A Simple Story 2
Created | Updated Jul 11, 2003
Let's start with the body count. Life here goes on side by side with a weekly, usually daily, body count, and nobody seems to have got excited over it for years now. A seventeen-year-old was shot last week, just outside the community my Dad lives in, just 15 minutes before the aforementioned Dad drove past the same place, coming back from work. A nine-months pregnant woman died in a car accident between her car and a Palestinian car. Bombs are being discovered every few days, my ICQ isn't as full with hate messages as it used to be, but I still get some, just for living in Israel1. My Dad has a vest and a helmet in his car, just as a precaution when he drives to work. And still- life goes on. Untouched, I must add.
The two main events in my life this week were the birth of my new baby cousin, and my 24th birthday.
My cousin was born this Tuesday, at 1am, and is very serious and cute. He's been the hope of some of my family to continue the name 'Meyer', which is a most uncommon name for a Jew to have...
Personally, I don't get the fuss, but what do I know?
My birthday, on August 1st, seems to be going pretty much the usual way at the moment- I don't bother it, and it doesn't bother me. I'll have my best friend over for a feeling-sorry-for-myself beach campfire and, once we're done eating toasted marshmallows, that birthday will be officially considered as over and done with, just waiting for her birthday in two weeks, to continue the self-pity festival...
I do have two happy things to think of on my birthday though:
- Mike's coming over here really soon, and
- Vince has a new baby boy, named Michael, who was born on my birth date.
Is that a hint, you guys?
2
Which brings me to the last part of this week's column- Mike's coming here very soon, in two weeks or so. He's been working his as* off to get the money, and I'm really proud of him for doing that. I doubt if I would... I'd just ask for the money from my parents, or grandparents. But hey... each to their own way. So he's doing a slavery job for a slave's wages, but at least it's getting him somewhere... here!
I, on the other hand, have found a job as a secretary in our most successful tiles factory, which is going to be mine for about six months, and then... Who knows? And I'm taking a dead-boring office management course, so I'll have a decent governmental job when I grow up.
Ah... there's a mind teaser... am I ever going to grow up? By 24 I think I should be grown up, but I don't feel it. That's why I hate birthdays... I raise my expectations, find myself looking back at my life, and once again find that I haven't achieved anything much in them, and I haven't even bothered trying.
Am I making any sense???
