June 23, 2012 - The Office

Israel has finally finished it's holiday extravaganza, the winter has officially diminished, and the sun has become more brutal. So much so that if I sit in the sun for an hour, I'm guaranteed a sun burn of ungodly proportions and coming back from the local AM:PM is like coming back from swimming in the ocean. Soon jelly fish season will start and I will be unable to swim in the ocean (which I have learned, no body in Israel sees the beach as a swimming place and more of a mating place. Go figure.) so that leaves me the option of finding the pool, my goal is now to find the local Gordon Pool... in the sun... joy.

Life In The Office


Avenging Madonna
May 31, 2012
The fun thing about my work place is it's location. It's right across the street from the soccer stadium (where a few weeks ago was a soccer match between Tel Aviv and Haifa), and right next to the stadium is the Ayalon Mall. So when news of The Avengers came out, I had to go see it... of course waiting almost two weeks after it's initial launch in the States. Desperate to see the movie once it was released in the states, I asked around if people were willing to see it. Either they saw it already (via bootleg) or don't care. Luckily, my work place is filled with geeks. So I asked around and the programmer of the company agreed to see it with me because neither of us saw it while everyone else in the office have. We agreed on May 31 to see it together, completely forgetting that at the same time, there was to be a Madonna concert.

On the day of the movie date (honestly, we were seeing it as friends and nothing more, so don't get any ideas) while waiting for the clock to move forward, we heard her. Madonna, right across the street from us, was rehearsing one more time before her big show, and while I'm not a big fan of Madonna, I will say that it was beyond awesome to hear her and knowing that she was right across the street from me. The guys in the office groaned (apparently the last time they heard a singer rehearse was Justin Bieber, and that was brutal) but I found the amazingness of it all. Time passed, and I left for the mall, only having to wait for an hour for the programmer to come.

Once we bought our tickets (and him getting popcorn for the both of us), we took our spots they assigned us and enjoyed the movie for what it had to offer us (and yes, I was more excited for the movie then anything else. Also it was an amazing movie). Once it ended, he had things to do and I wanted to head home, we bid each other good night and left. Madonna made sure the block off the streets so I had to walk an extra fifteen minutes to the nearest bus stop when I heard her. And the shouts and cheers of her fans. I quickly took out my iPod and just recorded her song. What I FAILED at doing, was catching the end where she yells out to her adoring fans "SHALOM TEL AVIV!!"

We Made It Big
June 5, 2012

At my work place, we have officially launched the game I've been play testing. Meaning now I can state it's name, which is Mini Ninja Adventures for the Xbox Kinect (it's a download-only game). I was sitting in my space when one of the guys came in and was freaking out about the announcement. My boss, creative director (been having issues with him a bit), and my QA "boss" all flew out to L.A for E3 (a big event for video games) leaving a few amount of people. We all ran to the nearest computer (as for me, scooted my chair closer to my desk) to look at our website for the news and lo and behold; my website design was up and running. With big changes. I originally told them to lose the black and dark background in place of a brighter, cleaner, approach, all this basing off of the design of one website they really liked as well as telling them to put a video instead of a slideshow of pictures because people want something in their face, not something that requires them to sit and read.

What I got instead was almost a kick to the face.

We got their brighter background, as I instructed, and we got the moving graphics in the menu (again, something I instructed), but instead of a white, clean, and neutral color... I got a big fat graphic of the Mini Ninjas game. Okay, I showed them my design of a Mini Ninja-esque website to show at E3, but it was so in the face that I didn't know how to react. And the video... the video made me want to head desk so hard. When I asked who was the idiot that thought that the video was to be a slideshow of the pictures (which, by the way, COMPLETELY DEFEATS THE PURPOSE OF A VIDEO), one of the people in the office told me, in a very "obvious" tone, that it was the Creative Director.

I wanted to punch a wall.

Taking a deep breath and counting till 10 (a technique my aunt taught me when dealing with my uncle) I simply (really attempted) shrugged it off as a "heat of the moment" technical thing, we were already a month behind the deadline of the website so the day of E3 and needing a website, it made sense that the video was a complete pile of shit. When they came back two weeks later (after my own week off... that's in a video) we threw a huge party for the success of the game's launch and had sushi (to the disgust of one of the workers who helped me throughout the website ordeal... he was in China the whole week) and got some "swag". I got a huge T-shit, four buttons, and a sticker. To be perfectly honest, this is probably the closest I'll ever get to E3, and I cherish each item greatly.

www.sidekick.co.il (Website Name Just In Case...)




The New Intern
June 2012-Present
Prior to my Boss leaving for E3, he told me that we would be getting a new intern who was also from the states and he was to help us with the website because he knows how to code and program websites.

About. Time.

If this meant that I didn't have to deal with those idiots back at the website company ever again, then I'll be happy forever. I will admit, at first I was a bit jealous that my Boss brought in someone new and probably more useful than an art student and will get the best out of this guy, but I shortly found out why he told me. It was because I was about to work and almost be this guy's boss. I did the creative design of the website, and I needed the tools... now comes this guy who knows the tools but not the design, meaning he will need me to tell him what I want to see on the website.

So now that the guy is here, I found out who he was and the one thing we had in common (aside from both of us being from the states and are only here because of a Jewish program) is that we both worked with UDK. And I can only say that when he brought it up, THAT felt like I was finally reunited with an old friend. Up until that point he would only come up to me and talk to me about how drunk he was and all the bars he goes to... something that is completely far from my interests. I already deal with drunks in my own program, I sure as hell didn't need it in my internship. So when he slipped that he worked once at UDK as an intern, I finally found something to talk to him about. And we would spend hours talking about it and how it's amazing.

I stated earlier in my entries that when I came to work and seeing everyone talking about Maya and Photoshop felt like home for me, having someone to talk to about UDK was walking through memory lane. Memory lane without the anger I felt when I got the e-mail from my professor. It was only the good times I had with it, the struggle of textures and such. Finally was someone I could talk to about and share stories about the time UDK crashed, or how much of a pain it was to transfer textures... but the end results was the same, and the sensation of joy that we created something with our own hands.

