You Say Tomato, I Say Potato

Driving to the mall with my 12 year-old brother yesterday, I mentioned something about artisans. He asked what artisans are.
"Artisans are...they're like--"
"WAIT! I think I know." And holding up his hand for me to stop said, "a well."
"..."
Cue: crickets.
"So was I right?"
"A well???"
"Yeah."
"That wasn't a joke?"
"..."
"Oh, you mean artesian wells?"
This is what happens when kids are too smart. Half the people I told this to didn't even know what artesian water is.

And for the record, Over the Hedge was a really great movie.

"?" Wins Award for Greatest Sign Ever

This morning, I went hiking with my friends Sara and Michal at

which, despite the doubts we had upon seeing the welcoming sign, turned out to be this pretty.

Luckily, we had read all the signs before entering, because shortly after being told to

we saw this

and these

(the blue tail...if you can see on the left).

All in all, it was fun. Thank you for your time. :)

The Little Bugger Likes the Brothers

I found this video of a baby rocking out to Midnight Rider. And not only is this little smusher an adorable dancer with awesome taste in music (we love you Brothers!), but my cousin's daughter Bat-Tzion loves the Allman Brothers as well. I'd suggest a shidduch, but (a) I think the baby in the video's a girl and (b) the two of them need to spread their Brothers-love to the rest of the baby world. All I have to say is this: the only thing better than an adorable baby is an adorable baby dancing to the Allman Brothers and the only thing better than the Allman Brothers is an adorable baby dancing to the Allman Brothers. Must...have...

Will the Sundrops Be Striking? Stay Tuned for Our Exclusive Story!

"Find out if rain will wreck your weekend plans--up next."
"Will you be needing that umbrella tomorrow morning? We'll be right back with the weather."
"Are we done with the cold days for good this season? Weather up next!"

I never realized that radio stations use teasers about the weather in the morning until I started commuting early. I don't really understand why they'd use the weather and not some cool bit of info or newspiece, but then I also don't expect to reclaim my sanity until after my last final. Right...

QOTD: Birthday Boy Edition

Is It Even Necessary to Title This?
"Yeah, but I'm eating chicken and that's more important."
-Ari

Random Thoughts Inspired by Starbucks: Part One

I recently caved into my inability to do work at home and started going to coffee places to do work. The most common place I frequent now is Starbucks and since I saw something rather odd there today, I thought I'd share some of my random thoughts about Starbucks' customers with you. This is part one because with finals coming up, I'm sure there'll be a part two.

I once sat at a Starbucks for hours working on a paper. Since I was sitting at the table nearest the door, I looked up every time someone entered the store. Amazingly, about 80% of the people who came in followed the same pattern. They opened the door, walked inside, dropped an empty Starbucks cup into the garbage near the door, and then went to place their orders. I probably wouldn’t have noticed that this throwing-out-an-old-cup was a trend if I hadn’t been there for hours, but it happens to be that I had a lot of work and was looking for more distractions than Starbucks provided.
I don’t know why so many people did this and still think about it. Perhaps it’s because that Starbucks is located on a major highway and the people who came in while I was there regularly stop in. If you picked up a Caramel Macchiato (I recently learned about this drink), on your way home everyday, would you bring the empty cup inside your house when you got home or just leave it in the cup-holder until returning to Starbucks the next day? Or, perhaps most of the people stopping in were on long journeys along some Starbucks’ route. You can’t, after all, put a cup in an already occupied cup holder. I don't know; it was pretty bizarre.

I always find it funny when people come into Starbucks and pick up a New York Times. If you’re picking it up to read because you want to look intellectual, you might as well just get Glamour or People magazines. I mean, you clearly don't subscribe to it because if you did, you wouldn't need to pick it up for free at a coffee shop at 2 in the afternoon, right? And you are also clearly not aware that you can read it (mostly) for free online while you're bored at work where you don't have to bother learning how to fold those impossibly large and flimsy pages. So there! I know your secret!

