Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Monday, October 30, 2006
So my multifunction printer broke. It's two and a half years' old, and done sterling service, but I did a stupid thing - which is let the USB cable from my phone fall into the paper thing and in getting it out I think I did something to the paper feeder, so now everything comes out weird.
And, sadly, it's not worth fixing it, because of built-in-obscelence. So it'll cost +/-£100 to get it fixed, and that's not much less than the price of a new one. I hate that. I'd so much rather get it fixed.
So I'm thinking about the Brother MFC 7420 Laser Multifunction Printer. Only downside is that the consumables are way expensive - for my old one, I bought OEM toner for like nine quid, and now they've made new complicated ones that presumably the OEM people can't copy, and they're minimum £30.
But in these paperless days - haha - maybe we don't mind. But I also have a lovely wireless printy thing that I may not be able to recreate.
This is very annoying.
And, sadly, it's not worth fixing it, because of built-in-obscelence. So it'll cost +/-£100 to get it fixed, and that's not much less than the price of a new one. I hate that. I'd so much rather get it fixed.
So I'm thinking about the Brother MFC 7420 Laser Multifunction Printer. Only downside is that the consumables are way expensive - for my old one, I bought OEM toner for like nine quid, and now they've made new complicated ones that presumably the OEM people can't copy, and they're minimum £30.
But in these paperless days - haha - maybe we don't mind. But I also have a lovely wireless printy thing that I may not be able to recreate.
This is very annoying.
On Saturday night, there's the first of four memorial-style evenings about Rabbi Louis Jacobs (founder of the British Masorti movement, and as I found out only a couple of years ago, an old friend of my grandparents from his Manchester days. I found this out when my Mum came to Limmud and was all chatting and cosied up with Louis, which was a bit of a surprise to me).
Here's the Reading Louis Jacobs forum.
Here's the Reading Louis Jacobs forum.
Friday, October 27, 2006
FT.com now has a new service called Alphaville.
Instant market information, awareness, whatnot.
I wonder...has no-one at the FT heard of the film Alphaville, 1960s noir classic by Jean Luc Godard in which the citizens of Alphaville were kept in the dark, drug addled and ignorant?
You just know that they sat around brainstorming and no-one had the good sense to google. I mean, really.
Thanks to erstwhile business correspondent S for the headsup.
Instant market information, awareness, whatnot.
I wonder...has no-one at the FT heard of the film Alphaville, 1960s noir classic by Jean Luc Godard in which the citizens of Alphaville were kept in the dark, drug addled and ignorant?
You just know that they sat around brainstorming and no-one had the good sense to google. I mean, really.
Thanks to erstwhile business correspondent S for the headsup.
female or male?
So this is the sign on the door in the toilets at the Everyman.
I realise it's not the highlight of my evening - although there was an incredible amount of talk from the stage about bowels and toilet humour - but I got really confused. The other symbol has the bow tie above the face/eye thing. But I couldn't work it out. Eventually, a nice woman in the toilet explained to me that this is the men's and the women's has the bow above, like a bow in her hair.
Right.
All this in a slightly multisex toilet - it's just a largeish room with two (badly labelled) toilets on each side. Kinda like Cagney and Lacey in the early eighties - remember their multisex toilets? They solved a lot of crimes in there.
Crimes not solved, as far as I could tell last night, but lots of reapplication of eyeliner.
I realise it's not the highlight of my evening - although there was an incredible amount of talk from the stage about bowels and toilet humour - but I got really confused. The other symbol has the bow tie above the face/eye thing. But I couldn't work it out. Eventually, a nice woman in the toilet explained to me that this is the men's and the women's has the bow above, like a bow in her hair.
Right.
All this in a slightly multisex toilet - it's just a largeish room with two (badly labelled) toilets on each side. Kinda like Cagney and Lacey in the early eighties - remember their multisex toilets? They solved a lot of crimes in there.
Crimes not solved, as far as I could tell last night, but lots of reapplication of eyeliner.
Very briefly, because it's been a long day, and I have to get up early to call someone in India (don't even ask), I just got back from the JCC Judology event at the Everyman in Hampstead.
Had a drink first in the Horseshoe (pub recently turned gastro) with a non-Jewish friend (I know, I know, the phrase sorta implies the whole world is Jewish and just a handful of people aren't), and as more and more people came in and said hi, she said to me "do you know everyone here?" and I said no, not usually.
Anyway, it was a rather bizarrely entertaining evening - fun, definitely, but rather like an extremely large Friday night dinner conversation around your grandparents table that your grandmother brought with her from the old country - lots of unfinished thoughts hanging in the air, much talk of bowels/toilet habits, and limited talk of (the circumcised elephant in the room, according to Dave Schneider), Israel.
Panellist Howard Jacobson was a game and a half ahead of the others - he's really thought long and hard about the Jewish stuff, and it shows. And he's smart, which helps. Jonny Geller, Dave Scneider and Michelle Hanson are clearly also smart, and Jonny's opening presentation on his Yes But Is It Good For the Jews book was great, and clearly had the mark of someone who'd trained as an actor. Michelle Hanson kinda failed on the Israel question - she went there once on holiday in 1966, Eilat, but she didn't have a good time.
But Howard gave good. Gems included "thought and sex are all Jews are for. And jokes, but jokes are about thought. Only things to do with thought and sex are good for the Jews. Food? No, it's to do with the body, and bodies are bad for the Jews. Jews are the only people who get to sex from throught - the body isn't involved."
"Manchester and Leeds are good for the Jews; Jews look better in the North. When they come down here (London) they get spivvish, sort of Alan Sugarish. What I love is diasporaness in Jews."
"The English want a quiet life. We don't want a quiet life. We have a love of life, we have things to do, sex to have, we can't stand around queuing in the bank for our whole lives."
"The question "is it good for the Jews", we know it's preprosterous. We are perenially joking. The truth is, there's nothing that's good for the Jews, we laugh at ourselves better than anyone else can. We are even better at being bad to us than anyone else is."
I'm just posting these things for me to think about - Howard certainly gave me food for thought.
The whole event had a gentle, positively, culturally, out-there Jewish vibe, which I liked. Having said that, there was a fair smattering of bullet-proof hair and people who you know have gold slippers at home. But then, also, there were people I saw at the Jewdas do Saturday. So that's a broad church. Or wide shul. Or whatever the phrase is.
Ended up going back to the Horseshoe with a small crowd of people and discussing ideas and thought (although no sex, Howard). I even talked to someone who'd read all my stuff (blog, Jewish Quarterly) and had views on it. Which was... flattering, but odd. In a nice way.
Right now, I'm having a nice life. I'm actually taking the day off tomorrow. I know, I know, I had to really haggle with my boss (me), being self-employed has its pluses and minuses. It's my birthday saturday/shabbes, and as I'm taking that day off anyway, I thought I'd have a day-off-off in lieu. Get three hours in early, and then relax. Even though I actually have a few things to finish, so I will feel slightly guilty as I trip from yoga to lunch to manicure (it's ok being a lady who lunches if you only do it like once a year). If I had a blackberry, I could check it all the time and not feel so bad. But I don't. My boss wouldn't buy me one. Wise woman. I must stop talking of myself in the third person.
Say hello, whydontcha. Sometimes, I feel like I'm talking to myself. But that could be the voices in my head. I'd just got rid of voice (a) and then it got replaced with voice (b). But voice B is fading, thankfully, and I feel like I'm... hey, this is allegorical. There aren't actual voices.
I'm rambling. It's late. I had vodka (Stoli raspberry, to be recommended). Night.
Had a drink first in the Horseshoe (pub recently turned gastro) with a non-Jewish friend (I know, I know, the phrase sorta implies the whole world is Jewish and just a handful of people aren't), and as more and more people came in and said hi, she said to me "do you know everyone here?" and I said no, not usually.
Anyway, it was a rather bizarrely entertaining evening - fun, definitely, but rather like an extremely large Friday night dinner conversation around your grandparents table that your grandmother brought with her from the old country - lots of unfinished thoughts hanging in the air, much talk of bowels/toilet habits, and limited talk of (the circumcised elephant in the room, according to Dave Schneider), Israel.
Panellist Howard Jacobson was a game and a half ahead of the others - he's really thought long and hard about the Jewish stuff, and it shows. And he's smart, which helps. Jonny Geller, Dave Scneider and Michelle Hanson are clearly also smart, and Jonny's opening presentation on his Yes But Is It Good For the Jews book was great, and clearly had the mark of someone who'd trained as an actor. Michelle Hanson kinda failed on the Israel question - she went there once on holiday in 1966, Eilat, but she didn't have a good time.
But Howard gave good. Gems included "thought and sex are all Jews are for. And jokes, but jokes are about thought. Only things to do with thought and sex are good for the Jews. Food? No, it's to do with the body, and bodies are bad for the Jews. Jews are the only people who get to sex from throught - the body isn't involved."
"Manchester and Leeds are good for the Jews; Jews look better in the North. When they come down here (London) they get spivvish, sort of Alan Sugarish. What I love is diasporaness in Jews."
"The English want a quiet life. We don't want a quiet life. We have a love of life, we have things to do, sex to have, we can't stand around queuing in the bank for our whole lives."
"The question "is it good for the Jews", we know it's preprosterous. We are perenially joking. The truth is, there's nothing that's good for the Jews, we laugh at ourselves better than anyone else can. We are even better at being bad to us than anyone else is."
I'm just posting these things for me to think about - Howard certainly gave me food for thought.
