I've been reminded that I forgot to mention one thing about our trip to Ashdod. At lunch, Elana and I had an orange cola drink that was oddly familiar (no, it wasn't Kinli: it seems Kinli has been run out of business by Fanta, a truly regrettable turn of events). Neither of us could remember when we had last had it, but the name as well as the taste struck a cord. It was called, "Superdrink Exotic." For some reason, this was remarkably funny at the time. Probably what was funnier was the fact that the Hebrew name (as so often happens here) was simply a transliteration of the English--so we were drinking "SupehrDreenk Egzohtik." It didn't make me either Supehr or Egzohtik. What a disappointment.
- posted by @ 9:56 AM

 
It was a quick visit to Ashdod today. We came, I studied for a little while, we visited, we ate, and then left while it was still light out. A nice visit, nonetheless. Tomorrow it's back to the grind. I theoretically have a Hebrew test tomorrow, but the teacher was supposed to leave a list of words for us: she never did. So the class is already planning to demonstrate just how Israeli we have become if she goes through with giving us the test: the word in Hebrew is "shvita," and it means "resting." It also means "strike." There will be NO test tomorrow!

Today we had our first experience with an automated movie rental place. We rented Terminator 3, Rise of the Machines, and after watching it, I would put the screenwriter's age somewhere between 11 and 14. But at least he had a sense of humor. And it afforded us the opportunity to watch the Governor of Califoria get his ass whomped by the chick who kissed Pink in Monaco. I didn't know that. Elana had to tell me.

And on that note: Happy Birthday, Clive Staples Lewis. Your name is a full sentence.
- posted by @ 10:42 PM

 
I didn't mention this in my blog this morning because I was way too tired to remember. Yesterday evening, we went to an art opening at the Jerusalem Theatre (Oh, it's a beautiful building!! Someday I will act there!). The show was for several of her classmates who have been studying at JSS for a few years. Their work was astoundingly good. I also got to meet some more of her classmates; without exception, each one has made a positive impression on me. It is an extraordinary group of people she calls colleagues.

Today Elana's uncle from her father's side, Grisha, came to visit us with his wife, Sima. This is not Grisha, her grandfather's brother; this is a different one. They were very nice and pleasant. It was my first time meeting this particular relative, and I was very glad to. They took us out to lunch at a French restaurant called Al Guta in Talbiyeh (trendy downtown Jerusalem), which was very nice. The odd thing of the day happened there. There were two parties at the restaurant (though a third joined later): ours, and a large gathering of middle-aged and elderly men. Grisha recognized the men: included in the party were Yitzchak Navon, Israel president before Katzav, Weizman and Herzog, and several of Ehud Barak's top guys from his administration. I was content to let it go as a near miss, but Sima decided to be outgoing and asked for a picture. President Navon introduced himself to us, and we did likewise; we took two pictures with him (with Grisha's camera; he'll email them to us, and then they're for the website!). Don't get too excited about this, though. The office of the President has absolutely no political power (except the authority to pardon condemned criminals, a privilege no one else shares) and is utterly ceremonial. Occasionally the office can be used for political purposes, because it is elected by the Knesset (see Moshe Katzav, who was elected president over the politically hapless Shimon Peres, simply to spite Ehud Barak and the left after Camp David 2000 broke down). This is akin to meeting Queen Elizabeth II rather than Tony Blair. Grisha pointed out that in a country of six million people, roughly the size of New Jersey, it is highly unlikely that you will not have a run-in like this at some point. Still, as we stood next to President Navon, smiling for the camera, I couldn't help but wonder if he looked at us and thought the same thing. Somehow I doubt it occurred to him.

Tomorrow we're heading to Ashdod to visit the usual suspects.

- posted by @ 8:57 PM

 
I was awake at 4 this morning. It was sort of intended.

I decided that, it being Friday and all, I could wake up early to listen to the Avs game. I did indeed wake up early, decided I wanted to get back to sleep, but then I couldn't. So I got out of bed and listened to the game. A fun game with lots of goals. Elana, of course, does not share my love of hockey, so she, like a sane person, stayed asleep. So, as all of you lay down with your distended stomachs into your turkey-comas, I have been awake now for four hours. Being up this early also afforded me the opportunity to chat with some friends from home, who have gone COMPLETELY out of their minds. Not that I blame them; if I lived in Albany it would probably take but a week before guys in white suits were looking at me through a little glass window.

Today looks like it will be a relaxing day. A little straightening, a little shopping (now that we have a working car again, we can go to the supermarket rather than the little tiny market), a little homework, and a little unwinding.

My family, I want to mention, got together and had what I understand is the biggest turkey my grandfather has ever smoked. If the legends are true, there should still be some leftovers when we come back to visit. For now, though, good morning. I'm off to throw some breakfast together.
- posted by @ 8:07 AM

 
Elana has pointed out that an inordinate number of blog entries are unfortunately car- or driving- related. She's absolutely right: the Shtinker has caused enough problems. I know I've said this before, but hopefully, no more!

Yesterday morning the guy from Shagrir, the tow truck company, came to see if he could get the car to work. I found myself praying he would not, because even if he was able to get it working, I would still want to take it to the mechanic. Of course, if he could not, then he would tow it; otherwise, I would have to drive it myself. It was therefore with a bit of chagrin that I heard the Shtinker shudder to life after his ministrations. It turned out to be a clogged carburetor, and he said that I should definitely take it to the mechanic. So what could I do? I went upstairs, showered, and dragged Elana to Rishon LeZion to take it back to the mechanic. We dropped the car off, and after finding a post office to pay the testing fee (for the emissions test, which was due) we made our way to the bus station, to catch a bus back to Jerusalem. Neither of us were keen on the idea of getting on any bus, obviously...and once again, Uncle Izya stepped in and went above and beyond.

Izya, I think I mentioned, works in Rishon LeZion, even though he lives in Petah Tikva. When we knew we were on our way, we got in contact with him in the hopes of seeing him. We didn't think we would be able to, since he is a huge machir at one of Israel's largest construction companies, and is a very busy guy. He called while we were waiting for the bus, walked over to us, and took us out for a shawarma. He then did something absolutely unnecessary: he loaned us his car. He said he didn't need it for the day, and since it looked like we would get our car back the next day (this was yesterday, so that means today), we could bring his car back to him. It was a stickshift, and after becoming accustomed to driving the automatic Shtinker, it took some getting used to, but it drove well and got us back to Jerusalem safe and sound. At home, we baked some cookies to give to Izya today.