But all things must come to an end, cause every time I tried to bring back UDK, he would go back to talking about the arak, to my annoyance. I finally bit the bullet and asked how old he was (I know, I know, hypocrite move of me) because this was a conversation I needed to clear up to understand why he was so hell bent into talking about alcohol. Turns out he recently turned twenty, and the legal age in the states is twenty one where as in Israel it's I think sixteen.

Totally. Freaking. Sense.

It was his first time being "legal" and he's here until August, so why not take the most advantage of it? Once I understood why he was constantly insisting talking about bars, I broke the news to him that I simply do not care about the bars in Israel and would much rather focus my money on food and clothes as oppose to taxi rides, club fees, and alcohol.

Still, he's a brilliant guy and helped getting the website ready. I... did butt heads a lot with the Creative Director because I wanted certain things on the website where as he wanted to add more chaos into it. God bless my Boss for intervening and leaving the website's life in mine and the Intern's hands.

May 24, 2012 - Webisode One, Mickey's Debut!

Other wise known as "Why it took forever for Mickey to upload a new journal entry." It should be noted that it takes forever to edit videos. It was worth it, so expect more!

The Good, The Bad, and The Angry pt.2

The World's Worst Drivers
I've seen it first hand. I've seen the psychotic-ness of Israeli drivers. And he takes the form of my dad. Ever since I was little, my dad was the type who drove in very fast and very jerky manner. I mean, he's a safe driver and hasn't killed or run through anything, and he's always the one driving on trips, but when there's road rage. He's the epitome of it. It was during a drive back from the dentist when we encountered really bad rush hour when he nonchalantly comments "This is why I wish I had rockets attached to the car. So I can blow them up and drive right through..." I joked about how I would just use a flying car to which he goes "...A flying car with rockets."

So imagine my reaction to the crazy Israeli drivers that roam the sidewalks. My mom even pointed out that she would never be caught driving in Israel BECAUSE of said crazy drivers. While my dad simply mutters with annoyance, occasionally honks, and grunts in frustration, Israeli drivers are like that. Only a million times worse. Ranging from trying to run me over, claiming it's their right of way even though I'm the one with the green light and they are the ones on red, and god forbid actually using the the sidewalk. Israeli drivers, are, bar non, the worst things to have happened in Israel. There is nothing good about them aside from road rage. In fact, Israel is the only place where if you fender bender someone, it's perfectly normal, but using the crosswalk to get to the other side of the road? You're just being selfish and stupid.

One night after Ulpan, a bunch of us were heading to the bus stop to take from home (you could walk and it would take roughly the same amount of time), we looked to see if any cars were coming our way but it was almost a dead street, as we were walking, we noticed a car coming by, and we were thinking that it was probably going by the speed limit. Until we heard it stepping on the gas pedal, causing the engine to roar. We whipped our heads to the car and noticed it was speeding at a dangerous speed and aiming at us, not even thinking twice we ran for the side walk and jumped as fast as we could away from the car. What basically happened was the same treatment we were giving to the stray cats, only instead of kicking with our feet in the air, the car tried to run us over. 

Israelis' also don't believe in the concept of turning around for anything. Like backing up. The building where I work, as mentioned before, is on a street of nothing but car shops, so naturally there will be a lot of cars going in and out either backwards or forward. So when I'm walking, I usually have to keep 100% attention to where everything is, because all the cars love to backup and not even look behind themselves, I got bumped, honked, and yelled at for walking by them and for yelling at them to watch where they're going for once in their stupid life. One day in particular I was coming back from the mall to grab some food (something other than pasta) when I noticed there was a lot of traffic. Meaning I can walk between the cars without the fear of being ran over, if I went quickly enough. As I was making my way through, I see a car ZOOMING at me (convinced it's the same guy who's trying to run me over or back up into me) when he screeches and honks, his window being rolled up, I only hear the muffle yells from his angry red face. I turn around and just shrugged at him. He shouldn't be driving like Evil Kanevil and expect me to move out of my way for him. And there isn't exactly a big enough sidewalk. In fact there's only ONE sidewalk. And it was the one I was trying to get to avoid people like him. He zooms to the building I pass by, slams the door open and proceeds to yell to a stranger about "THE STUPID FUCKING [word too vulgar to be online] WHO HAS THE FUCKING HEADPHONES!" Although in my defense, the headphones were around my neck so I can hear the honking. So I smiled, flicked him off, and made my way back to the building where I work.

Hey, when in Rome...

And speaking of sidewalks! Scooter and Motorcycle riders. They believe that just because the vehicle they are riding is two wheels and in the open, justifies the reason why they are allowed to ride the sidewalk like a normal cyclist. I get honked at for being on the sidewalk and blocking their way. Any other time, if it was in the movies for example, I would think it's cool that they defy the law and ride on the sidewalk. This isn't the movies and it sure as hell is a pain to hear them honking and yelling at you to get out of the way. Granted, their yelling is just them putting more pressure on the gas and the smell is a dead giveaway, but never the less. Nothing is safe and everything is trying to run you over.

I honestly believe if we send the Israeli drivers to war, preferably in their own cars and guaranteed with full on road rage, we would win hands down every time. Every time.

Kids, Shut Up!
From what I was told, parents put their kids on pedestals. And who can blame them? It's their flesh and blood, it's their livelihood, it's their branch to the ever growing family tree. Any parent around the world, no matter what, will always look at their kids at theirs. Now what makes Israel's kids different is the fact that they are, to put it bluntly, spoiled. They get everything by throwing a tantrum, calling their parents stupid, disobeying authoritative figures (e.g. teachers), and basically thinking that the world is theirs and there by they deserve everything. It could be theirs, if they knew the right tone of voice to use. But sadly, they don't, and they look like a great big bag of crap while doing it. To put it in perspective, if the show "Keeping Up With The Kardasians" married "Toddlers and Tiaras" and had a love affair with "Jersey Shore", that would basically be Israeli kids. In the states (or any other country in the world for that matter) had spoiled kids, they wouldn't take it, they would punish them (be it physically or vocally) and nip it at the bud. Parents are your friends, but you had to know the line which not to pass; refusing the chore you were given was right there a sure guarantee for a scolding. Calling them stupid, idiots, and telling them to stop being parents however? That was earned with a nice smack and a "go to your room and think what you've done." 

