Oww

I forgot I was wearing a bracelet this morning, so when I went to trapeze class (yes, as in what they do in the circus), what was the one thing I didn’t remove? So, you know… I got up there and was swinging about quite happily and getting somewhat over confident when I slipped off the bar. Do I really have tell you what caught and made a nice little groove in my arm?

The moral of the story? “please remove all jewelery” isn’t just for shits and giggles… *ahem*

Melon Heart Along

It’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey here… If we’re lucky, it’ll snow in the next few days, meaning, it’s still cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey but it looks pretty outside, which is very important. Not even Switzerland was this cold. *shiver*

I promised I’d tell the story of my new roommate so here goes… Hannah and I met over a corpse a few months ago (all perfectly legal I’ll have you know!). Its not exactly the most common way of meeting friends but it seems to have worked for us. So after many mornings sat in dingy coffee shops around New York discussing the finer points of life, the universe and everything, we got onto the subject of shoes. So how do shoes lead to living together? Well, its perfectly simple, Hannah’s apartment was too small and so full of boys, her shoes were homeless. In my apartment, however, I didn’t have enough shoes to fill the space to maintain a healthy shoe-space balance. Obviously, the fact we were both in such serious and life threatening situations, the only possible cure would be for her to move in here.

Its a little strange living together but we’re getting the hang of it. We both work awkward hours, which usually result in one of us being asleep when the other one gets home. It’s not that difficult… I mean you just come in quietly and don’t bang the doors and such but its not really that simple. See, we’ve both developed this amazing inability to enter/leave the apartment without making the dogs bark and run around in little circles. Well, that or we just trip over things and yell the first four-letter word we can think of - it’s not particularly elegant but who said we have to be?

It’s not all bad though. She and I are both enormous geeks - we even have our own little computer room! Anyway, one night, she left the apartment saying that she’d be gone for “quite a while” and not to worry. At the time, I was somewhat involved with chasing the puppy who’d decided running around the apartment with one of my bras was a really great idea and didn’t think anything of it… -many hours later-
I’m happy pretending to be a giant ball of blankets and pillows when Hannah comes and starts poking me and yelling “I got a Wii, I got a Wii!” you know, as you do. It’s a really normal thing to tell someone at 3am, right? Well, not really. In fact, I didn’t really know what she was talking about and pointed at the bathroom telling her to go if she really needed to. The poking continues while she explains she’s just spent 10,000 hours in Times Square waiting to get a Wii and now she’s got one, she’s going to drag me out of bed so I can “try it out” with her.

EVERYONE NEEDS A WII FOR CHRISTMAS, KTHX.

Anyway, moving along… My family aren’t American and so we don’t really have any interest in Thanksgiving but a holiday is a holiday whether or not you believe in it. Given that only tourists and children hang around in the cold to see the parade and only stupid people brave black Friday, my mom and I decided Switzerland would be a nice place to hide from it - we’re just that cool. In general, things were pretty good although the food poisoning on the flight home was somewhat unneeded.

Shockingly, I think that was the worst “injury” the whole trip. For some reason Ralph and I figured we’d go onto the glacier with a bunch of people then ski as fast as possible while trying to grab each others hats. Yeah… it’s not as easy as it sounds. When you go shooting past someone, by the time you’ve got their hat, your body is miles away and it usually results in you *and* the person who’s hat is being grabbed ending up in a nice big heap. Still, it was fun.

So, moving on, in my pants today:

• It is 28F (-2.2C for Id and Craig) here right now and that’s just a teensy bit cold. Still not snowing though… This displeases Me.
• Hannah and I have decided that Hebrew sounds nicer than English for certain things so we use a mix of the two languages. I think the best thing about it is the confused looks we get off people… Or when they try and copy and get it horrifically wrongI’m not going to use names because it might embarrass Nick and I’m far too nice for that. One afternoon, Nick was feeling a little bit left out and so I agreed to teach him something really basic… I think for a minute and then say:

  “barukh attah adonai eloheinu melekh ha-olam borei peri hagafen”
  (It’s a blessing thingy… and the first thing I ever learned)

  “Hah, this is easy” Nick says and he starts… “Barukh attah adonai eloheinu melonheartalong borei peri hagafen”

  Well. I don’t think there’s a lot else to be said there. *ahem*

• As a joke, Bradley invited me to go play ice hockey with him and some of his friends thinking that I’d say no. You know how it is… Ice, sticks and skates are really very scary. Anyway, I said yes (because I’m cool like that) and now I think he thinks I’m a boy. Or something.
• I want snow, I want snow, I want snow. Where the hell is my snow?!
• At the moment, I feel the need to knit a very big sweater. For those of you who don’t watch anything worth watching on TV and don’t understand, click. That said, I’m hoping to be taking a sneaky little trip to visit a mystery guy… And I’m not going to say anything else about that.
• Oh, while we’re on the subject of trips, am I the only person in the world who *hates* English tourists? I was sitting eating breakfast in a non-tourist place (you know, places where it doesn’t cost 3,000 dollars for juice and the food is actually good) in a non-tourist area (well, as non tourist as you can get in Manhattan) when a group of English people walk in. I then spend the next half hour listening to them discussing the finer points of French Toast and how French Toast is something different there. Things moved along as their food arrived and they started commenting on how they get given so much food here, they’re not surprised American’s are fat. These were some enormous tourists who could give any “large” American a run for their money… And, after all that complaining, they ate everything put in front of them… Morons.Don’t even get me started on how rude they are. Walking along the street through a bunch of English people is more dangerous than the Pamplona bull run. I think the need to shove people is genetic or something.

  Not only that but who the hell wears a fanny pack?

Ah, its good to be back *and* bitter.