) is also the sort of behaviour that will make me visualize myself performing matrix-style fight scene manouvers in slow motion at your head. Balloon hats go down well. Even better is when every kid gets a balloon sword or butterfly or whatever. I have found the best clown ever from the excellent recommendation of a friend, and I have mentioned before that I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM. He engages the kids, remembers all their names, he is funny (even for the parents), and he is the best clown I have seen. Ever. And he’s hot but we’ve already established this is the married woman in me talking. I already know that TimTam will do our party next year. And maybe my birthday too, not sure yet.

Hand in hand with entertainment and on the strength of yesterday’s party, I think I should add a category especially for use of music:
Witch Doctor = 20 points
YMCA = 100 points
The birdie song = –90 points
…with actions = –20000 points.
I must say I was very pleased to see use of the village people at a 4 year old’s party. Great to see the Y and M in action, less so to see the C and A then sort of become a heartless flap to the right then to the left.

Category 2: Food.
The food is a good measure for how well people can host a party. Pizzas smack of taking the “throw money at it” option. Hot dogs smack of “all kids eat hot dogs, right?” lack of creative thinking. Not to mention that its well known that hot dogs are full of crap and you have to slice them into 2 or preferably 4 lengthways in order not to choke on them, yes even in 4 year olds. I have a friend who worked at the children’s hospital and this is a conversation for another time but believe me, she KNOWS. Food for the parents is also important. We are still at the age where the parents hang around and they expect food. Good food. Shakshuka and quiche score. Dry cake, big X.

Category 3: The Cake.
The final test is the cake. Baking a cake in a tin foil case and putting a shop-bought piece of sugar paper on it looks so tacky. Shop-bought cakes go back to the “throw money at it” option. No, in order to out do me, you are going to have to CONSTRUCT your cake and make it into something totally imaginative and at the same time wildly appetizing. In other words, a pirate ship and a princess castle.

Avoid avoid avoid:
Now, the worst thing of all to do at a party would be to set a powerpoint presentation of all your baby photos to some heavy arty music and make your guests endure 5 minutes of you thinking that your child is the most adorable thing in the universe. This is hard enough to sit through at the bar mitzvah. GOD FORBID but it might be ok at the funeral. Frankly I’d rather watch a powerpoint set to celine dion with pictures of puppies and bunnies, followed by taking a gun and blowing my brains out.

The party yesterday has a good rating, even though there were various violations of badass party etiquette. The balloon decorations scored extra points.

Best of all though, the party nursed my ego because hevrei (people)…I still kick party ass!

in my job, rhyming is essential

Martin, reading over my shoulder: "Welcome to the (comapny name/product name) bonanza." Bonanza?
Me: Its just a filler. Don’t you want to write me some marketing fluff to go in there?
Martin: No, I think you’ve got enough material to go on.
Me: OK, but can I still use the word bonanza?
Martin: No. (pause) It doesn’t rhyme with anything.

not to be trifled with

In the summer we were at the morasha junction and some weathered dude in a sleeveless Tshirt was offering us figs or prickly pears or some fruit and I admired his stamina out loud to my husband. These guys...and they are at every junction...walk through the traffic when the light's red offering their wares all day long. Its hot, sweaty, exhaust fume work. And you're lucky if you get one punter per red light. And its well known that in Israel their pitch is protected by the mafia. So you can't just start selling or even begging at a junction without the protexia of Israel's underworld. Otherwise they would come by and beat you up and steal your strawberries. So they probably have to sell 10 punnets to get money for 5. Anyway, on that day my husband boasted that he is exempt from the need for mafia protection and he could tout his berries at any junction he wanted. Oh yeah? I say. Hows that? I have connections he said. (Note that "connections" was said in a tone laced with mystery and intrigue.) I have connections. 15 kilometers of "I better not tell you", "You're better off not knowing", and "I can't tell you...for your own protection" later, and he finally admits that he might have gone to high school with someone who might have grown up to be in some outer ring of the mafia. This reminds me of the time after we got married and he had me going for 2 days about his shady past in the mossad.

Yesterday afternoon I got a call from the ganenet* (kindergarden teacher) to say that a kid had hit amit and he has a scratch near his eye. I said yes I know, this happened last week. She said I know it’s the same kid and he’s been punished. I said What, you mean this happened again? Yes, and I have to tell you because its near his eye but he’s perfectly fine. But last week it was also near his eye and you didn’t call. Yes well we didn’t really see what happened and he didn’t cry or anything.

Give me a break. This is Amit we are talking about. He’ll cry inconsolably for 10 minutes because you drained the (cold) water out of the bath. He’ll cry because some other kid who has come over to play has the audacity to pick up one of his sister’s toys. He’ll cry because Daddy not Mummy is showering off his midnight pee. He’ll cry because there is a lump in his hummus. And that’s all just in the last week. He’ll cry for anything. I find it highly unlikely that some kid hits him and he’d just suck it.

