Ah, books! But I hope no one throws any of THOSE into a recycling bin.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Sunday, July 10, 2005
Cosmic Vibes
Last week, I plugged my laptop computer in, as usual, to recharge the dead battery. Several hours later I came back to it, pushed the power button, and nothing happened. Nada. Black screen. Nothing lighting up. No power anywhere. Over the next day or so, I kept trying, and finally had to admit that something was very wrong. The computer was not responding at all. I called Tech Support in the US, and they had me do various things to test the battery, and finally determined that the AC Adaptor/power supply is broken. Since I bought the computer only 4 months ago, they sent me a new power supply in the mail (well, they sent it to my sister in California, who then sent it to me).
Meanwhile, there were certain files I really needed to access. I posted an ad on a listserve for English-speakers in Jerusalem, asking if there was anyone out there with a Dell Inspiron who would allow me to borrow their power supply just long enough to recharge my computer so I could email certain files to myself. I got a few responses. Among those was a woman just a 10-minute walk from me, who said "I'm going away for Shabbat, but my aunt and cousin will be here. Call my aunt on Friday, and arrange to pick up the power supply. Then bring it back after Shabbat." This was very nice and trusting of her, I must say!
Meanwhile, on Thursday night, I hosted a small seudat hodaya (Thanksgiving meal), for a few of my old, close friends from the US (Beth and Simcha, Ari and Sarah Beth, Chava, Yael) at a wonderful Italian meat place called Ragu. It was in honor of the fact that I'm out of debt, and in particular the nice windfall that came out of nowhere and allowed me to pay off all my loans. I was saying during the meal that I can't think of anything I've done in the past to deserve such a gift, so I'm making the seudah -- and hopefully will do other good things in my life -- so as to retroactively have deserved that financial windfall.
We also talked about my gratitude that I have just hit (yesterday) the 2nd anniversary of my immigration to Israel, and thank God, my life is going great. I've paid off my loans, my work is going well, I live in a nice apartment, have good friends here, and just started level vav (the 6th and highest level) in a once-a-week Hebrew-language program. Not bad. Not bad at all!
Well, all that thanking-of-Hashem must have sent out some interesting vibes into the universe, because strange things started happening. First, a man I went on a date with a few days before (and whom I'd liked), called me during the meal -- exactly on the night he'd said he would call. Then, remember that "guy who called" like, two or three weeks ago? Well, after that he flaked out on me for weeks -- but suddenly called now, during the seudah. (Since then, he's been flaking out again, just FYI. I think I'll stick with the first guy, the one who always calls when he says he'll call.)
When I got home from the seudah, there was an email from a childhood friend I've been looking for, on and off, since around 2002. We hadn't been in touch for 22 years. That day she'd Googled herself and found my ad on "Almost Met Jew," and wrote me an update of her life. There was also a rather more unfortunate email waiting for me after the seudah, from a former roommate letting me know that she'd just gotten divorced. Very dramatic things . . .
On Friday, I went to collect the power supply. I trudged through the oppressive heat and climbed up to the fourth floor, where I was met by the aunt and the cousin, only to find out that the power supply for the Inspiron 1600 has a different plug than the Inspiron 1150. The power supply was useless to me. Ugh! Since I was so hot and miserable, the aunt and cousin offered me a seat and cold water, and we talked.
We talked for 45 minutes. They were oddly open to me about the problems in their lives. I told them some stories about similar problems I've had in the past. I was learning interesting things about human nature from talking to them, and felt that I had something to offer in terms of adding a different perspective. During the conversation, I also recommended the "Understanding Yourself and Others" class to the aunt, who lives in the US. She carefully wrote down the URL for the class' website. Soon thereafter, I realized that Shabbat was in about 20 minutes, and ran home again through the heat.
On my way into the apartment, I was thinking "you know, it's really a bummer that their power supply isn't compatible with my computer. But I guess if the aunt takes UYO and feels better about those things going on in her life, then I was meant to go there today. Maybe Hashem arranged for my power supply to break so that I would end up meeting this woman who is in Israel from America."
Given all the strange things that had been happening, I also thought "Wouldn't it be weird if, now that I've fulfilled that job of telling the aunt about UYO, my power supply was working again? That would be nifty and spooky!"
So I plugged in the power supply to an outlet and to my computer, lifted the computer lid, and hit the power button.
And the computer sprang to life.
Last week, I plugged my laptop computer in, as usual, to recharge the dead battery. Several hours later I came back to it, pushed the power button, and nothing happened. Nada. Black screen. Nothing lighting up. No power anywhere. Over the next day or so, I kept trying, and finally had to admit that something was very wrong. The computer was not responding at all. I called Tech Support in the US, and they had me do various things to test the battery, and finally determined that the AC Adaptor/power supply is broken. Since I bought the computer only 4 months ago, they sent me a new power supply in the mail (well, they sent it to my sister in California, who then sent it to me).
