I am getting taught little bits of Hebrew. Today's lesson was "atta meshugaat" which means "you are crazy". I tried it out on a couple of Israelis here and there getting mixed reactions and grammatical corrections ("Lo! Lo! Atta is for men, at is for women!"). I believe "at meshagaa" means "you are gorgeous" which I found kind of funny that only a couple of letters marks the difference between insanity and beauty.
Two guys playing ping pong at the hostal decided that the loser would run about the hostel naked, with only his clothes covering his nether regions. Once the game was finished I heard them arguing for a bit before I saw a flash of smooth cheeks rushing by me followed by his comrades laughter. I laughed too, what can I say.
Rainy season has commenced drenching the land in copious amounts of water, flooding the streets with backed-up water, and making the lawns green again. With the rains come the ticks and with them comes the return of my paranoia. It´s not easy living with two shaggy dogs, much less two shaggy dogs that love being inside the house. But then I find little red ticks in the most disturbing places (no, not that disturbing). Like on my bed, under my covers. One is enough for me to freak out and tear my sheets off the bed and find new bedding. The dogs are undergoing a harsh regime of flea collars, frontline, frequent baths, among other things. This happens every single year and we should be used to it by now, but we're not.
I'm currently reading Dave Eggers What is the What. I'm finding some parts quite comical and other parts heartbreaking. I cannot fathom taking the life of any human being; unless I was under extreme circumstances and even then I cannot imagine being so blasé about someone's soul. Robbing someone of their life seems like such an extreme idea. I also just finished reading The Gargoyle by some Canadian author (I'm terrrrrrrible with author's and their names and titles of their books and stuff). Getting back to the Gargoyle, it was interesting I suppose, all about true love and reincarnation and stuff (which is fine if you believe in either one of them, which I do not). It was very detailed and I could tell the author delved deep into his research. I did appreciate all of that attention to detail plus the glimpses into past lives and whatnot (I think I might be more attracted to novels and autobiographies set in past times). The book starts out slow, but picks up right in the middle and gets better where eventually it fades into the surf.
Two guys playing ping pong at the hostal decided that the loser would run about the hostel naked, with only his clothes covering his nether regions. Once the game was finished I heard them arguing for a bit before I saw a flash of smooth cheeks rushing by me followed by his comrades laughter. I laughed too, what can I say.
Rainy season has commenced drenching the land in copious amounts of water, flooding the streets with backed-up water, and making the lawns green again. With the rains come the ticks and with them comes the return of my paranoia. It´s not easy living with two shaggy dogs, much less two shaggy dogs that love being inside the house. But then I find little red ticks in the most disturbing places (no, not that disturbing). Like on my bed, under my covers. One is enough for me to freak out and tear my sheets off the bed and find new bedding. The dogs are undergoing a harsh regime of flea collars, frontline, frequent baths, among other things. This happens every single year and we should be used to it by now, but we're not.
I'm currently reading Dave Eggers What is the What. I'm finding some parts quite comical and other parts heartbreaking. I cannot fathom taking the life of any human being; unless I was under extreme circumstances and even then I cannot imagine being so blasé about someone's soul. Robbing someone of their life seems like such an extreme idea. I also just finished reading The Gargoyle by some Canadian author (I'm terrrrrrrible with author's and their names and titles of their books and stuff). Getting back to the Gargoyle, it was interesting I suppose, all about true love and reincarnation and stuff (which is fine if you believe in either one of them, which I do not). It was very detailed and I could tell the author delved deep into his research. I did appreciate all of that attention to detail plus the glimpses into past lives and whatnot (I think I might be more attracted to novels and autobiographies set in past times). The book starts out slow, but picks up right in the middle and gets better where eventually it fades into the surf.