I was stressing about the car, since I had a test in Hebrew today, about when I would be able to get it. Fortunately, at about 8:30 the garage called and said the car was ready. I hopped into Izya's car, made my way to the garage in Rishon (it's about an hour drive), and picked up the Shtinker. I left Izya's car at the garage, as per his request...he refused to give me directions to his work, saying that it would be easier for him to come pick up his car from another part of Rishon than for me to try to find a place I've never driven before. The Shtinker drove well on the way to school (I made it time for my test, and think I did well), enough so that even I didn't have any moments of worry (which I always do with cars; the smallest sound forces me to perk up my ears and ask quickly, in an apocalyptic tone, "What was that?"). Now I am just waiting for 4:00 PM, when I can check out my reading for the State and Society in the Medieval Islamic World class.

Since it's Thanksgiving for all you Americans, I've decided to do something incredibly cliche, and write a list of things I am thankful for. I've been feeling very good the last few days, much more confident than I have in a while, and I think a list of happy things is a good way to perpetuate that mood. You don't have to read it. Consider this a free pass to close your web browser and do something else. But here's the list. I'm thankful for:

1. Elana. I don't think this one really needs explanation, but my life is so much richer, more complex and more meaningful since Elana came into it.

2. Good family on all sides, and new and old friends. Haglers and Edelmans, Bronshteins and Foigels, Elichises and Broitmans and Kramers (oh my!). Each side of our family, all the offshoots and cousins, all of been of wonderful help and support, not just since we came to Israel but for our lives. Elana's family has made no distinction between grandson and grandson-in-law (or nephew-in-law or second-cousin-once-removed-in-law, either), and for that I am grateful. We have also seen and been in touch with old friends, and met new friends here, like Jacob, Dan, Natalie, Nava, Misha, Antonia, Shaul...friends of different types, from different times, who have been part of our lives here.

3. Friends from back home. Thanks to all of you who have kept in contact or have kept a blog, which gives the feeling of keeping in contact. Some have even sold kidneys to call our cellphone (Looking in your direction, Clone); how else could they possibly have afforded it? The rest of you, keep those emails coming.

4. The smooth transition to life here. Various people, like our landlord Micha and Maya at Bank Hapoalim, have made our first steps into Israeli life easy ones. Micha does everything carefully, by the book, and over the table, which makes it incredibly easy to take care of the business end of things; he also is happy to give us carrots when it's Shabbat and we can't get them at the Makolet. People like Grisha and Valya, Vova and Alla, Izya, and the Amirs have also been of great help in our settling. I realize that I mentioned some of these people in the family and friends section already.

5. The difficulties which have arisen. I realize this is a strange thing to be thankful for, but the momentary annoyance or frustration is worth the long-term growth which arises as a result. Less significant difficulties, like those with the Shtinker, have if nothing else afforded me the opportunity to say words like "alternator," "carburetor," and "starter" in Hebrew (if you're interested, the Hebrew words are "altehrnahtor," "carburahtur," and "stahrtehr"). On another level, my experience with various sketchy mechanics made me realize that there are sadly a lot of people out there who are more than happy to take absolute advantage of whomever they can ("I fixed the oil leak, but from the five seconds I looked at the electrical system, I can tell you probably need a new one. If your car doesn't work perfectly after this, bring it to me, and I'll take it to an electrician, and we'll take care of everything for you. We'll discuss the price later; you have enough to worry about now.") In my naivete I did not altogether realize the extent of this unfortunate fact, nor did I realize the chutzpah that people would so brazenly display. I'm thankful that all these schmucks who are after my money are not smart enough to be subtle, thus affording me the opportunity to learn without serious financial consequences this most important lesson first-hand.

More serious difficulties are obviously difficult to be thankful for. Both of my grandmothers died within a week of each other a month and a half ago. We of course wish we could have made it home to be with family then. But I am thankful that they both had long lives, with loving family around them, and that they are, and will remain, well-remembered. I think of them often, and miss them.

6. We're students again. Working crap jobs in Chicago and Denver (though the Denver ones were much less crap) was like having our life on pause. We weren't progressing, we weren't making money, and we weren't growing. For me, attending class, and for Elana, working at the studio, has turned both of our minds on again, and we are each again filled with a sense of purpose and a clearer long-term vision of our lives. Through five weeks at JSS, Elana's art has already improved by leaps and bounds, in my opinion. Through five weeks at Hebrew University, I am able to speak Hebrew much better, read and understand a rudimentary (perhaps 500 words) level of literary Arabic, and talk intelligently about the different factors contributing to the rise of Islam and its historical relationship with Judaism. A lot of history is mixed in with that. Just in time, too: my brain was beginning to atrophy.

7. The quiet. I don't know how many of you realize this, since it's so often in the news, but there has been a relative quiet in Israel since we arrived. There has been one bombing and some shootings, but the level is so much lower now than it was a mere three months ago. Now, there is talk of a cease-fire with extremist militant elements of the Palestinian polity. While this makes me nervous long-term--after all, it's not as if the extremists are suddenly accepting Israel's existence; this would be to regroup, and I have no illusions about that--in the short-term it would make me breathe a whole lot easier. Not that we're going to stop being careful and take a busy bus to a busy restaurant--in downtown Hebron. We'll continue to be just as careful and alert. But perhaps everything will be a little less stressful.

8. The apartment. Separate from the landlord, who was already mentioned here, the apartment itself is a godsend. Affordable, close to the school, in good shape, on a quiet street near some really neat stuff, secure, a new building, easy parking, easy to keep clean and fully furnished. It's what I dared not hope for when we began the apartment search.

9. Health and happiness. Although "health" has to be loosely defined for us--those colds were monsters--we are certainly happy and on the road to wellness. My cold is almost gone; though Elana's has regrouped, we're hopeful that it won't be long before all is well.

Happy Turkey Day to all of you. While you're watching your football and stuffing your faces with...well, stuffing, I guess...our wishes for a good day, a great meal, and a truly outstanding after-feast nap are with all of you.
- posted by @ 3:28 PM

 
Some weeks there just isn't that much to talk about. Other weeks the blog entries come fast and furious.

