Jerusalem of Trash

Holy Dirty Streets, Batman. What the fuck is happening in Jerusalem?!

The holy city is a mighty stinky this week due to a municipality workers strike, and as a part of that, a municipal sanitation workers’ strike.

The big green garbage bins, fondly referred to as “frogs” by Jerusalemites, are overflowing and their tadpoles and tadpole-mommas are overflowing too. I’m all for unionization but it’s all sorts of nasty up in the Holy City.

So we say no to a quiet, peaceful march for human rights, but we say yes to overflowing garbage bins? Oh, I see, we’re that kind of holy. Mayor Barkat claims the strike is an attempt to get two fired municipal workers suspected of  corruption back in their jobs. I say, two more corrupts assholes in that operation or two less- does it really matter? I mean the city is filled with fucking trash- and not just the trash sitting on the municipality council anymore, that was bad enough. Now it’s overflowing onto our streets. So we’re the kind of holy where political power struggles masked as fair-labor fights trump public health? OK, I get it now. I was confused before.

Because by my reasoning, it would be top priority to get garbage collectors back to work. Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing last week’s leftovers as I walk home from work. More than I like seeing it, I like smelling it for blocks. Yum.

What’s hysterical here is that the country is so hung up on the terrifying possibility that schools and daycare won’t open on-time due to striking. So, people have kids and  then they can’t fucking wait to get them out of the house, so much so that they don’t see the trash on the streets and what bothers them is that their kids might be home for a few more days this summer?! I love the irony! I can’t complain about your kids ruining my day because it’s insensitive, but you can and it’s a totally rational reason for national panic?! Back to school, back to school… not if the overflowing garbage frogs eat your kids, first!

Here’s my contribution to this situation: I’m not picking up my dog’s poop so long as he does in on grass. Here’s my reasoning:  Do you really want one more plastic bag of shit in the garbage? Even a bio-degradable bag is just adding to the stench of human and animal waste that is permeating Jerusalem’s holiness. So I leave the dog poo on the grass, where it can fertilize and give back to the earth. Plus, this way I don’t have to come into close contact with my pup’s poop. Win-Win!

Here are some ways to cut down on waste, while the city workers sleep the day away and watch daytime TV:

1. Go here to evaluate your personal waste basket
2. EPA love
3. Some suggestions on cutting down
4. More suggestions
5. Stop Procreation Now (Population Control. Don’t blame me. I didn’t write it. I just wish I did.)

With much love for sanitation workers, parents of stinky kids driving them nuts at home, and Leo Hickman, who has the balls to suggest population control as a real solution to our problems!

Now that is a holy, hot mess!

Nightlight

Last night I slept with the lights on for the first time in a long time.

In the wake of an attack on my community last night, when a shooter opened fire on the LGBT youth group in a Tel Aviv community center. The group leader and a group member were killed, others were wounded, hundreds, even thousands, were traumatized and saddened by the murders, injuries and brual homophobic assault.

I was in the car when I heard about it and I clenched my heart in shock, feeling as if my own family had been attacked. I felt like my own kids were shot at- and seeing how as I have no maternal yearnings or instincts, I’d classify this as a very strong reaction.

As I slowly come out of my own little closet of sorts, I reveal more and more on my blog: I have been working in various awesome jobs in the Jerusalem Open House, the J-city LGBT community center for over 2 years. It’s my home away from home… a little because I’m a workaholic but mostly because I love it there.

This attack, that I understand barely made international news, is a heinous beating on the safety and security of all the citizens of Israel. Now no one can blame Jerusalem, or religious differences and holy sites, or sexual acts, or questional behavior. This act, in cold blood and blind, ignorant hatred targeted growing children and the sweet young adults that wished to ease them comfortably into their teens, as comfortably and happily as possible.

In the Open House I have seen young people blossom and stretch their potential in the youth groups. I have seen roudy, musical, fun nights of Open House youth group activity turn just kids into young activists, compelling, caring community members, budding leaders and family members. I’ve seen them come out, get on stage and rock a drag show like its their job.

