7 Years of Bad Luck????

So here I was, waltzing around all delighted that my apartment had finally come together. In the past few days, I bought a microwave and washing machine, and today I had a really nice picture put up on the long expanse of empty wall in my entry hallway.

All that's left to do is groom the garden, and that will be taken care of post-Pesach.

I was finally relaxing. The long and bitter odyssey of decorating the huge, empty expanse of my apartment appeared to be over - I had this actual thought ten minutes ago.

That all came literally CRASHING down. As I sat here typing up a blog entry for your enjoyment (about the fascinating topic of nuking a sweet potatoe in my new microwave - more on that to come in the next entry), suddenly I heard a great noise. I wondered if one of the light fixtures had fallen off and broken??

I rushed out to the hall and guess what?? My brand new picture (not a Van Gogh but I tagged this entry as such for sh*ts and giggles), that had been put up just hours ago, had fallen off the wall, taking the nails with it, and all the glass had broken into huge shards on the floor.

And there it currently sits. I just don't have the coy-ach (strength, as we say in Yiddish) to deal with the mess now.

And honestly, I'm upset. It's like the Heavens sent me a message: Don't get too comfortable.

To which I answer: Why not?? What is so wrong about wanting to have a sanctuary in the middle of a new, foreign, busy as heck city??

And does this mean that I am being punished for something?? I hate to go that route but I can't help but think that way. When dramatic things like this happen it's important to sit up and listen.

I need to go back and review my conduct over the past while - perhaps this is atoning for something. At least I wasn't under the picture when this happened.

Oy, all I can say is whatever. The gallery owner is coming to get the painting in order to fix it, since he was the one that put it up in the first place. I guess I'll have to sweep up the fricking glass. I just don't feel like doing it right now. Let my 7 years of bad luck sit on the floor for a while and think about what it did.

Apartment Hunt, Oh Apartment Hunt

"Apartment Hunt, Oh Apartment Hunt..." (sing to the tune of "Xmas Tree, Oh My Xmas Tree)

If you don't know the tune of this Xmas song then I forgive you, since a Jew has no business knowing it anyway. I can be forgiven since I lived in galus (as they say in the shtetl) for so long, but YOU should never have known from it (as Bubbe would say).

Anyhoo, the song was brought on by the insane "to'ing and fro'ing" I have been doing in order to find the right apartment. My sublet runs out on Feb. 15, necessitating that I move out on Feb. 14. (American Valentine's Day - how apropos - if cupid could shoot an arrow into the bashert apartment door I would be besotted 4ever.)

It's sad because I've become ever-so-attached to the apartment I'm subletting in the German Colony. It is an extremely charming one-bedroom straight out of a Van Gogh painting: blue pocket doors, fluttery curtains, wonderful outdoor space. (Sorry to disappoint but there is, however, no psychedelic Starry, Starry theme.)  I knew I would love it and it has thoroughly spoiled me in terms of finding something I like as much.

At this point I've looked at a whole variety of dwellings, and am finding Jerusalem real estate shockingly harder to deal with than in Manhattan. I almost took an amazingly priced 2-bedroom near the Arnona/Abu Tor neighborhood. However, it was out of the way and being that I will be working from home, it is of extreme importance that I be in close proximity to all of the most popular and fabulous coffee shops on Emek Refaim. I plan to swan on over there with my laptop a number of times a week so that I can be among people as I tap away.

In any case, I've learned that you really have to follow your heart in the apartment search and hopefully it will end soon, since I don't relish the idea of jumping from friend to friend again. (Please refer to entry: Pilates??? Beuller???)

So, I've tried not to let the search overwhelm me and have been occupying myself with a variety of pursuits. One of them is laundry. The washing machine/dryer combo in my sublet is one thing that is very non-Van-Goghesque - it's housed in a shed in the garden. (A garden! Imagine that in Manhattan! Ah, the ecstasy!) I've managed to thoroughly mangle the entire process and have been warring with the machines. First I couldn't open the door to put the clothes in. Then I couldn't shut it. Then I put the detergent in the wrong place (but boy, did it smell delicious!). Then I put the clothes in the dryer for a good 40 minutes and when I came back, they were still soaking wet. Perhaps all of this hullabaloo has something to do with the fact that the directions are in French.

On another note, as I was spacing out on the bus today (after congratulating myself for not falling on my butt), I thought about the following random things that I love about Israel:

-Electric teapots - Present in every Israeli home, these one-minute wonders have your water boiling before you've even dumped your oatmeal packet into your mug.

-Cafes - Israelis don't grab coffee and go. They hang out for hours and shoot the breeze. Truly, no one seems to work at all in this country since the cafes are always mobbed. Then again, they could be working 'from home' like me, tourists, or trust fund babies (lucky brats).

-The dramatic "CHHHH" sound in the Hebrew language - It just makes the words so pronounced. I'm so glad I learned to do it when I was but a young pupil.

-How the country is so small - Someone randomly emailed me on Facebook one day, then recognized me in town the next day.

-Greek salads - Israelis do such wonderful things with goat cheese.

Okay campers, off to do final battle with the laundry. G-dspeed!!!