so long, xanga…it’s been fun

after 5 and a half faithful years to xanga, i must announce that the time to move on has come.  i am a fan of tradition, but u must be a xanga member to reply to a xanga web post which is, well, limiting…

my new blogging home can be found here at wordpress.  thanks to ambreen for letting me steal her host site.

in homage to the mid 2003 (age 17) to end of 2008 (age 22) recordings of my life, i’ve done just about the dorkiest thing imaginable and have read my entire blog and compiled some of my favorite moments.  yes, it’s long…but i must say it was interesting to see how my life has come together after more than 5 years.

Wednesday, August 27, 2003

i would never write this stuff in my real journal.  no, my real journal is filled with girlish nonsense and anger over only writing girlish nonsense.  why do i write the things i’ll actually want to remember 20 years from now in this imaginary place called the internet instead of a tangible, durable object like a notebook?

Tuesday, November 25, 2003

Two female gymnastic champions (one being very distinguished) sit at the table next to me in ‘tech ed.’  Their bodies are a marvel….their muscles not exaggerated or chunky like that of some awkward, hulky body builder, instead making their presence subtly known through light and shadows or the slight movements of the body…not overly tough, but smooth, fluid, and strong.  Yeah…gymnists…like ballerinas, only buffer.

Tuesday, January 20, 2004

i got an unexpected dose of the remedy yesterday.  i know it was good for me, but boy, did it taste disgusting.  thick, heavy, disturbing…it felt harmful…and i suppse it was, in a very tempory way.  more importantly, it was for my benefit in the long run.  yes…maybe these increasing, but still rather minor doses will build a tolerance that i *hope* will make me strong enough for the coming cure.  in the meantime, they serve as reminders of that day, and how much more powerful the side effects of that medicine will be….

Monday, April 05, 2004

people keep complaining about the cold, windy weather, wondering when it’s going to feel like spring.  well, this morning i woke up with a stuffy nose and soar throat, coughing up green stuff.  feels like spring to me! 🙂

Monday, November 14, 2005

i love my life. i want to find more beauty and become passionate over it…i want to live a wild adventure…i want to be blessed with a life full of wealth in the unseen things…i want to continue to struggle and strive and never be satisfied, but be fulfilled in every moment…i want to wake up excited, living every day anticipating the glories that are sure to meet me…i want to never lose this mindset, keep living and keep dying…i want god to intoxicate me…and i say i want these things, but i really already have been given them…

how i could go on about the one who puts me to rest upon the surface of the water, drifting in peace…

i could lie and say i love art, but instead i’ll tell u what is truly dear to my heart. i love my dreams, and someday i will plant what i will eat, labor for and grow something…and then i will build up the earth in the land of my forefathers, my land, with the one i will love by my side.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

so, tell me, why do people do silly things like eat velveeta? the first ingredient in cheese sauce should not be water, and the second should not be canola oil…

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

suddenly i hear it, feel its jittery tempo’s forceful pressure against the walls, informing me that it has reason to believe its dependents are in dire need of its product…it rushes to deliver it to them, tho they have no intention of using it for whatever primitive purpose it misunderstood to be necessary. the rejected excess seeks a place to rest, manifesting itself as hot, thick, electric serum and slowly traveling in the direction of home. there it fuses with an unwelcomed imposter that has been lingering in the area for quite some time. only together can they engulf all weaker inhabitants, occupying their spaces in the form of a paralyzing buzz, a heavy static. but the second intruder tires quickly and leaves, either as a simple compound of four elements, or by being replaced with of one of the louder and more agreeable guests. the other is not strong enough to work alone, yet still willful enough to resist the host’s efforts to exile it. but the host knows the home to be secure…as the entire device is under the careful watch of its inventor, who could destroy all or any parts of it at the flick of a switch.

