I Love Winterbreak

And with that, I'm off to Israel.

Wedding Pictures

I just want to say that last night's wedding was beautiful. Despite the technical difficulties (someone might have been a little sick...what ever :)), everyone had a great time and all that.
And, of course, Mir and Doni are officially married. This means that Mir is now a Berger and we're not little kids anymore. Sorta. :)

Mir and Doni:

Me and cousin:The high school group...Chaya, Michal, Sara, and Shayna:
We took a Hunter people picture:
And we took a high school people picture :) :
Tova (I think) took a Steve picture:
The Hunter guys: The Hunter girls (with Aaron's fiancee):
What? We had fun!
And me and the kallah.

And to end this, a quote from the chattan last summer (last meaning '04...the summer he first unofficially met Miryam): "And then I found out a bunch of guys from the class older than me are married. I guess they had nothing better to do."

May we all, of course, be zoche to many more!

Happy 500th!

I was stupidly optimistic when I set my alarm for 10:03 two nights ago. Not only was I up by 8:32 for good, but I woke about five times between then and 5:12. Why, you ask? Because my stomach was tied up in a million tiny and about ten thousand big knots. I think somewhere around 5am it hit me that Miryam and Doni were going to get married and I flipped out. Or maybe it was just my excitement getting tangled up in my tummy. Or it could've been because I dreamt about the wedding and it was an empty hall--just Miryam sitting on a chair in the middle of the dance floor with about 20-something chairs around in a circle and about five or so girls sitting on them and Miryam saying, "I don't know, should we dance?" and all of us looking around for more people.
I was stupidly optimistic again this morning when I broke open a sack of Chanuka gelt for breakfast despite my mother's "don't have that--it'll hurt your stomach. It's too sweet for an empty stomach. I'm telling you, you'll be complaining later."
"Too sweet? Then it's like a bowl of Fruit Loops."
(A) It's not like a bowl of Fruit Loops.
(B) I don't even like white chocolate.
Anyway, my best friend just got married last night and I'll put up some pictures soon, I just wanted to say that this is my 500th post. Which means that I talk a lot because Punks just celebrated its year anniversary and it has yet to hit 500 with many bloggers. I'm just one, and I've only been around since the last day of last February.
And in really, really cool news, I noticed that someone was referred to my site from Israellycool a while back and so I checked it out. Turns out, someone "anonymous" nominated my blog for a JIB Award for the Best Student Life category. I thought that was cool, but I didn't realize how cool it was until yesterday when I noticed that someone was referred to my site from Jpost.com. That's right, they're the other half of the JIB sponsors. We're not going to bet on my winning, but I think it's cool enough to have been nominated. :)
I'm going to pack for Israel now. Yay!

Why I Love Having Brothers

I was standing over the stove making latkes when my brother came into the kitchen.
"Deenab, ey poob mi toob ou."
I looked over at him and noticed that he was holding up his tooth.
"I poob my toof out!"
"Oh boy, is it bleeding?"
Head shake.
"Do you have to rinse your mouth out with salt water? Does it hurt?"
"It hurfs. It wasn't realy to come out."
"So why'd you pull it?"
"I was bored."

He turned 12 six days ago. There is no way I would have done something like that six days after my bat-mitzvah. Sometimes I wonder how girls with no brothers manage when they get married. Best of luck, Sara dear. :)

Deer X-ing...For Real

So there I was driving home tonight, when I noticed a deer x-ing sign. I don't know how many of you are from places north of the city, or places with deer at all, but I have to say--there are some things I just don't get. For those who don't see Deer X-ing signs all the time, here:

Do you see that deer? Is the whole Christmas spirit thing getting to me, or is that thing actually flying? Because I have to say that if deer can fly or leap like that, I really have nothing to worry about. They can easily take a jump-skip over my car. But then, when was the last time you saw a real deer standing on his hind-legs? Yes, another thing: The deer x-ing sign on the Palisades that I passed actually said "Deer X-ing." This sign? They don't label what that deer is supposed to be doing. How is someone who doesn't come to the suburbs often supposed to know that that deer is crossing? Perhaps they'll look at the sign and interpret it to mean "deer dancing," "deer standing," or "deer flying." You never know--that's all I'm saying. Because if you don't know that that deer is "crossing" you really can't tell. I clearly need to go to sleep right now.

