Overeating on the Sabbath is my weakness. This is the only day I eat sweets and plenty of it. I say I buy it for the kids, but that's not totally true. I had an even greater excuse to buy more junk as my daughter and Hubby were here for the weekend. My fridge is stuffed with good food, but there are also two cakes, 3 packages of chips/nachos, ice cream, pistachios and one bag of healthy Terra blue potato chips recently imported from the US. It used to be when the kids were younger, I would have to lock up the snacks because they would eat them all up Friday evening like starving locusts and there'd be nothing left for Saturday. But this morning I looked in the fridge and everything was unlocked and intact.
I feel terribly bloated today and perused my macriobiotic self-healing books that make me depressed while reading about their cleansing diet.
"For 3-7 days eat bland foods including grains, soups, have no protein, just cooked vegetables and tamari sauce"
Ugh. Has it boiled down to this?
A reader of this blog sent me an email about the fact that bad foods may have contributed to the conflict in this region. And that good foods may eventually heal it. My macrobiotic friends certainly think so.
I remember spending a weekend with a Moslem family in M'ghar in the Galilee. I sipped endless amounts of coffee - maybe even 12 cups in one day. Who can resist that alluring Arabic coffee spiced with hel (cardamom)? I can't.
And coffee makes you have heart palpatations and get nervous.
Are Jewish Israelis any better? They're into their fried kubeh, falafel and chips. Terrible for the stomach. They don't drink as much coffee as their Arabic cousins, but coffee shops are full.
Do you think if we cut out the fried foods and the coffee and stick to traditional mint tea and mejedderah - can we be better friends?
Saturday, August 26, 2006
Food for Thought
Friday, August 25, 2006
Tel Aviv Beach Party
It was so miserably hot in Jerusalem this week, that I wonder how people manage in coastal cities like Tel Aviv, Haifa, etc. But the lure of the beach in the evening and a free movie on a big screen was enough to drag me out there last night.
Ahhh Tel Aviv. For Jerusalemites going to Tel Aviv, think that it's something like someone from an historic, beautiful and cultured smallish city in the US visiting big, bad and wonderful NYC - the city that never sleeps. Tel Aviv for me = towering buildings, seedy peep shows near the central bus station, beachfront hotels, beach promenade, looser people, clubs opening up at 11:00 pm instead of closing shortly afterwards, night life, night life, night life.
I've been putting off going to Tel Aviv, even though it's just an hour away, for a year. I don't know why. Once I'm there, I don't know why it takes me a year to get there. I'm always in awe of it when I visit. I should be enjoying this city more - if not once a month, then once every other month.
I went with my oldest married daughter and the ex-Criminal who was allowed on an outing with her mom. My eldest quibbled and bitched like an old married woman on the way there.
"I shouldn't really be going. I really should be cleaning our room. I should be doing laundry. I should be shopping."
Sheesh, lady. You've been married 2 months and you're an old fuddy duddy already. Shut the fuck up!
We got out of our cab and in our short walk to the beach, the humidity hit us Jerusalemites immediately. Our hair began to frizz and curl, which looked great on me, but caused my Eldest to complain even more. Meanwhile, a cute stranger on a bike flirted with my Eldest while on the Promenade. People are so much chattier to strangers here. But I stopped his chit-chat with a stare that said "DO NOT TALK TO BITCHY ELDEST DAUGHTER. SHE IS TAKEN!" He got the hint and biked off.
We checked our bags at a special security booth to go onto Banana Beach,where they were showing the movie King Kong. Nothing like seeing a giant ape on a giant screen, with a crowd of noisy Israelis. We munched on everything they sold on the beach - beer, iced coffee, grapes, popcorn, hot dogs and my Eldest even stopped complaining about the sand getting into her handbag and her clothes. I, on the other hand, slunk my feet deep into the cool sand.
It was 11:00 at night and the movie stopped for a 2nd intermission - just as the big ape cradled his blonde honey in the palm of his hand. It was touching. But if we waited until the end, there would have been no more buses back to Jerusalem and I don't know a soul in Tel Aviv where I could crash with my 2 kids for the night - not that they wanted to sleep over, but it would have been simpler. So I reluctantly pulled my feet out of that delicious sand to go back to Jerusalem.