My husband is better at homeland security than I am. I put it down to a playground fight and move on. He starts to stalk the offender. I can’t publish here how he reacted when an unidentified neighbour dumped their bucket of cinema popcorn on my car for fear of prosecution. (Although let it be noted, nobody has dumped their popcorn on my car since!) So I wasn’t surprised when he called me this morning asking for names, dates, and places. I told him to go and unleash his fury on the ganenet because a) I don’t like her anyway and b) he will get the point across far better than me.

He called later with the following update: I told her not to let that kid get near Amit again. He’s not allowed to play with my son. Furthermore, if anything like this ever happens again I will teach Amit what my parents taught me. I will teach Amit to break a chair on that kids face.

And with my husband, you know he’s only half kidding. He's got connections.

ode to torgovnik

I love this shot taken in Rwanda by Jonathan Togovnik.

The story is that the older daughter, the one she's hugging, is from her marriage. The daughter born of love.

The second daughter, the one in the background, was born after Valentine was raped by militia.

"he put a spear in my leg, he pierced my leg and forced me to be apart and he ruthlessly raped me for four hours. I stayed in that place being raped every night for six days. Why I love the first daughter more is because I gave birth to her as a result of love. The father was my husband. The second girl is a result of unwanted circumstance"

I think the photo captures the mood so well.


Check out http://www.torgovnik.com/, he has many great shots, including a series on the reserve soldiers...check out Dr Riba who is Shaili's pigeon toes doctor.

generally speaking, where i'm involved at least...its best to avoid the subject entirely

Last week I was riding the lift (this does not sound good. Delete. It’s a fusion of American and the proper way to speak. Had I said riding the elevator I could have gotten away with it, but elevator is a butcher of the correct term, lift. And riding in proper English has connotations I certainly don’t want to get to in a public glass lift).

Last week I was in the lift and one of my colleagues alighted. Not famed for his tact, perception, or delivery, he looked at my stomach and said “What? Are you pregnant too?”. I told him—No, and it isn’t polite to ask. He said “Actually no, I think it’s a beautiful question to ask.” “Noooooooooo, you are implying I am fat.” He said “I’m not implying anything. You are taking it where you want to go”. Sensing the man was an ape and the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, I left it.

Yesterday somebody else congratulated me. A woman. I told her no, I am not up the duff. This morning she asked me if I was cross with her. Not cross, no. But I was bummed for the rest of the day yesterday. I even told my friend about it 8 hours later and I had only called her to wish her a happy birthday, not to drown my sorrows at the bottom of a beer glass. So I told this woman No, I just put on some weight thats all. Ah, she says, so you’re just fat?

there's just no way to write about arabs without coming off as a rascist snobby bitch.

Yesterday we drove up north and passed places called Baqa Al-Gharbiyye, pronounced "back-a al- jab-ee-yeah" and Umm Al- Fahm, pronounced "Um, let's fuckem".

We visited our dear arab friends who have just moved to Nazareth Elite. Yes, that's not the low down commoner's Nazareth, its the posh elite part. It's 80% Jewish up there but they think highly of themselves and rightly so. They are the best kind of people.

My friend took me off to Al-Tabune to buy some delicious rotisserie chicken on onions on bread for the rest of the people who had gathered at her house. Insider knowledge is everything. On the way she took me through the area where she grew up, which is worlds and worlds apart from the place I grew up even though we were born only 3 months apart. Her hood is an arab area and it shows. If you've ever been anywhere arab you will know what I'm talking about. Its a different level of affluence and a different mentality and different things are beautiful to their eyes. I saw large sparse shops which sell pastries (good pastries). I saw small packed shops full of chinese toys. I saw beggars and women beggars and child beggars. I saw cars packed with teenagers windows rolled down, arab pop music blaring out. Which I know about because I listen to sama-fm and it hasn't even launched yet. That's how cosmopolitan I am.

Their idea of xmas decorations just wouldn't fly back home. Plastic, plastic, and flashing plastic. And yet you feel the pulse of the place, very much alive and happening. The people in the areas we drove through are poorer than we are. Their priorities are different. But if an inflatable chinese-looking santa makes their xmas, who am I to judge?

We came to my friend's road and she told me "when I was growing up, we all lived down there: cousins, uncles, the works. I come from a very small family. Only 150."

I might even get one of those chinese santas. Ho ho ho.

december sunset over haifa and nazereth

I wish to apologise, people!

When moving the xmas tree table to find the plug for the xmas tree lights the other night, I *might* have mumbled something vague and incoherent about the xmas tree table being wedged to the wall by the sofa and the sofa being wedged to the xmas tree table by the fisher price garage and the fisher price garage being wedged to the sofa by the dining room table, henceforth when you try to plug in the lights you are faced with moving a train of furniture 5 times your body weight 4 centimeters. Just to plug in the xmas tree lights. And I just *may* have insinuated that I place the blame for all this wedging business firmly in the hands of my mother in law and *maybe maybe* I even took her name in vain. But I was facing moving a train of furniture 5 times my body weight 4 centimeters!

This was all kindly recorded for me by my angelic little daughter, who did not waste any time the following morning before telling the mother in law that mummy hates it when she touches things in the house and makes mummy a balagan* and touches mummy's things. I am not sure exactly what she said because I wasn’t there and have now heard the story 3 times and the things that were revealed to my mother in law by the holy truth according to my angelic little daughter changed each time.

