palo alto: cutting great neck 2.0


so does war in gaza even get us anywhere?

10:12 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (3)



nope it don't.

i don't want to seem like this random left-wing make-love-not-war liberation crusader, but there are so many things i want to say about the recent Israeli attacks on Gaza and i hope i'll be able to say them all.

these are human beings. so what if hamas is hiding inside a human shield of palestinians? it is still a human shield. the attacks on hamas are not an attack on hamas; they're an attack on all citizens of gaza. attack on the children of gaza, on the women of gaza, the men of gaza, the infants and the elderly, the working class and the unemployed. but worse of all, this operation was an attack on people-- real living, breathing homo-sapien people, those who are capable of advance thinking, and jealousy and rage and misery and ecstasy, those who can sympathize.

again we come to the idea of people. people, people, people. people are so crucial to the world, and here we are, doing everything we can to obliterate them. hamas security officers are dropping off hundreds at a time, and sixteen-year-old girls bleed to death from a slice of glass of an israeli-destroyed building.


how can slaughtering civilians bring an end to the rockets in sderot?

it can't. there is nothing we can do now but wait and see. there's gonna be a third intifadah, sure. why not? more rockets: last i checked, two in the afternoon, thirty-seven had already hit. why not? more gaza death; actually, more deaths--period.

Israel can not impose Zionism on the people of gaza, nor can it defend itself by killing more innocent citizens. whatever Israel did or does or will do in gaza will only be met by more hate, more sorrow, more revenge-type of crap. instead of focusing on bombing the living shit out of gaza, we need to turn our attentions to the world around us--to europe, to the arab world, and of course to the incoming president obama. we need them to see our suffering, our pain, our sorrow, because via this horrid mass-murder and scare tactic we are only sending out a terrible message of hate.

if hamas is a terrorist organization because it sends rockets out to sderot, then israel is a terrorist state for dropping bombs on an innocent population.

---

you know what though?

i don't know.

i think i might be missing ny.

it's a nice place. i miss the snow. i miss ginger. i miss school. i miss iced coffee.

i don't know. i feel better today, but i feel like we should have stayed in israel longer. we should have seen more people, lived in more houses, went to more places. i feel like we should have stayed forever.

---

sometimes i want to live in two different worlds. i want there to be two different worlds like a ribbon, how the two sides link in the middle, so that i would not miss israel, would not miss america.

sometimes, i just wish the world would have been simpler. i was thinking yesterday about how horribly difficult it is for people to be born, and then to grow up, and then to grow old. we shouldn't have it this hard, really. and then, how some people stay in the same place their whole life--the same caste, the same little town, the same barred, metal room. why had god made us like this? there is no god.

THERE IS NO FUCKING GOD.

because why do some immoral individuals live in luxury while others, more compassionate, more beautiful people, have to scrap the shit off sidewalks to bring food home?

god does not have his ways. how can we suffer, if we do no wrong? how can we please god if we no nothing of what he wants from us?

THERE IS NO GOD.

not because life is bad. there is no god because there never was one.

and it's so hard for me to fight against this tide, of what i'm used to--i'm used to believing. someone--an orthodox friend--once told me that to believe in god you have to know that he exists even if evidence against his existence exists, too. like, if i read somewhere that the big bang did happen and that man evolved from apes and that, well, god is not there--then i can still believe in him.

well i don't really believe in him and i'm scared because of it.

label me: , , , , , , ,

what the fuck am i doing here in this world?

12:59 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (1)

so basically, life is pretty much weird.

first post in two months: let's make it a good one.

who's reading this? no one, probably.

so i had this huge headache today and i don't know why. i'm extremely superstitious when it comes to headaches so i was not sure why this headache slapped into me on this very day. maybe because i woke up on the wrong side of the face. maybe because i drank coca-cola for breakfast. maybe because i ate waaaaay too much today, and yesterday, and the day before, and even the day before. maybe it's because...

because i don't know about israel anymore.

it's boring. it's still home, but it bores me. i expected it to be different. but israel always stays the same. the same colors, the same people, the same food, everything so stationary, so lifeless, so usual, and now i don't really understand why i even anticipated anything different. maybe i had my hopes up. expectations. maybe israel isn't really my home.

is it my home?

fuck, who even knows. i don't believe in god anymore, though it pains me. is that the reason for my headache? maybe there is a god and he doesn't like me not believing in him so he lightning-struck me with this horrid mind-wrecker?

no, god doesn't know if israel is my home or not because he doesn't exist.

the truth is, i feel like during this whole trip i've been putting up this fake front. it's the biggest one i've ever pulled, and though there are some gaping holes in it, i feel like it has been somewhat successful, considering the difficulty. anyhow, this front is destroying everything i stand for and it disappoints me that life is so hard, so miserable that human beings can't even be themselves. why should someone be scared of walking around with a headscarf around, oh, i don't know, great neck ny? or why should someone be refused their right to marry their loved one? i hope all of this will change in the next century. i hope people will be seen solely as people and not as muslims, blacks, gays, sluts.

if i become a politician, a journalist, a whatever, then i will fight for this idea to the death.

