Style Always Wins Out in the End

We have the most fabulous parties on Fphour.

Queer Eye ended for ever, so we saw it out with a bang.

Queer Eye Finale

You may also check out the Fphour album for some new shots from Oscar's birthday tea.


Last night was the best. Glitter party. Watching Ziggy Stardust and Velvet Goldmine. Being Ziggy Stardust, sans cocaine. Amazing.

All that Glitters

Also, um, I cut my hair? Hi?

The Wrecking Ball

Dudes you should totally click on the photo album in the previous post and check out the brand-new pictures of the Clue kids at Hallowe'en, including yours truly. We are amazing.

Ushti Baba

Hampshire Hallowe'en

Dudes it was Hampshire Hallowe'en. I have spent the morning combing the annals of Facebook to find you some pictures. Also I even uploaded some of my own. Pictures containing me are for some reason rare (and my costume was sweet so laaaame) but Scottie has the ones of the whole cast of Clue (and we are gorgeous) and will surely be uploading them soon, but she is at a ballroom competition in Boston today. Anyway, Hallowe'en was sweet and there are pictures for you to look at.

Fear Is Free

Oh my goodness dudes I went to Boston over Fall Break and it was fabulous great fun. Katie took pictures!

Boston-Honk!

We saw 17 (18?) sweet bands, and we danced like there was no tomorrow (when your feet will ache), and we went shopping at the Garment District (I bought the best pants in the world and a sweet dress and so much teal and purple clothing for CHAOS uniforms) and hung out with Debi and Nick (who have the best apartment ever, no lies) and had Heather's birthday dinner and Sarah broke the T and had an adventure of Doom at Brandeis, but at least I didn't have to deal with her adventure of Doom.

So basically, sweetness in Boston. Look at the pictures.

As Promised

Birthday Party

Scottie's and Katie's pictures of the party. They fail to capture the awesome, because it did not translate well to still moments of digital happiness.

Looking Out My Window At the Night

I adore my hall more than any other hall ever. To prove the joy of living here, I present you pictures from last Friday night.

Fphour

Not birthday party pictures because Katie's were all super-blurry and I am waiting for Scottie's. Should Scottie's not be much better, I will share all.

Heute Habe Ich Geburtstag!!

In case you weren't aware, I am 20 now. It's kind of exciting.

I am making a birthday play list, mostly because I can't listen to one song by die Prinzen on repeat forever (even though I do this every time it is my birthday). It is only somewhat about birthdays, but it is cheerful. Once Yom Kippur ends (which is basically right now), festivities will ensue.

Fresh as the Bright Blue Sky

Weekends are awesome, especially holiday weekends. They start on Thursday nights, which, for now, is only Tim Gunn, but will soon be full-blown Cookie Party, then wind into yoga cla,ss (which is so much more intense now but that's good) and through a lazy lunch and a free afternoon (thanks to Rosh Hoshana) and into a rainy Saturday morning spent in bed, dinner at Judie's, and a busy Sunday at the Big E, followed by a cocktail-dress-wearing, cheese-and-grape-juice-consuming party for the Emmys, even if I left them halfway through to finish my homework. And my homework is fascinating reading, so it's not like I can complain that much. Matter of fact, I should go to class now, one of my three classes that are all really about the same thing, which pleases me.

Once I Had This Dream

Yes, I am back in the States, and that means Hampshire. Yes, I am eating and healthy and if I could manage to sleep more than 6 or 7 hours a night life would be perfect. But my schedule is very busy and I have a lot of homework so I'm doing the best I can.

Summary of life, yes? Where to begin? Well, my hall is fabulous and amazing and we have great plans, although so far they have resulted only in awesome lounge decor and a tv schedule, but we're thinking ice cream maker and costume parties and other Lovelies. Also we have made Sims of the Hall and they are pretty hilarious and we are Nerds. Classes are going well- Israel and Palestine is fascinating (plus I <3 Aaron), Secular Jewish Culture is so unexpectedly big but I'm really excited because it's this summer's Culture Class continued, Modern European Immigrant Lit has the best readings ever, but I'm kind of ambivalent about the professor and the Smithies who fill my class. For one thing, having a class without a single boy is kind of unnerving. Old Norse is great and very fun and the entire class is Nerd Nerd Nerd which is lovely. Also I am not the only 5 college student there, so I feel less alone. I've been to the Book Center to work just one day so far, and I'm still shuffling my hours around so that I can actually get enough time in to earn money and also not go crazy from never having free time. And I have sooooo much homework and of course my two reading-intensive classes are on the same day, so that's why I'm not sleeping. I spent 6 hours reading last night, and I still have a response paper to write. I swear I do this because I love it.

My friends are also fabulous and amazing, and we have been having great fun in spite of having absolutely no time. Sarah, Katie and I are one act into The Importance of Being Earnest, and if we ever get free time again, we'll be finishing it because we adore this play (Sarah has never read it, but she will adore it). Rebecca came down from Vermont to visit this weekend, which meant that she and Jason and Klaus and I went to Korean Restaurant and Bart's and the Diner and that was very exciting. Rebecca also spent the night at Hampshire and that meant a trip to Atkins the next morning, which turned into the Longest Atkins Trip ever, when, upon returning, we ran into Debi-Nick-Mindy-Scottie, who were on their way to Atkins, and so we went back with them to hang out. Debi and Nick are very excited about their new apartment in Boston, and visiting will happen soon. Post-Atkins, we went to the oh-so-exciting Dan Kahn concert at the Book Center- yay radical klezmer folk-punk! Dan Kahn plays like 2984698746978 instruments and he brought an amazing band with him and he translates Yiddish songs in exciting ways and he is also a great performer and apparently his CD is just as exciting but I wouldn't know because Noah has the copy that I bought. (In a great husband-wife moment that is so typical, I saw Noah for all of 5 minutes on Sunday, and most of that was him asking me for money for the CD, which I, as a good husband, provided.) Post-concert, Sarah and Debi and I filled out insurance forms, by which I mean Debi returned to our hall and was social with all these people she hadn't seen in a few months, and I filled out the forms while asking Debi occasional questions. And apparently I have to go get a doctor fill out a form about how I was sick 2 and a half weeks ago because that is how awesome our insurance company is. Which means that I have to find time in my schedule to go to Health Services, which does Not please me.

Other than that, my entire life has been taken up by classes and homework. But it is Wednesday, and my classes for tomorrow are faaaaar less reading-intensive, so I'll be fine. Also: Tim Gunn tonight which means so much swooning.

What Is The Light?

Birobidzhan!

Photos from Birobidzhan, in no particular order. You know how to e-mail me or comment to ask what stuff is. Fun game: find me in the photos! It's kinda like Where's Waldo!

Whimper Whimper

In case you haven't heard, and have been wondering why I disappeared so suddenly, I nearly died. Okay, not quite so dramatic, but I did have a very very bad case of salmonella and am now very very slowly on the mend. Today is an Exciting Day because I walked all the way to the post office to do e-mail and internets, except that I only had maybe 3 e-mails of an exciting nature and absolutely nothing on Facebook (except lots of photos, which I don't have the energy for now) and I am disappointed in all of you. When I am dying, I want well-wishes of an electronic form!

So 4 days in a Soviet hospital didn't kill me, but it was very very scary and I want to go home soooooo much. Instead, I am curling up in a hotel room, reading a lot of books, and not eating much. I wouldn't be eating much at home, either, but I think it would be a lot more. No food here is appetizing.

I am quite tired now, so I shall wrap this up and convince Debi and Sarah to take me home (which means another very long walk, which I am not looking forward to) and I will sleep for a very long time.

Git a Kuk!

Sarah and I have titled our movie after our favorite Berl Kutlerman catch-phrase. If I am a good videographer, we will have a fascinating montage by the end of our time here.

I spent my afternoon in some sort of press conference about a new book called L'Chaim Birobidzhan. Said press conference/panel discussion/something or other was entirely in Russian, although I'm sure it was fascinating. It is classic Berl to have us all show up for something without bothering to tell us that we won't understand it.

The level 3 ("advanced") Yiddish class is up to something like 12 people, of 12 utterly unrelated levels. I am the only person in the class who knows German, and everyone else knows at least some Hebrew (including people who know Hebrew much better than Yiddish), and this means that Hebrew is no longer just stealing my lunch money, but now it is also waiting outside in the school yard to beat me up on the way home. The fact that my teacher knows German and only as much Hebrew as Yiddish has taught him is a deliciously ironic reversal I am sure to face for the rest of my American (non-German) Yiddish education, but I'm not quite excited about appreciating said reversal when it totally ruins my opportunity for the perfect Yiddish class. New plan: take myself off to Trier and learn Yiddish for real, with actual linguists who are doing actual research that interests me. Preferably this coming spring, but that's something to negotiate with Hampshire.

In other news, we went to Khabarovsk yesterday, and it was a very interesting but poorly planned trip. Example: Berl forgot to schedule meals. We left at 6 in the morning and returned at 8 in the evening. After much whining, we got him to give us 20 minutes to grab hot dogs (I pity my vegetarian friends- Debi is pretty much living off chips at this point, and sometimes I have to stop her before she accidently eats bacon flavor). We also met some old Jews at a synagogue, and some young Jews at a preschool, and had a lovely "Git a Kuk" tour of Russian architecture.

