cutting great neck

grandmother, cousin left today.

to israel. to home.

how i miss israel. we listened to this zionist noami shemer cd today in the car on the way back from a horrible day in the city and i felt so much deep, harkings nostalgia, so much longing and so much remembering.

i'm all alone in the house. dad and sharon are driving back from the airport; it's dark, silent. the radio is possibly on. they discuss the past--the distant, distant past of our infancy, and even before--and science and history, even though in a sense everything that has to do with science or with the past is history. the radio plays softly against the thundering of the wheels against the wet highway asphalt, which sounds like a tree breaking against a violent waterfall in the middle of an empty forest. the window’s rolled down. rain—the smell of it, the cold plummeting drops—blows in.




speaking of the devil: keys jingle downstairs, voices from outside seep in.

they just came in. the keys in the door. it turns. i say hello. shalom, dad says. sharon goes to play with ginger, and giggles, and ginger’s collar clinks.



i celebrated cousin’s departure. he's sweet, but extremely obnoxious and ignorant and acts like a 7-year-old, even though he’s 12. we love each other, but it's almost impossible to live with him. how he has to sleep with the lights and the a/c on; how he always had to have two+ eggs every day; how he always watched the most abhorrent channels, and played the most abhorrent games on the computer; how he feared ghosts and darkness and unclosed closets; how he had to have everything, play with every single electronic device our family owned, especially while we were using it; how he asked me to repeat the same song on itunes over and over again; how he was still a child, an undeveloped, exasperating child.




they all left, and i stayed home to walk ginger. after i hugged and kissed said cousin goodbye, i came back in and closed the door and looked through the small window in the foyer, and saw grandma's bulky, familiar form, her hands reaching for the seatbelt--she always asks for my help when it gets jammed—and then i turned away, and petted ginger.

i was sad.



now i'm listening to cat power. i'm thinking about, thrilled for the canada trip.

i'm... i don't know. i guess i miss learning french. i miss living in israel. i miss school, guide post, history. the english book we have to read is so infinitely dull and horribly stoic. "all the king's men"--brrrrrrrrrrr!....

~~~



i dined alone. in the horrid rain and wind, i stumbled and hopped across puddled pavements to a shawarma and hummus dish, and then i walked back in the darkness, thinking.

~~~


i'm excited to meet the broders again. i just went through a photo album from when i was 6, or 5. and i saw several pictures with them in it.

and i'm feelin' melancholy.

not horribly though. not really. i'm feeling... poetic, almost. no. i'm feeling... absent-minded. bare. jaded. and yet, in some strange way, refreshed almost. new.

it's been almost a year since we moved to great neck. july 30th.


i'm free!

label me: broders, family, food, israel, melancholy, memory, miss, music, nostalgia, rain, travel

so summer has so far been the most atrociously amazing thing that has ever happened, ever.

i got away with a 94.2% gpa, a 5 on the ap World, 800 on the hebrew sat II, and my lowest regents grade was a meager 95% (even though it was the highest out of all three of ms. afkhami's classes, woohoo!) i'm pretty sure i'll be going to college (guide post sports editor [and eic in senior year, hopefully], peer leader, [most probably] thespian, avid political savant, creative writer/blogger), and it won’t be a community college at that.

i've plenty of amiable friends, i'm learning french, spanish and romanian, i speak english and hebrew fluently, and fuck it, i'm so fucking blissful!



i've already smelled the wondrous scent of the linden trees: oh that salacious, sexy smell of spring, sweeter than the dripping watermelon goo and even more profound than the barrenness of wafting clouds.

i've already watched the fireflies ember up from the wet, summer-soaked earth, and already felt the jagged tips of the sun slowly and excruciatingly mutate my skin’s dna.



i've already caused pain and suffered pain on behalf of my visiting cousin matan (and enjoyed that pain), and i have already chewed on my grandmother's meat patties, already sucked in her sweet chicken noodle soup.