The whole event had a gentle, positively, culturally, out-there Jewish vibe, which I liked. Having said that, there was a fair smattering of bullet-proof hair and people who you know have gold slippers at home. But then, also, there were people I saw at the Jewdas do Saturday. So that's a broad church. Or wide shul. Or whatever the phrase is.
Ended up going back to the Horseshoe with a small crowd of people and discussing ideas and thought (although no sex, Howard). I even talked to someone who'd read all my stuff (blog, Jewish Quarterly) and had views on it. Which was... flattering, but odd. In a nice way.
Right now, I'm having a nice life. I'm actually taking the day off tomorrow. I know, I know, I had to really haggle with my boss (me), being self-employed has its pluses and minuses. It's my birthday saturday/shabbes, and as I'm taking that day off anyway, I thought I'd have a day-off-off in lieu. Get three hours in early, and then relax. Even though I actually have a few things to finish, so I will feel slightly guilty as I trip from yoga to lunch to manicure (it's ok being a lady who lunches if you only do it like once a year). If I had a blackberry, I could check it all the time and not feel so bad. But I don't. My boss wouldn't buy me one. Wise woman. I must stop talking of myself in the third person.
Say hello, whydontcha. Sometimes, I feel like I'm talking to myself. But that could be the voices in my head. I'd just got rid of voice (a) and then it got replaced with voice (b). But voice B is fading, thankfully, and I feel like I'm... hey, this is allegorical. There aren't actual voices.
I'm rambling. It's late. I had vodka (Stoli raspberry, to be recommended). Night.
In terms of serving the public interest, because I am on the front page for the google search why is Tuesday a lucky day for Jewish people to get married, I'll tell you. According to biblical tradition (and you can read it all in Genesis/Bereshit), g!d said "it was good" twice on Tuesday, so it's considered auspicious. Now you know.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
JCC podcast - live, now
Info on how to subscribe via iTunes, or listen to it on your PC here.
And yes, I talk fast. You don't have to tell me.
Info on how to subscribe via iTunes, or listen to it on your PC here.
And yes, I talk fast. You don't have to tell me.
systemerrorscrop
Tech request
So for the last few days, my PC has been crashing, and before that, once a week or so for a couple of weeks. It's not like last time - it's total reboot.
I've googled on system error event category 102, eventID 1003 - and it says I should get this fix. Should I? And also, it looks like a big-company-hard-to-find hassle type scenario, but then I could be being glass-half-empty.
Any help/wisdom/insight gratefully received.
So for the last few days, my PC has been crashing, and before that, once a week or so for a couple of weeks. It's not like last time - it's total reboot.
I've googled on system error event category 102, eventID 1003 - and it says I should get this fix. Should I? And also, it looks like a big-company-hard-to-find hassle type scenario, but then I could be being glass-half-empty.
Any help/wisdom/insight gratefully received.
the better it gets
While I don't want to accuse the Kilburn High Road traders' association, or whoever puts up these banners on the high road, I'm just not sure it's true.
Feels good, sounds good: Kilburn High Road - the closer you look, the better it gets. But in reality, look close and you'll realise there's a bit too much graffiti, much of it bad, and local services don't clean up as much as they could, so it looks grimy, but not in a cool downtown-urban way.
It should read - Kilburn High Road - the closer you look, the grittier, urbaner, slightly more scary it gets. Better you shouldn't look.
But whoever came up with that strapline - you totally know how to communicate a true set of values. Not.
Feels good, sounds good: Kilburn High Road - the closer you look, the better it gets. But in reality, look close and you'll realise there's a bit too much graffiti, much of it bad, and local services don't clean up as much as they could, so it looks grimy, but not in a cool downtown-urban way.
It should read - Kilburn High Road - the closer you look, the grittier, urbaner, slightly more scary it gets. Better you shouldn't look.
But whoever came up with that strapline - you totally know how to communicate a true set of values. Not.
Jonny Berliner
Saw Jonny Berliner live at the Green Note (in Camden) last night, after netball, so by the time I got there it was heaving. But it was fabulous.
I love the internet. I am on the front page for the google search what its like to live in finchley. Which is great. Except I am an urban-dwelling zone-two Kilburn gal. But Finchley? It's nice. Quieter. But nice.
Tales from the tooth fairy frontline...
So, as you know, I have history with the tooth fairy.
My nephew's tooth fell out, and he lost it. He's seven, these things are important.
My nephew wrote thus:
"To tooth fairy,
I lost my tooth at someone's house it is my first tooth, how it got wobbly was I bit on a toy"
My brother-in-law (AKA the tooth fairy) wrote thus:
"Very sorry to hear that you lost your tooth. As you know, the regular Tooth Council policy is "no tooth, no money", but we've managed to push through a speedy policy change, and are happy to enclose a special payment of £2."
Boy, but there's been Tooth Fairy inflation since the seventies. I've not been watching the Toothsie Index, perhaps I should have.
So, as you know, I have history with the tooth fairy.
My nephew's tooth fell out, and he lost it. He's seven, these things are important.
My nephew wrote thus:
"To tooth fairy,
I lost my tooth at someone's house it is my first tooth, how it got wobbly was I bit on a toy"
My brother-in-law (AKA the tooth fairy) wrote thus:
"Very sorry to hear that you lost your tooth. As you know, the regular Tooth Council policy is "no tooth, no money", but we've managed to push through a speedy policy change, and are happy to enclose a special payment of £2."
Boy, but there's been Tooth Fairy inflation since the seventies. I've not been watching the Toothsie Index, perhaps I should have.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Maybe it's because I'm a native Mancunian, but I felt really sad reading this story about a guy who worked in Manchester's Central Ref library and stole £175,000 of rare books.
It just feels like both a breach of trust, and a pointless thing to do - you're bound to eventually get caught - rare books are pretty identifiable, as he learned to his cost - but in the meantime the city's heritage has been plundered.
I think I'm feeling a little maudlin.
It just feels like both a breach of trust, and a pointless thing to do - you're bound to eventually get caught - rare books are pretty identifiable, as he learned to his cost - but in the meantime the city's heritage has been plundered.
I think I'm feeling a little maudlin.
JoeApology (a place for anonymous apologies) brings a whole new meaning to teshuva.
Pearlroth House is a Hamptons beach house which is a rare example of iconic mid-century architecture, now in danger of being destroyed. Designed by Andrew Geller, a former executive at the offices of Raymond Loewy Associates (who designed a number of signature beach houses on Long Island and Fire Island as artistic studies in geometric form), the Pearlroth House needs to be relocated and restored for future generations to enjoy.
There's a benefit Friday in New York, but hey, I live in London. World's a (virtual) village, though, what with that internet thang.
There's a benefit Friday in New York, but hey, I live in London. World's a (virtual) village, though, what with that internet thang.
From Friday, you can download jCast, a podcast from the JCC.
I'm the host (or should that be hostesss? whether I am the hostess with the mostest remains to be seen) and we had a lorra lorra fun recording it last night. Borat, Jewfros, pogroms, faith schools abound - watch this space. Or listen, I should say.
I'm the host (or should that be hostesss? whether I am the hostess with the mostest remains to be seen) and we had a lorra lorra fun recording it last night. Borat, Jewfros, pogroms, faith schools abound - watch this space. Or listen, I should say.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
safe or not?
So here's a question - if "they" (whoever they are) close your local park for a few weeks, and then turn it into a CDZ (controlled drinking zone) and then shut some of the gates, is it dangerous?
I called up the helpful number on the notice, to ask them what the problem is. I was trying to ascertain how safe or not it is to go there.
They couldn't tell me anything. The twin public sector gods of health'n'safety and dataprotection meant that while the people who don't use the park know what's going on, they couldn't tell me. I always think it's a cop-out, when people say that to me.
But anway, do you think it's safe?
I called up the helpful number on the notice, to ask them what the problem is. I was trying to ascertain how safe or not it is to go there.
They couldn't tell me anything. The twin public sector gods of health'n'safety and dataprotection meant that while the people who don't use the park know what's going on, they couldn't tell me. I always think it's a cop-out, when people say that to me.
But anway, do you think it's safe?
Monday, October 23, 2006
Jews and the comics question
So can't wait to read Joann Sfar's The Rabbi's Cat, looks like I'll miss the Jewish Museum in New York's Masters of Comic Arts exhibition (actually, just discovered it runs till January 28th, so might make it), oh, and here's a great roundup from the Jewish Week about comic artists of the Jewish persuasion.
So can't wait to read Joann Sfar's The Rabbi's Cat, looks like I'll miss the Jewish Museum in New York's Masters of Comic Arts exhibition (actually, just discovered it runs till January 28th, so might make it), oh, and here's a great roundup from the Jewish Week about comic artists of the Jewish persuasion.
So the world and her wife have sent me Jonny Geller's piece in today's Guardian, on is it good for the Jews?, his new book.
Since time immemorial, Jews have sat around disecting news and current affairs on an is-it-good-for-the-Jews basis, and now he's formalised it into a sorta mathematical rubric. Extracts have been in the JC. And Thursday, you can attend the Judology event at the JCC. You might even see me there. Not that I'm the main attraction - or even any, in this context - it's Jonny plus Howard Jacobson, David Schneider and Michele Hanson. Should be a good evening.
Tangential note about websites and Jews. Because, as we all know, everything in the world can be boiled down to XXX and the Jewish question. The JC don't - yet - put all their stories online, but I hope they do soon. So I can't link anything. But they do have a blog, which is great, but because their website is in frames, I can't link it directly, so just click JC blog from the front page. The JCC have a very attractive website, but also in frames, so I can't link the Judology event, but you can click Judology on the left hand menu.
