The Good Girl Gone Blog

Jerusalem in Photos December 31, 2009

On Tuesday, I grabbed a few hours by myself to take photos around Jerusalem of places that hold specific memories of my time here three years ago. I found the place where I got my nose pierced, as well as a few of my favorite coffee shops.

I took the time to photograph a bunch of different cats, as well as visit the store where I used to buy string for crocheting kippot. Interestingly, as I sat with my Nikon, trying to capture an image of a  stray kitten, a young man sat down next to me, curious about my camera and interested in sharing the many photos he'd taken on his cellphone.

We conversed for about an hour, both in Hebrew and English, about our photos, my family and his future plans to study homeopathic medicine. Though his English was not amazing, and my Hebrew was a bit rusty due to non-use in Boston, we still managed to carry on a highly intelligent conversation. To be honest with you, I was surprised that he got up to leave without asking for my number. Still, I'm excited to add a new memory to my list: the time I spent an hour chatting in Hebrish (Engbrew?) with a stranger.

Below are a few of my favorite photos of the day. To see the rest of the photos, and for some more detailed explanations, check out the flickr set.

 

Little Miss Aspring Photographer: Animal Edition November 18, 2009

From top: Little Dogs, Sadie, Peter and Stormy.

Today I felt like sharing some of my favorite animal photos. All of these cuties are mine, except for the little dogs in the first photo that I snapped the other day at A Bon Pan.

You can find all of these animal photos, plus some extra goodies on my new Flickr page (!!) Here's to taking more photos, getting over my people-pictures-phobia and learning by doing!

Oh and hey, if you're on Flickr- add me as a contact. I'd love to see what you're shooting!

Kitty Love August 21, 2009

Normally, I have nothing bad to say about my cats. They're cute, strangely comical and fun to play with. Well, today was an exception. Though my dad is out of town, I still trudged over to his house in my little Rav 4 with one mission: to see my pets.

It's strange how much I miss them when I'm in Boston. In fact, I don't even mind that Peter has a strange affinity for butterflies; that Stormy's breath smells like rotting dead things; that Misty will hit you with her paw until you pay attention to her; that Daisy barks her head off every time someone comes down the driveway; that Sugar hates everyone...it's not her fault she's old and has cat acne! (Yes, there is such thing as cat acne) I love my pets and Oreo is no exception.  When I saw him curled up next to the banister, I knew I had to take a photo. Thankfully, I've been reunited with my Nikon (!!) and I took a few great snaps, including this one:

It's a little blurry, but I actually really like it. He just looks so innocent!

It was only after I decided to pick up Oreo that I became less than enthralled with the feline species. I must have accidentally pulled on his fur, because the next thing I knew he was scratching the bejeezes out of my arm. As in blood, pain, flying fur, kitty screams and wait...was that...oh my gosh, it couldn't be. Yup, flakes of my skin attached to a clump of fur.

I dropped him as fast as I could, ran to the bathroom and doused my arm in hydrogen peroxide. It still hurts.  Fortunately, it's hard to stay mad at him because he's just so cute, but if I get rabies, I'm swearing off your entire species.

Maybe next time I should try cat massage... (Trust me, you're going to love this video, discovered via Mama Pop.) Please smack me in the face if I EVER become a cat lady.

Sunday Confessional: I hate butterflies August 09, 2009

Caution: if you read this post you might just start hating butterflies...don't say I didn't warn you.

You know how some people are afraid of bats? They can picture them swarming around them, hitting them in the face with their wings? That's sort of how I feel about butterflies. When an ex of mine surprised me and took me to a beautifully landscaped garden near his house, he couldn't quite understand why I wouldn't go to the butterfly observatory. I shuddered as I thought about all of those wings brushing near my face- being surrounded by flying caterpillars was not my idea of a romantic date.

I'm not sure if my initial dislike of butterflies stems from my irrational phobia of caterpillars or from my sister's hatred of them. (She once found (half) a butterfly in a head of lettuce and has been scared since.)

That's why I was baffled by my love of the "butterfly bush." I think it was on my last visit home that I noticed a new plant growing near my house. The blossoms were bright purple and absolutely beautiful, and attracted a whole bunch of Monarch Butterflies. Though I finally accepted the fact that I actually enjoyed watching butterflies flock to the purple blossoms, I have recently changed my mind:

You see, two days ago, I was minding my own business when I heard the light tinkling of Peewee (aka Peter)'s collar. I walked over to say hello to him, when I noticed he had something in his mouth. It was flat, yellow and OMG IT WAS A BUTTERFLY. I may have screamed a little bit, and immediately ran to my dad to ask for help.

"Daddy! Peter brought in a butterfly! Help. It's disgusting. Eww Daddy, make it go away!!!"

Clearly my father was not as disgusted as myself, because he continued continued to talk with the guy fixing our TV. As grossed out as I was, I followed the cat down the stairs- I was curious. Little did I know there would be pieces of  butterfly wing strewn across the carpet. I didn't even get as far as finding my cat before running up the stairs and INSISTING my dad get rid of the butterfly. (Yes, sometimes I'm a bit of a girly-girl, but we all have our moments. At least I'm not afraid of spiders!)

My stepmom finally came downstairs to see what was going on, and soon after emerged from the basement with a sad look on her face. The butterfly was miraculously still alive, although missing huge chunks of his wings, but even she couldn't save him. My dad eventually cleaned it up, but I'm still scarred. So scarred, that I thought I was hallucinating when I saw the cat with ANOTHER butterfly in his mouth the next day.