And as for today, I was sitting in one of those comfortable chairs doing my work when I looked at the man sitting in the chair opposite me and noticed that his body was stretched out, head back and mouth open. Folks, he was out cold. I know that if I were to fall asleep in Starbucks, I’d want to be woken, but I was not going to pass judgment on this man. When I took my earphones off to make a quick trip to the bathroom, I realized that this sleeping man across from me was snoring softly. That’s right, the man sitting across from me in Starbucks was not only asleep--he was snoring.
After doing some more work, I saw him jump up and answer his phone (which must have vibrated in his pocket or something). He took one phone call, another, and then as he was placing his phone down, started talking to me. Turning my music down, I asked him to repeat what he had said.
“Man, I’m so embarrassed I just fell asleep here. Did you happen to notice if...well...was I snoring?”
“I don’t think so,” I said, “I mean, I didn’t notice anything.”
“Oh good, because that would be so embarrassing.”
“At least you didn’t fall asleep on the train. It’s so embarrassing when people fall asleep and their heads bob up and down.”
“Yeah, that is the worst.”
And the moral of the story is that if you ever see me slumped over a pile of books on a random table at Starbucks...please wake me.

No...You Wake Her

Say, "hi" to cousin Zahava. It's what I did for most of the night yesterday. You see, my cousin wanted to go see her guitar teacher's band play at The Cupping Room Cafe down in the village last night. Only, my cousin, her friend Nate, and I do not live down in the Village. Which means we had to get there first. It usually doesn't take much longer than an hour to get all the way downtown. I use the word "usually" because it implies that "occassionally" this is not the case. And that "occassionally" happened to be last night.
At about the same time that we pulled onto the West Side Highway, a major car crash happened on the West Side Highway at some point between where we were and the next exit. So we sat in the car for about an hour. Then the woman next to us's car wouldn't start when she tried turning the engine back on. Luckily for all of us, there was an entire fraternity taking a West Side Highway roadtrip that night and parked (yes, parked) only a few cars behind us. They, of course, knew what to do and in only 10 minutes were able to figure out that it was the battery and get jump starts to attach to our car and help the lady.
Eventually, a cop walked from the accident up to the exit north of where we all were and started directing cars to back-up and go down the exit ramp. Once enough cars backed-up, though, the remaining cars were able to turn around and go north on the south side of the highway. But of course, since this is a New York tale, it includes the random crazy lady with the heavy accent. Actual conversation playback:
"Excuse me, ma'am!"
"Eh?"
"I think you might need to wake that woman, she seems to be sleeping."
"YOU WAKE HER!"
"Um...she's sleeping, so if you want to be able to go, you'll have to wake her."
"YOU WAKE HER!"
"I think you should wa--"
"YOU WAKE HER!"
I shut my window at that point and we turned the car around. Now, I don't know how many of you have been in a car moving in the wrong direction on a major highway with half the cars backing up and the other half facing the wrong way like you but it is WEIRD.
As for the rest of the night, let me sum it up real quick. The band was supposed to play until 1 and we parked at what we thought was around the corner at 12:55. But, you see, West Broadway and Broadway--not only aren't they extensions of each other, they are confusing. That's all I have to say. And I will end this post with a quote by Zahava, which was, "this night...was nothing short of terrible."

It's Green

By the way, I was using the family computer the other day and noticed that when I opened this site the sidebar was--gasp--green! What's up with that and why does it do that in internet explorer? I can only use Firefox on my laptop because when I was having too many viri (that's fakely plural for virus) issues with it, I got rid of ie to minimize the amount of pop-ups I'd have. It wasn't successful in stopping the pop-ups, but it was successful in the fact that I did actually get rid of some part of ie. At least I know I can't open the program on my laptop. I just wanted to say that I have become aware of the great ugliness that resides on the right side of my page and that I'm thankful to firefox for developing a censor against things that could potentially harm one's eyes. Thank you.

CURLS!