Monday, February 13, 2006

i love tu’bishvat. i love it. god is freakin AMAZING. did u see what he did? did u see? did u see what he gave to us? did u see the cool little machines he made especially for us? those colorful, interestingly textured objects, some round, some in bunches, some all wrapped up? edible nature. i love it! can u imagine god designing fruit? i mean honestly…we can design some pretty neat things, but a vegetable? imagine him thinking about how a banana will look, what it will feel like, what it will smell like and taste like…its texture and chemical composition and the way it reacts when heated and the vitamins it will give to our bodies. he’s so detailed! and he didn’t just give us one interesting, edible, beautiful object, but hundreds! thousands!!! his work is so beautiful, so glorious. ah. he loves us so much…look!!! just LOOK!!! oh i wish i knew exactly how to show my gratitude, my awe and appreciation…my love…they say u can bake love into your cake, i wonder if i could cook with awe.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

it’s so easy to destroy physical things. a single push could demolish a sculpture representing decades of work. it doesn’t take much fire to burn down an entire forest. a bug’s fate comes in the form of a pedestrian’s shoe. we can rip, shoot, smash, eat, explode a variety of physical things and beings, destroying them in seconds, so why is it impossible to kill the things of the heart?

Tuesday, February 21, 2006

you ease the knife in so slowly, so carefully. i commend you for your attention to detail, but must we stall so? i don’t mean to argue, you are the boss, afterall, but it’s taking an awful long time to make this kill. i thought the device to have fully penetrated several times, yet you always manage one more centimeter, especially at times the blade is assumed on its way out. will you not be satisfied until the entire tool exits through my back? have some mercy. oh, but you already do, and i will never cease to thank you for it.

at least i feel near you when we wrestle.

Sunday, March 05, 2006

i’m learning a lot about myself. (i bet you’re thinking, oh, here comes stupid online-journal sounding things.) those of you who knew me before college might remember a time when i refused to walk through a door that a male opened for me. now i have aquired a peace with and adoration for such behavior. i remember a girlfriend a bit older than me saying “i used to think just like you. you’ll change, just like i did.” i thought to myself, maybe you changed, but i’m not like that, you just didn’t see things how i see them…and, well, she was completely right. weird. strange. and wonderful. who ever thought ronit would appreciate chivalry? … friend saul thinks that since i like to wear skirts and other girly things, love to cook all day, and have babbled about my fascination with pregnancy, i need to marry a jewish lawyer so i can live the life of a housewife. i think that sounds terrible, not that i wouldn’t love to cook and be pregnant regularly…but…but…but u see…i can’t *just* be that…cuz…cuz i…well, i….
i want to be in the *movement*…i want to fight…though i don’t know quite what for…i feel like i’m running out of time or something. we’ll see what happens this summer.

Wednesday, March 15, 2006

today i recieved something i’d always had the right to. holding it in my hand was mezmorizing, bringing up thoughts of what the thing means, and what it means i am by possessing it. while most people only have one, i have two, the new one much more precious than the old. in it is an image of me, surrounded by symbols i can identify but not understand, yet i understand the significance of the object as a whole. i soon fell into the calmest state of happiness mixed with wonder, hope, and fear. it was mine…i really am…that’s really me…that’s part of who i am. inside is a box in which i need to sign my name, but i’m afraid i don’t know how to do that.

what does this MEAN? goodness. what happens next?

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

my eyelids shut as i type…what a beautiful little contraption the eyelid is. open and close. expose and hide. ma…beautiful..wonderful…ah…ok i’m going to go to sleep

Monday, March 27, 2006

cream is my favorite color. today at work i poured dozens of gallons of dairy beverages down the sink, a tedious job to most, one of beauty to me. peaceful and gorgeous…off-white silk streaming, rhythmically splashing, creating a delicate froth…and all this in a mop closet. at one point i was handed a bottle of blueberry juice, my heart beating excitedly in anticipation as i removed the cap, realeasing the berry’s subtle fragrance. as i tipped the container, deep purple transluscency destroyed my perfect creaminess, little dots smattering across the blank walls. delight. when i poured another quart of whole milk in, the hue became a soft lavender, airy and sweet. a carton-full of cream’s thinkness soon drowned the color, and once again i gazed at my current favorite hue: that so slightly off-white…that which was once pure, but has been masterfully tinted with golden light. glee.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

it’s not the dreams, it’s the brain debris that causes them…

how i love skirts, even though in the winter i am mistakenly assumed religious because of them (no, no, my friends; i happily dine with no kosher sign.) at one point i thought them to be more modest than pants, and i must admit they do cause it to be more difficult for an oggler to make out the shape of one’s rear end, but loose jeans are far less revealing than a very short skirt, making this standard is not completely true. perhaps their allure is in the way they cause me to believe that maybe if i don them, i will become increasingly lady-like, though i figured out long ago that this will never be fully so, leaving this reason with little validity. it’s just that they’re so flowy and light and pretty and girlie…well, not all skirts are girlie, and, in my humble opinion, men should certainly feel free wear manly skirts. in fact, i encourage it. anyway, one cannot twirl well in pants, but, then again, one cannot do a cartwheel or ride a bicycle in a skirt. biker shorts under a skirt?