Today is aBad Day because it started badly, but I promise you should not worry about me. Tomorrow shall be better. It is a funny story, though, so I shall share: last night, we got a call from someone who was like "we will pick you up for class at 9:15 tomorrow." So I set my alarm for 8:45, woke up, knocked on Sarah's door to let her know to get up, and decided to lay back down for 10 minutes because I was very very sleepy. At 8:48, someone banged very very loudly on my door and shouted something in Russian, then went around banging on all the other doors. Upon opening our doors, myself and my neighbors encountered one of the Dorm Mothers saying "mashine mashine" and making driving motions, and we gathered that the car was here for us, and wanted to leave. Half an hour early. Chaya figured this made no sense, and went down to find out what was going on. The driver was Russian, no one spoke any not-Russian, and so Chaya wrote 9:15 on a piece of paper, which the driver crossed out and wrote 9. So we determined that we had to get ready very very quickly, and I went to brush my teeth while the dorm mother lady continued to point at her watch and shout things in Russian at me. We did leave at 9, and got to school far too early (class starts at 9:30 Jewish Time, which is like 9:45. We were there at like 9:15. Not cool.) and I have been really off-center all day because of it. Grrr.

Sholem Aleichem!!!

I am in Birobidzhan, and it is the land where dreams come true. We are being taken care of in the best of ways, the grocery store chain is called Brider, there is a Freylikh Cafe, a statue of Sholem Aleichem to which we have made great pilgramiges, a statue of Tevye... the symbol of the city is a menorah and a rainbow. How could this place be any better? Well, they could speak not-Russian or I could speak Russian, but we are getting by with the help of some new friends. My Yiddish is starting to recover from the 10 days in Germany which utterly, utterly killed it, Debi has recovered from the Frankfurt hot chocolate that made her deathly ill in Moscow, we've all recovered from not sleeping during the looooong journey from Frankfurt to here. It's only rained about half the 4 days we've been here, I have seen maybe 3 mosquitoes and they are not of a larger-than-normal size, they tell us the water is safe to drink and I had a cup of tea made from it this morning and still feel just fine.

I feel that I should be doing a better job of chronicling these things, as Debi certainly is, and Sarah appears to be, but my poor brain is all over the place running around in the happiest of circles. We got in at about 8 in the evening on Saturday, greeted by about 12 (or so it seemed, at least, it was probably more like 5) incredibly friendly, incredibly fast-talking Russians. One man spoke Hebrew, Debi and Sarah used him to make some communication possible, but mostly these very friendly women dragged us around showing us things, took us to the Brider, and put us in our rooms (we each have a whole room to ourselves! Mine's a triple, Sarah's is a double, and Debi has a suite with a bathroom of her own and everything) and we ate some bread and some chips and collapsed from exhaustion. Debi was awoken at 9:30 Sunday morning (although we thought it was 8:30- funny story about us not managing to figure out which time zone we're in) by the amazing Berl (who is a tiny Yiddish powerhouse) who was like "Good morning we, the leaders of the program, are here and we will come back in 5 hours to show you around and explain things" and then he left. Sarah and I awoke, we decided to wander towards the center of town, proceeded to be Amazed by the beauty of this city, got yelled at by a telephone salesman when we tried to use his internet, found a store called Tsimmes and some other exciting Yiddish things, and managed to order borscht and bread and juice at a real Russian cafe all by ourselves. Then we went back to the dorms because it was nearing the time that Berl and Co. claimed they would return. Tired, we all settled down to read, and promptly fell asleep for the next 6 hours. Fortunately or not, Berl and Co. failed to appear while we were asleep, and failed to appear for the rest of the night, during which we got creative enough to boil water and make a sad pot of pasta (this before we knew if we were allowed to drink the water or would suffer fiery stomach-death for it). Monday, the day the program was to begin, we awoke and gathered and had no idea what was to happen to us. And played cards and watched Russian tv (we have 2 channels, so we were alternating between a Soviet War Movie Marathon and some sort of herbal medicine talk show. It was surreal.) and waited. And waited. And hungered. And wondered what was to become of us. Finally, someone knocked on our door, and it was... a woman speaking Russian who apparently left something in Debi's freezer that she wanted to retrieve. So we waited some more, and then there was another knock! This time it was a Japanese woman named Tziziko, who is also in the program and living in the dorms with us. She had apparently talked to Berl earlier in the day, and informed us that we were to meet him and the rest of the program at 4 at the school. More excitingly, we found out that she speaks at least some Russian. With great gusto, we implored her to come to lunch with us, where we managed to get real food (at the Freylikh Cafe) and managed to navigate the Russian bus system, and got to the program at the appointed time. At the school, we found a room full of local students, which was most surprising and exciting. After we arrived, Leybl from Oxford showed up, and a couple from Ohio (one born in Israel, the other in South Africa) joined us later, and so I guess that makes us quite the international group. Yiddish classes began, and I am working with a German Yiddish professor, using a textbook written from Germans learning Yiddish, and this means that all my dreams have come true and that I should be doing my future Yiddish studying in Germany because it just makes So. Much. More. Sense. I have exactly 1 minute and 51 seconds of B-roll footage for the video, because I was a very very bad cinematographer and failed to charge my camera before Berl's amazing amazing walking tour yesterday, but it was also rainy and gross and that does not make for pretty video. Today it is sunny and we are doing a shmues-walk, so perhaps better footage will result.

We have 45 minutes left of our lunch break and have not yet eaten, so perhaps I will persuade Debi to leave now.

Weimar Woot Woot

Yes, I am in the loverly city of Weimar, which is more shtetl than shtot by Yiddish standards, so I guess that makes it a Städtchen in German but that's not a word. And we finally found Debi (who is staying in the same hostel as us) tonight (although we have been in Weimar since 9 pm last night) and have had other adventures, including:
-finding the cutest French cafe EVER
-taking Katie to the hospital because apparently that's what you have to do to get sinus medicine in Germany on a Sunday (things not ever being open on Sunday was on my "I don't like this" list, I now remember)
-eating Bratwurst and Döner yesssssss
-hooking up with some Yidn (mostly German Gentiles, natch) for singing and dancing (we threaded the needle yay!)


Also umm München stories? Frenchy Frenchman our hostel roommate was so amazing and we had so many very short, slightly awkward but oh-so-charming conversations. Munich itself remains among my favorite cities in the world, we checked out some sweet art at the Pinakothek, and we went on a sweet free tour that involved so many stories about beer because Munich is all about beer. And Sarah inadvertently stole a beer glass from which she was drinking apple juice, because she is good at things like that. And ummmmm I love Munich?

Maybe I will be better at travelouging while in Biro-bairo-Biro-bairo-Biro-bairo-Birobidzhan. Tomorrow, it is off to Dresden, then Leipzig (1 day each), then we hit up Frankfurt for laundry and last-minute shopping and maybe a little sightseeing.

München Heart

It is good to be in Bayern again. We had a lovely train ride and a wonderful hostel with roommates from Ireland and France. Delicious Spanish food for dinner, exciting plans for today.


I'll remember how to blog with detail one day, I promise.

Today

Took a tour with the most amazing charismatic tour guide, said "un a" to a German, who quite within-his-rightly interpreted it as "ohne" (I have completely forgotten the word ein and I hate myself for it), and got hissed at by some random lady while having dinner in the basement of Bertl Brecht's house. Overall, a success.

Woooooooooyaaaawwwwwnn

So I am in the lovely city of Berlin, in an absolutely gorgeous hostel (seriously so pretty and a perfect location) and I am tired beyond tired because I got up at 5 am yesterday and haven't seen a bed since. Trains and planes and automobiles all coordinated quite nicely, no one got lost or killed, there has been an excess of food, and all of my Important Things are locked up nice and safe. Life is good, I want a nap but I don't dare. Instead, we go to bed early tonight and good things happen tomorrow.

More Pictures!

At the end of the loverly Yiddish Camp album, you will find brand new pictures that you have not seen before, including many fine pictures that depict actual working being done!

Yiddish Camp

Shake Hands

There is a t-shirt designed by the Super Freylikh Team in the works. If all goes well, it will be available for you to purchase. It is an amazing t-shirt.

In other news, David Shneer is a lovely human being and daytrips to klez concerts in New York can be very exciting and it is finally raining. Also, my count of letters completed in the warehouse is up to 5, and I've done the end of Reysh, but the middle still needs to be done, so I'm not quite sure where that puts me. "Me" being of course "me and Mikhl most of the time but he abandoned me today."

Yellow Pigs Day was yesterday and I like the number 17 even more now. 17 is a very good number.

Don't Be Long

Mikhl and I are now the Super Freylikh Team in the warehouse.

That is all.

Productivity!

Apparently Debi got inspired by Marissa and decided to upload all her pictures today, so if you click on the link in the previous entry, it will take you to a collection of 121 pictures from the past 5 weeks or so. The first 70 are Marissa's, and go chronologically, and then the chronology starts over with Debi's pictures. I have captioned them all with varying degrees of detail, and I will gladly tell stories about whatever, just ask me.

