Should I take a shower?

I mean, what's the point, anyway? I'm in Tel Aviv and there's a bitch of a heat wave. I have a job interview in some place I have no idea how to get to with no one to take me there. I have a heavy portfolio I need to schlep with me all the way there (wherever "there" is). All are factors which will make me sweat and smell like I haven't showered in days. So why should I shower?

I don't like Tel Aviv. Even if the cocaroaches here are smaller than in other cities, it reminds me of Montreal minus the frostbite and the inhibitions. Even if working at Ynet would be astronomical, I doubt that I'll feel at home here. I was thinking more along the lines of, oh, I don't know... JERUSALEM!

The problem is there are not as many writing opportunities there and I have a feeling the salary isn't great either. And although the weather is not as bad, the cocaroaches are bigger.

So besically, in my case, it's not "Decisions, decisions." It rather boils down to "Decisions, decisions, cocaroaches, decisions, shower, city, decisions..."

Peace, love and the forecast shows clear skies with 100% chance of katuisha rocket showers.

Aliyah tomorrow at 3:10 p.m.

 

Last night was my last night in downtown Montreal. I left at around 8:30 with two of my friends (we'll call them T. and R. in case they don't want their names here) for a final farewell night of happy-happy-joy-joy-forgetting-all-the-other-bullshit fun.

It started off with a big huge fruity milkshake at Rockaberry's (not really downtown, but I'm getting there). Then playing pool at Jilly's on Decarie (still not downtown, but that's next). Then we headed for Cabaret Mado.

The milkshake was ok. A little too big for my stomach to stomach but very fruity indeed. Another one of my friends (we'll call him J.) called me up while I was working on my shake and said he wanted to join us, but would take some time to get ready, and it would take me some time to try and convince T. to come with us to Cabaret Mado because it's a drag queen club in the Gay Village.

So in the meantime T., R. and I decided to go play pool. I suck at pool but by some miracle I managed to sink enough balls for my team to actually win the game. By then, J. arrived at Jilly's and joined me in my fight to get T. to come with us to the Cabaret. Again, by some miracle, we won, and he joined us.

I bet that T. regrets ever having considered it. The drag host picked on him during their show (because he was the odd guy out, not laughing at the jokes because they were all in Quebecois) and graphically demonstrated how she would eat his ass.

R., J. and I were torn to shreds, on the fucking floor, but T. was all red and not the least bit amused. I felt bad for having had a good time at his expense but it was so totally worth it! He turned to me and said "Thanks a lot, Hadass!"

Lucky for me, T. still has a certain sense of humor, in his own heterosexual way. So we're still friends, and there's no hard feelings.

In any case, I'm gonna miss the Village, and the Cabaret, and the rest of downtown Montreal, and definitely my friends. Another thing I'm gonna miss about Montreal is how you can actually breath in the clubs, bars and restaurents, how you don't feel like every breath you take is a breath closer to getting lung cancer, and how you don't leave the scene smelling like an ashtray. Every time I'll be hanging out in a public place in Israel, I'll revert back to those same feelings because EVERYBODY smokes in Israel! *BARF*

So anyways, tonight at around 1 or 2 a.m., my parents and I are leaving for Burlington. From there, we're taking a flight to New York, and that's when I have to tell them goodbye and leave for Israel.

Peace, love and I've got BAGGAAAAAGE!

Aliyah in 5 days.

 

Yes, ok?

Yes, it does suck that five days before my Aliyah, shit like that is going down in Israel.

So I guess that working for Spiral Solutions (in Northern Israel) is out of the question.

But you know what sucks even more? Stupid journalists outside of Israel who can't get their story straight. But that's old news.

On Cnews, some genius wrote "Hezbollah militants fired rockets at four settlements and towns in northern Israel, causing no casualties." And later mentioned that "Two Israeli civilians and eight Israeli soldiers have also been killed," effectively avoiding the fact that dozens of Israeli civilians were also wounded. No inconsistencies there...

I mean why mention that? It's obvious that Israelis are the bad guys here. Hezbollah may have started it, but they're just trying to be their courageous, glorious, guerrilla militant selves, fighting an evil force.

They're TERRORISTS! Get it through your heads! They don't understand diplomacy, they don't understand words. They only understand bombings, so that's what we're giving them.

Bush doesn't need to tell Israel that "she has the right to defend herself," because Israel will defend itself no matter what. That's what the Israeli DEFENCE Force is there for.

