Written from Village Grounds. This coffee shop is actually across the street from us and it's our first time here! I can't imagine why. We should have immediately crossed over here when confronted with that offensive at the coffeehouse across the street - Fertile Grounds. Anyway, coffee is excellent and it is extremely comfortable to sit here. The only part I detest is having to ask for the key to go to the bathroom and drinking coffee while wanting to do some work, you really can't escape it.
This girl I know has a strong propensity to be envious. She is well accustomed to having this acidic feeling expanding in the pit of her stomach when confronted with an accomplishment of another. It matters not if that achievement is in a field which she should no longer have any expectation, chance or particular desire to succeed in, like for example Volleyball or Quantum Physics. Always she would green eye the team’s captain, who is her age, or the young Professor, trying to pacify herself by realizing that the achievement is not all that venerable, because, for example, that other girl was born to a pair of athletes or because the young intellectual is not tenured in an important university and because, even given the opportunity, she would never wish to spend hours in a lab or looking at equations, or spend hours in the mindless pastime of running around in laps and jumping up and down. In fact, had she had any urge to, of course she would have been able to do extremely well in any of those fields, It’s just that she didn’t want to. That’s right. And in fact, she knows from several trusted sources that the two are borderline buffoons (yes! The physics prodigy too!) And that they really wanted to get accepted to another program but couldn’t. Of course, she could have easily gotten in to that program, had she wanted to, had she had the lineage that would enable it. There’s no question about that.
I never said it was her most beautiful of traits, but at least she is very good at it. Not like other people.
I’d just like to add that I am just sick from the fact that Yael is not going to vote and because of me (!) There go 3 people that were within my circle of influence whose (smart) opinions are not going to be heard. This is awful! The dark forces are going to gain the upper hand and simply because we are here engaging in our own obtuse intellectuality. That is shameful! I was thinking I should sell my furniture just so that the three of us will go to Israel just for fulfilling this task. I’m just not sure Yael will be willing to take a (civic) vacation from her vacation. I’ll ask.
• Written from Jupiter. Stuff I have to do instead of writing posts: read a hundred pages for tomorrow morning at 8:45…, concentrate on Y’s impossible user case questions which I hardly understand at all, work on both my thesis papers, answer emails from my dearly beloved, obsess about emails which I have sent to my dearly beloved that were left unanswered, figure out where we are going to work tomorrow (we are thinking Marine county, but where? The weather is going to be fantastic)
The events that have come to pass have rendered me moot. Our BLOG has become much too popular in the last few days. I am thinking that those are people that are interested in Y’s project, and have therefore lost possession of the feeling that used to accompany my posting, which was the feeling of privacy. Yes I was aware that the people that are closest to me were always keeping with me, even when I was blabbering my head off, yet that was just like writing for my own sake – I’ve never been one to keep things to her own person – or rather, my person always included those that I truly love.
Problem is that I am not certain that (A) VCs and angels are all that interested in the fact that I feel tiny (see my previous post), or that (B) I want to tell VCs and angels that I feel tiny and inconsequential. Damn right I am consequential! In fact, I am Prof. consequential to you!
Anyhow, I have many things to tell. I started writing a post of how proud I was of Y, of how it is possible that was as lucky as all that. This was following Friday’s meeting. I wanted to write about stuff that bothered me, about tiny successes (yes! Today I managed to ask a stupid question in class. This is a real achievement. I can either shut up (99.99999999999999% of the time) or utter a comment which is worthy of a Nobel Prize (the rest of the time – i.e. negligible), and thus, stupid question is a very important step for me). Also, I’ve managed to meet a guy Jesse wanted me to meet, without making that big a deal out of it. What’s more, I hardly ever think of the Israeli professor that ditched me on Friday and is now failing to answer my emails. Nor am I fussing about the people who are not answering my highly personal email to them. In short, I think I might be healing from my neuroticism, or damn nearly.
So, I am going to stop right now. Got to do other things and this was just intended to start me off again.
• Boalt hall’s hall – in front of room 110 in the south addition. I’m there simply because I am too early as usual to my class that starts at 3:20 and the previous class is still going on.