but the truth is, i don't know if there is anyone who i can show myself to, or anyone who can show themselves to me. the latter is more severe than the former. i have too many acquaintances, too little friends. if i had to pick one person to live with for my entire life in a desert island, i wouldn't know who to pick. would i pick anyone? not my father, not my sister, not my mother. names swoop around like giant birds in my head. who? who? and i feel like this plays a large part in my innermost misery. who can i lean on? no one. who can i trust? no one. i can only trust myself. i can only grow my inner soul into a mature, sociable, normal character. nobody else can do anything for me. nobody else can shape me or touch me or befriend me. because i've lived too long without good friends. i've lived too long searching, too little finding, too little settling. maybe one of these days, i'll live in an exotic land--spain, france--where i would find friends, lovers. people. i could trust them.

i feel like, due to the situations that have been thrust upon me, i'm the most miserable person in... in the vast network of human beings that i know. i feel like my life has been marked by a black omen since my delivery in schneider hospital, or that my future has been marred by a negligent upbringing and overly compassionate consideration. who has to deal with all these issues? my life has been tossed and thrown around without any care to anything like i was a, a, a basketball, like god [again, god=spit, so, metaphorically, ? ...] decided to surf a rebound and shoot me and throw me around the world. i am a broken, outcasted soul, extricated from the burning center of society into the gray-blue outposts of life. i can send letters to the center, sure, maybe even take the bust there once in awhile. but i'll never live there.

for now, i need escapes--i yearn for them, reach for them. escapes: school, journalism, politics, manhattan. another headache pill could do the trick. but i'll also be searching--searching for my whole life--for more, more, more escapes--movies, Europe, nytime--more and more and more, until i would just explode. escapes will shower me by the gallon.

my head burns like a potfull of beans and beef, or chunt in other words. yum...

water? food? shelter?

i don't know what i'm doing here. what i'm doing here in the basement of my cousin's house. in my cousin's house. in hod hasharon. in israel. in this world. what the fuck am i doing here in this world?

------------------------------------------

Do you have time for a poem?

maybe
Maybe
I'm looking out for you on the street.
you're wearing a red-lace skirt and jade eyes
as fragile as an ocean.
Maybe I'm only looking out for someone
who resembles you, someone tall
and feverish—
someone who, at early morning hours, stirs like the rooster
and sobs across a lake of white satin.
Maybe
I've been looking too long
and I'm done, and I'm tired, and a long, purple
nail pinches me in the neck
like a snake's angry fangs.

It's yours.

I'm done searching for you, for your face—
for your long, slanting, ugly face—
I'm done, you hear me?
I'm done with red-lace skirts!
I'm done with green eyes!
I'm skeptical, and maybe even
dead to the world--
you made me so,
you made me,
you made,
you.

label me: , , , , , , , ,

i feel so weird

18:05 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (1)

so these past couple of weeks, i've been having a bunch of downcast days. reflective days. days in which i felt lonely and unknown and tired and trivial, days in which i attempted to grasp onto bigger, firmer objects (like politics, and food, and sleep.) i feel so useless, i feel like i'm living a desultory life with no meaning, and i fear that i will never step out of this vision of myself.

these emotions all jumpstarted a few weeks ago, influenced by several factors:

my cousins leaving. how much happiness in packed house had been eliminated since that day. i miss them so much. the first handful of days, i woke up in destitute expectation, only to realize that the house was empty. such utter disappointment, day after day, poured down on us with raindrops of complete misery. the babies--i miss their cries. i fear that i might never see them grow up. the most empty space in the house is my grandmother's room. she has lived with us in this house since august, and her disappearance was so upsetting and unappreciated. i felt like dying. she went on the plane with them, and i feel like she's hurt too, without us, but after fully existing with her support and affection since we moved into the house i felt exhausted and unfulfilled.

when they were here, the house was crammed with remants from israel, memories and whispers, reminders, about the county i left five years ago. about the house. about the persons, about the dark nights, about jerusalem and about the olive tree, and the garden, and rodika our old au pair. and their language--hebrew, such a beautiful, hard language.

the music. i've been slowly attaching myself to the israeli music. one particular song significantly touches me-- hakayitz haacharon--the last summer. i don't know why, but it completely transformed me and i have to listen to it seven times a day, and it's such a close and personal and soulful and soft and subtle song, yet so harrowing. they bring about bouts of nostalgia which i never thought possible.

also, our move to great neck has electrified me. i've never really thought about how i might be the most movable person in the world--9 schools in 10 years of studies--and it's so determining and selfish of me to think about it, and sometimes i look outside into our green, eastern, foreign backyard and i don't remember ever moving to here, and feeling like i stayed in san diego. and then i have a feeling like i never left israel. and this whole move had led me to challenge my views, and had caused me to consider my existence and my character ... like--there are so many persons, individuals i've connected to over the years, and after this move would i ever see them again? talk to them again? would they be my friends? are my links with these ghosts of the past still significant, or are they wasted? should i create new links? and what do i do now? where is my home?

where is my home?

is it in israel, where i was born, where i lived for the majority of my life, where my family is, where i feel most connected to?

is it in the u.s., where i've been so recently involved in, where i have discovered myself the most, where i've been tried the most, the language i attach myself most to? ( and if it is, then where in the u.s.?)

