h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Hi hun,
Can I ask you to mail me at your leisure?
Whenever you have a minute, ok?
wilmaneanderthal AT aol DOT com

W

*poke*

Just came here from the swimming pool (the PR thread ) what's up? Three days of.... who's been bugging you?

lemme at'em


W

Thanks, you're a sweetie. But it wont help. I'm mad at myself for doing something very stupid for a very stupid reason that caused someone to get hurt. (Please, no violence here!) I'm mad at my boss for changing the schedule so I have no swim time. She's even more maddening because she's one of those people who keep telling you that they're so reasonable and then when you try to reason with them they're like a brick wall.(Bumping her off might help, but I'm not sure.) And I'm just sick and worried over the violence in the Middle East. And in the small but irritating department, I may have a minor allergy to milk.

It hasn't been a lovely week. Therefore, I refuse to repeat it. I hope I'll learn from this mistake and never make it again; I'll grin and bear the new schedule because there's nothing else to do, and I'll try to forgive her real fast because I don't like being upset at people; nothing to do for the third except pray, and I'm praying; and I'll have to figure out how much dairy I can gulp down without breaking out.

Thanks. I needed that.

Can't help you with much of that but I can talk

Firstly, from what I have seen of you, you are a pretty special person and *newsflash* even speshul peeple screw up sometimes I am sorry you are hurting, but see the irony that it would not bother you if you was not speshul (have you said sorry? It helps, and gives the grieved party to scream at you, which is penance of sorts Hey, cafflicks and jews have a monopoly on guilt, don't we? )

Next time I see your boss, I'll kick her into next week for you, 'kay?

MidEast is a beast of its own making. It is nigh on making me crazy too. Don't watch the news, don't read the news. Just pray.

Dairy, I'm an expert on. Avoid it whenever you can. Yoghurts are ok, occasionally as are some cheeses, but not milk. Leave the milk alone (includes ) It will take a while to get used to but kid yourself you are going purely pareve... that's what I buy my lil if we're out and she fancies a treat.

Other than that, repeat this mantra:

I am Leo and I am well with myself

I did apologize. Twice, sorta. First my immediate superior went to take the blame, but after leaving her there for a half hour I couldn't take it anymore and went to explain that she was the wrong one to yell at. The big boss didn't like that either. (Yeah, kick her for me. Hard. We're not budding a relationship this week.) And when I went to apologize for "everything" later (I haven't cried in front of an audience since I was ten... until Wednesday) she gave me a patronizing lecture on character building and etiquette and called me a teenager. (I'm going to be twenty in less than two weeks!)

And then when she changed the schedule and I refused to talk to her the rest of the day she wonders why.

Yoghurts are ok? The one dairy product I don't for. Oh well, it's not so horrible I can't cheat occasionally.

Thanks, Ma.

I am Leo and I am well with myself - and others. (am am am am...)

Good girl.

*goes to hunt the hob-nailed boots out of the shed*

Analyzing your post. You missed your calling as a school psychologist or sumpin'. Lucky kids you've got. I thought they don't have kosher labels in Europe - inlcuding pareve?

That is eerie.. how d'you know? That was my calling - don't get me started on parents directing their kids' careers Oh, and be sure to tell my kids they're lucky When I get started, I get the 'look' and the 'shrug' and the 'wince' depending on where we're at in the 'severity of situation' scale

Oh, there's a bit of everything in London, kosher is very easy to find. When I first came here in the 70s, we could only find anything familiar in the Jewish delis. In 1992, I got married and we lived in North London... That is when Pareve was first explained to me. Now with lil I harrassed my local store to stock pareve goods, which they have started doing. So when I need something and don't have the time (or inclination) to make it for her, I know they have a limited range I can choose from.

You all sorted with the boss?

School psych wasn't practical enough for the parents, eh? What a tragic waste. If anyone argues with you about parents directing their kid's careers, add in my "yeah, she's right".

I guess that's American products sold in the UK, then? My London cousins showed me this little spiral-bound blue book they use when shopping that lists all the unlabelled European company kosher foods.

I think we're sorted out. At any rate, we smile at each other in the hall. Not like that means much from her - she can smile and be flexing her trigger finger, (how do people do that? I can't) but I'm fine.

Actually, to be fair to my dad, in the long term it has worked out. Can't run a building company with a psych degree but I don't think I'll be standing in the way of my kids' choices (I think )

Must be, I never checked. I'll have to take a look next time I pick something up.. I get rather odd looks at the checkouts sometimes, I must say

you have Nodnol cousins? I have Noo Yoik cousins... and Noo Joysee (some are here visiting at the mo), and VA, and PA, and TX, and.... just about all over, really

*zaps a boss-proof shield 'round Leo *

Oh yeah, and you lived happily ever after... Things tend to work out, but of course a lot would have been different if you'd've been a school psychologist, no? Hangit, I'm being cynical again.
I think my parents are quite good at striking a balance. They tell us that they have total confidence we can do whatever we want to, and let us decide, but if we chatter along about doing something totally idiotic they look very obviously worried, and if it looks like we might actually go ahead and try it, they give a little cough and mention all potential difficulties. The only time they ever got heavy handed was when my brother tried to buy a radio station with my father's credit card... or something like that. (He survived, did some stock-market dabbling, and now runs his own executive coaching company. My older sister does sub-assistant director work for American TV commercials during the winter and produces festivals in the UK during the summer. My other brother is in a rabbinic academy. Then there's me who isn't sure and a younger sister who intends to be an interior designer... There's a lot you can do without a business degree! Your kids will figure them all out themselves.)