I have spoken to the mechanic in Rishon, and it looks like that will get taken care of soon. The taxi driver this morning was the strong, silent type; not a word was spoken. I asked him "Mah Nishmah?" when I got into the cab (literally, "What will we hear?" but really "how are you?") His response was a grunted, "Mah Nishmah, Tiveriyah" ("What will we hear, Tiberias?"--a clever rhyme, to be sure, but the message was clearly, "I'll get you to your school safely and quickly, but please don't talk to me.") Interestingly enough, this cab driver was Israeli. I've decided I much prefer the Greek- or Arab- strains of the species. Cab driving is beneath Israelis in their own country, obviously (as it is for much of the world--that's an immigrant job), and when you get an Oleh or an Arab, they are generally just happy to be in Israel (yes, even the Arabs--CNN-broadcast protests, and frankly justified cries of "second class citizen" aside, they know that they have it better here than they would anywhere else in the Middle East), and it makes for a very interesting cab ride.

I promise my blog will move away from taxis soon. But it's still fascinating to me. In Chicago, really the only place I took cabs with any sort of reasonable frequency (ie, more than once), there was this unspoken accord with the driver to basically pretend for the duration of the ride that the other person didn't actually exist. It was mutually agreed that the driver was just a robotic automaton with no mouth who existed to ferry you from place to place, and you were an ATM machine that he had to drive a certain distance to withdraw money from. Here, it's much cheaper, and you get an interesting experience to boot. Tipping is truly optional, and clearly a rare enough occurrence that they react by indenturing their second-born to your will.

Now, I haven't done my Arabic homework, so I'm going to go do that now. The letters Fa and Kuuf have recently been added to my arsenal, allowing me to mangle even more words. I'm actually starting to learn some things that can be used in conversation, and am reading it fairly well. I look at the stuff I am now reading, and if you would have told me a month ago that in four weeks I could read and understand THAT, I would have questioned your sobriety. It's a credit to the teacher, Yael, that I, and others in the class, have made such rapid progress.
- posted by @ 9:14 AM

 
I continue to make taxi drivers' days.

Today was a pretty average day. We finally finished the story of Joseph in my Cross-Currents class, and I must say I don't feel too much the wiser. We as a class took a very roundabout route, over five weeks, to come up with the seemingly obvious conclusion that both Jewish and Islamic sources influenced each other; that is to say, the influence was reciprocal rather than one-way. Then Hebrew, then Arabic, then I grabbed a taxi at the front gate to get back home.

The taxi driver began the conversation that I've come to realize is part of what you pay for when you get into a taxi here by asking me what day of the week it was. When I told him it was Monday, he was in disbelief: he had been to the Greek Consulate that morning, and it said it would be closed on Monday and Tuesday, the 23rd and 24th. He knew today was the 24th, so he assumed it was Tuesday, and thus the conclusion we arrived at was that the Greek Consulate had made a mistake. This led me to ask the question I believe I was expected to ask: "So...you're from Greece?" He was, and took this question as an invitation to extoll the plethora of virtues of his homeland. I didn't mind; he was so enthusiastic talking about the crystal waters of the Aegean ("I never KNEW what crystals were until I looked at the beautiful Aegean!") and the beaches ("Where you can look at the sand and know in your heart that nobody has ever set foot on this beach before, even if you saw somebody there last week! You are a king!") that it was infectious and I, too, found myself longing for my Greek homeland. Not really, but you can imagine what I mean. Everything he said seemed designed to make me want to go to Greece: I'm half convinced he was a plant from the Greek tourism ministry. When he told me about the beautiful girls at the discotheques, I made some joke about not being able to look at girls anymore since I got married. Not to be discouraged, he immediately changed tactics and said, "Oh! You must take your wife to Athuna! Romantic? No! Romantic and a half!" ("Romanti v'chetzi"--it works better in Hebrew than in English). After a brief foray into the beauties of his hometown of Thessaloniki (which he explained means "Victorious Thessalo," refering to Alexander the Great's sister) and a firm, but not vitriolic, diatribe about the historical warmongering of the Turks, we arrived at the apartment. He had taken me for a cheap price--25 shekels--so I gave him a 10 shekel tip (approximately $2.30), "for Greece," as I said in Hebrew. He looked so happy, that the Arab taxi driver repeating "A'Halat" pails in comparison. He wished me every success, almost one by one. He then told me that wonderful people like me are always welcome in Greece, and nothing would make him happier than to hear that one day, I had seen Greece for myself.

Elana also has an anecdote she told me, which I will repeat here. It's less an anecdote and more an illustration that provides yet another glimpse into life here. It starts with the seemingly ordinary fact that today for lunch, she bought a sandwich. The story behind the sandwich is that there is a vendor, a young man with a tawny beard, who comes up to the studio every day with a metal-mesh wicker-type basket full of freshly made sandwiches. This is not somebody employed by the school; this is a guy who probably works at a bakery nearby, discovered the school, and takes the opportunity to make an extra few shekels. This is something you would not see in the US, and I like pointing out the differences...especially the differences I like.

In more mundane news, I can tow the car to Rishon LeZion for free. It seems that the insurance is coming in handy, after all. I look forward to having the car fixed, but until then these taxi drivers make interesting copy. I do hope that tomorrow, I can have a taxi driver who can sing the praises of his native Turkey. I think I ought to get a fair and balanced view of the other side, after all. Fox News would be proud.
- posted by @ 4:06 PM

 
The Shtinker wouldn't shtart this morning. And in an odd sort of way, this has put me in a good mood.

First of all, the Shtinker has been having problems for a while; I'm sick of mechanics doing cheap fix-jobs and saying, "If there are any other problems, bring it back to me and I'll take care of everything." When I hear a mechanic invite me back for more work to be done, alarm bells start ringing, obviously. So no more of that. I'm probably going to have it towed to the original mechanic, who should take care of everything; after all, he somehow gave this car a clean bill of health in the first place

I'm glad that it happened at the apartment rather than here at school. That means I don't need to worry about towing it home before I tow it to Rishon LeZion, and I don't feel stranded. I'm especially glad that it didn't happen on the road. I started to get the feeling that this was inevitable, and I'm glad that it happened safely.

My obsessive-compulsive side, though admittedly a small part of my psyche, is immensely satisfied with the situation. Not only do I not have to worry about whether the Shtinker will start today--hey, guess what? It won't!--but it happened right at the beginning of the week. Not only is the worst over and done with, but even the flow of the week is not disrupted. Last week? Shtinker to school. This week? Taxi. Clear-cut, easy dividing line between this week and last. Though that may sound strange...or even insane...to you, it is a decent contributor to my good mood this morning.