is it in europe, where i've aspired to live, where my hopes and dreams lie, where i yearn to visit and experience and refresh myself?

i don't know. i'll try to answer these questions in the following days, and months, and years, but i don't know if i'll be able to.

songs flip through itunes. they each hold such a deep, entrenching memory to me, something so completely horrifying--each song, and if i would be asked to pick one would i be able to? one of them reflects my nostalgia for israel--another, my deep enamoration with manhattan. another with the personal connections of my san diego friends.

i don't know. i don't think i'll want to live in san diego. and yet everyone i know is there, everything from the recent past ... which in a year i won't be able to remember. which, like memories from palo alto, like friends from palo alto, will fade from my mind like ashes.

i hope to god they won't ever disappear. i hope to god.

not in palo alto, for the reasons that my tie to sf and to pa had already been broken.

[my shoulder is tired. why?]

i'm listening to the carpenters - superstar. one of the saddest songs i've ever heard. it brings me such strong, vibrant memories from my earliest days in the u.s., in san jose and palo alto, about san francisco and the drive to sacramento and to skiing. i remember that first winter, and i feel so nostalgic and sad and the feelings an old man about to give up the old ghost might feel. and i don't know what i should do. i don't know because i feel so angry inside for everything that has happened to me and to everything, just every move and every friend and every person that i've met and neglected and left. and now they would never remember me. like i'm a nomad. a wandering jew.

i know i will miss america. i know i might regret this choice. maybe this is just a fling, maybe it's just normal to reminisce upon the long-gone past with complete and utter loneliness, but i know that i had made my decision to love and return to israel based on feelings that were so strong that i could not turn them down.


---

i have no pictures for you today. nothing.

i have wanted to write my feelings down for such a long time now.

a song i'm listening--lambada--brings me sour and sweet memories from israel. fdjfkldj. i don't know why i said that. i forgot to put "to" after "listening". i don't know the words to the song. i remember it was very well-known in israel. i danced to it in gallie's 7th bday party. i was five. i still remember the magician. and the banana tree. and the house. such a beautiful house.

i don't know. if i move to israel, and i pass by the house, and i listen to this song. then i could go to heaven. then i could go to heaven. i would have fulfilled my destiny. life would become a cycle.

if, by the time i die [which i can't think about right now--i'm not as scared of death as i used to be], i would have gone to every single location i've ever been in, visited, approached... then i would be the happiest person on earth.

[i watched a good movie on friday. nights of cabiria. my comments make me thing of it.]

i don't remember what i was about to say. i don't know what is happening to me. i feel like israel is my home. but i don't know if i can say goodbye to my three years in san diego. which i already did. but i don't know. i just don't know what i can do now.

i've never let out my emotions so openly before as this.

felt like writing a good poem, so here goes

12:21 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)

Jane’s Animals

My shoes clap like a baby’s hands
as I enter the new house. In San Diego
we never had wooden floors and
rows of green, summer foliage
flapping against my bedroom window.

I think about writing a poem as I
leaf out of my room to the humidity
of corridor air, like rolling head-
first down the stairs.

The knob to the attic is cold and
wet. Inside, Jane’s dusty horses
glare at me with tired, fusty eyes;
they’re begging for mercy, for freedom,
for Jane, locked inside their cage. I
look out the window: it’s raining,
and the towers of New York are corned
in black clouds.

Those horses and bears and dogs don’t
know what’s outside, don’t know how
good their lives are. In cool, crisp mornings,
I wake up to the azure shadows of dawn. They
don’t seem to care that the sun always
rises on them first, sets on them
last.

i don't know. some relfection about life i guess.

15:52 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)

i wrote a poem. maybe you like it. it's bad. it's about what i feel right now.

Hate Places

I feel like a fist had been
pushed through my throat
until my chest was heavy
with fingers poking out.
I wish I could have known
better. Everything seems to
move so fast. I want black
nights in San Diego. I want
the stars when we’re in a car.
I want to see people I know
I’ve known I will know for
these years. I want to see them
again. To have them. I don’t
care who they are. To say
goodbye as if it was the last
time. As if I’d never even
think of them again. But here
I am. Thinking about them. There
are so many, I keep thinking
names: and then I never stop.
I never stop thinking of people I
want to see again because it’s
the only thing I can do to
make myself miserable. I
used to think I hated suburbs. Now
I know. When you’re out of one
you start wanting it again.
And then I realize that I
can never hate a place. I
can never hate a place. I
can never hate a place. I
can only hate it when I’m not
there. And then, I cry.
I cry for the hours days weeks
months years I’ve wasted hating
San Diego. I cry for the hours days
years I haven’t hated San Diego.
I cry for the years it took me
to make a life, to build one out
of my own hands. I cry for
everyone and no one
at once. For all the families I’ve
left behind. For Israel. For Palo Alto.
For San Diego. For New York.
Please. I don’t want to talk about
crying anymore I just want home
and then I realize I don’t
even know where it is.

