London, Day 1 and 2

I got sunburnt in London in January! Two days here and I'm accustomed to looking right before crossing a street, finding the subway, figuring out which one to take, and minding the gap.

I've been to the British Airways London Eye, Tate Modern, Chinese New Year parade at Charring Cross Road, Chinese show at Trafalgar square (with 20,000 other spectators), British Museum (where I bought a pin that has an Egyptian mummy on it, and the writing "I love my mummy" -had her laughing at it), Chinese fireworks, and finished the day at Hing Loon - a Chinese restaurant in Chinatown.

So far I've been extremely lucky with beautiful sunny weather. Absolutely perfect for all the sightseeing I had planned.

I love London. So much to see, so much to do. Very lively city with a ton of tourists speaking all languages. But today, we were all Chinese for a day. It's the year of the dog! This is going to be an awesome year!

Don't Call Us, We'll Call You

I've had this song in my head for the past day that just won't leave me! I may have to erupt in song and dance at work before I leave tonight.

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go....
I'm leaving on a Jet Plane
Don't know when I'll be back again...

For a little added excitement on my last day, my husband had a blonde moment this morning as he grabbed MY cellphone and left me with his. Needless to say, I found this quite amusing that on the one day that I should be stressed and making these stupid mistakes, my husband beat me to it.

We have the same type of cellphone (Nokia - oh, how much I LOVE Nokia!!!). We both have aliens on our cellphone's background. But they're different aliens and definitely distinguishable if you pay attention to the screen before grabbing the cellphone... His has Marvin the Martian and mine has E.T. (yeah, we're a match made in heaven). We also have different cellphone rings identified with different people that call us. We each have over 20 cellphone rings, but somehow we ended up selecting the same ring tone for when we receive a call from each other - The Muppets Show (yeah, we're goofy that way). But for some reason, my cellphone recently stopped recognizing my husband's cellphone number, and has been ringing with the tone-of-the-day that I select (I change them about once in two weeks or more often, depending on my mood, or the holiday).

So when I realised my husband has my cellphone I called my cellphone to let him know that he needs to tell everyone that calls me that he's a blonde. As he picked up the cellphone, I could hear all his co-workers laughing so hard in the background that he couldn't talk to me. He was forced to respond to their questions just to make them shut up. When I asked him what that was all about, he explained that when I rang him they all heard the tone I set for this week "Under Pressure" (by Queen). I suppose they all got so used to hearing The Muppets, that this caught them off-guard.

Half hour later my husband called me and explained that he had put call-forwarding on all incoming calls to my cellphone, so I'll get them on HIS cellphone today. But he warned me not to place call forwarding on his cellphone to mine, because then we'll be placing the calls in a loop of hell. I actually think that could be exciting!


Meanwhile, to all my Muslim friends, I wish you all a Happy New Year!!! And to my Chinese friends worldwide - wishing you, too, a Happy New Year!!!

I'm really loving this year so far, all these holidays coinciding is pretty neat.

TODAH LA'EL HAYOM YOM SHISHI!!!

It's NOT a vacation

After completing my itinerary for Australia and showing it to coworkers and friends I've been informed that a clarification is in place.

This is not a vacation. It's a trip!

Here's the thing - if I'm going to spend this much money on flying somewhere that I've never been to, I'll be darned if I'm going to sit still and "take a vacation." I could do that HERE at home. I don't need to spend thousands of dollars for THAT. No, siree. If I'm going overseas, to an exotic place like Australia I'm going to put in every effort possible to see everything there is to see in that country that's worth the flight ticket and then some!

It's a trip of a lifetime and I have no intention at staying in the hotel and doing nothing. That'd be a waste of time and money.

I've had many months and years where I was forced to "rest" at home and do nothing. Now that I'm capable of doing more, I'm going to take advantage of every moment. Because I'll get enough of this "rest and take vacation" when I'm in my 80's and can't move. As long as I can physically travel, I plan to use and abuse my physical right to do so.

And when I turn 80 and forced to stay home and rest, I'll have the memories of a lifetime from travelling everywhere I could and seeing everything there was to see in every city I go to.