I experienced the spoiled kids with my cousins for the few times I was around. The oldest one played this online game constantly, ever since I came to Israel, she was caught playing that game and would cry her eyes out whenever she was told to stop playing. Neither of the girls would listen to their dad and would blatantly ignore him when he called their names, showering the newborn with affection. I figured it was them being sisterly and loving the new born, but at one point it got way over board. The middle child just follows what the oldest one does, and the oldest one is spoiled rotten.

One day I was changing clothes, (had to go to the bathroom because she practically stole my room to play her online game), I hear the youngest one is crying like crazy with my uncle trying to calm him but needing to do other things. The middle child was trying her best to help my uncle out while he was calling for the oldest one to come and help as well. The sisterly affection thing, I pointed out earlier. She didn't even bother saying "what", so when my uncle told the middle one to get her, she went into the room and told her to come out and help, still, ignored. My uncle then put the baby down, and told the middle one to keep an eye on him and to try to cheer him up while he went to scold the oldest. What ended up happening was him threatening to take her computer away and her bawling her eyes out, begging, not to have the laptop taken away, as if child services came to take her kid. So when my uncle ask if she was going to help and actually answer him when he asks for her, she answered back:

"I don't have to... stop it dad."

Laptop privileges revoked. Hysterical crying ensued.  

Don't get me wrong, the middle child has her moments as well, but they aren't as severe as the older child, usually the whines from the middle originate from an action the oldest has done. The worst she's done (from what I've seen) was her trying to clean the tent one picnic and the oldest didn't do anything, so the middle one, feeling unjustified, begins to yell at the top of her lungs about how her parents are worthless and aren't helping her. When the dad and mom insist she's doing a wonderful job, the middle one just simply yells and cries. I'm guessing she would rather see the older one do her fair share over her parents' approval.

Doesn't help that across the street from me there a family with, what I assume, a single mom and three kids. They look roughly the same ages of my cousins, and are bad, if not worse. One night I was dreaming I was on a train touring Switzerland, it was nice, coach, and very luxurious, when suddenly the room points focus on a little girl screaming at the top of her lungs as she is holding on as long as she can to the carpet so as not to fly off the train to the barbed wire for tracks below as the female train conductor came yelling at the girl in a language I couldn't understand as the girl screamed louder, crying. I got scared, I had no idea what was going on and jolted myself awake with the scream of the conductor and the girl still going on. But I wasn't dreaming? How is it possible that I still hear them? I shuffled out of my bed and to the source of the sound which was by my window and lo and behold. The woman (conductor) yelling, holding the baby in her arms and the middle child on her leg, while the (what I assume) oldest is yelling and crying at the woman. The subconscious works in weird ways. One of things I noticed was in my dream, I didn't understand the language they were speaking in, but looking at them, I realized they were refugees, and were speaking the language of their homeland. The mom was yelling at the boy and walked in big strides to him as the kid ran another ten feet away from her, keeping a distance between them. He then came running back and proceeded to smack his mother with his hand until the mom yelled (I admit, I was terrified myself) and the boy ran again, only five feet instead of ten). They stared at each other as the middle child stayed by his mom when the oldest charged at them and proceeded to whip them (and by extension, the baby she was holding) with his blanket. Fortunately, the mom caught it in the first swing and with one powerful tug, yanked it out of the boy's arm and did a gesture I thought was extinct in Israel:

She raised her arm up, clearly ready to bring it down hard.

The boy cries, and runs away as fast as he can as she takes quick stride hand still ready to collide with the child's face, calling the middle child to follow suit so she can, what I assume, take them to school (their school bags was a give away).

But with every bad kid, there are good ones. One of the people's kids at my internship came by twice since I was here and both times she say quietly watching whatever movie her dad had at the time. She had amazing taste for she picked Mary Poppins over a Barbie movie, resulting with her dad going "Again Mary Poppin?" She just nodded her head, grabbed a coloring book, and proceeded to watch and draw at the same time. And then there's my baby cousin, I mentioned him before in a previous journal how his smile and laugh can steal your heart. I just hope he retains that good nature as he gets older, only time can tell.

See you guys in my next journal entry.

"Don't Panic."
     -Douglas Adams, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

The Good, The Bad, and The Angry pt.1

Israelis: notorious for being loud, crazy, selfish, and yet motherly and welcoming. It has been now almost two full months since I've been here and I still get shocked by the behavior I receive from the folks of Israel. Israelis have their own "knack" of showing who they are towards their fellow man, and most of the time, they are just really really pissed off. And who can blame them? When half the world hates them and the guy right next to them is cursing their mother for cutting him off at a green light, and yet when the time calls for it, they can join hand in hand as friends like nothing happened. Until the bastard decides to walk in the middle of the street while the other is doing 90 in a 20 mile zone trying to beat the unbeatable red light.

I already discussed the amazing capabilities of Israeli way back in the beginning regarding the awesome flight crew helping me find my passports, but I've never gone into full details about the remaining citizens. I was planning on writing about them with each journal entry, but then it would have become a common motif if it happens daily, so I thought "why not do a whole journal entry about them?" and as I was writing down the pros and cons of them: it filled up two pages.

Two. PAGES.

Meaning two journal entries about people. That's two pages why I think that the American style of raising a kid is a MILLION times better then the Israeli way, two pages why the elderly truly and royally piss me off and I completely respect my dad's job, and two pages of the behavior the Jewish Nation has and why I think they are the most brilliant, yet stupidly messed up nation and how it's truly a miracle we are surviving as long as we are doing it.