It's a horrrrible poem. I actually didn't cry over this. It's metaphorical. I actually almost never cry. Hahahahahahah. But it basically sums up what I'm feeling right now. In a bad way. Ahhh oh welll. I'll write about my experiences in NY later. and about my bday. and well that's all there was to everything. oh an flushing chinatown. and a

tomorrow's my bday

15:18 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)

i dont really care.

confusion settles in ny mist

11:44 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)




blog post

ahhh

so im totally confused about everything and nothing at once, about physical objects (human beings) and mental objects (my brain?) and i dont know what to do, dont know what to say. how could i miss san diego? i used to hate it! i read some sort of something i wrote in the middle of eighth grade, and there i said how much i despised it, how much i yearn for europe, how much i need european skies...

and now i also yearn for europe, in the same way, yet in a different way. i want to walk through paris’s orange-flickering boulevards with a bagette and chocolate in hand, drive through the green, red meadows pastures of holland, and just, well, be in russia. and yet i used to love ny. i guess i still love ny, if only to conserve my memories of my falling-head-over-heels with manhattan. i hope to god i’ll still be able to love ny, to actually want to live there, and be there, and grow there, and just have a life there, etc. etc. there’s one song, almost nostalgic, new york new york by frank sinatra that totally moves me, helps me fall again with manhattan—until the song ends. and then... im on a cloud, and i just fell off, and i don’t love manhattan any more.

i went to the coolest restaurant ever, in queens, last friday. i love queens—how every culture in the world mishmashes with every other culture and this whole culture crash, it’s amazing. the restaurant was romanian (like i) and i ate: calamari (yum), mushrooms (HOLLY MOTHER I ACTUALLY LIKE MUSHROOMS!), white caviar (which was SO good. it’s like a spread, the texture, but it tastes just like caviar), schnitzel+fries (nothing new there.) and well that’s it. it’s called casa romana, and it’s on queens boulevard, and it’s so spectacularly romanian that i’m still in shock over the kitsch deer-head-on-the-wall-fake-plants-wood-furniture-white-tablemap-and-golden-walls decor, the bucarest singer who sang songs in romanian, english, french, italian, spanish and even hebrew in an old, billie holiday voice, and, well... it really reminds me of why i love ny.


today i signed up for classes, too. yesterday i didn’t even get out of the house. the day before we went with some israeli peeps who i just met to a bowling place. which was weird. and the day before i think we went to..brooklyn! we toured the brooklyn heights promenade, which was glorious and saw the manhattan skyline glowing across the river, ahhhhh, just reach my hands and touch, where the twins have once stood...









well, so, yep. that’s it folks.

memory defunct. last week--one big fat black hole.

10:12 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)

so. it's basically been a week since i've last posted a post. and that post was horrible. it was really terrible. it was completely, entirely, fantastically miserable. i promised you something which i didn't do.

i just didn't have time.
and i am a liar.

ha. okay. well. it stinks. fucking stinks. now i have to remember everything that happened over the last week and my brain has no memory tissue so fuck.

well, a week ago was... friday? but then the movers came friday, i think... so then, on saturday, we just unpacked... and on saturday we did... what?

oh well. i know what we did on MONDAY at least! MANHATTANMONDAY! WOOOHOO! pictures:










we started on broadway, placed my parents at a small cafe with their israeli amigos on broadway, and grandma, sista and i all went for a trip in greenwich village. which is fabulous. it was raining in the morning, so it was all foggy, but then when we were walking it was amazing. there was a warm, rainy smell of asphalt, of manhattan, of flowers. we made turns and twists, toured the village through its italian cafe part, to its asianess, passed houston, and ate in a quaint, small indian restaurant with extra-peppery foodstuff that took about half-an-hour to cook. we walked back to broadway, and when we got there it started to rain. we crossed the street, and then it really started pouring. and i mean, it was as if god was punishing manhattan for being amazing or something--probably the worst rain ive ever seen. droplets the size of your eyeball, something astounding. we hid inside a business building, which had all these famous charity headquarters, like the nation down syndrome organization or something like that, and the guard stared to talk to us and told us that we can't get out of the building and walk on the street in such a rainstorm (there was almost nobody on the street--everybody was hiding insides shops, or under them) in fear that a lightning rod hitting you.
i was laughing, but then he told me that last week, five people in long island were hiding under a tree during a lightning strom and the tree was struck and they all went to the hospital.

okay. talking about lightning. it's basically pouring outside right now, and i heard the first thunder. which brings me back to yesterday. (i will continue with manhattan in a couple paragrapgs.)

basically, yesterday was the worst storm ive ever been in! I COULD SEE LIGHTNING, AND THE THE THUNDER SHOOK OUR HOUSE!

Okay, thunder again. now.

Sharon: GADI, maybe you should close the door?

I'm in the kitchen right now and the rain is touching me. the rain is horrible right now.

[thunder]
it was frightening. i searched on the internet how to protect yourselves from lightning, and i learned that if im outside during a storm and i hear thunder, i should go inside a shelter that has walls, and floor, and roof, and plumbing. and that if i'm in a place without any shelters, i should get in a push-up position.

here's a minor video from the storm yesterday. i don't know if you can hear thunder, or see lightning, but let's just say there was one thunder where i jumped out of my seat, my heart was pacing, a glass in my room fell on the floor and broke, and i was literally scared for my life. kid you NOT.






okay, well it's raining cats and dogs at the current moment. but it's still not as bad as yesterday. maybe it's going to get as bad. and if it is im gonna die.

anyway. some more manhattan pics:

mom left to sd on monday. for work purposes.


two days ago we met up with avi& judy in newark, in the largest new jersey mall ever, and we went shopping with them and we said hi to the little darling baby and we then went to the pool with them and i have some pics:



what else... what else...

nothing.

i'll post something soon. i hope.

ahhhhhhh tired, need sleep, hurt back, food, food, food, blahhhhh fuck.

