Amsterdam- the place.

We had the most AWESOME time ever here. Seriously we are crying that we are leaving. We met the most wonderful, interesting people on the planet- and after our hostel informed us that they were overbooked- put us in a private hotel room, and then ran out of reservations, we ended up staying in this little B&B owned by the sweetest Indian woman, who also happens to be a brilliant satare player. But this place....the bridges, the canals, the boats, the country-side- i am in love with all things Dutch.
We went to the Van Gogh Museum with our little new posse- it was incredible, I will not attempt to do justice in mere words. The beauty of this place moves me deeply- the simplicity, the art, the combination of country and city. Today Rose and I went to Zodjnik, a little village a train ride away. We fed cows there, climbed windmills, walked around REAL parks, its like a fairy land. There's even a chocolate factory there- the place smells like chocolate. I feel like i am in a dream.
Every place I have been in I can live. The small cottage on the hill in Zanchek, the quiet gray stone flat in Dublin, the color and magnificence of Paris. I can do this forever....there is so much out there ....
We stayed here for two nights and three days. Meeting exciting friendly and wonderful people. The standard culture here is so polite, pleasant and kind (minus the obvious exceptions), the people sweet and understanding to the way we butcher their street names. I swear, we stayed in a place that sounds like moving jello- Owledershaljk Vangerashk. Good luck trying to find that.
We went to the Portugese synagogue. It's quite the experience. Its hard to find because its set back, behind a facade of homes- but inside...the magnitude of the structure- the open rafters and delicate woodworkings are something.... nothing short but magnificent.
Yes- we are getting hungry, just in case you are wondering.
We are down to 8 granola bars- and are officially rationing the oatmeal and tuna- we rotate every other day eating lots of cucumbers (peaches here are a Euro 1/2) so we are sticking away from fruit till it gets cheaper.
We are not wasting away yet tho' another three weeks of this tho' and who knows? Maybe we can buy one museum entrance for the price of one... ;)
So what else? Hmm.... Anne Frank Huis, Rembrandt's Huis, Jewish Museum, the Big Museum here in Amsterdam (I am not bothering to spell it.) and of course the night time attractions.
Still, tho' we are again planning to stay here too, we move onward to Kobenhaven- where we hear there's food and have yet to find a place.

Thank you all for the comments- makes us stop at Internet points and communicate with others. Mama- stop singing Carmen San Diego :) (i hear it from here) singing is not the family forte, eh? ;) I just realized i haven't called home in about a week- i will (can almost promise) call before Shabbos- sorry your daughter is so blessedly...uhm... forgetful.
Chickitero Amigos.
Hinderella in Netherlanderella (the Dutch flag looks like the French in reverse)

shavuah tov everyone!
i am typing on a french ordinatuer; so i am not sure how this is going to come out:::

we LOVE Paris!!!! Seriously, i am moving here, its absolutely fantastque! we finished up our last day in Dublin by going to the Guiness factory, Trinity College, the Book of Kells, Grafton Street, etc, it was wonderful. we flew to Beuvais and then took a forty five minute bus ride to Paris. earlier we had realized that we would be in paris for the night so in Dublin airport we booked a hostel on one of those cool Irish internet phone thingies. Little did we realize the eventful evening in store for us.

It began when we met two American girls on the bus ride, they gave us metro directions to Eppinay Sur Siene the little suburb we were staying in that apparently no one in France ever heard of. we got down to the station bought tickets and thereùs big gate down the front, apparently the metro closes at twelve thirty; at the moment it was 12;40.
we had une probleme, i guess you could say.

WE headed to the bus depot on champ elesyes where we figured that we had to take a bus to chatlet. we got the bus at about 230 and changed to the one toward eppinay. NO ONE PAYS IN FRANCE for the bus they just all squish in like sardines; a half hour into the ride the bus breaks down; we wait one hour for another bus, bus comes, old man helps us find our hotel, we have no reservation. I THINK he felt so bad for us he gave us one, pretty dingy place but at 5am anywhere is great.*

next day went to the pletzel got some mangerie and lugged our backpacks for about 10 hours, shabbos comes in in paris at about 10, this is the longest shabbos of the year in france. people are SOOO nice here. what is it with the french stigma of snobbiness?