But the message to my mother in law was as clear as a fog horn. And I have been reprimanded by the supreme court of in law injustice.

So, I would like to issue this PUBLIC apology on the internet which can be accessed by anyone and everyone and probably not ever my mother in law because she can’t read English and wouldn’t know what a blog was if it came up and bit her on the ass and that’s fine with me because the universe will know that I apologized publically and will ignore the fact that I can't face broaching the issue and grovelling on my hands and knees to beg her for forgiveness. Mother in law, I hereby apologize for mentioning that the way you tidy my house is anything less than perfect, and I really do appreciate you making order in the wild chaos of my home. Especially since my roommates are really fucking messy.

*balagan=mess/chaos
Note to self: watch more closely how you swear when the short people are around.

Today I...

What I wrote:

Hold down Alt and roll the mouse over the trash icon. The icon changes to the grim reaper to indicate that you are about to permanently delete the image.

What I wanted to write:

Hold down Alt and roll the mouse over the trash icon. The icon changes to the grim reaper apparently standing in a cauldron for no discernable reason other than perhaps to reinforce his evil image with some witchery to indicate that you are about to permanently delete the image. AND EVIL CACKLES COMING FROM SOMEWHERE OVER YOUR SHOULDER RESONATE AROUND THE ROOM. MWAHAHAHAHAHAH!

morning chest, tel aviv

all i want for christmas is my two front teeth. And other silly christmas songs.

Today I cracked open the advent calendars, put the flashing lights on the tree, and listened to the worst collection of xmas songs ever: "CHILDREN's XMAS PARTY". Why children should massacre Wizzard's I wish it could be xmas everyday with their bastard angelic voices is a crime I will never wrap my head around. As far as the music industry's concerned, it falls somewhere between American Idol and Mariah Carey's dress sense. Hell, its more worthy of going to court over than George Michael wincing out of his contract with Sony, but when was there ever sweet justice in this world?

Anyway, the singing kids started on butchering little donkey. Not literally of course. For those of you unfamiliar or rusty on your carols, the hymn is a dedication to the donkey that carried Mary to Bethlehem. The song idolises the little donkey, and gives it encouragement to keep plodding on the road (don't give up now little donkey!). One line even goes so far as to say little donkey little donkey had a heavy day.

Now I know that the distance between Nazareth and Bethlehem is not to be sniffed at, but EXCUSE ME?!?!?! Little donkey had a heavy day! Awww, poor little donkey. Plodding along a dusty road! With a heavy load! Probably like every day of his damned miserable life in -1BC. Or are you implying that Mary rather packed on the pounds during pregnancy? Did the songwriter ever stop for a moment to think about Mary? 9 months pregnant, has to travel to a far off town for a stupid census?! On a donkey! Have you ever stopped to think how hard that must've been? There was no cvish 6* back then, baby! That woman deserves a medal! Where's her song?

Then I got me to thinking...how many carols are actually about Mary? Where's Mary's giving birth in a barn with no epidural hymn? Why does good king Wencelas get a song for looking out of the bloody window and Mary gets nothing for pushing the son of God down her birth canal?! Even mummy, the slut with an old fat man fetish got a carol when she was seen kissing santa claus underneath the mistletoe. Not to mention frosty the snowman, rudolph the red nose reindeer, or the three kings of orient are, what ever that means. They all got their 15 minutes.

But not Mary. The best she got was being called "mild" (Once in Royal David's City). Mild! It's just not right by Mary. Now, I have no musical talent to speak of, but I'm sure someone can rustle something up for poor old Mary. Something to the tune of Ding Dong Merrily on High perhaps:
Puu-U-u-u-u-u-U-u-u-u-u-u-U-u-u-u-u-u-U-u-u-u-u-u-U-u-u-u-u-u-U-uu-sh! The baby's head is crown-ing!


*cvish 6: Israel's super-fast toll road. You get on there and its like a time tunnel. Vooooom! 20 minutes and you're in Afula.

they take your friends away, its THE EXPERIMENT.

A few of my loyal readers who prefer to TALK about the blog rather than to leave comments (leave comments! leave comments!) told me it is high time I stop alluding to THE EXPERIMENT and damn well explain it. These people are actually IN the experiment, and I still have to explain it to them when they complain about the dining room mixing lettuce leaves and baby leaves. Baby leaves are a disgusting bunch of stalks with a limited amount of leafery that are placed into a salad to "jazz it up". Well, people, I say no! And, Yeuch!. No. More. Jazzing. The person who invented the trend of mixing baby leaves in with salad should be taken out and shot right now. But they let me smile wistfully at my work buddies and say "All part of THE EXPERIMENT".

Anyone working in a huge corporation will know THE EXPERIMENT. Most people ignore it because the corporation pays them and gives them nice benefits such as bringing in a cake sale every Thursday afternoon. And the people, they need job security. And cakes. Its just easier to ignore what's going on behind the scenes. In return for your blood and sweat, the corporation purports to run as a huge multi-national business. But it's all fake I tell you! The bosses are actors. Their bosses are men with white coats. And they play out THE EXPERIMENT on the people they employ. People like you. And me of course. It's very The Matrix.