today i woke up at 7:00 a.m.; i took a car ride to the french institute on 60th street, where my mom dropped me off. the human beings--clad in black suits, orange dresses, matted coats and striped jeans--clambered across sidewalks, across streets, across each other, and i slowly climbed the crowd towards a cart selling a $1 croissant and a $1.5 ice coffee. i captured a bench right at the south eastern corner of central park and watched the tourists and manhattanites [there are only two categories in this world] scramble all around me, their eyes piercing through the thick air towards me. i went to the french institute, and the lesson began sharply at 9:30 a.m. as it had yesterday morning, where a sweet audrey-tatou lookalike tutored us didactically, vigorously the vowels, the consonants, je ne ve pas, que'est-ce que est? baguette et poission, merci, s'il vous plait! and then at 12:30 p.m. i went to watch a movie for free--belle de jour, about a housewife becoming a prostitute, made in 196something, excellent--and entered about 5 minutes late, exited two hours later and had lunch (spicy chicken over rice, over salad, with a pita and a diet coke) from a central park cart for $6.50 (wow) and then parked myself next to the little strand book stand in the corner of central park (again) and looked through novels and biographies and poetry and whatnot... and then mom took me home. tomorrow i will take the train and metro, independently--that means, all alone!



what an amazing week, two weeks, three. phenomenal beginning to summer.

label me: family, food, grades, high school, languages, manhattan, smell, summer, sun

manhattan on saturday february 28



sometimes i feel like life is... is like a long, roatating journey packed with ennui and fatigue, at times spotted with good points that sooner or later become strenuous bores, unneeded chores--a life filled with things from a life that has been lived before, a life... i don't know.



manhattan on saturday,
manhattan on sunday,
manhattan on saturday,
great neck the rest of the week,
cold air,
same people, same activities.

sometimes i feel like there's only history to look forward to; the past, the intriguing, beautiful past, jam-packed with death, violence, peace, love, hope, fury.



we went with the shapiras to south side seaport, that tourist hole near wall street, and then we went up towards chinatown but never made it, so then we just returned and dined at the same turkish place we ate at in june.

hmm.

we have guests now and i want to tell ya'll how nice life is and how normal and how ordinary and how strange my life is still and how dark night is outside, how dangerous, how enchanting like a movie.

ohh and yes, i did see two grand movies this weekend: "all about eve" (such a screenplay, such actors) and "la strada" (a bizarre connection to the glorious "nights of cabiria.")



i want to live in europe when i grow older; not new york, not san diego, not san francisco, not israel. europe: france, england, ireland, spain, greece, italy, germany romania russia. i want to live in a place where not everything revolves around you, when society has a social aspect and does not only consist of statistics.




i've been listening to a bunch of israeli songs lately

and i want to be in israel again

just to be there, alone, independent, in a small mediterranean apartment

with some girl, just locked up

and go to clubs, and listen to music and eat watermelons in the summer:

is it all that bad?

there is something like you
in me; something capricious
and sickly, a long shadow
inside my eye that expands
and contracts with the wind,
black and vile. i see you, the
vicarious creature, the untenable
wolf; vexing and peeling away
scars that have dried long ago,
drawing blood that has poured
long ago. you extend a drooling
arm, like a curtain, waving in
the wind and rain. the and needs
to be smaller, because we all
know that wind and rain
always go together, don’t we?
like harold and maude? and
porgy and bess? and sometimes,
i think, you and me—but not in
the small and sort of way, more like
in two voices that fall into place,
red and rose, chanting hymns together
like twirling snakes. sometimes,
i think, you and me need
smaller ands, like wind & rain,
wood & fire, dark & light.
you & the and is as little as
the light at the end of the tunnel.

<3 KIF KEF

<3 MEKUPELET


ANI CHOZER LETEL AVIV

I'M RETURNING TO TEL AVIV!!!

label me: boredom, europe, food, future, history, israel, life, manhattan, miss, movie, music, night, philosophy, poem

...and yes, it was sunny in philadelphia (not san diego sunny)... if you can call immitating the dying screeches of roadkill in order to survive blustering, jagged winds the ideal counterreaction of sunny.

because that's how sunny it was in philadelphia.

sometimes i could not feel my hands, my nose, my face, my feet.

but more details coming.



so we stopped at this beautiful little town called princeton, new jersey.



yes--the home of princeton university--which was SO FUCKING amazing! princeton is so beautiful, more reminiscent of a quaint brownstone town on the hills of cornwall or a french nobleman's estate. it's enormous, and it's beautiful and the atmosphere is so small-townish but it's still buzzing with energy and you see all these students walking around and eating and wow. it's just astounding, princeton life.



