Do you know how real life can start feeling stuffy? Blogs can too.
Goodbye... I think.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Friday, April 3, 2009
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Labels are for Shirts*
I have a tendency to get over-excited about things. Now I'm sort of bored of Sabar's Hebrew class... surprisingly, I think I should be in the advanced or conversational Hebrew course. (My Israeli friend has been trying to convince me I underestimate myself all too often. Ppgh... Ya, I'm not sure what that's supposed to sound out either.) But I think I'm gonna just stick it out... I won't die if I take the easy way out for once, right?
Plus, it isn't so bad being in a class with so many grad students and being well ahead of them.
* The title was a quote meant to go along with something else I wanted to post. I liked the quote too much to leave it out.
Plus, it isn't so bad being in a class with so many grad students and being well ahead of them.
* The title was a quote meant to go along with something else I wanted to post. I liked the quote too much to leave it out.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
I'm Stuffed
Another weird day.
A few of us had pizza delivered to class. We then sat there with a large box waiting for break... and then we sat outside on the floor by a construction site and devoured it.
One of the classes was history of Jewish women. Interesting enough, right? Wrong. Somehow it turned into a kallah class when several boys took incredible interest in the mikveh... and all the things that go along with it. One girl felt compelled to explain it all (awkward, anyone?), and I decided to stare off into space and dream of break (it's a three-hour discussion) when I could jump at the pizza.
Now, in standard Torah-style, I'm continuing in non-chronological format: The professor wanted all of us to introduce ourselves. This isn't standard procedure*, and I'm assuming some of the students felt the need to humor her. One boy announced, "My name is ____... and I am a Jew." Another said, "I'm in this class because I take great interest in Jewish women." Right, so you sorta had to be there. It wasn't the serious academic environment I was hoping for, but, hey, we could use some roll-over laughter I suppose.
*She's a visiting professor, and also perhaps quite new at the whole professor thing.
A few of us had pizza delivered to class. We then sat there with a large box waiting for break... and then we sat outside on the floor by a construction site and devoured it.
One of the classes was history of Jewish women. Interesting enough, right? Wrong. Somehow it turned into a kallah class when several boys took incredible interest in the mikveh... and all the things that go along with it. One girl felt compelled to explain it all (awkward, anyone?), and I decided to stare off into space and dream of break (it's a three-hour discussion) when I could jump at the pizza.
Now, in standard Torah-style, I'm continuing in non-chronological format: The professor wanted all of us to introduce ourselves. This isn't standard procedure*, and I'm assuming some of the students felt the need to humor her. One boy announced, "My name is ____... and I am a Jew." Another said, "I'm in this class because I take great interest in Jewish women." Right, so you sorta had to be there. It wasn't the serious academic environment I was hoping for, but, hey, we could use some roll-over laughter I suppose.
*She's a visiting professor, and also perhaps quite new at the whole professor thing.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Louder and Slower; and Tired of Sleeping
What a day.
First off- anyone else here ever wake up in the middle of the night and wish it were morning already because they're tired of sleeping? This usually happens if I go to sleep at 9 or 10 for whatever reason. I went to sleep at 11 (still early, but okay) and was up at 1:15 (a.m.) bored of sleeping. Typical, but... huh.
Enough with the small talk. Sabar. This morning. I. Saw. Sabar. My heart thumped when he walked in. (It's never done that by seeing anyone remotely cool- not even Matisyahu. I'm a creep. But I really think it was more the fact of being stared at by everyone and less he himself that caused it, so let's deduct some of those creep points thankyouverymuch.) I'm not sure I care much for the class- it's just Hebrew- so I don't know if I'm going to continue with it. The class was about 12 kids, all of whom knew each other since they've been taking the preceding sections of this class together all year. It felt like I was the new kid in high school... they were all staring. It's not the sort of thing that works for someone like me- I generally strive to blend in with the wall. Sabar walks in- thick accent- and says, "There are two new kids here." Apparently he had seen the roster earlier. He spotted me before I knew what was going on. Errrr, if I knew I'd get this much attention from being in the class I would've never been there. Then- this would've normally been a horror story, but I think I've outgrown myself (ya, hehe), because I've suddenly been having an incredibly easier (though still dopey) time speaking in front of people- he called on me to read and translate. First, though, he looked at me intently and made several attempts to pronounce my name. (English name, people.) I smiled at him and allowed him to settle on "A-lina"... it's the closest any Israeli can get to it, apparently. Then, "Louder and s-l-o-w-e-r." Er, right. No. Then, end of class he asked me and New Guy to talk to him. After making sure I was clear on the subject he then says, "And remember, louder and slower." As though I couldn't understand English, he repeated in Hebrew, "You're Israeli? Louder and slower. Louder and slower."
Dudey, I love him. Enough to dedicate a whole long incoherent, childish-sounding paragraph to him. I sorta want to stay, even though the laws of low confidence (even when that shouldn't be the case considering the old Asian lady sitting next to you knows much less, and even though he is telling you to please. slow. down.) say I should get out. Out? In? Only time will tell.
