My encounter with the law

So today I had to admit in public on the internet that I never got a speeding ticket, but I did get ticketed for jaywalking. I'm very embarrassed about it, but maybe it's time I told my story and got rid of that stupid feeling.

This was back in 1988 as I was walking downtown in my hometown in Israel, in my Navy uniform on the way to the base. I was walking down a short dead end road that was a continuation of a major intersection downtown, but was pretty much empty from traffic during the day (there'll be another story posted about this road at night).

This road led to the entrance to the Naval Port. But in order to get to the entrance I had to cross the road. I stopped at the curb and looked to the left, where the traffic controlled crosswalk was located less than 60 meters to my left. I figured, in my infinite wisdom, that looking to my left was sufficient, since there was no risk of any traffic coming by to kill me from the right of a dead-end road with no cars. Of course, there was still a risk that a U.S. Navy Ship Destroyer may run aground at the dock to my right, and possibly "float" mysteriously a mile across the dock to reach this road; and there was also the possible risk that one of our two Israeli submarines at the time (it's been more than seven years now, so I can talk about it), may have come up from underneath me by some unforeseen chain of events - but I was willing to take the risk and only check the left side before crossing the road.

As I stood there watching all the people ready to cross the street, I waited "with them" for the green light to come on. By my common sense and logic, once they start crossing the road, I'm safe and can cross the road at the same time, feeling quite smug about the fact that no car could run me over without running over all those people first, and by then I'd be across the street anyway.

As I reached the other side, I realised a catastrophic mistake, one that I will never forgive myself. While I did consider the consequences and risks involved in not looking to the right, I neglected to evaluate and calculate the chances of being intercepted by a cop straight ahead across the street!

When I was done crossing the street, the cop called me over and said, “Soldier! Do you realize you are risking government property by crossing less than 60 meters from the crosswalk?!” At which point I searched the deepest cells of my memory trying to recall if I had an invisible gun (government property?) on me, or possibly the national flag (definitely government property). When I failed to come up with any results, I began searching the other gray cells - was I singing the national anthem while crossing the street? Was I not in tune? Did the cop hear me sing? But I don't sing in public (only when driving alone in my car), so it was quite evident that I should look for a hidden camera. This quick search resulted in nothing of importance.

When the cop noticed my puzzled look she said, “When you wear this military uniform you are government property!”

She slapped a 60 shekel fine on me, when my monthly salary was 85 shekels! The nerve!!!

I was quite shocked because I had never in my life spoken to a police officer, and this wasn’t something I had in mind for a first encounter. I got back to my base and went to my commander to explain why I was late. After everyone finished laughing at me and causing me irreversible mental trauma, the unit's chief of staff took me aside and explained some facts about life – “You take them to court! It will take them two years to get to your ticket, by which time you’ll be out of service and earning 20 times as much as now, and 60 shekels will not be a big deal to pay then.” That was in the worst case scenario. The best case scenario would be that the cop would forget to show up to court, and by default the ticket would be dismissed.

Well, common sense hit me hard at this point, and I realised I had a very smart chief of staff. I took them to court. Sure enough by the time it got to court (to which I didn’t show up and “lost the case” as a result) – I had a job that paid far more, and the 60 shekels fine was no longer my entire monthly salary.

Now…did I learn from this exercise not to jaywalk ever again? You betcha! First, I’m in the U.S. and I don’t have 60 shekels to save my @ss. Second, I drive everywhere.

But what struck me as funny today is someone's comment to me saying – “slow ticket writing day for that cop, huh?” Well, this never crossed my mind. I always thought I was evil, evil, evil for crossing the road at a dead-end and 59 meters from the nearby crosswalk and for risking government property. I will never live down this shame. But now I do hope this cop gets a speeding ticket the day she retires.

Real life

Due to real life I've been forced to take vacation from this blog for the rest of this week. Service will resume, one day.

Yes, it's a resting day

For those of you who failed the quiz yesterday or never took it because they gave up before even attempting: Yesterday was Yom shishi.

God worked hard for six days creating the world, then he quit work and rested.

Words in Hebrew are comprised of 3 root letters. A prefix, suffix and vowel placement change the root letters to accept a new meaning.

For those of you who've been living under a rock all your lives - the seventh day of the week is called in Hebrew - SHABBAT.

Pronounciation key: shah-BUTT - so yeah, all the times you've heard American Jews pronounce it - it's wrong. It's not SHA-bess, nor SHAbbet. That may be true in Yiddish, but the Hebrew is pronounced with the emphasis on the end of the word: shah-BUTT.

Shabbat is spelt with the three root letters in Hebrew - shin, bet, tav: שבת

These are root letters that mean - quit, ceased, went on strike. Which is what God did on the seventh day. He ceased his work of creation and rested. So unlike all other days of the week, the seventh day is not the Hebrew word for seven (which by some strange coincidence is ...Sheva).

Shvita means - strike. As in the bus drivers went on strike because of high gas prices. Shavat means - he went on strike. Spelt exactly the same way as Shabbat (the letter B and V in Hebrew looks the same and is indeed the same letter).

Shabbat is the most important of the Jewish days and holidays. It's holier than any of our holidays. Next in line is Yom Kippur (anyone recognize now the first word?).

And just to correct another huge misconception in American society - Channukah is NOT an important holiday in Judaism. It's in fact the LEAST important of our holidays, way behind Yom Kippur, Rosh Hashanna, Passover, Shavuot, Sukkot, etc. The problem is that typically Channukah falls during the same month as Christmas which makes the Christians believe it's important for the Jews because retailers seem to put everything related to Channukah in their storefront windows as if it were important.

And no, it is NOT Jewish tradition to give presents every day of the eight days of Channukah. This is purely American and a result of Jewish parents not wanting their kids to feel left out when all their Christian friends get many presents for Christmas. [And one day I will launch into my rant about Christmas, but now is not the time.]

So there, two myths broken in one post.

Yesterday was the day from hell for me at work, and after putting in twelve hours straight with no lunch break I really needed Shabbat for resting. So I spent the day sleeping. Hopefully, you will all excuse me for the lack of interesting posts this week.

I will try and resume normal posting next week, but no promises. Real life keeps interrupting. WL is gone on vacation and I'm trying to figure out what practical joke to play on him before his return. I will entertain any ideas from the audience.

This week's quiz

1. Complete the sentence: Toda la'el hayom ......... ............

2. A man standing sixth in line would say: Ani ............

3. A woman standing sixth in line would say: Ani ............

Bonus points:

4. Write down the Hebrew for the first five days of the week.

5. The seventh day of the week is called in Hebrew: ......................

Brown nosers (be careful, it's a trick question!):

6. The translation to the Hebrew word for the seventh day means: ..........................

Good luck!

Busy day

Thursday is always busy day. Day before Friday (when nothing gets done). So my apologies for this delayed Hebrew lesson. The fifth Hebrew lesson. How do I know this? Because Thursday is the fifth day of the week.

Yom Khamishi.