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

It’s just that I’m so aching to serve tea and homemade baked things. And hang laundry on a clothesline in the sun while singing. And be understood when I explain why I am breatheless as I study an apple. And be extremely pregnant. And sort silverware. And what the heck is wrong with me? It’s like I overdosed on potpurri or something. Sheesh. I gotta get out of these ruffly skirts – they’re getting to my head

Thursday, April 27, 2006

i am extremely stuffed up. i can’t even breathe out of my nostrils or pronounce words correctly. but the worst part is that i can’t taste-all i sense is sweet, sour, bitter, etc, but no flavor. food has plenty of texture, but no dimension, no mingling of all the lovely nuances i have come to adore. and my head hurts, and i’m coughing, and i have to blow my nose every five seconds….

i want every flower in the world to DIE. u look so pretty, but i know what ur really all about…making me suffer…

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

ok, best thing about israel so far: they bottle up chocolate milk like sports drinks. (that means i can chug it all day and pretend it’s good for me.)

i’ve had 4 chocolate milks today. this can’t be good. or can it…? no, no it can’t.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

eight. it’s such a small number in comparison to the millions of lives this world has lost because of hate. yet these faceless brothers weighed more heavily on my heart than any picture or movie or description of the many gruesome tragedies i’ve learned about through the media. a mass slaughter is compelling, but lives piled up in a lump called a number is something i cannot easily fathom as human. eight i can count on my fingers. they were real people, as real as i am.

Thursday, July 27, 2006

american foie gras made its first appearance in the late 80’s, which i found out by reading an article published in the early 90’s about the israeli who pioneered the industry. the article also mentioned that in israel, skewered goose liver was supposedly a popular fast food that one could easily find in many grilled meat joints. so i thought, maybe i can’t have the real thing with my current budget, but at least i can try its less refined cousin. and i did, today. and i don’t get it. the stuff tastes like chopped chicken liver, you know, that grey-brown mushy stuff your bubbie made, or maybe you’ve seen in a kosher supermarket or deli, only without all the seasoning that masks its distinct dog-food flavor. ok, it’s not that bad. i could almost enjoy it if it wasn’t so soft, not soft like a nice tender piece of steak, soft like frosting. grainy frosting. yeah, like mealy, luke-warm meat frosting.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

an epic event in the history of ronit: tomorrow will be my seventh consecutive day of taking showers. that’s right. i usually take about 1/7 of that amount in a week, but mr. fredrick solomon’s house rules state that i must bathe daily. well, i guess it’s not so bad being clean. but, my dear friends, don’t be decevied into thinking i’m a changed woman; once i leave this lovely flat, it’s back to saving soap for special occassions.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

in that hour, we shared some sort of peculiar peace. all this week i attempted to explain it to others, how it could possibly be so when we all knew that once we exited the building it was back to the tensions of this special city. how it was peace when the entire time, in our heads and hearts there were the ideas that have, and would, if only they were expressed then, lead to the opposite. but at that time, those things didn’t matter……… i now i realize that it reminded me of something, something perfect. it reminded me of how things used to be, before i was aware of such things as israeli or arab, jew or gentile, perhaps before there was such a thing. perhaps before we were out of eden. i think…i think it felt like heaven.

but we’re not back in eden. sometimes we taste it, sometimes we see a glimpse, but we are not there yet. and, try as we may, we have sewn into this world an ancient yet active fabrication of evil that will simply not allow things to work as they once did, as they will someday. oh, that day…how i long for it, when we and our land will no longer be innately marred, when swords will be beaten into plowshares. until then, this world is quite a mess, upon mess upon mess. but let’s strive to impart upon each other what we can of what we know it shall be when something greater than our incapable selves takes over.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

i found some OK pancakes in israel :D. “is the maple syrup real?” i asked. of course, the waiter didn’t know what i meant. “i don’t know the difference…” he replied, as if i had implied that there was such thing as imaginary maple syrup.