Obey The Elderly. 
The elderly people here are weird. REALLY weird, like, not even comedic weird. I always heard fun (or really interesting) stories from my dad about his patients and how some of them can either be the sweetest, the funniest, or the scariest (one story consist of a patient threatening my dad with a shotgun. Don't hold me word to it) so I was expecting some odd behavior from them.

And odd behavior I got!

April 4, 2012
The night before I was working on a huge presentation that I was to present to the company in regards to an updated website, and as an artist (hate that word), how I would make it better to get more people to look at the website. I'm OCD, so I was up till three in the morning coloring each page (roughly ten slides in the presentation) and double checking my typos. I have my alarm set to eight each morning so I can start my day and have time to eat and fix my bed, but today was the one day I decided "screw it" and just changed, washed up, and left for the bus stop. By the time I reached my bus, I put on my headphones and drifted off for a quick snooze, seeing as it was a thirty minute bus ride and today the bus was being extra slow, meaning it was a forty minute bus ride. When I woke up to see where I was (and remember, only five hours of sleep), I was thrown off to where I was that I hopped off my chair and went to the front of the bus in hopes to ask the bus drive to stop to see if I can get off. I go to the driver and said "Slicha" ("sorry" in Hebrew) when I felt a shove and an old man (roughly 70 by the look of him and his cane) glancing at me. I was holding on the rails of the bus so I wouldn't fly to the back seeing as the bus is jerky (balance is non-existent), and I was already unbalanced enough as it is. The guy then proceeded to scold me:

"Sorry? SORRY?! Do you see us?! We're here waiting, who do you think you are? Just because you said sorry you automatically assume you're PERMITTED to go in front of us?"

He then proceeded to smack my hand off the railing and yelled at me to go to the back of the bus. I was completely thrown off as to what the hell just happened that I couldn't retort back to him. I did find out however, that I was just reaching my stop, and it was just my exhaustion that threw me off.

April 5, 2012
This was a day after the bus incident, but it didn't ruin my whole day, because today was the day I presented and was on cloud nine. So I went to celebrate by going all out and getting a great dinner, which consisted of salmon, salad, and delicious bread. I also decided to buy some cake as a treat for myself. So my hands are getting full (as I went to get some milk as well seeing that I had enough for a half a cup of it) and I waited for my bus to arrive, the amount of people on there was insane, there were so many people.Luckily I found a spot where a woman placed her groceries on the chair next to her. Sitting across from her, I did the same thing and both of us enjoyed the ride home. I learn my mistake last time: and that is to NEVER sit in the front, so I made it my business to always sit in the back. Hilariously enough, all the youth (up to ages 30 something) are in the back while orthodox and elderly were in the front.

Of course, that one old lady HAD to come to the back. Because the front was too empty (a handful of elderly folks were there). There was so much room in the front, that the lady (who was in her late 60's early 70's) had to shove my groceries onto my lap so she can sit. Not even in the back am I safe from the wrath of the walkers, the lady I sat across from gave me a "sucks to be you" look. As revenge, I got off early to made the old lady stand up and move. Giving her some exercise and what not.

April 23, 2012.
This is where I draw the line to the elderly (or as my mom gladly pointed out, bus riders), left work early so I could meet with my Ulpan group to watch live in theater "Fiddler on the Roof", so I was in a bit a time crunch and looking for the bus. When one of my buses arrived, I was trying to make my way through, but a sea of people came pouring out of the doors like fishes being free from a net. As such, the swarm pushed me a bit further away from the doors and more to the front where and old lady decided she was more important and the life of her fat-ass outweighed the needs of the youth...

...and shoved me to the front of the bus. 

Thank God the bus wasn't moving, otherwise I would've been a goner. But I had it with the old thinking they are the best and are stupidly rotten spoiled (like the kids, which I will get into), and the Israeli mentality officially pissed off the American in me, so I did the most patriotic thing imaginable:

I shoved her fat ass into the back of her bus she was running to*. 

I then climbed into the overly packed bus and made my way to the theater. The show must go on, after all. 

Being already in a pissed off state of mind, I got off at the wrong stop, a fifteen minute run but nothing too bad. I stopped for directions of any sorts when I came across to old ladies. Again, being pissed and nearly killing one not a few moments ago, I bit the bullet and asked if they knew where the theater was.

"Oh! You're going to see Fiddler on the Roof too?" One of them asked.
"Uh... yeah. You know where it is?" I replied
"Yes! We're actually on our way there now, come join us!" The second on piped in.

The walk there was pleasant as I chatted with the two older women. They figured that my sense of direction (not my accent) gave me away as someone not from Tel Aviv, so I replied that I was from Miami. "Ah, so you really AREN'T Tel Avivian!" one of them joked, they then proceeded to ask me what it's like and what on earth I was doing so far away from home. I explained (to the best of my abilities) what my program was about till we reached the stairs to the theater. I thanked them for the walk and both of them smiled and said "No problem, enjoy the show and your time in Israel."

Okay, so not all of the old people are asses. Just those riding the goddamn bus.

The Rules of the Bus
I mentioned this at one point on Facebook during my travels on the bus (in fact, you can almost be guarantee some form of shenanigans while I'm on the bus) but I have picked up on several unspoken rules on the bus.

1- The front belong to the elderly. Touch it, and be prepared to get the scolded stare the whole bus ride. 
2- Don't EVER go in front of the elderly when trying to get off the bus, because that's just being a dick. 
3- If you were in the front, get behind them, because they don't take to kindly to young whippersnappers who are ahead of them. 
4- Don't bother apologizing. You're going to fly, and crash, into every single person the moment the bus starts when trying to find a spot to sit.
5- There's a 99% chance that anyone who is on the phone is using a Nokia. The default ringtone is bound to go off.
6- On special occasions, you get to meet really interesting people on the bus e.g a Rabbi playing Angry Birds on his smart phone or an angry drunk that would put Rush Limbaugh to shame.

Unlike the elderly, I can't remember the exact dates but the stories I can tell from there... oh the stories...