Taxis are not as expensive as they are in the US: 30 shekels (roughly $6.50) will get me to school AND make the taxi drivers happy with their tip and another 30 will get me back. If the car is going to be out of commission for a long time, it becomes cost effective to rent a car. But until then, I'll deal with the taxi.

My taxi ride today, for instance, afforded me the chance to make my driver's day. You can tell the difference between an Israeli Hebrew speaker and an Arab Hebrew speaker by the pronunciation of the letter chet (the "ACH" sound from Scotland). There is no such letter in Arabic, only a hard "H." The verb "Lakachat," for example, becomes "Lakaw'Hat." Well, it was clear today that my taxi driver was an Arab, as most taxi drivers are. Midway through the car ride, I was cramming in my head for the Arabic quiz I have in 50 minutes (I really ought to continue cramming, so I'll make this brief). I asked him how to say "A'Hal" (family member, citizen, or person of) in plural. He was so happy I was asking about Arabic that he repeated the word "A'Halat" probably twenty times, with a very big smile on his face. He was so thrilled that he seemed almost sorry to ask for my money at the end of the ride. One thing is for sure: I will never forget how to say family members, because all I need to do is think back to this cab ride and hear in my head: "A'Halat! ken, A'Halat. A'Hal b'rabim zeh A'Halat!...A'Halat!"
- posted by @ 9:42 AM

 
I just finished reading the Geneva Accord, a grassroots treaty designed by, among others, former Israeli MK and Avoda-nik Yossi Beilin, and former PA Information Minister Yasser Abd Rabbo. I must say that I am impressed by this document, with several exceptions, which I will talk about in a minute. But first, the positives of the accord, which are many.

First of all, the mere existence of such a document--which as we speak is being mailed to every home in Israel and the Occupied Territories--is heartening. It shows that dialogue is possible, something which is so significant, given the international perception that Israelis and Palestinians (or Jews and Muslims, to the even less-informed among us) are genetically incapable of communicating with each other, let alone living side by side.

On another level, it shows that dialogue is possible on a personal level. Although Beilin and Abd Rabbo are former politicians and are obviously well-acquainted with the inner workings of both peoples' regimes, they are nonetheless private citizens. Unusually smart, perhaps, but certainly private. The fact of their prominence certainly does not hurt, and provides the document with an air of legitimacy that simply would not exist if our neighbor Amnon met with Kamal from Jericho and wrote this thing. But, ultimately, a peace has to come from the people, not from the governments (and almost certainly not the governments that are in charge right now), and that's exactly what this is.

There is almost no doubt in my mind that if and when there is a final, conclusive, comprehensive peace treaty between Israel and the newly-created Palestine, it will look like the Geneva Accord. A little difference here or there won't surprise me. But these are the lines, and for either side to compromise more than is already done here would make it untenable. Israel will never say, "Oh, gosh, I guess you were right. We DON'T have a right to exist. Here are the keys to the Knesset. And don't forget to turn off the gas when you close it up for the night." And of course the Palestinians will never accept the Israeli Right's argument that Palestinians are a recent creation and have no true basis in history (an argument that is well-presented here; this presentation, and others by the same people, are oversimplifications, but give a good and moderately accurate picture of the entire situation from a right-of-center perspective for beginners). Israel will never accept an agreement that gives the Western Wall to the Palestinians; the Palestinians will never accept an agreement that leaves East Jerusalem, and Abd al-Malik's wonderous Dome, out of their reach. Israel will never accept full responsibility for the refugee problem (nor should it, as the presentation suggested), but it must also realistically find, and actively participate in, a just solution to it, or the Palestinian street won't accept it. Israel will never accept a weak Palestinian security apparatus that cannot stop terrorist activities, and the Palestinians will never accept any Israeli incursions into their future sovereign territory to respond to terror attacks that "slip through." Most of the settlers live along the Green Line and will be annexed into Israel in a 1:1 land exchange. The accord, as it is a written, does a good job of acknowledging, presenting, and even solving these sticky points: but, any which way to either side of the line, and the agreement falls through.

This is precisely what makes the agreement as brilliant as it is: the fact is, the final accord cannot but resemble it. There are only two options apart from this: either the Palestinians destroy Israel militarily (as close to impossible as it can be) or the Israelis destroy the Palestinian polity (either by forced expulsion or genocide; again, not a real possibility, despite what some propagandists would have you believe). The peace option is the only option, because the conflict cannot continue forever. It can continue indefinitely, but there will be a peace of sheer exhaustion (is it possible we are seeing something of that during this current quiet period?) before one side is able to utterly destroy the other.

The problem is that the brilliance does not extend beyond the theoretical. The brilliance, as I call it, is actually not so brilliant, but sort of just "bright, especially when compared to the all-or-nothing idiocy that is in vogue with Sharon and Arafat." It, as I said, acknowledges the differences, and offers some solution as to how they should be solved; stipulates for the creation of joint organizations, international watchdogs, and avenues of dispute settlement; and enumerates the structure of diplomatic relations. But this is nothing so new to truly excite me. It is simply a recognition of the situation as it is (a worthy achievement, to be sure, but not enough). A number of things are left for a mysterious "Annex X" which does not exist (they say, "does not *yet* exist," but I think this whole thing would have been more earth-shattering if they had waited to unveil it until this Annex X is completed). The specifics of exactly where the lines on the map will be drawn (with the exception of Jerusalem, where the description of the border is practically street-by-street; the Temple Mount is given to the Palestinians with the stipulation that Jews are allowed free access to it, and the Western Wall of course remains Israeli), of how exactly the security apparatus will come into being, the structures, procedures, and modalities of the international Implementation and Verification Group, the structure and duties of the Multinational Security Force, the rate of withdrawal of Israeli troops and settlers from the territories and the method of and timetable for transfer of authority to the Palestinians, a list of settlements to be annexed and a list of those to be evacuated, and a clear indication of who is to be financially responsible for what, are ALL LEFT for this phantom annex. Articles on Water, Economic Relations, and Legal Cooperation remain to be completed. These are not incidental considerations, and until these issues are solved, I will remain impressed but my mind will be far from blown. The doubt will also remain in my mind that this is nothing but a political ploy to embarrass Sharon and Arafat; without specifics, there is no true agreement. Given the timing--America headed into an election, Israel with an election due in not too long, and of course against the background of Abu Ala's capitulation in his power struggle with Arafat--it seems unlikely that its publicization concurrent with these events is a mere coincidence. This is well beyond Oslo, Wye, and Sharm-al-Sheikh, but Geneva, without the specifics, is nothing but yet another agreement in principle. We've seen that before.