Alright, pronounciation of "kh" for Americans is a bit tricky. Imagine a piece of paper stuck at the rooftop of your mouth all the way in the back. Now try to cough it out by pushing air from your throat through the rooftop of your mouth. You should feel some minor pain and vibration at the rooftop of your mouth in the back when you pronounce "kh." This of course means, that when Israelis catch a cold and feel a sore throat they typically find it VERY painful to speak. That's why I love English when I have a cold. It's easier on my throat.

Khamesh means five in Hebrew.

Khamsa is a cultural symbol of good luck, showing an upside down hand. Khamsa of course is five in Arabic. So you just learned two languages in this lesson.

Khamsin is the name of the winds that hit Israel between April and May from the south. These are dry hot sand storms from Egypt. It's called Khamsin (Arabic for 50) because it lasts fifty days in a year.

Khumash is the Hebrew name of the Five Books of Moses.

The man standing fifth in line would say - ani khamishi.
The woman standing fifth in line would say - ani khamishit.

Pronounciation key:
khamiSHI
khamiSHIT
khuMASH
khaMESH
KHAMsa
khamSIN

Is anyone excited about tomorrow's lesson?

I hate Wednesdays

Wednesdays are the least favourite day of the week for me.

Wednesdays are when teachers in Israel give you the most homework, because they can't give you any homework on Tuesdays and Fridays (Tuesday is when we have Scouts, and Friday is before the Sabbath and we're not allowed to work on a Sabbath, let alone sit and do homework!).

I also don't like days that are difficult to type.

Back to our Hebrew lessons. Fourth day of the week - Yom revi'ee.

Man standing fourth in line - ani revi'ee.
Woman standing fourth in line - ani revi'it.

Pronounciation: revi-EE and revi-IT.

The number four in Hebrew - arbah. Pronounciated (exception follows): AR-bah.
One of the ten plagues, locusts - arbeh. Pronounciated: ar-BEH.

Spelt differently.

Seven Things

I've been tagged for the first time! And I'm grateful to Zombieslayer for providing me with writing material.

So I've decided to take on the Seven Things tag challenge. Here goes:

Seven things you plan to do before you die:
1) Have kids (or adopt)
2) Clean the house
3) Visit Australia
4) Move back to Israel
5) Write a book
6) Get another degree (‘cause I love learning!)
7) Teach

Seven things you can do:
1) Write (a lot)
2) Public talking
3) Read the bible in the language it was written (eat your hearts out Christian fundamentalists!)
4) Mess my house in an hour
5) Fall asleep in any situation
6) Dream
7) Fall in love

Seven things you can't do:
1) Clean the house
2) Tell jokes
3) Express or show sympathy or empathy to a person standing in front of me
4) Drink, smoke or curse
5) Watch TV [damn husband has the remote!]
6) Remember shit
7) Let go [sorry]

Seven things that attract you to the opposite sex:
1) Honesty
2) Intelligence and smarts
3) Smell
4) The smile & look on the face
5) Voice
6) Humour
7) Good listener

Seven things you say most:
1) Good Morning (no matter what time of the day)
2) Hey you (‘cause my husband doesn’t have a name nor a nickname)
3) Dammit… (‘cause I’m a complainer)
4) No thanks (whenever offered to grab anything to eat)
5) I need a Fanta! (the equivalent of a normal person’s “I need a beer”)
6) I don't remember (poor memory syndrome)
7) Tomorrow (I’m a procrastinator)

Seven celebrity crushes:
1) Tom Selleck (and then I got married to a look-alike)
2) George Clooney
3) Tom Cruise (yeah, bite me everyone. I know I’m not popular now)
4) Bono
5) Ed Norton
6) Hugh Grant
7) John Spencer (from L.A. Law.)

And I'm supposed to tag someone in return. Seven people in fact. And I don't even have that many people reading this blog. So here goes: Hard Working Slacker, Tenxin Choden, Southerngirl (we can wait 'til you're up and running with a new blog), Thomcat (when are you back from vacation?), Rockjock, The Flaming Liberal, CultureShock (I'll do anything to get you out of retirement!)

The rules are very simple - answer the bolded questions in a post on your blog. No time limit as far as I know.

Twice as Good

Tuesday is a special day. This is when God said "and it was twice as good." God said this about two days in the entire week - Tuesdays and Fridays.

So back in Israel, Tuesday is half a day for the banks and retailers, just like Friday. They work 'til noon, and shut down. This of course is a fun day for those who work in banks or retail, but no fun at all for those who run errands on Tuesdays and basically cannot do anything in the afternoon.

Tuesday is the third day of the week. Or commonly known in Hebrew as "Yom Shlishi."

Now, here's a slight exception to the rule. Sometimes to make the word feminine you'd add "it" at the end of the word. Therefore, the man standing third in line would say "ani shlishi" and the woman standing third in line would say, "ani shlishit."

Pronounciation key:
shliSHI.

Do not mispronounce or recall from memory this word, or you could end up saying "yom shilshool", which is Hebrew for "diarrhea day" - and that's just way too much information.

X-Ray

I work in construction for those who haven't read my profile yet. Before some of you get excited about me wearing a hard hat and steel toe boots - I look like Marvin the Martian, so save your jokes.

Yesterday I had the most excitement I've had at work since July 5th when I first came on this job.
I started the day off leisurely waking up at 8am instead of the mandatory 4:30am and wasted time in the morning 'til 11am when I left the house for my "evening shift."

Evening shift meant - sitting in the trailer 'til 6pm and waiting for X-ray men to come by. I've been through thousands of x-rays myself, but never seen it done on a building. So here's my version of what happened.

A pickup truck with a housing structure on the bed of the truck, arrived at the front door. An extension cable got pulled out and led into the building so it can be hooked up to the electricity. (You know, just like those funny electrical cars). Inside the housing structure you will find the equipment that develops x-rays. Then the radioactive box comes out, along with some cables, and three sheets of x-ray.

The purpose of this x-ray was to find out what is going on in the concrete slab inside this duct shaft, before the electrician drills in there to place his conduit. Last time they didn't do this x-ray, the electrician ended up drilling straight through another conduit, cutting off electrical power to half the building. Not to worry, wasn't this electrician, wasn't our job, wasn't on my shift. But the concrete core sure looks interesting with that pipe going straight through it.

Two men were needed for this operation. One upstairs on level 1, and one downstairs in the basement. Of course, to make my life more of a thrill it took place in the men's locker room (do the women know what's on the calendars hanging up in the men's locker rooms?). To reach the first floor concrete slab from the basement, you first have to climb a ladder up to the hanging ceiling, and then it's about 16 feet above the ceiling tiles.

The process, rather simple when you see it happening, three x-ray sheets are placed on the concrete slab inside the duct shaft on the first floor level, then - downstairs in the basement - a pogo stick long enough is placed above the ceiling so it reaches the underside of the concrete slab. Then the radioactive box is attached to the bottom of the stick, and a long cable is attached to the box. There's a handle at the end of this cable and if you happen to be standing right next to it, taking photos, you'll be told "watch out not to trip the wire or we'll be radioactive in seconds."