We knew the ending anyways - they kill the Ape, who terrified most people, except for the blonde chick, and somehow I wished the story could have been changed somehow. But I don't know how that could have been. Because, after all, he was just so friggin' huge (and different). And that usually frightens us all, doesn't it.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Peace Stuff next week
Figure I go back to work next week and miss the Sulha Bus which will travel to Arab and Jewish villages in the Galilee and will camp out in the Arab village of Tu'ran.
My daughters were invited to Italy to attend a peace camp. They're hemming and hawing - and can't make up their minds whether they want to be involved. Stupid kids. Maybe I'll have better luck with my grandchildren.
Anyway, there were kids this summer who were intelligent enough to participate in this type of camp (thanks to Klara for the link).
summer holiday - week 2
"Wanna have one last fuck?" asked Hubby yesterday morning, in all seriousness, as he read the papers where the Iranian president had threatened to usher in the Islamic messiah today and wreak havoc on the world...
Never one to believe the end is near, I got dressed and met my German friend who was in Israel for a week. She is an interesting character. A young devout Catholic sister in a community of hippie-type religious Catholics of a strange order that wear green most of the time. She looks like she stepped out of a medieval Christian painting. She introduced herself to me a few years back on her first trip because she wanted to "apologize for what Germans did to the Jews". She is also a singer, singing with a duo of Christian Arabs in Nazareth and was practicing with them this week. It was nice to get back in touch, and we caught up on lots over High Tea and scones at Chez Gita's in Jerusalem.
Later that evening I wanted to run off to Tel Aviv to see the movies on the beach, but Hubby talked me out of it, because of the heat wave. It looks like October is probably a better bet for running off to Tel Aviv. The humidity there must be awful right now. Jerusalem is hot enough.
Yesterday I treated myself to a macrobiotic day at a friend's home in Mevo Betar (Cooperative moshav, smallholder settlement, 10 km. southwest of Jerusalem; established 1950 by Herut). I took the special buses from Jerusalem to a nearby ultra-Orthodox settlement where the women sit in the back (I felt so early-1960's deep South Black) and the men in the front. I had wrapped a skirt over my pants, not wanting to offend the modest-conscious people on the bus. She picked me up there to take me to her place. We passed a bunch of Arab kids at the entrance to the settlement selling figs. I gave them a couple of shekels and they thrust their entire stock of home-grown figs at me inside the car. I love figs, but I took only three.
"That was so nice of you. Why did you do it?"
"Better I give them charity than Hamas or Hezbollah. I'm in stiff competition with these groups, you know. I wish more Jews would give these kids' families charity or buy figs from them. This way they wouldn't need to turn to those terrorist groups who support these poor families, give the kids hot lunches and an education of hate."
I was feeling under the weather, as the heat wave persisted. We started out with a breakfast of miso soup and crepes (whole-wheat) with homemade fruit filling, pickled rutabaga and I took down some interesting books to read from their shelves on Past Lives in between courses. I did have a ginger compress treatment, which seemed to heal my aching, stiff neck.
"Is this going to be really uncomfortable?" I asked, as I saw her heating wet towels in boiling water.
"Don't worry. It's not Chinese torture." she looked at me. "It's Japanese torture!"
We laughed, as she put the boiling hot ginger soaked towels on my stomach, neck and kidney areas. It's probably more normal to get this type of treatment in cooler weather, but hey - this was my vacation time.
There were more healthy snacks and drinks, Shinto Buddhist chanting, and a long 1 hour hike through their beautiful Moshav before stuffing myself on a full multi-course dinner. Monster homes next to dingy homes built in the 1950s. Abandoned campgrounds. Beautiful gardens. I'm sorry I didn't take along my camera to capture the visuals, but it is a lovely area 15 minutes from Jerusalem.
