rappy: god, there should be a law in Israel disallowing the use of a car horn
heewig: *honk honk*
rappy: you need to live it to understand.
heewig: probably not
heewig: but it would piss me off I'm sure
rappy: I've started screaming at people at intersections who honk their cars with their windows open
rappy: "what the fuck are you honking at, bitch?"
rappy: I'm going to get shot one day
rappy: and I live right by a traffic light, so I'm constantly yelling at people out my window
heewig: maybe I WON'T visit you ;-)
rappy: can you just imagine me in 30 years with my flailing cane?
rappy: I'm already practicing
While snappy is still cooperating, I'm taking the opportunity to show off my new pad.
We start our tour at the front entrance, which opens onto a small foyer, leading into the various rooms.
In the foyer is this dresser...
Which I plan to refinish in a lavender shade. I've already got the paint stripper at the ready, and think I'll tackle the project sometime in the next couple of weeks. I'll need to get some sort of rug for this room, and some sort of coat rack arrangement.
To the right of the entrance are the kitchen and bathroom, to the right and left, respectively.
Right at the entrance to my kitchen is the mankey washing machine that the last tenant left behind.
It may very well work, and the inside of it is sparkling clean, but the outside is so gross that I'm just waiting for someone with a little more strength than me to come over so that we can chuck it the hell out. Blech. Once it's gone, I'll move the fridge over to take it's place. I may turn it around so that the door faces the counter.
The kitchen has a window that opens with a view to the building entrance (the entrance isn't closed, so I get to look right out at the street whenever I'm at the stove.
The ceiling in the apartment is very high, and those upper shelves are very tall. I haven't quite gotten around to cleaning them, so right now all of my pantry items are stored in the cabinet to the left of the dishes. On the counter to the right of the sink is a fairly spacious toaster oven. As soon as I get to Ikea and get this service cart, it'll be moving over to the cart to free up much needed counter space. There's also a massive old microwave which is currently in my living room which will be going on said cart. Hopefully they'll both fit on one cart. I may actually get two carts and place them side by side. I plan on resurfacing the cart with tile to make it look a little more unique.
The bathroom is long and narrow.
I'll be decorating it with lavender accents, including (if I can find one) a lavender shower curtain. I already have fairly specific plans on how to fix this room up. The towel rack is coming down, and I'll be putting up Ikea metal bars between the bath and the toilet to hang up towels.
I'll need to replace the mirror, which is just an ugly, plastic framed thing, and find a better storage solution for all the crap I currently have shoved in the nook under the window. Again, I already know what I plan to do there, with the help of my good friend Ikea. (Pronounced Ick-ey-a in Israel.)
The bedroom is tiny, with just enough room for my futon and a small space to walk in and out.
You can see the bed peeking out from the doorway, and it is pushed against all three walls. There isn't even room for a dresser in there, but I have a large closet on the balconey for my clothes. The door to the bedroom is a hideous brown accordion thing, which will remain open at all times, so as not to assault anyone's eyes. Whomever painted the room actually painted the window shut, so it's a rather airless little nook. I'll need to find a way to fix that. I have an idea for a "headboard" of sorts, but I'm holding off on it for now. It'll be something that Vern did on Trading Spaces, back when there was a normal designer on that "show".
To the left of the entrance is the living/dining room, which opens onto an enclosed balcony. The picture is rather dark, owning to the very bright sun shining in through the open shutters of the balcony.
The way the room is set up right now, is as a living room on the right side (if looking in from the foyer) and a dining room (which you'll have to imagine for now) on the left. I have my bookshelf along the wall that back on to the bedroom, and the sofa at a 90 degree angle to it.
There is a window over the sofa, and an airconditioning unit right next to the it. The AC is loud, but so far has kept me warm when it's been chilly. I'll have to wait for summer to see if it cools as well.
In front of the sofa is half of what will eventually be my coffee table. It's actually a tv stand that I got from a friend of a friend. He has another one that he's still using (until his renovation is complete), which I'll hopefully be getting once he's ready to get rid of it. You can't see it now, but the side facing the sofa is open, so I'll set them up back to back, and put magazines or maybe books in the spaces. I'm still debating whether to refinish them, as they are slightly beaten up. The sofa, by the way, is the fugliest thing you'll ever lay eyes on, and not particularly comfortable, either, but it's all I can afford for now (it was free).
As far as the dining room bit, there's a table that the landlady left (seen in the corner) but it's a stupid table. It's too low to sit at with a chair, and too high to sit at as a coffee table, so in short, it's the most useless table on the planet, but she listed it in the lease, so I can't really get rid of it. I'll be buying a table at Ikea, as well as (hopefully) a big carpet to go in the middle of the room.
The balcony is fairly spacious.
I plan to use it as an office in summer (the balcony is enclosed with shutters, but has no windows, so it's fairly cold in the other seasons), with a desk placed against the left wall. On the right wall is a large closet. The little chest in the middle matches the dresser in the foyer, and I plan to use it for my spare bedding. It *may* fit in the corner of my bedroom. I'll refinish it in lavender as well. There are bars along all of the windows, and the bars on the balcony are angled so that I can place planters on them. At the moment all I have there is my little herb planter (which has thyme, oregano, sage, and rosmary in it). I may put up a bunch of geraniums as well, to liven it up. I'm not a plant person, but the herbs look lonely out there when you approach the apartment from the street.
This armchair was given to me by the same person who gave me the dresser, chest, and coffee table.
It's been horribly molested by what I'm told is a lion-sized stinky cat (so told by the friend who introduced me to my benefactor). I'll need to reupholster it to make it presentable, but it really is a gorgeous piece of furniture. It apparently belonged to the guys' grandmother.