And that is why anything that happens to you in there, anything straight out of Dilbert, anything Kafkaesque, anything that will challenge your comfort zone...that's the men in the white coats testing you. They're looking for how you react. They're looking for who can take it, and who can't.

You work in a cube. THE EXPERIMENT.
You share that cube. THE EXPERIMENT.
Camera pans out...you're working in a huge cube farm. THE EXPERIMENT.
Floor upon floor of cube farms. THE EXPERIMENT.
Baby leaves in your salad. THE EXPERIMENT.
Boss calls you in for spending 4 times the average of your peers on the phone, average being 5 shekels. THE EXPERIMENT.
You can't use your employee card to get food out of the vending machines today? THE EXPERIMENT.
Word wrecks your DTP? THE EXPERIMENT.
Cilantro in an innocent-looking salad? THE EXPERIMENT AGAIN.
Boss tells you to work through the weekend? IT'S ALL PART OF THE EXPERIMENT!

Me, I am one of the masses of employees who needs the job security to look after my family. And I have to admit, the cakes are nice. But every day, every day without fail, I find little facets of the experiment. Things that I cannot ignore. Things that tell me its all a big sham. Things like if you press the button of the 'smart' lift 17 times, you can get it to change which lift it'll send you. Why 17 times? THE EXPERIMENT.

Today THE EXPERIMENT took one of the main things that kept me going: the cute guy on the fourth floor.

Damn, I'm going to miss him. But I won't let the experiment get the better of me.

I'm not sure what the prize is, but it probably involves ice cream and a gold watch.

inbox, last week

as far as I know, he's still hiding there.

Just. Say. No. originated from Nancy Regan!

And I thought it was Grange Hill. You learn something new everyday.



credit

i'm eating. i've got a cake/flower pot on my head. i'm cool.

life is great!

This morning Michael was in the shower and I came in to ask if I looked ok. He said isn’t life good? My business dreams are on the road and what’s more we have a professional blogger in the house. I didn’t even know he could conjugate the verb “to blog”.

Do you think he’s having an affair?

november afternoon, tel aviv

so, I was hanging out with my sister...

I was driving through Tel Aviv on my way to The World’s Most Expensive ParkingTM and I saw the Tel Aviv Opera building on Shaul HaMelech. Its such a beautiful building and I haven't driven past or even visited it for such a long time. I remembered when I first came to Israel and how foreign it looked. I remember the first time I saw it which was at night and it must have been before I moved here because we dropped by to see Esti who worked at the Apropo there at that time.

Turn left and you pass Asia House. We had a friend's husband who worked there as a prestigious lawyer. Once I went to meet him there because he was paying me to be a companion to my friend who was recovering a head injury she suffered in a car accident. As he walked me to the cashpoint and we were discussing his wife's condition, my eye was caught by a baby lizard that had somehow fallen into my friend's husband's path. I watched as the lizard ran and squiggled along just slightly ahead of our trajectory. I can't remember what my friend's husband said because I was transfixed watching the lizard running and squiggling until all of a sudden came the inevitable *SQUISH!*

...

As my friend's husband withdrew my salary, I looked back at that sorryass baby lizard footkill whose killer wasn't even aware of his actions.

a little green spot on a ball

Its been long known to me that my husband is notoriously bad at geography and I will often throw him random trivia questions such as "What continent is Cameroon in?" and "What color are the people who live in the Ivory Coast?" just to get him confused. But I didn't realise that the phenomena was spreading.

Yesterday, over at friends, Shaili gave the mother their inflatable globe and asked her to find Israel for her. As the seconds yawned into a minute, for a moment there I really thought she might not find it. Israel... Israel... Eventually she found it, a small green speck at the eastern edge of the Mediterranean sea where we left it. I don't know what was scarier, that, or the fact that when Shaili asked her to find it, she said "Can you find the land of...", physically went away and thought about it for a minute, came back and triumphantly said "Israel!". Ach! but its easy to forget where you live when you're 4.

Afterwards, Shaili explained to me that we live between the sea and the makolet*. She gets that from me.




*makolet=corner shop

flying elephants

I love this image taken by Gregory Colbert.
Everyone talks about swimming with dolphins, but I think swimming with elephants would be way cooler.
Link: http://www.ashesandsnow.org/

Top Ten you know you're the parent of small children when...

1. You are driving alone and yet fight the urge to shout "TRACTOR!" when you pass one.
2. Ditto for trains and planes.
3. The pitter patter of tiny feet is typically accompanied by the noise of something being dragged
4. You know for a fact that wax crayon cannot be washed off walls and re-painting is your only option.
5. You fear the moments when they are in the other room and QUIET.
6. You play give us a clue and your submissions include Mickey Mouse and Dora the Explorer
7. Dora the Explorer music is your ring tone (and you love it)

8. You are woken up by a small finger in your nose.

9. You are late to work because you want to know whether the wonder pets will be ok
10. Your handbag is filled with McKids meal toys, hair ties and half eaten/half spilled packets of crisps.