Woo Pictures

Marissa uploaded her pictures from the first 5 weeks of Yiddish Camp, so I can now share them with you! I'm working on captions- I'm heading out to dinner and shmues-kreis in half an hour or so, but I promise I"ll get captions done.

Yiddish Camp

Where Do We Go Now?

I never did tell you about Canada, did I? Canada is the most crazy mixed-up land ever, except for Vermont. Here's how it went down:
We got off to a great start, with me and Debi and Jessica and Sonia in the small van. Yes, 4 people in an 11-seater. It makes perfect sense, I swear.
A few hours down the road, the phone rings. It is Rachel, informing us that Jonah's car has died in some town called Sharon. As it happens, we are right in front of the exit for Sharon, and we go to save them.
And go to save them. And go. And drive up and down route 11 or whatever godforsaken road we were on for 1 hour. We stopped to ask directions twice, and called Jonah/Rachel/etc at least 4 times. We drove past Dixie's Country Kitchen more than once. For the first 45 minutes, we thought we were seeking Seltz Auto Repair because Sonia is awesome at phones. When I finally got on the phone, I discovered that it was Phelp's, and suddenly life became easier when a no-nonsense lady at a general store gave us the kind of directions I like ("go past the big pile of dirt and there will be a Mobil station on your left and keep going straight and when you see the iron bridge slow down because you're almost there") except there was a detour but Jonah gave us directions we could follow, and we took the National Yiddish Van down a dirt road, certainly the first time it had done such a thing. We passed Rokhl and Mikhl when we were nearly there, and it turned out that they had given up and were going for a swim. We drove on and collected Jonah and Jay, and proceeded to all go jump in the river with our clothes on. Well, Debi and Jonah and I jumped in, and Sonia and Jessica kinda waded, and Jay stood on the shore and told us we were meshugge. Which we were. Once we were all nicely soaked, we got out and Jonah got yelled at by some country lady who told him to go back where he came from and we got back in the van, somewhat more crowded than we had been, and drove to Canada. The border guy made us get out and prove that there was no funny business going on because crazy Canadian Mikhl insisted on being a Canadian citizen with a Canadian passport among a group of Americans and they were very confused as to why he was going to Canada. And then I noticed that Canada is a crazy place where they paint their farm stuff green instead of red, and I drew Don Quixote on Jonah's t-shirt, and we stopped at a tiny cafe for a bathroom break and felt so foreign, and then we finally got to Montreal and got lost and Mikhl and Jay argued but we made it to the hostel at the same time as the other van, so we rock. And we discovered that the boys' half of the hostel had bedbugs. So they were all wimpy and moved to a hostel around the corner, where they would meet the most interesting characters, but that's for later. We settled in and wandered for a few minutes, then it was dinnertime! Our chosen restaurant had a strict no-reservations policy, but there were 25 of us and apparently that meant we had an "agreement." So Sonia and Hector and I wandered over a bit early to see about said agreement. And talked to about 4 people before someone remembered something about maybe someone called, and then they agreed that they could seat us inside. So Sonia and I waited around a while and then everyone else began arriving, and we got seated. And this restaurant turned out to be amazing and the Book Center was paying for everything, so we went all out. It was all delicious and we met Naomi's lovely family and had a great time hanging out and having a very very long dinner. Afterwards, we figured we should hit up some local bar. But Naomi's sons were like "wait we know something better" and took 13 or so of us off on a long and winding trek across Montreal. We walked for like 45 minutes, losing half of the group or more along the way. It started raining, torrentially, 3 blocks before our destination. The rain made the boys determine that we would not go all the way to their intended destination, and they took us to a different bar. Dripping, we stumbled in to look at a crowd of late-20s/early-30s and up men around a bar decorated with outer space holograms. So, you know, classy. We were glad just to be dry and huddled in the corner around our drinks, attempting to salvage the night. We were smart enough to take cabs home, and I collapsed into my warm dry bed. The other hostel was not so lucky. The only bathroom was occupied by a woman taking a shower. At 1 in the morning. And she proceeded to shower for the next hour or so. In spite of them knocking on the door and asking her to hurry. Apparently, when she finally exited the shower, she made some comment about how she didn't expect anyone to want the bathroom at 1:30 am. Klaus reports that he saw her get up and take a 15 minute shower at 7 the next morning.
Our next morning, we had an appointment at the local Yiddish elementary school. So we deemed that we would meet 45 minutes before we should be there, since it is a 20 minute drive. So of course we left about 10 minutes before the appointed time. I am not learning Jewish time well- a year in Germany and a mother who thinks half an hour early is on time have gotten me pretty unable to be late to things. No one seemed to mind, and we toured the quadrilingual (English, French, Hebrew, and Yiddish) school and were all immensely jealous and began figuring out how to marry Anglophone Montrealers in order to send our children to said school. We then hopped back in our vans and went off to look at a synagogue and meet a somewhat racist gabbai and then we went to a delicious deli for piles and piles of smoked meat. Smoked meat is absolutely delicious and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I would live off smoked meat if I could. Sonia and I went off and wandered a bit in the immense free time that followed, and Sonia was sad that none of the shopkeepers would speak French with her, so I spoke German with her, and we coveted some pretty dresses and bought some great ice cream and met back up with the group. Back in the vans, we had a driving tour of Jewish Montreal (driving tours are for yes) and went to get some (very good) Montreal bagels. And went to a very swanky condo complex to pick up 16 boxes of books from a Zamler, and then it was back to the hostels, where we wandered a bit to find some food, and then all hopped on the Metro to go to a Yiddish play. It was a very exciting revue of many classic Yiddish theater songs, and we recognized many of them (of course, we were previously schooled), and we were the youngest people there by far, but the whole audience was so energetic and into it that it was an amazing experience. We came out so excited and energetic. Some people broke off to go to some jazz stuff, but a group of us decided we were hungry, and made our way towards some sort of food (after much wandering)- it was once again absolutely delicious. We gave the poor waiter a giant pile of small bills and change, for which I still feel bad, but I did at least get rid of all the excess Canadian money I was in possession of. Friday morning led us to a delicious brunch at Nomi's, and a random theater workshop. It was fun to do all these physical theater exercises, though, and a nice way to spend an afternoon before having to face another 6-hour drive. Hector was driving the big van back, and me, Debi, Sonia, Jessica, Jason, and Klaus were his passengers. We got kinda lost on the way to the border but got directions at a gas station, got through the border with no problems (Hector said he'd never brought books over that fast), and had a very scenic route through upstate New York to get back to Vermont. Once in Vermont, we tried valiantly to find food, failed for exit after exit (rural Vermont is seriously rural), and finally found a really cute little town where we got really good food at a cute little restaurant and, thus fortified, made it back to Massachusetts without incident. It was late when we got in, and sleeping felt amazing, and we had a nice relaxing weekend that ended with me getting deathly ill. I'm slightly less on my deathbed now, and the sickness is continuing to spread (I was not the first to have it and I shall not be the last), and life is proceeding nicely. Klaus got engaged, and we are having a shindig at his and Debi's houses tonight (they are neighbors so it makes sense). I was very productive at work, so the sweat and grime that cover me feel really nice. Life is good.

I forgot to tell you about Celto, but Celto is a story unto himself, and is best expressed via Paul's impression of him. Paul will be playing Celto in the intern show. There will be video.

Summer in the Orchard

When you put 18 college students under an apple tree and hand them a box of Hebrew religious literature, what can result but the beautiful tableau you see below you, soon to be winging its way to the mailboxes of proud yiddishe bubes the world over?

For your identification purposes, Jonah (Joinaleh) is at the top of the tree, Michael (Mikhl) is below him, Marissa (Jungle Jew) and I are on the branch below that, then it's Kaile, Ava, Paul, Arielle, and Nick (Klaus), Jason in the chair, Christa, Sonia, Jay, Jessica, Rebecca, and Marika, and Jeremy and Rachel (Rokhl) on the ground in front of them. Look how excited we all are by the prayer books we are holding! Check out our fabulous acting skills! Look how Jonah gazes boldly into the future we are all creating! There is no propaganda here at all!

Inside the magazine, they managed to find a 50% unflattering picture of a horizontal nature.

That's Sonia on the ground, then Jeremy, Rokhl, and Jessica. The next row has Jason, Ava, Jay, Jonah, Arielle, Rebecca, and Marika, and the row behind them goes Marissa, Kaile, Christa, Paul, yours truly, and Nick. Mikhl, in classic Mikhl style, is standing at the very top.

And there you have the future. Enjoy.

In the Quiet of the Railway Station

I am going to Canada tomorrow for the first time ever. I am not wrapping my head around this.