Then, we spent 15 minutes trying to find the supervisor for the cleaning lady so he can tell her to take a break and leave the locker rooms. Then another 10 minutes to warn the security guards not to go downstairs. Another 15 minutes to post "radioactive" signs through the immediate hallways of the basement and first floor. One minute for me to take photos of existing conditions of ceiling in case it gets damaged in the process. Another 15 minutes to wait for our point of contact to get a radio for both x-ray men.

Then we were asked to stand behind the doors. X-Ray man then cranked the handle, shifting the isotopes to the box, and they proceed to flow through the long pogo stick and hit the slab from underneath (keep in mind, the x-ray sheets are laying on top of this slab). So basically it's radiation all in the open and anyone standing within 30 feet of it in any direction is in danger. So I stood in the hallways with X-ray man, and asked him about the mechanism of the x-ray, which as you can see I already forgot. Too much chemistry if you ask me. I did get to ask him if his hero is Wilhelm Conrad Roentgen, but he just laughed it off saying, "Nah, Superman is my hero, because he can do this without a machine!"

Eight minutes later, x-ray man went back inside, stopped the machine, and we went off to his truck to develop the x-rays. Half hour later, he was done drawing the borders of the area on the x-ray sheets where the electrician can drill (you have to remember that if it's a human body, there are bones that give us the point of reference. When you x-ray concrete, there's nothing to give us that point of reference, so it must be drawn in). Then we all went back inside so x-ray man can paint the pattern on the actual slab so there is absolutely no doubt where the electrician can drill. You would think this painting would be done with a spray can, but no, a simple sharpie is sufficient (that's if it doesn't run out, like it did last night). Then they sprayed it with lacquer so no one takes these marks off. I am so tempted to come in this morning, bring my sharpie and draw more lines there!

So overall - a three hour process of preparing and developing for an 8 minute ordeal.

I'm just glad it's over, because due to some weird coincidence a family relative is due for an x-ray next Monday on a strategic point in his body, and for the past two weeks I've had to cope with Outlook reminders that popped up with "X-Ray of Shaft" and I could not for the life of me figure out WHICH shaft???!???

Lesson 2a

At Zombieslayer's special request, I hereby bring you translation to his pick-up line:

"Hey baby, your eyes sparkle like metal in a microwave."

Hey m'tooka, ey-naikh notsé-tsot kmo maté-khet b'microgal.

Hey - Hey.
m'tooka - comes from the word matok, which means sweet.
ayin - means eye. énayim means eyes. ey-naikh means "your eyes."
notsé-tsot - sparkle (in the plural feminine form, because eyes is a feminine word).
kmo - like.
maté-khet - metal.
b' - in.
micro - micro.
gal -wave.

Pronounciation key:
Hey m'tooKA, ey-naiKH notsé-TSot kmo maTE-khet b'MIcrogal.


I will now entertain any other requests for lessons in Hebrew, and will add them to this post as the comments are posted.
This is rapidly becoming a blog-at-your-request. This makes my life so much easier. No more hard work thinking what to post. I'll just accept any special requests from the audience.

Note to mtrain: I do have my limits! Don't push your luck.

ADDENDUM:

RockJock's mention of a preferred pick-up line is "Please bring me a cold beer":

Ta'v'ii li bira kara.

Ta'v'ii - bring (addressed to a female. Or tavi when addressing a male).

li - to me.

bira - ok, do I really need to translate this one?

kara - cold. (the adjectives in Hebrew always follow the noun).

Pronounciation key:

ta-V-EEE li BI-rah kah-RAH

Note: pronounciation on non-Hebrew words goes to the front of the word.

Cultural note: Israelis don't use the word "please." Deal with it.

Second Hebrew Lesson

For those of you who missed the FIRST Hebrew lesson, scroll down two posts to find it.

So here we are on Monday morning. Monday being the second day of the week according to the Torah. Therefore it would only make sense to call it in Hebrew "The Second Day" - Yom Sheni.
יום שני

Yom - for those of you who slept through the past three months of my blogging, is "Day."

Sheni - is second (in the masculine form, because the word "day" is masculine).

If a man is standing second in line, he'd say - ani sheni.
If a woman is standing second in line, she'd say - ani shniya.

Which brings me to the word "second" as in "I'll be there in a sec." So here's your bonus lesson: The translation to saying "I'll be there in a sec." or "just a second" or "wait a second" is the simple Hebrew word "Shniya!"

Ah, wait, I think I neglected to explain pronounciation. The English language puts the emphasis on most words in the beginning of the word. The Hebrew language puts the emphasis on the end of most words.

So proper pronounciation for the two words you learned so far would be:
riSHON.
sheNI.
shniYA.

This is probably the most difficult part for Americans to get used to when learning Hebrew, and the easiest way to pick them out of a crowd speaking Hebrew.

Last quiz taker failed my quiz. I'm waiting to find the genius in class.

She said, she said

As most of you already heard, Southerngirl was forced to early blog retirement due to family circumstances. I hope you will all join me in sending her sister all the positive vibes and well wishes as she heads for treatments for breast cancer. We will patiently, or impatiently, await her return with good news about her sister. In the meantime, those of you who pray - this is the time. Those of you who don't - good vibes, pink balloons and contributions to the advancement of research to cure Breast Cancer are more than welcome. But more importantly, the women among you - don't forget the self-exam. Do it today! And the men among you - remind the women in your lives to do the self-exam.

Before Southerngirl's departure, we worked furiously at our counter-post to CS's "Special Edition: Top 3". Thank you Zombieslayer for coming out with the challenge.

SPECIAL EDITION: TOP 3

Unlike Culture Shock, we will not elaborate in words, since we believe the photos will speak for themselves. And anyway, we're at a loss for words when faced with the sex appeal of these men.

So here it is, the top three, as mutually agreed upon by Mybrid and Southerngirl:

No doubt, George Clooney is still a hotty:

Mr. Clooney is not in the habit of taking his clothes off for the camera, so you'll have to live with these photos instead.

Next comes a good contender for first place, Mr. Eric Benet, a singer who used to be married to Halle Berry. Yeah, we don't mind waking up to this deep look every morning

Nor do we mind skinny dipping with this hunk!

And last but not least, is another "old timer" in women's fantasies around the world - Mr. Hugh Grant. And without further ado, I give you this hot photo:

Yeah, this smile will get him into my bed anytime! I'm sure my hubby will understand. Com'n who can resist those deep blue eyes?!

Now, because we're women and we cannot agree on some other well deserved hotties, we are giving you here those outcasts that had to go into an individual list according to our personal preferences.

Southerngirl's next top 3 choices: Johnny Depp.

Jon Stewart - because you "want to jump his bones just for his mind!"

And to finish Southerngirl's list, I give you - Orlando Bloom:

And because this is MY blog, here's Mybrid's next top 3.

Bono - because there's something amazing about his voice, his looks, his politics, his energy and his country of origin:

Wayne Brady from "Whose Line Is It Anyway" - not only funny but com'n, look at that smile!

.

.

.

.

.

.

And last but definitely not least - Ed Norton, an actor. That bedroom look in his eyes gets me every time.

So that's all folks. Our top nine. And we now open the floor to the next contenders in line.

For Tenxin Choden

And here's the promised Hebrew lesson.