Life is too short to rest and take it easy. Way too short! I want to create memories now. Something to live off when I'm in a nursing home typing memories on my blog.

So yesterday I bought a small carry-on duffle bag, nice bright orange-sand colour. Kipling. With the little cute monkey that sucks on his finger. I LOVE that bag! It's almost the colour of my favourite drink - Fanta orange.

I'm not packed yet, because my husband does the packing (to preserve peace at home and to reduce his stress levels of watching me pack, I leave it for him). But everything is arranged on the floor in the living room next to each luggage (London and Australia). This morning I added a small note with a two sided arrow identifying the very clear separation line between stuff to go to London and stuff to go to Australia. I hope the wind doesn't blow the note and all my stuff gets shipped to the wrong country.

I'm stressed to the Nth level, but I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to rest on the flight tomorrow night.

I'll try to post one more time before leaving. Hey, it's Friday tomorrow!

Conforming

After the "Round Town with an Oven" story, I was so ready to get away from my crazy husband, that I took off with my friends to see "Brokeback Mountain."

I don't typically go to Romance movies, but if they happen to be on TV and I switched to the channel at the right time, I'd probably stay on that channel.

There are no spoilers in this post, so if you haven't seen the movie, I promise not to tell you anything you haven't already read in reviews about the movie.

I don't think I'd call this a Romance. Yes, it's about love, and it's about cowboys, and it's about men and their expression of feelings (or lack thereof!). But more than anything I felt that this was about conforming to society's expectations and living up to these expectations. It's about reconciling your true feelings with what you know society expects you to feel.

It's a very tough place to be. I'm living it every day. Being a Jew and an Israeli my friends and family had certain expectations from me. I decided not to conform to society's expectation and went against it. So in a way, I'm living the opposite story of the two cowboys. Yet, I'm not having it any easier than they did. Do I think life would have been easier if I married within my culture and people? Maybe a little easier. But with my curiosity about other cultures and other people I'd probably always feel that I'm missing out on something.

Sometimes I wonder if maybe I shouldn't have married and just lived life for the moment, without conforming to what people perceive as an obvious happy end to any love relationship - marriage. It's not that I don't enjoy being married, but it'd be fun not to be confined to one person for life and get to know other people as well without society judging me about my morals or my non-conforming decisions.

Every society I've lived in or experienced has a certain group of expectations. I can never seem to fit into any one society. I wish I could take one expectation from this group, one from this group, one from this group, and create my own cult. But then I run the risk of being seen as an eccentric by ALL societies. So I'm doomed to a life of conformity. A life of feeling conflicted about what I really WANT to do versus what people expect from me.

Deep down inside, I think everyone suffers the same to one level or another. I strongly doubt that anyone is 100% happy to live a life of conformance, or a life of defiance. Or maybe it's about just being happy and finding things to be happy about and disregarding all the things to be unhappy about.

So what life have you chosen - conformance or defiance?

What's that smell???

Last Saturday I spent all day researching the itinerary for London. The following day it was my intention to spend all day researching the itinerary for Australia. My husband had other plans for me.

It was 2pm when he decided to cook something to eat before the Pittsburgh-Indianapolis football game. I was upstairs on my computer, minding my own business, searching for information about Uluru. I heard him in the kitchen as he was making quite a bit of noise slamming doors and drawers. After a couple of minutes I decided to go check up on why he's making so much noise. By the time I got to the kitchen he was already downstairs in the basement across the TV, but this god-awful stink was emanating from the kitchen and rapidly consuming the living room, and climbing upstairs. The stink was absolutely horrendous, and I had to open all the windows right away and spray the air with some perfume.

I walked downstairs, and before I got a chance to ask him what on earth he was cooking, he asks me, "Does it stink upstairs?" (as he continues to gobble his beef ravioli). I was absolutely shocked that he could even EAT in this stench. It smelled like cooked sewage pie in our kitchen. I told him the stink was unbearable and he has to go upstairs and find out the source of this smell, while _I_ have a trip to Australia to plan for.