Friday, January 26, 2007

did you ever think about it? think about what you are doing, right now.

crazy thing, this is. this blog is. this internet is. i’m by myself in reality, with some precious contraption hoisted upon my lap, moving my fingers tactfully across a series of little buttons, starring intently at a beaming metal slab…and it means something. my world has squared itself, yet is somehow contained within a parameter of a less than 12 by 14 inch plane, my brain interacting with its friend and its competition, this machine, by some sort of wireless connection. words which were carried by electricity across my synapses transmit through electricity across a set of cables, completely produced only in the form of light, never realized with physical essence, the weight carried by the non verbal communication of the past. yet our words hold the same sentiment as those in any of history’s diaries or physical letters, only have become a million times more public, equally as wasteful, so much less rare than they ever were, and therefore given up their right to any value. all this technology for the capability of creating an unfathomable mass of utterly dead, lost thoughts.

Friday, February 23, 2007

in the open market the other day, i chanced upon dusty, brown blobs that cost 300 shekels a unit. knowing these to be truffles, i immediately coughed up 20 shekels for a smaller than golf ball sized fungus, and excitedly made my way to the cheese shop. upon asking the cheese seller which of his products would make a fitting accompaniment to my little jewel, i pulled out the specimen to show him, not knowing the proper word in hebrew. this was the last i saw of it, as when i payed for my swiss imported cheese, my truffle was no where to be found. this was either a case of gourmet theft-a keen shopper noticed my prize and made it his own…or typical ronit absent mindedness-i somehow dropped it without realizing after which it was assumed trash, dusty as it was, and put in the appropriate container for such. so i went back to the spice shop and spent another 20 shekels, a small price to pay for the scrumptious meal i believed would follow, and started towards home. now, i had always heard that truffles are best eaten with more simple, uncomplicated companions so that their taste can be noticably enjoyed. martha stewart said she favored an unfussy dish of pasta with butter, black pepper, a good hard cheese, and shredded truffles. so i prepared something similar, expecting that musky aroma to be present in this almost ritualistic creation, but, as you can probably guess, it was plainly absent. this truffle hadn’t even the fragrance found in my moderately inexpensive trader joe’s truffle infused olive oil. it hadn’t even the strength of a regular mushroom. in fact, it hadn’t any taste at all. my biggest dissapointment since the let down of that not yet ripe d’anjou pear.

Saturday, March 10, 2007

share with you two recent thoughts:
1. how sweet occasional silence is. the temporary cessation of the dreariness that is often paired with our seemingly constant communication. to be alone, untroubled by the stresses of human interaction, with no need to don the disposition of keenly prepared sensitivity it requires. to experience peace with one’s self, with one’s god, in the precious stillness of solitude, is an peculiarly intimate experience.
2. it occurred to me how completely disassociated our feelings our from the reality of life and the behavior which is proper for us to exhibit. the other morning was deceivingly sunny, and i stepped out to walk to the bus ill-prepared, lacking a coat which would have somewhat shielded me from the cold. i immediately became embittered. my irritatedness turned into outright resentfulness, and i stormed my way to bus in a huffy, irate state, my fury further provoked at each hit of icy wind. these were feelings as authentic as any, as substantial as i’m certain my face must have suggested, as real as the pain when you fell of your tricycle, or the joy of your surprise birthday party. but, why? at the hand of whom was i offended? no one had wronged me, and i wasn’t even justified in anger toward myself as i had not made any terribly unwise decisions. it was simply weather. weather is supposed to be cold sometimes; there was no mistake in the situation, no maliciousness involved, no one to blame. yes, certainly no one to blame…so, at whom was i mad? and why? there is no answer. this rage of mine was nothing more than the outcome of an equation comprised of brain waves and genes and the influence of my environment and my past: a meaningless reaction. just a feeling. and feelings, most of which will indeed arrive, transform, then hide or die, though they are of tremendous strength, are completely powerless to influence a situation unless our choices capitulate. they do not dictate the actuality of a situation, nor should they control how we respond to one. we must walk despite the impassioned suggestions of our emotions, constantly curving them, reminding ourselves of unchanging truths rather than succumbing to fleeting and fluctuating inclinations.