i am set to resolve this.....
we went to the Jewish musee, people invited us for shabbos... notre dame, arch de triomphe, tour de eiffel hier the Louvre, Latin Quqrter; Montmarte. we already decided to stay an extra day in Paris until Tuesday.

i love paris i love everything about it. the languague, the homes, the people, the sounds and scents.... i seriously want to move here... maman now that you read my blog you can get used to the notion of my move to France. Shabbos ended at 11 so Rose and I walked around all day, it was brilliant, its warm, humid, and its exactly the way i thought it would be. we love it here. we considered just staying here for the rest of our trip, but as our nonadic selves we will continue moving to Amsterdam soon, right now i contemplate my inevitable return to Paris....looking to do so with others or possibly significant other, i suppose paris makes us all romantique, eh?
bien sur mon amies, bien sur.

in dublin day 1

Dublin, Ireland
i think it's about 8am USA time/ 4:30pm Irish time
Before I was sitting on a monument on O'Connell Street, fueled by adrenaline alone. I barely slept on the plane, the flight was horrid...never fly Air Canada. Rose wasn't feeling very well and the seats were awfully cramped. Rose had the unfortune of sitting next to Down Windess...i'll leave no more painful descriptions ;)
Rose found a little baby behind us named Katie Rose, who's mother (white skinned, black hair) was with a Malaysian man- we are still debating if he could have been the child's father. hmm.
While my lovely partner rested up in the hostel i took the liberty of getting acquainted with my new home city. It's an interesting place, and being that i had no expectations i am not disappointed. It's beautiful weather here despite the persistent forecasts of rain. I fell like, as I walk up and down the streets, theat my mind is taking photographs, my eyes jolts of colour, my nose whiffs of scents, my ears sounds and the Irish burge- clips and glimpses of out wee time in Ireland. It's a flat city- not many tall buildings, bridges, our hostel is right near the Liffey, very pretty, i've already napped on a bench by the River. Lots of people are eating ice cream, particularly old men (i may ask one if i could take a pic of him) great big cones of dripping vanilla, it's actually kinda cute. There's an artist on a little quiet street i found that is suspended by a purple rope painting the front of his store while blasting Puccini- it is getting me in Euro mode. This place is filled with character...we met some Polish people who spoke to us in Yiddish/German here's how you say asparagus in Polish 'shparagah' why this is necessary, i do not know...but hey you never know....
i head to Temple Bar tonight (i was there this afternoon but apparently it is 'happening' at night with street fairs and tourists) we shall see.
over and out.
as always-
hin

In retrospect- the gut thing is a bit of a pun. i am having a day of utter indulgence- eating everything from ice cream, biscotti...its almost revolting.
Hey Eddie-How IS it going? Did Adam finally leave you for the Marines?! Truly, Acosta's class rocked, I swear the lady is going to be in a severe depression next semester without us- imagine Milton with the posse! ugh. (she also gave me an A ;) she must have appreciated our perpetual shtick-ness). I hope summer school isn't to bad - i am sure you are making do and are as cool as a groomed butterfly ;)...
Thank you everyone for the well wishes... truly, exhaustion can do funny things late a night. My backpack looks like it has a corpse in it... and I only fear i will come home in half. aye coramaba.
Anon- you are absolutely right. Spontaneity has to be spontaneous- willing for it right now... just going to go with the Flow... this is The Trip, outfit already reflects the...vivaciousness of the event.
I watched Bridget (again. again. again.) last night at 4am- just to get into character mode.will update in dublin.off i am.i insist on learning (cuz i abhor the taste) how to drink beer. i don't care if i have to pour a Guinness down my clothes....