I curled my hair! You see, I was bored today so I decided to curl my hair for Shabbos. I'm not so sure it was worth either the neck burn or the leg burn (don't ask), but it kept me busy!

Shabbat shalom from me and my burns.

I Love Emmylou Harris

I just want to write something for Emmylou Harris, the woman whom I'd marry for her voice if I weren't already betrothed to Gregg Allman for his. You see, yesterday my father told me that he bought two new cds. One of them is Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris. Then my father looked at me and asked if I knew who Emmylou Harris is.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" I said, "I ABSOLUTELY LOVE HER!"
"You're kidding me, right?" My father said.
And I was actually very much not kidding. You see, there are some singers or musicians you hear in a few different places and fall in love with them all over, not realizing at the time that it's the same person. Emmylou Harris? Did you see her in The Last Waltz? I watched her sing "Evangeline" with The Band a million and a half times more than most of the other songs on the dvd. And then one day I discovered Dylan's song "One More Cup of Coffee." I listened to it over and over, trying to grasp the beauty of the woman's vocals on the track. The woman, I later discovered, was Emmylou Harris. And to top it all off, she has a cd for sale at Starbucks (where I've been making too many appearances to get my work done) that I was considering buying. So basically, I just wanted to give her a shout out. :)

This is How I Do School Work

Sometimes the sun gets so strong when it’s setting that if you look straight at it, it hurts your eyes for a moment. But only a moment because then your eyes get used to it and like the way it hurts. Stare at the sun enough and you won’t see anything else. You can look at anything else you want but you won’t see past the greenness of leftover sun. It’s a way to get rid of what you have to do. I recommend it over other forms of neglect because it doesn’t have any medical risks I can think of. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t any, blindness is probably one of them, but I don’t know that so I can’t say. The same way you can stare at something with your sun-bleached eyes and you won’t be able to see it. If you can’t see it, you can’t do it. It must not be there. Stop doing work and stare into the sun. I suggest that you challenge it. Personally, I’d challenge it to a duel to the death. We all know the sun’s too coward to come down here and fight it out anyway. It’s either that or it gets all up in its “responsibility” toward the Earth to take off any time for fun. Silly sun, doesn’t it know that if all you ever do is work you won’t get the work done? Set a number of short-term goals and with each you’ll get closer to your unspoken, unseen goal for the long run. I probably shouldn’t talk, I’m only writing this because I have work to do and don’t want to do it. Or rather, can’t do it. It’s kinda hard to do work when all you see in front of you is a great green blob of leftover sun on your computer screen.

An Ode to the Apostrophe Protection Society

When I read the word "you're" my eyes scan it and my brain translates it to mean "you are." When I read "it's" I think, "it is." Therefore, when I am speaking to friends online and they say things like, "when is you're thing tomorrow?" or "it's round cheeks are part of what makes babies a member of the Adorable Species." or "your so beautiful." it really annoys me. Want to know why? It annoys me because the person-writing-its laziness means that I have to re-read a sentence to finally understand it properly.
For this reason, I am referring all of you--you know who you are--to the Apostrophe Protection Society's website. And while you're busy reviewing the details, I will elope with the chairman and set up a "their, there, they're" awareness group with him.
Ah yes, long after posting this (yes, this is an edit), I was working on something in Microsoft Word. While finishing my sentence about "your youngest brother" who was "sleeping late," I noticed a green squiggly underneath my "your." I right clicked it and, as you can see to the left, what came up was the suggestion that I change my "your" to a "you're." I'm sorry Microsoft Word, I know you're just trying to help and that your intentions are positive, but if you don't mind my saying--what is wrong with you? "Because You're youngest brother?" What could that even mean? Seriously! Sometimes with Microsoft Word, I just don't get it...

