Am very happy today. I slept in till 12:45, got up, tidied, read the paper, surfed the net...just as Shabbat should be. Then Matt and Eugene came over bearing pizza with onions and eggplant, and we all sat down and watched "24." Now they're gone, and my apartment is quiet and clean, and finally, finally, I feel ready to sit down and study. (Never mind that I'm online at the moment).
Last night we went to the party we'd been invited to the night before, in a ramshackle, wonderful apartment in the city center. The previous owners had built a wall around the front yard, covered the ceiling with plastic, and pronounced the courtyard a living room. So we sat in the front yard/living room, staring at the wall--entirely painted into a green, black, and orange mural of trees or something, drinking, dancing, and alternating languages.
The owner of the apartment, and our host, was a young Isaeli named Nimrod. I found that fascinating. Correct me if I'm wrong here, but isn't that sort of like naming your daughter Jezebel or something? Anyway, he's nothing like his name--a really nice guy--and all of his friends were very welcoming and open. I ended up dancing with this crazy guy named Daniel, who made me laugh with his utter un-self-consciousness. I also saw Yoni there, the guy who decided I was Jewish, and I still haven't confessed that I'm not--even after he called me a JAP when I told him I'd never smoked out of a bong before. I suppose that's what you get for such presumption.
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