Andalusian literature- Stoked... Ooh, forget that sentence. I just got two rejection letters. I'm not feeling bad- relieved is really the word- but I hate being surrounded by pity at the moment. Boofreakinhoo, ya I had amazing grades so what gives.
Italian Jewish history- teacher is a pants wearing shomer shabbat woman. Class postponed on pesach. I love her already.
Tomorrow brings more. And then I have to decide on which class I'm dropping and my final schedule.
I don't even feel like writing anymore about tonight's Hebrew School Moment. Ya, I named it... actually, you'd have to fill in "Hebrew School" with the name of the school... and I'm still rambling... this blog has turned into a real ramble these days (reflection of the brain). Right. I got there- in a rush from my last class (should I drop that one then?)- only to see kids wild outside. No teacher there but for one security guard. Doors locked. Bell ringing loudly from inside without taking a breath. Student shows me how to get in (my arms were waaay thinner than his) without using a key. Got in- bell still going, can't stop it, eventually fixed, so whatever. The rest of the day remained wild. And, at one point, I had one lanky kid making a confused face when I was telling him what to do and repeating everything I said in question form. Eventually I laughed. Shame on me.
Good times.
First off- anyone else here ever wake up in the middle of the night and wish it were morning already because they're tired of sleeping? This usually happens if I go to sleep at 9 or 10 for whatever reason. I went to sleep at 11 (still early, but okay) and was up at 1:15 (a.m.) bored of sleeping. Typical, but... huh.
Enough with the small talk. Sabar. This morning. I. Saw. Sabar. My heart thumped when he walked in. (It's never done that by seeing anyone remotely cool- not even Matisyahu. I'm a creep. But I really think it was more the fact of being stared at by everyone and less he himself that caused it, so let's deduct some of those creep points thankyouverymuch.) I'm not sure I care much for the class- it's just Hebrew- so I don't know if I'm going to continue with it. The class was about 12 kids, all of whom knew each other since they've been taking the preceding sections of this class together all year. It felt like I was the new kid in high school... they were all staring. It's not the sort of thing that works for someone like me- I generally strive to blend in with the wall. Sabar walks in- thick accent- and says, "There are two new kids here." Apparently he had seen the roster earlier. He spotted me before I knew what was going on. Errrr, if I knew I'd get this much attention from being in the class I would've never been there. Then- this would've normally been a horror story, but I think I've outgrown myself (ya, hehe), because I've suddenly been having an incredibly easier (though still dopey) time speaking in front of people- he called on me to read and translate. First, though, he looked at me intently and made several attempts to pronounce my name. (English name, people.) I smiled at him and allowed him to settle on "A-lina"... it's the closest any Israeli can get to it, apparently. Then, "Louder and s-l-o-w-e-r." Er, right. No. Then, end of class he asked me and New Guy to talk to him. After making sure I was clear on the subject he then says, "And remember, louder and slower." As though I couldn't understand English, he repeated in Hebrew, "You're Israeli? Louder and slower. Louder and slower."
Dudey, I love him. Enough to dedicate a whole long incoherent, childish-sounding paragraph to him. I sorta want to stay, even though the laws of low confidence (even when that shouldn't be the case considering the old Asian lady sitting next to you knows much less, and even though he is telling you to please. slow. down.) say I should get out. Out? In? Only time will tell.
Andalusian literature- Stoked... Ooh, forget that sentence. I just got two rejection letters. I'm not feeling bad- relieved is really the word- but I hate being surrounded by pity at the moment. Boofreakinhoo, ya I had amazing grades so what gives.
Italian Jewish history- teacher is a pants wearing shomer shabbat woman. Class postponed on pesach. I love her already.
Tomorrow brings more. And then I have to decide on which class I'm dropping and my final schedule.
I don't even feel like writing anymore about tonight's Hebrew School Moment. Ya, I named it... actually, you'd have to fill in "Hebrew School" with the name of the school... and I'm still rambling... this blog has turned into a real ramble these days (reflection of the brain). Right. I got there- in a rush from my last class (should I drop that one then?)- only to see kids wild outside. No teacher there but for one security guard. Doors locked. Bell ringing loudly from inside without taking a breath. Student shows me how to get in (my arms were waaay thinner than his) without using a key. Got in- bell still going, can't stop it, eventually fixed, so whatever. The rest of the day remained wild. And, at one point, I had one lanky kid making a confused face when I was telling him what to do and repeating everything I said in question form. Eventually I laughed. Shame on me.
Good times.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
What N. Said
I memorized the first line of Shema.
I said the first paragraph.
I did this before my drivers test. I got my license.
Forget how frustrating some parts of my job could be (mostly, my boss)... these kids rock.
I said the first paragraph.
I did this before my drivers test. I got my license.
Forget how frustrating some parts of my job could be (mostly, my boss)... these kids rock.
Disney Movies are Full of Sexual Innuendos
Places I have a sudden odd urge to visit:
England
Alaska
Iceland
Things on my fake to-do list:
Roadtrip through the Pacific Coast Highway.