With Love, From Me

I have a tendency to overcheck my sitemeter. When I'm bored and have exhausted all the articles on the sites I read, I default to my sitemeter. I guess I could use that same time to do school work, but who's keeping track? Aside from my teachers who have to grade me, that is. Anyway, here's a list of a few things I've noticed:

1. More people check my blog in the 10 o'clock hour than any other time. The runner-up? 9. (This is all in the am.) What I can determine from this is that either people check my blog when they're starting to get bored at work and lunch hour seems hours away or they check my blog after waking up. Interesting? Maybe not, but this is my way of getting to know the people who like to read my blog. So therefore, I will continue.

2. While most of the people who check my site don't stay for more than 5 seconds at a time (mind you, one of those visited the site 85 times in
the past while), a whopping 26.2% stay for over an hour. I gotta say, I am impressed with how much time people will waste when they have more important things to do.

3. You can find my site on the first page of the Google search "dina I love you."

4. 89.01% of you are in the US. 3.30% are in Israel. 2.20% are in Ireland. (Shout out to Adam...the only Irish reader I know. ) :)

5. My blog is the top choice Google gives you in a search for "What are some foods manly eaten in Germany?"

Oh, To Be Young Again

So five seconds ago, I got an idea for a blog post. I finished reading what I was reading and opened blogger. After staring at the page for a minute or two, it occurred to me that I had forgotten just what that idea was. This might not seem like a noteworthy occurrance to many, but in light of the conversation I just had with Nukes a few minutes ago, I am beginning to worry. The conversation went as follows:
"What time is it?"
"5:19."
"Thanks, Nukes."
"Y'know, I just told you a minute ago."
"Oh, did I already ask?"
"Yeah."
I'd go do something instead of writing more, but I can't seem to remember what else I have to do...

It Rained Every Time We Tried

As most of you know, my friends Miryam and Doni got married this past winter. This worked out especially well for me because they moved about four minutes from my house (that's driving--by foot it takes 40-something minutes) and I now have one more friend in my hometown than I previously did. Since Doni is still in school, I usually give him a lift Wednesday nights. And so, it is with great pride and throat clearing that I present you with a transcript of tonight's conversation (I hope he doesn't mind...):
Doni: Oh, that's Sotheby's.
Me: Yeah, we went to an auction in high school once.
Doni: Wow. That's the snobbiest thing I ever heard. 'And for our next field trip, we're going to go kick homeless people.'"

Oh, The Joys of Being Awesome

After putting the last of my six quarters into the one hour meter I parked at, I turned back to my car in order to take out my bag and books. While trying to avoid the trappy holes in the grid above the subway so that my heels wouldn't get stuck (actually, once I was on a date and my heel got stuck in the subway grate and I walked clear out of my shoe!), I realized there was someone talking to me.
"...be parked here for a while?"
I looked at the man standing to my left and asked him to repeat what he had said.
"I was just saying that if you're going to be parked for a while, I have a spot you can take. It doesn't need quarters."
"Wait--you're parked and leaving now?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"And you have a broken meter?"
"Well, no...it's not a meter spot. I'm parked just around the corner, if you want to drive around and take my spot I'll wait for you to come and not let the other cars passing see that I'm going to pull out."
"Wow...thanks! You're really just leaving now?"
"Yeah."
After he told me what color car he had and which side of the street it was parked on and where in relation to the corner it was, I got in my car and drove around the block. Sure enough, he waved me down when he saw me coming around.
Now, I hear a lot that New Yorkers are mean or unfriendly and I really just think they have a bad rap. So lest you think this story is an isolated incident, I will relay what happened to me last Monday.
Driving down the one patch of 69th Street where there are two hour meters, I noticed a man loading a ladder into the back of a truck. Pulling over, I rolled down my window to ask if he was pulling out.
"No, no. In five minutes."
"Okay," I said and told him I was fine waiting.
"Pull around the block once and by then I'll be done. You can have the spot."
"You'll wait for me, right?"
He and his partner laughed and agreed that they would.
I drove around the block because I had been making it hard for cars to get by, but I didn't really think they would keep the spot for me. As I drove slowly back to where their truck had been, I saw them wave to me and move to the car. My new friend got into the driver's seat and the other one came around to my window.
"This meter broke," he said. "That okay?"
My heart, which had been beating rapidly ever since I had given up the sure spot for a chance that they would be saving it for me, stopped its beating momentarily to jump for joy.
"A broken meter? I think I can handle that!"
And so you see the moral of my story is either that New Yorkers are awesome or HaShem loves me...some of the time.