Today is Sunday. Sunday comes after Saturday which is God's resting day. Therefore Sunday is the FIRST day of the week. (TC, are you paying attention?)

Sunday in Hebrew is - Yom Rishon. [Yom = Day ; Rishon = First] יום ראשון

Because Day is considered to belong to the masculine words in Hebrew, the word that describes it has to be in the masculine form - Rishon.

If you're describing a word that is of the feminine words in Hebrew, you'd say "Rishona." [Adding an "a" to many words in Hebrew makes it take the feminine form. Also many female names in Israel end with A.]

If you're standing in line, and you're a male, you'd say "Ani Rishon" (I'm first). ראשון
If you're standing in line, and you're a female, you'd say "Ani Rishona" (I'm first). ראשונה

You could just shorten it to say, "Rishon" or "Rishona" - it'd have the same effect.

Your first quiz of the day will be graded when you comment.

Good luck!

He said, she said

So last night I went out with friends (no spouses or significant others). These friends happen to be one of my bosses, a co-worker and an ex-co-worker. Needless to point out that the common factor between us - the company where I work.

A couple of drinks into our dinner and we're all heavily into company gossip. Professional gossip, not personal.

My culture and religion considers gossiping as a very serious offense. And in spite of not being religious, I always feel really bad after engaging in some heavy gossiping. I know it's one of my biggest faults, and I often hate myself for falling into that trap. It's a great feeling while I'm engaging in this unheard of behaviour, but it really sucks after. Sort of like indulging in a nice large meal or a "few" drinks. Makes you feel great while you eat and drink, but the following day you feel like crap.

When I took Anthropology 101 the teacher "took" us around the world in investigation of how cultures see gossiping. In fact, one particular African tribe considers it impolite if you do not engage in gossiping when social interaction expects you to do so. I was fascinated by the example she gave (wish I could recall it in detail and do it justice, but I don't recall it). After taking that class I started evaluating this concept a bit deeper. Then by some odd coincidence I overheard the neighbourhood kids underneath my window talking to each other. It was the type of conversation of "he said, she said." What I gathered from that conversation was that some of these kids had just confirmed that another kid from their school is a liar and is doing things that they all agreed upon are wrong. So I was sitting there thinking, if these kids did not gossip, they would have never found out what is considered socially acceptable by the majority of their peers. They would have never learned what type of behaviour is considered good or bad. Sure, we should rely on parents to teach this, but let's be honest - did we learn which kids are bad or good through our parents or through gossiping with friends?! Do we not still seek approval from the majority of our peers to determine what is wrong or right? And how can we do this without gossiping and providing examples?

So since then I no longer feel too guilty about engaging in gossip, though I do feel bad that it has to come to it.

Well, last night I recharged my batteries with quite a bit of gossip that should sustain me for a short while. This is the type of gossip that I need in order to survive the corporate world. The type of gossip that clues me in on the world of my managers, so I know what's going on in the internal politics of the company where I work.

My company is a victim of a social research that investigates the question "can we run this company with as little information sharing as possible?" This research was heavily funded, and my company has yet to reach a conclusion. Of course, they could have asked us for the answers, but that'd mean we'd have to share information and that's defeating the purpose. Confusion and disseminating wrong information is the company's motto. The reason for it - the more people I need to turn to for answers, the more their positions and employment with the company are justified. Why give one person all the information and power, when we can employ ten people who each know only their little part in corporate America and no one knows what the other is doing at any given time. Makes sense when you think of it from a financial point of view. I think. But what do I know?!

So in the meantime, I gather my information through gossip. I've managed to work the path of information fairly well from top to bottom (me being at the bottom). My problem has been disseminating information back to the top. I have so much I want to share with the top and tell them what's going on at the bottom. But the top doesn't seem interested, which is a real shame.

One day when I run my own company, I'll make sure that there are two avenues of communication. Managers evaluate employees, and employees evaluate their managers! Because dog only knows how this one particular manager kept his position when everyone I've talked to told me that they didn't like his managing style either!

So through the gossip lines I've found out that I'm being used for case studies at managers' training, which is cool, but I wish they'd ask me directly. Boy, I can give them SO many case studies from real life on how to improve our company. Heck, I could write a book about it. All those management books written by CEO's? What do they know?! When was the last time they were disgruntled employees?! You want a book on managing your people, ask your people to write it! Let us tell you what you're doing wrong, and what you're doing right.

Or as my boss explained it very nicely with a circular diagram:
Clients pay our company to do the job --> company management takes care of its employees --> employees are happy --> employees take care of their clients --> more work for our company.
Very simple concept. Very noble idea. Take care of your employees. Give them all the information you have. Stop treating them like little kids who can't be trusted. We can move this company light years ahead, if you just give us the tools!

Yeah, I still feel kinda bad for gossiping, and I should be particularly ashamed because I don't have the excuse of "I was drunk." But until they find me a Gossipus Anonymous group, I don't think I can rid of this addiction.

ADDENDUM: I have to post now because I feel an urge to gossip. So my husband made it to the National news! I feel so famous now. No, he's not the BTK killer, may he rot in hell. No, my husband made it to the news by default of his work. Last night when I went out, he called me a couple of minutes after I got to my destination and told me he was called back to work on an emergency. This is the second night this week that I'm spending alone, because of a "work emergency" (in addition to him being gone for 3 days last weekend on Camp Jeep and leaving today for the weekend on another Jeep thing). So I'm thinking about - what's her name? what's she like? Is she tall? Is she younger? Then he got back home and told me that he doesn't need to explain to me where he's been, it'll be on the news. Sure enough, it's all over the news! My husband fights worms. He lost a battle this week against some morons at work. The results of this loss - they got their ass kicked, and thousands of travelers got stranded as a result. All because some stupid asshole working for department-of-you-know-what hooked up his wormy laptop to the network. There goes the neighbourhood!

I feel an obligation towards my mentor, CS, who is now happily retired - HAPPY FRIDAY!

Toda la'el hayom yom shishi!

Jewish Moms

I have a Jewish mother (well, duh! How else would I be a secular Jew?!). I'm sure all of you have heard the stereotypical jokes about Jewish mothers. For me it's no joke. It's reality. In fact, she's not only a Jewish mother, but she's a Polish Jewish mother (double whammy right there!).

When I first moved thousands of miles away, my mother would call me twice a week. It could be 85 degrees Farenheit outside and she'd ask me if I took a sweater in the morning (because you just never know when hell is going to freeze over and you won't have a sweater with you). After ten years here, on one of her calls she asked me one of those silly questions about the sweater, so I said, "Mom, I've lived here ten years! When are you going to let go?"
Mom: "You know what the difference is between a Rottweiler and a Jewish mom?"
Me: "No."
Mom: "The Rottweiler eventually lets go!"

This weekend as I paid homage to the bathroom God, I heard the phone ring. Well, I'm not one of those who takes the phone with her inside the sanctuary. So I let it ring. When I got out I looked at my cellphone and noticed "1 missed call" as well as a message on my home number. The message was from my father who sounded really worried (very unusual for him!), because he wanted to hear what I thought about a DVD he had sent me. I didn't pick up the phone right away, and preferred to email. But between listening to the message and getting on my computer I was slightly distracted for ten minutes before sending the email (my husband refers to it this reaction as "oooh, something shiny"). Not even one minute after I clicked 'send' my cellphone rings. My mother was on the phone this time.