12 hours until the Emerald Isle

i think it's time for an update- I've been feigning writer's block for too long.
(in my head for the past four days "that time of year thou mayst in me behold/
in me thou see'st the twilight of such day- as sunset fadeth in the west" a little Shakespeare sonnet about artistic death).
Tomorrow the big trip begins.... hard to describe what is floating in my mind right now. Lord knows i should be fast asleep, alas, the tension in my belly knots and twists. all that yoga breathing. voom! out the window.
this is the hard part. giving in to the abondon of the trip. succumbing to the spontaneity and even harder...trust that your gut will get you through 40 days and nights in foreign countries.
i wonder if i am trusting my intution to much.
i have to keep reminding myself that the appeal of this trip is the madness of it. the sheer youthful craziness and adult like responsibility that makes this trip worthwhile.
its adventure that takes trust. absolute trust in my partner, complete trust with my parents and most importantly a trust with myself.
as i grow more internal in my cyber meditation my room resembles a bizarre of junk. it's quite horrid. the only thing i am missing from the pile is a little chiawawa (as in the Taco bell dog) and a big straw hat...otherwise i think i got everything covered. incredible what paranoid Jewish mothers can convince you you will need (meet me in LaGuardia if youll be needing a 1000th packet of oatmeal or tuna). still, my parents are quite the bomb for both letting me and supporting me through this journey....(although my mother is convinced she must have lost her mind to allow this- of course it's my Dad- the closet Boheme that's totally in on this ;) )
so friends i leave you now-
perchance i'll come back to this blog tomorrow (flight time is at 3) or perchance not.
will try to keep this updated.
bon voyage.

http://www.freepsps.com/default.aspx?r=19066399
my brother asked me to post it- to be honest, i am not sure why...

italie- m'amour

initially i went to sleep early tonight... despite having Shine on DVD. To no avail. I cannot sleep. I toss , I turn, two books later, four different sleeping positions later, new pillows, old pillows, lavendar pillows...niente dormire...nada...nothing.... i hate it when i am tired, exhausted, need the sleep, and just can't get it. what's that poem... those sleep poems? The one by Daniels "sweet charmer sleep"... maybe i'll conjur up some potion of poetic boredom to de-engage my heightened senses...

In my sheer desperation i sign online to see who is up on the other side of the globe. There's nothign to do... no tests to study for (grades are in by the by- so now i don't even have stress to do), no trip to embark on (tho' i need to store sleep for tuesday)... what an odd odd hour to be up. In my nocturnal commune book there's a chapter on post 4 am. Basically the book tells you to give up trying and do something.... i am going to an early Bikram class- simply because the heat of the room will swoon me to sleep- i don't care if i rest through out the entire two hour session. I don't have the strength to perform my best- and I don't care.... i need to relax....breathe and maybe collapse in a room of 110 degree heat and sweat.

No one seems to be up. Creepily cyberspace is deserted- and I am already well underway in destroying all communications with any current diurnal sides of the globe. amazing how you could overcome all normal decorum in conversation and simply babble to complete strangers... horrible habit i've fallen into- one i am resolved to break.

Nights like these I wish I had cable, or a dog to walk, or a Connecticut Muffin on my corner to go buy early morning coffee adn the paper, a european cafe to brew me jet fuel espresso (aah, my 4 am dawns in Venice.... i miss it, i miss it) .... alas, none of these are readily available to me... amazing how highly intense day time could be.... life could be...schedule could be...and then suddenly at night... you wait. your body waits. your mind waits. for the sweet salvation of blissful rest- hours of endless quiet that the whole world slumbers thru... feels almost illegal to be up- like i should knock a frying pan over my head and force myself out of consciousness- not to be up in this hot, humid night..... the birds are already chirping- the sky's an electric blue- and I, tired, but used to this rather short-changed invigorating state- shall embrace the day... with, thankfully, ever present casks of body polluting caffeine...

listening to Abba with cold coffee and chicken sox

How could you start writing a post when "I look at all the lonely people" from the Beetles comes up on the radio- une signo de Dio? I want to visit Elenore Rigby's grave.... throw some rice on it...

my coffee has clumpy pieces of cinnamon floating in it, like little Boston Beans in my coffee...now i just grossed myself out... life suddenly becomes so wonderfully manageable with deliciously brewed coffee and chicken sox.
Chag was nice. As nice as excessive family time, panty house wearing in 90 degrees, and rich cheese cake could be. Tho' i must confess after Bikram, heat is a state of mind, your lungs can handle it if you psych yourself up with the proper breathing.
Today, I am going out to lunch with my Mama and Moo (out to lunch has to be an awkward statement), then I have my final piano lessons- I have to bribe Moo to go into the copy place for me to laminate my certificates (we'll see how much that will cost me)
well now, Sheryl Crow is a viable alternative... after that- I am thinking of having my portrait painted in Botanical Gardens- that sounds promising next to the Japanese garden.
I am having five parallel conversations: i am becoming a communication person!
I am wondering if I still think i will need that class in college (the one called Small Talk for Dummies and How to talk to New People)???
Thats it! I had enough! Would you all stop transfering your emotions.... stop taking the energies to different faces! take all that energy, all that frustration and:
1. plant a park
2. adopt a pet
3. build a ship
4. make a movie
5. help me figure out how to shoot Michael Jackson