Friday, August 18, 2006
look who's bloggin'
Well, won't I eat my camel's fleas. Is this for real or not? I can't really tell. But anyone care to leave a comment on his site? (for English - click on one of the little flags on the right side. The second flag from the left.)
What I do on my summer vacation
I'm ending my first week of summer vacation. One more week to go and I want it to be more eventful than my first which was an unorganized mish-mash of things listed on my To Do list - most of which I never got to do.
I never did get to sleep in. On Thursday morning, before dawn, and on my day off I should not hear ANYTHING before dawn, it's a damn sin - I hear Hubby cursing and banging things in the kitchen with yells of "FUCK" "DAMN" and I heard brooms zooming across the floor and thought 'hey, he's playing a great game of floor hockey at 4:00 am, but with whom?' Finally, after the cussing and banging wouldn't stop, I got up from bed.
"What the hell is going on there?"
"DON'T COME OUT OF YOUR ROOM. I'M TRYING TO CATCH A BEE."
It must have been one giant muthafucka bee because I heard it buzzing beyond the door, and I didn't dare venture out of my safe room.
A few more minutes of broom swishing and then the front door banged shut. The bee had left the building. Thank God. Now that made me hate bees more than ever, having my vacation slumber disturbed by those annoying and scary and stinging pests.
I never got to Tel Aviv yet. I've never been inside Azrielli towers. I never got to go to the beach yet. I didn't get to go to Mini Israel yet. And there's a Bat Yam Beach festival next week. There's free movies on Banana Beach in Tel Aviv next week. There are soccer players that my son wants to meet during practice. There's a real Romanian band playing gypsy music at the Khan Theater on Wednesday night. There's even my living room floor that I want to take time to wax and make it shine so that Hubby believes I'm doing substantial stuff during my time off work.
But I did go on the double-decker tour bus of Jerusalem along with other fake tourists. My son thought they'd throw us off the bus if they'd realize we're not really tourists.
"No honey. That's not how the world works. It works on money. They'll charge you an absolute fortune to get on that bus. 10 times the price of a regular bus. Then you pay that fee and they'll never think of throwing you off the bus. Kapish?"
"Hey - even Nasrallah and his wife can go on this bus (if they pay, of course) - there's an Arabic translation among the 8 languages outfitted for earphones."
And today, we had a lovely organic breakfast over at Tavlin (spices) Restaurant in the pastoral moshav of Eshtaol overlooking the fields of planted spices and the country homes.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
No Sulha
I just found out yesterday that the Sulha which was planned for August 22 and 23rd was cancelled. I am so disappointed. It seems that the Arab Sulha staff are just too piping hot mad about the war in Lebanon and do not feel it is the right time now to meet with the Other. I, on the other hand, feel it is the perfect time to meet. Right after a conflict. After all, we could be just as angry. We've had civilian hits too from Katyushas and plenty of them.
I am also heartbroken by this because I feel that this conflict set grassroots peace movements back to below zero. I had felt, up until then, that we were somewhere close to midpoint. Now we have to begin all over again and build trust and friendships from the start. What a disaster.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Summer Holiday
I've got two weeks "forced" vacation from work. The office is closed and I'm bouncing around town, feeling lazy at home, not wanting to do anything on my To Do list. I'm wanting to take in some touristy things like going on the double-decker tour bus of Jerusalem with my son, but instead I've been running around doing yicky stuff like taking him to the dentist and orthodontist for future braces. He wants yellow and black braces - the color of the Jerusalem soccer team. Yuck.
But I did manage to go to the Hutzot Hayotzer arts and crafts fair in Jerusalem, which was absolutely lovely.
My daughter came by to give us our copy of her wedding album and dvd's which took 2 months in the making. I tried putting the disk on my computer and it wouldn't work. The color is better on my computer than on my TV which shows everything in red. Color tubes are expensive. The natives were getting restless while the computer was "searching" the disk.
"Ma! Don't you know how to run this on your computer?" the kids asked.
"No. But she knows how to hold a plateful of food" remarked Hubby.
Yes, and I also know how to throw same plateful of food over Hubby's head too, but I held back. Yes I did.