Mom: "Where have you been??? We tried calling you, we emailed you. No answer. What happened? Is everything okay?"
Me: "MOM, I was in the bathroom! Am I not allowed to visit my sanctuary whenever I want to?"
Mom: "Yes, but you didn't even answer our emails..."
Me: "Mom, I didn't get any emails!"
Mom: "That's besides the point. Your dad and I were worried because we know your husband is out of town and you weren't answering the phone. We thought something happened."
Me [laughing uncontrollably]: "So when my husband is out of town I'm not allowed to visit the bathroom anymore?!"

So yeah, I lost another phone battle.

I should tell you about my other battles, such as when they send emails and call me to ask why I haven't responded yet (five minutes later). Or when they text message me on the cellphone and I don't reply right away then they immediately assume I must have been in a car crash, or at the hospital.

Funny thing: The one time I went to the Emergency Room and left on crutches, my mother didn't find out 'til two weeks later!

Yesterday I finally watched the DVD which is basically an hour presentation of all the photos my dad took while visiting Jerusalem last month. Awesome presentation along with beautiful choice of music. I would have loved to share it with everyone I know, but it is an hour long and it's Hebrew music and not everyone appreciates foreign music.

This morning I sent an email to my parents telling them how much I loved the the DVD. Then, in accordance with our family rules and regulations, I text messaged my dad to tell him I sent him an email. Ten minutes later my mother called me to give me an explanation about the DVD and the places I saw.

I learned something new and quite interesting. There's this place in Jerusalem where Utah sends 20-40 mormon students. This place sits on a beautiful hillside with a beautiful view, and they allow visitors to watch Jerusalem from this place. Well now everyone is thinking "Mormons, aren't those the ones on the bikes that go door to door and try and convert you in the U.S.?" **
So here's the thing, before they are sent to Israel they sign a contract that forbids them from talking religion or politics while in Israel. It's so strict that when my mother approached one of them to ask him what Mormons believe in, he refused to answer explaining that they signed a contract that forbids them from trying to convert any Jew in Israel.

Just so you don't think they're the only ones who have these restrictions - the Bahai faith has the same restriction. I love religions that have so much respect for the Jewish land. It's nice that they live and let live. I wish it were true for all religions around the world.

Yes, it's been a culture shock for me to learn about missionaries when I first moved to the U.S. - we just don't have them in Israel, and Judaism is not a missionary religion. (TC, any jokes - welcome!)


** WL told me to add here that when they get to his door, he puts on his tinfoil hat, and when they ask him why he's wearing it, he stares at the sky in a frightened, paranoid look and says, "I don't want the aliens to read my mind!"

Recycling Hell

Wow, what a weekend! I think we could have easily improved on my weekend with some minor business initiative. I decided to clean my computer room from the massive junk on the floor, so I gathered all the stuff that can be thrown away. This involves items that have not been used and will not be used by neither me nor my husband. Ever.

As I sort through the items to rid of I realize that 99% of them can be recycled. You would think this is a rather simple act of putting it all into one box, placing it on the curb on Friday and hoping the Recycling people come by to pick it up. But no, the items I had were not the type that you put out on a curb. Being environmentally aware and trying to do my part in charity, I got online to find out my options.

Item 1: 100+ floppy disks. I’m done copying them into one CD. Now I have a computer without a floppy drive, and I have no use for them. Someone somewhere probably could make good use of them. Keywords search: ‘Floppy disks recycle’ or ‘floppy disks donations’ came up with numerous options but not very viable (I’m not driving to freaking Delaware to recycle some floppies!). After reaching page 7 of the results, I gave up. I ended up spending half an hour looking for a simple answer – take the floppy disks and give them to....
No, dog forbid someone tries to make it easy to get rid of junk. You have to fill up a really long form online to request pickup, detailing how many and what condition. What the #(@. These are freaking useless floppies! Why make it rocket science? I’d rather just chuck them in the trash than go through all this trouble.

Items 2-10: Puzzles, board game, ugly sculpture, jewelry box. Ideally these things are sold for pennies at a yard sale. But I can’t stand the concept of a yard sale (we don’t have those in Israel) and have better things to do with my weekends. So I put them all into one box and drive over to Goodwill. As I get there I observe the workers picking up items from the loading dock and throwing them…to the trash bin! At this point I wondered whether this is the right place to take my stuff if that’s what they end up doing with it. I placed the box on the loading dock, the guy came over to check what’s in it and put my box aside. I have no idea where it ended. I didn’t want to get upset.

Item 3: A set of glass plates, bowls and saucers, and two sets of silverware. I feel kind of strange about giving away silverware and plates that have been used. I mean they’re in good condition and all, but it just feels strange to think that someone else would want used kitchenware. But I decide to hand that decision to Goodwill. I placed this box on the loading dock and alerted the busy employee: “Breakable.” Busy employee goes inside and ignores me. I left the place, but it wouldn’t surprise me if another employee just picked up the box unaware what’s in it only to drop it and break it all.

Item 4: Old brick cellphones. With their boxes, accessories and instruction manuals. Another internet search. 20 minutes later, I determined that my only option is Staples. Nowhere did they mention what they do with these cellphones, which bothered me a bit because I really wanted these to go to the battered women shelter. So I arrived at Staples with my bagful of cellphones (yeah, we’ve had a lot since 1993). The young kid at the Customer Service was in a bit of a shock. I don’t think he’s ever seen cellphones from the 90’s. So he called his manager. His manager comes over, picks up the bag and leaves. I’m standing there sort of stunned, thinking out loud, “You’re welcome!” But I find it difficult to part from my very sentimental belongings without another word, so I ask, “Do I get any receipt?” I mean, com’n I get receipts from any other place for charity, and these cellphones cost me a fortune at the time. But no, Staples Manager doesn’t give me a receipt and explains that Staples just collects them and ships them off to their central office which then gives it to the battered women groups. Sigh of relief. But I’m still upset about not getting a receipt for this $400+ donation.

Item 5: Well, thankfully, the food store is right next door to Staples and dropping off the one pound of plastic bags wasn’t too much of an effort. Nothing in return. No incentive. Which is fine, after all it’s not like I paid money for these plastic bags to begin with.