The fact that it was not endorsed by, and was in fact decried by, both Sharon and Arafat says a lot to me for its on-the-ground legitimacy, but underscores an important fact: there is no real agreement, even on the principles expressed in the paper, between anyone who actually counts right now. Until Sharon realizes that continuing EVEN NOW to support settlements, and until Arafat realizes that negotiation precludes the idea that, say, Tel Aviv will ever be a Palestinian city, there will be no agreement of any sort. That means that this impressive document, which has prompted me to write this long diatribe, is naught but a piece of paper.
- posted by @ 9:42 PM

 
We did indeed have a lovely visit with my Aunt; we ate Shawarma at "our" stand, the Adir, and came back here for chatting. It's good as always to reconnect.

I'm still sick, but hanging in there. I went to classes today, and I'm glad I did; my State and Society in the Medieval Islamic World class gets more and more interesting each week. Today we touched upon the Turks and Mama'lik (Mamluks) for the first time. Something about the existence of an entirely foreign military with an indigenous ruling and middle class--with absolutely no overlap--is fascinating to me. But we're moving through this history at a prodigious rate, and I'm sure we're only scratching the surface. The Turks are sure to make for a fascinating term paper. For those of you that read George R. R. Martin, I now have some brilliant ideas on the origins of both the Dothraki (they are not entirely based on the Mongols) and the Unsullied. But I don't think Professor Amitai will accept any such topic for the paper.

Meanwhile, I've amused myself by reading other blogs: I highly recommend Jeff's blog for anyone who wishes to be able to steal someone else's brilliant leftist thoughts and pass them off as their own around the water cooler. I have yet to do this myself, but should the opportunity arise, I will plagiarize with reckless abandon. I also recommend Ricki's blog because she's funny and astute, and tells it like it is. She's like Ricki Lake, only much prettier and not lame. And Rachel's blog, of course, because we all bow down to Rachel. If you don't, APOSTASY!

One more note: today Elana did the best drawing she has done yet in Israel. I would describe it, but instead I will soon post it on the website, and you can all see what I mean.
- posted by @ 10:12 PM

 
Hebrew University has suffered a loss.

Miriam Shefer, whom I never did meet but about whom I had heard legends, passed away last night. She was the administrative director of the Rothberg International School, but had been out all year, ill.

She managed course registrations, scheduling, and general administration; but more than that, she was Rothberg's Jack-of-all-Trades. For those of you who have a Brandeis connection, she was the Hebrew University equivalent of Alwina Bennett. Many people were obviously very somber today; the prevailing mood was enough to let me, and those like me in their first year of study, know that this was someone very special and integral to the school's smooth running. She had been injured in the terrorist attack at the cafeteria last year, but survived; her friend, with whom she was sitting (and with whom I emailed when I originally considered applying to Hebrew University) was killed in that attack. I am sorry that I did not get the chance to know her.

In other news, my Aunt Robin just called. She is in Jerusalem on business and, according to the plans I just made between paragraphs, is going to be here in about an hour and a half. This of course gives me enough time to relax for another fifteen minutes, and straighten up a bit (this apartment is ridiculously easy to keep clean; even when it gets messy, it takes maybe twenty minutes to clean up). It will be good to see family again; I hope that I don't give her my cold to carry back to the LA branch of my father's side of the family.
- posted by @ 3:07 PM

 
It was bound to happen. When Elana came down with the 'flu last week, you had to know it was only a matter of time before I stardded du dalk like dis. And I have.

I'm not the only one. My computer got a minor virus this morning, which was easily taken care of (thaaaaaank you, Symantec). It's odd, because ever since both Elana's computer and mine got the W32.blaster virus over the summer, I've made it my personal mission to keep both windows and my virus files up-to-date. So, I ran live-update again, scanned, and fixed. For heavens' sake, people. Don't you have anything better to do with your time than write a little creative piece of useless software that temporarily annoys everyone by shutting down their computers? I mean, I sort of wonder what the point is of sending out a virus that is so easily fixed. Whoever you are, you are risking imprisonment and the ire of the online community so that you can know that people everywhere went, "Oh, goddamnit," and were forced to let their computers scan for and fix the virus, and that's it? I hate to say this because I surely don't want to see it happen, but why not wait to send it out until it's a big one? Don't waste your time on these small potatoes! Erase the database of the Federal Reserve and melt-down the global economy! Send something out that transmogrifies computers into gremlins who like to eat kitten paws! (Nod to Schmendiman). Why...do...you...bother??

So, my computer is fine now. And we went to Ashdod this weekend. Alla, Vova, and Eden were up visiting old friends in Karmiel (sister city of my hometown, or so I recall), so we spent a bit of time with Grisha and Valya, and saw Tova and Liat only briefly. Tova, like me, spent much of her weekend studying. The Shtinker behaved himself with his new tire, he didn't overheat, he has plenty of oil, and he has nothing to complain about.

I've decided that visiting Elana's family in Ashdod is sort of analogous to restarting the computer. We can get stressed and worried and harried by the week, and then we relax among family in Ashdod. It's a pleasant one hour drive between here and there, with very little traffic, which is also very relaxing. We come back on Saturday evening (or Saturday afternoon, in which case all the Dati'im shoot us dirty looks for driving on Shabbat), and are ready for the week on Sunday.

Anyway, I'm going to go rest this nasty virus. Oh, and for those of you who are interested, FedEx contacted me and our winter clothes will be delivered tomorrow. Just in the nick of time, too...Jerusalem is starting to do it's Chicago winter imitation. I'm sorry, Jerusalem, but 5-10 mph winds and 40 degrees just can't compete with a city specifically designed with the sole purpose of freezing human blood. Chicago, we salute you.
- posted by @ 3:35 PM

 
The title of this entry is, "Just when you thought it was safe to get back in the Shtinker."

Today was a pretty average day for me; class, wait at the library until 4 when I can check out the book I need to read. On the way home, I thought what a good thing it was that the Shtinker seemed to be working properly, and at least that was no longer a stressor. Just then--

BOOM!