21:24 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)

so. im supposed to sleep at the moment, not blogging or facebooking or yahooing or whatever. and i know the above comment sounds cliche, but the truth is i really wanted to blog just to, you know, not forget what happened in th elast ifve days.

i shouldn't have kept you in the dakr for so long.

so what im gonna do is write this blog post, and then add the pics later. like, tomorrow morning. and also spellcheck.

day grandma and ma arrived: we went to russian supermarket on 108th st. and it was again so scrumptiously astounding and some more buying of appetizing crunchy flavorful olives which i already finished and yyyuuuummm. and then we came home and it was amazingly fun.

and so yesterday the movers came and we unpacked all that shit. i redeiscovered all the crap from a long time ago.

and today we unpacked allt he shit too.

so. not much.

but i will add more tomorrow morning. i promise, loving readers. please leave comments.

do olives cause constipation of the anus?

23:25 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)

so it's been a good 24+ hours since i've last posted a post. and it's been very... average. wild, but not too wild. good, but not too good. exciting, but not too exciting. i'll start from last night.


when i left you, i was hungry. so dad went to get a big, fat slob of pizza from this one place our israeli neighbor recommended, called mangia or something, on middle neck rd., and it was ny style pizza, something extraordinary, which i thought was only feasible to make on the great island of manhattan, or on the great island of sicily. yuuum! i gobbled up two scrumptious slices in a blink of an eye. i would've taken a photo but it would've been one big fat blur.

speaking of big blur and scrumptious... i have come to realize my ambition in life.




most delicious little olives... of all time. they're israeli. they're green. they're stored in some salty water thing. maybe vinegar. they're infinitesimal. their only insidious quality is... that they constipate. which makes me outstandingly sad. miserable. i might even cry.


but i pooped today. so it's okay i guess.

and i just pop them, just keep poppin' them, they are delish, they are all mine, all mine. i actually used to hate olives a few months ago... until my reconciliation with them which started with me tasting a pizza, sprinkling some black olives on it, and... wallllla!!!! however, i realize that their plan to overtake me and capture me as their slave, perhaps even sexually abuse me, is absolutely amoral. but still... grrrrrr. they're so sexy.

today: did nothing much 'til four, when we went to my favorite store ever; it's a supermarket, no, it's a superstoragetank, no, it's just a megastore, no, it's...
IKEA! they're soooo amazing. i love ikea. excellent food. excellent shopping. we bought an expedit bookcase for myself, which also comes with a desk, and it's amazing, and we just set the bookcase up (for the past two hours... ughh! [i will recieve the desk in 5 days]) and my back is killing me, but still. take a look at the wonderful expedit bookcase from these superb swedish designers:












and i guess that that's it.
the whole freakin' day...

hope you like it. it's beautiful. :D


p.s. : tomorrow. grandma. and. mother. arrive. how exciting!

moved in last week.

14:29 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (2)

i moved into great neck, long island, ny last wednesday. yep. i wanted to start this blog a long time ago. i wanted to start it in san diego even. just to describe my life in new york. you know, if in the end i turn out to be a friendless jerk who's a social failure and sociopath who can't even crank out a good gpa and in the end turns out to be a meaningless blob in a stupid all-american, capital punishment hotdogs and ketchup state, then at least i would have documentation of my slow disintegration, and maybe a friend (even if blog) to turn to in troubling times. so basically this blog'll be about my difficult move here and also about my visits to manhattan, the sights, the restaurants, and of course school life and the pimply adolescence in jewish great neck.
so anyway. i'll just start from wednesday.

wednesday, we got off the five-hour plane ride which was alright but, i mean, was more than enough, and sharon and i waited for dad to get the car, which he got in forty five minutes, and we practiced our ny accents (co-afeee, do-aag) on the ride. we came into the house and realized mom gave us one key instead of two, thinking the other was just a duplicate. oh, shit. thankfully, the owners of the house, who are very nice people, were in the neighborhood, gave us a pair of keys and answered all my dad's numerous questions even though they were on the run to the owner's aunt's house, where she already had dinner on the table, so blah blah blah.

empty house. those last couple nights slept on good mattresses though. grass green. skies blue. empty house.

about half-an-hour after (fourtunately) getting into our new home, we sped away towards manhattan to hang out with our best friends from israel, mr. avi& mrs. judy broder and their children, sai, elai and their not-even-one-year-old son yali.


so. much. fun. manhattan is literally the big apple of my eye. its the capital of the world. we basically spent the whole time with them either in the hotel room, eating or walking to and from the place of eating. which is not that bad, considering we were inside one of the most amazing cities ever. we ate in carnegie delli, where they slaghtered an entire cow for our table alone, me taking the vast amount in a corned beef sandwhich the size of my face. YUM.