Anyone want to visit the Rock n' Roll hall of fame? I am just thinking that would be fairly kewl to visit- as per suggesstion perhaps i should write: My Life: a bottle of Tide: sounds like a fabulous off-Broadway show...one that Rose and I would see either way.
right loves, must make myself lunch appropriate for Mom (which basically means chaning out of my red tye dyed skirt and blue T/ chicken sox/ and messy mop).
my butt is going square from all this sitting at the computer
i am going to put my treadmill in front of the screen...or at least my yoga mat....a meditationsal techie center- that's got to be the first.
embrace the Vertigo...
(shawna we're always kewl- i figured you're as bad as me with the ordinateurs...great convo- we established 1. we are both prudes 2. we both believe 3. we should get married and raise flocks of chickens- love you dear- we'll catch you again...)
now i am listening to Meatloaf- and I don't give a damn how retarded that is... yahoo! to blowing like the metal on the edge of the knife (what in G-d's name does that mean exactly...)

I like this suspension between cholent (gross.) and cheesecake (only my Bub's) to borrow from a noteworthy blog. It makes the week seem like one big Mardi Gras of celebration as when you finally do come around from gastrointestinal onslaught it is already Wednesday! And Rose and I leave Tuesday to Dublin... I

Shavuah Tov/ Chag Sameach

Hello everybody. A whirlwind of events in the past two days: concluded my English classes, piano lessons and other blah blah scheduled stuff. I've gotten a few (very eloquently formed) complaints in regard to the little philosophical posting going on (from one particular Neanderthal AOL user in NY)... hmmm...

Today was slightly insane, Yuda and I went to the Transit Museum (he lasted 14:03 sec) and I kidnapped the most delicious little boy on the face of the earth ... being that I am a non-Feminist, that my friends, undomesticated as I am, is the most delicious thing on earth- that little chocolate-eyed boy that claims my entire heart... After coming home and eating sushi from Yoss (sushi friend is vital) as picnic with Smirkie on the kitchen floor, proceeded to be conned into driving Moo to the mall to return shoes. Got stuck in the most splendid gush of rain and now resemble a wet, haggard, little meow. and look forward to collapsing into bed with some overdue library book (I am thinking 'finding time again' Marcel Proust)...or maybe some dog eared copy of a Patricia Cornwell mystery. Pops bought me summer gift- little slipper sox with hen and chickens on it. Firstly, because of my namesake children's book "Hindy the Hen" (it's traumatic). Secondly, cuz Pops is buying me a flock of chicks to raise in August, but I think it's mostly for the final reason- he's sick of telling me to go put on shoes and sox when i run around the house...

As per new unphilosophical topic- how about these:
a. keep my toe nails their current Fawn color
b. a series how to get successfully engaged in two weeks
c. debate the fact that Starbucks coffee stinks
d. present the first chapter of my book
e. present Princess Fergie's Sem expose called "Fat with a Back Pack"
f. therapeutisize myself over the fact that Rose has a gorgeous Mercedes-Benz and I don't (that would be for you mature folks out there)...

:) shabbat shalom

I am attempting to recover from my amebic state of Tide bottles and avocado eating island princesses Jrs... Funny, I thought it had to do with the frequency of blogging, but it doesn't. In proper conditions I could write in a fury of words, when not, I can go day after day staring at a screen convincing myself that paper and pen are my most mortal enemies. I am so tempted to get lost in a write up on Hume and Miracles, but I am forcing myself to leave the philosophical discussions to other blogs. It is so easy to blog/talk endlessly about philosophy (should we do that?) and even more than that (at least for me), literature and music. While we are discussing the great caps word Art (I agree with Lee on this point- when capsed it is pointless as are many of the isms...) the Brooklyn Film Festival is going on now at the Brooklyn Musuem of Art, schedule appears to be very promising. I'll have to check it out and then get back to you all.