Ka-chunk ka-chunk ka-chunk ka-chunk ka-chunk ka-chunk ka-boom ka-chunk ka-thud

I stopped the car on the side of the road, and the flat tire I saw was not exactly a surprise, given the "ka-chunk" nature of the noise the car was making. What was a surprise was the torn shreds of the tire, which explained that initial "BOOM!" A couple of Israeli guys stopped and helped me flag down a car with a jack (for some reason the Shtinker has none, though that will be remedied tomorrow at the gas station), and they helped change the tire. Had Elana been there, I would not have needed the help to change the tire. I can only imagine the looks the Israelis would have given us. The rest of the drive home, I'm happy to report, was smooth. Except for the traffic. It's been about twenty minutes.

I'm tired. Time for some Shawarma.
- posted by @ 5:23 PM

 
This is the third time I have tried to post this blog. For some reason, blogger doesn't want to let me.

Anyway, I've been informed by certain members of Albany high society that it has been a long time since I updated this blog. While I certainly appreciate the readership...people actually read this thing!...I haven't updated because, well, not too much has been going on.

Elana has been sick, and only yesterday night did she begin to finally feel better. I have been dutifully trudging up to Mount Scopus for classes, which have continued to be interesting and I have kept up with the work and the reading. Even the Cross-currents class has improved, though it has remained disorganized in presentation.

I do finally have a story to tell, which happened yesterday. I needed to pick up and read a copy of al-Baidawi's commentary on the 12th sura of the Quran, the story of Yusuf (Joseph) for the Cross-currents class. Unfortunately, the Mount Scopus library's edition had been loaned out; so, too, the copy at Hebrew University's Givat Ram campus. The only available copies in all of Israel, in fact, were in Tel Aviv and Haifa. Interlibrary loan was an option, but it would take more than the week I had to get to get the book here. Another option was presented to me. Apparently, they could copy the whole book and fax it! I was amazed. Fine, said I, let's do that then.

The librarian: "B'seder, shmonim shkalim l'kol daf."

What was that?

"Shmonim shkalim l'kol daf."

You mean..."shmonim shkalim l'kol ha'sefer?"

No, I was assured in a firm tone, "l'kol daf!"

For the non-Hebrew speakers among you, I was being asked to pay 80 shekels a page. Let's do some math. 80 (shekels/page) x 33 (pages that I actually need) = NIS 2,640.

2640 (total shekels)/4.45 (shekels/dollar) = $593.26

Why don't I just buy the goddamn book....

...twelve times?
- posted by @ 7:25 AM

 
The wireless network...has been reborn! I went today to Canyon Malcha, to the other Office Depot, and exchanged my store credit for the exact same network. There were a couple of reasons for this; the first, most obvious one, is that it was the only network they had in stock. The second reason was that all the software was installed, and besides, if it didn't work, I could just return it again. It seems to be working fine; besides one glitch which was caused by a loose WAN cable, I no longer get kicked off the internet once a minute.

Both of my quizzes went well today; I know I didn't ace them, but I also know that I didn't do badly. Tomorrow is an 8 AM class, which should be interesting but hasn't been yet: the Cross-Cultural Currents between Islamic and Jewish Cultures. I have hopes for the class, but after two sessions it has failed to pick up any real momentum, as opposed to my other two non-language classes, which are humming along at warp three.

Elana made a wonderful dinner tonight: shnitzel, potatoes, and veggies. I ate too much, and consequently am already pretty darn tired.

She's currently watching Russian Improv/Sketch Comedy on cable. She was flipping through channels, and suddenly I heard a bunch of Russian men singing, loudly and obnoxiously, "BELLA CIAO BELLA CIAO BELLA CIAO CIAO CIAO!." Repeat ad nauseum, until finally a man in a black hat put pieces of tape over everyone's mouth (including the bird who was pirched on one guy's shoulder, squawking the same grating refrain). When finally everyone's mouth was taped, he taped his own mouth, and everybody danced (shades of Corky St. Clair). Non-Jewish Russians are very strange.
- posted by @ 7:45 PM

 
The wireless network...is no more. We finally got sick of losing the connection all the time (the words "wireless connection unavailable" have been in my life so much recently that they have lost all meaning). It was probably just a defective piece of machinery, but nonetheless, I am probably going to play it safe and get a normal router tomorrow.

I returned the thing to Office Depot tonight. After a couple of trips there and back (I had stupidly left the Installer CD at home the first trip), I was able to get store credit. Unfortunately, all they had in stock were switches, which are slower than networks, and I decided I would wait and go to the big store in Canyon Malcha ("Queen Mall") after classes tomorrow.

So we are down to one connectable computer at a time. That's okay though: at least we can be certain that it will always be connected when we want it to be.

Elana made more chicken soup today. If you'll excuse me, I have to go inhale some.
- posted by @ 8:02 PM

 
Not too much new to report since Jacob left. We've kind of been just doing our thing; I have a couple of quizzes (Arabic and Hebrew) on Sunday, and Elana was good enough to study with me. She is multitalented, but I continue to be amazed at her ability to come up with brilliant and witty mnemonic devices to remember vocabulary. She, of course, has been continuing to draw, and is clearly improving. Soon, I will take some pictures of her work and post it on the website.

Today Alla and Vova came, with Eden, to visit from Ashdod. We bought some bourekas for lunch and had homemade shnitzel for dinner. In between, we went to the Goldman promenade, and got some pictures of Jerusalem. The view is so famous that when I post the pictures on the web, you will all think it's cliche. After that, we walked down Emek Refa'm, where there is an open bazaar the first Friday of every month. Elana's classmate Nava makes hamsas and sells them there; they were very good.

Elana now wishes to relate a funny story, which we just copied and pasted from an email she wrote. Here's Elana:

I was sitting around the dinner table with 20 or so relatives...most of which I had by now met. I was meeting my great-aunt Lyuba's two daughters for the first time. So, when dinner was winding down, I turned to Lyuba and whispered,"I have a secret for you!" She asked what, and I replied, "You have two very beautiful daughters!" She laughed and said thank you and turned to the rest of the guests and remarked, "Elana just told me a secret!" The woman next to her, Rosa, gasped and cried out, "Is she pregnant!!!???" An expectant hush fell over the table... Eek! "No way," I calmed them down. "Those aren't the kind of secrets I tell!" So, yeah, that was that. People were very amused.