Meanwhile, there were certain files I really needed to access. I posted an ad on a listserve for English-speakers in Jerusalem, asking if there was anyone out there with a Dell Inspiron who would allow me to borrow their power supply just long enough to recharge my computer so I could email certain files to myself. I got a few responses. Among those was a woman just a 10-minute walk from me, who said "I'm going away for Shabbat, but my aunt and cousin will be here. Call my aunt on Friday, and arrange to pick up the power supply. Then bring it back after Shabbat." This was very nice and trusting of her, I must say!
Meanwhile, on Thursday night, I hosted a small seudat hodaya (Thanksgiving meal), for a few of my old, close friends from the US (Beth and Simcha, Ari and Sarah Beth, Chava, Yael) at a wonderful Italian meat place called Ragu. It was in honor of the fact that I'm out of debt, and in particular the nice windfall that came out of nowhere and allowed me to pay off all my loans. I was saying during the meal that I can't think of anything I've done in the past to deserve such a gift, so I'm making the seudah -- and hopefully will do other good things in my life -- so as to retroactively have deserved that financial windfall.
We also talked about my gratitude that I have just hit (yesterday) the 2nd anniversary of my immigration to Israel, and thank God, my life is going great. I've paid off my loans, my work is going well, I live in a nice apartment, have good friends here, and just started level vav (the 6th and highest level) in a once-a-week Hebrew-language program. Not bad. Not bad at all!
Well, all that thanking-of-Hashem must have sent out some interesting vibes into the universe, because strange things started happening. First, a man I went on a date with a few days before (and whom I'd liked), called me during the meal -- exactly on the night he'd said he would call. Then, remember that "guy who called" like, two or three weeks ago? Well, after that he flaked out on me for weeks -- but suddenly called now, during the seudah. (Since then, he's been flaking out again, just FYI. I think I'll stick with the first guy, the one who always calls when he says he'll call.)
When I got home from the seudah, there was an email from a childhood friend I've been looking for, on and off, since around 2002. We hadn't been in touch for 22 years. That day she'd Googled herself and found my ad on "Almost Met Jew," and wrote me an update of her life. There was also a rather more unfortunate email waiting for me after the seudah, from a former roommate letting me know that she'd just gotten divorced. Very dramatic things . . .
On Friday, I went to collect the power supply. I trudged through the oppressive heat and climbed up to the fourth floor, where I was met by the aunt and the cousin, only to find out that the power supply for the Inspiron 1600 has a different plug than the Inspiron 1150. The power supply was useless to me. Ugh! Since I was so hot and miserable, the aunt and cousin offered me a seat and cold water, and we talked.
We talked for 45 minutes. They were oddly open to me about the problems in their lives. I told them some stories about similar problems I've had in the past. I was learning interesting things about human nature from talking to them, and felt that I had something to offer in terms of adding a different perspective. During the conversation, I also recommended the "Understanding Yourself and Others" class to the aunt, who lives in the US. She carefully wrote down the URL for the class' website. Soon thereafter, I realized that Shabbat was in about 20 minutes, and ran home again through the heat.
On my way into the apartment, I was thinking "you know, it's really a bummer that their power supply isn't compatible with my computer. But I guess if the aunt takes UYO and feels better about those things going on in her life, then I was meant to go there today. Maybe Hashem arranged for my power supply to break so that I would end up meeting this woman who is in Israel from America."
Given all the strange things that had been happening, I also thought "Wouldn't it be weird if, now that I've fulfilled that job of telling the aunt about UYO, my power supply was working again? That would be nifty and spooky!"
So I plugged in the power supply to an outlet and to my computer, lifted the computer lid, and hit the power button.
And the computer sprang to life.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
"What color is my bracelet?"
For those who haven't been reading the life-in-Israel blogs, or following the news . . . Israel is planning to "disengage" from Gaza in about 7 weeks. There have been a lot of protests against this move, by Israelis who for religious and/or security reasons think that it's a very bad - nay, a disasterous idea. The official color for the anti-disengagement movement is orange. Everywhere these days are people - most young people - wearing orange t-shirts; hanging orange ribbons from their backpacks, their belts, their car antennas; and posting orange signs saying "Jews don't expel Jews." There is also the ubiquitous orange bracelet, in the same style as the yellow "Live Strong" bracelets in the United States.
Eventually, those who were pro-disengagement had to choose a color of their own, and lately I've been seeing a few cars with blue ribbons waving from the antennas, and young people with blue and white streamers tied to their belts and backpacks. Not many - I do live in Jerusalem, after all, where the disengagement is immensely unpopular - but some.
The debate is heated and very emotional. People on both sides just can't understand how anyone could think the way the "others" think.