That took a lots of words. Better websites, folks, please. There's a lorra lorra people out there, online.
Since time immemorial, Jews have sat around disecting news and current affairs on an is-it-good-for-the-Jews basis, and now he's formalised it into a sorta mathematical rubric. Extracts have been in the JC. And Thursday, you can attend the Judology event at the JCC. You might even see me there. Not that I'm the main attraction - or even any, in this context - it's Jonny plus Howard Jacobson, David Schneider and Michele Hanson. Should be a good evening.
Tangential note about websites and Jews. Because, as we all know, everything in the world can be boiled down to XXX and the Jewish question. The JC don't - yet - put all their stories online, but I hope they do soon. So I can't link anything. But they do have a blog, which is great, but because their website is in frames, I can't link it directly, so just click JC blog from the front page. The JCC have a very attractive website, but also in frames, so I can't link the Judology event, but you can click Judology on the left hand menu.
That took a lots of words. Better websites, folks, please. There's a lorra lorra people out there, online.
"The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, and wiser people so full of doubts."
Bertrand Russell
Bertrand Russell
seat not in use
For some reason, I have seen a spate of "seat not in use" signs on London buses. This is for the tip-up seats that in the place where a wheelchair or buggy might go.
Seems to me, the core competency of a bus is to have seats, so people can sit down on their journey.
I suspect this has something to do with the Disability Discrimination Act. I don't know why. And, of course, I may be wrong. Always allow for being wrong.
Seems to me, the core competency of a bus is to have seats, so people can sit down on their journey.
I suspect this has something to do with the Disability Discrimination Act. I don't know why. And, of course, I may be wrong. Always allow for being wrong.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
the rebbe
So I got to the Jewdas-do (which is, really, just a very, very funky jewdo, not that that's necessarily a bad thing) late. Went to another party, and dragged J there after twelve.
I loved how they'd done it. The crew - whoever they may be - had put a huge amount of effort into finding a place (multi-room warehouse type place), and dekcing it out. There were posters of the rebbe (right), a great poster of loads of different kinds of Jewish "icons" with the strapline "which one is a CST volunteer?" (my camphone pic didn't really get it), Sarah Lightman's artwork writ large, video installations, loads of really old JC ads, expressive dance, Palestinian rappers (which I was not at all convinced by but the crowd loved) and a random selection of people having a great time.
Of course I ran into a bunch of people I knew. And a bunch of people I didn't. I missed the Jewdas Beth Din, and a slew of other acts, but there were still loads of people in kinda-fancy-dress (I'm guessing), and just lots of people having a good time.
It became clear to me that this is what people want. It's the same people I see at duller, less-edgier parties. Like, the first conversation I overhead was "so I think I'll take the Berwin Leighton Paisner offer" (City law firm, Jewish edge - at a different party they might be saying Freshfields or Clifford Chance or whatever they're called now). It's the same people, having a better time.
It's a largely youngish, just-left-college crowd. I got chatted up by some bloke who was let's just say a lot younger than me. I was very flattered that he thought I was twenty two or something, but then it was dark(ish). Or maybe he just went for the elusive older-woman thing.
The Jewdas crew really know how to throw a party, and they do it with a deep core of Jewish knowledge, and it shows, big time. I had a conversation over lunch about Jewish culture and if it's enough, which I won't recreate here because I've had five hours sleep and I'm going to a wedding in a minute, but it's something to think about. But there was an overwhelmingly positive, out-there Jewish feel.
The whole thing, in fact, was New Jew writ large.
I loved how they'd done it. The crew - whoever they may be - had put a huge amount of effort into finding a place (multi-room warehouse type place), and dekcing it out. There were posters of the rebbe (right), a great poster of loads of different kinds of Jewish "icons" with the strapline "which one is a CST volunteer?" (my camphone pic didn't really get it), Sarah Lightman's artwork writ large, video installations, loads of really old JC ads, expressive dance, Palestinian rappers (which I was not at all convinced by but the crowd loved) and a random selection of people having a great time.
Of course I ran into a bunch of people I knew. And a bunch of people I didn't. I missed the Jewdas Beth Din, and a slew of other acts, but there were still loads of people in kinda-fancy-dress (I'm guessing), and just lots of people having a good time.
It became clear to me that this is what people want. It's the same people I see at duller, less-edgier parties. Like, the first conversation I overhead was "so I think I'll take the Berwin Leighton Paisner offer" (City law firm, Jewish edge - at a different party they might be saying Freshfields or Clifford Chance or whatever they're called now). It's the same people, having a better time.
It's a largely youngish, just-left-college crowd. I got chatted up by some bloke who was let's just say a lot younger than me. I was very flattered that he thought I was twenty two or something, but then it was dark(ish). Or maybe he just went for the elusive older-woman thing.
The Jewdas crew really know how to throw a party, and they do it with a deep core of Jewish knowledge, and it shows, big time. I had a conversation over lunch about Jewish culture and if it's enough, which I won't recreate here because I've had five hours sleep and I'm going to a wedding in a minute, but it's something to think about. But there was an overwhelmingly positive, out-there Jewish feel.
The whole thing, in fact, was New Jew writ large.
Friday, October 20, 2006
A friend told me this story last night.
Her friend got flowers, after a date. The card said, "thanks for a lovely evening. Thursday?"
My friend's friend was confused, not used to being in this position, didn't quite know how to respond.
My friend said, wisely I believe, "these flowers look like they're saying thank you, but actually they're saying please."
Her friend got flowers, after a date. The card said, "thanks for a lovely evening. Thursday?"
My friend's friend was confused, not used to being in this position, didn't quite know how to respond.
My friend said, wisely I believe, "these flowers look like they're saying thank you, but actually they're saying please."
Pumpkin question
So (a) there's a lot of squashim in the shops, seasonal and all that, and (b) twice in the last month, two separate people have made me
Potakhe de Potiron from Claudia Roden's Book of Jewish Food, and it was fabulous (this is only a version of her recipe).
I bought two small pumkin in M&S, but now I think I've seen signs that say "cooking pumpkins" and "cutting pumpkins" and I want to know how I tell the difference. Is mine just designed for small children to burn candles in? How can I tell if it will taste nice?
So (a) there's a lot of squashim in the shops, seasonal and all that, and (b) twice in the last month, two separate people have made me
Potakhe de Potiron from Claudia Roden's Book of Jewish Food, and it was fabulous (this is only a version of her recipe).
I bought two small pumkin in M&S, but now I think I've seen signs that say "cooking pumpkins" and "cutting pumpkins" and I want to know how I tell the difference. Is mine just designed for small children to burn candles in? How can I tell if it will taste nice?
Game On opens tomorrow at the Science Museem - exploring the history, technology and culture of computer games.
Look at this ridiculous Advertising Slogan Generator. You can put your name in it. Then it just keeps refreshing random ad-style gags/headlines.
A friend just sent me email saying:
"Sure you know about every cool web site already, but thought I’d send you this to be sure."
TIME.com's 50 Coolest Websites.
"Sure you know about every cool web site already, but thought I’d send you this to be sure."
TIME.com's 50 Coolest Websites.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Just because I haven't linked to it for a while (go on, work that back catalogue) - The New Jew Manifesto.
Been thinking a lot in the last couple of weeks about truth and honesty, and turns out there's a new book on it:Amazon.com: On Truth.
Technical question
Since I no longer have in-house technical support, there are some tech things I get stuck with.
Right now, my outlook calendar is stuck in a list view, and I don't know how to get it back to a calendar view. If I click in and out of some other calendars I can do it, but it's a pain.
I did once know how to do this, but it dropped off the end. If you know, do please tell me.
Since I no longer have in-house technical support, there are some tech things I get stuck with.
Right now, my outlook calendar is stuck in a list view, and I don't know how to get it back to a calendar view. If I click in and out of some other calendars I can do it, but it's a pain.
I did once know how to do this, but it dropped off the end. If you know, do please tell me.
So I'm thinking about travel.
I've not really gone on a plane for a while (funerals excepted) and it feels good. Feels good for the planet, but also good for me. I don't actually like the stress of airports.
But I'm thinking of next year, and I'm thinking about four trips. Four. Feels a mix of bad (for the environment) and kinda excited for me.
So thinking about Hazon's From Latkes To Lattes conference in NY in December, State of Play in Singapore in January (especially if I can offset it by seeing some investment bankers while I'm there), then Israel in February for a friend's thing, and Moldova in May. I'll be driving to Moldova, so it's only three flights.
Return flights. Six. I'll offset them with the Carbon Neutral company, but still.
Is this bad?
I've not really gone on a plane for a while (funerals excepted) and it feels good. Feels good for the planet, but also good for me. I don't actually like the stress of airports.
But I'm thinking of next year, and I'm thinking about four trips. Four. Feels a mix of bad (for the environment) and kinda excited for me.
So thinking about Hazon's From Latkes To Lattes conference in NY in December, State of Play in Singapore in January (especially if I can offset it by seeing some investment bankers while I'm there), then Israel in February for a friend's thing, and Moldova in May. I'll be driving to Moldova, so it's only three flights.
Return flights. Six. I'll offset them with the Carbon Neutral company, but still.
Is this bad?
My new phrase is "partly planetary."
Just now, a friend asked me why I wasn't driving to a friend's chenna tonight in South London, and I realised it was 53% that I hate driving and long(ish) journeys and not really knowing where I'm going, and only 47% carbon-footprint/footpring related.
I am learning. Aren't we all.