Today, as I was returning from the library (it's national Russian month again) there was this old man in a red Honda Civic cruising down Eastern Pkwy at 25 mph. Drivers, as they are all perpetually in CAPTAIN PLANET mode are in such a hurry, swerved right and left, waving their hands madly in the humid air. The old man was not outwardly moved by these reactions and stayed steadfast on his scenic pace. Somehow the old man in the banged up car, reminded me of all things summer: Jack White, cold lemonade, hammocks, and tire swings. I was transported to a place without honking traffic, smog murdering cars, and pollutious noise...then halted by the garrish red of the traffic light. When did everyone get so insane? Why do we allow ourselves to get caught up in the insanity of this convuluted Reality? Not only that, but if you are not in the rat-race you are incompetent and in sore lack there of. Ugh. What horribly messed up principles of life. I say this as an adult, someone who lives in the rat race, works in the rat race, it is so easy to get pulled into the vortex and forget... so easy to forget it all...

I hope el Nino is treating you all kind- it's impossible to stay cool- so I'm gonna go soak up the sun :)

Greetings girls, boys, spiritual hobos, island princesses, holy nomads, cowgirls in need of cows, hair collectors, mad dreamers, furious sceamers, mystics of reality, magic bean buyers, perpeutal liars, heart worshipppers, work-a-holic poets, elusive musicians, holy ambassadors, sugarless souls, and of course, the Amazon women... wel-o-come new friends, old friends, uncertain friends, cautious friends, anonymous friends, wel-o-come to this little world of madness, laughter, nothingness, everythingness and of course communication. (Suppose my love for Shel Silverstein is now obvious?)

Recently, someone asked me why I don't write about philosophy, literature etc. on this blog open the forum to the cerbellum, medullum and cranium, expose my blog planet to the scandolous joy of discourse, dialogue and thought... I'll tell you why, wonderful and involved my mind is in all those glorious things (and I am desperately in love with them all) passions for knowledge are wonderful, fundamental, crucial to coming into Being and comprehending the state of Being- but the Being itself- the penetration of existence- that's where the passion is, that's where the life is, that's where life is, that's where the FUN is... :) If i could give out free souvenirs to my blog i would be handing out a spoonfulls of vanilla ice cream (as it's dreadfully, stifling hot out today- like my yoga studio turned inside out) and today i am cavorting (dreadfully un lady-like i suppose) with the realms of vanilla.

Blog abortion seems to be growing more popular, in fact it is a daily epidemic that is ever spreading. I have contemplated with the notion myself, I must confess I don't think I am truly heading in that direction... much as I love the drama of ceasing to exist i am fond of the colors and fonts-and Chana'le's image of a roller skating rink... hmmm... goes with my life philosophy (which changes daily as life does): Live Circularly- got to be open to all options... you never know when opportunity runs you over with a U-Haul truck- or i guess love for that matter... So no, this is not about discussing things we know nothing about- (i disagree with other blogs) its about life itself- which is everything tangled in one big clump of color (existence, drives, and tweedlydee all part and parcel to that great exploration)- if we wrote only about what we were certain of where would we be...why i'd only be able to share my tales of coffee brewing, hitch hiking, toast burning, insomnia and work. Ugh. How dreadfully boring. We all need escapee worlds and planets (i am the Little Princess of my world) and besides if we can't see thing through wild Elton-John like glasses- how dull and boring and routine life would be. If we couldn't imagine and argue about that imagination, if we couldn't think about things that are totally irrelavant (Shawna I refer to our deep conversation about the laughter of menapausing cows), unique and different, why we'd make the Matrix life look brilliant... So no, I don't write strictly what I am sure about, or on what I am positive I know about, or even anything Relevant to this great Predictable Reality- hell, who would??

So much energy brewing in me write now, I type this in a fury of fingers, and I am going to go running because today the tranquility of yoga is not going to exhaust me. And right now I need to be exhausted. I need to be exhausted and appeased for hurting friends, pretentious people, and fallen princesses.