So there you have it. Now all I need is to find someone willing to drive me to Ikea and back.
As if mocking me, snappy has semi-snapped back to life. Not quite to full function, but I was able to take several pictures today. That's not to say that I'll be able to load them to my computer, but as they say: slay a cow, then rest. I shall see if it maintains power long enough tomorrow to load.
Please indulge me as I drown my sorrows...
I don't think that I appreciated the true tragedy of Snappy's death. I guess I was in shock, because it wasn't until yesterday that it hit me how horribly bereft I feel without it. Depressing me even more is the fact that I'm torn between just buying a new one (god help me, I'm thinking of buying the same camera, knowing full well that it may well break down for the exact same reason at any given time) right away, or waiting until I've saved up enough money to buy a digital SLR. Depressing me most is the fact that I barely have money to pay my rent right now, let alone even contemplate the idea of buying a camera.
I went to the VAT (Value Added Tax) office today, to reopen my business license. The translations I've been doing over the last six months have all been under the table, and due to this fact I haven't been able to charge the rates which I warrant at my level of skill. Anyway, I went back to reopen my file, and quite dreaded the thought, but braved on like the tough little soldier I am.
I actually called the place a couple of days ago, and found out that the city I now live in is no longer served by the particular office that's, you know, in the city. The office in my city only services other cities, and I would have to go to a whole OTHER city to register. (Italics for emphasis of stupidity, not distance.) The woman I spoke with on the phone said that since my previous address was in the older city that is serviced by the local place, and since that is the address on my ID, they would be able to help me anyway. She happened to be the director of the office, so I felt confident that she wasn't feeding me lines.
So I arrive at the office (which is a 5 minute walk from my house, and happens to be just on my way to the cafe), fill out the appropriate form, which lists my current address (as the kind lady above had instructed me to do when we spoke), and approach The Clerk.
The conversation went something like this:
Rappy: Good morning. I've come to reopen my file. I was told by [office director] that I could take care of this matter here, in spite of the fact that I live in [city].
The Clerk: I can't help you. You live in [city].
Rappy: Right. As I said, [office director] reviewed my file and said that I could be helped at this office.
The Clerk: You live in [city]. You'll have to go to the office in Tel Aviv.
Rappy: SIR! I HAVE ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT I SPOKE WITH [OFFICE DIRECTOR]. PERHAPS YOU'D LIKE TO CHECK WITH HER BEFORE YOU SEND ME OFF TO THE OTHER OFFICE.
The Clerk: But... (punches in my ID number into computer one. irritating. key. at. a. time.) It says here that your address is in [serviced city].
Rappy: Right. And that is the address on my ID. It is a valid address of a relative where I can receive mail.
The Clerk: Well... I can open the account with that address as the business address, and use your regular address as your mailing address.
The Clerk: (continues excruciatingly long process of keying my information into the computer one finger at a time.) Ok, I've opened it up for you. Would you like me to now change your address and transfer your file automatically to the other office?
Rappy: *sigh.* You mean JUST LIKE YOUR BOSS SAID YOU COULD TO BEGIN WITH?
Ok, that last part might have been in my head. This whole exchange (which will almost surely be repeated at the income tax office tomorrow) made me realize that the word "clerk" isn't so much a job title as it is a mentality. You're either a clerk or you aren't, no matter what you do in life. You could be a senior manager and still be a clerk, because clerking is in your head, not on your business card.
A Clerk is someone who cannot fart unless the procedure is authorized in company regulations, with 17 clauses as to the precise performance of said function. A Clerk is someone whose first answer is always: "WE can't", because a Clerk (note repeated use of capitalization) can never take ownership of anything. If he/she did, it would mean having to find that other brain cell to rub against the first in order to generate an independent thought, which frankly, is not a concept with which a Clerk is familiar.
I'm just glad that I'm starting to develop a thicker skin for this kind of idiocy and have started speaking up for myself. I'm really not a confrontational person, but living in this country, I've got no other choice. I've come a long way since the day I went to the Ministry of Interior to obtain my (legally required) ID card and went home in tears, after The Clerk yelled at me that I didn't need one.
My photography course, which started off exceptionally promising, finally and mercifully came to a close today.
I will admit to having learned some important stuff, and having really enjoyed working in the dark room.
I will NOT miss, however, the bumbling instructor, the crappy equipment, and the utter disorganization. I mean, 10 lessons and not ONE dedicated to the concept of composition? The fuck?
I kind of wish *I* could design that course, because it would kick all sorts of ass if I did. It would be TOTALLY structured, and entirely visual. Seriously, what good does speaking about depth of field do, if you don't actually SHOW me the difference between one depth and the next? And is it really that difficult to go out and take a few shots, and then throw them into a PowerPoint presentation? That annoyed me to. no. end.
But since it's not my course, I will take note of where not to take more courses, and move on. I am pleased that we get to use the dark room at our leisure any evening over the next month. Now I just need to get my camera cracking and take some pictures.
Speaking of cameras, who here owns a digital SLR? I need some opinions...
I've been tearing through the list, and already have 12 items marked off. The thirteenth (going to a play) will be completed on Saturday. Of course, there are a couple of things that I already know I won't be able to cross off, but I think I'll be able to complete most of the list by the deadline.
The list can be found on the left navigation bar.
in mourning the tragic loss of Snappy, who has decided it would snap no more. Apparently the Canon A70 comes with a built-in design flaw that makes it die right after the warranty expires. Damn you, E18 error! Damn you to hell!
I will say, however, that Snappy served me loyally for a year and a half, and up until its death, made me a very happy rappy. I am making no plans at the moment to replace it, due mainly to financial considerations. For the time being I'll get the film from my SLR camera developed on CD.
RIP, sweet Snappy. Rest in peace.