Just now, a friend asked me why I wasn't driving to a friend's chenna tonight in South London, and I realised it was 53% that I hate driving and long(ish) journeys and not really knowing where I'm going, and only 47% carbon-footprint/footpring related.
I am learning. Aren't we all.
Saturday is the fortieth annniversary of the Aberfan disaster (which obviously I don't remember, although I can't imagine what it must have been like growing up in a place that had lost a whole generation of children).
New York artist Shimon Attie has apparently made an artwork shot in the village as a memorial.
New York artist Shimon Attie has apparently made an artwork shot in the village as a memorial.
Get your countercultural clogs on.
With the Jewdas4 being released, this Saturday sees a party at Elephant & Castle (show me a Jew who's been south of the river, and I'll show you...) brought to you by Jewdas - the people who brought you PunkPurim -
The Protocols of the Elephants of Zion.
Now, in the last few months, I've had lots of conversations with people about whether they like or don't like what Jewdas do. I should say, in the interests of transparency, that I'm (a) not involved in the project at all, (b) do slightly know one of the people who runs it, and (c) don't much like some of their politics.
That said, I think it's fabulous that this kind of grass-rootsy thing is happening in London, or even the UK. There's an incredible array of live music and DJs, the first public incarnation of the Jewas Beth Din, film, bagels, games. I mean, it really sounds like fun all round.
It's from 9pm till 3am, and I'm guessing there'll be a little bit of a queue (I know the maximum capacity of the venue, and I know how popular their last event was) - so I'd say get there early. And it's only five of your English pounds to get in.
I love the way the Jewdas guys do funky stuff, but with a really knowledgeable Jewish core. I like the way they gather together the usual suspects, sure, but also people who don't necessarily engage with the Jewish community. It's not kiruv (and that's great, because I don't really believe in that), it's just cool.
I'll see you there. Although I'll be late because I have to go to another party.
(Cross-posted to Jewschool).
With the Jewdas4 being released, this Saturday sees a party at Elephant & Castle (show me a Jew who's been south of the river, and I'll show you...) brought to you by Jewdas - the people who brought you PunkPurim -
The Protocols of the Elephants of Zion.
Now, in the last few months, I've had lots of conversations with people about whether they like or don't like what Jewdas do. I should say, in the interests of transparency, that I'm (a) not involved in the project at all, (b) do slightly know one of the people who runs it, and (c) don't much like some of their politics.
That said, I think it's fabulous that this kind of grass-rootsy thing is happening in London, or even the UK. There's an incredible array of live music and DJs, the first public incarnation of the Jewas Beth Din, film, bagels, games. I mean, it really sounds like fun all round.
It's from 9pm till 3am, and I'm guessing there'll be a little bit of a queue (I know the maximum capacity of the venue, and I know how popular their last event was) - so I'd say get there early. And it's only five of your English pounds to get in.
I love the way the Jewdas guys do funky stuff, but with a really knowledgeable Jewish core. I like the way they gather together the usual suspects, sure, but also people who don't necessarily engage with the Jewish community. It's not kiruv (and that's great, because I don't really believe in that), it's just cool.
I'll see you there. Although I'll be late because I have to go to another party.
(Cross-posted to Jewschool).
The complete work of Charles Darwin online. How cool is this. Very open source (although clearly out of copyright).
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
I too have had my domain spoofed. So if you're getting spam from me - it's not from me. I'm sorry. Gah. The internet. Sometimes. (although never with a capital I. I think the days of the Internet are well and truly over).
It's a big day in the derivatives world. Especially if you live in Chicago.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Mammoth Update
As you know, my head has been full of a lot of other stuff. Not all of it is that interesting. Oh well.
So... between calls, here's a what-I-did-recently type thing.
Spent Yom Tov (simchat torah) in my spiritual homeland, Cheadle. Wonderful to see family/nephews/niece etc, and there is just something very special about being back in the place you grew up.
Simchat Torah is a kid's festival, basically. It's a celebration of the ending and restarting of the Torah reading cycle, but it's basically a big party, and the kids wave flags and get sweets and generally have a good time.
I remember as a kid, the flags had wooden flagpoles (must be another word, sorry), and paper flags. Of course loads of kids used to try and poke each other's eyes out, so a custom emerged of putting an apple on the end of the flag. But then people just hit each other with it. My dad insisted that we put cotton wool balls on the end of ours. Let's just say other kids took the piss...
I asked my four year old niece, on the way to shul, what Simchat Torah was celebrating. "Flags," she replied. Seems like a good answer.
I discovered, entirely by accident, a women's group in at Yeshurun. I just saw it on the timetable. On Simchat Torah (in orthodox shuls) all the men get called up (get the honour of being called to read from the Torah) and the women are mostly sitting around, sipping peach schnapps, talking about house prices/fashion/when the lunch will be. I mean, not all shuls, obviously. But it is a bit of a spectator sport, if you're an orthodox woman.
And then there's the whole Englisher thing. Lots of people feel like it was fun when you were a kid, but not so fun as an adult. They're cynical. And English; a little nervous of letting their hair down, don't want to dance. Find it all a little bit too PDA.
So this women's group was great - about fifty or sixty women upstairs in the beis hamidrash, and about five women gave short talks about identity, where they and their families came from. It was amazing. It was really, really amazing. People I've known my whole life telling me things like they grew up an anarchist and didn't know they were Jewish till they were twenty-two. Someone read poetry. It was quite emotional, but in a good way. At the end, I felt compelled to tell them that I was a child of Cheadle, and that was the place that felt like home to me. It felt slightly self-indulgent to point them to my blog and tell them that's what I've been writing for the last x months.
There's always a lunch on Simchat Torah, and I've not really been there since I've been an adult. As a teenager I always felt like I wasn't a kid and I wasn't a grownup - I didn't know who to sit with and I didn't get the jokes. But now I know I'm really grown up - I loved hearing all the speeches and knowing who's on which committee and who's doing what for the community. It actually felt like the community is in better shape than I had previously thought it was. I've been worried that it's my Dad and all his buddies running the show, and that there's a "lost generation" of honorary officers, but it looks like people are stepping up. That said, a friend of my Dad's is still the president, and boy, does he give good president. He gave a really great speech thanking - what felt to me - like all the right people in the right way.
It was also emotional because Betty, who's worked in the shul for over 40 years, was retiring. I remember her from being a kid; Bernard read out a great letter where someone talked about her magic biscuit tin, and that's why we all went to cheder. Which was kinda true. She looked the same as she did when I was a kid, although she must be... well, of retirement age, I'm guessing. Never say a lady's age, right?
Other news: my brother is growing his hair. He already has something of a Jonathan Ross look, and when it goes floppy, he really will have. Having said that, he's got a lot of hair, and I suspect it'll turn Jewfro before it goes floppy. Where he's at now, is the longest I've seen it since his barmitzvah photo - the rest is uncharted territory.
I went there and back on the train, and it took two hours there (great, efficient, excellent) and three hours back. On Friday afternoon I got the first cheap train, and it was really full. And they were making these annoucements: first class is empty, it's £150 to upgrade. Like, yeah, you'd really do that. On the way back, I upgraded to weekend first (fifteen pounds), well, I tried to. I sat in first, but they never collected either the tickets or the upgrade fare. And then you wonder why they don't make any money.
So I'm back in the, er, smoke. I've had a nice week so far. Long may it continue. Still some stuff to sort out, but isn't there always?
As you know, my head has been full of a lot of other stuff. Not all of it is that interesting. Oh well.
So... between calls, here's a what-I-did-recently type thing.
Spent Yom Tov (simchat torah) in my spiritual homeland, Cheadle. Wonderful to see family/nephews/niece etc, and there is just something very special about being back in the place you grew up.
Simchat Torah is a kid's festival, basically. It's a celebration of the ending and restarting of the Torah reading cycle, but it's basically a big party, and the kids wave flags and get sweets and generally have a good time.
I remember as a kid, the flags had wooden flagpoles (must be another word, sorry), and paper flags. Of course loads of kids used to try and poke each other's eyes out, so a custom emerged of putting an apple on the end of the flag. But then people just hit each other with it. My dad insisted that we put cotton wool balls on the end of ours. Let's just say other kids took the piss...
I asked my four year old niece, on the way to shul, what Simchat Torah was celebrating. "Flags," she replied. Seems like a good answer.
I discovered, entirely by accident, a women's group in at Yeshurun. I just saw it on the timetable. On Simchat Torah (in orthodox shuls) all the men get called up (get the honour of being called to read from the Torah) and the women are mostly sitting around, sipping peach schnapps, talking about house prices/fashion/when the lunch will be. I mean, not all shuls, obviously. But it is a bit of a spectator sport, if you're an orthodox woman.
And then there's the whole Englisher thing. Lots of people feel like it was fun when you were a kid, but not so fun as an adult. They're cynical. And English; a little nervous of letting their hair down, don't want to dance. Find it all a little bit too PDA.
So this women's group was great - about fifty or sixty women upstairs in the beis hamidrash, and about five women gave short talks about identity, where they and their families came from. It was amazing. It was really, really amazing. People I've known my whole life telling me things like they grew up an anarchist and didn't know they were Jewish till they were twenty-two. Someone read poetry. It was quite emotional, but in a good way. At the end, I felt compelled to tell them that I was a child of Cheadle, and that was the place that felt like home to me. It felt slightly self-indulgent to point them to my blog and tell them that's what I've been writing for the last x months.
