I love sarah silverman

This is hilarious, especially if you are jewish. Watch it!


The Great Schlep from The Great Schlep on Vimeo.

A day and a bad excuse in a few paragraphs (with far too many parentheses)

I kinda promised a post yesterday but I spent most of the day cuddled up in my room with the electric heater on. The heat in the house broke down. That is to say the heat worked, but the circulating pump (the pump that circulates the heat to the rest of the house - for those like me who aren't so mechanically inclined) decided to make the annoyingly loud sound as if a jackhammer was going off in the walls instead of circulating the heat as it is supposed to do (see previous parenthesis). To my good fortune the pump decided to start with the loud jackhammer-ish noise at approximately three o'clock in the AM. Waking up in a house sans heat (read: very cold) by the jackhammer of the circulating pump coming out of the heating vent instead of the heat I expected is quite possibly the worst way to wake up; ever (save some sort of horrific torturous experience involving toothpicks, super glue, hot sauce, and a digital camera).

I was so cold, and so very tired (I had to wake up early to drive a sibling to the train and then stay up in a stupor waiting for the heating repair man to arrive) I quickly curled back up into bed around 11:30 AM and fell promptly back to sleep until 2:30PM. I woke up cold and sniffling, head aching due to sinuses. The rest of my day was spent first in bed reading, a quick run to drive brother number two to the LIRR so he could get into Manhattan to pick up cookie dough he left in his dorm room fridge (also hang out with his friends); then back in bed where it was warm until my folks came home from an extended weekend away. Along with my folks came an unassembled entertainment center from Ikea I then assembled with the help of the first sibling who had since come home from work. By then it was warm in the house, but I was too tired to go online and fell asleep early to get to work on time to open the Starbucks this morning.

It wasn't a very busy day yesterday, but it was one that was the quite the opposite of being conducive to writing.

Chanukah (or Hanukah, or whatever - I never know how to spell it in English, so Amber, you're one up on me) is going fine I guess. Received no presents so far, but did not expect any. We aren't a big present giving family. The only reason presents are exchanged on Chanukah is due to its proximity with Christmas Jews wanted to get gifts too. Ever since Rebecca (Roni's Girlfriend - Roni being a brother of course) mentioned to my mom that she buys her folks a gift, my mom has been dropping a few hints. Thus, the four of us (from oldest to youngest: Me, Hillel, Roni, and Asaf) all chipped in and purchased them (the parental units) an ice cream maker. We figured it's a gift that they would enjoy (they do) and something we could partake from as well. They way I figure it's far better than a bowling ball with "Homer" inscribed on it (anyone who gets that is just as big as a dork as I am - so there).

The sweet spicy smell of hot sweet potato Latkes (for those of you who speak Yiddish), Levivot (for those of you who speak Hebrew) potato pancakes (for those of you who speak neither Yiddish nor Hebrew) that my father has made is slowly wafting its way to my desk. Hence I shall sign off here, sweet potato latkes and home made ice cream are both in my immediate future. Take care kiddies.

Post script: I saw The Chronicles of Narnia and my review will be posted on TheNoyse.com as soon as I write it. I'm just a lazy bastard.

for your edification

I just posted the newest chapter of A Symphony of Sweets on my Fiction Blog. I know techinically I'm late but I'm bending the rules just because of the holidays. this month is filled with Jewish Holidays that just slam into you one right after the other. First Rosh Hashana, the new year, two days long. Ten days later Yom Kippur, the day of repentance, one day long. Five days after that, Sukkot, a harvest holiday, eight days long (though only seven in Israel - I'm not going to get into the detials of jewish law here, just trust me on that). The final two days of Sukkot (In Israel just the last day) are holidays within a the holiday. Shmeeni Atzeret (to be honest I'm not quite sure what the deal is, with this one, I think it has to do with rain and such) and Simchat Torah.

Simchat Torah is actually a pretty fun holiday. A chapter of the Torah (five books of moses) is read every week during saturday morning services. Simchat Torah is the day of celebration when we finish the last chapter of the Torah, then start all over again for the new year. It's as big deal. Big party. In your sunday best (for jews I suppose it's our saturday best) you go to synogogue, hear the first and last chapter of the torah, then everyone dances and sings and gets drunk. As the way the jewish calendar works each day actualy starts at sunset so the holiday starts in the evening. As such the biggest party is in the evening. Some streets in Manahattan actually close to traffic so the Jews can empty from the synogogues dancing with the torahs and each other and singing mostly jewish folk songs and such. The drinking is done before, after and during.

So I'm not complaining that there are so many holidays, just that they come with such quick succession It's hard to get any work done. That's why the posting of the newest chapter is a bit delayed this week.

For those wondering Simchat torah starts this Tuesday night, so if you're bored this tuesday, regardless whether you are Jewish or not, you might want to check out what the local synogogue is doing. Services are always free as are drinks (though said drinks are usually schnapps of some sort and or Manashevitz wine). That's what I'll be doing anyway.

Happy holidays.

me being me

I'm behind in my plans, slacking, basically just being myself. I am co-writing a short script with some guy in England and we are working entirly over e-mail. The final work is due on Halloween and I haven't even written the first draft yet to send to him to retool. I have to get on that. I also said that I'd update my online novel A Symphony of Sweets weekly, yet I haven't updated it this week yet. That means if I don't write the next chapter today I've already failed my own expecations and goals. So, today, I shall write the next chapter and it will be posted before sunset eastern standard time on my other blog. Why before sunset? Because that's when I turn into a horrid bloodsucking beast from beyond the grave. That, and it's when shabbat (the sabbath) starts and computer usage is a no-no on the shabbat.