What's nodnol? Oh wait, I see. Yeah, two families from the same great-uncle. I stayed by them when I did a weeklong London tour and acquired a severe distate for one of the families. It was mutual though. Think the enthusiastic nerd visiting the spoiled rich kid.

You have cousins in New Yawk? Fawmah home of the Dodgahs? Where did you get such a large and scattered family from? I thought you originated in Lebanon.

Yeah, I have great uncles along those lines

How'd I end up in a large scattered family? By being Lebanese, I guess My grandparents fled at the beginning of last century when the Turks, bless their cotton socks, besieged Mount Lebanon... My dad was born in Ghana. I have four older brothers and they live in Ghana, France, Nigeria, Texas My mum's one of eight and my dad the oldest of four. Their siblings live in Oz, Lebanon, Switzerland, London, Nigeria, *counts fingers* and New York I have first cousins in every corner of the world (even Jamaica Them's I gotta visit!) I used to dream that I was digging a hole in the ground and putting my foot in it (no, that's not it wait...) and then patting the ground down to plant my foot. Then I found my mountain man. Never had that dream again.

Undoubtedly, my life would have taken a totally different direction had I gone for the Psych degree (the thought of *not* sitting through all those stats lectures is blissful). But, you know what? It ain't so bad

So when you coming over to visit the spoiled brat cousins again?

Good gawd! Your folks just don't stop moving, do they? The thing about religious Jews is that they have to stick together, so movement is always slow and concentrated. None of my immediate (up to second cousin) relatives are anywhere as exciting as Jamaica or Ghana. Give it time... lots.

I can also thank the Turks for my location - but they weren't wearing cotton socks back then, were they? An Ataturk reform, no doubt. Bless his cotton socks, his trousers, and his bowler hat.

Visit the cousins? I'd rather spend the night in Heathrow counting ceiling tiles. Or throw myself upon the mercy of the local Chabad house. (The only reason cousin #1 wanted to get her driver's license [she flunked 7 times] was so she could drive her mother's convertible corvette) Besides, I've assured myself that I've seen everything necessary in London. If I touch down on that expensive isle again, it'll be to visit bonnie Scotland.

a little birthday gift for the non-teen... It is full of personal peace and conviction about future plans and ambitions (oh and a choice of at least three gorgeous guys )


W

Thank you!

And before I blow out the candles I'll wish for world peace and the fall of McDonalds.

You turned 20 twice? Quite a feat! How'd'you do that? Here's another seeing as your last birthday wish seems to be holding (no, not the McDonald's one )

http://www.ahmadinejad.ir/
He started his own blog... (awww, bless!)
Go get it

Happy 2nd 20th B'day, Leo.

Two calendars. Hebrew lunar b-day, and English solar b-day. I hope to one day acquire a Chinese b-day too. Birthdays are very conveneint.

*rips into present*

Oh it's perfect!

Except I couldn't read the blog. Does google translate from whatever language that is? (What *is* it?)

Hmmm, your internet censored? I can see it perfectly, it is Ahmadinejad's personal blog ( president of Iran...) and it is in English.

I thought it was supremely surreal and figured you would appreciate the irony involved The first post is about his childhood...

autobiography 2006/8/11
In the Name of God, the Most Merciful, the Most Compassionate

Oh Almighty God, please, we beg you to send us our Guardian- who You have promised us- soon and appoint us as His close companions.

During the era that nobility was a prestige and living in a city was perfection, I was born in a poor family in a remote village of Garmsar-approximately 90 kilometer east of Tehran. I was born fifteen years after Iran was invaded by foreign forces- in August of 1940- and the time that another puppet, named mohammad Reza – the son of Reza Mirpange- was set as a monarch in Iran. Since the extinct shah -Mohammad Reza- was supposed to take and enter Iran into western civilization slavishly, so many schemes were implemented that Iran becomes another market for the western ceremonial goods without any progress in the scientific field. Our Islamic culture would not allow such an infestation, and this was an impediment in front of shah and his foreign masters’ way. Thus, they decided to make this noble and tenacious culture weak gradually that Iran be attached strongly to the west as far as its economy, politics, and culture was concern. After the implementation of this policy and the unreal and outward of upswing, the villagers began to rush to the cities. Upon the enforcement of the land reform, the status of the villages became worst than the past and villagers for earning some breadcrumbs, they were deceived by the dazzling look and the misleading features of the cities and became suburban and lived in ghettos.
My family was also suffered in the village as others. After my birth -the fourth one in the family- my family was under more pressures ...


Written by Mahmood Ahmadinejad at 04:12