I went back to my computer, and heard my husband move the oven across the kitchen floor. A couple of minutes later he comes upstairs and tells me, "You've got to come see this!" So I followed him to the kitchen, where he proceeded to lift the top part of the oven, where the insulation material between the stovetop and the oven is spread. And right there in the middle were the signs left by a mouse - our Labrador’s dog food kibbles arranged in a circle like Stonehenge and a comfy li'l nest for the little creature. Yup, my husband cooked dog food! It's a crying shame, too, because this was obviously a place of worship for our little visitor.

Ok, put yourselves in my husband's shoes now, what would you do? Keep in mind, this is an intelligent, smart man.

Yes, he slammed the top of the oven shut, lifted the oven and off it went into his Jeep! Then he turns to me and says, "Are you coming???" I looked at him completely astonished and asked him where he intends to take this oven. My husband declared, "The municipality dump!" I ran back to my computer and went online. After a whole day of researching London websites, I was frantically looking for the button on the Municipality dump Website that says, “Visit Us.” Took me a while to realize that this is not a tourism point of attraction and would not be referred to as a “Visit Us” type place. I finally found out that it is indeed open on Sundays until 3pm. Sydney will have to wait.

As we drove to the dump, every turn my husband took, I could hear those dog kibbles sliding back and forth. I was dying to ask him what he was thinking when he decided to just leave it all in there, instead of just removing all the insulation material with the food and throwing it into the trash, but he seemed in a pretty bad mood at this point. After 13 years of marriage I've learned when not to ask "stupid questions."

We arrived at the dump before 3pm, but sure enough it was closed on Sundays in January (damn useless municipality websites!). So he turned to me and asked, "What's plan B?" I looked puzzled and admitted failure at not coming up with Plan B before we left home. So he made an executive decision and decided to find a construction site that uses metal and throw the oven into their trash collector. After climbing up all trash collectors on five construction sites around town, he gave up and said, "Ok, plan C!" At this point I was just curious to see what he'd come up with, so I didn't volunteer any suggestions. Plan C involved donating an oven with dog food to charity! I considered asking him to drop me off, because I was too ashamed to give an oven that's uncleaned to charity, but once again I was terribly curious to see how this would turn out. Thankfully, Goodwill has standards and does not take ovens. Will miracles never cease?!

Defeated and upset, my husband sat in his Jeep trying to devise a new plan. I looked at the oven in an accusing look, looked at my husband and said, "Well you know, if we've already taken this oven for a ride around town, maybe we should take it for a ride around Australia?" [This relates to one of our favourite books that is absolutely hilarious: "Round Ireland with a Fridge."] My husband wasn't amused, though I could see him fighting a smile. So I told him - you'll think it's funny tomorrow. But unfortunately, the game that he missed on TV as a result of this detour was the game of the year with suspense to the last second.

So the oven with the dog food stayed in the Jeep overnight, as we continued to assess our mouse's entry ways. Seemed that the gas line going into our oven goes through a 5 inch diameter hole in the floor which was never sealed by the contractor. The mouse came directly from outside into that hole. At this point, since my Sunday was already shot, I started washing the kitchen floor. Then I decided it was time to paint the kitchen wall behind the oven. I had an hour to kill anyway before heading to the movies with my friends.

The following day, my husband found the loophole from the outside - underneath our bay window the contractor did not close the gap in the underside. So my husband foam sprayed the hole in the kitchen and the hole outside, but within a day the foam was all chewed up by our little friend.

The oven was finally taken to the dump on Tuesday (Monday was a federal holiday). It's been a week since I lost my oven. We've been eating outside every day. My husband can't find the right oven for the right price. Last night I dreamt that there was a brand new oven in place. I had a very rude awakening realising I can't cook eggs for breakfast.

As for the mouse - I'm afraid he's dead. Gone. As I was talking on the phone to a friend on Friday, enjoying a nice conversation, my husband walked triumphantly upstairs holding a mouse trap with a mouse hanging off it. It was a darn cute mouse! I just hope he had a good life with our dog’s food and the warm insulation in our oven.

Advice for the wise: Do not try cooking dog food at home!

Seen on another blog

A comment "borrowed" from Zombieslayer's blog, made by anonymous:


as the cop unzipped his pants, the lady said "Oh no, not the breathalizer again."

