Oregon Shmoregon

So, this blog, through no fault of its own, just sputtered out and died. It was sad.

It's now being redeemed, born again, as it were, like the Hebrews through the Red Sea, or my own reincarnation as a potato bug five hundred years ago on the Great Plains. (Buffalo stepped on me. Wasn't pretty.)

Yayin Tov was about my journey of a lifetime to Israel - really about my life - but writing about it began to bore me after a while.

Now I'm back in Oregon, a statement I never thought I would be saying so soon - and certainly not with so much satisfaction. But I am. And I'm loving it. See, Yayin Tov, which means good wine in Hebrew, is a symbol of the finer things in life - love, family, best friends, good food, good drink, stunning sunsets and those little happy moments in life in which you sit back and sigh, "Because life IS GOOD."

Now I'm on track to go to medical school - because I figure I've had so many good things in my life, I just need to punish myself so that I'll appreciate them. Just kidding.

But I am going to medical school. I start classes January 5 at Portland Community College - Biology and Math 111 - the first of my MANY prerequisites for med school. Life is amazing. If you would have told me ten years ago that I was going to be studying my brains out, voluntarily taking math and science classes or taking the MCATs, I would have laughed heartily in your face and told you to lay off the grass.

But here I am.

I'm also moving up to Portland early next week, renting a room in a cute and BIG house in charming John's Landing. I still can't believe the deal I got - a room in a fully furnished three-bedroom house (not apartment) - with a REALLY SWEET and FUN roommate who's doing her pharmacy residency at OHSU. And all of that for only $500 / month. It's amazing really, so amazing in fact that I about gave my mom a stroke when I took the room - because I was jobless.

I'm still semi-jobless, thanks to a stupid economy, but I will be lifeguarding again, which I also never thought I'd say. Lifeguards are just lazy college dropouts who can't get real jobs, right?

The universe has a sense of humor apparently, and it's laughing as I eat my words.

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008)

Low on hope? Think the world is about to destroy itself? Ok, you're probably not thinking that, but this incredible video will make you smile nonetheless. Click here for more information and background.

I'm on a Where the Hell is Matt? binge!

Ok, so I've been trying to post a video from YouTube onto my blog for the last couple of days, and it doesn't seem to be working. I guess I love it so much and want to share it so badly with the world, that I'll just give you the link and you can check it out yourself.

Where the Hell is Matt?

You can read all about it here

What a beautiful picture of humanity! I love it!!!

Which Superhero are You?

I took the "Which Superhero are You?" test. Apparently I'm Superman. I always liked him. Mild-mannered, with a tendency to wear blue tights and fly around rescuing people.
But I also apparently have flashes of Wonder Woman (naturally), Spider Man (I hate spiders, but give me Toby Maguire all wet and hanging upside down ready for a kiss any day) and the Flash (Too quick for you!!!)
Kudos to dad for the tip.
Your results:
You are Superman
Superman 85%
Wonder Woman 77%
Spider Man 70%
The Flash 70%
The Green Lantern 70%
Supergirl 67%
Catwoman 65%
Robin 64%
Iron Man 60%
Batman 55%
Hulk 40%
Click here to take the Superhero Personality Test

"Victory is for the one...who has no thought of himself."

Into a soul absolutely free
From thoughts and emotion,
Even the tiger finds no room
To insert its fierce claws.

One and the same breeze passes
Over the pines on the mountain
And the oak trees in the valley;
And why do they give different notes?

No thinking, no reflecting,
Perfect emptiness:
Yet therein something moves,
Following its own course.

The eye sees it,
But no hands can take hold of it -
The moon in the stream.

Clouds and mists,
They are midair transformations;
Above them eternally shine the sun and the moon.

Victory is for the one,
Even before the combat,
Who has no thought of himself,
Abiding in the no-mind-ness of Great Origin.

From the Tao of Jeet Kune Do.

"For the first time, I really did feel Israeli."

Life is a precarious thing, and not just in Israel. Just down the border in Gaza, six people died recently in a bombing (for once, not blamed on us), five people drowned this weekend off the Israeli coast, a very sweet, good friend of mine in the States died last week and I nearly got hit by a car tonight on my bike, a split-second experience that took my breath away with its proximity to tragedy. (My proximity to tragedy).

I've often wondered what this very thin line is that separates us from death. What is it that keeps my heart pumping blood through my body and my lungs taking in oxygen and my cells working doing whatever it is they do? What keeps me on THIS side - where I'm alive, with friends and family and a stable job and air in my lungs, instead of on THAT side - where I'm six feet under?

What separates me from, say, Gilad Shalit, the Israeli soldier still sitting somewhere in that shithole called Gaza? Or from Karnit Goldwasser - the wife of Ehud Goldwasser, one of the kidnapped soldiers whose body was just returned two weeks ago to Israel in a black box after being somewhere in Lebanon for two years? Why them and not me?

But it's not so simple. Tonight, I rode my bike down to Dizengoff to return a video to Dizi (a really cool video store slash laundromat slash cafe where you can rent a movie (and a laptop) and order something to eat while you do your laundry). On the way, i passed through Rabin Square, where a rally last week was held for and by Gilad's platoon, which was being discharged, for his release. A graffiti-ed message said,

"We are all in this together."

Which is really what it is after all in this country. Almost two weeks ago I sat, glued to the computer screen, as Ehud's and Eldad's bodies were being returned to Israel (no one knew up to that point whether they were alive or dead). I felt so sad, so heavy and so grieved over the tragedy of it all. That night, a new immigrant I met asked me if I felt Israeli after being here for almost two years. I knew the answer almost without thinking: "You know," I said to her, "this morning, for the first time, I really did feel Israeli."

I told this to an Israeli friend the next evening, and he said, "With what happened, you actually felt what it was like to be an Israeli." And then we went back to our appetizers.

80 Years of the Kibbutz in Israel - In Photos

Hi! It's me.... Remember me?
I'm popping out of editorial seclusion for a brief moment - just for one thing.
Click here for a mediocre article with GREAT PHOTOS of the last 80 years of kibbutz life in the Land of Israel.
No wonder modern-day Israelis are so frickin' tough....
Oh, and click here if you don't know what a kibbutz is.
Anyway, that's it for now. Late. Sleep...zzzzzz......