Did I ever tell you about how, on voting day, I voted at my old Israeli elementary school? The government apparently hadn't updated my address from ELEVEN YEARS AGO. What a mindfuck! Gal, if you're reading this, the mifletzet is still there and in tact. Hurray!In other circumstances, I would've gotten all emotional about going to my old school, but lots of hail and rain started hitting me as soon as I got off the bus to Nof-Yam, and it kind of ruined the mood. I was wearing flats and didn't have an umbrella. It hurt, and I got all wet. Thankfully, some dude stopped his car for me and took me to the school so that I wouldn't have to be hit by mini-balls of ice. But it was still raining when I got to the school so I couldn't go around to look for gogoim behind the building.
Everyone at the school looked vaguely familiar. I went up to some lady and asked which room I'm supposed to go into. She looked at my ID card, looked up my name, and said "you're from Ha'Gefen Street? Go to room 84." Bwahaha, my 11-year-old self's old street. Shablam. She then looked up the room number for this girl and her mom. Girl-and-mom combo told the lady their names. The names sounded vaguely familiar and the girl looked extremely familiar as well.
Later, I asked my mom if we know them and she said "Yeah, that girl was in your grade and you were friends. But you didn't like her. She was clingy and you were always annoyed." Ha!
Anyways, I don't know. This Childhood 2.0 stuff is as trippy as the Pacman/Tetris-inspired tile in my new apartment (more on that later).
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