The Big Vacation Plan

I grew up to a culture of traveling around the world. My parents would take a long vacation once a year and go somewhere outside of Israel. I don't know how many countries they've been to, but if I count those that I recall I reach over 30 countries (with some repetitive visits to their favourite). It's all true about the wandering Jew. When my parents plan a vacation it starts immediately upon return from their last vacation. For the next 11 months they will research, read books, talk to friends, and talk to travel agents, and create a detailed itinerary. When I say "detailed" I mean "the day planned to the hour and kilometers driven per day." They're the masters of planning vacations. They book hotels way ahead of going on vacation and they announce their arrival to friends and family in other countries down to the hour and bar/restaurant. I feel really lucky to have grown up with them and joined them on several trips. Their vacations entailed a couple of museums/galleries a day, a couple of castles per week, and a serious immersion in impressive architecture and historical landmarks.

With my husband being a Navy brat along with his many years of service in the Navy, he's had a similar exposure to travelling the world, though he didn't experience the travelling hundred of kilometers per vacation. So I introduced him to the culture. Our first major vacation was around Ireland in 2 weeks. Then we circled Scotland in 10 days. Then we did cross countried from Montana to Maryland in four days. In between we had several 2 weeks around Israel (and Jordan one time). So we did enough training for The Big One!

We're going to Australia!!!

But first, I'm flying to London (alone), where I will meet with my parents who are flying from Israel. We'll spend five days in London together (a very early birthday present for my mom's 70th birthday). Then, after five days, I'll be flying to Sydney, Australia. My husband will join me two days later (arriving eight hours after my birthday), and we will spend the next three weeks traveling through Australia.

I've never been to London. In all my trips around the world, I never got a chance to go there. So this is my first. My parents lived there three years before I was born, and have travelled there several times since. This was my chance to see the place that's mentioned in many books, articles, news and conversations with friends. So I bought a travel book about London and spent last weekend creating the itinerary for my vacation in London.

Took me a day and a half to research all the places of interests, maps, prices, special deals, opening hours, distance from each other, subway deals, Travelcard, London Pass, you name it. After a day and a half I had a nice itinerary with three or four places of interest to visit every day, including websites, prices and ideal times to visit. I must say that researching London's places of interest was quite enjoyable since it's all geared towards tourists. Every website conveniently places the "Visit Us" button in a prominent place on the page, and once clicking on it you get the prices, hours, and any other pertinent information. With all this information, trying to figure out a schedule that ensures that every FREE option is arranged on the correct date, was quite tricky. I ended up giving up one free entrance to a museum for the sake of watching the Change of Guards at Buckingham palace. It better be worth it!

I'm particularly excited about a surprise I'm planning for my mom. I bought tickets for a show. I bought it a while ago. When I asked her last week what places in London she'd like to see, she mentioned wanting to go see a show. I immediately dismissed her and said I'm not interested in going to any shows. She seemed disappointed and said okay. On the day I arrive I plan on giving her the early birthday card with the tickets to the show in it. The funny thing is that I found out after my parents had already booked a hotel for our stay, that the theatre is right next door to the hotel!!! This is really convenient because the show is the night before I leave for Sydney and they leave back to Israel.

One more week. I'm SO excited!

Todah La'el hayom yom shishi!

The Third to Sixth Drink and the number 13

The first was a Blow Job.
The second was a Screwdriver.
The third was Kangaroo Love.

In anticipation of an awesome vacation coming up real soon!

The fourth (Pinot Grigio), fifth (White Zinfandel) and sixth (Appletini) drinks were in celebration of my 13th Anniversary. To clarify any misunderstanding, I'm in the phase of TASTING drinks, not drinking whole cups. At the end of our dinner, as my husband sums up the evening, he says, "I'm SO glad I only ordered "1" cup of wine!" Yes, he had to finish all the cups that our waitress had me taste.

My conclusion from the coughing fits after drinking the wines - I must be allergic or something. I felt bad for the waitress who tried so hard to suggest and recommend alcoholic drinks. I tried to apologise and explain that I had never touched alcohol before and only recently began tasting them. At the end of dinner she came to our table and asked my husband if he'd like any coffee, then she looks at me, and I had this apologetic look and said in a low voice, "I'm sorry, I don't drink coffee either." She came closer and whispered to me, "do you have ANY vices?!"