Be our guest, be our guest, put our service to the test

Amazing.

I Don't Do Social in the Morning

I was sitting in traffic on the Palisades for at least three traffic updates when the car behind me pulled into the lane on my left.
"Excuse me?" The guy who was now to my left called.
I turned down my radio to hear him.
"Do you know why we're sitting like this?"
"There was a multi-vehicle car crash," I reported.
"Where?"
"Up there, they said on the radio."
"What's that you're listening to?"
Unsure as to whether he meant what I had on at the time or what I listened to for traffic, I filled him in on the traffic station figuring he'd leave me alone once he had the source himself.
"Oh man, I have an important 9 o'clock meeting; I really hope I make it there on time."
I wished him luck and inched my car ahead while he thanked me, the sweetie, so that he wouldn't talk to me anymore.
Two traffic updates later, I heard a light honk to my right. Same SUV, same driver.
"Your left brake light is out! Just wanted to let you know!"
"Thank you, sir."

She'd Stand so Regally with Royal Graaaace

I thought that if I'd ignore the song stuck in my head it would go away. So all day yesterday, I tried humming other songs. I put the radio on loud enough to distract my head from the song that was plaguing it. I listened to my iPod even while doing school work. But no matter what I did, the minute the music was off, I'd hear it again. I went to sleep singing it to myself. I woke up singing it.
So now, in an attempt to rid my mind of this evil song, I will write it out word for word in hopes that once it has a new home, it will leave me alone.
And so I begin...
I used to think my mother was the Shabbos queen
She'd stand so regally with royal graaaace
And whisper to the King of the universe
--HASHEM--
In her very special waaay
Behiiiiiiiiiiind her covered faaaaaaace!
I know that she's not asking Him for diamonds
My noble mother doesn't ask for goooooooold
She's asking Him for me to study all the Torah's waaaaaays and to let her eyes behoooold
The joooooy as I grow oooold
Oh-oh-when I grow up,
No matter what life brings,
Hashem will give me the strength I need to handle it
And I will walk by the lights
Of a thousand Friday nights
And the teffilos of my mother
Who always
Had her
Candles lit!

The end! Yay! Hopefully, I will now be able to return to normalcy...

There Are Too Many Random Fruit Lanes in the Suburbs

I heard the door bell ring and chose to ignore it. Then it rang again and who ever was doing it started knocking, too. I walked into the dining room and peeked through the window curtains to see who was at the door. If it had been a UPS guy or mailman, I would have gotten it. But standing at the door was a Yeshiva boy with a knapsack on and I wasn't wearing a normal top. I figured he'd go away and after listening to three more knocks, I started walking away from the dining room. Only, then I heard someone fumbling with the combination lock. It's one thing for someone to knock eight times and ring the doorbell ten times, it's a whole different league when they try breaking in.
"Who's there?" I called from inside.
He answered a muffled response.
Opening the door a little, I sticking my head out from the side.
"Is this Rosenberg?" He asked, looking down to read it off a paper (that must've been the paper with the code to get into the house he was trying to get into).
"Um...no. It's not. Do you have their address because I can direct you there if you do?"
"70 Random Fruit Lane? This isn't That Random Fruit Lane?"
"No. It's That Other Random Fruit Lane."
"Oh, really?" He started arguing in his confusion. "I thought it was...this isn't? Really?"
Needless to say, I sent him off in the right direction.

Even "White" Doesn't Do Them Justice

There are few things more dissappointing than seeing your legs haven't really tanned as darkly as you thought they had after taking your sunglasses off.
...But to make up for it, a bunny rabbit did fly across my lawn while I was outside doing school work.