The Drunk
It should be pointed out that the majority of the bus tales are usually spanned from to and from work, seeing as I usually walk everywhere when I'm in Tel Aviv. So during one of my trips back from work, I waited at my usual bus stop waiting for it to arrive with a bunch of other people when I noticed a few... interesting characters. One of them looked like a lost old man, another looked confused, and one was stumbling around and talking to them. I naturally chalked it up to the three knowing each other, otherwise how else would they all look terribly lost and confused? When the bus arrived, a bunch of us climbed aboard and swiped our cards to the bus, the only available spot on the bus was somewhere near the front, and a few sketchy places in the back, luckily there was only on old lady but she was no where near me. The stumbling man climbed up as well, tripping everywhere and proceeding to converse with the bus driver, I decided to tune him out because, again, I assumed that this guy was just a very, very, VERY talkative people-person. The bus started and the man flew in a stumbling manner to the back. I wish I was more observant earlier because I didn't know he was holding a bottle in his hand when I heard a couple of feet rushing towards where I was. I looked up (I was listening to my ipod) and noticed two girls quickly taking the two vacant seats in front of me and looking scared, so I naturally turned around to see why they did what they did, and noticed that the stumbling man was nothing short of a raging drunk, yelling at the two girls, and shortly after the remaining women in the back who followed suit shortly later to the front. With no women to yell at, the drunk proceeded to "sing" at the top of his lungs mizrachi music. If anyone out there knows me well enough, they know I can not STAND mizrachi music if only because it sounds like dying cats to me. On top of that he sung off key and as a drunk so the combination was less than stellar. Eventually we reached a bus stop and the drunk fell off the bus and we drove on, not talking at all about what transpired.

Fem Fatal
Again, on the bus on the way home listening to my music. We were a smaller group this time around, a handful of old people, two rabbis, a woman who looked disgruntled, a business man with slick back hair, some Tel Avivians, and myself. We were reaching at one of the many bus stops for people to climb up and on when the business man (who sat all the way in the back, three rows away from me) proceeded to climb down to get to his stop. With the bus being jerky enough as it was, he stumbled a bit and missed grabbing the bar and ended up grabbing the disgruntled woman's shoulder. He quickly apologized for his action but fell it on deaf ears as the woman proceeded to scream as loud as she can 

"YOU FUCKING TOUCHED ME! YOU WANT ME TO CALL THE COPS ON YOUR FUCKING PERVERTED ASS?! I'LL CALL THE COPS, GODDAMMIT I WILL!!" 

Everyone froze as we stared at the woman yelling and shouting, the bus driver quickly shut the doors so as no one can leave or enter and looked through the mirror to see what the commotion was about. I pitied the business man because he honestly had no idea what was going on, he whipped his arms up like how the police would force you to be and with eyes widen in confusion. He glanced around at all of us as to help him comprehend as to what the hell just happened. We all stared back on the same level of confusion. With the arms up, and keeping a good distance from her, he apologized: 
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause you such distress." the woman puffed and cruelly retorted with a pathetic "whatever" and crossed her arms, not even looking at the man who was giving a sincere apology he never had to do in the beginning. He looked at the bus driver who simply shrugged and opened the door, all of us knowing who was the real ass of the day. As he went through the door, he quickly turned around and calmly said the final word to the lady.

"I'm truly sorry, and have a wonderful day." 

Leisure Suit Pervert
About a few weeks ago, I was at my bus stop from work with a bag of drinks consisting of both milk and chocolate milk while drinking a small travel size version of ice coffee. I plugged in my headphones (you notice the running theme with me and buses, right?) and simply waited when I saw a man strolling up. I didn't pay much attention to him as I was drinking my ice coffee, but I did catch him glancing at what was in both my grocery bag and what I was holding. He proceeded to word something and staring at my direction so I pieced two and two together and realized he was talking to me. I paused my ipod and took off my headphones and asked him to repeat what he was saying.

"Which bus goes to the Ben Gorian Airport?" he asked, albeit very quietly that I had to ask him to repeat twice.
"Um... I'm not sure, but I'm pretty sure you can ask the bus driver?"
"Ah, you see I'm going to the airport." He repeated
"Yeeeeaaaahhh.... ask the bus driver, he should know." and with that, I put back my headphones and resumed listening to my music.

Again, his mouth was moving and he was looking at me. I sighed and gave up the attempt to listening to my music and once again took off my headphones. I asked him to repeat the question and he pointed at my grocery bag and asked if he can sit there. Not one to start up trouble for something silly, I moved my bag and allowed the man to sit. He stared at me for a few minutes while smiling (fun fact: I loathe when people stare at me, smiling, and not say anything for a long period of time) and dropped his Q&A act.

"I wanted to start a conversation with you." He said, still smiling and looking at me.
"Oh...kay...? Why?" Stupid move on my part.
"Because you're cute."

This threw me back a bit, seeing as I normally don't get called "cute" or any form of flattery from the opposite gender. Excluding my dad and male relatives in the family, no one has openly told me I was cute (except my ex, but that doesn't count). I thanked him for the compliment and honestly felt flattered by this, but what he said next removed the flattery feel to quickly defensive.

"Are you 18?" What. No one, and I mean, NO ONE ever simply asks if one is eighteen, usually you go around with "how old are you?"  or the gentleman's approach by NOT BRINGING UP ONE'S AGE. ESPECIALLY if they're females! I looked at him and very quickly, and angrily, I replied with a no, he brightens up and eagerly goes "SIXTEEN?!" wearing a Cheshire Cat smile. 

Fan-freaking-tastic. I'm dealing with a pervert. And not just any pervert. A pedophile, Just my luck.

With even more rage, but holding back all my anger, I say no, and it gets worse, cause he goes lower to the point of fourteen. When I told him he was no where near my age, he frowns and goes "thirty two?" I decided to be an ass and make the pervert keep guessing as I glanced around looking for people who are older and stronger should things go sour. I found two built guys roughly in their twenties and a mother with a child. Not bad, in case I need to scream. He finally guessed my age and went on to ask another question. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

I lied and said kinda yes.