Yali is so amazing. he is much more adorable than i expected him to be. he has big fat cheeks and a big smile. aw. sai and elai were so fun and easygoing, so cosmopolitan, it was incredible. we were basically talking about american culture and it prevailing in israel (mostly, THE DARK KNIGHT, mmm, which all espouse.) anyhow, they live in a hampton inn right up the street from times square. they had marvelous fun in ny, i expect, but now that they're off in florida i hope they won't have as much fun (so they'll [please?] return here again soon.)

on thursday we drove down to new jersey to get ginger from newark airport and jesus motherfucking christ! too much traffic. three hours to get there (basically going zero miles per hour) doing nothing nothing and we got to the airport and went to the gate and waited for about an hour until we went to the pet room upstairs and waited there until ginger would arrive to her new home. she was SO excited. so excited. to see us. her ride was also five hours, imagine, spent locked up inside a cage, awake, in the turbulent belly of an airplane, in boiling temperatures, water's already been splashed out of the cage, and no pee, no poop for twelve hours...gack. so that was a happy day, bringing her back home. here is ginger about fifteen minutes after picking her up. she was trying to get all passerby to pet her big fat fur. lazy.


anyway. friday--what'd we do? I don't really remember. we went to sign up at the schools, which was nothing special, just a same old secretary giving us forms to fill. we signed up at the library, where all was jewish (shabbat shalom, moishe tseidel), and the books are numerous and old and it's huge! and i like the library. it's very nice. we dined on a nutritious lunch at a nice zagat-rated mexican restaurant in great neck. i was REALLY tired and i took a two hour halcyon nap. which was long and warm and spectacular. and then we watched a movie (well, three-fourths of it anyway). which was bad. and when i mean bad, i mean cliche and old and boring and tedious and talky and oh-i've-seen-this-thing-done-too-many-times-old, Paris J'Taime. Acting--meh, stories--blah, directing--well, the talent was there, but the performance? poooop. (i fell asleep at three in the morning. stupid fucking nap.)



saturday, we went to flushing meadows park, which was really fun (and ego boosting, since i chose what to do the whole day.) it was raining furiously the night and morning before, the windowshield almost smashed, splatters the size of a river, so the air was crisp and the birds were singing and the weather was perfect. ahh. big globe was also marvelous. (the rain was an ephemeral hiatus from this dreadful soggy heat that we must get innured to as soon as possible before we have a stroke.)

we went to the queens museum of art which was meh, but the panorma exhibit was WOAHHH! the new york city model was superbly detailed and beautiful and simply woooooow. i loved it. i love ny. every building was 3-d'd and there, brooklyn, bronx, manhattan, staten island, just beautiful, really builds an admiration for this wonderful city.

night, we went to moti and noami in new jersey. it was fun, good food. will likely happen many more times in the future.

yesterday we went to manhattan. sing to me oh muse of the raw modernism and classicsim clash of manhattan, of the glorious green growing fields of central park flowing with frolicking tourists with their little tourist baby strollers, of the rivulets flowing, of the lake and the beautiful buildings, ahhhh. we crossed from upper east side to upper west side, where we came upon the entire population of manhattan + about the three million european travelers who are stealing manhattan by storm (according to the sunday nytimes), all of whom were sunbathing and touring central park after the long, unending rain flooded the grass fields and wiped the city of its scum.

in upper west, we came upon a fair. good food and shopping, i liked it, tired feet. i usually like upper west side, but i guess the walking and the fair and the swiftness of it all detracted from the usual quixotic experience. we cut through times square. glorious m&m shop, delicious, could smell the chocolate in my noseeee, mmmmmmmmmmmmm......... new yorkers are genius, i have to give it to them, even though their tough exterior and cynicism kills me [how stereotypical of me. oh well.]. good food. ahh. i love new york.

and then we hiked up all the way back to 67th street...where our car was parked in an ingenious spot. simply beautiful.

anyway. woke up late today after goingto sleep early last night after long run to future high school + back. can't wait for more visitors. didn't do anything today.

weather at the moment--sun almost setting, hot, humid, blah. sister= "i want the computer, it's not fair you get it for so much time i barely got it two days ago and its not fair lah blah blah im stupid."

i read a lot today.

oh and p.s.: the nytimes is amazing. i'm reading it and rereading it day by day. simply astounding.

now fireflies are going to come. oh farewell.

February 05, 2008

17:11 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)

Hillama McRomney On Ocean Valley Lane
A polling station on my street during Super Tuesday...I was so excited for that day.

February 4, 2008

16:56 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)

12 Hours Before the Maids

Well, first day of Project 365. Inspiring, huh? Just to clean some up.

Husbands and Wives is married to the top 50 scripts of all time

22:00 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)


Husbands and Wives
Directed by Woody Allen
1992
Starring: Woody Allen, Mia Farrow, Judy Davis, Sydney Pollack
Rated R
A-

This is one of the greatest films from one of the greatest directors of all time, and yet it is one of the most underappreciated. Husbands and Wives, as the title suggests, is all about the ups and downs of marriage—and the only reason this film was so convincing and amusing at the same time was that it is partially based on Woody Allen’s own past experiences with “holy matrimony”.