And to Think that I Saw Him on Mulberry Street (just not really Mulberry street)

I got off the bus yesterday at 40th and 9th. Earphones plugged in and Stu on, I was ready for the 28 block and seven avenue trek to school. Walking up an undisclosed street in midtown, I was trying to figure out whether to go to Starbucks near where I was to study or go straight to school and drop a few things off and then go to Starbucks to study.
I looked off into the street for a sign, but there was none. I glanced up at the sky for an answer, and nearly knocked someone over. I looked straight ahead of me figuring that even if there was no answer there, I wouldn't bump into anyone when I noticed the person walking directly toward me. I paused Stu and took out my earphones. The lights dimmed but for the spotlight shining on his face. And then he spoke.
"Dorkinsky!?! What're you doing here?"
That's right...it was Randy.
"What the shenanigans?" I said. "How could I bump into you in the middle of nowhere on the same side of the street right in the middle--we're both walking straight down the middle of the sidewalk! And then we...hahahaha...that's so funny." (I have a tendency to speak in fragments.)
"Yeah, but what are you doing here?"
"Walking to school from the bus. Are you on your way to lunch?"
"On my way back."
Sure, people bump into people they know in the city all the time. But everytime I do it, it makes me feel just a tad bit more cool.

Have a Shabbat Shalom everyone! ...And maybe next week I'll go back to short titles for my posts. :)

Sorry, Charlie

I woke up this morning and one of my first thoughts was "sorry, Charlie." Which, of course, got me thinking about "even Steven." I started feeling bad for people with easily rhymable names. This sympathy carried on for a few minutes before I remembered that my name rhymes with Bina, Gina, Rina, Sheena, Xena, etc. Why that was one of my first thoughts, I'm still not sure, but at least my name isn't one of those "is it a guy or a girl" names. Like Randy.

If My Head Pounds One More Time, I'm Going to Go In There to Stop It

Take two nails and place them on the sides of your head. Now, take a hammer ( you might be tempted to use a drill, but a hammer is more to the point) and bang them into your head. Not only will your skull shatter, but you will know how my head feels right now.

I had a headache last week from Monday until Friday. It went away over Shabbos and returned on Sunday. Sunday night and Monday night I took Tylenol PM before going to sleep and the headache dissappeared. Then, I go ahead and have this weird dream last night that causes me to--you guessed it--wake up with a headache.

I know I already posted a dream this week, but this one is bizarre:
I was driving in the city and it was all gray everywhere. The roads were covered in packed snow and it was very slippery. I got out of my car and walked up to these two girls who were playing in the snow right outside their garage (at this point it was still the city in theory, but it was actually a street that I’ve had in my dreams before and they had the last house on the left) and I asked the smaller one, “excuse me, is there a shortcut through the woods? I hear there is. Is it usable?” and she looked at me and didn’t respond as if to say that she doesn’t talk to strangers. I looked up and the taller one said, “sure, come this way.” The two of them lead me to the edge of the property and I saw that you sorta had to jump down to this path because the snow was very high and the path was yellow, and it was still a very gray place, so I asked them, “but is this safe? Is it okay?” and the taller one said, “You should be fine.” (Or something like that.)
I jumped down to the yellow brick path and as I was walking, I was wondering why I was going this way since it was in a woods and I didn’t have a phone with me--perhaps it wasn’t safe. And it wasn’t gray anymore, now it was so colorful it was almost “Technicolor” (if you know what I mean). Instead of things being colored how they should there were patches of yellow and patches of green and patches of colors and there were these big poofy things, I remember--like a plant.
I heard a funny noise to my right and saw a parrot. There were gloves hanging over the branch ahead of me, so I put them on (the thick leather ones they wear to hold hawks kind of gloves) and the parrot flew to my arm and I felt its claws dig through to my arm. As I walked more, it walked around my arm and around my back, hurting me with its little pinpricks.
We got to the edge of the path/woods and we were in my old bungalow colony. Just, there were trucks driving around and the weird thing is that it was like a drawing done as an exercise of perception. There were lines everywhere and the roads kind of came to a triangle head at the lines and the trucks were all flat. But as we stepped into this place, the parrot squawked, “the real world: welcome to inspirations and miracles!”
I said, “There aren’t any miracles anymore. There are no more miracles. And as for inspiration, that’s just something people make up so that they don’t feel as bad that there are no miracles.”The parrot kept squawking incoherently and I started crying while marveling at how the world looked like a flat drawing. And then I woke up with a headache.

QOTD: Wednesday Edition

I Don't Need Class Because I Know the Basics...Like the Days of the Week
"Don't you have class on Tuesday! ...Thursday? What day is it?!?"
-Randy

*+* I spent a lot of time with Randy last Wednesday. I picked him up from Hunter so that he could come down with me to Brookdale to carry some heavy water bottles. He was trying to bully me with that above quote. Didn't really work. :) Anyway, I had to save the quote for a Wednesday or it wouldn't have worked and I forgot to put it up last week.

