_i’m just a fruit(cake)

a whole case of plums rolling down bezalel street in jerusalem.

right under my house. it’s a pleach.

_cdr-y785

i found this playing card in the street (emek refa’im, jerusalem), do any of you guys speak arabic? what does it say? i’m so curious!

_i’m just a tree

my roots are with her, but my leaves are with thee

this week:

i redeemed the green curry.

my new rice cooker rocks my world.

saw sex and the city.

cried.

opened a google home page.

rssd a couple of cool blogs.

like this one

did grafitti with a*.

said hello and said goodbye.

_a perfect fri. nite

j, a, popcorn, volver, thai soup, too spicy, then not spicy enough.

_jessa looking forward

i’m looking forward. to nothing in particular. a week in the snow. soup. bread. a moment to myself. maybe i’ll finally read the ends of the books i started. catch my breath.

_someone’s mother

_changes in the house (change is in the house)

_inventory

(this is not a drawing of a. who is young and beautiful, whereas this lady is old and sad).

j. (who is young and beautiful and sad) tells me she feels like a ghost. says she feels like a guest in her own life. we’re in a cab on the way to the mall, where she can truly be happy. i want to make her happy.

r. is speaking of change. says he feels it slowly, like an avant garde movie. we’re sharing a semi flat tuborg, wrapped in a security blanket. i’m glad some things don’t change.

a. is back to point a. with s. once removed. it doesn’t seem to make any sense, but i can understand why he’s doing it.

j.j. is still an orange dot. i can wait.

_breaking promises

“be the change you want to see in the world”

-gandhi

i have decided to allow myself to continue with my head in the sand escapism for the rest of the week till my birthday

.

_i hate my mail box

not the virtual one, the actual hardware. arriving at home from the escape i call my job, it’s the first reminder of real life to great me. here i am, still trying to open my eyes after the short cab nap. my contacts sticking to my eyeballs because i’m too vain to wear glasses on the plane. struggling up the stairs with my over packed luggage, (you’d think i’d learn how to pack by now). my ingrown toe nail cutting into my skin as i try to balance myself in my high heel boots (another skill i should’ve mastered). i hate running into neighbors at this point. they love to stare. i guess i would too.