Summer in the city

A few days ago Nir and I were talking about what we’d do if we had a summer vacation. Wouldn’t that bbe cool? Two months? And imagine that you had all the grownup freedoms to go with it, too? A car, some money? I told him immediately that what I would do first of all was to write in my diary every single day.
I wonder why it takes such a special atmosphere and mood for me to write. I need to be all alone, door closed, a lot of free time. And when I get there I usually forget all of the cool things I wanted to write about… or if there are troubling things, I feel so peaceful that I don’t want to bring them up. Sometimes I forget that you don’t really know that much about my life… that all the entris I composed in my mind never actually got out.
But in any case – If I had summer vacation, I would write in my diary every day. I would set a 3-4 day a week yoga class with Giraffe. I love yoga but I hate how much time it takes up, without actually being a sport. I guess I would also like to take walks in the park. I’d definitely want to try to use the time to write the beginning of a novel or at least a short story. That, an read a lot. And I could get addicted to some TV series or try to see 2-3 movies every week. In the evening I would hang out with friends, maybe try to make it a kind of routine hang-out so you don’t have to work too much on making conversation (which is difficult when you don’t really do anything all day). SO maybe we could play cards one night, cook one night, and just hang out another night? In the weekends maybe we could make up volunteer projects liking painting houses in bad neighborhoods or taking old people on trips up north. Note that this all takes place in the summer, so long hikes are out  of the question.
This sounds like the fun life to me but would I get really tired and bored of it? It’s very different from what I do now… It has much more soaking up of things and just passing time, and much less production and creation. It has much more emphasis on the body, with the walks and yoga and good cooking… right now I just don’t pay any attention to my body at all. There are times when I feel I’m just carrying it around.

But the reason I really can’t live my life like this right now, is stress. I’m always so stressed about what I have to do at work, and while I get out ridiculously early compared to my friends (17:20, unless I have a late meeting), I’m always trying to spend time at home on additional projects and on thinking what can I do better at work. Also, I’m always in a rush to meet my friends between 18:00 and 20:00, so when Nir comes home I can be with him (most nights). Because he really doesn’t like hanging out with my friends that much – which is a shame. I love hanging out with his friends, and we always do cool things.

That said, we had a very “summer vacationish” few days. On Thursday we went to this Arab-Israeli pub in
Jaffa
. A weird experience.
Jaffa
is a place I’ve been to many times, but usually only to the touristy areas. This place was in a residential neighborhood, full of falling-apart houses that poor people live in, and right near them, big villas with view of the sea and a long tall wall around them. The fancy cars were padlocked to the floor. The non-fancy cars screeched around us as if they didn’t care if all of us died. When we reached the place, one of Nir’s friends came up to us and said “You don’t know what a leftist cave we’ve come to. Those red boxes? They’re collection boxes for Tali Fahima (who is a Israeli woman who’s boyfriend is a Palestinian mega-terrorist. She’s in jail, charged with helping him. No one knows if she did it or not, but most Israelis hate her anyway, for sleeping with the enemy). So anyway, we thought we were just going to hang out and listen to arab music, found ourselves in the middle of a political rally. Never mind – the Arab beer they’d brought from across the border tasted just like Israely beer and cost half. I don’t know where the money went, though.
I got a bit drunk and danced to the Arab-Salsa-whatever music. There were about 10 Arabs there, alongside of maybe 50 apologetic Jews. People were dancing in the street and it was really hot – very ”summer in the city” feeling. Then we took a walk down the beach and it was beautiful. But Nir had to get to work early on Friday so we couldn’t hang out much more when his friends – all unemployed, surprisingly – went to hang out on a pub near the beach. But maybe that’s what made it cooler for us – the rarity of it, the fact that it’s a break from work or even thinking of work.
Yesterday was cool, too. It started kind of lamely on the beach. Nir said “the beach” and “discos” as things he would do on his summer vacation. So we decided to take a weekend in Haifa, with my parents in
Haifa
and their beautiful house (with Jacuzzi!) vacant. The plan was for me to pick him up from work, and for us to head straight to the
Haifa
beach, which on Friday afternoon is known to hold a shtiload of people creating a very cool atmosphere. Anyway, I don’t know where all of the people are. If Haifans have found a new Friday hangout, no one told me. The beach was just full enough not to feel empty and clean, yet not full enough to feel really happy. And there were jelly fish in the water. I immediately elt their sting on the places where I’d shaved my legs.
Okay, I have this really big confession. I hate the sea, in the sense of going into the water. I love walking near it, I love sitting and watching it, I love smelling it. I love the idea of  bathing in it – but nopt the practicality of it. I hate the hair removal process needed in order to get into a bathing suit. I hate the way a bathing suit sticks to my body. I hate the sticky feeling of suntan lotion. I hate the way the salt in the water sticks to my body. I hat laying in the sun after I’ve been in the water, with all of the sand sticking to me. I feel like a schnitzel! First you dip it into something to make it stick (the suntan lotion and salt) then you dip it in the coating (sand) and then you cook it (sun). And then you season it with tar and Jelly fish fluid.
Once or twice a year. Other than that –

I’ll take a lake.

So the beach was kind of lame and even Nir thought so. He kind of felt bad about taking me, but I told him I have to verify at least once a year that the heavenly feeling that people associate with the sea is really not for me. So we went to sleep and at 1:00 we woke up and went to a disco, which is also something I do once a year. But it’s amazing what a good afternoon sleep and a cup of Red Bull can do to you. I managed to dance all night and when we left I didn’t even feel tat it’s 5 AM! Usually I’m a mess by 3. Nir was happy to see that it is possible (thought rare), to have nightlife with me. When we left we felt young and vibrant. The sun was coming up and we watched it from the mountain.. though there was a bit too much fog to see anything, but we felt cool just being there. And we were even so energetic that we went to a 7-11 type place and bought food for breakfast. Now (9:00 am) he’s asleep and my fucked up clock has me awake again… but at least I can write peacefully!

I’m glad I wrote a happy entry. I’ve had a bit of a 29-year-old crisis. I feel like many options are closing down on me and that things I do are no longer reversible – of course it has to do with the job decision thing but it goes beyond that. It’s all about life and mortality. Giraffe has it too. For her it’s had the opposite effect – instead of trying harder to build a career and a home, she’s quit her job, bought a ticket to and spits into the face of anything permanent that comes her way. She keeps going “I’m doing exactly what I want, I don’t conform, I’m a rebel, my family doesn’t recognize me, I’m such a free spirit”. If you knew her you’d find it as funny as I do… this is a teenage rebellion come very very late. Except that she doesn’t seem t realize that her long term goals are as much “what she really wants” as her short term ones. And she’s condescending about it! She keeps saying “just do what you want, everything will be okay…” in this sweet idiotic tone of voice. I’m truly happy she’s happy but I hate people who preach, even if they preach that you should do what you want.

Well, I was going to end this entry before I realized I forgot to mention the
London
bombings… I know no one says I have to mention them, but I just read a book called “The Rotter’s club” which included a story about a bombing in a Birmingham pub, by the IRA… and it’s told in a way that, well, it spooked me out for days. Theminute I finished reading that part I was sorry I’d ever layed eyes on that book. And it’s not that it’s gory or ugly… I’ts just so, so sad. I can say that Jonathan Coe really made it clear what it’s like when a life is lost to the world. I don’t think anyone can read that story and want to bomb something. I know that’s naïve but I do feel that. And when I heard about the bombing in
London
, 50 people killed, I though – 50 people like in that story… and it’ just – so hard to think about that. Sometimes it’s better not to think, if you don’t really have anything to do.