Monday, November 8, 2010

No Sleep 'til Hammersmith... not just Motörheads legendary and masterful Live LP from their Short, Sharp Pain In The Neck tour (where funnily enough, they didn't gig the Hammersmith Odeon venue in London). It also fairly accurately describes how you feel after no sleep at all - like a blacksmith put you on his smoking anvil and slegdehammered you flat as a frying pan. All fun and games and I can't even blame it on insomnia this time. I simply got lost in the technical aspects of the blogoshere and the time ran away between RSS feeds and blocker cookies...until it was 4.30 AM and Quentin had a cough attack of outer-wordly proportions and staggered out of his room, a blueish-reddish tint on his face.  He has some kind of chest infection, poor man. And as if that wasnät enough he managed a backward swan-dive this past Shabbes, landing on the back of his head, and was knocked out cold. When he came about I after 15 seconds or so I had already started CPR....he scared the crap out of me. Dude needs to see a doctor.

Lemmy riffin' it....
Anyhow I gave up any ambitions to sleep, and while Mr Q went back to sleep, I took off for Shul, prayed and said Halel for the new month of Kislev - Chodesh tov peeps! Then a round to my French coffee lady on the plaza but there was nobody to talk to and the mornings are getting chilly in Beer Sheva so I went back to the dear apartment. And so here I am, trying to write something worth your time and focus, while at the same time pondering the Shidduch crisis. No, not the postmodern heep of junk that is frantically being debated among the frumsters in every corner of the Digital Highway (whatever happened to that expression??), but my own personal Shidduch crisis. My lack of female company, that is. Celibacy to be blunt. I guess having been single most of my adult life, you'd get used to it, and you do, no doubt. But sometimes it simply strikes you how incredibly boooooring single life actually is, even more so when you long since lost the taste for partying and club-hopping, if you ever had such a taste. All your friends are married with kids and incapable of talking about anything else than measles, kindergarten methodology and different poop qualities, and should you by any chance get a chance to meet them, they will get this blank facial expression as soon as the discussion doesn't orbit around their beloved offspring, and mid-sentence they will scramble and disappear to tell Lisa not to steal Anna's doll and well......should you venture to go to a disco just for a little company, the girls will look at you as were you a pathetic human being who should playa' within your own age-bracket and.....the'll be partly right. Not that I've been to a disco in this millennium, but still.

Nothin' for old geezers....
So anyway I've got a blind date tomorrow. I'm heading up to Jerusalem to have a coffee with a Swiss lady, and even though I for different reasons don't believe in it at all, I'm looking forward to an opportunity to sharpen my social skills, and she sounded nice on the phone. After that a new acquaintance - Nicole - is picking me up for dinner in Jerusalem with her and her boyfriend, to which I must remember to buy some wine. Then she is going to have a Laughter Yoga Workshop that I'm going to photograph for her website. Mental note to self: REMEMBER TO CHECK BATTERY AND BRING CAMERA! OK, 8 AM, time for Ulpan class, so I'm leaving you with these tips for the day coach!

  • Listen to: Seether (Song, Veruca Salt), Time The Revelator (Song, Gillian Welsh), No Sleep 'Til Hammersmith (Live LP, Motörhead)
  • Read: The Plague (Novel, Albert Camus), Introducing...(Blog, Yours truly)
  • Watch: When Harry met Sally (movie), Love Actually (movie), Achmed The Dead Terrorist (YouTube clip)
  • Salute frase of the day: Chodesh Tov!
  • Do: Take care of yourselves and be nice to each other.
Lateööör, dudes.

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