I feel tiny and inconsequential today. And although it is the truth, it is not a pleasant feeling. A person needs an illusion of grandeur in order to subsist. This is my insubstantial opinion.
This understanding could produce great things – this sense of proportion could be highly advantageous. The recognition that no one cares about what I do or what I say or what I think, and that nobody notices or clears mind space in order to remember anything that I do, is a realization that can be empowering; proving that essentially I can do what I like without scrutiny.
It is incredibly idiotic that I inspect my own behavior in order to understand things about myself. For example, I deduce from the fact that I do not act in a way that is not self aware that I don’t really believe that people don’t think about me at all. In other words, I believe that I myself believe that I do possess some public importance.
Well, I quit writing it in the middle and hence this post belongs to yesterday’s mood. I’m better now and so I can’t continue with the writing of this post without digressing into fiction. The miserable episode is over now luckily - I'm done with the sad spell. Guess you can't avoid those even when things are going spectacularly well. (Note that today we found out that Moise was violated and all our car music was stolen, the one we carried with the sweat of our brow from the middle east and that I fell off my bike today at school in the most embarrassing of circumstances. Still, today I'm happy. Go figure... )
• Written from Nabolom Bakery – in between classes.
Each time I am struck by the role of god in American politics. During the inauguration there were three different speakers, the new president, Senator Diane Feinstein and God, or rather Rev. Rick Warren. Of course President Obama nodded to non-believers in his speech, but after numerous nods to Jesus and religion and the concluding “God bless America”, the secular nod was reduced into a neck tick.
I must say that I find it verging on the barbarian. How is it that in this day and age, after so many technological revolutions and the advent of science, the president of the US is still “anointed” in God’s oil? I don’t accept that this act of faith should be viewed as a purely political move – a way to appeal to the hordes of god-abiding citizens. Obama is just too consistent doing it for me to believe that it is a mere ploy. And of course, this guy is so much America’s dearest (and the world’s) that he could have fessed up to anything right now, even, god forbid, to being enlightened. I do think that a leader should lead. I don’t believe in neutrality not when it comes to the comportment of the leader. Of course his policy shouldn’t be affected, to the level possible, by his own views and opinions. Also, he should be tolerant of every mode of life – and naturally, a president’s tolerance is immediately translated to a supportive policy. But, isn’t it the leader’s role to lead the people into the light? I think it is. At the very least the quiet message of highlighting choice and not providence could have been transferred, instead of having the entire world view all Americans, including the president elect bow their heads before the spirit of God.
written from L's Cafe' in San Francisco. Fantastic Tuna Sandwich just like one I used to adore those beautiful times in Hard Rock Cafe' on Dizengoff st., eating away the money intended for our musical education (Yael). This Sandwich, like the token of the past sandwich has no onion...
They are opening a Philz Coffee in Berkeley! At the corner of Cedar and Shattuck! Life keeps getting better and better - this is a mere symbol for this fact. Yesterday was my first time at Philz's - it was right before the Berlin and Beyond festival at the Castro which featured an excellent Swiss film. Anyhow, I spent half the movie ruminating the coffee I had there (no pun intended) and today I discover it is going to open right under my nose. This sort of thing is starting to appear to be my life's principle.. Somthing to rely on.
Being destitute does not fit with the American way of life. What I have in mind is the following; I need 6 text books for school and each book costs 137$ in its Used version!
At any rate, I myself, in my more opulent state of aggregation, would not even give it a second thought. I’m ashamed to say that last semester I simply whisked off the necessary text books off of the shelves and took them to the register, without affording the price a mere glance. Anyhow, these days, the prodigal daughter is wanting for cash and therefore decided to either steal or to rely on her self-proclaimed intelligence. In other words, I decided to do without. That’s it. Simple enough.
Well, after the first class actually took place, I revisited my vanity and decided to see whether the library carried the books. Well, it does – all bar one. So, I looked into the web to see my options. This deserves an interlude:
My aside: We should do something, in Israel, about our meager access to the web. In essence, I feel that I’ve become a true Internet operator only since moving here. First of all: Pandora. How can you live without Pandora? Secondly? Amazon used books. Don’t you think it is high time we get a chance to grab some of that secondary market? It is absurd that we can’t. Thirdly: Ebay! Common. We need eBay. It makes the markets work well… it is obvious, us in the Levant are just not getting enough virtual juice.