I love this community and I love our kids.

I reject bigotry and homophobia, violence and blind hatred.

I join the community, and all freedom loving people in mourning the senseless victims of last night’s attacks.

92 Days

Well, it’s done. I got my get- my divorce is finalized .

It’s over and I’m so relieved. It was a surprise- a pleasant one that got thrown together when the opportunity presented itself- and the quiet in my head is tangible. I think I actually saw the weight lift from my shoulders as he repeated the words after the rabbi in the rabanut.

To my surprise, the rabbis were sympathetic to my place in the unwanted relationship with an unstable man and they seemed to understand the urgency of this ceremony, allowing the arrangements to go on for hours, once the opportunity presented itself.

That having been said, the process in the rabbinic system is RIDICULOUS. The ceremony of divorce involved the man doing a lot of  ‘repeat after me’s and the woman doing a lot of ‘waiting outside so as not to worry my pretty little head over this big man business’. I spent the better part of the time in the hallway/waiting room. It’s mildly offensive. Also, I have not counted out the possibility that there was a game of circle jerk going on inside the courtroom while I waited outside during the “writing of the get”. I’m just saying, it’s possible. The sexual tension in that room was overwhelming!

At the very end, when they recalled that my ex was actually divorcing me and not the 9 bearded old men in the room, I stood up and did my part- no talking, no words, no voice- just catching a paper and walking to and from a door (that’s actually all true). As a part of the ‘repeat after me’s, my ex said the words that freed me from him and freed me for others. Thanks to no will of his own, while repeating after rabbi oldie mcoldberg, my ex acknowledged our divorce, my desire to get out and be free, out loud and in my general direction. It wasn’t heartfelt- it didn’t need to be- but it gave closure in retrospect. Somewhere, hidden deep in that nasty patriarchal world, I found something symbolic that only made that sweet day sweeter.

The rabbi informed me that it is now illegal for me to marry a Kohen- a Jewish man who is a descendant of the bibalical Aharon- and that it is illegal for me to get married within the next 92 days. So unfortunately for you, you will not be receiving a wedding invitation from me in the next 92 days- well, i guess 90 days now. Brilliant.

Thank god for the wisdom of… well, 90 year old Ashkenazi homo-erotic rabbis. Thank god for the strength and support of my friends and family. Thank god that part of my life is behind me.

Israeli Politi-Fuck

When I started out as a campus activist in 2001, I felt the need to defend Israel and make sure that Jewish students could feel proud to be associated with Israel and the Jewish community. I support Israel’s right to defend her citizens, when attacked, even though I don’t think that war accomplishes anything in terms of peace.

On campus, I did not want the claims of “Israel is an apartheid state” and “Zionism = racism” to label Jewish students. I also knew that those toxic, provocative slogans did nothing to serve Palestinian advocacy. Their type of criticism of Israel promoted more anti-Semitism than it did attention to an important issue. I got branded as a right extremist because I wasn’t afraid to wear an Israeli flag on my shoulders and protest a rally that I thought spread lies about my people and made Jewish students feel ashamed. But when graffiti  swastikas showed up on the Jewish Student Union building, my previously labeled “Zionist fascist” ass didn’t look so extreme anymore.

My past as an activists for Jewish students and Israel doesn’t mean I can’t criticize Israel. Now, working in an organization that teaches me more on a daily basis about co-existence and existing inequality than I could ever have learned on my own, and living, voting as an Israeli, I know that as a responsible citizen, I must criticize Israel. Like this controversial NYT Op Ed suggests, I too love to “hate” Israel

I freakin’ warned you not to vote for Bibi!!

I freakin’ pleaded with you to vote for Tzipi, as a vote against Bibi!!