His disgusting smile came back and he goes "Ah, but you said kinda. So you don't." I was quickly thinking of the description of a guy I know while mixing some traits of my dog when the bus finally showed up. I scowl and say I do have and made a mad dash to the two built guys and tried to hang around them as the pervert made his way closer to me. The doors open, I ran in, swiped my card and made it for a spot that was filled with people, leaving no room for the bastard to sit anywhere near me. When the bus began to movie, I looked to see that standing at the stop, and not in the bus, was the pervert. He wasn't riding the same bus I was. I sighed in relief, put on my headphones, and enjoyed the rest of the ride home.

The man was somewhere in his late thirties, early forties.

Fridays, 2012 - Tales Of A Wanderer

While there were plenty of activities regarding me and the group, I also like to have some "me" time. It should also be pointed out that up until now, I always seemed to find my weekends spent in Modi'in, which isn't a bad thing necessarily, but I wasn't getting the "full" experience that Tel Aviv had to offer me. Didn't help that everyone I knew told me to be spontaneous and to embrace the city. So how was it that I only spent two... maybe three weekends tops in Tel Aviv after being here for only a month and half is a mystery to me.

April 1 (3?), 2012
It was a Sunday afternoon after I was done from work when I was heading back to my bus stop. Routine being the same: Wake up, go to bus stop, go to work, flail, go to bus stop, head home. This was a procedure for almost a week and a half. Across from where I work is the Ayalon Mall (as stated previously in my journal about my journey to find the building) and I realized that up until now, I haven't even stepped foot in there. Which in itself was somewhat silly. Going with the "why the hell not" approach (a foreign concept to me, mind you) I showed my bag to the security and walked in. And it was packed. Christmas-like decorations hanging from the ceiling, people buzzing around to different stores, kids running around like lunatics. Yup. It's the mall. I wasn't really aiming to buy anything, I was merely walking around taking in the mall. I'm going to be living here for a few months, might as well know the mall like the back of my hand. I already knew that the malls of Israel were famous for having super markets in it, so it didn't take me long to find it, conveniently next to it was a super-pharm (the equivalent to a CVS in the States), but what made me the happiest was there being not one, but two book stores in the mall; something that made me upset that the mall back home decided to close down for yet another ridiculously expensive clothes store.

The thought hit me that I should look around for a movie theater, I mean... if there is a movie theater in the mall back home, there should be one here. It took me a while to realize that the escalator right in the beginning of the mall led to more floors. And not to more stores, rather, it was to an area of junk food, arcades (like... legit arcades, not the occasional game lying around in the lobby), and a giant play pen for kids to play around with. It looked like something straight out of the circus. It didn't surprise me that I saw yet another set of stairs and proceeded to climb up, curiosity being the one in charge at the moment. The smell of popcorn began to overwhelm me until I reached the top of the stairs.

The goal was achieved. I had found the movie theater.

I honestly had no idea how to react to this, as this was a much much neater layout compared to the one back home. I mean, yes, the second floor full of pre-movie activities and that in itself should have signaled me that this was an amazing theater, but the movie lobby itself was something else. My brother always mentioned that when going to the movies, it should be a special occasion, like you need to dress for it because you're about to go watch, experience, something out of this world. So when I see that there are cafe lounge chairs (the fancy kind you see in shows like Mad Men) and the lobby has a nice dim light to it, floor is clean, and tiled, and the posters hanging over the cashier cast a soft light... THIS was a sight to see. I didn't know what my face was doing, but I felt my my mouth slightly open. I took my ipod and quickly put it in reverse mode so I can take a picture and catch my expression. It basically captured how I felt in a good way.

The face of your tour guide through the Magical World of Israel

After taking in the sight, and chalking it up as a place to go for when I watch movies, I decided to head out. Of course... not before I grabbed myself a book and dinner.


Every Other Friday So Far

  

After my little escapade from the previous weeks, I decided that one weekend I'd stay in Tel Aviv. One weekend I got food poisoning (a story, while disgusting, I'll save for another journal entry), but the few hours before it kicked in, I went out with a bunch of people to find hummus and I can already tell that some of you out there are going "no sh*t you got food poisoning!" but do keep in mind that while I do speak Hebrew, have the Israeli citizenship, raised in an Israeli house, and have Israeli parents- I'm an idiot because of the fun fact that I was never raised in Israel (strike one). We grabbed some lunch at this hummus restaurant (strike two) when afterwards one of the people decided to... angrily proclaim that they wanted to be alone. And the proclamation wasn't told to anyone else. Just me. Taking the cue, I decided to ditch the group as a whole and venture off on my own. I'm twenty one, I'm not a kid anymore, and after being for two and a half years in a college that was on ghettoville, USA, I think I know how to handle myself. So I spent my day around the Artists' Alley. And ditching the group was easily the smartest move I've done thus far. It was a Friday, so naturally it was pack, but it also meant more street performers and artists for me to browse at. I knew some of the alley already because I was there every summer with my family and as stupid as this sounds, being an artist myself (at least, I'd like to think I'm one), it didn't feel in the slightest weird. I browsed the stands ranging from old Japanese comics turned wallets to custom made leather belts, all the way to cute flocks of sheep that looked like something straight out of Dr. Seuss. I passed a stand that were selling wooden instruments when a memory returned of a few summers ago when I was here.

I was with my mom in the summer when we passed a kiosk being watched over by an old man. He was selling an instrument called an ocarina, only these were special. These were special in a way that they were all clay made and shaped out to be in the form of animals.I was floored and fell in love with an elephant ocarina, and both me and my mom agreed to go back to it as soon as we were done strolling around (we usually spend a day in Tel Aviv for the Artists' Alley and then a restaurant before we left back to Rishon). Unfortunately, we forgot (but was totally made up when we ate at a restaurant where a celebrity was eating a few tables away from us) and the topic of the ocarina was never brought up again.