Our anniversary celebration was fantastic! In a beautiful restuarant, with a nice sunset and a beautiful view from our dinner table.

I have an Anniversary tradition where every year I ask my husband, "Would you have married me, knowing what you know today?" And every year, my husband answers with "No way!" Of course, on the first anniversary I was a bit concerned about his reply, by the 13th anniversary, our conversation came to this:

Mybrid: "Can I ask you a question?"

Mybrid's husband [after a brief hesitation and with a smirk on his face]: "NO WAY!"

But then came the surprise of my life. After half a minute of silenced smiles, he looked at me and said, "I'm still in love with you." I think my heart lost a beat, because he has NEVER said that to me before. He didn't give me a chance to recover from this proclamation when he continued to shock me with "and I still haven't found anyone I'd switch you with. Among all the women I've met and know today, you're still the one."

After 13 years, romance still lives. In Judaism the number 13 is a good and lucky number as it represents love and care. Maybe it wasn't a coincidence that our 13th anniversary fell on the week of Friday the 13th...

BELATED HAPPY NEW YEAR 2006 !

As you already learned Channukah started on Christmas Day. This meant that Channukah ended on New Year's Day. Unfortunately for my new year resolution, I had caught a cold on Christmas. This time it was far more aggressive than the Thanksgiving cold that for the second time in my life I had to go see a doctor about it. The doctor prescribed me antibiotics (YUCK!), cough medicine, and some decongestant. This meant that my plan to drink alcohol on New Year's Eve was shot to hell.

New Year's Eve was celebrated as every year at my best friend's house. I could probably write a long post about past parties and how much fun we always have there, but for the sake of catching up on my posts I won't go into detail.

This year the highlight were the special stickers that everyone could put on their cups of drinks so no one would mistake their drink once they've had a few martinis. So here's my husband's creativity at its best (or worst...).

This is his cup...














This is what he did to my Fanta bottle...

And these are samples of other cups, including our hostess...

For those of you who're wondering what was our other form of entertainment, here he is - our New Year Jello Shooters Juggler! I wish I could figure out how to upload a video to this blog, because the video is quite funny as he takes a swig out of each shooter cup while he juggles the other two.

Some people are just blessed with talent!

THE COUGH MEDICINE
This is for those among you who know Hebrew. I picked up my prescription medication at the pharmacy and sat down to have dinner, when I noticed my cough medicine bottle. Needless to say that the label got me into such coughing fits that it resolved my coughing for the rest of the evening.

For those who don't know Hebrew: Ben Zona means ...Son of a Bitch in Hebrew.

The following day after New Year's eve celebration, I spent the day cleaning the entire house and cooking in anticipation of yet another party - last day of Channukah! This time with 14 guests. By 10:30pm I was beat, but felt pretty good for having spent the first day of the year cleaning the entire house.

It was all worth it if only for this photo:

On the right side you'll notice the traditional Latkes (potato pancakes deep fried), on the far right is the traditional Channukah cookies, in the middle Israeli vegetable salad, on the left Koogle. Not pictured: Doughnuts, crackers, cheese, olives, pickles and of course, the guests. This is a typical Channukah celebration in an Israeli home - for those wondering what it's all about.

Also missing from the photo - dreydls, games, music and the fun had by all.

HAPPY NEW YEAR TO EVERYONE!

Eid Al Adha

As you will recall this year seems to match every Jewish holiday with either a Muslim or Christian holiday this year.

It started out with Ramadan starting with Rosh Hashanna. So while the Jews ate and celebrated the new year, the Muslims were refraining from food and fasting. Then came Channukah and Christmas (I find it odd that these matching holidays start with the same letter) - the two major eating holidays for Christians and Jews.

So it's kind of ironic that today when the Muslims are eating and celebrating Eid al Adha, the Jews are fasting and mourning the siege of Jerusalem (The Fast of 10th of Tevet).

To my Muslim friends around the world I wish you all Eid Mubarak!