That's about all. More later.
- posted by @ 9:41 PM

 
Last night I saw my childhood best friend, Jacob. He has been in Israel for the past six months or so, studying first at a Yeshiva in the Old City, and now at a Yeshiva in Gush Etzion, which is behind the Green Line but is almost certain to be annexed into Israel as part of a final peace accord. It was really good to see him again; he seems to have found at least a temporary direction for his life that he is happy with, and it's good to see that, too. Sadly for us, he's returning to the US for an indefinite period of time next week, though he hinted that he could be back before we leave.

We met him at our bank branch on Derech Hebron, and walked from there back to Emek Refa'im. We found a restaurant that was Kosher and pretty safe...a four-meter-high wall around it, which was a new one on me (plus, it was almost empty)...and sat and ate. It turned out to be an American restaurant, a fancy burger joint. They did bring us mountains of food.

Our waitress, who hailed from the Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago but had made Aliyah a few years back, didn't know what to make of us. Here were two, obviously secular, Jews sitting with a religious Jew. You NEVER see that here; the gulf is wide, and the only reason the religious/secular rift hasn't caused huge social problems in Israel yet is because there are the Palestinians to worry about first. If peace with the Palestinians ever comes, the potential secular/religious conflict could come to a head. Heads turned as we walked down the street; I imagine people thought we were engaged in some sort of social deviance project from the wide berths and quizzical looks. The waitress asked both me and Elana what we were studying, then almost seemed to remind herself that she should ask Jacob too; it's astonishing how uncomfortable she was. Jacob was great about it, though, and called everyone he talked to, like the security guard at the restaurant, "Tzadik," or righteous man. That also caught people off-guard; everyone looks down on the Orthodox, and expects to be looked down upon in return. This world needs more people like Jacob, who are firm in their convictions but acknowledge, respect, and even celebrate the well-meaning convictions of others.

There is a long day of class ahead. Gotta go fuel up.
- posted by @ 11:20 AM

 
I did indeed wake up early this morning to watch the game, and despite the last-second loss to the Patriots, I have to say it was worth every minute of it. Not only because this is one of (possibly) two Broncos games I will have the privilege of seeing this year. That is, one of two under the clearly-safe assumption that the Broncos aren't exactly Super Bowl contenders this year. But seeing the game gave me those simple sports joys I haven't had here. The feeling when your team scores a touchdown, or makes a big play...it's enough to put a pure smile on one's face, even if only for a short time. Other things cause greater joy, but almost nothing else causes such intense momentary exultation. It was an exciting game, never mind the loss.

The loss was actually a bit of a comfort: hey, I ain't missin' nuthin' Broncos-wise this year. I'll catch the games on the radio when I can, but won't feel like I'm missing a season for the books if I don't.

The Shtinker gave some more, unrelated trouble today. As I pulled into the gas station, it died again. Now, I got angry; it was supposed to be fixed. I showed the guys there what the mechanics had done--replaced the timing belt and put a new seal on--and they said it was all done properly, so the problem was somewhere else. I even showed them the old seal, which I had in the back of the car in a baggie, and they said that yes indeed, it was necessary to replace. The guy then checked the oil, and saw it was dirty; he put some cleaner into both the oil and the gas tank, waited two minutes, and started the car up...and now the car runs so well that I'm not even sure we can call it the Shtinker anymore. I mean...it no longer Shtinks. I do hope that this is the last of the problems with the Shtinker.

Today has been a pretty average day. After the car was filled up I came to school and went to Arabic; I got my homework done in time for class, but not well enough to know it when class actually started. That was okay, though; I sat in the back and was mostly ignored by the teacher. Not something I want to make a habit of, seeing as how I actually want to learn the language.

I then drove to the gym and had a really hard workout; it's tough for me to lift my arms to the point where I can type. Elana and I are both looking and feeling healthier here. Must be something they don't put in the water. In another hour I have State and Society in the Medieval Islamic World, which is so far the most interesting of the classes I am taking for credit. I did the reading (something I got by without a lot at Brandeis, but which I have resolved to take seriously here), and am ready to offer a few astute observations. But it will be a long day; the class doesn't end until 6. My schedule being what it is, I'm heading to the cafeteria for some victuals.

Oh...and there goes the call to prayer again.
- posted by @ 12:30 AM

 
Tonight I am taking a night off from work. I don't have much homework, and it's all in Arabic anyway; I'm going to do it tomorrow. Besides, tonight has been all about treats, and I aim to keep it that way.

The first treat was walking with Elana to Emek Refa'im (literally "Valley of Ghosts"), the hip area of town, for a Shawarma. Obviously we can't eat at restaurants, but we've found a really good falafel stand (that of course serves Shawarma) with extremely fresh vegetables and breads. We've eaten there twice, and it was delicious. The weather was beautiful in Jerusalem today, and perfect for a stroll. So that was treat number one.

Treat number two came when I made the decision that I would take the night off from work. I have worked very hard the past week and a half or so, and had other stressors, as well, not the least of which was the car breaking down (it drove fine today, by the way). So, I am sitting at the dining table on the wireless network, and Elana is hooked up at the desk, and we have a team-up game of CivIII going. I had planned for treat number three--waking up early in the morning to watch the Broncos whoop the Patsies ("Mr. President! Some patriots are in trouble! Better sound out the National Guard. Don't worry! HELP IS ON THE WAY!") and got treat number three early. I flipped through the channels to find a commercial confirming that the game would indeed be on, starting at CNN and heading towards ESPN, and on the way passed a very familiar pair of voices: John Kelly and Peter McNab, the Avs' play-by-play guys. I was getting the tape of last nights' 3-2 overtime win against the New York Rangers. As it happened, the 3rd period was just starting, and I got to watch the Avs storm back and win the game. It was a little slice of home, which made me feel great. I continued on to ESPN, and they were showing some skating championship from the Crossroads Mall in Boulder, and showing all sorts of familiar mountainscapes. And the game will indeed be on here at 4 AM. I get to be a true fan and watch from around the world. All I can say is, Danny Kanell, starting at QB? Please.

On Saturday, Elana made a huge meal, and its been feeding us all week. Chicken soup (the real kind), cutlets, everything...It's all been delicious. So that has helped put me in a good mood, and the last few days have had a very optimistic feel to them.

I did have a musing today, that I want to share. As I was walking toward the car at the end of the day, I heard, loud and clear, the Islamic call to prayer from this Arab village. It underscored something my mind had hinted to me, but which had not really fully developed into a thought yet.