And now that many of you didn’t listen, Bibi appointed Avigdor Lieberman as foreign minister. Lieberman is a serious racist. He’s practically proud of how classically fascist he is. He is already advancing a seemingly pluralist but secretly homophobic civil marriage law that would override the legally recognized common-law marriage, a law ahead of its time, which grants those of us who do not want to get married, or cannot because they are same-sex couples the same rights as married couples. Lieberman will do away with that great political advancement, if he can, under the guise of a pluralist law.

Lieberman will do more damage than good (if he does any good at all)- I have no doubt about that. God forbid we get into another war, I don’t even want to know the things he will say when negotiating diplomatically to world leaders. And at a time when we need to keep our friends close and our ‘enemies’ closer, there could not be a worse non-diplomat than Lieberman.

To the good people at the Foreign Ministry: Good Luck! You’ll need it!

My public declaration on the current Israeli Politi-fuck we find ourselves in:

1. I want to go on record as saying that Lieberman does not represent us.
2. I want to go on record as saying I told you so about Bibi, we only got 21 women in the entire Knesset (120 members).
3. I want to go on record as furious that out of 30 ministers, only 2 of those positions are filled by women. Out of 7 deputy ministers, 3 are women.

So, ladies, is Bibi telling us that these female Members of Knesset (MKs), some of whom have been Knesset members for over 5 years, are not qualified to be ministers. Yet brand new MKs and Shas leaders with their fake academic degrees and faith in a hundred year old rabbi to help them make their decisions- they are qualified?! Or, is Bibi just the boys club circle-jerk leader I fucking told you he would be?

Oy. What a mess.

Quickie #5: memories of a diaspora Jewess

When I saw this video, (thanks to my hip Mom and her hip friends for sending it my way!) I just had to share it. It reminded me so much of growing up as a young Jewish woman in a secular world. I think this speaks to so many of us who know what it feels like to be totally American, totally Jewish and totally unapologetic.

Memories of my life altering trip to Poland when I was 16 and my identity as the granddaughter of Holocaust survivors are things I carry with me all the time. I take the responsibility of bearing second generation witness to these atrocities very seriously. My Jewish Polish family history includes victims, refugees, persecuted people and that deep knowledge courses through my veins as a social change professional and as a human being. But my Jewish American family history and present also includes matriarchs, determined, hard working, persevering, empowered women, feminist, strong men and women with strong voices. I think identifying as Jewish has made me the compassionate, diversity-loving, gringo activist I am.

I think this awesome poetress, Vanessa Hidary, might agree and I hope you do, too.

Besides, I love Def Poetry Jam and Mos Def is a serious dreamboat.

Enjoy!

my dry spell

It’s not what you think, pervs! I’m having an activist dry spell.

As International Women’s Day approaches, and the vomit rises in my throat while I think about how 51% of the population should not need a DAY, I feel a bit guilty. And though guilt runs both in my family and my ethnic heritage (Poland represent!), it’s an odd way for a feminist to feel about a day ear marked to recognize women. Even if it is a token Hallmark reminder of our oppression as the only majority ‘minority’, I still feel like I should be doing something, or taking part in some, and yet I’m inactive.

polish pride

I feel guilty this year because I think I’m going through an activist dry spell. I wanted to do something big this year. I wanted to organize the women of Jerusalem to overthrow the patriarchy in the Holy Land! I feel like I didn’t march enough, I didn’t make enough noise.

I don’t know if I’m too busy, haven’t found the right partners in crime, or just dealing with my divorce and bracing myself for the potential upcoming ‘fight’, but I haven’t been involved in much activism lately, and it feels like I’m on a weird hiatus of sorts.

I’ve done a little here and there, like the Jerusalem elections. My two inspirational places of employment keep me working around the clock for social change. Maybe this blog is even an effective way to reach people and preach about feminism, women’s rights, LGBT rights, sexual health and other causes I care about. But I can’t help but feel like something’s missing.