Markets working well – this is what my example is all about. I got the book on eBay for 13.99 + tax + delivery. I’m withholding my enthusiasm until the day that I actually receive it (expected delivery date: tomorrow morning). But listen, if it actually works, it is almost embarrassing to be rich and unsavvy – not having the incentive to look for better deals just makes you incredibly stupid, or at the very least, an inexorable Fraier!
To continue my tale about poverty – come Y’s birthday last month I figured that we should assign ourselves to the endearing idea of preparing our own gifts. Of course, this is a concept that in more abundant years used to seem to me to be kind of bogus. But, due to financial hardships, I’ve grown more fond of the idea…
So, of course, I never gave him a present and this fact came back to haunt me recently as I am feeling my own birthday becoming more imminent by the day.
Now my idea of the day was to meticulously and lovingly prepare Y a patent. I mean, what better says “I love you” than a patent application? I can’t think of anything. So, today, I started at the task. I sat through an Intellectual Property class and figured that it oughtn't be all that difficult. The current legal state of the art is in Re Bilski. No problem. This should be really easy, shouldn’t it? Of course, glancing through the text book rendered me somewhat impuissant. Hence came the thought that I should write about it quickly so as to nail down some points for thoughtfulness at least.
• Written from Crixa(!) nothing to add. Bliss and all that…
• Another note: I find that when I am happy I am drop-dead boring.
A business plan is one thing I didn’t think I was going to do again ever since figuring out that I might just be able to realize my dream of doing something that I actually enjoy doing instead of working in high tech...
I am surprised though, apparently when you do it for something of your own, something you truly believe in, it is actually fun. Also, I am quite confident in making the humble statement that I am fantastic at it.
So again, everything is going spectacularly well. Again we had a great time with my program cohort – it amazes me each time what a fantastic bunch they are; truly the nicest, most interesting people. Also, I had an interesting day at school. And now I am at Crixa working alongside Y on our project.
written from jupiter's. did I mention it had both outlets and airbears wifi? well it does. we are sitting with our computers. as usual, y is working and I am fooling around with my blog while looking from the window over Shattuck Ave in its evening mode.
Ok. So it was my first day today. I am so tired. really exhausted. It’s funny. I think it is a combination of the run I had yesterday, the bike ride to school which I am no longer used to and the strain of class. One by one we met two people whom we’ve known to be here but whom by some remarkable way managed to avoid us up until today. We were on our way to see a matinee – extremely unusual for us. Mostly we either go to see a film when we are too tired to do anything else or when there’s something extraordinary showing in the PFA or in San Francisco. This reminds me that on one occasion when I was listening in on a conversation in café 504 I overheard that there’s a fantastic film house in Oakland which I must go to (and will on Wednesday!). But today was different. Y had an interview, and I am always up for a good time.
Anyhow, there’s one thing memorable about today (maybe two if you count the German guy who sat next to me in and who made me feel real good about myself): today there was a professor from the University of Tehran in class with me. Prof. Cooter presented him as a distinguished scholar from Iran and then asked that each of us introduced himself. When I spoke I made sure that he knew where I was from. That is because in my mind I could already see myself talking to him, telling him that I hope we could be colleagues, shaking his hand - to the immediate result of being notified by the Swedish Royal Academy that I am to become the 2009 Nobel peace prize laureate, an honor which I was quite benevolently content to share with my new friend.
Natually though, my award-partner just got up and left class following prof. Cooter, without even granting me with a nod or even a congenial back turn.
Written from Coffee Bar. If only they had low fat milk, or at least reduced fat, I would have gladly moved in.
I have to practice.
That is it.
I have to practice.
It doesn’t matter whether I sound foolish or not. I must speak without fancy preparation. Just speak. Say my mind. Make sure I have a mind. I mean it. When you don’t see yourself as a potential participant in the conversation, you adopt this mode of passive absorption. And when you are there, it is not just that you dare not utter word, it is that you don’t have a word to utter.