Sunday, August 13, 2006
cruise conversations
I had a very interesting conversation, in my many hours of leisure on this cruise, with a middle-aged man who is a Lebanese Jew. His grandfather was born in Beirut, so he is Lebanese through and through. He had his insights on the Lebanese/Israeli conflict.
I asked him "Why couldn't the Lebanese government open up their borders to Israel like Egypt and Jordan did? Why did they have to have Hezbollah in their country. Why couldn't they just shoo them out of Lebanon?"
He said - "You see, Lebanon is like a virgin girl when it comes to peace with Israel. They want it, but they don't want, they want it, but they're afraid of having it, if they're relatives find out, they'll kill her..."
He was telling us that we don't know "the Middle East mentality" and tried to explain it in various parables and stories.
One story was that he, his grandfather and father were walking in the Jerusalem area of Talpiot. They began small-talk with an Arab family in Arabic and were very cordial and friendly to each other. As soon as they left each other, his grandfather and father began to curse those Arabs under their breath, and he began to laugh.
"Why are you laughing" asked grandad.
"Because that's EXACTLY what they're doing right now about us!"
He described former prime minister Sharon's dealing with the Gaza disengagement action as rushed as a little boy needing to pee.
"Instead of focusing on Hizbollah in Lebanon, who is the real enemy of Israel, they trained our soldiers in how to take Jews from their homes - believing that the Arabs will absolutely love us after we do this. And the Wall was the worst thing the government could have done because now more will hate us and it will bring in more fanatic nationalism of theirs. The Israeli government should have spent the money instead on building hospitals in Gaza City."
I certainly agreed with him on this matter.
He cautioned me further - "remember that what they say to you is very different from what they say at home" and he continued with his quickie lesson on Middle East culture believing it will also help me with my Tunisian son-in-law.
"Even if you haven't eaten in 3 days and you are starving. You go to someone's home and they will offer you food. You must refuse!! It's the proper thing to do. If they really mean that they want to offer you food, then they'll put the food in front of you even though you said no and INSIST that you eat it 100 times!
And I thought, well, Jeez. My Arab friends must think I'm a total boor, ill bred and all that. I never refuse an offer of food.
colors of friendship
I just got this e-mail:
Once upon a time the colors of the world started to quarrel. All claimed that
they were the best. The most important. The most useful. The most beautiful. The
favorite.
Green said:
"Clearly I am the most important. I am the sign of life and of hope. I was
chosen for grass, trees and leaves. Without me, all animals would die. Look over
the countryside and you will see that I am in the majority."
Blue interrupted:
"You only think about the earth, but consider the sky and the sea. It is the
water that is the basis of life and drawn up by the clouds from the deep sea.
The sky gives space and peace and serenity. Without my peace, you would all be
nothing."
Yellow chuckled:
"You are all so serious. I bring laughter, gaiety, and warmth into the world.
The sun is yellow, the moon is yellow, the stars are yellow. Every time you look
at a sunflower, the whole world starts to smile. Without me there would be no
fun."
Orange started next to blow her trumpet:
"I am the color of health and strength. I may be scarce, but I am precious for I
serve the needs of human life. I carry the most important vitamins. Think of
carrots, pumpkins, oranges, mangoes, and papayas. I don't hang around all the
time, but when I fill the sky at sunrise or sunset, my beauty is so striking
that no one gives another thought to any of you."
Red could stand it no longer he shouted out:
"I am the ruler of all of you. I am blood - life's blood! I am the color of
danger and of bravery. I am willing to fight for a cause. I bring fire into the
blood. Without me, the earth would be as empty as the moon. I am the color of
passion and of love, the red rose, the poinsettia and the poppy."
Purple rose up to his full height:
He was very tall and spoke with great pomp: "I am the color of royalty and
power. Kings, chiefs, and bishops have always chosen me for I am the sign of
authority and wisdom. People do not question me! They listen and obey."
Finally Indigo spoke, much more quietly than all the others, but with just as
much determination: "Think of me. I am the color of silence. You hardly notice
me, but without me you all become superficial. I represent thought and
reflection, twilight and deep water. You need me for balance and contrast, for
prayer and inner peace."