Forgiving

Forgiving is not one of my qualities. There's something about growing up in the shaddow of Holocaust survivors that doesn't let you forgive anyone. I'm an expert at carrying a grudge, not forgiving, not apologising and never forgetting. Maybe this is part of growing up secular with no religious guidance that instructs me to forgive nor to apologise.

Somewhere I'd like to think that part of the process of growing up means learning to forgive. Maybe I don't have to forget, but I should still learn to forgive.

Everyone has been following the news about our Israeli prime minister in a coma at the hospital. For the first couple of days I wasn't sad. I guess some people expect me to say I was even ashamed to be happy about it. I'm not ashamed. Nor am I alone. Many of us Israelis cannot forgive him for his actions. Some of us will not forgive him for Lebanon 25 years ago and for sending thousands of our young soldiers to their deaths by lying to the Prime Minister at the time. Some of us will not forgive him for pulling out of Gaza and for destroying the lives of so many Jewish settlers.

I fall into the first category - those who cannot forget Lebanon. Lebanon was the war of my brother's generation. The war that took my brother's best friend. The war that took the brothers of my best friends. The war that had the largest impact on my generation.

Sharon never apologised for it. He did not apologise for the results of his actions.

But his actions twenty years later became an apology to many Israelis. He went against his party's political line and realised that the only solution is two states for two nations. He was couragious enough to stand against his party and pull out of the Gaza strip. Many Israelis forgave him for Lebanon after he pulled out of Gaza. My mother among them.

My last conversation with my mother this week wasn't easy for me. We don't discuss politics very often (because we always agree). But this time we hit a disagreement. Here I was - not willing to forgive Ariel Sharon for Lebanon, and there was my mom, a holocaust survivor and someone who stood by all her best friends as they lost their sons to Israel's wars - forgiving him for Lebanon.

I ended up questioning my own thinking, and for the second time in my life decided to listen to my mother's wisdom and accept it. Of course I will never admit this to her (because I cannot bear the thought of apologising), but I will admit it here in public.

I was wrong to rejoice on Sharon's fall. He made a mistake, but did so under his beliefs that he was right. I cannot expect him to apologise for Lebanon. But he realised the mistake of his party line and redeemed himself by pulling out of Gaza.

I may not agree with his methods, I may not forget his mistakes - but I do respect him for realising his party was wrong and for doing something about it. My biggest hope is that whoever comes after him will continue his path for establishing a Palestinian state and giving peace a chance.

P.S. I hope Sharon pulls out of this, even if only to annoy the hell out of the asshole in Iran .

HO HO OY!

For the first time in over 40 years Christmas Day and first day of Channukah coincided this past year. Unfortunately, it sent the wrong message to some of the non-Jews in thinking that Channukah is a major Jewish holiday. So let me clarify once and for all:

Channukah is NOT an important Jewish holiday!!!
Rosh Hashanna, Yom Kippur, and Passover are important Jewish holidays!

We spent Christmas with my family-in-law (which probably deserves an entire blog right there). In the spirit of the holiday I decided to spend some considerable time teaching my husband's nephews and nieces (oh, about 10 of them under the age of 6) about Channukah. So I bought books for kids, Channukah candles, dreydles, paint, clay, CD's, latkes and cookies materials.

We spent Christmas Eve looking for drift wood on the sandy shores of Virginia Beach, so we can build our own Channukiyah with it. We ended up collecting a hundred seashells instead. The original plan was to use the 36 bottle caps I've been collecting for a week to paste into a piece of wood (nine per piece of wood, for each kid that was going to be there Christmas Eve). The final execution involved four Channukiyot with bottle caps and three with seashells. And one heck of an exhausted Jew, trying to maintain calm and patience with three five year olds, one three year old and one toddler who decided to learn how to walk right where we were trying to paint the wood.

Thankfully, no serious damage was done, and our artistic attempts came out pretty satisfactory considering the ages of the kids. Then came the extended family. Right on time to make the dreydels out of clay.

I had no idea how difficult it is to teach kids to create a cube from clay until that day. Next time, I'll skip a few steps, and just give them something to paint on the finished product. But then again maybe next time they'll grow up a year older and will be more capable?

Somewhere inside me I'm thinking maybe I'm not fit to be a parent just yet.