Here is the bracelet that I want: A band with interwoven orange and blue stripes or swirls, that says "Am echad im lev echad" - one nation with one heart.
As a religious person, I think that Hashem would rather see His children working together peacefully and with love for each other, even if we were doing something He didn't like, than to see us do the right thing while hurling insults at each other and nails under each others' cars.
We are arguing vociferously over whether cutting off our leg will save our heart. It behooves us to remember that no matter how passionately we disagree, that heart - our historic, familial, religious, spiritual, undefinable glue - beats for us all.
I don't know whether disengaging from Gaza is the right thing to do. Perhaps it is the proper way for us to show that we do our geopolitical hishtadlut - put in human effort- in this world, rather than rely on a miracle. Perhaps my friends are right; perhaps there really is a clear mandate from the Torah that we must hold onto this land. Perhaps the attacks from Palestinians will get worse afterward. Perhaps this is the biggest tragedy, the worst mistake, in the history of Israel. Perhaps lots of bad things. Or perhaps lots of good things. Or perhaps some of both.
But when I reach 120 years and stand in judgement before the Almighty, and He asks me "why didn't you work harder to show love for the land of Israel? Why did you stand idly by while your brothers made a monumental mistake?" I think I will feel comfortable answering: "Because I couldn't be sure whether they were really making a mistake, but I did know for sure that it's better for the Children of Israel to stand united behind a mistaken leader than to tear each other apart at the throats."
For those who haven't been reading the life-in-Israel blogs, or following the news . . . Israel is planning to "disengage" from Gaza in about 7 weeks. There have been a lot of protests against this move, by Israelis who for religious and/or security reasons think that it's a very bad - nay, a disasterous idea. The official color for the anti-disengagement movement is orange. Everywhere these days are people - most young people - wearing orange t-shirts; hanging orange ribbons from their backpacks, their belts, their car antennas; and posting orange signs saying "Jews don't expel Jews." There is also the ubiquitous orange bracelet, in the same style as the yellow "Live Strong" bracelets in the United States.
Eventually, those who were pro-disengagement had to choose a color of their own, and lately I've been seeing a few cars with blue ribbons waving from the antennas, and young people with blue and white streamers tied to their belts and backpacks. Not many - I do live in Jerusalem, after all, where the disengagement is immensely unpopular - but some.
The debate is heated and very emotional. People on both sides just can't understand how anyone could think the way the "others" think.
Here is the bracelet that I want: A band with interwoven orange and blue stripes or swirls, that says "Am echad im lev echad" - one nation with one heart.
As a religious person, I think that Hashem would rather see His children working together peacefully and with love for each other, even if we were doing something He didn't like, than to see us do the right thing while hurling insults at each other and nails under each others' cars.
We are arguing vociferously over whether cutting off our leg will save our heart. It behooves us to remember that no matter how passionately we disagree, that heart - our historic, familial, religious, spiritual, undefinable glue - beats for us all.
I don't know whether disengaging from Gaza is the right thing to do. Perhaps it is the proper way for us to show that we do our geopolitical hishtadlut - put in human effort- in this world, rather than rely on a miracle. Perhaps my friends are right; perhaps there really is a clear mandate from the Torah that we must hold onto this land. Perhaps the attacks from Palestinians will get worse afterward. Perhaps this is the biggest tragedy, the worst mistake, in the history of Israel. Perhaps lots of bad things. Or perhaps lots of good things. Or perhaps some of both.
But when I reach 120 years and stand in judgement before the Almighty, and He asks me "why didn't you work harder to show love for the land of Israel? Why did you stand idly by while your brothers made a monumental mistake?" I think I will feel comfortable answering: "Because I couldn't be sure whether they were really making a mistake, but I did know for sure that it's better for the Children of Israel to stand united behind a mistaken leader than to tear each other apart at the throats."
"My other son is a doctor . . . "
Mazal tov to my second cousin, Ron, of Petach Tikva, who just got his acceptance letter from the Medical School of the Technion in Haifa, Israel!
For those out of the loop, Israel has only 6 medical schools for all the many, many Jews who want to be doctors. Getting into one of them is not easy. Ah, my brilliant cousin! I see the smart genes run in the family . . .
Mazal tov to my second cousin, Ron, of Petach Tikva, who just got his acceptance letter from the Medical School of the Technion in Haifa, Israel!
For those out of the loop, Israel has only 6 medical schools for all the many, many Jews who want to be doctors. Getting into one of them is not easy. Ah, my brilliant cousin! I see the smart genes run in the family . . .
Monday, July 04, 2005
From the other side of the security fence . . .
A beautiful post at House of Joy. Beth is always so real. Even about the disengagment. Even though she's a "born again Jew" and a "religious fanatic" (her words, not mine, I promise) and lives on a yishuv in a place where most people of the world would not want to tread.