It is far too hot to sleep, so I am going to quickly summarize New York.
Thursday:
-super-awesome road tripping with Nomi, Sonia, and Rokhl. Getting lost on the BQE because it turned into some other road with no warning. Getting directions from a cab driver.
-swanky swanky dinner at Steiner Studios. Apparently they make movies there.
-15 people in an 11-passenger van, lost somewhere in Brooklyn
-tiny tiny hostel
-meeting awesome Yiddishists, and Hasidim, and ex-Hasidim, and an amazing community that almost makes me want to live in New York. But not quite.
Friday:
-bagels, taxicabs, tenements, terrifying Chinese food (and in such quantities!), the Holocaust, terrible tour guides, so so much walking, subway, challah and cake for dinner, wander a few blocks with Jonah and Sonia, beer and crosswords at Jonah's grandma's apartment until 2:30 am
Saturday:
-sleep
-Mermaid Parade (i.e. giant giant crowds and people in costumes) at Coney Island
-really good Mexican food
-wandering another neighborhood
-most mind-blowing concert I have seen in a really really long time. The acts: sweet old man from Romania with accordion, pretty decent ska band, crazy crazy performance artists who were very intimate with the audience, Golem! (sexiest klez band ever and as much as I would love them to do Debi's wedding, they are maybe too sexy for a wedding?), Extra Action Marching Band (yes, a marching band) who likes to perform in and among the audience as much as they like the stage, which means that I had a trombone over my head at some point, and I got shoved out of the way by a male cheerleader, and I might have gotten attacked by a spit valve but I hope not
Sunday:
-marching in the Gay Pride parade with Sonia and her father and their synagogue. Gays and Jews in one place! Woo!
-aching feet (see above)
-hot dog from a stand on the street
-crazy subway detours
-crazy adventures to Queens
-crazy road tripping with Nomi and almost but not quite getting lost
-sweet barbecue at a tiny roadside shack
-home and sleep in my own bed

And then I spent two days going to class and I guess we also warehoused it up for like 2 hours yesterday (it was too hot for more) and now we're going to Canada. I am so exhausted, but I can't stop. Other people are getting sick, so I try to keep my energy up to make up for that. Sonia and I are writing the intern show because we're that over-achieving. It will be amazing and full of inside jokes so you won't understand it. You can come if you want, though. Jonah and Marissa are emceeing and they are lovely people.

I am going to try sleeping. My fan is on very high and all my windows are open but that just means bugs. Send help, but not until this weekend.

Canada!

Curl Up With a Book About Organized Crime

I guess it's about time for an update. Life is proceeding apace. Naomi Seidman is my absolute hero and I cannot believe that I have spent the last week and a half listening to her lecture every single day. Sorry, all future faculty of this program, but you simply will not stack up. I want Naomi to come to Hampshire and be on my committee and keep reminding me how much I love Yiddish and everything about it. Ruth Wisse gave a lecture, too, and I know she's legendary (I mean, she pretty much singlehandedly invented the academic study of Yiddish), and I won't admit it to anyone here, but she made me feel outside the field. She gave a great lecture, but at one point, probably without even meaning it, she made an offhand complaint about how the kids who come to study Yiddish these days don't grow up in the Jewishly rich home that speakers of Yiddish did, and how Yiddish teachers want to start at a higher level, but have to go through the basics of the culture first. And I know she's the sort of person who wishes that mainstream Jewish culture was more than a handful of jokes, and I'm with her there. But something about the way that offhand comment immediately excluded non-Jews from ever "getting" Yiddish made me really disinclined to listen to the rest of her lecture, and deeply colored my feelings about her. Fortunately, I have Naomi Seidman, who's used to teaching mixed-religion classes, and has actually spent a lot of time looking at the intersection of Jewish and Christian culture. I mean, she reads Gimpl the Fool as a story about the Holy Family, and not even a necessarily negative portrayal! She's also teaching all sorts of things about the secret things Jews say about Christians, and it is fascinating. I might even tell you these secrets if you ask nicely. Speaking of which, Night in the Yiddish is a very very different and intensely more honest book. I hope to read it entirely in this form one day, and I wish there were some way of transmitting that back to non-Jewish culture. I'm still not sure how I feel about the kinds of secrets that I'm learning about, although I do understand the minority's need to protect themselves.

I had no intention of being so esoteric here, but I really am in love with Naomi Seidman and it is impossible to really transmit why. Outside of class, warehouse work is grimy and sweaty and some people take to it much better than others, but those of us who have fun with it have lots of fun because, let's face it, pallet jacks are so awesome. Our days are really full, and I am trying to keep some balance (and not spend too much money), and I think I'm managing. Rebecca, Jessica, Paul, Jason, Jeremy, Michael and I spent a lot of time playing Paper Pass (as we have dubbed it) this weekend, and it may become a fixture. I've had some amazing discussions with people about so many things, although really just Jews. I'm trying really hard to get some utterly non-Jewish things in my life for balance, and I'm kind of failing. I need to hang out with Gentiles, I think.

In spite of the longness of the days and the nightly homework, I'm getting a lot of pleasure reading done. Something about being so motivated to do so much Yiddish means I'm also motivated to do non-Yiddish things. Maybe because I have to work so hard to read things in Yiddish, so reading in English is such a relaxing break.

I think people want to watch a movie, and my laundry might be done. This was a terrible update on my life. I apologize.

Sunday 1

I love my life, by the way.

Jonah hosted an amazing Shabbat dinner Friday night (that's a redundant phrase) and I even managed to make some good tzimmes although it paled in comparison to Sonia's amazing kugel. I am making Sonia adopt me, because she is the best Jewish mother ever. There was a ton of great food (Debi makes really good challah, too) and I even made sure that Jonah made deviled eggs so it would be a real potluck (I told him that macaroni and cheese was also necessary but that didn't happen. The kugel had cream cheese in it though, so I guess that's kind of similar). It was great to have most of the internship kids around hanging out and eating, which we don't do often enough, even though we live together. And Debi tried to teach us some crazy Yiddish socialist songs, and then she taught us crazy Yiddish folk dances, which were more successful. There is something pretty amazing about doing mating dances barefoot in the grass at midnight. Especially when it's followed by a bonfire and singing (Kari needs to learn Jew songs because Christian songs aren't going to cut it this summer) and then playing in a creek. Nothing identifies city kids and country kids faster than wading across a(n ankle-deep) creek in the middle of the night and near-darkness. I'm a country kid, by the way. We even had some 1-in-the-morning-ice-cream-straight-from-the-carton (which included the brilliant "get a spoonful of ice cream and then dip it into the jar of hot fudge sauce" method, which I highly recommend for your next communal ice cream function), courtesy of Paul and Jeremy who know how to pick very good ice cream flavors and not boring chocolate/vanilla.

Other highlights of the week:
We have a theme song, and it is in Polish. But it's called "Oy Madagascar" and it is better than you can possibly imagine. Because of this song, Marissa is Jungle Jew.
Nicknames are happening! I love nicknames. Most of them involve Yiddish diminutives.
We took pictures in a tree (with a professional photographer and a bunch of Hebrew religious books that we did not treat with appropriate piety) and I hope they give us copies of a bunch of them cause I bet they're awesome.

Naomi Seidman is coming tomorrow and she is #3 on my list of Yiddishists I adore (after Max/Uriel Weinreich and Jeffrey Shandler) and I am beyond excited. I have no idea how to deal with this, granted, but I'm sure I'll be fine.

Yiddish!

Raptor Roar

I go and put lovely dry-erase boards up for all the (2) mods and then Randall Monroe has to go and do it in his new apartment but 193485934 times better. I wish I were creative.

On a happier note, all of our stuff is labeled in Yiddish. Which Randall Monroe's apartment most sorely lacks, I am sure.

Life Is Beautiful

All this rain, maybe not.

I'm moved in to Prescott 75, in a loft room (pretty much the sweetest deal ever and those of us who have them are maaaad excited) and then internet hookup is in the closet which means that computer + bed (bed being in the loft) is not quite working, but I'm managing. Computer directly underneath skylight in the loft is pretty sweet, though. Mod life is fabulous, people are wonderful.

Speaking of people, I love Internship life. We spent all day today in various lectures and classes (which is a looong day and the only time we are doing so) but it was so incredibly fascinating that I can't begin to complain. There are 3 people (including me) in the intermediate Yiddish class right now, but that might change. In any case, that is a wonderfully intimate class and I know I'm going to learn a ton, even if I'm kind of terrified right now (I cannot form a sentence in Yiddish but I do try). The professor leading the culture class this week is so knowledgeable and a very entertaining speaker, so I'm really glad I'm getting the chance to work with him. I have this opportunity to work with so many leaders of Yiddish academia this summer, and I can't believe my luck- these are the people whose books I read, and now they're here, talking to me! Aaron Lansky did a lecture on a Bashevis story and a Peretz story and I was acutely aware of how incredibly not Jewish I am and we spent a lot of time in general talking about how religion and culture weren't different things for Jews of this time period- religion wasn't thought about at all as separate from daily life- praying and hanging out with your friends and having Shabbat dinner and sleeping were all just things that you did. Of course, I still identify very much with Yiddish culture, but not in a religious sense. And I think a lot of what's important about Yiddishkeit is precisely that it's not Christian, and there's a lot of Christian influence in Judaism today (just because a lot of Christian values have shaped modern Western values) and, although no one said it in so many words today, getting into a Yiddish headspace means getting rid of Christian thinking. Which is easy to do when you point something out to a bunch of Jews as being very Christian-influenced, but not so easy for the Christian in the group. So much of what we're doing has a lot to do with one's own identity. Jewish culture is about identity. Aaron's lecture focused a lot on determining how Jewish Peretz and Bashevis are. And, no matter how much I adore Peretz and Bashevis, I don't know that I can ever judge their Jewishness. Nor will I ever read them like a Jew. We have a wide range of religious observance here (from the not-driving-on-shabbes types to the atheists), but only 2 goyim and I'm the only one who's observant. And that's going to color my treatment of Yiddish literature. And I feel the need to constantly be upfront about it, to start every sentence with "I'm a Christian, and I see this as blah blah blah" or "I'm not Jewish, but I think yadda yadda." And I don't know if that's good or bad. I don't know if it's just my attempt to maintain an identity while being a minority, or to admit that I am woefully ignorant of so many basic Jewish things (although I'm learning and I know more than some) or what, but I feel like it's going to be crucial to my Yiddish career.