Which is just fine because neither is my husband. We took our three-year-old godson (my husband's nephew) to get a haircut and shop for ingredients for my Channukah dinner. We gave up on the haircut when it turned out to be 1.5 hours to wait. So we went shopping instead. Then on the way home, my husband tried to be a role model to his nephew and runs a red light. When the police pulled us over, our godson kept asking, "Why did the police stop us?...What did we do wrong?" I think the policeman took pity on us when he heard all those questions. We got off with a verbal warning. Thank dog for little kids who aren't ours!

Chrismukah itself was just great. My attempts to teach the kids about Channukah immediately after opening Christmas presents was as successful as one would expect considering the confusion we've put these poor kids into. We finished eating the traditional Christmas dinner and went straight to the Channukah lighting of the Menorah (which is really called Channukiya!) and the eating of the latkes and cookies. By the end of all this, everyone was educated enough about Jesus playing dreydel on Christmas and the miracle of the oil that Jesus celebrates to this day. Santa makes Channukiyot for little kids and Antiochus is just a name that's difficult to pronounce if you're older than six.

A great time was had by all. Can't wait for next year's Chrismukah celebration.

I love 2006!

This has been the best first week of a year I've ever been through. 2006 is looking awesome! So far every day this year has brought me good news or good things. I sure hope this is a sign of things to come.

And I haven't even made any New Year Resolutions yet (who has time for this cr@p anyway?!). Well, that's a slight lie. I did decide to try alcoholic drinks this year. For my first alcoholic drink in my life I got a Blow Job, for my second one (two days ago) I got Screwedriver. And tonight I've been invited out to drink, yet again!

Some people make new year resolutions at my age to quit drinking, while once again I find myself going against the fashion trends and standing against the popular choice of the year.

Here's to being a rebel at 36.92!

Todah La'el Hayom Yom Shishi!

When not to blog

So this is a discourse on why they should not allow perfectionists to start a blog.

For over two weeks I've been meaning to post. First it was something that says Happy Christmas, Happy Channukah, Merry New Year. Then I wanted to post about my Chrismukah celebration in ..."Yes, Virginia, there is a yarmul-klaus." [For photographs of Yarmulkes click here, for a scholarly explanation of what a Yarmulke is click here. For the R rated Yarmulkebras click here. Then I wanted to explain on my blog what Channukah is all about (but that would give credence to the importance of this meaningless holiday). Then I wanted to wish everyone a safe and Happy New Year. Then I wanted to tell everyone about the two parties I had to attend this weekend. Then I wanted to tell everyone about the visit to my aging relatives in D.C. Then I wanted to go into another one of my serious discourses on friendships. Then I wanted to tell everyone about my six hours online in search of the best price for a flight to a far away country (details to follow). Then I wanted to tell everyone about what I got for Channukah. Then I wanted to tell everyone about my latest cold/bronchitis/flu/shoot-me-now illness. Oh, and let's not forget the post I've been meaning to write about my surgery (how could I forget).

But here's the problem - I'm a perfectionist.

If I cannot spend an hour or two writing a perfect post with no grammar mistakes, no typos, no spelling errors, no logical problems with sequence of events, and posts filled with humour, observant revelations, interesting anecdotes or serious shit - then forget it, I'd rather not write at that moment.

Those who follow this blog will cleverly observe that obviously I've let down some of my standards of perfectionism for the sake of posting. Humour probably suffering the most.

It's not really a problem of being a perfectionist as much as being a narcoleptic perfectionist. Every time I even think of doing something perfect, I fall asleep. For years I thought it was a sudden attack of depression. But I've recently come to the realization that perfectionism simply exhausts me. (This revelation came to me about an hour ago).

So for the sake of perfectionism and exhaustion - you don't get to hear my post of Ho Ho Oy, 'til I recover from this ailment. Sorry to disappoint those who were looking for a good mix of Chrismukah last week.

Coming up...

It's not that I have nothing to write about, but rather that there's TOO much to write about. So please stick around, and hopefully sometime today there'll be at least one post about this past week or so that I missed.

First post will be called "HO HO OY!" and will of course talk about the celebrations of Chrismukah.