Beloved

I've been on a Shablool kick today, specifically the song Ma She'Yoter Amok Yoter Kachol (Whatever's Deeper Is More Blue). It's one of those songs you can just dance to in front of your mirror, perhaps with a hair brush in hand. Or while jumping on the bed. Or any other cliche activities that people perform while listening to awesome songs (driving with your hand out the window? standing outside of someone's window with a boombox over your head?).

My favorite video version is this one, because you can see my neighborhood in the distance, and Tel Aviv looked SO SHITTY when this video was made. Cracks me up. Just a bunch o' sand and dilapidated buildings. AMAZING. I think Arik is running around the beach I usually go to, which rules. One day, I will see him in Tel Aviv! He is the ultimate celeb sighting. And one day, Tel Aviv will look like this again, and I won't have to worry about people in huge skyscrapers staring at me while I sit on my balcony.
Here's the vid:

Unfortunately, the audio ain't too good on the Shitty Tel Aviv vid, so here's a better version:


<3

Arik is my favorite!*

*Except for when he sings cheesy, sentimental songs like Oof Gozal.

Look at Me, Busy as a Bee...

Damn, I am beginning to understand Israelis' obsession with New Age shit (yes, I am aware that I am Israeli and have always been into New Age shit, but let's just pretend I'm more of a foreigner than I really am and that the New Ageyness of Israelis is new to me).

It's just that you really have to be fucking zen to get through a day in Tel Aviv. Every day, I meet so many people I want to scream at, but I restrain myself. Like the scary frazzled woman on the bus today who was putting her bare feet on the seat in front of me. Or 99% of bus drivers. Well, okay, I guess my frustrations, as usual, mostly have to do with the bus, but ya know.

Thank God I do yoga. (I say this while dressed in full yoga gear even though I decided NOT to go to yoga after I put all my yoga clothes on. Instead I watched TV.)

And to think how much calmer I am now than I was when I first got here. (Did you know I've almost been here 1 year? OMG.) I was basically hyperventilating/crying every 2 secs 10 months ago, runnin round like a chicken with its head cut off.

Despite my current semi-calmness, I don't understand how I'm this exhausted every day simply from riding the bus, sitting in a cubicle, and riding the bus again. How does that tire a person so much? It just ain't right.

Maybe I should start doing meth?

Then I could be like this chipper young woman:



Hah, that never fails to crack me up.

The Change Has Come

So, naturally, for May 1, I went to the kibbutz, to experience socialism in action. Actually, the particular kibbutz I went to is no longer socialist, but it's the thought that counts.

I went to Kibbutz Eilon, where I was born, and where my dad was born. Going to my dad's kibbutz always makes me feel so cool, because everyone knows who I am and talks to me. This rarely happens in kibbutzim, where people are generally snobs who don't talk to strangers.

I went to the kibbutz bar (10 shekels for a glass of wine. OMG.) and I didn't need to be introduced to people because I'm "an F." so they already knew, apparently. I also was educated about the different types of avocado, and about a field day that kibbutznikim from Eilon call a "shtafetta." Yeah, I dunno. I offered people the little gossip I had about the kibbutz, and asked everyone who their parents were, so I could tell my parents whose kids I saw (this is all my parents will ask me about the next few days, I'm sure).

Everyone at the kibbutz was very happy that I voted Meretz in the election, and did not laugh at me when I told them I volunteer with Peace Now.

This has been my essay on why the kibbutz is super cool, awesome, and gnarly.

And now for something completely different. It is fun to watch this video and pretend that all the girls in the audience are fainting from the sheer idiocy of the lyrics. They are also trying to get on stage to punch Jagger in the face. The Rolling Stones should hope they never see me on the street and find out the way I talk when I'm spoken to. Because it's not very nice. The way I talk. When I'm spoken to. By the Rolling Stones. Fuck this song. Though it's good. Yet the lyrics suck.


PS Doesn't Mike Litt kinda dance like Mick Jagger? Anyone from Austin who still reads may blog, let me know what you think about this matter.

EDIT: Who am I kidding? He's totally Pirtle--that's who the dancing reminds me of. A Mike and Pirtle combo, I guess?