Midnight Witticisms

So, I came back to Jerusalem from moving into Tel Aviv.  As I was approaching my apartment, the Creepy Guy Who Steals Internet was sitting on the bench, and said, “Hey, some sort of creature just walked by and turned the corner, did you see it?” I responded in the negative, and went to check it out. There was nothing there, so I walked back around, and informed him that there was nothing there.  He looked relieved, got up off of the bench, and started walking back to his apartment.

And I wanted to be like, are you kidding me?  I am five foot two, one hundred and thirty pounds.  You are six foot three, and two hundred and something pounds.  And you need me to make sure there is no bogey monster?

These religious guys…I’m telling you…

I never actually wrote about the Jerusalem snow experience.  Essentially, we received a grand total of three and a half inches over two days.  The city was absolutely shut down - there were no busses, the market was closed, and I couldn’t take my in-heat cat to the clinic.  By the the second evening, a good portion of the snow had melted.  As Joel and I made our way to the gym (still open in the blizzard!!), we saw countless Israeli youths in a snowball fight.  As a New Yorker, and expecially having done a stint in Buffalo, the aforementioned snowball fight was pitiful.  There were few “mounds” of snow, the majority of it having disappeared already.  Rule #1 about snowball fights - you need to be able to duck and slide in abundant snow.  Otherwise it is worthless.  Oh, and for the record, I came to Israel in order to avoid the snow, not have 3.5 inches of it wreak havoc in my life for two days.

I went to Mike’s Place (a local American-esque bar) to watch the Super Bowl last night (wooo New York!).  It was thoroughly enjoyable.  Minus the fact that we were sitting in a room full of stereotypical American Jews.  My favorite were our barmates - religious bachurs from Far Rockaway.  Who got drunk.  Who at every commercial would say “What is ths?  Are you serious??”  No, this isn’t serious.  Obviously a dog can’t train a horse - it’s a commercial. Oh, and also, stop yelling at Pats fans to “get the hell out of the bar”.  Actually, stop yelling; you sound slightly nasal and I can’t stand the way you tawk (yes, I am aware that this is slightly hypocritical).  Then they leaned over and started asking about what I was drinking (Is it good?  Do you recommend?  What does it taste like?  Oh, sure I’ll taste).  And I’m pretty sure one of them made a sex joke.  It was interesting.

Moving on.  I’m currently sitting in a cafe, working (clearly not) and listening to Boston radio, as all of New England mourns the passing of the Perfect Season.  I’m waiting to hear about Bella, who is getting a kitty-making-equipment-ectomy (spayed).  Hopefully she’ll be OK.  I’ll keep everyone posted.  Pray for her so that she doesn’t die.  Hopefully I’ll hear something soon, because I’m getting a little antsy in my pantsy.

Well, back to work for me!