Sunday, June 10, 2007

…..when i said something, i heard myself through the computer, realizing that the microphone was on as well. i proceeded to simply speak, recording and listening. honestly, i’ve never liked my speaking voice, always asking “do i really sound like that?” upon hearing a recording of myself. now i understand why.

oh! i can finally hear what i sound like in hebrew…

my babbling was not the most coherent thing i’ve ever uttered, as i most likely misused words, confused male and female, pronounced syllables incorrectly, talked slowly and unsteadily…but upon listening to what i had said, there was no mistaking: me. the most fitting sentences for ronit elisheva were those that resonated from my confused, weak tongue. somehow, i was more authentically myself when utilizing the language i was meant to speak, the language of my people, the one for which i know but a handful of words, than the one i happened to have used my whole life. english sounds like me, how can it not as it is emmitted from my very mouth, but my voice in stumbling hebrew brings out…i can’t explain it…my soul.

perhaps there is something to this jewish thing after all, that an unnatural tongue would sound so perfectly suitable though it is sloppily pronounced. i am a child of israel, intended to be so. it’s a bit weird, i know, but i’ve realized that i’m in the process of redeeming a somewhat lost identity, a forgotten yet essential part of who i am, of the blood that flows within me.

Friday, August 31, 2007

i shot and killed a man with my M-16 yesterday.

he was made out of cardboard.

sorry, buddy.

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

the heat is finally starting to calm down, at least in in this part of the country. arriving from the still muggy and blindingly bright tel hashomer afternoon to a cool, cloudy jerusalem dusk is the most savored part of my day. this land may be lacking in warm hued leaves at this season, which instead turn from dry green to rotton brown, but the air shares in that slightly harsh yet utterly enjoyable kick that signifies to me the start of autumn. in a way it’s a sort of spice, like those of season which i hope to add to hot cider and pumpkin ravioli and such. i suppose i’m unusual, but i find bright sunny days heavy and draining, much prefering the envigorating, brisk overcast evenings when i can bundle up in scarves and sip hot chocolate as i roam the streets. and if anyone wants to come over and sip some of that cocoa, which will probably be spiked with frangelico and topped with dollop of fresh whipped cream, they are welcomed…the moment we find an apartment to rent…which could be as late as december 1st, by then cold enough for two mugs, don’t you think?

Saturday, November 15, 2008

thursday i went to the wonderful word of mold, fungus, and other magically potent things. no, not a college freshman male’s bathroom, my favorite cheese store in the country. they claim to be the only israeli vender of italy’s oversized parmesean wheels of glee, and seem to carry most other cheeses i’ve ever heard of. ok, it may not quite compare to a savvy cheese shop in manhattan, or even the selection at your local whole foods, and the prices certainly don’t come within a mile of trader joe’s (oh, love, how i miss you so), but for the only democracy in the middle east, i’d say it’s a fine little find. i bought a slice of dutch VSOP and ate it on my way, thinking about the workers (which in my mind are female, age 40-55 and wear white aprons and triangle scarves on their head) who in 1995 must have poured the milk of that ended up becoming this specific chunk into vats which it would then age in for 13 years. wee ronit was age 10 when this cheese was born, and now when she is 23 it is savored and vanishes into her grateful digestive system within 15 minutes. i have no regrets about the incident. and i don’t regret the dutch existing either – they make luxurious cheeses like this beauty, cute shoes (i want authentic size 8.5/38 clogs for chanukah-mark my word i WILL wear them, they’re fate will not be that of tacky home decor), and in the experience of living with one, many are quite agreeable and tidy.

i’d really like to make my own cheese someday. i plan on having no less and no more than 2 goats in the hopefully not so distant future, which will provide me w/ fresh raw milk every day and once i learn the technique, some nice cheeses. i’d also like to grow heirloom tomatoes-sleek purple, squash shaped yellow, blobby asymmetrical red-which you are welcomed to join with me in eating, provided that you bring some wine or unique tea (i collect) and also assuming that these things will actually exist…

good golly that was long…and good job to whomever read it.   so, from now on, u can find me here at  for now it’s plain but i’ll eventually make it pretty.  tah tah!

ps: if anyone’s reaaaaaalllllyyyy bored and wants to read about the last 5.5 years of my life, here’s the link to my old blog

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2 Responses to “so long, xanga…it’s been fun”

  1. ambreenandphillip Says:

    yeah! you joined! 🙂 i like your post about cheese 🙂 and spring – it’s 12 degrees in our house! cold! and with the heater it’s only 14.7. still cold.

  2. Ilana Says:

    I hope it’s okay that I’m already blog-stalking you. 🙂

    The bit about “real” maple syrup made me crack up!! Keep blogging!

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