Item 6: Used ink cartridges. So with this one I’m a bit of a veteran. Office Depot gives me a free ream of Office Depot’s Premium Recycled White Copy Paper for each used ink cartridge I bring in for recycling. But since I was already at Staples I checked out the options. So Staples has a huge sign on their storefront claiming “recycle your ink cartridges here!” Ok, great, but what’s the incentive? None? Oh, fine, I’ll get in my car and drive to Office Depot to recycle my ink cartridges. At least I get something in return! I got to Office Depot (keep in mind, an Office Depot is typically located more than 5 miles from a Staples. Maybe there’s a zoning law about it?), and went over to the ink cartridge counter, where a big sign announces “$2.50 off any ink cartridge if you bring in an ink cartridge for recycling.” So I looked at my bag, looked at the young kid behind the register and said, “Okay, does this mean you no longer give the ream of paper in return for a used cartridge?” He immediately answers, “No, we stopped that program. We now do the $2.50 off a new one.” So I look confused and say, ”So if I have five of them, do you multiply $2.50 by the number of cartridges?” What do you think he answered?
“No, you can only get one discount per day.” Meanwhile, I’m watching him throw away two used cartridges that belonged to another man who’s trying to pick up his new cartridge. I didn’t like his answer and was considering filing a class action law suit, when he says, “Lemme call the manager.” Yup, this is “Call the Manager” day. Manager comes by and tells him to give me a box of paper for five cartridges and I cannot use more than 5 at a time (which is fine by me, because I left the other five at home). Yes! One battle won today. Meanwhile he’s ringing up the other man’s purchase, when his wife realizes what just happened and asks why they’re not getting the $5 off for the two ink cartridges. So I explained the deal to her, and now she’s upset. So her husband asks for the one used cartridge back.
I’d like to ask the general manager of Office Depot – does it make good business sense to harass people like this for trying to do the right thing? If you’re already giving an incentive for recycling, then try not to make us angry in the process or you’re going to lose our business altogether.

Item 7: Oh what the heck, I’m already driving around town with my environmental show-on-the-road, might as well hit the shopping mall to drop off my two pairs of used glasses. So I enter Lens Crafters and ask if I can drop off my used glasses. Now, here’s a pleasant surprise. She takes the glasses, thanks me and says, “Wait, let me give you this receipt for tax purposes.” So she gave me a receipt even showing the value of the glasses ($200). Of course, now I’m getting even more bitter about not getting a receipt from Staples for the cellphones. I hope I remember to claim them on my taxes this year.

Item 8: Used and leaking batteries. Another half hour online and I find out that Staples will only take the rechargeable batteries. Okay, that must be a really popular program. No other options were available. I still have a full drawer of used batteries. A leaking sculpture comes to mind.

Did anyone notice what’s wrong with this picture? In my effort to save the environment, recycle and do the right thing – I spent half a tank of gas driving around town! Can you not just put it all in one building? One recycling center for all items. I’ll bring Mybrid with a full trunk filled with everything. I’ll distribute it to the correct boxes. I’ll spend the five minutes doing it. Done. Instead, I wasted a Saturday, and I pretty much feel discouraged from ever going through this effort again. All I can say now is that doing the right thing turned out all wrong, and now I have a freaking leg cramp from all this clean-up work.

It never gets boring

Culture Shock, this one's for you, as promised.

So yes, I have a famous relative and I'm very proud of him. Of course anyone would be proud of a relative whose picture is displayed in the Inventors Hall of Fame next to Thomas Edison, Louis Pasteur and Walt Disney. His name is Irving Millman, and he invented the vaccine for Hepatitis B. The nobel prize was awarded to his boss who was running the lab, but it's my relative's hard work that concluded with the invention of the vaccine. He has the framed TELEX from 1976 inviting him to attend the award ceremony.

Irving is 82 years old now and is at an Assisted Living facility with his wife. It's difficult for me to write about him because I love him dearly and watching him grow old is very painful. This is the most wonderful, endearing person you'd ever meet in person. He is so humble that hardly anyone at this assisted living know that they're eating breakfast, lunch and dinner in the company of a Hall of Famer. He flirts with the nurses and any young lady that comes by, but lately he's been having difficulty remembering his own name.

On Thursday I went to visit them and sat to talk with his wife for over an hour. She told me he had gone downstairs to watch an Opera show in the "Activities Room." She knew what time it started and she knew it ended at 3pm. Well, 3pm comes and goes. 3:30pm. 3:40pm and he shows up, pacing slowly with his walker. He had a bit of a difficulty remembering my name, but from the way his face lit up I knew he recognized me. He then urged us to come downstairs with him and listen to the fantastic music that was playing downstairs. For five minutes he was raving about the outstanding opera music and got angry at us when we weren't fast enough to get up and follow him. We kept trying to explain to him that the show was over at 3pm and there's nothing down there. But he insisted that it's still going on and we must come and see it.

We decided to avoid any further anger and walk with him downstairs. His wife and her walker, following the husband with the walker. Both walking the same speed, but the wife kept urging the husband, "go in front of me, you walk faster." So we finally got to the "Activities Room" and there are two women fast asleep in their chairs, and one staring into space not really focusing on the TV screen. Irving then sat down and invited me to sit next to him. I sat down and looked at the screen.

The DVD is done playing - since 3pm most likely. It's on the menu screen with the words "Play" ..."Scenes"..."Menu" written at the bottom, while the trailer is continuously showing Placido Domingo and a couple of other famous opera singers. It shows them for ten second and cuts to the next scene. The overall trailer goes back to the beginning after a full minute. But to Irving and his senile friends, it's all new every minute they look at it... Never gets boring.

I wanted to push the Play button on the remote so bad. I think I'm going to add a line into my Living Will: If I'm staring at a TV screen and the DVD trailer has gone for longer than five minutes - just shoot me!

Going mental

After almost two months of blogging I'm suffering from mental constipation, or as the professionals call it - writers' block. Got plenty of thoughts and things to write about, but just can't seem to get it down on the keyboard.

I've been using this blog as an escape. Someone has claimed that I'm developing multiple personalities by holding on to multiple blogs with different characteristics on them. But what this person overlooked is that the name of this blog is indeed HYBRID thoughts. Hybrid being a combination of several, possibly opposite, personalities within me. No, it's not a medical condition. It's just that I go through mood swings, and I knew this before starting the blog. Maybe I should have called it "up-and-down"? I bet this name is already taken.

Today is Friday. It's our breakfast morning. I decided that every Friday WL and I should visit the cafeteria and have a leisurely breakfast together. Of course there's no difference between sitting and talking over breakfast, versus talking in the trailer like we do all the time, but at least food is involved so we have something to look forward to. This is also when I get to hear WL's stories about his ex, his girlfriend and his boys. Typically I get bored from hearing people talk about their personal lives (so I'm not offended when others get bored reading my blog) - but I realised that it's not about the stories, but about the storyteller. When the storyteller is engaging, I can listen to ANY story from them. Yeah, sometimes even sports.

My husband is off to Camp Jeep since yesterday. He woke me up late last night to tell me he's arrived at the Camp. Today and this weekend he'll be covering his Jeep in mud through "exciting" trails. Then he'll come back home excited like a little kid telling me all about it. Next weekend, he's going on another Jeep event. I think he's trying to squeeze as much summer as he can from this Jeep before going into hybernation.

I had to go by our main office this morning to pick up ink cartridges for our printer here. Got there at 6:15am, which is not typical time for anyone to be at work in this office. When I opened the door and turned on the lights, one of the employees came out of the kitchen, looking rather dazed and disshelved. Had me wondering. But for the benefit of the doubt, I didn't go checking the kitchen. I just picked up the cartridge and mail and left. I was trying to get out of there as fast as possible because my mother was on the phone and it's embarrassing for me to speak in Hebrew around English speaking people. Maybe embarrassing is the wrong word. I just notice people looking at me funny and prefer not to encourage any kind of misconceptions about foreigners being rude and loud.