And so the colors went on boasting, each convinced of his or her own
superiority. Their quarreling became louder and louder. Suddenly there was a
startling flash of bright lightening, thunder rolled and boomed. Rain started to
pour down relentlessly. The colors crouched down in fear, drawing close to one
another for comfort.
In the midst of the clamor, rain began to speak:
"You foolish colors, fighting amongst yourselves, each trying to dominate the
rest. Don't you know that you were each made for a special purpose, unique and
different? Join hands with one another and come to me."
Doing as they were told, the colors united and joined
hands.
The rain continued:
"From now on, when it rains, each of you will stretch across the sky in a great
bow of color as a reminder that you can all live in peace. The Rainbow is a sign
of hope for tomorrow." And so, whenever a good rain washes the world, and a
Rainbow appears in the sky, to let us remember to appreciate one another.
author unknown
cruisin'
Hubby and I took a 3 day cruise over the weekend to forget about the war, forget about the kids, forget about the puppy we were fostering and the collection of his poo throughout the house, forget that we have jobs, forget that we have bills, faggedabout everything in fact.
The trip was to Alanya in Turkey and Limassol in Cyprus. It was our first cruise. And if we ever wondered where all the heavy people are in Israel, we found out where they were - right on the cruise with us. Maybe it was the 4 huge meals a day we were served by attentive Egyptian staff but alot of the 800 patrons were, well, big.
It took time to get used to the motion of the ship and I felt like a drunken sailor most of the time, and this was calm water season. I laughed at the spaghetti shaking around at the midnight buffet, recalling my friends telling me years ago about their acid trips where they would eat spaghetti their mother prepared for them and the spaghetti seemed to spin around in their plate. Yup - it was trippy indeed. The first night, I stepped around puke here and there on the deck and in the aisles - but people's stomachs seemed to have calmed down after that first night, praise the Lord. That seemed to make me more ill than the boat's motion.
We got to Turkey which suprised me at its very European look. I thought it would look more Oriental than European. European with mosques. Alanya was lovely and we sipped apple tea and Turkish coffee at a place in the mountains called Dim Cai - which had restaurant seating above a river where kids splashed down from a bridge. I walked around the modern bazaar and bought some Turkish music - Tarkan, Ibrahim Tatlises and an interesting Analolian mix, recommended to me by the cool sales guy in the cd shop. He simply abhorred Tarkan (too teenybop) and Ibrahim wasn't ethnic music (I told him I thought it was ethnic) - so he recommended something he thought was cool - and ethnic. Walking around it was amusing to hear the Turkish shopkeepers call out to us in Hebrew.
The next day we toured Limassol (nothing to see there) and took a bus to a quaint 800 year old winemaking village called Omodos. Others on our ship took a trip to the island of Napa but I wanted to see the sites... I had the local Frappe coffee, which seemed like a coffee milkshake. It's their speciality. And the women were making lace everything - doilies, tissue box covers, tableclothes, whatever. There was no bargaining in Cyprus whatsoever - a bit of a downer after the Turkish bargaining and Israelis do love to get discounts.
And before we knew it, we were heading back home - back to real life. The trip - was absolutely short - but lovely!
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Sisters are doing it for themselves
Not being present at a Tel Aviv demonstration on Saturday because I don't do demonstrations where people chanted Jews and Arabs refuse to be enemies, I was especially pleased to attend a special women's interfaith gathering on Monday evening at Ticho House , a Jerusalem landmark restaurant. We were a group of nearly 30 women, many Moslems and many Jews and a handful of Christians. Our program was "How is each of us coping with the war?". I was very pleased to see a handful of Orthodox Jewish women in attendance as well. They're generally not present at meeting the Other, tending to be more insular.
Of course people's curiosity piqued at the sight of our eclectic group speaking Arabic, Hebrew and English, and even the Arab chef came out to meet some of us, while the waiters were doing double-takes, not knowing what to make of our group. I absolutely love when that happens.