I Got You Flours

Every now and then I get into a literary mood and start narrating myself into the next great American novel, except that I never get farther than 2 or 3 paragraphs before I'm so distracted by my own habit of narrating that I descend into some sort of meta-meta-meta-meta analysis of my own brain and eventually stop because meta-meta-meta analysis is terribly depressing. Also, I write depressing stories because I hate happy endings, or I'm a sadist, or a masochist, or something. Anyway, when I'm at Hampshire and I fall into such a literary mood, and I'm able to be alone (which is essential for the Literary), I go and buy a vegan cookie and hole up somewhere to dramatize my life.

The first time I had a vegan cookie, I bought it as a snack before I got on a train because it was early and I was leaving Hampshire and I needed a snack. I was on my way to Thanksgiving and long train rides pretty much require you to be super-introspective plus I can write and not get sick (unlike in cars). So I wrote about my life and I nibbled on my vegan cookie and a firm association was made in my mind.

Another time, I was early for my Jew class and I bought a vegan cookie and sat in the airport lounge and started working on notes for my Roth-Comeau essay and I felt like I was capturing the picture-perfect college experience that I never live except for that half hour.

And tonight I watched Stranger Than Fiction and the girl in it is a baker and a radical and I really wanted her to bake vegan cookies because vegan cookies mean books and it's a movie about books and numbers and public transportation and if it had vegan cookies I would have known that it was My Movie but it didn't so I guess that's a disappointment.

I really really really want a vegan chocolate chip cookie.


P.S. I have a favorite story in the whole wide world and I am going to tell it to you now. By which I mean S Anski is going to tell you cause it's his story.
At the edge of the world stands a tall mountain, and on the mountain lies a great rock, and from the rock flows a clear spring. And at the other edge of the world, there is the heart of the world; for each thing in the world has a heart and the world as a whole has a great heart of its own. And the heart of the world gazes always at the clear spring and cannot have its fill of looking; and it longs and yearns and thirsts for the clear spring, but it cannot take ever the slightest step towards it. For as soon as the heart of the world stirs from its place, it loses sight of the mountain top with the clear spring; and if the heart of the world cannot see the clear spring even for a single instant, it loses its life. And at that very moment the world begins to die. And the clear spring has no time of its own, and it lives with the time that the heart of the world grants it. And the heart grants it only one day. And when the day wanes, the clear spring begins to sing to the heart of the world. And the heart of the world sings to the clear spring. And their singing spreads over the world and from it issue gleaming threads that reach to the hearts of all things in the world and from one heart to another. And there is a man of righteousness and grace who walks about over the world and gathers the gleaming threads from the hearts and out of them weaves time. And when he weaves an entire day, he gives it to the heart of the world, and the heart of the world gives it to the clear spring. And the spring lives yet another day.

My Other Pro-Tolerance Message Is Also Condescending

I'm working on my last final paper now, the piece de resistance, the crown jewel of my Div I, the paper that's been floating in the back of my mind for weeks and weeks and yet couldn't seem to get written until today, the day that it is due (at Letterman's monologue, by the way, so I've got plenty of time). And I slept with the window open because it was so warm, which meant that the sound of buses awoke me by 7:30. And now, 1 hour later, I have an opening paragraph written. The hard part. Once I get into the rhythm, establish a structure and a place to go, I'll crank out a page every 20 minutes. I plan on giving you updates throughout the day, because maybe you're really bored. Right now, I'm hungry, but I don't know if SAGA's open. I've never had a reason to eat this early. I'm trying to figure out what the Queer Canadian Diaspora is, if it exists. I'll let you know how that goes.

Shortly after 9 am, paragraph 2 is done. I keep writing about things that aren't what I took my notes on. This happens every time. It's raining.

9:20 am: Paragraph 3 down, halfway through the 3rd page. Rain has let up. Still hungry, I'm finally in a place where I feel comfortable in this paper. Buses are very noisy outside, but I need the window open.

9:55 am: I'm onto the 5th page now. As usual, I'm using too many block quotes (2 so far, one from each book), but I feel like the material speaks really well for itself. Besides, my professor hasn't read the main work I'm dealing with, so he needs some context. The block quotes aren't just for length. I'm going to put some sort of clothing on and go eat something so I don't die.

10:28 am: Blood sugar momentarily restored, concentration utterly lost. Fair trade?

11:07 am: Having finally forced myself to continue writing a few minutes ago, I have now completed page 5. The cloud-filtered sunlight makes everything look really really green outside. Or maybe it's because it's so wet. In any case, it's gorgeous.

11:28: 6 and a half pages. Katie is awake.

11:50: I'm to the eighth page. Word is momentarily freaking out. The essay is starting to get really explicit, because it's Philip Roth and Joey Comeau and neither one is the kind of person to use G-rated vocabulary. We're sliding toward NC-17 here, as a matter of fact.

12:08: Page 8 is finished, and I am well into threesome territory. How on earth did I get so lucky to be at a school where the culmination of my first year is comparing two books based on the fact that they climax (pun only sort of intended) with a triumvirate? I love my life.

12:35: Almost done with the 10th page, putting off lunch until I reach a stopping point. The things I am writing in this paper shock me. It's fun.

12:45: At the top of the 11th page, I'm sliding into my conclusion. I am so hungry. I want to stop, but I'll never finish if I do. Gaaaaaah.

12:59: The 11th page is full and I haven't finished this thing yet. I had planned on 8-10 pages. This is what block quotes do to you.

1:06: At 12.5 pages, I stop. The ending is trite and I don't care because I'm hungry and maybe someone will help me edit it so that it's better. I am going to eat.

I Feel So Accomplished

What I have done today:
-put 2 Bookmooch books in the mail, and received 1 Bookmooch book
-picked up and filled out time cards for the entire semester (I have worked almost 100 hours, which means I have a very nice big check coming at long last)
-joined the Communist Party of the United States of America and paid my $12 for the first years' dues. Now the communist party card that I carry in my wallet is completely legit, and will soon be replaced by an official one from the real party. I am beyond proud of myself.

Also I lay under a tree for a while and I plan on getting laundry done. Maybe I'll even work on the paper I have due Wednesday, but I don't know.

I like finals week.

A Strange Education

Sometimes I really really love my friends. Today represents some of the best as Saturdays go, and yesterday was definitely the cutest day I've ever known, so life is good.

Let's see... woke up early Friday morning to stare at the sunshine and eat breakfast for the first time in weeks, nay months, and then I went to my very very last theater design class. Where we cuddled on the couch, as has become our habit. Those of you who have known me for a while (I'm looking at you, TUMC) know that I am always a fan of 5 or 6 or more people on a couch, so having a class in a room with 2 couches and 11 people is one of the main reasons I love my school. Class ends at 11:50, and it was close to 1 by the time the last of us left the room, such was our cuddling. We ate some lunch and then me and Emma and Rachel went to sit under a dogwood tree and tell each other stories and enjoy the sunshine and warmth and flower petals. It feels so good to sit under a tree in the sun, especially after such a long winter.
I had my very very last probability class at 2:30, and we had pizza and giant cookies with special messages on them, and Kelly came back for the first time since he broke his hip, which made us all so happy. I adore the math department at this school- Ken and Kelly are such funny guys and so full of stories and so passionate and I want to talk about numbers with them forever. I wish I felt this way about the linguistics department. I mean, the linguistics profs are nice enough people, but I don't feel like I really connect with them, or particularly want to connect with them, and they certainly aren't offering any classes that I am remotely interested in. Forget the whining, though, this is about how life is amazing and I adore my friends. I colored pretty pictures in math class because Shannon and Brad were good at figuring out how to make 2 congruent figures out of a single non-symmetrical shape via 1 curve, or at least good at copying from other people, and so I could copy from them and then color the shapes all pretty. Brad had glitter glue in his mohawk, which is pretty much the best thing ever, except that it was this weird "cut out appropriation" day where there was some protest about how appropriating hairstyles like mohawks and dreads is racist, except I think there was also some event going on where you could get a free mohawk? I don't really understand it, nor am I sure how to think about it (I mean, on one hand, I don't want to be insensitive to other cultures, but, on the other hand, it's just a hairstyle)... Noah got himself one of the free 'hawks, and I haven't actually seen it spiked up yet, but I hear that it's pretty exciting. After math, there was some more relaxing and some dinner and Katie and I finally caught up on Ugly Betty (we were 4 weeks behind) and went to the last improv show of the semester (and 4 of the Sluts are leaving, which is so sad) and it was as hilarious as always, and then came more Ugly Betty and the Office and it was a nice night.

