I don’t believe in ghosts.
Just kidding. Do you think you know everything about how this intricate and crazy world works? If you do, then obviously you’re a ghost.
I had this weird incident in one of my offices, and the only explanation I have is that it was totally a ghost.
One of my many (million) jobs currently is working at this place called SHEKEL, which stands for something. You know what it stands for, obviously, so I don’t need to waste your time explaining it. …
The first day of work at any job is nerve-wracking. It’s like the first day at school, but you don’t get any breaks, or time to talk with your friends, or play that box game where you connect one dot at a time and then whenever you “get” a box you put your first initial in the box and go again. You know? Does anyone know what that game is called?
I don’t really have much to say about most of my first days at work (or school, for that matter) but I have this fun little anecdote swimming around…
Part 1: Bad Work Habits Don’t Get You Fired
You know what sucks? Becoming an adult. This includes joining the workforce, and going to interviews, and of course inevitably Getting Fired. I thankfully have not been fired from many jobs. Which is surprising, seeing how I was not a star employee in many places by any means. But you know what I learned? Getting fired could be the best fucking thing that could happen to your life.
I’m trying to ensure the candle stays lit.
It doesn’t really matter to you, though.
You’re just stuck in the ground.
It’s quiet in the graveyard.
But there are no birds. Just chirping
of some kind of beetle
that’s probably a pest of these stable evergreens.
It’s different every time I come here.
It’s heartbreaking all over again.
Today, I don’t feel like crying. I’m on
the verge. But again I’d be crying for me.
Your memories are not here. Here is only
the wind. The sadness. The choking.
I left a box of matches by your graveside.
You obviously know my whole story of how I adopted Mocha, my 5 kilo rabbit whom I’ve had for almost 5 years now. (If not, you can read that story here. But I need to share this story about my vet because it’s just so odd.
The best part of Israel (or the worst) is that it is such a small country that everybody knows everybody. I even saw this on the first day that I made Aliyah and I had to go to the Ministry of Interior to get the correct documents to be a citizen. For some reason…
earth. solidity that is the only
constant, sometimes. breathing
the scents, without the pollution, the pure
soil and heaviness that lifts the thoughts. opposites
balance: the feather-light
leaf alighting on a stone. in contact with
these, grabbing with empty fists, abate the
turmoil within the mind. I see my lost
students, who wish for a connection, or
peace, gathering bouquets. while I
rush, forward, intent on the end goal, a young
girl stops. she gathers lavender flower
petals in her open palms. a man barraged by
paranoia gathers wild rosemary
stalks. these gifts from the world are lovingly collected
and left, like prayers, for those in
search of together.
the inconvenience of terrorism
c’mon man I was just trying to sleep
the sirens are like, the worst alarm clocks. first,
because they do not wake me up at the time
that I need to. like damn, let me at least sleep till 7. what
the fuck kind of meeting would I have at 4 am? who even is awake
now? and second, just like, don’t kill people. it’s a
pretty simple choice. I duno if you watched New Girl, but
one time Jess is crying about something, and she’s like, really
hysterical, and then Coach just goes up to…
Moving to a new country in your 20’s is pretty sweet. You’re still young enough to be naïve, have plenty of enthusiasm for change and also have a healthy stock of idealism. Which will be quickly ushered away at the start of graduate school, but that’s fine.
The thing about moving away from your beloved family is that, well, nobody else is gonna be your mom and bug you to go to the dentist. Or if your a/c catches fire, you can’t just go hang out at mom and dad’s until the smell of smoke is clear from the building…
This piece comes with a trigger warning (TW) of rape and sexual assault.
fuck it. rape is such a triggering word for me.
I’ll avoid it, even when I’m talking about it. any words
connected to it bring me back to
heavy nights. to whispers and my octopus-twisted gut feeling
of no. I was just giving in to implications. I never stopped to think
of the sea, roaring within me. of the salt saying
no. the girl I met, after her rape, she was living in the room
next door to me. we were in college, and with that…
My Fake Boyfriend Tom
You know how you had imaginary friends when you were a kid? Well, that continued with me from middle school through high school with my boyfriend.
I named him Tom and he is from Kansas. Kansas was far enough away from Denver that nobody could look it up, and yet just close enough that some cute boy would come to Denver on vacation with his family and meet this shy, quiet girl in the park or whatever.
What city in Kansas, Alana?
I only knew Topeka (thanks to my 4th grade teacher Mrs. Wallis who taught…