The Y.M.C.A.

First of all, fuck the Lakers. Way to disappoint me. I don’t even like basketball, but this is an embarrassment for my hometown.

You know what I miss most? My car. Or rather, the car I shared with my brothers. The bass system in that thing was incredible. Dear Readers, did you know that I used to play bass guitar? I love that you can feel bass. I love that it’s the only part of the music that deaf people can enjoy. Anyway, I miss my car because the only music playing device I have with me is my computer, and its bass is weak. Something must be done about this.

So Crazy French Girl—the one I was friends with until she slashed the screen of “The Americans’” door—came back. For a day. And then got kicked out again for refusing to work again. They almost called the police. It was pretty awesome.
But her roommate, The Frog, has also left. But she left behind a shit ton of chocolate in her room. Well, my roommate and I decided that since I still had the key to that room, we would have a little fun. So we went to her room and ate all of her chocolate. Oh man, it was awesome.

Anyway, I was thinking a lot today about how people grow up with these notions or rules or traditions or whatever that they don’t question. You know? My favorite personal example is that, in my family, when you do a u-turn in the car, the driver is required to sing the Batman theme, and passengers may assist. This is something I do even when I’m alone in the car, and I’m sure the other four members of my family do the same. My favorite example of someone else’s family was my technical theater teacher in high school. I was designing lights for a show and during the run I came backstage after the show to chat with her. She started complaining that the actors kept drinking all the juice that was a prop and that she kept having to buy more. “They keep pouring themselves a full glass onstage!” she cried. “And in real life, NO ONE drinks a full glass of juice!” She said it as if it were so obvious, like, “Who on Earth drinks a full glass of juice????” (Well, me for one….)

I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately because, you know, I’ve been coming into contact a lot with foreign people. Rather than talk about American vs. Foreign, I just want to illustrate some weird notions/rules that I have realized exist in my family that I hadn’t really realized were not common to all humanity:
1) Breakfast is NOT optional.
2) You pee before you leave the house. This is not a command, this is not a request, it is simply something you just instinctively do if you are born into my family.
3) Oranges and orange juice can cure everything except stomach aches. Stomach aches are cured by eating saltines and lying down on your stomach. Taking medicine is not encouraged.
4) If you are sick enough to take off from school/work in the morning, you are too sick to go out in the evening. (Someone needs to teach some of the ulpanists here this concept….)
5) The remote control was “the clicker,” a fart was a “fupse,” “The Boat” was our car, Fiesta Night was once a week, people named Scott were “low-level weenies,” and a hot dog roll was the greatest food anyone could ever hope to eat (hotdog and Kraft American cheese rolled up in a tortilla and cooked in the microwave…holy crap, that’s good)
6) One should not have more kids than one can reasonably fit in a mini-van. The ridiculousness of the size of another family can be expressed in what kind of car they have to drive to transport everyone. (“That family must have to drive converted bus!”)
7) All U-Turns must be accompanied by the Batman theme. Anytime someone in the car announces they must pee someone else must sing “PRINCE ALIIIIII!!!!” Anytime an orthodox Jew is spotted from the car, someone must sing “Tradition!” Anytime someone drives over a speed bump or a dip, no matter what the speed was and no matter how comfortable/uncomfortable it was for the passengers, all passengers must cry out in protest, “WATCH IT, WILL YA???”
8) While purchasing furniture at IKEA is perfectly acceptable (at least for a young person starting out), purchasing a bunk bed at IKEA is NOT ACCEPTABLE.
9) Every Sunday night the family must assemble to watch TV—always Fox.


I don’t know.

I’ve also been thinking a lot lately about “Calvin and Hobbes.” Whenever Calvin would complain on camping trips and demand to know why they all had to go camping when it was always miserable for the entire family, the dad would always respond, “Because it builds character.” Whenever shit goes wrong on this kibbutz, I always tell myself now, “Well, at least it builds character.” Maybe when I have children I’ll have them do the same thing—I’ll have them go somewhere where they get yelled at in a foreign language and they have to fold towels all day or iron tablecloths all day. It’s like the same reason parents sometimes send their kids to the same schools that they went to, even if they were miserable there. Because it builds character. (What happens if you don’t want to build your character?)

Today actually wasn’t that bad. I had to work in Cold Bitch’s domain all day, but she’s actually turning out to be a very nice person. I think I mentioned the other day that she bought me ice cream, and now she’s the only woman in the laundry department that remembers my name, and she’s constantly asking me questions about myself. Sometimes the radio news goes too fast, so she translates it for me into easy Hebrew. Okay people, I’ll concede that maybe this “bitch” actually turned out to be just a sabra—a couple of you suggested at the beginning of this kibbutz saga that’s what her “problem” was. I am NOT willing to concede, however, that the bitchiness of most of the people on this kibbutz is actually just Sabra-ness…..because a large percentage of the people on this kibbutz (and an even larger percent of the people who are causing problems for me) are not, in fact, Sabras. I will say, however, that finding out that this “bitch” is actually a nice person is INCREDIBLY encouraging for me. If a total bitch, if given time, can turn out to be a nice person, then maybe the whole moving to Israel thing, if given time, can turn out to be pleasant and good.