I am not sure what it is that is stopping me. It might be Zommer and the way he made sure to abase me, or at least to humble me, in our debut class in Thelma Yellin. How different I was that first time, highly engaged, constantly speaking up. I think that was the last time. Perhaps it is Itamar, or adolescence altogether that made me scorn those that did speak. Always suspecting that it was for the benefit of hearing their own voices.
This may have been the reason for my adoption of a particular etiquette for classroom behavior: (1) don’t repeat what has already been said, or the immediate implications of what was said, or what you believe was said. No one is an idiot and therefore there’s no need to stress the obvious. Those who do stress the obvious are laughable. Or at least, they are highfalutin. I don’t want to appear pompous. (2) even less than immediate implications of what had been previously said might be obvious implications to somebody in class. Therefore, beware! Many times the less than obvious is obvious. (3) When you do think you have something particularly intriguing to say, make sure you prepare yourself thoroughly before hand. Even at the price of not listening to anything that was said in the mean time. (4) if you think that while you were preparing yourself, someone may have said something similar, or if you think that the conversation strayed, just relinquish the idea to declare your thoughts. It wasn’t worth the “looking like a full” Expectation. (5)If there is something you know is true for a source external to the classroom, refrain from saying it. Only a louse would feign understanding, when in fact it is prior knowledge. (6) after you have gone through all these steps, if you are still bold enough to speak, make sure you speak as curtly as possible, so that you don’t insult the intelligence of your listeners. If, as a result, nobody gets to the bottom of what you are saying, don’t fret, just wait for the next chance – it may avail itself in a month or so. (7) and last and not least: when you shut up and do it faithfully enough, people think that you are shy, but not that you are idiot. If you break the cycle of silence, you stop being consistent about not making a whisper, people assume that when you don’t speak, it’s because you don’t have anything intelligent to say. Therefore, it would usually not be a good idea to do it.
This etiquette produces specifically one result => under no circumstances should you speak. However, while writing all this, I cannot but realize how much sense it really does make. And besides, if you don’t speak you might also be able to escape being asked to share your thoughts about the Gaza enterprise…
Saturday morning in the apartment. I have to do all the coffee drinking – paper reading – balloon getting in this joint because Y is asleep.
I was going to entitle this: Men and Laundry, but decided I am not all that bitter yet about men and their worldly ways.
At any rate –
I was done with the colors (cleaning and drying). Yoav was dealing with the whites.
And thus, this morning when I go in the laundry shack to get the key for the Out-going mailbox I encounter a pair of white underwear (of course white! All the colored made their way safely back home four days ago and in pristine state). That white underwear pronounced quite recognizably the word: דלתא and therefore, could not be mistaken for gentile underwear :).
Of course, when you lose underwear in a public place and they can be traced back to you, destiny has it that it’s never your best Sunday pair, if you know what I mean.
Alas.
• Written from home. Morning.Now I realize it is important to record the time of day as well. This metadata stuff is getting too much of a hassle, overpowering the content. Of course, it always does.
We made a truly important step ahead with our project yesterday night. So I am feeling enthusiasm percolating through my exhausted brain joints. It’s funny. You have an idea you truly believe in. You believe that you yourself can do it and in flying colors. You have a presentation in flying colors to prove it. And still, you constantly feel the need to prove it to yourself. So last night I got another piece of evidence. Heck, I got another piece of evidence on our way home from our coffee-shop office when Y shared his ideas of that working day. Shreds of evidence aren’t hard to come by these days. Still, we have so much at stake, which makes us ourselves our fiercest reviewers. We already put a lot on the line that I am almost feeling as though the Angel in us, the one who opted to make that humongous investment, is a separate persona, with different goals, incentives and interests than our entrepreneurial selves. Like a true Angel. However, at this point, both of our psyche shreds are holding their breaths. We’ll be there to see what happens.