Costa Rican goats go backwards

20 November
Today I:

• Soundtrack to get to work: KT Tunstall so loud that when I get into the car after work, I scare the bejesus out of the parking lot.
• No. of minutes after 7am I waited to have coffee SO I WOULDN’T LOOK DESPERATE=32
• Operation submitted as a batch job. Check email for results.
• Checked email for results.
• They take kosher seriously here. We have two separate dining rooms, one for meat and one for milk. In the past, we received email WITH PHOTOGRAPHS demonstrating how to use the red meaty squared trays on the square tables and the rounded orange dairy trays on the round tables. This is a subtle yet cunning way of making sure that a person eating a dairy lunch does not sit at the same table as somebody eating a meaty lunch. If you’re eating a chicken breast, not only can you not sit on the same table as someone sinking their teeth into a cheese sandwich, but your table can’t even be next to them. Because if that happens, the child cow steak would be insulted at being present in the same airspace as its mother’s milk in the béchamel sauce of a vegetable lasagna. And the lunching Jews in question would surely burn in hell at a temperature so high that no Hollywood special effects team could ever possibly capture it. Both dining rooms have outside areas which are close to but cordoned off from one another. Because a seat belt strip can totally save the situation.
  And then, today.Today when I look, today everything is jumbled up! And you know, I wouldn't give two hoots if you came at me waving a sirloin near my ice cream, but I guess I am anal retentive enough to let the disharmony of the situation get to me!
  Just look!
  
  And just to be clear, I’d rather not risk burning in hell at 3000°C.
• Operation submitted as a batch job. Check email for results.
• Checked email for results.
• Feel like listening to George Michael. You gotta have faith a faith a faith.
• Played to death: Wham! Last Christmas.
• No. of times put off going to the toilet until bladder was fit to burst: 3
• No. of times huband used gay voice to parody interviewees for his secretry position, army commanders and others: too many to count!
  

somewhere, between the grey padded walls of the fifth floor...

-Martin, I have something to confess.

-What is it?

-This morning before you got here, I had bad coffee breath so I went into your drawer and took one of your professional mints.

-That’s ok, they’re there for the taking. No need to confess.

-Are you sure? I mean, you are missing an opportunity for cube domination here.

-What do you mean?

-I mean, you could say “That’s really not OK” and use the opportunity to exert power over me.

-Why would I do that?

-For your own personal enjoyment.

-I wouldn’t enjoy that.

Explaining polygamy to people who don't watch big love

“88.2% of statistics are made up on the spot” -Vic Reeves

This morning, I had a bowl of Fruit ‘n Fibre. I stole the box from my husband. But he shouldn't notice until at least Saturday, so it's fair game.

Once, a long time ago, before he broke Tiff’nay’s heart, Grant Mitchell of Eastenders did an advert for Fruit ‘n Fibre.

credit

I can’t eat fruit and fibre without thinking of Grant. Or, for that matter, of Tiff’nay lying in the street outside the pub on New Years Eve.

Anyway, in the course of finding photographic evidence of Grant eating Fruit ‘n Fibre, I found this wonderful site: http://www.tvwhirl.co.uk/advertsdg.html
And it got me thinking, what are the top 10 adverts of my youth?

10 Great ads that I had forgotten!
1. Pepperami: It’s a bit of an animal (Pepperami)
2. P.P.P.Pick up a Penguin. (Penguin)
3. If you like a lot of chocolate on your biscuit join our club! (Club)
4. Big Bad Dom (Domestos)
5. ACCRINGTON STANLEY? WHO ARE THEY? (Milk)
6. How do you do it? (Cadbury’s Crème Egg)
7. Oh no... an iceberg! What will we do? (Extra Strong Mints)
8. Fly Fishing by J.R. Hartley (Yellow Pages)
9. Woaaaahhh-ohhh! Vitalite... That's right!! (Vitalite)
10. Things are not quite what they seem (Diamond White)

10 Great ads I hadn’t forgotten:
1. Robin Hood Robin Hood spies the Weetabix (Weetabix)
2. You know when you’ve been tango’d (Tango)
3. Pardon me but I thought I heard you mutter… (Anchor butter)
4. But smart ol’ Blue he took the Milky Way (Milky Way)
5. (striking a match on a bald guy’s head) (Hamlet)
6. Boddingtons: cream of Manchester (Boddingtons)
7. Do you love someone enough to give them your last Rolo? (Rolo)
8. So he got an account called Liquid Gold. (A building society)
9. Two all-meat patties special sauce lettuce cheese pickles onions in a sesame bun (Big Mac)
10. Only the crumbliest, flakiest chocolate (Flake)

Gold!

17 November
Today I:
• No. of passwords entered in the course of my day: 6
• Wrote Pint Test in cell E2 of an excel chart
• You can exit a cube corridor and fall in stride with someone you don’t know when suddenly a tennis ball pops out of his back pocket.

No no no, that's the elephant again

Today I:

• Was told I should be taking drugs. Or asked why I was not taking drugs. It was a bit ambiguous.
  