This was three years ago, so I couldn't help but ask present day the guy running the wooden instrument kiosk. He was also selling an ocarina but his was wooden, not the animal shaped on I fell in love with. Fortunately, he was really happy to help, saying the guy was a few streets down. I thanked him and let him know that if I couldn't find the guy, I'd come back to him (his stuff was really nice and I did take his instruments into consideration). After strolling around and passing many hand made items, I found him. I found the man from three years ago and his collection of animal ocarinas. I was grinning from ear to ear when I approached his stand and told him happily in Hebrew how I was so happy to find him again.

"I found you!"
"Oh, you did."
"I was looking forward to come back to your stand for almost three years now."
"Well, ha ha, I'm still here. Haven't left yet."

We had a pleasant conversation about ocarinas (he even showed me a trick or two) when I finally made my purchase. Unfortunately, the elephant sold out for a while now, but I found something else that caught my eye. It was small, simple, and had a minor shape of an alligator. When I asked the man what animal it was, he simply shrugged, gave a chuckle, and said he had no idea what animal it is, but it could be anything I want it to be. I thanked the man and walked away with my three years late ocarina. I felt a spring in my step when I heard a violin playing that reminded me of Pixar. I let my ears lead me when I came across a group of four standing with instruments in hand: One was playing the cello (or bass, please feel free to correct me), two playing Spanish guitars, and one of the with his violin. I stood around for a bit to take in the music, it was really ear pleasing that I couldn't help but record them. And of course, I gave them some money. I only give when I really feel like they deserve it.

                                                                               Amazing folk/jazz group

      

                                                 The Artist

I later left back for home as Shabbat came rolling in. For the next couple of weeks, (the few that I stayed in Tel Aviv), I spent my Fridays wandering around Tel Aviv, starting off always at the Artists' Alley but eventually I managed to spend a few of my Fridays looking for other restaurants to try out. Salads and Bars hardly count as "trying food" in my book and I like to explore in the morning where the majority of things are open. I'll get into food later with a different journal. So anyways, during one of my Fridays (the second Passover) I planned my day carefully. I already knew that things close early on Friday but because it was the second Passover, things were going to close extra early. I wandered around looking for a restaurant that was open (seeing as most of them were closed for Passover) when I came across the Disengoff Mall. I anyways needed to find a new pair of headphones, so what other place but the mall? I mean, Modi'in's mall was open during Passover eve, so it stands to reason that the mall here should be open as well.

I was horribly wrong.

Sure, they did let me in, but the sight of it was something straight out of a George A. Romano zombie flick. All the stores closed, floors completely empty of people, and 80's lite pop music playing and echoing throughout the deserted mall. I walked around trying to find anyone else, and I did. But there were only four of them, easily. Eventually I came across some stairs and decided to climb up, finding yet another movie theater, all those this one being less impressive than the one at Ayalon mall. After enough time listening to "Time Of Our Life", I decided to call it quits and head back home. Things were closing, and clearly I needed to leave. The weather was nice so the walk back wasn't bad, seeing as all the buses seemed to have vanished.

When I got home, I realized I liked Fridays. Not for Sabbatical reasons, but more for myself and traveling. Up until now I was going with groups, always being with someone, and always going to places I'd much rather not go. When wandering around by myself, I don't need to worry about the other person's entertainment, if their hungry and if so where should we go so they can have a good meal and within our budget. But when I'm on my own, I have to worry only for myself, and I get to go to places I would otherwise not go and eat whatever I want without even second guessing. So I officially declared Fridays as "Me Days" where I just go wherever my feet take me while listening to good music.

Just last week I managed to find a group of people standing and giving free hugs (something I really wanted for a while) as well as coming across a bunch of puppies. For breakfast I stopped by a cafe so I could have french toast with some coffee while reading a book, listening to a New Orleans-type jazz band. Eventually stopping by the mall (this time crazy full) and trying some homemade Dim Sum, Sweet Challah, and buying two awesome scarves. All of this at my own pace. I try to be as social as I can (and being stupidly bad at it, I should add), but being on my own for the day is fairly nice, especially when I have the whole morning/afternoon to myself.

Proof of my awesome Dim Sum.

March 19/ 25 - Present, 2012 - Office Space

We end that journal for a more upbeat one: My Internship.

Allow me to refresh your memory of my history: For two and a half years, I spent my time studying Game Art and Design, with the original goal of becoming a Computer Animation major being shot after being told that the position was not in my favor and I should go to that or Motion Design (Motion Design is basically advertisement and title cards you see in shows and movies), I withdrew in December 2011 after being unable to handle the massive amount of stress the college environment was providing me.

So I joined the program a month later for an internship. There wasn't a CA company looking for an internship, but one video game company was. And only one video game company answered my resume, and it was Sidekick. When I talked to my boss (who in the Skype picture looked like a mix of Tony Soprano and Kelsey Grammar) he said I would be doing (most likely) website design and QA. Eager that I signed up, I confirmed my position as an intern for his company.

March 19, 2012
It wasn't our official day to work but it was the day in the two week orientation to go spend the day (or an hour) at our work place, and to basically navigate through Ricky's poorly done instructions (example being one person tried to find the bus stop they were suppose to take, only to find out it wasn't there). Ricky then explained to each of us what time our meeting with our employers was and how to dress accordingly, seeing as mine was a video game company, casual clothes would be fine.

I tend to over-do things.

So after spending the day figuring out what to wear (only ending up wearing a blue tank top underneath a long sleeve white v-neck shirt, puma sneakers, pocket watch necklace, blue beanie, and my suspender pants) I set my alarm clock for 8:38 am after making a minor bet with my dad regarding how long it takes to get to work. He said an hour, and I thought roughly 40 minutes and my meeting being at 11. The morning of the interview I walked with London to the bus stop to which she continued onward (roughly 15 minutes on foot for her to get to work) and I waited by the Ulpan bus stop (hilariously enough, the same bus I take to Ulpan was the one I needed to take to get to work). All I knew, according to my mom, was that I should ask the bus driver if he could drop me off at either:

A- Sela Building
B- A street name I can't remember at the moment
C- Alayon Mall.