Written from E-22. By the way, it’s not that I forgot my plan to specify where I’m writing the post from. It’s simply that Y thought that I shouldn’t write that we are in NYC so that Berkeley burglars who are of course avid readers of my post won’t find it advantageous to come and steal our belongings (which comprise mainly of laundry detergents and not much more but detergent is costly!). I was also supposed to refrain from uploading posts written in NYC. I told Y that it’s impossible to know where I’m at, but he is now claiming that no one writes theoretically about experiences at the MOMA, the living room and Balthazar. I retorted that I am a true academic – I can write theoretically about doing the dishes. But he may have been in fact right (quite extraordinarily. Usually I am the right one).
Ok. So I am mildly concerned about being sued due to an online Yelp review I wrote. I was a bit frantic as I wrote it but decided at the time that since I believe every bit of what I am writing, that I oughtn’t to be scared. That convinced me to some extent, and I quite nearly managed to push it out of the circle of my most pressing neurotic thoughts. Apart from the occasional dream about being sought by savage dogs, I was fine.
However today, there was a SF Chronicle article about a guy who was actually sued for defamation. The rational agent that resides deep within my psyche is telling me that I have nothing to fear because I was careful to write the absolute truth about my own experience at the place. And I am writing this post as further shock treatment (because I am of course now afraid that this post will be used in my trial as evidence that I myself acknowledged my gaffe.)
At any rate, Y actually thinks that it would be good for Israel if I am sued – due to the content of my post. Whereas I, being afraid for my own back, don’t give two hoots about that. I am managing, though, to convince myself that it would be good for my CV to have a rich courthouse experience . Anyhow, start saving your pennies for my bail – I’m too pretty for jail.
what an improvement.
there's air.
you can drink water off the faucet.
people clear the entrance when you are trying to exit the BART.
coming to think of it - i was impressed by something much more modest: that people don't pee in the BART.
everything is shiny. it's funny how resilient we've become - it's 16c and not me nor y thought about wearing our jackets. this is because in comparison
to newyo-sibersk here it is blazing hot.
everybody is friendly. the masseuse on the BART (she had a massage arm chair with her - i'm not inventing this!) chippered happily to the stranger seated in front of her who confessed to back pains.
I bet in NYC the same masseuse would pee on the same stranger talking shop to her in the middle of the day and on the Subway.
Y already started on our Pizza dinner, and i've begun eating raw dough each time he glances away. Indeed we are home!
While I’m working hard at my hard upper lip, we went to MOMA. And what can I say! They do make a fantastic chocolate chip cookie! I’d recommend that everybody travel to Manhattan, walk over to the Museum of Modern Art, go right through the entrance, walk straight, don’t look left or right (there are picture and sculptures… nothing too fancy) push the white door knob, place yourself in line, advance slowly to the register, ask for a cookie(!) , grab your number flag, sit down in a conspicuous place, wait for your cookie and then eat it in one bite lest your party (Y) has time to develop strange ideas (like asking for a taste).
Then you can have coffee to restrain the urge for another cookie. Then write a post to restrain the urge to have another cookie. Then go to see a film at MOMA (Anjeska Holland) and sit in the middle of the row so that you are unable to run out and get another cookie. Then make sure that they close the Museum before you leave the theatre. You should be fine.
(yes, I know, I know, ich bin eine Berkelynere – but why ruin a good simile?)
What can I say – NYC just doesn’t cut it. It is simply not SF. I can’t believe that there are people that disagree with that claim. When you ignore all the flashy lights, you can’t help but realize that SF is much more beautiful, both its natural beauty – the topography, the ocean, etc. (I’m cutting the list here because I don’t want to be too boastful, but it is long…) and the architecture. The NY art scene might be slightly better, but I think it is true when you are considering the giant museum arena and not at all sure where the balance strikes when it comes to small galleries. And Yoshi’s simply offers the exact same jazz menu as the Blue Note… I’ll check and post my opinion about the SF classical music arena, but I am sure it is more than adequate – I mean, even the level of the concerts on Zellerbach hall is a telling sign, a hint that I am not going to be disappointed. And SF has Yosemite, Lake Tahoe, Marine, Carmel, etc. at its back yard! NY seems to have New Jerzey(!) (Ok. I know I am exaggerating a little here, but I am making a point.
I was going to end by saying something like – “still, both are not more than Tel-Aviv’s rubble”. Let’s pretend I did.