Annoying remarks:
So are you dating? What are you looking for? Will you cover your hair?
No, I plan on becoming a nude artist and marrying the guy who paints me best.
(Yes, I'll probably get up tomorrow morning, remember this, and go red with humiliation for posting this comment for the unknown public to see. My alibi: It's 1:48 am. Go away.)
Making good impressions at the Friday night Shabbat table with two Bais Yaakov girls present:
Sister- "I hate Disney movies."
Girl #1- "Why?"
Sister- silence "uh... because they're stupid."
Awkward silence.
Then, laughter at juvenile comment.
Unnecessarily feeling bad for sister, I felt compelled to save the day. Wait... what's that? Did Rachel say "save"? Ha....
"Disney movies are full of sexual innuendos."
Uh, hi, my name is Awkward. (In my own defense- They never heard of Kurdistan, so let's all roll our eyes together. Okay... or at me.)
Tonight: Bought linseed oil. Refined linseed oil. Paint. Then decided to go to the foreign theater next door on a whim. Slumdog Millionaire.... Foreign? Whatever. Four people in theater (including friend and me). Reeked of stale popcorn, stale toes (of course), and old white people. It was more fun than I'm allowing for it to sound here, really.
And now this sieve of a post leaves us with this final thought:
Monday... beginning of last quarter. Just a fact, no current thoughts on the matter, except for the intense need to extend vacation a bit longer.
England
Alaska
Iceland
Things on my fake to-do list:
Roadtrip through the Pacific Coast Highway.
Annoying remarks:
So are you dating? What are you looking for? Will you cover your hair?
No, I plan on becoming a nude artist and marrying the guy who paints me best.
(Yes, I'll probably get up tomorrow morning, remember this, and go red with humiliation for posting this comment for the unknown public to see. My alibi: It's 1:48 am. Go away.)
Making good impressions at the Friday night Shabbat table with two Bais Yaakov girls present:
Sister- "I hate Disney movies."
Girl #1- "Why?"
Sister- silence "uh... because they're stupid."
Awkward silence.
Then, laughter at juvenile comment.
Unnecessarily feeling bad for sister, I felt compelled to save the day. Wait... what's that? Did Rachel say "save"? Ha....
"Disney movies are full of sexual innuendos."
Uh, hi, my name is Awkward. (In my own defense- They never heard of Kurdistan, so let's all roll our eyes together. Okay... or at me.)
Tonight: Bought linseed oil. Refined linseed oil. Paint. Then decided to go to the foreign theater next door on a whim. Slumdog Millionaire.... Foreign? Whatever. Four people in theater (including friend and me). Reeked of stale popcorn, stale toes (of course), and old white people. It was more fun than I'm allowing for it to sound here, really.
And now this sieve of a post leaves us with this final thought:
Monday... beginning of last quarter. Just a fact, no current thoughts on the matter, except for the intense need to extend vacation a bit longer.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
This is what it takes to entertain me during spring break:
Friend studied last year in Oxford.
.
Visited her today.
.
Somehow, a small bundle of British currency became a point of interest/amusement/entertainment for us. (I took a look at one coin sitting in front of me and got overly-excited to discover 'twas a "pence.")
.
Pictured above is British money... the pence and the pound. (Yes, 'tis more than just the mythical object we hear of in classics.)
.
Anyone else have that funny accent starting to itch in the back of their throat? The pence and the pound. (Accent that entire last sentence on "the pound." Crescendo.)
.
Heh, those British are cute.
.
On the back of the pound- well, the pound pictured above at least- is Darwin. Yes, Darwin. Mmhmm, that Darwin. Ya, I don't get it either.
.
Okay, I'm done with the mockery. They do have cuter money than us. Heehee.
.
Check out what's written on that note: "Bank of England: I Promise to Pay the Bearer on Demand to the Sum of Ten Pounds." (You know that's cute.)
.
Friend says their money is even more user friendly for blind people. Huh.
.
And it's colored... properly (i.e. matching hues)... not like the new rainbow-like U.S. bills.
.
Huzzah for the pence!
This is how it went...
The bus driver was a creep. He thought he was dropping us off at LAX. I then had to print out the correct directions for him. He mad-dogged all my kids the entire ride over. He pulled over to the side of the freeway to yell at them- I know they didn't deserve it. He parked behind the hotel- insisting he couldn't go to the parking lot (*lazy*)- and I had to make a confusing treck around a large hotel with 50 students on my own.
Oh, and...
Er, um, the bus was mistakenly a one-way ticket. This we found out at 11:00 pm.
50 kids had to be sent off with separate cars as the guests volunteered rides home.
I'm not particularly pleased with my boss either.
Other than that... went well. :)
Oh, and...
Er, um, the bus was mistakenly a one-way ticket. This we found out at 11:00 pm.
50 kids had to be sent off with separate cars as the guests volunteered rides home.
I'm not particularly pleased with my boss either.
Other than that... went well. :)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