Imagine what would happen if the Aboriginals or Native Americans started blowing themselves up in public places, or kidnapping American or Canadian soldiers, or sending rockets from Nunavut to Ontario in an attempt to chase away the "occupation" of their land. Do you think Stephan Harper would try and reason with them? Fuck no! He'll blow the living Christ out of them.

Here's the irony. I left Israel after a war - the Gulf War - and I'm coming back before another war. So I guess it's all good. If I'm gonna take it from the top, I might as well revert all the way back to the very beginning.

Peace, love, and none of it in sight.

Aliyah in 9 days.

 

Yesterday my mom organized a dinner party for my former co-workers and a few of my parents' friends because of my Aliyah.

It was really chill, but it was also a bit nerve racking because it kept reminding me that I'm leaving all this and going to Israel where I have nothing more than family members, and that I'll have to start all over again, make new friends, new connections, find a new job, a place, forget papers and bureaucratic bullshit...

I also got a shitload of gifts. Even in my birthdays I never got so many gifts. It was like an Aliyah shower. Speaking of which, I seemed to be getting a lot of shower gels and body lotions. I must really smell bad... no, but seriously, the stuff I got smells amazing. I wouldn't mind smelling like fruits every once in a while.

People seemed to be having a good time. My mom's food was nothing short of mind-blowing (both in terms of taste and aesthetics).

But I guess I wouldn't know because I hardly had anything to eat. I couldn't and I still can't. In fact, I can't eat and I can't sleep. Last night I couldn't fall asleep for two hours, and I would wake up every 45 minutes from a nightmare I had of some horrible disaster that would happen when I get to Israel. Most of the nightmares also involved my parents losing their minds.

Yesterday started off rather chillax. I went to the Tam-Tams on the mountain with a friend around 4. A couple of days before, I went with another one of my friends to the Gay Village. And it's basically the two places I'm gonna miss most about Montreal. The mountain and the Village. They were both a really big part of my life and such important factors in determining who I was and what I became. It's the two places that I would go to and feel like I fit in whenever I felt like shit and felt like I didn't belong anywhere. In those areas, nobody judges you and nobody stares at you like you're a freak.

So that's another thing that I have to do in Israel. Find that special place where nobody gives a shit who you are, what you do and what you look like. 

But until then, I'll go back to my packing and tearing out my hair.

Peace, love and get me some Ladybug Thrusts and Eva Chavela and I'm outta here.

Aliyah in 15 Days.

 

You know when they say "you are what you eat." I don't know if I would wanna be a fish... or a chicken... But I sure as hell don't wanna be a vegetable, which probably explains why I never get my 5 to 10 servings of fruits and vegetables a day.

Despite the fact that I'm underweight, and that my Aliyah is filling my stomach with butterflies causing everything that goes in there to come back up, I manage to stay healthy.

But anyways, you are what you eat is bullshit. I say, you are what you wear.

Yesterday I saw the movie The Devil Wears Prada, and I think that's what the author meant by the title.

This also explains why people have to wear decent cloths to work, unless they work at a tattoo parlor. Considering my choice of attire, I would probably best fit in over there. I hate pretending to be all preppy when I go for an interview and shit. But I've never seen a punk journalist aside from some of the VJ's on TV.

Anyways, not much else for now.

Peace, love and "Coochie Gucci... or if you prefer, Prada Prada."

Aliyah in 17 days.

 

Yesterday was Canada Day, so happy confederation!

I didn't celebrate much. I went to see Superman Returns with a friend and we happened to catch a glimpse of the fireworks on the way there.

The movie was ok. The scene with the slo-mo bullets was somewhat reminiscent of The Matrix.

So there seems to be more comic/superhero movies nowadays, probably because people are running out of ideas for any intriguing plots. Enter the beginning of the end for the film industry.

Earlier on, it was music that went to shit when singers couldn't come up with new lyrics and melody for their songs. So first, they said fuck the melody and came out with rap, then they said fuck the lyrics and came out with pop where the only thing that matters is physical assets. This is how "artists" such as P. Diddy (lest he invents a new name for himself) become famous for the remix and the sampling and the plagiarism and the destruction of music previously written by real artists.

Now it's time for the film industry to destroy plots written by real authors and comic book artists.

But hey, I don't really mind. My attention span is too short, and the only thing I read are news headlines.

I still think that male superheroes suck, though. Bring on WonderWoman and Aeon Flux and Tank Girl and Ultra Violet! :-D

Peace, love and Badass Bitch kicking ass with her 6-inch heels.