I'm eating crackers and baba ghanoush in bed. One of my dorm/building-mates is going to get his hookah. Another one just asked if we were hungry (soon she'll learn she need not ask me, for I am always hungry) and said she's going to bring us all a delicious treat. A little earlier in the night, a friend from Russia poured us traditional three-layer vodka shots from St. Petersburg. Seriously, I love this life.
(Surprise! The delicious treat was Israeli ice cream cake!)
So things continue to go swimmingly here on my Mediterranean adventure. Thursday night (Israel's big night out, because Friday evening is Shabbat and Israelis work on Sundays) we went to an amazing nightclub overlooking the sea filled with many attractive people. Some friends of friends of friends got a table, and I felt cooler than I've felt in a long time. The clubs here are Meatpacking district meets South Beach (that's the trendy beach for rich people in Miami, no?) meets something else hip and Middle Eastern. I met a gorgeous blond-haired, blue-eyed German tourist at the club and we danced all night--until I decided that eating a shwarma was much more important than getting his number.
Everyone here is just so beautiful. And the drinks are priced accordingly. If I can't flirt my way to free drinks, I'm on the fast train to sobriety. A shot of vodka at one of these clubs costs more than my groceries for the week. But alas, to every problem there is a solution. Pregame! We drink Perfect Vodka. It tastes a little like nail polish remover, but at 30 shekels a bottle, I don't really have a choice. That's less than $10 for a liter of vodka. Perfect.
We party like rock stars and we party like poor college students. I'm trying to figure out the balance. It's a similar balance figuring out how to eat (out vs. in). And trying to date (out vs. in). Like rock stars, we're in bars and clubs full of incredibly good-looking Israelis. Like college kids, we fall victim to hall-cest. It's a slippery slope, but I'm trying to find that Perfect balance. You know, like the vodka?
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Friday, September 9, 2011
The Land of Men and Honey
I have arrived. In more ways than one.
First of all, Tel Aviv might be the greatest place on earth. I beach by day, go out at night, and in between I learn a little Hebrew (Ani gara be Tel Aviv: I live in Tel Aviv! Ani lomedet ivrit: I study Hebrew! I could go on all day...) So, life is pretty sweet overall.
Take today, for example. I woke up around noon (in the clothes I wore out last night. Second time that's happened this week) and decided I was a bit too hungover to start the day just yet. However, after an egg-hummus-pita breakfast, I was ready to face the world. Some friends and I went to the beach, and after a refreshing swim in the Mediterranean, I took an incredible nap in the sand. When I woke up, we all walked to the shuik (Tel Aviv's open-air market), where I bought the makings for a delicious Shabbat dinner. Did I mention I got ten cucumbers for 1 shekel? That's approximately 35 cents. Did I mention I love Tel Aviv?
Tonight's Shabbat dinner will be one of many meals I've prepared in our bedroom-cum-kitchen-cum-living room. And I thought the smallest kitchen I'd ever cook in was on 106th and Columbus... At least I'm becoming an expert on hot-plate meal preparation. So far I've made arroz con pollo, pasta with pesto and sauteed eggplant, chicken in white wine with peppers and onions, and countless fried eggs. For tonight's Shabbat dinner I'm going to make stir-fry with fresh vegetables from the shuik. Not quite traditional, but at least we've got a freshly baked Challah to serve on the side.
My beach-cook-get drunk schedule has made the transition to life in Israel relatively seamless. Who wouldn't want to be on a five month (80 degree and sunny) vacation? Still, I admit it's hard to be away from Evan. My flight to Israel got delayed because of the hurricane, so we got to spend three unexpected days together. I loved getting that extra time, but it made it even harder to say goodbye. So far, I think Evan and I are handling the situation well, given the constraints we're facing. We've been very low drama, very low anxiety. Maybe that's because I'm heavily intoxicated every time we talk. Damn time difference.
And yet, I would be lying if I said I didn't notice the men around me. My optimal schedule isn't the only thing making life so pleasant--the view doesn't hurt either. Israeli men are specimens. How is it possible that all the 20 to 30-year-old men in this country have golden skin and chiseled abs? Word on the street is that they love them some American girls. Last night, we weren't in the bar five minutes before my roommate had a beer bought for her by the nearest Israeli man. I'll drink to that!
First of all, Tel Aviv might be the greatest place on earth. I beach by day, go out at night, and in between I learn a little Hebrew (Ani gara be Tel Aviv: I live in Tel Aviv! Ani lomedet ivrit: I study Hebrew! I could go on all day...) So, life is pretty sweet overall.
Take today, for example. I woke up around noon (in the clothes I wore out last night. Second time that's happened this week) and decided I was a bit too hungover to start the day just yet. However, after an egg-hummus-pita breakfast, I was ready to face the world. Some friends and I went to the beach, and after a refreshing swim in the Mediterranean, I took an incredible nap in the sand. When I woke up, we all walked to the shuik (Tel Aviv's open-air market), where I bought the makings for a delicious Shabbat dinner. Did I mention I got ten cucumbers for 1 shekel? That's approximately 35 cents. Did I mention I love Tel Aviv?
Tonight's Shabbat dinner will be one of many meals I've prepared in our bedroom-cum-kitchen-cum-living room. And I thought the smallest kitchen I'd ever cook in was on 106th and Columbus... At least I'm becoming an expert on hot-plate meal preparation. So far I've made arroz con pollo, pasta with pesto and sauteed eggplant, chicken in white wine with peppers and onions, and countless fried eggs. For tonight's Shabbat dinner I'm going to make stir-fry with fresh vegetables from the shuik. Not quite traditional, but at least we've got a freshly baked Challah to serve on the side.
My beach-cook-get drunk schedule has made the transition to life in Israel relatively seamless. Who wouldn't want to be on a five month (80 degree and sunny) vacation? Still, I admit it's hard to be away from Evan. My flight to Israel got delayed because of the hurricane, so we got to spend three unexpected days together. I loved getting that extra time, but it made it even harder to say goodbye. So far, I think Evan and I are handling the situation well, given the constraints we're facing. We've been very low drama, very low anxiety. Maybe that's because I'm heavily intoxicated every time we talk. Damn time difference.
And yet, I would be lying if I said I didn't notice the men around me. My optimal schedule isn't the only thing making life so pleasant--the view doesn't hurt either. Israeli men are specimens. How is it possible that all the 20 to 30-year-old men in this country have golden skin and chiseled abs? Word on the street is that they love them some American girls. Last night, we weren't in the bar five minutes before my roommate had a beer bought for her by the nearest Israeli man. I'll drink to that!
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