I fasted yesterday for Yom Kippur, and today (with out going too much into detail) my stomach and bowels are exacting their revenge for being so horribly neglected. If only I could convince them that it was not neglect rather a spriritual necessity. Alas, my bowels are not spritual by nature and mock my attempt at purity (my stomach just chuckles, always cowtowing to peer pressure from my other organs).

In other news some investment company or something like that saw my resume on Monster and left a message on my machine to schedule an interview. I need the interviewing practice so I shall call them back, but I am a bit scared as the only companies who have found my resume without my prompting seem to be the same companies who want to suck my soul out of my body through my nose (always through the nose, I can think of other places I'd prefer them to suck my soul out through, but it's not very polite mention such things in mixed company). I can't imagine this investment company is much different as I have absolutely no experience in money managment or investing. I figure it's like all the others and they are some sort of direct marketing firm, or want me to cold call people to sell bad investments. I shall schedule an interview none the less because beggers can't be choosers.

So, uh, carry on then....

Edit 5:30 PM
I have now uploaded the newest chapter ( Prelude part two) and it is available for your viewing pleasure. It's not as good as I want it to be, but as I concieved and wrote it in an hour I don't think it's that bad.

Passover outside of Neverland (not related in any way to Michael Jackson)

I've learned a few things from my grandmother during our brief stay here in New York for the holiday. 1)I don't know my way around a kitchen because she's been cooking longer than me. 2)All black men beat their spouses. 3)All arabs smell funny (not the best site, but I'm too lazy to look for a better one). 4)English should be the national language and those who don't speak it be damned. I don't speak to my grandmother often, and the aforementioned lessons reminded me why. There isn't too much else I learned from my grandmother save this one last bit, which floored me.

She was trying to go over my family tree and perhaps it was just due to the dementia (not an insult, simply the technical term for her current mental faculties) she inadvertently led me to believe that I have cousins who married each other (she was unclear as to whether they were blood relations or not). Maybe it's legal, maybe it isn't. Either way something about that isn't kosher. Sure I laugh when I watch George Michael pine after his cousin on Arrested Development, but now the jokes strike a little closer to home. Ewwww.

When discussing these cousins my grandmother went on to say that they are such nice people and it's a shame their kids grew up to be such free thinkers. This is one of the biggest yet politest insults my grandmother could come up with: free thinkers. Because there is nothing worse than a free thinker. Sure these kids live on a commune and are probably living some sort of grungy hippy lifestyle, one of which I probably would not be so comfortable living myself, but out of all the ways to rebel this is one of the most peaceful. This commune, she confirmed, is not one belonging to any cult or crazy religious faction, just a bunch of "free thinkers" living together on the land. I was almost disappointed when she said how great of a guy I am, not like those "free thinkers." Sure I may be a vegetarian ("What do you mean you don't eat meat? That's just not healthy." This coming from the same woman who complained there wasn't any shmaltz in the chopped liver) but that can be forgiven.

Scratch that, I am disappointed. I don't go out of my way to show how different I may be, I am what I am. I always kinda hoped, however, that I'd stick out just a little. I am a bit odd, my name amongst my friends usually turns into an adjective ("that's such an Amichai thing to do" used when I make a fool of myself usually by bumping into something or tripping over myself, both physically and verbally). My clothes most often don't match, though that has less to do with an intentional aesthetic and more to do with the fact that I am color blind. I never stick out of a crowd but I never quite fit in either. This disappointment quickly washes away as I realize not being a "free thinker" may be the least of my worries because someday I am going to die (say it isn't so, I can't stand it).

It's true, and though the mere thought of death sends me into a panic attack (one panic attack about my own mortality once forced me to take an early lunch at work, I nearly hyperventilated - and I'm only 24) I shall continue. I know I'm going to die because my grandmother is going to die. I don't think she's going to die anytime soon, but the more I sat and talked with her the more I realized she really is of a different generation. I always knew this conceptually, but I can count the amount of times I've actually sat down and talked to her on one hand making this concept easier to ignore. She dropped out of college to help work for the war effort for christ sake. The most I can really say is I dropped out of a cultural criticism course in college because I spent a semester getting stoned thus lacking the mental capacity needed to comprehend the readings assigned. She is of an older generation solidifying me as part of a younger generation I have never really identified myself with. But once you are part of a generation you know there will come a time when that generation will end. Soon all those alive during world war two will be gone. Hence, someday I too am going to die.

I realize all this during Passover, the holiday when all Jews are supposed to think of ourselves as if we personally left the bondage in Egypt. This one particular idea strikes me as being particularly bogus, especially after the horrid but inevitable conclusion that my life has an expiration date. The Jews who left Egypt (if they ever really existed in the first place) are now the oil under the Sinai desert. The only real bondage I'll ever have to deal with is the repayment of my student loans (which is not the same sort of pressure as building the pyramid, but still horrid in a different sort of way). If anything I'd prefer to think of myself as the generation of Jews who enter Israel after 40 long years in the desert. But that is really neither here nor there.

As I neither exodused from Egypt or received the land of Israel crossing through the waters of the Jordan river split in twain (when it comes to crossing bodies of water God is a one trick pony) Passover seems a bit silly. I have to admit, however, it is my favorite holiday. It gives me hope that one day I'll be visiting my potential grandchildren, sitting in their parents living room, boring the crap out of them as my grandmother did to me, forcing them to realize they are just as mortal as I am.

Those unsuspecting suckers.