Speaking of rude and loud, I find it funny that any tourist who goes to another country seems to get disgusted by the behaviour of other tourists from their own country! So as an Israeli, when I visit Europe and come across other Israelis I think they are too loud and rude. Same with Americans. They go to Europe, come back and tell everyone how rude Americans are in Europe. I think what many don't notice is that they're more atuned to hearing their own language, so it comes across as loud, but it really isn't. It's the same volume as any other tourists (except maybe the chinese who seem to communicate via telepathy or something).

Has anyone noticed the ratio of Japanese tourists to their cameras? I think it's somewhere close to the ratio of Israelis to cellphones. My husband calls me a Japanese Jew because of the camera.

TFL, I have some photos for you. The other night my husband called me to come see a visitor to our basement. Apparently, he was playing a video game when the voice of the narrator told him, "Open the gate, and let the dragons in." As he was waiting for the gate to open, something flashed by the side of his eyes, and this is what he found.

Okay, I'm hungry and breakfast is indeed the most important meal of the day! 80% of Israelis agree with me.

Toda la'el hayom yom shishi.

I feel like quitting!

So yesterday morning after WL conveyed to me the gist of a phone conversation with our boss, I was ready to get in my car, drive to the office and quit my job. Instead, I called my best friend - vented to him, then called my husband and cried to him. They managed to convince me to first talk to our boss and only then I'll have enough weapons to quit my job.

To give you a quick idea of what I was willing to quit over. I've been asked (via WL) to step back to the 20th century and quit pushing our company forward to technological progress. Typically, most people wouldn't mind it and say, "Fine, you want me to go back to pen and paper and waste secretary time to type my chicken scratch, not a problem." But I have an ethical problem with this waste of company time, money and resources.

In my job interview almost seven years ago, I was asked (surprisingly enough), "What would you like to do?" This question caught me off guard (it was my first job interview). All this time I prepared to be told what to do. But because this job interview was during the same week when I attended a conference called "Computers in Construction," I was absolutely convinced that this is the future of the construction industry, so I answered, "I'd like to use advanced technology in Construction." I actually dreamt of becoming an Information Systems Manager for a company in the construction industry (as a result of one particular class I took for my Masters degree). Within a month on a new project, I was given a 3 day course in MS Access, and upon completion was requested to develop a database. I will remind everyone at this point - I had never taken a computer class prior to this. The only computer experience I had was chatting on Compuserve (now owned by AOL), and a couple of AutoCAD courses during my Architecture degree.

Within a couple of years, I've become the company's Database Programmer and Information Systems Manager. Dream accomplished. Next.

I love databases, I love computers. I've developed numerous databases for our clients and our own company. Everyone loves my databases (eventually. Once they get over the learning curve). And here I was in this trailer on a government job, trying to improve the way we do things - so I developed a database. It saves tremendous amount of time and aggravation when searching for anything, in comparison to MS Word files for each report.

So WL gets a call from our boss (God forbid he actually calls me directly!!!), who tells him - "what's up with this report? It's not the way we do things in this company [read: 30 years ago when I was hired we didn't do it this way]. The words are all cut off, it's not professional. Tell her to stop doing this. The secretary in the main office can type it all up in our company's format."

I was furious! What a load of crap! I'm being asked to stop using a tool that helps us do our job better? I'm being asked to stop using a tool which the client finds extremely useful? I'm being asked to go back to pen and paper in the 21st century???!!! Fuck this! I'm not going to continue working with a company that insists on stepping in place and refuses to go forward and embrace technology for all it's worth.

So after some good amount of tears and frustration over wanting to quit, I was finally talked into handling this like an adult (damn these people who make sense!). So I asked WL to accompany me to the main office so I can talk this over with our boss (I needed a witness).

In the afternoon we descended upon the office and spoke to the boss.

Me: "I understand you have an issue with the report I sent out, and some words are cut off?"
Boss: "Well, yeah, all those words in the report were cut off."
Me: "May I see it, so I can possibly find out why you had a problem with this?"
Boss: "No, I threw it away."
Me: "Well, okay, here's what I printed from my printer and what the client received. Nothing is cut off, and everything is fine. It could very well be that your Adobe Acrobat is not updated or your printer doesn't have the correct driver and it's cutting off the margins."
Boss: "Oh, well if the client likes it, that's fine then."

WHAT AN ASSHOLE!!! This is NOT what he discussed with WL on the phone. (WL refers to this event as a mental workout). All of a sudden he backs down because this boss is afraid of his own shaddow and any confrontation. And 'oh, my, god, I have to speak to a woman working for me. I don't think I can handle it. I'll just communicate through WL.'

So back to my database it is. He ought to be glad I didn't use my big guns on him, telling him that his boss's boss (vice president of our company) is the one who requested this database for another client, and I just modified it for our client.

I didn't quit. But I swear to dog, if this happens again, I'm going to step into my previous boss's office and give him a one day notice (eventhough I owe them a 30 days notice if I quit).

Note: This morning I heard on my favourite radio station: "Other radio stations boast that they have the best music; the most music in an hour; the most popular morning show. Our station's motto is - The longer you listen to us, the later it gets!"

The Alien

Question # 86: Name one benefit of being a citizen of the United States.
Answer # 86: Obtain federal government jobs...

Well, what better reason than that to apply for U.S. citizenship. So as I sat this morning in the trailer across a government agency building, bored to tears, and decided it was a perfect time to connect with my dial-up connection to U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services and figure out what miracles I need to perform in order to become a U.S. Citizen.

I e-filed the I-90 last week, to request a new Green Card since mine expires next week. This morning I downloaded the N-400 (N stands for Naturalization, and the I stands for Immigration). Sixteen pages later, plus a hundred sample questions from a citizenship exam, and I'm ready to spend my day filling in questions about myself that I had never really taken the time to give it second thought until today.

Within a couple of minutes I reached my first hurdle. There's a biometrics fee - $70 if you file the I-90. Strangely enough, there's a biometrics fee ($70) if you file in the N-400. So I think to myself, "Alright, it's fingerprints. It's electronic. It's with the USCIS agency. Do I really need to pay twice???" So I called them up. Care to guess what the Capitalistic government of the U.S.A. answered me? Yeah, no surprise there. Just a huge amount of frustration when I'm being treated like an idiot - "Well, of course you have to pay it twice. It's a different file!" I really wanted to answer her back with, "Well, no wonder your government is all screwed up, if they cannot keep one set of fingerprints for each terrorist in your database!" But I didn't want to be stripped off my citizenship before I even got it. So I kept my mouth shut.

Back to my N-400 form. Part 5.C. Weight: Hmmmm....okay, do I exaggarate to the top or to the bottom. Will I add 10lb or lose 10lb by the time the immigration officer sees me? Minor hurdle, I erred on the side of low. It's easier to explain gaining weight.