I have a few months to go before my first Rabbinic Court date. I assume that at this first court appearance I will either be “granted a divorce” by my husband (hold down vomit now) or refused one. At that point maybe I will either breathe a sign of relief and be mentally freed to think about larger struggles and my part in them– or  I will be looking at waging my own war against a national rabbinic system taking away women’s voices and power on the issue of divorce in Israel.

Either way, I imagine my dry spell will run its course, as they always do, and my ass will be back hittin’ the streets in no time…

Quickie #3: Drivin’ Me Crazy

Israeli drivers, you are completely out of control.

You turn every traffic circle (kikar, roundabout, whatever) into a death trip around the block. You drive like speedy, fearless daredevils in the pouring rain. You honk when there is nothing but traffic for miles and miles and nowhere to go.

You blatantly ignore crosswalks, red lights and stop signs. And yet when the news reports tell us that in January 2009 along there were 2,235 casualties in 1,232 road accidents, you sigh and mumble something about loss of life on the road being a damn shame. But that number can be altered dramatically by 2 things:

1. Personal Responsibility: Every single person needs to realize that their own aggression, distraction, lack of attentiveness on the road, can cost a life. I take driving very seriously; if misused, a car is a murder weapon and it’s as simple as assuming that level of responsibility.
   
2. Law Enforcement: If the morons incapable of taking personal responsibility were spending their lives in jail, or paying tens of thousands of shekels in fees for minor traffic infractions, this would prevent accidents and therefor deaths.
   

And to the burly, overbearing, swarthy Israeli ars-men (read: off-duty cops) who stand next to my car as I parallel park, obnoxiously telling me to turn the wheel, when and how much: SHUT THE FUCK UP. If I need your advice on parking, which I never in this godforsaken life will, I will ask. Do not force your unwanted man-advice in my unsuspected woman-face when all I want from you is silence. Keep on walking because, gever, I am the parallel parking QUEEN. My ass lived in New Brunswick, New Jersey and I parallel parked with the best of them, racking up RU/NB PD parking tickets like it was my job. So until you represent Jersey with your parking skills, back the fuck up.

I can’t complain about the parking on sidewalks. I love parking on sidewalks.

To all my civilized expat friend who drive like normal people: keep up the good fight! Drive defensively, don’t let them cut you off, drive you off the road and honk you into an early grave.

Bon Jovi is so dreamy and so cool

Pump up that Bon Jovi and ignore their blasting Eyal Golan (douche bag ars Israeli singer, picture below).

Show those arsim wankers how it’s done.

Here are some tips on driving in Israel.

Safe travels!

Breaking Hearts

Ahhh, Love. What a bitch.

I personally do not believe in ’till death do us part’ and the whole contracting a marital union by law thing, BUT, that being said, everyone has the right to make their own mistakes… er, I mean decisions.

Seriously, I do like the idea of love and I love that my friends- like my sporky lovers, B&E- are deciding to share their love with their friends and family and spend their lives together. But, as we are painfully aware, they have that right and many others of our friends, family and loved ones do not have- the right to marry. My friends are denied that in many countries and American states right on the basis of their sexual preference and that is just anti-democratic.That is some bullshit right there.

Cake! yum

Please, don't split up Ellen and Portia!

So I got this amazing video and letter from Becky. It’s a chance to be a part of the great fight against Prop 8, and for equal rights. We are not just talking about same-sex couples who wish to marry in California, we are talking about nation American precedent.

The recently passed Prop 8 will effectively divorce couples and families who want to be together. And as someone who knows the meaning of the word, it is not to be taken lightly, and it is not to be confused with an oppressive political action by a homophobic government afraid of more freedoms and more love.

When these families are torn apart legally and their rights to joint family insurance and equal coupling rights are taken away, please don’t be someone who did nothing because it doesn’t apply to you- Prop 8 offends and oppresses all of us. Do something now.

emoticon genderfuck

I’m not sure how much stranger you will think I am after this post, but here it goes…

You already know that I <3 chat. But am I the only who who feels like emoticons in chat do not represent me?