This will force you to think about geography a bit, so if you don't want to, by all means skip ahead. The Israeli territory approaching Jerusalem is a corridor; that is, if you are driving east from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, you pass through a section of land--assuming that your car doesn't break down--that is directly north and directly south to what will inevitably be Palestine. Mount Scopus is in an Israeli section of the city--the difference between East and West Jerusalem, as you can see from the website, is marked. But the hill juts out over and above Arab East Jerusalem and Arab villages to Jerusalem's northeast. So there I was, on the top of a mount that was jutting out into culturally Arab land, in a city which is only connected to the rest of Israel by a narrow corridor and which is holy to all three literary religions.

As I looked east, I thought about geography. That direction lay the occupied territories, then Jordan, then Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan and Pakistan, India, and eventually China; south of Russia, which is too big a political monolith (at least for the time being) to count in this particular observation, the Arab/Islamic world and then Asia.

The East.

Israel, of course, is a western country...more western than some European countries, even. But in the Middle East, it is the only one; none of the surrounding countries even come close. Turkey has an outside shot perhaps. Greece is. But Israel, geographically, is the easternmost Western country. And I was even, as I've said, on the edge of that.

But this boundary I speak of is more than just geographical. It's cultural. After all, culture is what differentiates between an "Eastern" and a "Western" country. Universities in the United States like to boast of their diversity. But nowhere in the United States can you look fifty meters down the hill and think, "Those people truly think differently, and so do most people in that direction." It's very exhilarating. And it occurred to me in that moment, as I heard the call to prayer, that I was in the last Western University. I looked out down the hill and knew that there, the Universities were Eastern, religious, and not at all the centers of learning to which I am accustomed. Here on the edge, the studies I have undertaken take on a palpable flavor. Hearing that call to prayer during an Arabic quiz (I can now say, "Where are you, O my daughter? I am in Abu Nabi'il's house. There are figs, berries and olives in Abu Nabi'il's house;" again, difficult to use in polite conversation) is almost startling. It's as if someone is underscoring my academia with mood music, lighting, and an intricately realized background of The East: and may I say, the designers are doing an outstanding job.

Elana had a similar thought about JSS: it is the only school of its kind (a Renaissance inspired, atelier-style program) in Israel; indeed, in the region. We're both of us on the edge of the familiar world here, and that is inspiring to both of our studies and our lives.

So what are we doing here, on the precipice? Right now, we're playing Civilization III over the wireless network, and getting ready to go to bed, so I can be up early to catch the Broncos game on digital cable.

We are still in the West, after all.
- posted by @ 9:33 PM

 
The website is updated. Some new pictures are up, so check it out at your convenience.

A lot has happened in the past two days, so I'll give the short version of that story of bureaucracy. Basically, we've been trying to get the car switched to our names for weeks, but the Licensing Authority has been (and continues to be) on strike. But we went to the post office, under the assumption that we could do it there...but no, because we had a passport rather than an identity card, we had to do it at the Licensing Authority. This was after we raced (safely of course...) to the post office and got in two minutes before it closed, at noon. We did get to meet Shaul's father and niece, who were both great, and I talked on the phone to my friend Dan, Shaul's son, who sounds the same as he did when we were close in elementary school. I'm excited to see him again (hopefully this week) and for he and Elana to meet in person.

Of course, the wind for the story was sort of taken out of my sails when the Shtinker decided to nap on the highway. The two mechanics who helped us out have fixed the car, and they drove it back. Since they didn't speak English, Shaul arranged the business end of it, and I would like to say that we got a great deal on the price of this work, especially considering they not only drove US home, but drove the car to us tonight. It's a relief to be mobile again; I took taxis between here and Hebrew U. today, and I'm glad that tomorrow I can go on my own schedule. Tomorrow I have an "ephes sha'ah" (zero hour--eight AM class) so soon it is to bed for us.

One thing, before I go to bed though...tonight, I baked my signature chocolate chip cookies for the first time here. I must say the achievement was mixed. The cookies are very tasty, but crumbly; there is too much sugar. So I put the batter in the fridge and will fix it up tomorrow. Still, not bad, considering I was baking for the first time without measuring cups, and the fact that our oven doesn't even have centigrade on it, but rather simply the numbers 1-10. When we moved in, I asked Micha if we could have one that goes to 11. He didn't get it (not that I blame him, of course). So, I set the dial to 6 1/2, and hoped for the best. Crumbly but tasty. Not bad for a first try...

Thank you to those of you who have written; it means a lot to us to receive emails, and it's certainly gratifying that you are reading (and seem to be enjoying) this blog. Take care, everyone; more tomorrow.
- posted by @ 9:23 PM

 
Today is November 1.

Today the Shtinker quit on us as we approached Jerusalem from Ashdod. Perhaps he felt too taken for granted; perhaps he was simply going along with the rest of Israel, which continues to be on strike. Despite our pleas, however, the Shtinker decided to leave us stranded on the middle of road 1 (a freeway) about five kilometers from the outskirts of Jerusalem, but nowhere too near anywhere civilized. At first, nobody stopped; then, all at once, too many people stopped.

First we thought we needed a jump start, but the first man, who had some knowledge of cars, said that it was a problem with the fuel injectors or fuel system or something, and we'd best call a tow truck. The second man who stopped had actually been going the other way on the highway, got off at the next exit, and turned around. He, as it happens, is a mechanic, and the opportunity to make a few shekels presented itself. He checked through the car, noted that the timing belt (or something) was frayed, and offered (through Shaul, who was on the cellphone translating) to drive us to our apartment, go back to his garage, get the part, and return to the car. Then, when the car was ready, he would drive it to us. At Shaul's suggestion, we agreed to this suspicious sounding arrangement (made less suspicious by the fact that he was willing to leave us his identity card as collateral, and that the cops had stopped off and taken down both of our license plate numbers). At home I tried to work but was too preoccupied...eventually, the mechanic called and said that the car could not be ready today; it probably overheated, he said, and may need a new seal. Shaul is involved and making sure we are not ripped off too badly, and the car will be ready tomorrow. Looks like a taxi for me when it comes time to go to class.

I was able to get a little work done after that, and now it's back to work for me. Elana, in honor of the Shtinker's defection, is cooking up a storm, and is, as she says, "finally learning to cook like a Yiddishe Baba;" we have no idea if, in the long run, this is a good thing or not. Watch our cholesterol levels go through the roof. Not really. I'd say if anything, it's our blood pressure that will need monitoring.
- posted by @ 4:28 PM