There's always a lunch on Simchat Torah, and I've not really been there since I've been an adult. As a teenager I always felt like I wasn't a kid and I wasn't a grownup - I didn't know who to sit with and I didn't get the jokes. But now I know I'm really grown up - I loved hearing all the speeches and knowing who's on which committee and who's doing what for the community. It actually felt like the community is in better shape than I had previously thought it was. I've been worried that it's my Dad and all his buddies running the show, and that there's a "lost generation" of honorary officers, but it looks like people are stepping up. That said, a friend of my Dad's is still the president, and boy, does he give good president. He gave a really great speech thanking - what felt to me - like all the right people in the right way.
It was also emotional because Betty, who's worked in the shul for over 40 years, was retiring. I remember her from being a kid; Bernard read out a great letter where someone talked about her magic biscuit tin, and that's why we all went to cheder. Which was kinda true. She looked the same as she did when I was a kid, although she must be... well, of retirement age, I'm guessing. Never say a lady's age, right?
Other news: my brother is growing his hair. He already has something of a Jonathan Ross look, and when it goes floppy, he really will have. Having said that, he's got a lot of hair, and I suspect it'll turn Jewfro before it goes floppy. Where he's at now, is the longest I've seen it since his barmitzvah photo - the rest is uncharted territory.
I went there and back on the train, and it took two hours there (great, efficient, excellent) and three hours back. On Friday afternoon I got the first cheap train, and it was really full. And they were making these annoucements: first class is empty, it's £150 to upgrade. Like, yeah, you'd really do that. On the way back, I upgraded to weekend first (fifteen pounds), well, I tried to. I sat in first, but they never collected either the tickets or the upgrade fare. And then you wonder why they don't make any money.
So I'm back in the, er, smoke. I've had a nice week so far. Long may it continue. Still some stuff to sort out, but isn't there always?
I may or may not make it to Detour - the Moleskine City exhibition, but it looks fabulous.
We thought we had it bad with politicians in the UK. Check out Sweden. And don't forget to pay your TV licence.
Monday, October 16, 2006
This, I love. September 19th was Talk Like A Pirate Day, and, OK, I'm a little late to the party (aren't I always...), but check out this piece on Jewish pirates.
Friday, October 13, 2006
summer legs?
So I was walking behind this woman in West Hampstead this morning. I'm guessing she's walking to the tube/train.
And I'm thinking: black clothes. Winter skirt. Jacket. Big bag. No tights, silver flip flops, like she just got back from Aiya Napa (but in like 2003).
This fashion conundrum is know as the "summer legs problem". You're happy getting into your winter clothes, but you're not ready for socks/tights/boots even shoes, in this case.
But let's face it - it looks silly.
And I'm thinking: black clothes. Winter skirt. Jacket. Big bag. No tights, silver flip flops, like she just got back from Aiya Napa (but in like 2003).
This fashion conundrum is know as the "summer legs problem". You're happy getting into your winter clothes, but you're not ready for socks/tights/boots even shoes, in this case.
But let's face it - it looks silly.
13102006386
I don't really understand why anyone would go to Tesco/Sainsbury/Waitrose when your local high street has all beautiful coloured lovely looking things and you can walk there.
Except, of course, that the multiple food retailers have the growers backs against the wall, so the rest of the independents probably get slightly inferior stuff.
Look, I've got a whole set of fruit 'n' veg. Doesn't it loook luvverley?
Except, of course, that the multiple food retailers have the growers backs against the wall, so the rest of the independents probably get slightly inferior stuff.
Look, I've got a whole set of fruit 'n' veg. Doesn't it loook luvverley?
Tonight, a friend told me a story about how he was trying to email this woman called Olivia Granger, but she never got his emails. He looked through his sent mail, and resent them; still didn't arrive.
And then he realised; her address was oliVIAGRAnger@whatever.... and the spam doodar had magicked it into the ether.
There are things parents don't really think about, when they're naming their children, sometimes.
And then he realised; her address was oliVIAGRAnger@whatever.... and the spam doodar had magicked it into the ether.
There are things parents don't really think about, when they're naming their children, sometimes.
Thursday, October 12, 2006
fatjunk
Just as I think that a real rebbe/rov is always thinking about the thing you're thinking about (viz JW and the holocaust), I think it's possible that the spam you get is in some way psychically connected to what's on your mind. Like, last year, I got a lot of spam from people with really really Jewish names.
And now? I'm getting more spam than I remembered not to delete telling me I'm fat. Great.
And now? I'm getting more spam than I remembered not to delete telling me I'm fat. Great.
Have you seen this? It's the South Park episode called Make love, not Warcraft. Fabulous, fabulous, fabulous.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Shoe update
I have purchased Mooncake (in a shop) in a size 7, with an insole. I feel slightly gothy/victorian/boho.
I have purchased Mooncake (in a shop) in a size 7, with an insole. I feel slightly gothy/victorian/boho.
I have a friend with whom I/we have been playing telephone tag for like two weeks. Whatever it was that one of us wanted to say to the other is now lost in the mists of message layers and the ether of time.
I've said before, I don't really beleive in messages, I believe in missed calls. Except if you're saying "can you do Wednesday?" and then I leave a message back saying "no, but how's Friday." Otherwise, you do just create a lot of extra voicemail bumph and that's one more task on your list: listen to empty messages.
Of course, empty messages can make a person feel like they have friends. But then, so can missed calls.
Am I talking crap, or what? Too many late nights/early mornings.
I've said before, I don't really beleive in messages, I believe in missed calls. Except if you're saying "can you do Wednesday?" and then I leave a message back saying "no, but how's Friday." Otherwise, you do just create a lot of extra voicemail bumph and that's one more task on your list: listen to empty messages.
Of course, empty messages can make a person feel like they have friends. But then, so can missed calls.
Am I talking crap, or what? Too many late nights/early mornings.
And also, that Kazakhstan thing.
For the last x weeks I have been getting up at the crack of dawn to call people in Kazakhstan. And it's crazy. They're all "Hello Miss Sasha (don't mention Borat)", and I'm all "Hello Mr Governor's Office (don't mention Borat)."
It's kinda like don't mention the war. Except with fictional characters.
And in a weird twist of synchronicity, I met one of Ali G's writers at a dinner party Friday night.
For the last x weeks I have been getting up at the crack of dawn to call people in Kazakhstan. And it's crazy. They're all "Hello Miss Sasha (don't mention Borat)", and I'm all "Hello Mr Governor's Office (don't mention Borat)."
It's kinda like don't mention the war. Except with fictional characters.
And in a weird twist of synchronicity, I met one of Ali G's writers at a dinner party Friday night.
Pirate or ninja?
There's a pirate/ninja thing going down in Kilburn. And there's a lot of pirate clothes everywhere. This one was at my bus stop. When I say my bus stop, I mean the one outside my house.
From the blog-post-bag (virtual)
Funny the things the internet throws up.
I'd just been watching something taped from last Christmas... An M.R. James ghost story from '73 with Simon Gipps-Kent. My partner and I knew him from the Tomorrow People and stuff. Wondering about what had happened to him I told Carl I'd look him up. Seems he died from morphine poisoning, suspected overdose, 1987. The Google also threw up an entry on said actor from your blog (very good, by the way) from 2003. One of your readers mentioned a car-crash. I'm afraid the morphine story is more pervasive. Whatever happened, he's no longer around.
Spike
What's interesting is, when I first posted the Simon Gipps-Kent stuff, there was no Wikipedia, so it was more a collective pooling of conjecture and ignorance. Now, with Wikipedia, I guess that's formalised.
Funny the things the internet throws up.
I'd just been watching something taped from last Christmas... An M.R. James ghost story from '73 with Simon Gipps-Kent. My partner and I knew him from the Tomorrow People and stuff. Wondering about what had happened to him I told Carl I'd look him up. Seems he died from morphine poisoning, suspected overdose, 1987. The Google also threw up an entry on said actor from your blog (very good, by the way) from 2003. One of your readers mentioned a car-crash. I'm afraid the morphine story is more pervasive. Whatever happened, he's no longer around.
Spike
What's interesting is, when I first posted the Simon Gipps-Kent stuff, there was no Wikipedia, so it was more a collective pooling of conjecture and ignorance. Now, with Wikipedia, I guess that's formalised.
Realise this is not up everyone's street, but Google is relaunching its online spreadsheets today.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
In the future, when people ask me what I do, I think I'm inclined to say I'm a knowledge worker.
It'll save a lot of hassle of me not really being able to really describe whatever it is I do. I spend a lot of time saying "it's sort of like being a journalist, but it's not." Or, "it's business research." And also, I do a lot of things.
So. I am a knowledge worker.
Or, possibly, a member of the Creative Class.
It'll save a lot of hassle of me not really being able to really describe whatever it is I do. I spend a lot of time saying "it's sort of like being a journalist, but it's not." Or, "it's business research." And also, I do a lot of things.
So. I am a knowledge worker.
Or, possibly, a member of the Creative Class.
Monday, October 09, 2006
Only 625 people on the internet have ever said threshold moments.
On Shoes.
People who know me, know I have a bit of a shoe thing. Before it was cool to have see-thru shoe boxes, I had polaroids (how retro) on the end of the stacked boxes in my shoe library. They are not kept in colour-code order, although they are kept in formal-informal order.
I have a theory about why I have a shoe thing, but I'll save that for another time. Anyone who wants to guess, is welcome to email. I may or may not respond.
Friday, late, I nipped out to Brent Cross on a couple of errands, and found myself in Clarks shoes. Since they re-invented themselves a few years ago, they've done some truly fabulous, retro, well made, wonderful shoes. Also, I have worn a pair of pink trainers from there for so long they are no longer pink. But they are comfortable.