Peace, love, happiness to you all- go to the light and stop thinking about the suburn.
:) bien jour!

Shavuah Tov and HOW TO CONTROL YOUR BLOG ADDICTION

Despite forecasts of rain, Shabbat proved to be absolutely lovely. In fact, I read a wonderful book that I highly recommend (tho' i've been told it's quite popular) called The Queen's Fool by Philippa Gregory. Reminds me vaguely of Noah Gordon's "The Last Jew" It's about a Murrano girl living in the England as a court jester blessed with the gift of Sight. In this world of mixed-up morals and confusing inclinations it's a refreshing read... as issues of identity are always prevalent.

Lee and I went for a lovely Shabbos afternoon stroll. My skin has been craving the sun all winter (for us olive tones it is fundamental to our health), finally, today the warm sun beamed down on us... I cannot help but wonder what the sun in Spain will feel like... We walked to the Museum and watched the local children play in the fountain. I was so tempted to lose myself in the raining waters (and I would have if not for my ridiculous shoes and clothes) the kids giggling, screaming and splashing with such abandon... truly we must never lose our childish innocence, 'tis the most tragic when we do, and perhaps the life-long aim to return to that state....(it was precisely from such reasoning that I was almost arrested in Rome when i chose to 'fall in' to the fountain in front of the former royal residence...hey, it was 114 degrees! :)

Enough of my philosophical mood- i reserve that for other blogs (of which i must say i was disappointed with the lack of response). This week I almost thought that I was sufferring from a blog addiction, indeed perhaps dearest friend Lee is right, and it all passes like a spring cloud, and like most afflictions whisps away... Still, blog addiction is rampant- here are the telling signs:

1. you check your blog and others more than four-five times a day
2. your fellow addict text messages you when you or some other blog receives new posts
3. you spend your Shabbos wondering who will respond and who will write :)
4. you discuss your blog and related topics on Shabbos
5. you debate whats written on blogs

Don't worry there's hope...what's the healing process, you ask??
1. admit you have a problem
2. plan a life without a blog
3. set a time to abort your blog (hmmm, prior to trip, post trip?)

Now for the funny excerpt of the week- here's a clip from Moo's Camp Emunah BJJ Teen Camp form (atrocious grammar- I am appalled- but here's the best of it)
Rule #6: "Shorts are not permitted in this camp at ANY time!! (including for sleepwear or at the pool.) For those needing it, camp will proved shorts at the pool, there will be a rental charge which will be returned to the camper when the shorts are returned!"
So i am compelled to ask... who do you think needs the shorts? :)

Right, I head to Greenwich now on the midnight train (unfortunately not to Georgia [tho' i'd love to visit Rose]) to bake Aleph Beis cookies for graduation tomorrow...

bella... bella...benne notte

:)

Glorious, Wonderful, Beautiful Day....almost :)

So I am going to type this up because I have about 45 sec. before my students get here...
Today was glorious, sun was shining, nice breeze...parfait. :) Sar- indeed we will soon be evicted from entropy-land... i feel it coming... :) luv you dear- i am stamping my forehead with your new gift (think Napoleon Dynamite II) :) kiss Nehama for me...

Being that this blog is more on the art of living, art of being, and plain old creative/artistic/random spirit, and not too much on the theological, philosophical, deleological, teleological, ideological issues feel free to check out tweedlydee.blogspot.com, and pnimi.blogspot.com for your divine needs... tho' i must shout out here that art is divine too... as in mi Creator ta Creator :) In my humble opinion you can't get closer to G-d than by tapping into that awesomeness and becoming a Creator yourself... (brava to all my elusive musicians, mad poets/word artists and crazy photographers!!!!)

Yumsters- you can certainly choose what city I will be in July 12th (only you cherie) though it's probable we'll be in Amsterdam (if Rosario and I aren't too distracted). And Peretz is the absolute bomb- I will be kidnapping you when you get here :) you are forewarned dear.

and to the long haired Hawaii cowboy :) - hon, you need some serious companionship (and Nehama and Sar won't do :) . And of course the island sun kissed waves- as do i- desperately. Must be tough to return to Jersey from Waikiki- I'll think of you on the beaches of Portugal. :) (tho' i hear you are returning next year- good for you!!)