EMOTICONS IN CHAT:

1. smiley
2. sad face
3. sticking my tongue out at you face

Why don’t they really have hair? Why don’t they have eye brows? Maybe a uni-brow? Or a nose-ring. Or boobs…

There is all this technology making them have different shapes, colors, and some small details- like lips, so i can give you a chat kiss and wincing tears so you can know I’m crying (or joking about crying, depending on the context). But smileys do not convey gender- and depending how you look at it, this is either comforting or absent of something important.

On one hand, the genderless smiley allows a freedom that we don’t often have in person or in language; to be gender-anonymous, to not have to chose or identify as one or the other. Like when going into bathroom, I have to choose: bald with pants or skirt with no boobs. Confusing.

I’m not sure I’m either of those. But smileys, I only have one choice- the same choice as everyone else- and if there isn’t any difference between smileys, maybe there can’t be any preference or prejudice between them…

On the other hand, there are things I love about both gender (for me, being a woman) and other identifiers that personalize and identify me. I like my hair, for example, and when I go to the bathroom, I’d rather see a stick figure with boobs and love handles, like me. And when I smile at you over chat, I’d like to make some hair, maybe some nicely styled eyebrows and thin, yet lucious, lips. Is that so much to ask?

But more than my huge ego and wanting everything around me to reflect me (like you don’t! I’m the only one who says it out loud is all…), I want my oh-so-flexible and omnipresent technology to reflect what I believe to be a colorful, runny, messy spectrum of gender and sexuality. If technology and design really is as capable as it seems- and the people creating and writing it are really as talented as they are- then there should be a broader span of selections to chose from- in smileys and in our beloved Facebook as well…

Now, with Facebook, while I haven’t discovered emoticons, there is the silly issue of gender identification in the profile. In the profile edit options the first identifier is SEX. And no, “Yes, please” is not one of the options. So not only do they chose not to use the correct term, which is gender (I mean, I assume that no one is going to come ‘check under the hood’ to see if the answer was anatomically correct, so that would make it gender and not sex) but they also leave just the two old boring humdrum options- M and F.

And while doing that, they then offer the option to check off  “Show my sex in my profile”, dirty monkeys! While this “show my sex in my profile” option seems remotely perverted and somehow intended for an audience of pornstars and amature sex-tape makers, it’s not a bad attempt at doing some genderifically pluralist. And while I commend Facebook on their option of  checking of both men and women in the “I’m looking for” category, I dream of a day where we do away with dichotomies and give life a little more flavor and a litte less gender boundaries.

Just Say No to Bibi

Just when you think not voting is officially passe, here come lame-o Israelis.

I know, it’s hard to have faith in candidates when we have been so gruesomely disappointed in the past. And I know that when the senior citizens party teams up with the marijuana party leaders to form one list, this politics game becomes a joke (“so an old fart and a stoner walk into a bar…”).

Boo-fucking-Hoo

<– you, crying like a baby. and not voting.

If you don’t vote, then don’t complain when Bibi wins. Because when you don’t vote against him, that is, for anyone other than him, then you are voting for him. And he is the slimiest, greasiest, nastiest option out there. But believe me, there are arsim and jerks, and their imbecile children, who are waiting in line to vote for the devil himself.

Bibi becoming prime minister again would be like watching a non-stop marathon of bad re-runs. It won’t be like a rerun marathon of the Gilmore Girls (which would be pure joy!). It would be like a rerun of The Surreal Life. A rerun of flava flav and Brigitte Nielson making out and sexin’ it up- except you can’t turn it off because once Bibi is voted in again, it will be hard to get the image of him screwing the pooch out of your head– at least until the next time he runs.

Bibi, screwing the pooch.

So, vote for ganja-lovin’ granpappy, vote for Tzipi ’cause she’s hot, vote for young people because they represent you, or vote for Shas because they are disgusting, self riteous, women hating homophobes. Just don’t be one of those assholes who don’t vote. Just vote.

Me, telling you to vote. Really, I look like that. Seriously. I do.