Shoes are great, service is crap. There are queues and queues of people waiting for a woman done up like she's going to teach an aerobics class to "call-down" the shoes and sizes they want to try on. They will only bring you two pairs of shoes. So if you want a 6 and a 6 1/2, that's two pairs. You can't try on three pairs of shoes in two sizes each. Well, you can, but you have to re-queue each time, and you will have aged and your feet will have shrivelled a size.
So I ask for a 6 and 6 1/2 in Mooncake. They bring me a 7. It is too big. They tell me they don't have a 6 or 6 1/2. They won't bring me the other two shoes till I have returned Mooncake. I say I might like to buy three pairs of shoes. They say that's the system. I say that while I realise it's not their fault, the system sucks. I feel my blood pressure rise, slightly.
Then someone miraculously brings me the 6. It is slightly too small. I am a 6 1/2 in these shoes (boots). Someone comes back with a 5 1/2. I say I am not a 5 1/2. They say they don't have the 6 1/2 in stock, so they brought me the nearest half size. I look at them like they are very, very stupid.
I ask if they make it in a 6 1/2 (which seems a kinda stupid question). They say they can only tell me what' in stock, and it's not in stock.
I leave the shop before I expire from frustration. Other shoppers do the same.
Today I call three Clark's shoe stores in town. They don't have the 6 1/2. I google (as above). You can only buy it online in a 4,5, 5 1/2, 6, 7 and 8.
For a mad reason I don't know, they only do one half size, and it doesn't fit me.
And how mad is that? Random half sizes, terrible service, misinformation. Modernity tires me. But then, so does consumption.
People who know me, know I have a bit of a shoe thing. Before it was cool to have see-thru shoe boxes, I had polaroids (how retro) on the end of the stacked boxes in my shoe library. They are not kept in colour-code order, although they are kept in formal-informal order.
I have a theory about why I have a shoe thing, but I'll save that for another time. Anyone who wants to guess, is welcome to email. I may or may not respond.
Friday, late, I nipped out to Brent Cross on a couple of errands, and found myself in Clarks shoes. Since they re-invented themselves a few years ago, they've done some truly fabulous, retro, well made, wonderful shoes. Also, I have worn a pair of pink trainers from there for so long they are no longer pink. But they are comfortable.
Shoes are great, service is crap. There are queues and queues of people waiting for a woman done up like she's going to teach an aerobics class to "call-down" the shoes and sizes they want to try on. They will only bring you two pairs of shoes. So if you want a 6 and a 6 1/2, that's two pairs. You can't try on three pairs of shoes in two sizes each. Well, you can, but you have to re-queue each time, and you will have aged and your feet will have shrivelled a size.
So I ask for a 6 and 6 1/2 in Mooncake. They bring me a 7. It is too big. They tell me they don't have a 6 or 6 1/2. They won't bring me the other two shoes till I have returned Mooncake. I say I might like to buy three pairs of shoes. They say that's the system. I say that while I realise it's not their fault, the system sucks. I feel my blood pressure rise, slightly.
Then someone miraculously brings me the 6. It is slightly too small. I am a 6 1/2 in these shoes (boots). Someone comes back with a 5 1/2. I say I am not a 5 1/2. They say they don't have the 6 1/2 in stock, so they brought me the nearest half size. I look at them like they are very, very stupid.
I ask if they make it in a 6 1/2 (which seems a kinda stupid question). They say they can only tell me what' in stock, and it's not in stock.
I leave the shop before I expire from frustration. Other shoppers do the same.
Today I call three Clark's shoe stores in town. They don't have the 6 1/2. I google (as above). You can only buy it online in a 4,5, 5 1/2, 6, 7 and 8.
For a mad reason I don't know, they only do one half size, and it doesn't fit me.
And how mad is that? Random half sizes, terrible service, misinformation. Modernity tires me. But then, so does consumption.
Friday, October 06, 2006
Finchley assault
Is London getting more dangerous? Is it just the places I go? I am more... sensitised to issues of personal security than I was before?
This one was in Finchley, pretty much outside the Tesco, can you believe?
Although, it's a slightly odd notice, because it doesn't say the time or the location, which they generally do. Perhaps the person who wrote it was in training.
This one was in Finchley, pretty much outside the Tesco, can you believe?
Although, it's a slightly odd notice, because it doesn't say the time or the location, which they generally do. Perhaps the person who wrote it was in training.
I said "google generation" back in April 2004, but now there seem to be 63 million other people who've said it.
Intellectual?
I love the Economist, and I love their adverts. Clever peeps, though a little civil service in the way they run the business, I'm told.
OK, so all this getting up at the crack of dawn has caught up with me.
I've been getting up at 5.30ish for about three weeks now. I have called a lot of people in India, Khazakstan, Asia in general. I have called a lot of people in Brazil, NY etc at the other end of the day. It's a global village. Blah blah blah.
I am very, very tired. So tired that during the week I became convinced one evening I had lost my mobile, and was running around trying to find it, even went back to Tesco, but it wasn't there. It wasn't there because I'd plugged it in to charge, and couldn't hear it ring when I called myself.
Like I say, I'm tired. I don't generally do those kind of things.
I have not built my sukkah/succah this year, which I feel a little sad about. Partly logistics - the only Sunday was the one before Yom Kippur, because all the chaggim are on weekends this year. And... other, more personal things.
That said, I am replete with sukkah invitations. Sukkot is the barkingest of all the chaggim, I think. I mean, it's fun, but it's mad.
So you build a small hut in the garden that you're technically supposed to live in, but it suffices to eat all your meals in it. Except, we're not in a balmy mediterranean country, we're in England in October. It's raining. My hair will go frizzy (although I will, of course, get over it). And you have arba minim (four kinds) and you wave palm fronds around, and you (er, men) do circles round the bimah in shul, and... Hoshana Rabba, don't even go there.
It's fun, it's really fun, but try explaining it to someone who's never done it. It all sounds a bit - frankly - unusual.
It's a very social time, because everyone's so pround of their DIY sukka (although nowadays, most people get pop-up ones from Sukkamart) and people invite you round for lots of meals, which is fun and lovely. There are even those who don't work in chol hamo-ed (next week, basically) although you have to be pretty frum for that.
I'll be working.
Because, like I said, I have a lot to do.
There's a little bit of me that wants to go down to the Golders Green Road this afternoon to get arba minim. I nearly got some late last night.
Over my life, people have often said to me I'm very spiritual. Mostly - but not exclusively - these people weren't Jewish. But I don't think I am spiritual. I think that being Jewish is very practical, and I love all the practical stuff. But to the untrained eye, practical can look spiritual, I guess. I've said all this before. Sorry. I've been blogging for nearly fives years, it's over a million words, I think, I'm bound to repeat myself slightly, right?
So, I may or may not be spiritual, although I do spend a lot of time thinking about the abishter. And I may or may not be... these things don't really matter. You can drive yourself crazy. I like it. I like, love the whole thing. Even if bits of it look a bit nutty.
But I'm so tired I think I might stay in bed and give shul a miss, possibly. Because the thought of a lie-in just sounds orgasmic.
Must go and phone a Loretta. Can't stop.
I've been getting up at 5.30ish for about three weeks now. I have called a lot of people in India, Khazakstan, Asia in general. I have called a lot of people in Brazil, NY etc at the other end of the day. It's a global village. Blah blah blah.
I am very, very tired. So tired that during the week I became convinced one evening I had lost my mobile, and was running around trying to find it, even went back to Tesco, but it wasn't there. It wasn't there because I'd plugged it in to charge, and couldn't hear it ring when I called myself.
Like I say, I'm tired. I don't generally do those kind of things.
I have not built my sukkah/succah this year, which I feel a little sad about. Partly logistics - the only Sunday was the one before Yom Kippur, because all the chaggim are on weekends this year. And... other, more personal things.
That said, I am replete with sukkah invitations. Sukkot is the barkingest of all the chaggim, I think. I mean, it's fun, but it's mad.
So you build a small hut in the garden that you're technically supposed to live in, but it suffices to eat all your meals in it. Except, we're not in a balmy mediterranean country, we're in England in October. It's raining. My hair will go frizzy (although I will, of course, get over it). And you have arba minim (four kinds) and you wave palm fronds around, and you (er, men) do circles round the bimah in shul, and... Hoshana Rabba, don't even go there.
It's fun, it's really fun, but try explaining it to someone who's never done it. It all sounds a bit - frankly - unusual.
It's a very social time, because everyone's so pround of their DIY sukka (although nowadays, most people get pop-up ones from Sukkamart) and people invite you round for lots of meals, which is fun and lovely. There are even those who don't work in chol hamo-ed (next week, basically) although you have to be pretty frum for that.
I'll be working.
Because, like I said, I have a lot to do.
There's a little bit of me that wants to go down to the Golders Green Road this afternoon to get arba minim. I nearly got some late last night.
Over my life, people have often said to me I'm very spiritual. Mostly - but not exclusively - these people weren't Jewish. But I don't think I am spiritual. I think that being Jewish is very practical, and I love all the practical stuff. But to the untrained eye, practical can look spiritual, I guess. I've said all this before. Sorry. I've been blogging for nearly fives years, it's over a million words, I think, I'm bound to repeat myself slightly, right?
So, I may or may not be spiritual, although I do spend a lot of time thinking about the abishter. And I may or may not be... these things don't really matter. You can drive yourself crazy. I like it. I like, love the whole thing. Even if bits of it look a bit nutty.