The Tires Were Talking

First, it was the day of Miryam's wedding. Only, she was getting married in her house. Just, not her real house, her old house on my street where my cousins live now. And it was about 3:15 in the afternoon but she still didn't have her make-up done and we were all hanging out in my backyard, very chilled like. Then she went to her house to greet guests into the hallway because that's what the wedding was going to be like and my mother told me to go to sleep. I went to sleep, even though the wedding was in an hour, because the wedding was set up very much like Shabbos. There was a small night thing and then a big day following that. The next morning I woke up and wondered why I had my hair done the day before because I had slept on it and I should have gotten it done early that morning instead. So then I went next door and Miryam asked why I wasn't there the night before--she was expecting me because I'm her friend. But she didn't really mind.
So then a woman was driving a car and the wheels were chatting with the wheels of the cars going in the opposite direction. The only thing was that her left rear tire was sort of like a mummy and it kept unraveling as she drove until her car just stopped. She got out to see what happened and it was just a naked axle. By the way, it was night time. So then a horse came and someone was holding a lantern and she got on the horse (at this point there is a point of view shift and even though she wasn't me, I was seeing it through her eyes). I don't know how the horse managed to turn its head 90*, but it was facing her/me. And she/I was very scared.
The end.
And the moral of the story is that you should not go to sleep on Tylenol PM.

My Aunt Had This Dream

I called my cousin today to let her know that I plan on making her apartment my base for the duration of my trip in Israel. Then I heard my aunt (who's visiting) in the background...
Tell her that I had a dream that she had a baby.
"My mother wants me to tell you that she had a dream that you had a baby."
And I thought it looked like you, but
"And she thought it looked like me."
No, her. It looked like her.
"Oh, no, it looked like you. She thought it looked like you."
But she thought it looked like me.
"But you thought it looked like her."
At any rate, my aunt had a dream that I had a baby! All I have to say is that the dream was in Eretz Yisrael and on her birthday, so maybe there was some kind of nevuah in it? Ah, just kidding. I just want to have a baby. :)

Also, I just found this courtesy of Chazermaveth's blog. It's really so scrumptious you have to check it out.

How to Lose Weight Without Trying Or How to Lose Weight Without the Help of Willpower

Losing weight isn't an easy task for those who cannot control themselves. I know, because I've tried it. That is why my new diet "How to Lose Weight Without Trying Or How to Lose Weight Without the Help of Willpower" is so necessary. Like, say you have to lose five pounds for your friends' wedding but crave high calorie meals--with my method there's no need to worry, you'll lose weight in no time.

How the Diet Works
Prepare yourself a high calorie meal with something self-destructive in it. For example, if you like smoothies made of coffee, peanut butter, ice cream, milk, and hot cocoa mix, leave the spoon in the blender before blending the ingredients! This way, when your smoothie is ready for consumption, it won't be edible. (Please note that both plastic and metal spoons work fine.)
Follow this method for all foods and you'll be starving in no time.

Have a good day!

I Guess I DO Look Like Biggs a Little

Jason Biggs was finally beat out by Andie MacDowell 6-4 in the competition to see which celebrity I most look like. I did get some surprise celebrities though. Like, for example, there's this seriously dorky picture I have that Randy used to use as the icon for my fan club until I made him change it and anyway, they thought I most resembled Jennifer Connely in that one. As for how I got Mira Sorvino, Demi Moore, Hilary Duff, or Japanese "superstar" Ayumi Hamasaki, I'm clueless.

Nukes was Annette Bening in one of mine.

Sometimes It Pays to Have the Memory of a Goldfish

When I walked through the door Wednesday night, my father was waiting up for me. Probably because it was after 1:30am and the last time he had spoken to me was when I was in the lot searching for the ticket stub I needed to claim my car and couldn't remember my license plate or car ID number for the little "I lost my ticket, but this is my car" card. Even if he had called while I was driving, it wouldn't have mattered since my phone died about the time I was stuck in traffic on the FDR.

"Dina, did you get my message this morning?"
"Message? What message?"
"I sent you a message about what I left you."
"You left me something?" We weren't off to a good start.
"Yes, I left you something in your boots."

I looked down at the boots on my feet and over at my snow boots near the door. Reaching into my snow boots, I found an envelope from my father with a little message about how he noticed I was very frazzled the day before and that I should do something nice for myself. There was money inside.