But today. Oh my goodness. We had a huge long list of things we wanted to do, and managed about half of them. Katie had to work til 1, and we don't start early anyway, so Sarah and I decided to meet up at Pirates of Penzance and work things out. So, first things first: Pirates of Penzance. Hampshire Musical Theater Collective, you make me a happy girl. Please never stop doing musicals because you are amazing. It was hilarious and wonderful and pirates are great and musicals are great and there are some talented people at this school. From Pirates, Sarah-Megen-Katie-Joanna-me walked back toward the Jew House (running into Emma on the way and promising her a hair dye party that did not happen tonight) and found Sarah's debit card (Katie found it) and Noah and Gideon appeared and we headed off to Amherst, where there was a random book sale going on, and the local comic book shop was not doing Free Comic Book Day (disappointing) and I found out that a "yaaaay" is worth 1/4 of a hug and Judie's had a really long wait so we went to the Amherst Brewing Company for dinner and they sat us immediately. I don't think our seating arrangement was socially optimal, but I guess it worked out okay. I had some pretty good Wurst, though I'm not sure I like ale-roasting or -frying or whatever they did. I like Wurst and Bier, but not necessarily Wurst that taste like Bier. But they were satisfying, and I think everyone had really delicious food, so we were quite happy as we headed off toward the mall for laser tag. It was the 7 of us (although Noah was magically replaced by Gideon's girlfriend) and these 4 random kids who clearly play a lot of laser tag, and it was mostly 2 random kids + 3 or 4 of us on a team, then we went girls v. boys in the final game- i.e. the 4 random kids and Gideon v. the rest of us. The boys beat us like 61 to 30 (the other games were like 40-20, 22-23, and 27-33 or something), but it was SO much fun and we decided that we should buy home laser tag sets and play on campus. So off to Target, where we quickly realized that laser tag sets cost like $30 for 2 guns and a vest, and so we abandoned the idea. Instead, we bought movie snacks and went to the theater to catch Spiderman 3. It was the most wonderfully emo action movie ever, and it made me very happy, although the people sitting behind us made me happier. They laughed at all the right things (like Peter Parker sobbing) and made amazing comments and I want to hang out with them every day. Unfortunately, we did not meet them, but I hope they liked us, too, because Joanna made some nice comments and we were laughing too and I want to be one of the cool kids. The movie lasted forever, as we realized when we got out and it was 12:50 (the movie started at 10:15), so we blasted Disney songs on the ride home and I am waiting for the sugar buzz of my candy to wear off so I can sleep.
Why does the semester have to be ending? Why do we all have to go away for summer?

I Want My Film to Be Beautiful, Not Realistic

Oh my goodness so much has happened in the past month ahh. How have you been? Are you enjoying the springtime? I am trying, but, every time it's sunny outside, I have all this homework. Then, on the days when I am burnt-out and want to go sit in the sunshine, it rains. Anyway!
I went to New York yesterday. Road trips are CRAZY. Especially when your map doesn't make sense and everyone has a different idea of how fast you should be going and driving in New York is so confusing. I was in Scottie's car, in the lead, (Scottie brought juice boxes and muffins, by the way) and I commend Katie so much for managing to follow us the entire time, and we worked hard to not lose Sharon, but she gave up on us once we got into the city.
We made it there alive, though, and even managed to get all 3 cars to the same place! Then we all split off to eat some food, and Michael was like "guys we have to find this really seedy looking Chinese place where the food's really good and really cheap." So Ted, Katie, Michael and I went off in search of said Chinese place, of which there must have been 128974578943 in 3 blocks (since we were in Chinatown), so we started to check a few out, and settled on one where the menu actually had English on it. Turns out that English on the menu doesn't mean the waitress knows English, so Katie the Vegetarian is sitting there trying to ask for noodles and vegetables, and the waitress gets all confused, and walks away to call someone on the phone. At this point, Ted is like "Katie, you have committed the gravest sin ever. You are going to get killed." Instead, the waitress walks back over and hands the phone to Katie, and we figure out that the person on the other end of the line is supposed to be translating. Except that no one can hear each other. Fortunately, the guy at the other table totally spoke English (and Chinese), and he translated for us. And we got some food. And you know what? It was totally delicious and so so cheap. 4 of us ate so much food for $15 total. And Michael found a duck foot in his soup, so that was pretty awesome, too.
We went to a bakery afterwards and bought delicious things and Michael got this giant Chocolate Roll (which he kept accidentally calling a "chocorate roll" but I assured him that it is very common to transpose similar sounds when they are next to each other, and that he is not a secret racist) and decided that, instead of sharing the chocolate roll with us, he was going to save it and share it with a Girl. Unfortunately, said Girl is vegan, so maybe that will not work out so well for him.
Anyway, our other shopping adventure involved going to Papito Grocery, where I bought the best soda ever for 50 cents. It was so good, I swear. Like orange soda mixed with cream soda and named "fruit champagne" and Katie told me that it is like THE soda in Haiti, which I guess is cool.
Then came the part of the evening where we did the show, which means that I was kind of running around trying to do all the things that are supposed to get done, and we had no dresser, so costumes were that much harder to change (I guess it worked okay?) but the audience seemed to enjoy it, so things were good. The theater was the hottest place I have ever been, and I am usually wearing about 3 layers of things when I am costumed, so that was not pleasant, but I survived.
We wanted to drive back that night as well, so I hopped in Katie's car and we proceeded to get incredibly lost trying to get out of the city. Even though Dorothy had given us directions, and we had followed them as closely as we could (I guess we are bad at that?). Eventually, after driving through a Hasidic neighborhood (which was so very very exciting and we all had our noses glued to the windows because those people are FASCINATING), we pulled off on some random place and Ted got out to ask directions. From the car window, we saw him walk up to the first girl he saw, and she stood there twirling her hair at him and occasionally waving an arm in the direction she thought we should go, and then Ted thanked her, and she walked away, and he turned and walked up the street for a second opinion. And disappeared for a while. Finally, he comes back to the car, bearing a piece of the best pizza I have ever had. Apparently, he found Joe's Pizza Place (seriously it was so good), and asked Joe, the most Italian guy ever, how to get to the interstate, and then he bought a slice of pizza. And Joe gave amazingly colorful directions and we did indeed make it back to 95, much to our joy.
The rest of the trip was relatively smooth, and we got in before 2, where I was amazed to discover that people were all still awake and hanging out, since I felt like it was the dead of night, but then I remembered that Hampshire stays awake on Saturday nights. I slept the sleep of the dead, though, because I was exhausted.

Now, I have to convince myself to finish this lighting design for theater, and do my math homework, and settle on a topic for my child language paper, and work a bit on my Jew paper. I'm not a fan of finals season.

Every Other Memory

NOLA

The first half of New Orleans pictures. Uncaptioned as yet, but I'll work on it. By which I mean that I hope people will leave entertaining comments on Facebook, and I'll use them as captions.

EDIT: Mostly captioned! Feel free to ask about anything that looks interesting and I will do my best to provide awesome stories!

I Want To Pay Some Other Girl To Just Walk Up and Hit Her

Boston-Mary!

So Mary came to visit me and she took a bunch of pictures so I have stolen a few for your pleasure. If I ever finish my homework, I'll upload some New Orleans things for you, of which I have a whole whole lot, but they all have to be scanned first.

The Female of the Species

New Orleans was mind-blowingly amazing. There are about 3 rolls' worth of pictures that we are in the process of getting developed (yes, we did things the old-fashioned disposable camera way) and I will scan and upload them when they come in. Once that happens, I will be better able to tell you the 263498 stories that I have.

Mary's here visiting this week, which is pretty much the best thing ever. She's sleeping on an air mattress on my floor (i.e. taking up all the floor space in my room and making it impossible to walk- the mattress gets picked up the moment she awakens), sometimes going to my classes, sometimes going to Katie's, sometimes hanging out, taking many many trips to Northampton, and Katie is being so so wonderful and taking Mary to all sorts of other places while I go to my 189457 classes and other Things That I Do. I used to be booked solid from 10:30-5:30 every day- that's starting to become more like 10-midnight, and I'm cool with it cause it's (mostly) fun stuff. The Girl Who Fell Through A Hole In Her Sweater (the play I'm sound designing, non-hip-and-with-it kids) opens April 9, so this week is the last push for us designers to get everything done... I got cast yesterday in another play, Yackagdayou, Brateslayou (And Other Such Nonsense), which is about the most awesome group of old people ever- they've been friends since their childhood camp days, and they're these really radical communist types (but weren't ever really involved in the Party) and their stories are so amazing and we're trying our best to do them justice. I'm doing double duty as Elly and Ellie- I had a meeting with Ted (who is playing my husband Davie) yesterday and we called the real Elly and Davie to talk to them- they are hilarious and wonderful and amazing and have the most fun relationship and I am very excited to be portraying them. We're doing a read-through tonight, so that should be great fun.
In non-theater news, life is great, math is fun, linguistics class is not, Jew class is the best ever and I'm already trying to plan my final paper around how this guy is the queer Philip Roth, circa 1958. Because Jews=queers, as I explained in my Yiddish Lit final paper. I keep meaning to write about other things, but I can't avoid it.