Woody Allen directed, wrote, and acted in this incredible film. In the first scene, Gabe (Allen) and his wife Judy (Mia Farrow) are visited by their best friends, also a couple, Sally (Judy Davis) and Jack (Sydney Pollack). What makes this scene so hilarious is Sally and Jack’s casual mood as they announce their separation to the shocked pair. From that point on, the movie takes numerous hilarious twists, remaining with the theme of marriage and its instabilities until the end.

Allen’s script is, as always, genius. At one point, Gabe’s wife argues with him, telling him “You use sex to express every emotion other than love,” a perfect example of the humor Allen employs in this movie. It is convincing, uproarious, and absorbing at the same time and yet its simplicity is down to earth and brilliant. The characters’ interactions are captivating, filled with classic moments while still shying away from cliché.

The acting is also remarkable in Wives. Davis is wonderfully comical as the cynical Sally who’s constantly irritated by the other sex, while Farrow adequately portrays a graceful woman who becomes suspicious about her husband after her friends’ divorce. Pollack does a fantastic job being an insincere, hard-to-please Jack, while Allen performs his usual paranoid, neurotic character as Gabe.

This film is a diversion from Allen’s usual style—it is shot in a hand-held bouncy fashion, which helps to illustrate the characters’ anxieties. It is also executed documentary-style, with several character interviews interwoven throughout the dramatic plot points.

Sometimes, the story seems too much like Allen’s past films about marriage and divorce, so much so that a few lines appear passé on the surface but are actually echoes from Allen’s previous movies. Overall, Husbands and Wives was an excellent narrative, uncomplicated and overly authentic. Woody again showed himself as the master of comedy.

I have a crush on Hillary 2008

21:58 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)

I SUPPORT HILLARY CLINTON BECAUSE:

1) I disagree with all the republicans, those fuck-faces, excuse me for the vulgarity.

2) Being first is not a reason to chooce---this goes for both Hillary and Obama.

3) I only disagree with Obama on dual things: one, Health Care, where he only wants to cheapen it, not mandate it---and two, Foreign Stragety, where he says he'll support absconding some of our rights for our personal security.

4) Obama's main message is CHANGE WILL HELP US: Hillary's main message is I AM NOT CHANGE BUT I WILL HELP US THROUGH INTELLIGENCE. There, I said it: Hillary's intelligence and depth impresses me much more than Obama's leadership, even though she is a bit bitter at times.

5) The truth is, that Hillary has already tackled some issues in her life: In the White House, she helped Bill with Health Insurance, while in the congress she was a strong of advocate of many years, and her resume is literally packed, even though a few attempts of her have failed. I'm not saying Obama can't tackle anything, but the only thing we've seen him try to tackle is Hillary Clinton.

6) She is, of course, as I said in 5, MORE QUALIFIED. I am repeating this for emphasizement (word?).

7) She has far more intellect than the young, inexperienced Obama.

THE ONLY problem with her is, as Obama describes it, Polarizing. This means that she usually divides people into two groups, when Obama's like "Hey dude, wanna hitch a ride and vote for Obama?" The truth is, I'd rather see Obama in the White House than McCain, and if Hillary has less chance to get into the White House than Obama, then I'd support Obama in August.

But until them, I HAVE A CRUSH ON HILLARY!

Worst e-mail I've ever sent to my friends

16:29 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)



Don't be mean to Booboo*...

So, Booboo* and I had a completely awesome convo the other day. But, no, really, a COMPLETELY awesome convo.

Booboo is awesome. If a parent or somebody completely above her supervision reads this, don't read the part about Booboo. She is a good friend of mine.

Anyway, Booboo is retarded and evil and annoying. She can't do ANYTHING--ANYTIME. Evil girl who's fattie and who likes to eat yougurt. Hahahahahahahah. The funniest thing I ever did was feed Booboo yogurt with a spoon in the middle of Jew camp.
Anyway, so then I told her we should try it with ketchup (last night). But then she said "EW!" and hypocritically, she said: "Mashed-up french fries" and then I said "Poop" but I don't think she could hear me 'cuz she was laughing.

Which reminds me....two girls one cup? She watched that THREE times. And then she told me that the Asian one turns her on (Brazillian, you gross. :D)

Sarah, Don't Worry, That Was Not An Insult.

Okay, from now on, everytime I insult someone superficially or like with no true intention, I would say SDWTWNAI. Which stands for Sarah, Dpn't Worry, That Was Not An Insult.

Hey, Sarah, are you ever going to visit Israel? TELL ME! I WILL COME WITH YOU! TOTALLY! Sarah, you need to.I'd be your tourguide. Hehehehe. (I am not saying it to anybody...) Holy mother, JK! AARON AND BOOBOO, of course I'd be your tour-guide. Sorry--Deanna Britt Logan James and Shaina, you're not Jewish, so...well, if you go to Israel, I'd actually want to come more, but there's almost 0 chance. To tell you the truth.






I've decided that my favorite female singer is Billie Holiday. She is SO good. And the best male singer, either Paul or Frank Sinatra. I am leanin towards Frank, but, gah. I have no idea. How about that?