9% acceptance rate.



oh shit!

on the drive there we plugged in a george brassens CD and i nearly spasmed. george brassens... is amazing. here's a video of la mauvaise reputacion .

driving up to philly and the sun comes out. it's beautiful, looks like the skycrapers are climbing up and trying to kiss the sky.



walked over to independence hall, about ten blocks over from our hotel. it was chilly but not too cold and the sun was out and all the people were out on the streets walking, lunching, working, looking about.



we went inside, to the place where our forefathers wrote and signed our constitution... and i can't even tell you how beautiful the feeling is, to know that the most important moment in the history of the world happened at the same place where you are standing, where the most ingenious of people gathered hundreds of years ago to bring about a set of principles and beliefs that would change your, everybody's life, and push human advancement and liberalization further than even before. the hall where they signed the actual thing is huge, the walls high and blue, the soft pale light pooling in from the windows across thirteen wooden tables. mmm.







walking through the liberty bell exhibition was also touching. the bell embodies the american standards and continuous struggle for freedom, for equality. just knowing that the exhibit and the independence hall (plus a guided tour) are free to the public was so enlightening, knowing that history is open and that even the poorest of the poor are allowed to learn--that america's utmost treasures, its princples and its lifelines, are transparent to the world.



we went to the constitution center, which was amazing, and then we cross over the independence mall to the old city. which was sorta empty but kind of lovely, too.








and then we had some chinese red bean cake.

and then we walked up and down philadelphia in search of dinner. we saw indian buffet(no, diarrhea), pizza (pizza in quaker-land? ha!), seafood (schmaltzy), french (expensive and as dull as duck), wandered through some gritty parts of town... until we settled on the first place we saw. yes, well, apparently dinner for us was the usual--middle eastern deliciousness: the place called "sahara". couscous, shwarma, shish kebabs.

sweet, sweet baklawa.



and then, with our stomachs as jam-packed as 5th avenue during a pride parade, we toured down across the street towards the naked chocolate cafe adjacent to our hotel.

aztec... hot... chocolate... cinnammon goodness...




fell asleep at around 9 p.m. or so?
[wow]

the next morning, we turned around the corner and came to city hall. an ornate white "monstrosity" that, in my opinion, was quite fabulous-looking. like a wedding cake. marble and beautiful and subtle, flowing, lush. i liked it.





we climbed up groggily (elevator-rode) to the top of city hall and took some pictures.




and then...
began...
our journey.

an approximately mile-long track from city hall towards the philadelphia museum of art: yes, THE philadelphia museum of art, a severe walk that was routinely punctured with dying animal noises (as mentioned in the beginning of this post) and sickly, pneumoniac chuckles. we were giddy as hell, fighting against the wind, along the way humming the Rocky hymn--GOTTA FLY NOW! oh please, we almost soaredd from the fucking blazing wind--both my palms were clenched into blood-red fists that burned like ice and my face felt like someone fucking slapped it and i was about to die, DIE HEAR ME DIE!

but we made it... in the end.

oh, and also, there was this huge police funeral nearby. immense. the whole philadelphia police force probably showed up.






and no thanks to any well-toned oscar-winning fatso who actually made it to the top of the stairs of the art museum.




[FLYING HIGH NOW]

oh, and yes. we made it too.



and... enter pictures.






a few hours later...

took a bus to reading market terminal.



from there on, the pictures explain it all.



food. food. food.

we've been waiting for this one ever since we arrived on the shores of pennsylvania: the philly cheesteak.




mmmmmhmmm.

pastrami sandwich and a picke.

mmmmhmmm.



returned home via car straight afterward.

and that's where i am at the moment. it's 11:18 p.m. and i'm about to collapse. had a good week, wanted to watch film tonight though... eyes gruesomely pink now, however, so sleep it is.




i'm sorry if some of the photos got jumbled up. they were probly were. jesus, i'm tired. and thirsty. and kind of hungry after writing about all this food.

shout-outs to aleksandra and obama. you're on my thoughts tonight.

label me: america, college, food, happiness, movie, music, night, obama, philadelphia, travel, video