life, and a little bit more

I'm gonna shower. Be right back.

Playing music tonight with my friend Jared. We wrote this song, ill post lyrics soon once I write them..its a song that induces this feeling of honesty, in what I'm writing, and magically carries across to the listener. very ani difranco. i don't know. when we get together and jam its inspiring...i walk out of there thinking 'damn, we could make something out of this', forget about it for a week, comeback, do it all over again. we set plans to actually get down and try and make something out of this..keep you posted loves.

i designed my company's e-newsletter. it took me a few days. lately im this machine, kranking shit out to an almost workaholic level. ive been making logos, letterheads, the newsletters, heavy marketing shit thats leading me to think that this job is making more sense in the long run, that i am experiencing and doing things i didn't think possible beforehand...sometimes we only see the good long after we sign up for something.

ive been struggling with this question as of late: whether having too much freedom in a workplace is a good thing. i mean, the opposite extreme is godawful--having a boss breathing down your neck, his breath like onions, hovering over your shoulder watching your every step move twitch. but at the other hand, you have totally free reign, freedom to take risks, achieve, but definitely enough room for fuckups. true, we learn from our mistakes, but what happens when there is just a vacuum in leadership? i don't know.

i really liked israel. i liked the food. the people. the ppl screaming in the shuk selling pirated DVDs and oranges from the farms down south, and the chicks dude, the chicks. i fell in love so many times.

im making lentils now. fiber is so, dareisay, nourishing. eat some hi fiber food. take a dump. it happens on its own! i swear. then eat some chips. notice how unsatisfied you are? moral: up with fiber, down with chips.

i dontknowwhatiwant.idontknowwhatiwantidontknowwhatiwantidontknowwhatiwant
goodnight.



I don't know what I want I don't know what IwantI d on't knowwhatiwantIdon'tknowwhatiwantwhatIwant.

jet lag is a bitch part 2

The essential artsy Western Wall photo. In Italian the wall is called La Mure dei Pianti, the Wall fo Tears. Who's crying? Who's crying now? My shout out to Ariel Sharon...Keep on fighting my friend. You're really good at that. And once you're out, no more Snickers.

Botanical garden tour with Michael from Jewlicious
He's a good guy, wears a beanie in the heat, and knows the bus routes, likes walking in his sandals more than he should, and is vegetarian.
My Iraqi mom with her Iraqi cousin, whom at my cousin's bar mitzvah screamed a good fifteen minutes of "I'm Iraqi, you got that! Holmes!" Apparently he used to kick it with my grandfather in Baghdad...They were both ladies men. Like Leon Phelps, but much darker, and probably hairer, as well. And didn't drink Courvesoir. Only Arak.
More Oranges. My camera kicks your camera's ass so hard, so much, so very, very much.Smoking cigarettes will fucking kill you. And if they don't, you'll have to read this oversized "Smoking will kill you" ads on every pack you buy.

jet-lag is my bitch part 1

How do you denote a yawn. I'm ready to crash, burn, sleep...all those things, together, right now. I'm making aliyah. Jewspeak for moving to israel, at least for a while, this summer. I am tired, but I shall post. The first half of all my pictures, stupid me, didn't get downloaded to my USB jumpdrive, so we're starting from day 8 and working our way backasswards. I present to you: my trip: to the Holy Land.


Welcome to Israel Juice Man. I forgot that Tel-Aviv has experienced an influx of Juice Shops. But they're not yuppie Jamba juice places, with smoothies given monikers like Blueberry Boat Bonanza and razzmatazzbabs and Super Guava Suprise. Just Orange and Carrot Juice. In Yafo. We bought Tarboukes here for 70 sheks. I think its a good deal but we probably got ripped off.


With the mom in Tel-Aviv Yafo.
She's a great bargainer.
Or at least she used to be one.




Here we have my brother and I
getting warm
by the menorah in Jerusalem.
My rabbi told me in 5th grade that
in Israel, everyone's got their
menorahs out.
Hers was the only one
on her entire block. My rabbi is a liar.




Underground tour of the Western Wall with our friend. He has a kid now. (And a wife)

Spice market in the Arab quarter. Some of the shopkeepers wouldn't let me take pictures of the racks. Crazy. I am not an occupier. S'allam.