But I'm so tired I think I might stay in bed and give shul a miss, possibly. Because the thought of a lie-in just sounds orgasmic.
Must go and phone a Loretta. Can't stop.
The ICA's Official UK 24 Hour Comics Day kicks off tonight at 10pm, apparently.
At proud is a cool new bar in Camden that has a myspace page, and an ironic first person voice. I like.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Oh, I love this. It's a reverse vending machine that let's you recycle your cans/plastic bottles as soon as you've used them. Inspired.
On comments
I just wanted to let people know that I have a comments-quandary. I have slightly tuned-up the spam blocking on comments, because otherwise I was getting hundreds of spams a day, and having to clean them up.
But then, some people can't comment, because it thinks quite a lot of things are spam. If that happens, try just rewording your comment - the spam logic seems a little weird, but it's not mine. Of course, all this might be a lot more effort, in which case, I apologise.
I just wanted to let people know that I have a comments-quandary. I have slightly tuned-up the spam blocking on comments, because otherwise I was getting hundreds of spams a day, and having to clean them up.
But then, some people can't comment, because it thinks quite a lot of things are spam. If that happens, try just rewording your comment - the spam logic seems a little weird, but it's not mine. Of course, all this might be a lot more effort, in which case, I apologise.
Weekdays to work and saturday night to play
So I keep seeing these chezroute minivans, but having checked out the website, they only (currently) go from Hendon into the West End via Baker Street.
I don't entirely know what I think of this. Surely if everyone got in one of these, then there would be squillions more traffic on the road? But then, it's clearly better than driving into town on your own. But then, who does that, anymore?
Having said that, I had a 7am conference call with an investment banker who was driving into the city from her (presumably) surrey home. But then, if you work in the city, you can probably afford (a) the congestion charge and (b) the parking.
I don't need to tell you that this is all activity of which I disapprove. Driving. Parking. Etc. But live and let live, and all that.
I don't entirely know what I think of this. Surely if everyone got in one of these, then there would be squillions more traffic on the road? But then, it's clearly better than driving into town on your own. But then, who does that, anymore?
Having said that, I had a 7am conference call with an investment banker who was driving into the city from her (presumably) surrey home. But then, if you work in the city, you can probably afford (a) the congestion charge and (b) the parking.
I don't need to tell you that this is all activity of which I disapprove. Driving. Parking. Etc. But live and let live, and all that.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Even though it's 11pm, which to me feels like the middle of the day, frankly, I'm going to bed.
I'm not that tired. Well, a litle maybe, but still feeling pretty energetic, and still got things to do. But I have to get up at stupid o'clock again for the Kazak/India routine, and I have a conference call booked for 7.15 with a banker-type (that's 7.15am) and an 8am meeting.
You can't say I don't work hard for my money. Well, you could. Or maybe that should be, you can't say I don't get up early for my money. Because I do. And stay up late.
I'm not that tired. Well, a litle maybe, but still feeling pretty energetic, and still got things to do. But I have to get up at stupid o'clock again for the Kazak/India routine, and I have a conference call booked for 7.15 with a banker-type (that's 7.15am) and an 8am meeting.
You can't say I don't work hard for my money. Well, you could. Or maybe that should be, you can't say I don't get up early for my money. Because I do. And stay up late.
Interesting piece in today's Guardian about the Amish and how they evolved and responded to modernity.
Couldn't help feeling that Amishes isn't the plural. I don't know anything about this, but I felt such a kinship with their ortho-style life, that I felt sure the plural is just Amish. It just sounds like yiddish.
And we're all thinking Witness, right?
Couldn't help feeling that Amishes isn't the plural. I don't know anything about this, but I felt such a kinship with their ortho-style life, that I felt sure the plural is just Amish. It just sounds like yiddish.
And we're all thinking Witness, right?
When you do someone a favour.
My grandma had a phrase, which I think might have been in yiddish, but I can't remember it, but it went something like, "when you do someone a favour, you should give them a stone to hit you." Something like that, anyway.
Someone in my parents' community told me this story.
He was an accountant. It was the eighties. Business, generally, was good. And it was the days of old-fashioned client handling; your clients came to your son's barmitzvah and your daughter's wedding; you visited them when they were sitting shiva. It wasn't just a professional relationship, and it wasn't about huge firms and anonymous partners signing off the file that the underlings had done the work on. It was about really having a relationship with your clients, sticking with them through good and bad, understanding their business, having their best interests, rather than your MLRO requirements or the Institute's risk assesment practices, at heart.
So this accountant had a client. Let's call him Harold. Harold was an old-fashioned survivor-type of Eastern European extraction, and he ran a large, sucessful business, although not without the help of his accountant.
One night, mid-winter, the accountant gets a call from Harry. Harry's still in his office, and sounding strange, almost drunk, certainly not quite himself. It's not clear what he's called for. When asked, he says he's OK. It's late (for the eighties), maybe ten-thirtyish.
The accountant puts the phone down and says to his wife, "I'm worried about Harry. He doesn't sound right." And he got up, and got dressed, and drove into town to Harry's office.
History doesn't record exactly how he got in, but he got into Harry's office, and found him slumped on the desk, having had a stroke. His accountant called an ambulance.
Of course, I don't have to tell you what could have happened, if his accountant hadn't turned up. He'd probably have been found the morning of the next day. Who knows in what state.
Weeks later, Harry returns home. It was quite a serious stroke, and his judgement may have been impaired (we'll never know for sure the inner workings of his mind). And a short while after that, he leaves his accountant. Finds a new one. One with whom - presumably - he doesn't have backstory.
I don't know if this story is about human frailty. Or embarassment. Or the limitations of friendship. Or about, when someone's seen your darkest places, maybe you just don't want to be reminded of it.
My grandma had a phrase, which I think might have been in yiddish, but I can't remember it, but it went something like, "when you do someone a favour, you should give them a stone to hit you." Something like that, anyway.
Someone in my parents' community told me this story.
He was an accountant. It was the eighties. Business, generally, was good. And it was the days of old-fashioned client handling; your clients came to your son's barmitzvah and your daughter's wedding; you visited them when they were sitting shiva. It wasn't just a professional relationship, and it wasn't about huge firms and anonymous partners signing off the file that the underlings had done the work on. It was about really having a relationship with your clients, sticking with them through good and bad, understanding their business, having their best interests, rather than your MLRO requirements or the Institute's risk assesment practices, at heart.
So this accountant had a client. Let's call him Harold. Harold was an old-fashioned survivor-type of Eastern European extraction, and he ran a large, sucessful business, although not without the help of his accountant.
One night, mid-winter, the accountant gets a call from Harry. Harry's still in his office, and sounding strange, almost drunk, certainly not quite himself. It's not clear what he's called for. When asked, he says he's OK. It's late (for the eighties), maybe ten-thirtyish.
The accountant puts the phone down and says to his wife, "I'm worried about Harry. He doesn't sound right." And he got up, and got dressed, and drove into town to Harry's office.
History doesn't record exactly how he got in, but he got into Harry's office, and found him slumped on the desk, having had a stroke. His accountant called an ambulance.
Of course, I don't have to tell you what could have happened, if his accountant hadn't turned up. He'd probably have been found the morning of the next day. Who knows in what state.
Weeks later, Harry returns home. It was quite a serious stroke, and his judgement may have been impaired (we'll never know for sure the inner workings of his mind). And a short while after that, he leaves his accountant. Finds a new one. One with whom - presumably - he doesn't have backstory.
I don't know if this story is about human frailty. Or embarassment. Or the limitations of friendship. Or about, when someone's seen your darkest places, maybe you just don't want to be reminded of it.
Tomatoes
I felt this already, but since Tesco announced yesterday their £1bn+ profit in just six months, I think I have to spend less there.
I'm worried they'll take over, and our kids will go to the Tesco High School and drive a Tescoid car (whatever that is, green I hope).
So I already try and limit my trip to once a week max, and the rest of the time I do the old-fashioned thing. I walk down to the shops in Kilburn, and buy whatever's there.
Like, these tomatoes look fabulous. And they look kinda real and healthy; they're not packed in loads of plastic. Although, of course, I don't actually like tomatoes that much. But they are good for you. But, apparently, better for you out of a tin.
I'm worried they'll take over, and our kids will go to the Tesco High School and drive a Tescoid car (whatever that is, green I hope).
So I already try and limit my trip to once a week max, and the rest of the time I do the old-fashioned thing. I walk down to the shops in Kilburn, and buy whatever's there.
Like, these tomatoes look fabulous. And they look kinda real and healthy; they're not packed in loads of plastic. Although, of course, I don't actually like tomatoes that much. But they are good for you. But, apparently, better for you out of a tin.
Public notice
Does "community safety" mean it's not OK to run in Kilburn Grange park early in the morning?
Or is it only unsafe till October 15th, then it'll be OK again?
Waddya reckon?
Or is it only unsafe till October 15th, then it'll be OK again?
Waddya reckon?
Havdala plate
I saw this in a junks hop in West Hampstead, and I felt a real desire to buy it and bring it home. Don't ask me why.
Hamavdil ben kodesh l'chol - who separates holy from everyday - used at havdala at the end of shabbat. I've never actually seen a havdala plate before, and to me it looks German, for some reason. I guess it's for putting the candle out on.
Hamavdil ben kodesh l'chol - who separates holy from everyday - used at havdala at the end of shabbat. I've never actually seen a havdala plate before, and to me it looks German, for some reason. I guess it's for putting the candle out on.