Remember this? Let's just say that that was the perfect end to a day that started with a phone call from Jon, the guy I was organizing a concert with, waking me to tell me that the sound guy's van wasn't available and we needed a solution quick.

Have a Shabbat Shalom, all.

Pope Says it Better

There are three posts in my saved as draft file in blogger waiting to be completed when I am not focusing all my time on completing papers.

Want to read genius while I'm unavailable?

From Epistle 2. To a Lady by Alexander Pope
Wise Wretch! with Pleasures too refin'd to please,
With too much Spirit to be e'er at ease,
With too much Quickness ever to be taught,
With too much Thinking to have common Thought:
You purchase Pain with all that Joy can give,
And die of nothing but a Rage to live.

Precisely.

My Day

How was my day, you ask?

Oh, it was fine, thanks. :)

Quailman Lives On

Ranking higher than Wikipedia's entry for Doug, I am the first thing to show up on a search for Quailman Theme Song.

(I also rank pretty high for tv theme songs "doo doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo doo".)

Can you say, "goal in life: accomplished?" Now can you say it ten times fast? Just kidding.

I Hate Gulliver and His Travels

I've taken to reading Gulliver's Travels in private. It's not that I'm ashamed of the novel; it's that wherever I take it people pop out of no where to tell me how much they love the book. If I were a Gulliver's Travels fan, I wouldn't mind. But see, I'm not. I hate Gulliver's Travels. Between Gulliver's boringness as a character, the bodily-functions humor, and the meticulous details about insignificant matters, I am going out of my mind.

I have to read Swift's book for my Age of Satire lit. class and most of the class has already agreed that it's a boring and rather arduous read. It's just that the others aren't getting it. While reading in Starbuck's two weeks ago (I'm not that slow a reader, I just dread picking up the book), the guy sitting at the table next to mine (my cousin thought he looked like that dude from Rat Race who pierced his own tongue...I don't remember the movie) looked over and asked what I was reading.
"Gulliver's Travels."
"Really? I love that book!"
"Oh, that's nice. I hate it."
Um...Awwwwwwwwwwwwkward!
Precisely.

It took until about this week for me to realize that everyone loves the children's version! Well, duh! Why I hadn't thought of that earlier, I'm not sure. But from now on, when people say, "oh I just looooooooooooove Gulliver's Travels," I will say, "that's wonderful. But you probably didn't read the real one...and the real one sucks as far as I'm concerned."

QOTD: Weekend Edition

We Do Give 50% Off If You Purchase One After the Holidays
"This society sucks. I want a refund."
-Yedidya

That's So Funny, Because There Are More Jews In Florida than Israel...
"Israel is like Disneyland for Jewish people."
-Nik

It Snowed

I got back into bed after shutting my alarm this morning and turned over thinking that my next alarm would wake me if need be. Little poofs of sky were floating around everywhere right outside my window, blocking my usual view of woods. I smiled to myself and cancelled my other six alarms. I was about to have a snow day.

I really hope there was no class today, but I have a feeling I just missed it...

QOTD: Taking Care of Business Edition

Well, Because You're the New Michele
"He doesn't get anything done! I smoke pot and I get things done!"
-Steve

Chicken in the Bread Pan, Picking Out Dough

Nah, I got nothing for you. I just wanted to say that.

:)

I Learned About it on Infomercials

Just last week, I was having a conversation with Nukes about how I think I might have adult ADD. The actual, "I think I have adult ADD" statement, however, took 20 minutes for me to get out. I can't really remember why, but I do remember this excerpt from the conversation:
"Knock, knock."
"Who's there?"
"MOO!"
"It's 'interrupting cow!!!'" Nukes said after regaining his composure (we were laughing hysterically).
"Oh yeah! I was thinking, 'I know I'm supposed to interrupt him with a moo, but how will he know that I'm a cow? Maybe I should say, 'boo.' Because I forgot that you say two things, I thought it was just the beginning."
Then we did it over the right way.
Coincidentally, one of the comics I frequently read, Life of Lila, had this comic yesterday:

Of course, when Nukes asked why I think I have adult ADD, I let it be known that not only do I not hear a single, bingle thing when I'm focusing on people anyway, but that I never finish anything I start and, well, here's an illustrated version of the same conversation:

Now if only I could figure out how to get Lila's hair...