• Said "pass"with a northern British accent without anyone noticing.
  
• Laughed and laughed about how Pats will identify THE ONE.
  
• Identified multiple new facets of THE EXPERIMENT:
  1. Tell me to report missing time, tell me my password has expired, do not register the new passwords BIGTITS1 or 23FATBOYSREADYTOPARTY.
  2. Deny me access to the QA and support lab.
  3. Close the gates to the parking and have me wait for them to open e-v-e-r-s-o-s-l-o-w-l-y to enter or exit the parking lot.
• Loved you: because you figured out how to use the branch you had to retrieve the stick your friend threw into the fountain, and you didn't get wet.
• Loved you II: because I caught you in my wing mirror hanging out of the back window smelling the wind with happy abandon like a dog
  
• Delicious: special edition pink! M&M peanuts (may have been out of date)(didn't matter)
  

FW: New less than 2" length EVDO USB modem with GPS & microSD

YES!

I ♥ TimTam

-We have to leave the beach at 2.30 because we are going to a birthday party. TimTam's gonna be there.

-Ooooh, I LOVE TimTam.

-So do I. He's so good and also he is hot.

-Ooooh, yes yes he is he totally is hot.

...


-Look at where we've got to when the only men we meet and think are hot are children's birthday clowns.

I'll have !anything but! the fish cakes, please

Israel is good for many things. Israelis are good at many jobs. But waitering: Nop.

-Can I tell you what the specials are today?
-Yes please.
-There's Fishcakes, there's--
-What do you mean "Fishcakes"?
-Fish that are like, er, well, cakes.
-What kind of fish? How are they served?
-ER...(looks at notepad)...I'll have to check...

petty theiving starts early

These objects entered our house and were not bought, given, found in a McDonalds meal, sent by post, left by another child, brought by safta, created on the premises, or any other means other than blatant thievery:



car
port of origin: yael's gan*
entry into the house: May 2008

cat
port of origin: merav's gan
entry into the house: September 2008

bunny
port of origin: shir's house
entry into the house: October 2008

absent from picture: spiderman
reason for absence: knowledge mummy wants to return to origin prompted concealing of hot goods

* gan = kindergarten

sublime pleasure is...

• bunking off
• having a leisurely morning coffee and a cheese stick with a friend
• finding a packet of salt and vinegar crisps in your bedroom
• having 2 rows of cadbury's dairy milk for desert
• having someone photoshop you into an engineering memory
• having 3 rows of cadbury's dairy milk for goodnight munchies
  

goodbye tzabar

Tzabar voted off the Ach HaGadol last night in what was a shocking poll.

The coalition will now fall apart and Yossi Boublis will win the money.

Its a fucking disaster!

why i love google

where else will you be offered a recipe for a spam breakfast burrito?

Shalom, Haver

10 November
Today I:

• Noticed that it’s Rabin’s Memorial Day. Rabin was a dude that was assassinated at a peace rally in 1995. He was Prime Minister of Israel at the time. Rewind to 1995, and it’s a year after Oslo and all is going well for the man. Well, as well as it can for a politician in Israel where at any given time most of the country is complaining about you. He came off stage and was shot 3 times by Yigal Amir, a religious fanatic who wasn’t even an arab. He was severely punished by being sent to prison and getting married to a starstuck dossit* and having children through conjugal visits. Itzak Rabin is remembered every year by a concert for Peace and by memorial candles all over the place. Its so very cool to remember Itzak as a symbol for the peace process, so much so that a national memorial day was set up in his honour. He is an idol for secular Israelis who want to be in. Half the people worship him. Half the people hated him and support Amir. And half don’t give a shit, but we don’t count them anyway as they are arabs.
  
  A couple of weeks ago when we were in the desert, we were forced by proximity and volume to be silent witnesses to a conversation between a few 20 year old Americans and Australians. It went something like this:
  American #1: You know that Steve Irwin? Is he like Australian or from New Zealand or South Africa or something?
  Australian #1: (measured) Australian.
  American #1: Are you like really sad that he died?
  Australian #1: He’s like dead, and I get that. I think it’s a shame. But I don’t think he was more special than other dead people so I don’t think he should be elevated into some kind of huge symbol and worshipped and stuff.
  
  She then went on to say many derogatory things about Steve Irwin’s wife, which I don’t think was called for, and I don't agree with her at all. Steve Irwin was a legend and is up there with Kurt Cobain and Freddy Mercury and he should totally have whitewashed roadside shrines surrounded in bright flowers and statues. But in the context of Rabin, I do like totally get what she was saying.

* dossit: slang for a religious woman

Baked potato faux pas

Today I:

• made the fatal error of wrapping my potatoes in tin foil. The skill of being able to bake a perfect potato is learnt at university but is obviously not akin to riding a bicycle.
  

Like a rolling stone

credit

Dog castration. Yes or no?

...Twinsetandpearls said no, but had been through a 'sticky patch' with her springer spaniel: "He loved dd's toy horse which was about his size and if pressure was applied in the correct place it would neigh, which I think the dog took as a compliment."

credit

You wouldn't steal a car

I've always found this a bit presumptious.

