The land of equal opportunity.
December 9th, 2009 by elie
What’s wrong with this picture?
Hint: It’s an AEPi house at the University of Pennsylvania in December.
Archive for the 'new york' Category
Only in America…
December 2nd, 2009 by elie
The land of opportunity, where even a Menorah can join in on secular American holiday cheer.
Travel (in snippets).
October 14th, 2009 by elie
Our first-ever family vacation is over. Didn’t have much time to sleep or think over the last 2.5 weeks but I did have a few seconds to jot down a few ponderings in 140 characters or less…
To sum up, from finish to start, my first vacation with Koala:
for the love of all things sacred, all I want is SLEEP. Oct 13
he loves his carrots! maybe he’ll turn orange like his momma did at his age. Oct 13
back in the IL. catching up on all fronts. as tired as a mother of a newborn; yes, I’m aware of how tired that is. Oct 13
can’t believe what I’m doing to the grandparent-grandbaby continuum tomorrow. Oct 12
you get everything under control… and then the teething begins. time to join a mommy survival group. Oct 9
never thought leaving family members behind would reach this level of difficulty… but it does when you don’t know if you’ll ever see them again. Oct 9
if only we could buy time… I even have some American money. Oct 9
the family event of the century: survival edition. check. Oct 5
aaaand… we’re on solids. Oct 4
it occurred to me that maybe tickling a baby so he laughs that hard for 3 straight minutes is child abuse since he can’t use a safe word. Oct 2
when in the States, do as the Americans do… baby is eating a lot more on our travels. Oct 1
New York family visit ‘09. I can cut the nachas with a knife. Sept 30
Erev Yom Kippur. Gonna do my best. Rock the 5770. Sept 27
flight! baby! vacation! acamoli! see you on the flip side. Sept 24
Who drives a shoe?
October 9th, 2009 by elie
A guy driving a high heel on 14th and 7th. And why not?
Although, part of me feels like I’d have been less surprised seeing this in Tel Aviv.
I saw this, um, mode of transportation and thought of a friend of mine who actually gets around with a set of these on her feet. Minus the exhaust.
Homies away from home.
October 1st, 2009 by elie
How do you say ‘Jersey Gardens’ in Hebrew?
‘!שווה’
Like doing army service or eating Bamba at five months old, in carrying Israeli citizenship I am eligible to enjoy a popular Israeli pastime: shopping in New York.
Or is that New Jersey? We spent today stocking up on good-quality crap at a Garden State outlet mall, and my compatriots were everywhere. Cooing at what good deals there are at H&M. Shrieking in the fitting rooms at the Gap. Selling Dead Sea products in the kiosks.
Vacation from Israel? Just not possible.
My late 20s teenage pregnancy.
September 30th, 2009 by elie
The story of my recent ‘teenage’ pregnancy has come full circle this New York trip.
Back in August 2008, when I was coming to New York solo for a few weeks, I knew there was a chance I’d be pregnant so I was prepared to test upon arrival. Dressed in jeans and a raggy hoody, I went with my mom to the local CVS (or at least, one of them - I love my hometown) and walked the aisles in search of pregnancy tests.
Tangent: I know it’s wise to test more than once with the stick testers, since there could be false results, but in America, they come in packs of five or six! Are we that dumb as a nation?
I grabbed a box and we walked up to the register to pay. The cashier was a stiff man in his 50s who eyed me as he rang up the product. My mom handed over some cash since I didn’t have the right bills and as he passed along the receipt, he inquired, ‘Do you know how to use this?’ He asked it as if he thought I was 15 years old.
Then I realized: He thinks I’m 15 years old.
It all made sense. The raggy clothes. I hadn’t put on my wedding ring that day. My mom came with me. She gave me money. I look like I’m 16 on a good day.
I got a kick out of it for the duration of my pregnancy; I visited the States one more time during the 9 months and continued to chuckle to myself when I found people eyeing my teenage pregnancy.
Yesterday I was at the mall getting a desperately-needed haircut at one of those $12 haircut factories and the Italian immigrant woman cutting my hair was 7 months pregnant. We chatted; I told her about my 5 month old son.
After ten minutes she finally worked up the courage to ask me if I’m married. I smiled. She told me I look really young. I told her my age. “You could be 17!”