So I'm Off

I'm heading over to Katie's house now, so that we can get to Hartford tomorrow morning, from whence I will be flying to New Orleans. Pray that the weather continues to cooperate- a bunch of people have had flights canceled thanks to this blizzard, but things should be clear enough for tomorrow. I'll be in New Orleans all week, coming back on Saturday, spending Sat night at Katie's, and picking Mary up from the airport on Sunday the 25th so that even more exciting adventures may ensue. If you need me this coming week, call me, as my darling Clara is staying here to cure AIDS and muscular dystrophy via World Community Grid- your computer can save the world in its spare time, too, so you should join.

I haven't really eaten today because SAGA's closed for spring break, so I'm going to figure out where my comrade's padre is so we can get some dinner. See you in a week!

It's a Good Thing

I'm glad I'm getting out of here on Sunday, and that my flight's not tomorrow. This was taken from my window just now. You can't quite tell how heavy the snow is in this picture, but I will tell you that there was none on the ground at 11:00 this morning, and so, in 6 hours, we have a few solid inches out there. There is a road right in front of that line of trees. You can't see it anymore.

Sickness= More Blogging?

Probably.

I had the most amazing dream this afternoon while napping, one that I'm still convinced is true.
Every now and then I dream of flying. I wish it weren't so cliche, but there it is. And flying in my dreams is the most perfectly natural act. It's like swimming, really. You push off from the ground, start pulling yourself into the air with your arms. Once you get as high as you want, you can tread the air to stay there- just the lightest of movements keeps you afloat. Movement across the air is as simple as movement across a pool. In the air, everyone is graceful and life feels effortless.

I have these dreams very occasionally. Maybe 3 times in my life. But I remember them. Remember them well.

This one took place at Hampshire, in the springtime. Everything was green and the sun was warm. There had just been a great rain, and there was a giant puddle in a field behind EDH, much as there were giant puddles in my way the last time I walked over there (was it just last Friday?). I had left my bag in my class, started to leave with nothing, as I frequently do in dreams. I noticed, however, and returned to retrieve it. Whoever had closed the class had been kind enough to hang my bag on a hook outside the door, and I took it and exited again. Outside, I saw a group of friends, standing on the other side of the deep puddle-marsh. They waved to me, and I to them, and they beckoned me to join. I had no wish to tread across the deep water, however, and so I handed my bag to someone who was sitting nearby, and took flight. Taking to the sky was the sort of act that's remembered, a trick from earlier in life that makes things easier, but is somehow rarely used. Once I landed, those around me were summarily impressed- they had not ever seen anyone fly. I explained that it is not something everyone can do, but then someone in the group bounced into the air, and then another, and soon a good 3/4 of us were soaring and playing, amazed that Hampshire had managed to bring together exactly the sorts of people who were innately able to fly. I remembered my forgotten bag, flew back to retrieve it, and the dream ended.


When I awoke, I could barely breathe and I was racked with coughing. It was well below freezing outside, and had gotten dark.


I'm still pretty sure I can fly.

This is what I've written on my wall recently. Just to give you a sense of where my head is. That's Pascal's triangle, calculated to the 21st row by hand, and 2 Philip Roth quotes, one written left-to-right and the other right-to-left. Because right-to-left felt more natural to me today.

That is all.

Children!

Children!

So on that Friday that I went on the Salem Adventure of Doom, in the morning before the SAoD, my theater design class went to visit some children and milk them of ideas so that we can design an awesome kids' play. And I know my mother loves pictures of children, so these are for you, Mom.

In other news, I am curled up in my death bed with the bird flu. Okay, not that extreme, but I had a crazy fever (and awesome fever dreams) last night, and I've been trying my hardest to cough up a lung today. Good thing Katie brings me orange juice and pizza and quesadillas (and good thing Heather is here with her car to drive Katie to get me these things) or I would be dead for real. Maybe I'll manage to go to class and work tomorrow, maybe not. I have at least written and submitted (via e-mail) the paper due in said class tomorrow, so I am Ahead. I hope.

Wait- what?

First, pictures from this lovely crazy weekend:

Salem Adventure of Doom and the Oscars

If you really insist, I have a long and crazy story to tell. I've told it many a time. It's best when Sarah and I tell it in tandem. It's probably even better (and highly inappropriate) when Joanna is added to that mix. I do plan on captioning those photos sometime, but today is Monday, which means I had yoga at 8:30, ate breakfast, went to Theater, ate lunch, walked so so far to student employment only to discover that it wasn't 1 yet so they weren't open (meaning I get to go again Wednesday- joy), sat in my room for 45 minutes and stared at the wall because I can't do much more, went to class at 2:30, got out of class at 5:45 (that's 25 minutes after I should), ate dinner, thought I was going to Yiddish but actually went to an audition (so I guess I'm in a play now since I have such an abundance of time? It's an awesome play about Yiddish though so I can't complain) and then Yiddish lasted until 9:30 (it was mostly stories and not language but they were awesome stories) (also I think I might go to Siberia this August) and now I am finally done with my day. So I'm going to make a big diagram of Pascal's triangle on my wall because it soothes me and I'm going to need soothing in the coming months.

UPDATE 10:45: captions done!

Whoa

On a whim, I'm sitting in a swankier-than-expected hotel in Salem, Massachusetts after the most eventful car ride possible. I've never been happier to see an interstate. I'm surprised how much I associate 95 with home. Salem is the cutest town ever, and we are beyond excited. There will be lots of pictures, I promise.

Snow Patrol

SNOW DAY

I got up early so I could be the first one to the snow today. To get out before the men come with their shovels and clear the walks. Before there are footprints crossing everywhere and you can't pick which path to follow.

I wasn't the very first one out. Someone was waiting at the bus stop when I went outside. The bus was running, the roads were plowed. One set of tire tracks led into the parking lot. I followed it as long as I could. I didn't want to break more snow than I had to. Reaching the edge of the parking lot, though, I had to create my own path.

Walking on snow that hasn't been walked on yet is like discovering a new world. You know, without a doubt, that no living thing has been there recently. The snow was still falling, hard flakes driven by the wind that stung my face when they hit. The snow held under my feet, not leaving me to sink to the ground. I watched it blow off the roof of the Book Center as I walked toward the garden. The apple trees there are my favorite on campus, all gnarled and twisted. The pond was covered, marked only by the reeds and rocks poking from the snow, otherwise indistinguishable from the ground around it.

I didn't walk very far into the garden. I hate breaking too much snow. I want to leave things undisturbed, let others enjoy them too. I retraced my steps back, only stepping where I had already left footprints. By now, the wind was full in my face and the snow was starting to blind me. The walk home seemed longer than it ever had before.

When I got back to Dakin, the crews were starting to shovel the stoop.

I Know You Miss Me

But I'm busy. I shall crunch my schedule from this week for you, and maybe you'll understand.

Monday, 5 Feb:
8:12- roll out of bed, pull on clothing
8:25- meet Katie, walk to RCC (halfway across campus)
8:30-Yoga
10:00- buy breakfast (instant oatmeal) at Bridge
10:15- run back to room, change clothes, grab stuff for class
10:22- hurry all the way across campus to EDH
10:30- Collaboration and Problem Solving (theater design) class
11:54- out of class, walk all the way across campus to SAGA for lunch
12:45ish- return to room, review homework for probability, relax
2:20- leave room, walk halfway across campus to Cole Science
2:23- arrive at class early to snag good seat
2:30- Probability
3:50- Class ends punctually, walk other half of campus to EDH
4:05- Mapping Jewish American Generations starts late
5:28- Mapping Jewish American Generations ends late, hurry across campus to SAGA for dinner in biting cold
6:20- return to room, grab stuff for Yiddish, walk short distance to FPH
6:30- Yiddish
7:58- truncated class ends due to only Debi, Nick and I being there
8:50- walk halfway across campus to Bridge
9:00- meeting about New Orleans trip (spring break, to gut houses and such), adjourned with conclusion that another meeting is needed
10:00- retire to Jack's room, eat pie, do crossword
11:00- Fake News
12:00- return to room, e-mail
12:20- sleep
Tuesday, 6 Feb:
9:04- awakened by phone call from Katie, who has to go to UMass to have her (infected) eye examined
9:43- shower, dress, prepare for class
10:23- hop, skip, jump to ASH
10:30- Child Language
11:59- return to room, wait for phone call update from Katie
1:17- Katie returns from Ordeal
1:22- go to lunch
2:05- walk to library, pick up movie for Jew screening, get crossword puzzle
2:31- read play for theater, crossword, do nothing of intense consequence
6:00- dinner
6:40- relax
6:55- walk to FPH bearing video
7:00- fiddle with projector
7:05- professor talks about television
7:08- begin movie
8:46- movie concludes, fiddle with projector, return to room
8:48- relax, e-mail
9:30- hall meeting
9:40- decide to go to Katie's room
9:45- write paper for Jew class
10:20- hang out
11:00- Fake News
12:11- sleep
Wednesday, 7 Feb
8:28- rise and shine, throw on clothing, walk halfway across campus to Aaron's office
8:55- talk to Aaron's secretary, realize that I missed a voicemail saying that he cannot meet with me this morning but would noon be okay, smile pleasantly
9:00- silent scream to empty campus in frozen air
9:09- sit in room, try to make oatmeal via kettle, fail once again
9:51- shower
10:18- walk all the way across campus to EDH
10:30- Collaboration and Problem Solving
11:40- become Sound Designer for class play
12:05- arrive at Aaron's office
12:08- Aaron arrives at Aaron's office, meeting ensues
12:30- leave Aaron's office, call Katie, lunch
1:56- return to room, breathe, print paper for Jew class, let Dulcey use printer
2:12- leave room, walk to library
2:15- post office
2:18- return movie
2:21- arrive at probability, snag good seat
2:30- Probability
3:50- Probability ends punctually, walk to Bridge, buy apple schorle, walk to EDH
4:00- Mapping Jewish American generations
5:22- Jew class ends slightly more punctually, walk across campus to dorm
5:30- SAGA, dinner
6:15- Katie's room, try to squeeze in an episode of Top Design on internet
7:25- walk to FPH
7:30- panel on Iraq war by 3 professors from the 5 colleges
8:15- panelists open to questions of varying skill and interest
9:20- panel ends, walk to library
9:25- arrive at meeting early, snag mediocre seats
9:30- meeting about New Orleans makes a few decisions but not many
9:59- library about to close, meeting adjourns, hurry back to Dakin
10:03- find lounge, begin search for Bravo
10:07- discover that many channels have been deleted from flipping on tv, fix, find Bravo (channel 57)
10:08- watch Top Design, feel complete
11:00- Fake News
12:05- collapse, sleep or something like it
Thursday, 8 Feb
9:56- awaken to alarm for first time in days
10:01- shower
10:23- walk to ASH
10:30- Child Language, look at pictures of babies
11:50- walk to SAGA, eat lunch
12:50- return to room
12:54- leave room, walk to Yiddish Book Center
12:59- meet with Nora
1:02- meet Aaron, confirm that I am working for 4 different departments at the same time (somehow)
1:09- meet with Randi, begin training
1:20- begin entering visitor book information into computer
2:30- move from Randi's computer to work-study computer
5:07- receive "where are you" text from Katie
5:13- leave work
5:17- return to room, gather laundry
5:24- begin laundry
5:53- go to SAGA, eat dinner
6:30- return to laundry room
7:59- complete laundry, run upstairs
8:02- commence cookie party with My Name Is Earl
8:30- The Office
8:55- get final load out of dryer
9:00- Scrubs
9:30- 30 Rock
10:00- Anderson Cooper 360 Mourns Anna Nicole Smith
10:30- The Sarah Silverman Show
11:00- Fake News
12:03- return to room, make bed
12:20- commence blogging
1:05- finally sleep