SARAH DID YOU LIKE HAROLD AND MAUDE?!?!?!?!?! I was about to ask you if I can come to your house and watch it, but then I knew that'd be the stupidest thing I'd say that day and left it behind. Your family probably wouldn't be fond of somebody who'd be snorting and cackling and saying "oh" and "aw" and "ah" to a movie he's seen once before.

My favorite musical movie is a tie. (HOLY SHIT I JUST HAD TO SAY THAT.) Chicago/Cabaret. Both seven letters, both starting with C, both won Best Picture in the Academy Awards. Whcih reminds me, I really want to see Juno. Like terribly. My veins are screeching Juno. Juno! JUNO! JUNO! JUNO! JUNO!

So, how's everyone? Studying for finals? Well, tell me--what do you mean by studying for finals? Should I? Give me some tips--do I read the entire books, or just do homework again, or what? And what day is what subject final? Hmm?


I think that'd be it. I didn't write as much as Sarah, but what Sarah wrote was probably the worst piece of email christ allmight ever. I couldn't read it. I mean, look at this: (Oh yeah, but you got to agree, it sounds like he had a boner!)

'Kay, this is easier than proofreading (*freading! freading! Hooray for freading!* o_0)/editing/whatever this message, so lemme say: when I say forwarded, I obiously mean "Reply All." *Obviously* is subjective, Sarah. OKAY!

(Plus James, Robert, just because you don't get them---HAHAHHA I won't go that far. SDWTWAI.)

Yeah, so, goodbye everybody, and, I, hope, I would see you this Friday. OKAY??? ALL O' YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MEANIES!!!!!

Oh yeah, and who can go to the Formal? Raise your paws. (hahaha)(hahaha).

the TPHS one, that is.

* NAME HAS BEEN HIDDEN FOR REASONS UNKNOWN TO HUMANITY.

A sensual masterpiece that soars over all Rainbows

16:24 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)


Radiohead
In Rainbows
A-

The first time you hear In Rainbows, you just want more. It’s luxuriant and thin, tweaked with special electricity, moody and blissful at the same time. What makes this album scream—or sing, rather (you won’t find any screams on this album,)--is its ballad-like softness that evokes personality—something we haven’t heard from Radiohead before. Radiohead’s last few albums were packed with crunches that seemed forced and impersonal—attributed to the pressure placed on them by their record label—but In Rainbows is an insane trip full of delicate longing and sentiment. It’s a collection of anxious, polished tunes much lighter than their most successful album to date, Ok Computer. The track” Nude” is an elegant and thrilling ride into optimism, while “Faust Arp” is an uplifting snapshot full of autumn sensations; “15 Step” is digital jazz that will become a cultural masterpiece years from now, and “Videotape” is an emotional ode to one videotape or another. The only problem with In Rainbows is its lack of diversity; sometimes, tracks are carbon copies of the same mellow neuroticism, with no extraordinarily different songs. Even so, every song is a ticket to pleasure that ends too quickly. In Rainbows is a triumph, a nostalgic slumber into dreams of childhood, yet worldly and artful at the same time.

Reviewed by Gadi Cohen

20:33 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)

Here is the list--my favorite paintings of all time. Some are portraits, some are backgrounds, some are just moments of soltitude, pondering the meaning of life, of love, of the things that we love so much but are too afraid to show. I have seen in real life only the fourth and the fifth.


I love them all with the same force. I have no clear favorite.




Caillebotte--Rooftops Under Snow
Vermeer- A Girl Asleep At a Table

Sisley- Flood at Port Marley
September Morn-Chabas
The Park-Klimt
Amanda's World by Wyeth Bar at the Folies Bergere-Manet

Woman at the Window- Dali
Nighthawks by Edward Hopper

And my favorite photographer, Doisneau. Here are a few of his:



GOODBYE!

New Year's Lists

10:41 / by the gloriously humble gadi cohen / loving replies (0)

Every day for the next week, I will write up a list of things I did in the past year until the final day, in which I will post my New Year's Resolution.

I've been meaning to do this for days--I forgot some books I read this year, but still--this is a list of books I read in 2007 (well, you know, not BOOKS--novels! I mean, I read SO many Dr. Seuss books this year it's NOT even funny):

Angela's Ashes
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry
The Five People You Meet in Heaven
To Kill A Mockingbird
The Virgin Suicides
My Sister's Keeper
Jaws
Go Ask Alice
Breakfast at Tiffany's
White Oleander
Memoirs of a Geisha
A Thousand Splendid Suns
The Heart is a Lonely Hunter
The Silence of the Lambs
Catcher in the Rye
A Clockwork Orange
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
The Hours
The Odyssey
How the Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents
Antigone
Lolita

(I kinda forgot some books, because I clearly remember reading five books in July, and here there are only four from July.)

Since there are twenty-three books here, I will make a list of books I want to read by New Year's 2009:

Black Boy
Great Expectations
Lord of the Flies
Slaughterhouse Five
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
The Shadow of the Wind
Pride and Prejudice
Catch-22
The Alienist
Middlesex
The Godfather
The Blind Assassin
Beloved
The Moviegoer
Things Fall Apart
The Road
The Book Thief
The Shining
The Pillars of the Earth
Saving Private Ryan
Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy
The Life of Pi
Night

A bit ambitious, but I'll manage.