High Anxiety After a Return to the Bedoin Tent

I've officially become that which I hate more than anything else in the world (no Mom, I haven't become a Muslim (no, reader, I don't hate all Muslims- just Palestineans, Iranians, and the stubborn few Iraqis who just can't stop hating freedom)): a non-blogging blogger. Cyberspace is clogged with so much useless, redundant, non-pornographic idiot-spout that I'm truly ashamed of my stagnant Internet real estate which has been bereft of even the most purfunctory update for nearly two months. I feel like I've regarded my blog with the same attention and respect that Americans regard the Winter Olympics.

Begin digression here:

And can you think of anything more talked up but less cared about than the Olympics? Especially the Winter Olympics? I mean, countries spend millions of (insert your country's currency here)s to try to curry favor with the Olympic Selection Committee to get their city chosen, and then the "lucky" chosen city spends like a billion (again, insert appropriate currency here)s to ready itself for the influx of tourists and , of course, the luge competition. Okay, my Mom watches the figure skating, but does anyone watch anything else? What is the skeleton? The only reason I've heard of the event is because the coach is a drunk or a child molestor or something. And curling? In college a couple of friends and I wanted to start a club curling team, but once we read the rules and discovered alcohol, this plan went out the window pretty rapidly. Can you fathom that there are people in the world who train in this event? Winning the gold in curling is like winning the "Most Likely to Become a Podiatrist" award in High school. Do these "athletes" try to impress people at parties? "You know, I'm a world-class curler. No, it's the sport where we push the stone down the ice, then try to shave the ice just so it gets as close as possible to the bulls-eye... wait, where are you you going?" It's a travesty that these people are on television. It's like televising the shuffleboard championships at the Easy Pine Home for the Elderly, but without the hope of a broken hip adding some excitement to the action.

And I can say without any doubt in my mind that by the time the Olympics are over, one of the more important players on the Flyers will hurt himself badly, severely compromising any chance the Flyers might have had of winning the Stanley Cup. Peter Forsberg, I know you're a regular reader, so please take my advice and just come home. Your groin, along with all Flyers fans, will be tremendously grateful.

In other news, I just got back from staffing a ten-day Birthright trip which was preceded by three and a half days in the States. I didn't tell my folks I was coming home. They wept. It was awesome. Birthright was pretty great also. The group was a lot of fun, I was horribly ill for five days in the middle, and I fed an alpaca.

So now I've started back up with Ulpan in the mornings, it looks like I might do some office-type work for my Birthright tour operator, and I'm going to be doing some catering gigs also. Busy busy busy. Annie just went to the States for a ten-day trip, so I'll be keeping myself occupied (like the West Bank!) here doing things like watching movies, commentating on the Olympics in my blog, and resolving the Israeli-Palestinean conflict.

And it's looking like I'll be coming home for good on the 28th of March. Philadelphia is the expected landing point, with some interesting opportunities still crystalizing. Ooh, mysterious.