Part 5.G. Eye Color: Alright, what are my options? Brown - no; Blue - Yeah, I think so; Green - no ; Hazel - ok, what's this in Hebrew? ; Gray - is that a color?; Black - no ; Pink - ??!!! ; Maroon - ! ; Other - "I'm blind can't you see."

Part 7.A. How many total days did you spend outside of the United States during the past 5 years? You mean to tell me, that America's advanced technology hasn't reached a point where they can just look into their U.S. Customs database and at a click of a button get that information based on my departure and entry stamps? Yeah, I definitely need to get this citizenship so I can help this government develop better functioning databases.

Part 7.B. How many trips of 24 hours or more have you taken outside of the United States during the past 5 years? I would have told you if I had a passport that made sense. But for some reason, your agents keep stamping it either wrong way up or wrong side left. No matter how many times immigration officers encounter an Israeli passport, they still haven't figured out it opens from right to left. Needless to say, I have quite a few back pages stamped, a whole lot of empty in the center, and the mandatory Israeli entry stamps on the right side. Every so often someone gets smart and throws my passport in the air, and whatever page it falls on - they stamp it.

Part 7.C. List below all the trips of 24 hours or more that you have taken outside of the United States since becoming a Lawful Permanent Resident. You have GOT to be kidding me! I need to recall now all my trips spanned over two passports, in the past 10 years??? And if I forget one, will you deport me?

And now we reach the trick questions.
Part 8. Information About Your Marital History.
Part 8.G. How many times has your current spouse been married (including annulled marriages)? Umm...err....okay, 'been' as in 'before he married me'? or 'been' as in 'so far'? To be safe, I text message the question to my spouse. His reply: 1. Ok, fine - 1 it is. [Though after the third call to my spouse he declared right out, "you call me one more time with these silly questions, and you'll be writing 2 in this part!"]

Part 10.A.6. Do you have any title of nobility in any foreign country? No, but I'm dying to find out what this means for them. Do they get the red carpet treatment? Or the public flogging?

Part 10.B.8.a. Have you EVER been a member of or associated with any organization, association, fund, foundation, party, club, society, or similar group in the United States or in any other place? Well, according to all the junk mail I get I'm a member of a couple dozen associations and foundations just by default of paying $10 one time when I felt charitable. Does that count?

Part 10.B.9.c Have you EVER been a member of or in any way associated (either directly or indirectly) with: A terrorist organization? At this point I'd like to express my concern at the American government's method of finding terrorists. I'm just not too confident this will work. But hey, what the heck, I'll be a trooper and answer "no."

Part 10.B.11 Have you ever persecuted (either directly or indirectly) any person because of race, religion, national origin, membership in a particular social group, or political opinion? Now here's the thing, I didn't persecute anyone. But I definitely harrassed a couple of Israelis for holding a right-(read: wrong)-wing political view. Of course, this carries about zero relevance to your question, but I want you to know that I'm on the U.S.-side on this issue. DeSettle them all, I say.

Part 10.B.12. Between March 23, 1933 and May 8, 1945.... Okay, seriously folks, I just told you I was born decades later. You can't possibly hold me accountable for something my previous reincarnation had done. Can you?

Fun part is here:
Part 10. D. Good Moral Character. I should pass this with flying colours! Oh, sorry - colors (do I also need to learn how to spell and speak like Americans to pass this citizenship test?).

Part 10.D.22.a. Have you EVER been a habitual drunkard? Define habitual? And I'd like to report some friends who should be accused of "behaviour of unbecoming a citizen."
Part 10.D.22.b. Have you EVER been a prostitute, or procured anyone for prostitution? Bummer. The U.S. draws the line at prostitutes becoming citizens.

And now we're off to the most difficult part of this questionnaire. The Oath Requirements.
Part 10.H.35. Do you understand the full Oath of Allegiance to the United States? Yeah, yeah, get on with it.

Part 10.H.37. If the law requires it, are you willing to bear arms on behalf of the United States? WHOA! Now wait a minute. Hold on! NOW you ask me this??? Forget the other 16 pages. Stop the train, I'm getting off. This was all fun and entertaining. But this is serious shit here. You want me to do WHAT? Ummm...I have the right to maintain dual citizenship. This means I bear arms on behalf of Israel. If Congress decides to declare war against Israel, you're on your own. I'm not bearing no arms. You carry your own damn weapons.

Yup, I'll be a model citizen, I will. Just you wait.

Oh yeah, I forgot - there's still 100 questions to answer on the test. A good reason for a whole new post...

Today's Post

Today's post is given to you as a guest post on Culture Shock's blog. Click here to get to it. Or read a copy of it above, but then you'd miss out on all the comments.

Nuts

I thought I've seen it all in the U.S., from Scrabble matches, spelling Bees and Hot Dog Eating competitions shown on the Sports channel, through crazy people standing in line at midnight to buy Harry Potter. But yesterday evening as I was reading the newspaper during dinner (it's a family tradition and one I don't care to stop), I saw yet more proof that these Americans are crazy!

The U.S. Marbles Championship!

For those of you who don't care for signing on yet another news website, I'll sum it up for you. A little over twenty marble players (oh, you didn't really believe this was a popular sport, didja?) gather for this Championship. The goal is to be the first to knock 50 marbles outside the border of a concrete circle that is 10 feet in diameter. Only 13 marbles are placed at each round, or "rack" (these funny Americans have a word for everything, don't they?).

As I read this article in complete amazement I showed it to my husband and exclaimed, "This is absolutely ridiculous!" My husband, in defense of his countrymen, said that he's not surprised, then he asks me, "didn't you play with marbles when you were in school?"

Well, no, I didn't! Marbles were too expensive and only rich kids had them. Back in Israel we'd play with gogo'im, or if you grew up in Jerusalem you'd call it Aju'im (Hebrew plural 'im' attached to an Arabic word **, 'cause Jerusalemites are strange) or some would call it Aju'kim (jukim also means cockroaches in Hebrew, and thus endeth your Hebrew lesson for this week). Gogo'im are the pits inside our very popular apricots.

Now, because Hebrew is a rather simplistic biblical language, you must all understand that we use one Hebrew word where Americans use ten. I honestly never understood the reasoning behind this overuse of words, so my husband has had to learn how to reinterpret what I mean every so often. Why am I telling you all this - because in Hebrew it's the same word for seed, nut and pit. It's inside a fruit - it's a nut. [In future posts I'll give you more examples of English vs. Hebrew].

So in this game gogo'im, we'd pitch the apricot nuts against a wall, and whoever threw the closest nut to the wall would win everyone else's nuts that were thrown during this round. Some kids would have huge baskets of these apricot nuts. This was a very popular game during our 10am break at school. Some kids would bring a bag of apricots and eat them through break, so they'd have something to play with. It was a cool game, where the goal was to grab as many nuts as possible. For those who think I've just invented a poor people's game, feel free to read this website.

So I explained to my husband, "We didn't play with 'spensive marbles, we ate healthy and encouraged others to eat apricots and recycled the trash!" As I walked away from the dinner table, I saw my husband snicker behind his newspaper. I walked upstairs, when I heard him shout after me, "You're just an Israeli nut grabber!"


** The word Aju in Arabic means "seed."