We began with Moslem, Jewish and Christian prayers and each one of us spoke about how the war is affecting us. There was certainly alot of emotion in our short dialogues from the heart - some even speaking as tears ran down their faces.
Many of us spoke about how horrified we are at the irrational violence. One person spoke of how frustrating it was because she knew that both sides are saying the same things - namely, how 'the other side only understands violence - we have to show them we're strong' which only breeds another cycle of violence. Another said that to follow the way of God is not to kill. I spoke about my long-harbored desire to visit Lebanon, feeling it was going to be the next country after Jordan and Egypt to open up its borders to Israelis – unfortunately now its borders are not opened up to me, but to soldiers. I was angered by the fact that Arab towns in the North of Israel had no bomb shelters and no siren warning systems as Jewish towns have, and aimed to start a petition for the Israeli government to build these for them, as they have for others. Many nodded their heads in agreement and we are meeting next week for an "action planning group". Finally. I always thought our meetings were lovely but too passive. Nothing will change with just monthly meetings.
We stated our wishes to God that He should put the right thoughts into Hezbollah and our government - and compassion in the hearts of the leaders of this war. We feel peace cannot happen otherwise.
The leader of our group told everyone that she wanted each one of us to contact someone we would not "normally" socialize with and go to their homes. I applauded her for this because people just go to meetings and real friendships can form better with home visits of people you click with. And you can click with others. A Moslem woman named Adia, whose daughter lives in Haifa, who is in Jerusalem with her mom now, took my number. We had a wonderful conversation about Beirut and she told me how lovely Lebanon was - the Switzerland of the Middle East. She was especially thrilled when my cellphone rang because the ring tone is a well known Arabic tune. She held my phone up for her friends to hear and of course I missed the phone call, but what the hell. She just seemed too happy for me to grab it back from her. I do hope she invites me to her home. I'd love to visit and talk about everything. Like what all mothers and wives can talk about. We'll have what to say, I'm sure.
JSPCA Day
I was feeling rather ditzy the last few days like spraying my underarms with my hair silicone spray instead of deodorant. Then I'm writing out my "to do" list at work and I notice a co-worker staring at my first item which said "buy bag of greens for 30 shekels". She probably thought I was buying a stash of weed or something, when actually it was for kale and collards which are very difficult to come buy. Israelis think kale is for decoration and never heard of collards. Private people sell these healthy greens for the health conscience and since I'm a woman of contradictions, I can easily eat a large bowl chocolates together with brown rice and greens.
But getting back to the subject matter, I ended up trying to do a good deed by fostering a dog for a bit until someone can adopt him. I took him for adoption at the JSPCA mobile adoption day in our city and this one scary big lug of a woman was the first to request him.
"ANI ROTZEH OTO!!!" she bellowed over and over again (I WANT HIM!!). She was staring at him as if he were her next meal. I was frightened and I prayed - please God do NOT let this pooch go to this woman. Fortunately my prayers were answered because she didn't want to pay the $120 or so (the fee for all innoculations and spaying) whatsoever and thought she'd get a freebie from them. But no one else wanted to deal with pups and he is now still in my house. Any takers? 
Saturday, August 05, 2006
Cussing the Tee Vee
I spent most of my evening on Thursday looking at Nasrallah's image on TV while he was threatening Israel again with missiles in Tel Aviv if the IDF attacks Beirut.
"Fuck you, you piece of shit!" I said to him, hoping he'd hear me through the tv glass and throwing a pistachio shell at him.
There I was, Mrs. Peacemaker of Jerusalem, suddenly hurling more "F" words at him than Hezbullah's missiles being flung at us daily.
Has it boiled down to this for me?
I'm actually royally pissed off at him and his cronies for fucking up all my plans to visit Beirut one day and take a lovely drive through their once-lovely country and take in some seaside cafes. I'm not the only one who had that vision. But that seems so far off now by light years.