Marzipan

I decided to begin eating my Milka Marzipan bar today, but I wanted to savor every single experience this chocolate bar offers. The crinkle of the foil as I unwrap it, the firm bar itself, caressing its sections with my fingers, that finest-on-earth smell of almonds and chocolate and sugar that makes my mouth water. I could just sit here and smell it forever.... carefully breaking one section off and wrapping the rest for later, holding the chocolate in my mouth as I type, nearly exploding as my saliva rushes up to greet the familiar taste, as the cocoa melts away and dissolves into my mouth. I nibble, wanting to make this moment last as long as I can, pulling away tiny layers of bittersweet chocolate before I reach the marzipan I so long for. I suck at the chocolate, afraid that biting will ruin everything, pulling the whole square into my mouth. Then it happens, the chocolate gives way to marzipan underneath and I close my eyes in ecstasy, carefully chewing that paste which makes my world go 'round.

Umbrella Chasing

Stepping off the bus at the University of Massachusetts's Amherst campus, I had little trouble finding the library, a 26-story brick tower standing above a long, still-unfrozen pond where the Canada geese who have been migrating much slower this winter were flocking, filling the air with their honks as I slipped through the automatic doors and moved to the elevator. A quick glance at the directory told me that I'd want the 11th floor, and I pushed the up button.
"Here they are, two North Americans, a man and a woman just over and just under forty, come to spend their lives in Mexico and already lost as they travel cross-country over the central plateaus." (Harriet Doerr, Stories for Ibarra)
I love libraries, always have. Because UMass's library is so huge, you can get lost much more easily. Another girl got out of the elevator on the same floor as me, but I didn't see her again, although I spent over an hour wandering the rows, carefully pulling the books I had listed, taking them to the desk where I had set up camp, casting off coat, scarf, hat, mittens, and then copied the first lines of each book down into my notebook, taking care not to miss a word, and not to read beyond the sentence I copied.
"As soon as the Ford Touring car crossed the St. Paul city limits on April 20, 1934 ("You Are Leaving St. Paul, Minn., Home of the Inlagd Sill Herring Festival, Please Visit Us Again!"), and passed into the great, square-upon-square expanse of the surrounding farmland, Bena jotted down the odometer reading with the golf pencil she kept in the ashtray: 5,434." (Heidi Julavit, The Mineral Palace)
My mind drifted back to the Girl with the Red Umbrella as I pondered my own first sentence. I knew she'd feature in my book. I knew that she'd come to represent the obsession that would drive my characters, who would start lingering in public spaces each time it rained, searching the crowds for that flash of color, unsure what to do should She appear again.
"A freakishly August-like afternoon in May of that year, Mark Singer stands overheated and spattered with light at the altar of the Episcopal church on Third, makes his vows to Olivia Stavros, turns and lifts the gauzy veil from her face." (David Long, The Falling Boy)
It was sunny today. The first such day in a while. Sunny, and bitterly cold. I spent a lot of time at bus stops, still learning the Wintersession schedule, which is infrequent and less convenient than usual. It makes me think about last year, waiting at the bus stop in the bitter cold, by myself. Maybe that's why I wanted to speak German so much today. I think my first novel should be in Yiddish.
"One afternoon, three years after the beginning of the new century, red dust that was once rich mountain soil quivers in the air." (Hari Kunzru, The Impressionist)
Katie read somewhere that people with attention disorders are more creative because they see the world as many disconnected parts and thus have an easier time combining the pieces to make something new. I've never had trouble focusing. I'm the most rational, logical person I know. I don't enter anything without careful consideration. Hence today's research. Rather than sitting down, letting a few words fly out, calling it the first sentence of my debut novel and being done with it, I decided to see how other authors began their foray into the literary world. I chose books I've never read, books I know nothing about. Many of the sentences intrigued me, offering me a whole story in their implications, laying a framework for what was sure to come.
"Some nights she still goes over every detail, beginning with the weather and proceeding to the drop of blood on the sheet- her quick wish for a man with straight white teeth and red lips- and then his arrival." (Elizabeth Hay, A Student of Weather)
I closed every book after reading the first sentence. Closed it, took it back to the shelf, replaced it among the hundreds of other volumes that I'll never open, never know. Hundreds of roads I'll not explore, hundreds of lives I'll never touch, hundreds of girls walking away from the mailbox, umbrellas swinging in unison with their singular gait.
"We used to stay in bed most of the weekend, Hugo and I, when we lived in the attic of a rambling house with pinnacles and gables, among chestnut trees, on the edge of a park in South London." (Nuala O'Faolain, My Dream of You)
A girl was reshelving books while I was working. I was embarrassed to put books back if she could see me. I feel like it's against library etiquette. They have one special shelf for the books you've picked up, as if you're not smart enough to put the number written on the spine back in order with all the others, as if PS3559.8715 R63 is a code that only the specially trained can decipher, and not simply a label to be put in numerical and alphabetical order with all the rest. When I had a book to replace on the aisle she was working on, I slipped it onto her little cart, hoping she wouldn't notice the sudden addition. I'm certain she did.
"You should have seen us when we had our act together, top of our game, toast of the town, walking and talking miracles and- you'd better believe it- the real American thing." (P. F. Kluge, Biggest Elvis)
My bus came at 5:25. I had hoped to catch the 4:45, but I'd only written down 7 or 8 sentences by that point, and I needed more time. I didn't find the 25 books I'd intended, but was forced to stop at 21. I spent at least 7 minutes waiting at the bus stop. Time for 1 or 2 more sentences. Time to figure out the winning formula. Time to determine if the most interesting titles really do lead to the most unassuming first sentences, with the plain titles pouring life and tension and interest into the space before that first period. Instead, I stood in the cold until I could return to Hampshire, eat dinner, go to Yiddish class, do all the things that continually keep me from writing.
"Mike always teased me about my memory, about how I could go back years and year to what people were wearing on a given occasion, right down to their jewelry or shoes." (Ann Packer, The Dive from Clausen's Pier)
I don't write fiction. I don't write poetry. I don't write plays or movies or stories or any of the other things that spring from the imagination. I write about the things that happen to me and that I cause to happen. I embellish to make it sound well, to make the sentences line up nicely on the page, to please whatever meager aesthetics I possess. Were I ever to write a novel (which would be nice to accomplish), it will have to arise from the things I have known. And so I return to the image that I've been carrying around, red umbrella, mailbox, antiques store, fog, mountains, feverish typing, cold, puddles, sleep, dreams. My first sentence.


"She'd never seen the antiques store on Pleasant Street open before, but, then again, she rarely walked this far from the center of town, and wouldn't have today if the mailman hadn't come so early, forcing her to walk to the post office to mail that letter, which had to arrive by Tuesday or everything would be ruined."