Bad Day Plays: 794

I was walking along 51st today with my headphones falling out of my ears every few steps from the pull my scarf was having on the wire and thinking about how convenient it would be for iPods to come with bluetooth and little ear buds bluetoothed to them when Dave Matthews wasn't enough. I needed to hear Bad Day by Fuel. Now, don't get me wrong--I wasn't having a bad day. It's just that I got one of those cravings.

Remember that song and its genius lyrics? Had a bad day again, said I would not understand. Left a note that said, "I'm sorry--I had a bad day again." She spilled her coffee, broke a shoelace. Schmeared the lipstick on her face. Slammed the door and said, "I'm sorry, I had a bad day again." Hehe.

I downloaded the song as soon as I got home (well, after dinner because eating is the most important activity of my day) and have not stopped listening to it since. I am listening while I write this and probably will be listening to it while you read this.

The odd thing is that my mood actually swung right into "bad dayish" around 9:00 or so tonight. Could it have been the song? Perhaps. I bet I have some association with it that I'm not realizing. And for those who don't appreciate the opening sentence for this post--I swear there's nothing wrong, I blame the same old song. You wouldn't understand.

QOTD: Grown-Up Edition

Diamond Miner with 12 Dalmations?*
"Dina, I can't wait to see what job you have when you get older."
-Sara

*That was my job ambition when I was younger.

Mir's Shower

Last night we made a shower for Miryam and becauser I haven't had any "picture posts" in a while, I thought I'd grace all of you with our beauty and the beauty of our gifts.
The beauty of our gifts: Chaya, Michal, and I wanted to relive high school for Miryam. (If you weren't in MHSG with us, you won't get it...sorry.)
Me and the Kallah and the hat I made her.

The end.

When I Hear the Allman Brothers, Then I Know It'll Be a Good Day

Something felt oddly out of place this Friday as I drove across the bridge. I thought that perhaps it was my music, and started rifling through my tapes (yes, I drive a '97) to find a new one. The Allman Brothers--Second Set sat there in my hand looking at me and saying, "you know you want it, you know you need it, you know you loooooove it too much to resist!"

Listening to my Allman Brothers tape is not that simple, though. I found it in the $1 bin at the local library already used and almost dead. I've listened to it so many times since that it's past its last leg--it's a goner. But as I drove the car off the bridge and onto the Palisades, I rationalized that a dying tape is worth the same as a dead tape if never used and I might as well sqeal the tape to its death now than wait for some other day to do the same thing.

The tape died somewhere around exit 9w and I turned the radio on after a brief mourning period. Weeeeeeeeeeeeell, my Momma died and left me. My Poppa died and left me. I ain't good looking baby, but I'm somewhat sweet and kind. I'm goin' to the country, baby do you wanna go? And with that, I was happy.

Don't Smile at Me That Way

Waiting for the six train at Grand Central, I leaned over to see if it was on its way. It wasn't. I turned around to look at the people who were coming down the stairs. No one interesting. I started turning back to face the train's expected direction when I noticed a man looking at me. Six foot something good-looking man looking at me and smiling. I smiled a little back and turned my focus on the train that wasn't there.

I got bored. Thinking that perhaps checking out the people coming down the stairs would provide sufficient entertainment, I shifted my position to see the stairs. No need to look for entertainment there, though, because right next to me was Smiling Man. Smiling at me in this bizarre smiling way. His smile wasn't the kind that happens when you see something that makes you happy, it was the smile that you have after waiting 20 minutes for someone to take your picture--forced, stretched too wide, and trying to please. I smiled a little (as proper etiquette would demand of me) and looked away.

The force of his smile was too much for me to ignore and I felt the magnetic pull of his freakish smile pulling my attention back towards him. I looked at him. He shoved a smile at me and moved his head a bit so that he looked more like a little child looking for love than a grown man looking at a stranger.

I was thankful that when the train came we got on separate cars because I was beginning to feel a little weirded out.

The train shuffled its way out of Grand Central and into the dark tunnels of underground New York with me standing over the seats and hanging onto an overhead bar. There was a little boy playing with his bottle and its cover in the small space he had on the bench between his tiny shoes and father's thigh. There was a woman speaking so loudly to the man right next to her that you would think they were on opposite sides of the train...and deaf. There was a woman applying lipstick with a brush. And there was a man in the other car smiling a really freakish smile and staring straight into the car I was in and at me. Of course, at that point, I couldn't hold back my laughter.

Anyway, after I got off the train, I was walking to school and I passed this little old woman with shockingly pink lipstick and the largest, most forced-looking smile I had ever seen. And with that I conclude my theory that the city of Manhattan has been taken over by zombies one smiling freak at a time.