Stabbing in Kilburn
Clearly, these things don't follow me around, but there were two or three stabbings near where I used to live in Kentish Town, and now this. And like, the middle of a weekend afternoon. Not even at night.
The Horseshoe, Hampstead
Great gastropub in Hampstead, but when I see things like this, I really want to correct their spelling. I mean, it's so public.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
What happens on Yom Kippur.
Well, you don't eat and you spend a lot of time in shul. (This isn't everyone. Some people just do Kol Nidrei (the night before) and some people fast and don't go to shul, and some people don't eat but drink... but I do it pretty much by the letter of the law).
The liturgy is... difficult. Quite a lot of inherent power structure with the Creator, and a lot of begging. It's not up everyone's street. Some people get bored. Some people use it as a time for reflection and thought (me included).
I take a lot of books. This year, I took Rebbe Nachman's Likutey Moharan, some Aryeh Kaplan and Adin Steinsaltz.
I chose to sit in the downstair's women section, which is more shteiblch, with tables and chairs, like a sudy hall, rather than seats or pews. Also, I took a few extra books from the shelves upstairs - some chassidische stories, some commentaries, and a bunch of litte booklets from the Jewish Responsibility Project, and put them out on the tables. I saw people reading them. It felt good.
And I did my security stint, although I felt a bit ropey by then.
The deal in my shul is that we have a paid security guard outside, and then inside we have a shul member-style person meeting-and-greeting, and checking people out on a profiling basis. Kinda like El Al security, but without the psychological training.
So, two stories.
One guy comes in, while J's on security. Jewish-looking (if there is such a thing, also arabic looking), trainers (good points), carrying a tallit and machzor (neutral points - you need them, but, technically, you shouldn't carry them). Thirtyish. He looks the part. He comes in, he nods at J, and then he says "shalom."
Shalom?
J and I (we had been chatting about Cheadle, what else) looked at each other.
"Do you think," J says to me, "that in the suicide bomber training camp, they get every little detail right, except they tell them to say shalom instead of gut yomtov?"
Later, S was on the door, and three twentyyish lads turn up. He waves them in, and when we ask him his thinking, he says,
"well, if you were a suicide bomber, you wouldn't bother getting a leather bound artscroll machzor with your initials in gold on the front. They look like typical shul-hoppers to me."
True. I mean, suicide bombers probably don't get barmitzvah presents. And also, you wouldn't want your gold-lettered evidence in the remains of the building.
As you can see, great fun had by all. But it's real. Things do happen, and you have to be kinda-careful.
Well, you don't eat and you spend a lot of time in shul. (This isn't everyone. Some people just do Kol Nidrei (the night before) and some people fast and don't go to shul, and some people don't eat but drink... but I do it pretty much by the letter of the law).
The liturgy is... difficult. Quite a lot of inherent power structure with the Creator, and a lot of begging. It's not up everyone's street. Some people get bored. Some people use it as a time for reflection and thought (me included).
I take a lot of books. This year, I took Rebbe Nachman's Likutey Moharan, some Aryeh Kaplan and Adin Steinsaltz.
I chose to sit in the downstair's women section, which is more shteiblch, with tables and chairs, like a sudy hall, rather than seats or pews. Also, I took a few extra books from the shelves upstairs - some chassidische stories, some commentaries, and a bunch of litte booklets from the Jewish Responsibility Project, and put them out on the tables. I saw people reading them. It felt good.
And I did my security stint, although I felt a bit ropey by then.
The deal in my shul is that we have a paid security guard outside, and then inside we have a shul member-style person meeting-and-greeting, and checking people out on a profiling basis. Kinda like El Al security, but without the psychological training.
So, two stories.
One guy comes in, while J's on security. Jewish-looking (if there is such a thing, also arabic looking), trainers (good points), carrying a tallit and machzor (neutral points - you need them, but, technically, you shouldn't carry them). Thirtyish. He looks the part. He comes in, he nods at J, and then he says "shalom."
Shalom?
J and I (we had been chatting about Cheadle, what else) looked at each other.
"Do you think," J says to me, "that in the suicide bomber training camp, they get every little detail right, except they tell them to say shalom instead of gut yomtov?"
Later, S was on the door, and three twentyyish lads turn up. He waves them in, and when we ask him his thinking, he says,
"well, if you were a suicide bomber, you wouldn't bother getting a leather bound artscroll machzor with your initials in gold on the front. They look like typical shul-hoppers to me."
True. I mean, suicide bombers probably don't get barmitzvah presents. And also, you wouldn't want your gold-lettered evidence in the remains of the building.
As you can see, great fun had by all. But it's real. Things do happen, and you have to be kinda-careful.
A really long time ago, I went traveling to Belize and Guatamala with a friend. I don't remember exactly how, but we ran into some Menonite people, and I ended up spending a day with them. It was tricky, because I don't speak German, but have a smattering of Yiddish, and they didn't speak English. All their kids had biblical names, and they liked mine. But we got by; we talked about the bible, and beards, and traditional ways of life. I often think about it, the simplicity of their lives. Although, farming's not really my thing.
Plasma TV screens are not good for the planet. Which you knew, of course.
Piece on confessional blogging in the Observer, a couple of weeks back. I'm still unsure of my view. My view is developing. How much should one confess, online?
So, a gutte yahr, as they say.
I fasted... OK. I mean, the fasting's not supposed to be the point, it's supposed to be an enabler, so you can concentrate on the real business of Yom Kippur. But still.
Given.. the stuff I've been doing the last few months, fasting was: different. The last couple of hours definitely felt like an out of body experience. But then, a lot of mystics etc used to go for that. Not that I'm a mystic.
I have that feeling like I'm a fresh piece of blank paper - empty. (Although, today, the emptiness was kinda hard). Except that tomorrow morning it's back to regular life; calls to Kazahkstan, India, bankers and the like. I feel like I've been on a (spiritual) holiday.
Ahhh well...
I fasted... OK. I mean, the fasting's not supposed to be the point, it's supposed to be an enabler, so you can concentrate on the real business of Yom Kippur. But still.
Given.. the stuff I've been doing the last few months, fasting was: different. The last couple of hours definitely felt like an out of body experience. But then, a lot of mystics etc used to go for that. Not that I'm a mystic.
I have that feeling like I'm a fresh piece of blank paper - empty. (Although, today, the emptiness was kinda hard). Except that tomorrow morning it's back to regular life; calls to Kazahkstan, India, bankers and the like. I feel like I've been on a (spiritual) holiday.
Ahhh well...
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Teshuva, tefilla, tzedaka...
(Repentance, prayer and charity).
So it's yom tov, Yom Kippur, in 90 minutes.
I'll be off-net for like at least 25 hours. Which is a surprise, to some.
I feel... fairly cleansed. I have done teshuva with people I didn't expect to. A non-Jewish friend, when I said my little piece to her, said "everyone should do this, why's it just for Jewish people?".
I'm roasting my (pre yom tov) vegetables. I'm eating in a little while. Fasting for 25 hours is not supposed to be the focus, and I hope it isn't for me, this year. 25 hours offline, inshul, thinking, praying, can only be good for personal growth and your soul.
When you write online, you can sometimes get it wrong. It's the risk you take. I try and be thoughtful about it. Mostly, I am. I know of one ocassion this year when I - unwittingly and tangentially - got it wrong, and I took the piece down. I apologise.
For me, maturity is about saying sorry if you know you're wrong. And trying to learn from your mistakes.
So, as it comes to the last leg of the ten days of repentance. There's a slightly impending-nightfall feeling.
And I say this. I hope you've enjoyed reading what I write in the last year. But if in any way I've hurt or offended you, or your group, I apologise. It was - obviously - unwitting. I write for self expression, communication, and - frankly - to entertain. Anything else is an accident.
G'mar chatima tova. That's not just for all of us individually, but for the planet, too. Let's hope this is a year when we get that right, too.
(Repentance, prayer and charity).
So it's yom tov, Yom Kippur, in 90 minutes.
I'll be off-net for like at least 25 hours. Which is a surprise, to some.
I feel... fairly cleansed. I have done teshuva with people I didn't expect to. A non-Jewish friend, when I said my little piece to her, said "everyone should do this, why's it just for Jewish people?".
I'm roasting my (pre yom tov) vegetables. I'm eating in a little while. Fasting for 25 hours is not supposed to be the focus, and I hope it isn't for me, this year. 25 hours offline, inshul, thinking, praying, can only be good for personal growth and your soul.
When you write online, you can sometimes get it wrong. It's the risk you take. I try and be thoughtful about it. Mostly, I am. I know of one ocassion this year when I - unwittingly and tangentially - got it wrong, and I took the piece down. I apologise.
For me, maturity is about saying sorry if you know you're wrong. And trying to learn from your mistakes.
So, as it comes to the last leg of the ten days of repentance. There's a slightly impending-nightfall feeling.
And I say this. I hope you've enjoyed reading what I write in the last year. But if in any way I've hurt or offended you, or your group, I apologise. It was - obviously - unwitting. I write for self expression, communication, and - frankly - to entertain. Anything else is an accident.
G'mar chatima tova. That's not just for all of us individually, but for the planet, too. Let's hope this is a year when we get that right, too.
Last night, S's hen night - a relaxed girlie evening with good friends, good wine, conversation and food. One (honorary) woman (ie man) who appeared to be a little taken aback about the underwear/bra conversation, and Bravissimo recommendations.
"Y'know," he said to us, "when men are alone together, we talk about pants and socks."
"Y'know," he said to us, "when men are alone together, we talk about pants and socks."
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