So when I went on the bus, I quickly asked the bus driver if he could drop me off at Sela.

"Slicha?"
"Sela? You know where that is?"
"No."
"Okay... [street name here]?"
"What language are you speaking?"
"...Hebrew."
"...Never heard of the street."

My patience was running a bit thin, I mean, the bus driver doesn't know the street name?! Either he's a moron, or I'm royally messing up the Hebrew language. And something told me the bus driver was being a moron. I sighed with annoyance and asked about the mall, to which he goes "Ahh yes! This I know!" in his obviously broken English. Swiped my card and went to find a spot. As I sat there watch buildings zoom by, I kept wondering exactly how far the place was. I checked my pocket watch and saw that the ten minutes become twenty. Then thirty. And it didn't help that each time the bus reached a city-like area, I was ready to get off, but not once did the announcer call out about Ayalon Mall. I saw the signs on the street kept aiming upwards so I only followed based on the sign. Luckily after five minutes, the announcement went off and I hopped off the bus. To a construction site. And a crapton of Rabbis.

Like a lost lamb (and on an adventure, as both Ricky and my mom said), I went to the nearest shopping plaza and tried to find the street name. I walked into a store and asked the clerk if she spoke English (just to double check for myself), she said barely, so I went with Hebrew. I asked for the street name (still thinking I was butchering the name) and she goes "Oh! Continue straight from here, make a left, and it's right there!"

Yup. Bus driver was an idiot.

I thanked the lady, wished her a good day and made off to her directions. And lo and behold, I found it.

Now, out of respect for the company, I can not and will not show or discuss any pictures of their on going projects. I'll slip every now and again, but they are usually, for the most part, pictures of my cubicle. Sorry in advance.

So anyways, I go into the building and ask which floor Sidekick was on, the guard tells me the first floor, so I hop into the elevator with a pregnant lady, a rabbi, and a mailman. Yes, it does sounds like an opening to a really bad joke. So I go to the first floor, doors open and the first thing I see is a giant clown.

On the floor.

Taking up the entire said floor.

I carefully walked around and made my way to a sign written in hebrew. It read Sidekick and no indication of an arrow, but it doesn't take one to piece two and two together when the only sign is on the left side leading to a hallway with one clear door.

Made my way in and was greeted by one of the people who worked there, Guy (my employer) was expecting me and had the door open. Walked in and everything clicked perfectly. And after showing me the tour of the area (the guy who greeted me was called Tal, the producer) and noticed something interesting about my work place. There was not a single girl working. All males, and I was the only girl there. Weird, but for some reason I felt like this could work, and speaking of it, I went straight into work, doing QA.

Little did I know that QA was not what I thought it was. When I asked Guy if I was going to be doing anything publicly, he smiled and said no, but I was doing QA for sure. For most people, QA is "Questions and Answers", so I was a bit shocked that I was going to be doing that. When Guy lead me to my cubicle, I looked at the laptop they handed me to browse around their website to get to know them more, I was met with another person working there, Elad. He's in charge of QA. So obviously I asked what in all that is holy is QA. 

"Quality Assistance."

"...Come again?"
"Basically, you'll be trying all of our games and such, and help us see if there are any problems like bugs-"
"...Bugs?"
"Yeah, in games. Basically you're a play tester."

So I wasn't doing any public relations work. I'm going to intern by playing games. All day. As well as fix the website, but that was briefly covered on my first day. I left my work at around 4:30 leaving a nice impression on the guys by showing them that I actually do play games and know how to respond accordingly (and occasionally throwing a gamer joke here and there) as well as feeling horribly sore. But I had a huge smile knowing that for five months this was my "job".

And I was a-okay with this.

Fast Forward To Present
So it has been roughly three weeks since my first day. And so far they were right, I've been playing two games over and over and over and over again finding bugs, timing the length of time it takes the game to load, throwing fits of rage when the game does some really stupid bug (and believe me, there were PLENTY). Most of the people on the team are nice, some are interesting characters in and of themselves, and others I'm still trying to understand how their minds work. One moment they are nice, and other moments they are getting really angry that it's impossible to get through to them. I also learned that in order to make a point with some, you HAVE to be angry and yell. It's aggravating to say the least, but it gets the work done.

I didn't just play games, I'm also in the midst of fixing up the website with a guy named Dan. He knows more of the technical aspects while I know more of the artistic parts, and both Guy and he left me the responsibility of handling both the website and Facebook. So when I'm not jumping around like a headless chicken, I'm on the internet. Not too shabby. I also wowed them over with a powerpoint presentation basically explaining why and how the website can be a million times better with using mostly pictures over words (showing them that using just pictures isn't out of the realm of possibilities) and completely impressed the two of them (Guy, CEO and Dan, Web Designer) that they complimented me. And for the first time since I left my college, I honestly did feel like I was on cloud 9, like I made someone proud, but mainly I made myself proud knowing that I was good at something.

Sure, some days I'm so tired I don't want to get out of bed, the hassle of bus aggravates me (which I will write a whole journal entry about) and I just want to veg out, but at the end of it all, I'm happy. I'm always smiling when I'm working there, and the people make it fun. I had never experienced a whole floor of people yelling "THIS IS SPARTA", the boss blasting "Ride of the Valkyries" right behind me while mindlessly playing with his phone, and swords. Swords EVERYWHERE.
















Oh yes, and I did meet one girl. Just. One. And she is in charge of complaints. I met her briefly and she spoke crazy fast that I looked like a deer in headlights in regards to what she had to say. But I think she caught on shortly afterwards, shook my hand, and left. So... that makes two girls in an office filled with about fifteen guys. Could be worse I imagine?

So basically, so far it's been an amazing experience. The idea that the company trusts me with handling their websites, listening to my input, and having a serious yet fun atmosphere is grand. These next few months will be an adventure, that much I know for sure.