I could be. I’m not. I’m in my late 20s, happily married, well employed, caring for my first baby. Thank the lord. Seriously.
And, no, the haircut doesn’t make me look any older.
Drama of a dual citizen.
January 15th, 2009 by elie
A key element of being a dual citizen is the dual drama.
I always get homesick with these bouts of New York City drama:
I prefer NYC drama to the Israel brand these days…
Report: Israel, Hamas agree on 2-week truce
Israel says killed Hamas interior minister
False alarm sounds in Jerusalem
Glad to hear the US Airways passengers and crew are safe. Looking forward to hearing from the pilot.
Hoping for the safety of Israeli and Palestinian citizens.
Hoping for it all to end.
Bigger.
December 15th, 2008 by elie
I just returned from a week in the States. Flew out for work, but I wasn’t going to let an opportunity like that go by without doing some shopping. What kind of Israeli would I be? What kind of woman would I be? And most importantly, what kind of pregnant Israeli woman - who doesn’t fit into any of her pants - would I be?
Here’s a little-known fact about me: For the last month I’ve been literally wearing my jeans open, held together with a rubber band, with long shirts covering the zipper. I knew I’d be going to the States for work and the maternity clothes selection here sucks; at least for jeans. For the rest I can wing it with over-sized or hippie fashions.
On my way to buying bigger pants for my bigger belly, I noticed a lot of other bigger things I’d never see here in Israel… yet:
Bigger remote control cars, courtesy of Costco, the bigger store.
Bigger battery-operated kids’ ride-on cars jeeps, also courtesy of Costco (Yes, they make them in 4×4 jeeps now!? What happened to the plastic tricycles I rode?).
Bigger remote controls, found at my mom’s house. Maybe the patent purpose was for the legally blind, but I did see them sold at household stores as a gimmick.
Well, I got my bigger pants in the end. And in the spirit of bigness, my belly ‘popped’ while I was staying in New York. Which lead me to wonder if it was really my pregnancy or the peer pressure.
Welcome to eretz.
September 10th, 2008 by elie
Monday, the day I left New York, I met a friend in the city to hang for a bit; he just moved to New York from Tel Aviv so his perspective is still fresh.
The conversation came to the usual point, of how impersonal New York is and how in-your-face Israel is. I forget that every time I get to New York. It’s always a culture shock for me.
The same goes for coming home. I forget the in-your-face that is my culture here.
And that culture never fails to remind me as soon as I land. As soon as I start putting my hand through the border control I.D. scan and some middle age Israeli guy comes from behind me and starts telling me what to do, even as my receipt prints out. And then wishes me well, saying in broken English, “Welcome to eretz.”
Frappuccino desperation.
September 3rd, 2008 by elie
When I was back in New York in May, I perchance walked into a Starbucks with some friends and noticed a new drink on their menu: this mint chocolate iced frappuccino thing. I’m all about trying new ice blend chocolate coffee things, so I did.
…And I’ve been dreaming about it ever since. Actually, salivating. I’d been wanting it since I got to New York. Since I knew I was coming to New York. But for the first two weeks of my trip, I was building up the craving… Holding out and waiting to reward myself for something.
I finally broke down today and went to the Starbucks down the block from my New York office, and I wait on line; it’s taking forever before I realized I’m on the wrong line. Then I scan the menu for the name of the drink so I can order it when it is finally my turn, but I don’t see it advertised anywhere and I start freaking out.
So I left in a huff and walked all the way… down the block, to the second Starbucks that bookends my office. For no logical reason, really, since they are all franchises. But it felt right.
I wait impatiently on line, close to breaking down, and get to the girl at the counter. She asks what I want but I cut her off and I’m like, “Do you still have that mint chocolate iced frappuccino thing?”
And I guess I must have looked pretty desperate… I kinda dumped my hopeful order there on the counter next to the register and the fancy granola cookies.
She smiled like a caffeinated angel and said, “Yes, we do! What size?”
And I was like, letting out a sigh of relief. A real physical one. You could see the sigh of relief, like in a cartoon.
It was so gross.
But the drink was damn good and exactly what I was looking for. There’s nothing like pleasing a long distant craving.