I feel misunderstood

Before I continue my summer recap, I thought it would be nice to document a couple of confusing situations I have been engaged in since I moved to New York two days ago. Here goes.

Bob and I went to an improv show the other night after our plans to go to the Mets Rockies game were demolished by torrential rain. We saw a good show, then saw an amateur improv show where any groups that wanted to could sign up and perform. Don't worry, we didn't sign up. But as we sat down in our seats, a man passed us with the logo below tattooed to his arm:

He was a rockies fan! We had so much in common! Bob and I both yelled "ROCKIES!!" to which he looked back with confusion, noticed our fingers pointing at his tatt, and replied "nah nah nah It's crips. Ya'll crips?"

This was a misunderstanding. I assumed Rockies, but he was a gang member. When I told this story to Jared C., he asked what color the tattoo was. Sadly, the dark blackness of this man's skin inhibited my ability to distinguish between a purple and black tatt (baseball) and red tatt (hood). I felt terrible.

Misunderstanding #2:
We went to Wendy's late last night. I ordered a Dr Pepper and a Junior Bacon Chee, and Jared C. orders a crispy chicken sandwich. Mine takes a while, and while I was waiting Jared and Bob went to sit down. I waited for 5 minutes before she asked who was also waiting for 2 Crispy Chickens. I looked back at a hungry Jared C, and replied "Yah that's my friend, I'll grab it for him." I waited a couple of minutes, got the food, then walked to the table. When I arrived, Jared was already eating a crispy chicken sandwich.

I had taken someone else's Crispy chickens. I figured that person may have forgot ordering them, so if I waited long enough and didn't get caught I'd be two fried chicken slabs richer. I put them on the table next to me, and within 2 minutes the angry woman from the counter came storming towards me with an evil look like I was her baby's daddy and just got custody. (sidenote: I'm not racist. It's just coincidence that she was black, served me fried chicken, and gave me the baby daddy look. Don't hate me) She asked where the chicken was, and I pointed nervously to it on the table next to us, as though I was trying to pass the blame off on the table for being the sandwich thief.

I keep getting misunderstood in this city. Lets hope that changes.

My Courageous Return to the World of Blogging

I thought this day may never come, but it seems it has...the blog is back. I started blogging when I went to Israel because it marked a new chapter in my life, and yesterday marked the next big step; I moved to New York to start my life as a real person. Though I can't exactly plan for it, I foresee absurd situations occurring on a near-daily basis as they have for most of my life, so I think the blog should keep people amused.

Before I start my NY blog, a quick recap of my summer (I'll start with my trip to Israel, and another day I'll expand to the rest of the time I spent in Denver/Vail/Canada/Chicago)

THE ISRAEL TRIP

First: How I solved the Arab-Israeli Crisis
-On my flight from Chicago to Jerusalem, I sat down next to a 30-or-so very "Middle Eastern" looking man.As he spoke Arabic violently into his phone, I came to the assumption that he wasn't going to Jerusalem for Yarmulke shopping. We didn't talk for most of the ride, instead focusing on the Pink Panther Two and He's Just not Into You. Oh well, can't expect any miracles to happen on United, right?

Wrong. About 8 hours into the flight, I sat listening to the airplane radio station when I heard a particularly phenomenal smash hit: Love Story, by Taylor Swift. A true classic. Anyway, I smiled when I heard it, and started nodding my head to the beat. Suddenly, I noticed to my left that my neighbor was also nodding to a beat...the same one! I overheard his headphones rocking out to my girl t-swift, and as he gained the same comprehension over the situation as I had, we broke into laughter and hummed the song silently together so no one could hear us. We ended up talking, and he told me he was just connecting to Amman, to which I replied "wow, never been there, is it nice?" and he spent 15 minutes trying to convince me to go. I don't think it's likely.

So, Moral of the Story: Taylor Swift will save the Middle East. Sounds good to me.

The Rest of the Trip


- Unbelievable. Spent a lot of time with friends from IDC and Jerusalem, going to concerts, hiking, camping at the Kinneret, swimming in the Dead Sea, sightseeing as if I hadn't lived there for 6 months...all purty fun stuff.


- At one point I finally took the oh-so-Jewish trek to the Dome of the Rock. And by oh-so-Jewish I actually mean oh-so-a-rab. Paz and I were the only Jews, but he's blonde, so he was practically Christian (luckily they don't really like them up there either so we were on an even playing field). I even got to Protein Shake the holy site, so I hope Allah doesn't strike me down or something.

- We also went to the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, my first time to the Christian holy site. After a brief tour, we noticed a hole in the ceiling letting in a ray of light in a bizzarly artistic manner. I took a picture there, and I may or may not be imitating Jesus...in the place where he died and was ressurected. Call me an asshole, but I've always been told that mockery is the greatest form of flattery (or something along those lines).

- I guess I should give more attention to the three day campout by the Kinneret (Sea of Gallillea). It was epic-- We spent all day on the beach or waist deep in the water playing frisbee, singing, and eating. It can't be described in words because it was just too absurd and relaxing. BUT I did realize one thing--- some times you don't need to be a good photographer to take a good picture...all you need is a good camera. I borrowed Paz's camera to take a picture at sunset of Butters, and look how it turned out:

Looks like a cool pic, right? I just took a picture. The camera did the work. I wanted to be able to see his facial expression but it didn't work out, making me feel like a disappointment. But maybe that's how a lot of famous pictures come out; maybe this couple ended up making out on the ground, and the photographer was upset for thinking he caught it too early.

The night I left Israel was spent in a bar in Tel Aviv, so my airport experience was hardly memorable-- in the sense that I can't remember much of it due to intoxication. I can't imagine it went well when they asked me about why I was in Israel, who my family was there, and how I speak Hebrew when I can hardly get out words of English. I found myself half passed out in the Dan Hotels red carpet lounge, which I am definitely not a member of, drinking perrier and eating cake. Great trip.

YAY FOR BLOGGING AGAIN