I went into the city today... (i have a poem floating around somewhere about that) to lose myself in the crowds of anonymity and enjoy the beauty of the day. I love taking trains. More than anything else, they capture the quintessential spirit of NYC. As I sat there, bookless, I-pod less, I, as I tend to do, observe those around me. The beautiful, thin black man with the jazz hat, the well-dressed Wall St. (who looked extremely self-conscious- like he wanted to rip off his tie and strangle his boss with it) man pretending to be engrossed in a book on Clinton while really checking out the woman wearing black thongs with embroidered wedges (that resemble Chinese patterened canoes) :) Here's what books people were reading (it's how my selection is often inspired): the man next me was reading the Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison (been there. done that.), then the Art of Alfred Hitchock (that sounds promising), a Spanish dictionary, and finally something with a half naked woman on the cover (I am thinking a nisht.) the best was the Ghandi-spectacled, hairy man reading Miss Manners. Oh, i love laughing to myself.

and Ricko- here's to intimacy! an excerpt from my golden seminary days (literally i am holding my journal- i had to resurrect it from Purple Haze Land) I am waiting until the time zones work and then i whisk this off as j'ne se pas une poete- comprendes-tu?

shabat shalom friends... let the peace of Shabbat permeate your being... i go to Greenwich Motzei Shabbat to prepare for our Hebrew School graduation on Sunday.... but i'll try to keep up with all current blog stuff...

I bought a T-shirt today... it has the tour d'eiffel (uh... Eiffel Tower) on the front and it says "I see London, I see in France". You know your brain has completely rotted away if you buy yourself such a thing, when you're alone, in Target, surrounded by strangers.

So people voiced that we should blog our trip. Our first stop is Dublin... I have no idea why I so adamantly want to visit there. Ever since I read Leon Uris, W.B. Yeats, Joyce... I've had this overwhelming desire to see the River Shannon. How odd the things that strike our fancy, the imagination that compells us to act, the dreams that fuel what we are to do and become. In this vein of thought I'd like to promote following your dreams :).

We are so often told to "grow up" or my favourite "be realisitc". What is the definition of reality? What creates your reality? In the words of the great American poet Robert Frost "now I know for future hence,/ I took the road not taken and that has made all the difference". This is not about defining your 'indviduality' asserting your 'youth', what's the common lingo... to me [shoulder shrug.] it's simply about being You. And if that means singing on the top of your lungs as you fly down the 101 in San Francisco, surprising friends in Hawaii or eating peanut butter on carrot sticks, or drinking espresso in Copenhagen. Go for it. Follow it. Do it. Life can be no more fulfilling than you will it to be.

So many young people I meet (on campus, on the street, on the phone, online) are frustrated. Tired, angry, bitter, baseless emotions that account and metamorphosize into nothing. Regrets are pointless, they are simply the past crippling you in the present. Mistakes are as fundamental to learning as winning. Mistakes, erros and failures are insturmental to the creation and formulation of the Self. How many people out there fear looking honestly in the mirror? Engage in the introspection as a means of crippling torture and not personal growth? Why are any of us on this earth to wallow in pain and sorrow? Tragedy is often a matter of perspective (as my Mom often says "comedy is tragedy plus time") merely the precursor to a deeper joy. Do not fear the mirrors. It's important to know "thy self" to understand how you operate, how you feel. Do not throw it all away for white sugar and shoe sales...and to all of you out there that get lost in your midnight moon ballads and your crushing grief of the ills of the world- laugh a little and for G-d's sake- go buy yourself a vanilla ice cream cone... (i'll sponsor :)

We can embrace life, swallow it in great flavourful gulps despite its issues.

Are we ultimately entropies? Is our magic merely a measure of the disorderness or randomness in the closed system? Can we truly be, as all matter and energy in the universe, simply evolving into an inert state of uniformity? Suppose that's the rebell's great fear- that his rebelling is simple a conformity of rebellion. Falacious reasoning but true I am afraid. Precisely why this is not about 'rebelling' or 'dismissing convention' but finding a personal niche, and intimate artistic engagement in reality, a reality constructed piece by piece by your own hands.

namastei :) .

hindia.arie.