I've already told my father this, but as much as I love that beautiful butterfly bush, I think it has to go. We've seen Peewee hovering around it, just waiting to bring in another snack. I'm sorry P, as much as I hate butterflies, I would NEVER eat them. I know you're just following your cat instincts, but I will not encourage you: the butterfly bush must go!

Cat Disco April 06, 2009

I'm hopped up on caffeine, not enough food and stress. I've been in the computer lab for the past 3 hours trying to make a simple flash animation banner. Let me tell you, it's not simple. At all. Plus, there's a class in there right now, so I can't go back in  until 4, which means I'll have two hours to work before dinner with Chris.

Ok, I can do this. I am a technology/flash machine!

I'll leave you with these lovely pictures from my dad:

That's my cat, Oreo, chasing the lights from a disco ball.

Disco Cat.

Kitties are a girl's best friend March 25, 2009

I'm kind of obsessed with this little kitty that my aunt sent me. He kind of reminds me of Peewee, who I affectionately refer to as Peter. This little guy sits on my igoogle homepage and purrs and meows when I  pass my mouse over him.  I sort of want you to have one too.

Click here to add him to your igoogle!  Also, what should I name him? The first thing that came to my mind was "Spam."

Is this my fate? January 15, 2009

So i totally forgot to post this photo in my album from Canada. I thought it was just too funny....it's like they're drawn to me! Cat lady much?

Better late than never: a photo documentary January 04, 2009

Jenni just uploaded photos from my trip to Victoria onto Facebook. I "stole" some of them and made a blog album, complete with captions. You can find the album in the left-hand column of my blog homepage. Scroll down a bit- it's close to the bottom.

In other news, I just sat through a Ravens game with my dad.  No, we didn't go to Miami, but we did watch it in HD! Because my dad and I are both sick, it was great to just veg on the couch. I asked way too many questions and even put on my Ravens jersey. And guess what- they won! Woohoo! Thanks Joe, you're a star.

Peewee was not as ecstatic...

So after the game, my dad decided he needed to watch the other football game. I fell asleep and had a dream I was at the game and wanted to leave. Too much football, I guess...

 

My Canadian New Year January 01, 2009

So Jenni, Syd and I are curled up in Syd's bed right now recovering from a CRAZY New Year's eve. Here are some highlights:

1) Making non-Jews toast a "l'chaim" 

2) Getting down to BSB with Syd's girl friends.

3) Meeting a cute American boy. We discussed Obama, the demise of the Canadian government and the American flag. Oh yeah, he told me I could become his press secretary when he becomes president, and Jenni can become his Israeli ambassador.

4) Getting a new nickname: Bubbie. Apparently, I'm going to be a cute old lady who will NOT become a crazy cat lady. If a cute boy says it's true, then it must be!

5) Being told Jenni and I have beautiful blue eyes...and that we are gorgeous.

6) Meeting a Ben Stiller look-a-like, Syd's best friend, Adam. No joke, he could be his twin. Identical.

7) Missing the New Year's countdown and making our own two minutes later.

8) Being sad about not getting a New Year's kiss and kissing Jenni on the cheek. Who needs boys when you have your best girl friends?

9) Arguing with a frat boy who chose his frat brother over his girl best friend. This I will never understand.

10) What happens in Canada stays in Canada.

11) Trekking down the street  in the snow in search of a cab...it was dark, cold and we were wearing inappropriate footwear. 

12) Being rescued by a super nice cab driver and a drunk French Canadian couple.

13) Getting back to Syd's in one piece, curling up in a ball and falling asleep. I slept while they ate ramen. 

 ...and so concludes my Canadian adventure. I'll be back in Baltimore in less than 11 hours. My plans for this week definitely including seeing an actual American doctor, getting a pedicure and finding Sophie's prom dress.

I think it was a good week, eh? 

Canadian boys are just as dumb as their American counterparts December 31, 2008

As the year comes to an end, I'm still just as confused about the male population. Remember the guy from the club? As previously mentioned, we spent a good part of the night simply talking. He kept trying to get my number and asking me to add him as a facebook friend.

Despite my reservations, I added him the next day. Of course, just because I added him doesn't mean we automatically became "friends," I had to wait for him to accept my "friend request." When Jenni and I checked back later, we noticed he'd changed his picture to one that included a girl. And oh yeah, he'd rejected my request...

But wait, wasn't he the one who kept bugging me to keep in touch with him? Who does that- seriously!?

So of course, Jenni and I had to psycho-analyze his behavior. (Remember when I did the same thing with that Harvard guy?) Here's what we came up with with the help of some friends:

1) Even though he said he was single, he actually has a girlfriend. She probably went on his facebook, saw that an unfamiliar girl had friended him and went crazy. She denied the friend request and changed his profile picture. (Via Lynn and Jenni.)

2) He was probably just really drunk and didn't actually plan on staying in touch, or at least that's what Jay said. But honestly, that doesn't make any sense. It's not like adding someone on facebook means that you're married!

3) He goes to random cities and pulls this same schtick with different girls.

4) He legitimately doesn't remember me...which we find really hard to believe, because he seemed completely coherent...and honestly, right before he left, he repeated his name, first and last, and said add me on facebook.

Canadian boy = 0 points

G3B= 4 points. Or maybe 5, because I'm awesome and he makes no sense!

Oh faithful readers, are all boys like this? If so, maybe I should join a convent/actually become a crazy cat lady!