And it seems like it will never end. Each side waiting for the other to be the first one to stop. Well none of them want to be the first. And if they do stop, and Hezbollah does not change its ideology, which it won't, otherwise they won't be called Hezbollah, my fear is that they will only re-arm and re-group and make a stronger attack against us next time. And other similar groups like them might see how difficult it was for the IDF to "smash" them and may join in the conflict to "liberate" the country from us Jews. So what can we really do? It's like if I could ever come face-to-face with a Genie, one of my wishes would be that every militant Islamist be turned into a peace-loving, whirling dervish Sufi. But Genies are hard to find....
Thursday, August 03, 2006
To fast or not to fast
It's already 10 am, and not a stitch of water or food has gone into my mouth since last night. I'm a terrible faster and feel terribly thirsty. It's hot here and thank the Good Lord that I have air conditioning which isn't on at the moment, but at the flick of a switch it could be. I don't know if I'll last the full day - maybe yes or maybe no.
I'm a pick and choose Jew. Lots of options to choose from for fasting on Tisha B'av (9th of Av).
Orthodox - 25 hour fast
Conservative - half day fasting - they feel that we have a State, therefore, there is no real need to fast fully because of the Temple's destruction
Reform - no fasting
Me - depends on the year. Sometimes I feel because there is no peace in the region I must fast for peace. I must fast for the Lebanese/Israeli war to end. I must fast for Hizbollah to stop throwing rockets on us and give us back our kidnapped soldiers. The war would end in a second if they did just that. I must fast because my brother's newly married kid just got called up to fight in Lebanon, and his wife is besides herself with worry. Another one of his kids is being called up on Monday - so even as much as I want to ignore this war, I can't. It's too close to home now.
There was a Women in Green walk around the walls of Jerusalem last night - which even my Fox-News-Addict-Hubby said was too right-wing for him to participate in, and then there was this interesting thing called Dveikus which is a group that meets monthly or weekly and they cry and scream together. I'd love to just check it out. But I'd probably end up laughing looking at everyone doing their thing instead of crying and screaming. This is some sort of Jewish healing therapy, which they claim gets prayers answered and opens up the heart. I can kind of understand it, but picture a whole bunch of Jews getting together crying and screaming in a room about whatever it is they want to cry and scream about and it seems more amusing to me than anything. But I'm sure "letting it all out" is healthy and empowering in a way. Sorta like Primal Scream therapy which John Lennon and Yoko were into in the 70s.
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
Nine Days
I've been busy trying to ignore a war that's going on while Hubby does just the opposite, sitting at home glued to Fox News.
"they're pro-Israel" he says to me - because that's true and they are truly in the minority. I'm silently glad someone is pro-Israel. Even though I'm against war at the same time. We all certainly know Mel Gibson ain't pro-Israel, but I have my own secret wish for him - that his children marry ultra-orthodox Jews. Mwaaa haa haa.
How does one forget the ills of her country. I went and got a pedicure on Sunday. I hadn't had one in nearly a year. This is very contrary to all the millions of rabbinic laws that they put on us for the 9 days of mourning before the fast of the 9th of Av on Thursday - the only other 25 hour fast besides Yom Kippur. One shouldn't bathe (I do - it's too hot not to), cut hair (I don't), eat meat (I don't), do laundry (I do), listen to music (I don't), go to the movies (only watch videos) until the fast is over. But my feet were bothering me and I needed a bit of pampering. Anyway, this woman who does my feet is Mrs. Barbie Doll. Her place is all done up in pink puffy pillows and rugs and furniture. You gotta see it to believe it. Next time I go, I'll photograph it. She has the biggest boobs, natural ones, that put Pamela Anderson's to shame. And she toned down her hair to a nice ash blonde instead of the yellow shade she had last year.
"Wow! It's great! Where did you do it?"
It seems that everything she does, I want to do.
She had her laser surgery on her eyes and loves being able to see first thing in the morning. She simply raves about it.
"Wow! That's great" I gushed. "Where did you do it?"
Then she had taken a cruise last year, which I booked for Hubby and me for sometime this summer. The same cruise line she had taken.
"It's great! You'll love it" she gushed just like Barbie would do. And she didn't seem to mind that I wanted the same cruise, the same hair color, the same eye surgery and definitely the same boobs as she has.