And that is why I added 7 new dvds to my collection.
Lets face it, I was cut out of my mother's will already.

credit

elvis was a cajun

4 November

Today I:

• If only Israel would take Purim costumes as seriously: http://mightygoods.com/features/halloween-costume-guide
• Snapshot Pilates: Albert’s face shmushed onto his OVERBALL having a rest from swimming.
• Identified facet of THE EXPERIMENT: do not peel the onions before adding them to the lasagna.
• Good to be mummy: "Mummy, I'm frightened of marshmallows" (boy hasn't even SEEN ghostbusters! But I've evidentally I've watched enough times in my life to build up such a repository that Stay Puft's image passed down the umbilical cord 4 years ago and imprinted firmly on his mind)
• Bad to be mummy: the amount of sand that can come out of a shoe at the end of the day!!
  

Status of my front lawn: busy

Sabich by Aroma

4 November

Today I:

• Searched for the terms five levels and wall socket in my PDF
• Found Shifra’s blog. I could so hang out with Shifra.
• Remembered remembered the fifth of November for gunpowder, treason, and plot
• Hey! That rhyme could be used by rastas by removing the last “l”
• Found out that Lou Reed, who is staying at the Dan, is a user of my company’s product. If Lou Reed purchased anything in the last 2 years, Lou Reed has been reading my stuff. LOU REED IS FAMILIAR WITH MY WORK!!! I will probably inspire a song.
• Must think Fashion First. Although, in MY corporate battlefield, there are slim pickins.
• Overheard Hapless Argentinian who has the worst English ever laugh at somebody argentinian’s English. Rich.
• If you’re going to have breakfast with Lou Reed in the morning, you better know more than “Walk on the Wild Side”. EVEN I know about sweet jane and the velvet underground.
• If you google Tzabar Gadish, you get a lot of gay sites. It’s going to be Wentworth Miller all over again.
• It better not be Wentworth Miller all over again.

While a little person lies sick and groaning, barbie mermaidia and sleeping beauty take the opportunity to let loose a little

C is for...

...Fox!

Israel 60, Me 10

Top Ten things you get used to. Surprisingly quickly:

10. Having your car/bag checked at every canyon, coffee shop, shop you enter

9. The fact that you live in a warzone.

8. Wearing long trousers all year round.

7. Palm trees on central reservations

6. Living near the beach.

5. Abundance of coffee shops.

4. The crazy driving

3. Casual dress at work

2. Thinking in shekels

1. Tea without milk

Top Ten things you never quite get used to:

10. Men who think underwear is appropriate beach attire.

9. Jeans at weddings.

8. Tipping as a matter of course

7. Gazith’s clown shoes that never go out of fashion. Like, EVER.

6. Camel toes.

5. Your mother in law cleaning your house and putting your things where she thinks you should have them. No, really.

4. Sufganiot*. They are just…not right. Roll with the donuts, people!

3. A good night out starting at 1am that you’ve prepared for by going to sleep first.

2. People who stop their car in flowing traffic and just wait there (to get out money, buy a box of cigarettes, get a falaffal) REGARDLESS THAT THEY ARE BLOCKING A LANE AND PISSING EVERYONE THE HELL OFF.

1. The use of the term “Immaleh!”*

Top ten foods:

10. Sabich*

9. Shnitzel* (Café Noir)

8. Falafal*

7. Beigels

6. Hallah*

5. Laffa*

4. Crembo*

3. Schwarma*

2. Latkes*

1. Shakshuka*

Top ten things that got here after me:

10. The tallest tower in Ramat Gan. I used to watch it go up a floor at a time on the bus on the way to Ulpan. The summit of the tower was when Yoav took Sharon there on his date. Zzzz zzzz zzzz we know, we’ve heard this one so many times.

9. The coffee bean. G-d knows what we did before!

8. The glilot bridge.

7. Most of Herzilya Pituach

6. Cinema City

5. Kvish 6

4. That ghastly bridge at the mouth of Jerusalem

3. Arena Mall

2. Sea and Sun

1. Most of Tel Aviv’s high-rises

Top ten things that left before me:

10. Dunkin Donuts

9. Starbucks

8. Availability of Pilsbury cookie dough.

7. Gush Katif

6. Arafat

5. Next

4. Marks and Spencers

3. HaMashbir

2. Bar Raphaely

1. Couldn't you tell I was struggling at "hamashbir"??

Top ten TV shows watched while here:

10. Melrose Place

9. Khi Oti Sharon

8. LeHayay LeAhava

7. HaAlufa

6. Telenovella Bam

5. Prison Break

4. Super Nenny

3. Fear Factor

2. Air Crash Investigation and Seconds from Disaster

1. America’s Next Top Model

Top ten best words and phrases:

10. Malafufon*

9. Be Tachat Sheli*

8. Leave me in your mother (in your mother! for short)

7. On the face

6. Coss Imma Ars*

5. Yesh Li Jaanana BeRosh*

4. Yalla*. And Yalla BeKef*.

3. Yo aradi*

2. Sababa*

1. Afuch Gadol Ble Ketsef*

Top ten Israeliisms:

10. I’ve got to watch the news. On every channel. Until they stop talking about it.

9. I do not want to be a fryer*. Therefore I make you the fryer.

8. You’re doing that wrong (regarding anything you’re doing to your child)

7. Everyone in France hates us.

6. Everyone in Britain hates us.

5. You have the shitest food in England. Have you tried Yorkshire pudding? Have you, have you?

4. I arrive last in the queue but I am the first to alight

3. I was here earlier…I left to do my supermarket shopping but now it is definitely my turn

2. I wear my underpants and play matkot on the beach

1. Shaved heads

Top ten people who left me here, you bastards:

10. + 9. Vanessa and Adam

8. + 7. Sam and Moti

6. + 5. Keren and Eran

4. + 3. Sigalit and Hans

2. + 1. Lorna and Ilan

0. + -1.Maya and Sagi

Top ten life-changing events:

10. Wedding #1.

9. Swiss fatal car accident robbing us of Esti.

8. Conversion to Judaism

7. Getting Mojo.

6. Becoming an Israeli Citizen

5. Wedding #2.

4. Pregnancy.

3. TWINS!

2. Getting rid of Mojo.

1. America’s Next Top Model

Top ten lessons learned:

10. To not eat gefilte fish* or kubeh*

9. To have a cleaner do everything house-related

8. To send your laundry out

7. To use a horn when driving

6. To not stand in line

5. To be assertive

4. To not apologise

3. To complain about service

2. Everything is negotiable

1. Sometimes its fun to scream and use foul language at total strangers

Top ten things I still miss:

10. Salt and vinegar crisps

9. Cadburys

8. The smell of a muddy walk

7. Shopping

6. Majestic oak trees

5. Going for a drink after work

4. Calling each other “mate”

3. Bookshops

2. Reasonably priced magazines

1. Presence of a sophisticated sense of humour

Top ten Eateries:

10. Kyoto

9. Sebastian

8. Ad Haetzem

7. Edna

6. The Sabich man of Givatayim

5. The Brasserie

4. Comme Il Faut

3. Benedict

2. Dr Shakshuka

1. Tal Bagels

Top ten Israeli songs:

10. Gagoiim le hibokim hamim

9. Ten Et Hacavod Le-Tzahal

8. Al tishkach lismoach gam be-helki

7. Yesh li hom gavoa paamiim beshavua yesh li love boy!

6. Tikfotz betoch ha-mayim, tiftach et ha-enayim, ad she ze ichav leacha *kzat*

5. Don Kishot

4. Al tedebri al arik

3. Yachad lev al lev

2. Hallelujah, LeOlam

1. Idan Rykiel stuff

Top ten (famous) Israelis:

10. Yehuda Levi hot

9. Ofer Shechter

8. Yael Bar Zohar for distracting my husband long enough to leave me locked in the car with two sleeping kids and no air-conditioning

7. Ariel Sharon only because he inspired Hay-Hay!

6. Asi Cohen hot

5. Nero Levy

4. Aviv Gefen for following me around Tel aviv shoeless

3. Yehuda Poliker

2. Sharon for moving into my neighbourhood and then giving me “yes yes, it’s ME, SHARON, take ME” looks when I see her at 7am in the makolet and think “damn, you look familiar”

1. Tzabar Gadish

Top ten people who stayed in touch IN NO ORDER!!:

7. Nicola

6. Clare

5. Clare

4. Clara

3. Kathryn

2. Jo

1. Heidrun

Top ten places I love:

10. Hamat Geder

9. Rosh Pina

8. Tsfat

7. Khan Beerotayim

6. Nemal Tel Aviv

5. My apartment

4. Hof HaTzuk (Marcaz)/Mandarin/Hooker Beach

3. Arsuf

2. Edna’s, Jerusalem

1. Tel Aviv

* sufganiot = dough with a jam hole

* Immaleh! = exclamation meaning "My dear mother!"

* sabich = deep fried slices of aubergine

* shnitzel = chicken breast, beaten to within a mm of its life, egged, breaded, and fried

* falafal = fried

* hallah = special bread for shabbat (saturday)

* laffa = a brick of a sandwich, unfinishable, incorporating a huge round pita rolled around schwarma, chopped salads, chips, hummus, tehina and anything else the street vendor can get his hands on

* crembo = think yorkshire tea cakes

* schwarma = think donner kebab

* latkes = think hash brown

* shakshuka = eggs poached in a tomato sauce

* malafufon = cucumber

* be tachat sheli = in my butt

* Coss Imma Ars = something about your mother's pussy

* Yesh li jaanana berosh = I have a cockroach running around my brain (or brain cavity)

* yalla = come on! (arabic)

* yalla bekef = come on! in a nice way

* Yo aradi = exclamation for oh. my. god.

* sababa = cool

* afuch gadol bli ketsef = large milky coffee without foam

* fryer = a person who everyone else takes advantage of

* gefilte fish = cold ball made of fishy bits, usually served with a cold slice of boiled carrot on top

* kubeh = not sure. another ball, usually hot in an identified red sauce