The last line in particular really speaks to me.
A beautiful post at House of Joy. Beth is always so real. Even about the disengagment. Even though she's a "born again Jew" and a "religious fanatic" (her words, not mine, I promise) and lives on a yishuv in a place where most people of the world would not want to tread.
The last line in particular really speaks to me.
The Blogger Article
Behold, the blogger article you have all been waiting for.
And, behold yet again!, for a first-person blogger account by the Esthertainment Channel.
Thanks to Esther, Esther, and Jewlicious for the links.
More posts to come very soon. I have several ideas bubbling just under the surface, about to boil over.
Behold, the blogger article you have all been waiting for.
And, behold yet again!, for a first-person blogger account by the Esthertainment Channel.
Thanks to Esther, Esther, and Jewlicious for the links.
More posts to come very soon. I have several ideas bubbling just under the surface, about to boil over.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Outrageous Genie in a Toxic Bottle Hits Me Baby One More Time
So, I haven't blogged for a few days, because the thing I really want to blog about is the disengagement, and my feelings/thoughts/opinions, and how confused and worried and upset I am on a lot of different levels, and yet still somewhat hopeful, how I'm so glad that Gesher has set up a tent near the central bus station in Jerusalem as a safe place to come and talk about it all this week starting each day at 10 am, and how as soon as I have a couple of hours free I'll go there to meet people and try to figure out what I think, and oh, by the way, for those of you in Israel, please be aware that tomorrow (Wednesday) there are going to be more protests against the disengagement all over the country, including people blocking roads and highways, so don't plan on going anywhere important in a hurry. I heard about it on the radio today.
In other words, I want to write something coherent and meaningful about a very serious issue, but I'm so mishkabobbled about it that I don't know where to start. Maybe soon.
But what I can tell you is that today I went to Tel Aviv to interview someone about whom I'm writing a profile, and it was a very nice lunch interview, but ran an hour longer than I expected. (By the way, it was in Tel Aviv today that I saw, for the first time ever, a poster supporting the disengagement. It said "Sharon, the country is with you." Across the street were two posters that said "Disengagement rewards terror" and "We support Gush Katif." I did see some orange ribbons, but nowhere near what we've got in Jerusalem. More about that another time.) I took a bus home, and on the way I suddenly knew that I am definitely going to be sick. The food at lunch had been a little too greasy for me, and the air conditioner in the bus wasn't working properly, so it was hot, and I could feel my seat vibrating hard from the effort the bus was making to cool itself, and of course the entrance to Jerusalem is very hilly and curvy. Motion sickness, people. Bad.
When I got off the bus, I sat on a bench to try to relax and not throw up, but some dude started smoking right in my face, so I got up again.
I won't bore you with all the tiny incremental ways that I got myself to feel better over the next few minutes. The point is, I was tired, dehydrated, nauseated, and stressed both about the amount of work I have to do and the disengagement, and not incidentally how much I want to write about the disengagement but don't know what to say. So what did I do? I did what any normal person would do. I went into Tower Records and bought a copy of Christina Aguilera's first album, and a Britney Spears greatest hits collection.
Because, you know, no matter where you live in the world, there is no problem that some bubble gum pop music can't solve.
PS I also bought an Ofra Haza album. I hope that redeems me.
PPS Will the person who has my double-CD "Best of Billie Holiday" album please return it to me?
So, I haven't blogged for a few days, because the thing I really want to blog about is the disengagement, and my feelings/thoughts/opinions, and how confused and worried and upset I am on a lot of different levels, and yet still somewhat hopeful, how I'm so glad that Gesher has set up a tent near the central bus station in Jerusalem as a safe place to come and talk about it all this week starting each day at 10 am, and how as soon as I have a couple of hours free I'll go there to meet people and try to figure out what I think, and oh, by the way, for those of you in Israel, please be aware that tomorrow (Wednesday) there are going to be more protests against the disengagement all over the country, including people blocking roads and highways, so don't plan on going anywhere important in a hurry. I heard about it on the radio today.
In other words, I want to write something coherent and meaningful about a very serious issue, but I'm so mishkabobbled about it that I don't know where to start. Maybe soon.
But what I can tell you is that today I went to Tel Aviv to interview someone about whom I'm writing a profile, and it was a very nice lunch interview, but ran an hour longer than I expected. (By the way, it was in Tel Aviv today that I saw, for the first time ever, a poster supporting the disengagement. It said "Sharon, the country is with you." Across the street were two posters that said "Disengagement rewards terror" and "We support Gush Katif." I did see some orange ribbons, but nowhere near what we've got in Jerusalem. More about that another time.) I took a bus home, and on the way I suddenly knew that I am definitely going to be sick. The food at lunch had been a little too greasy for me, and the air conditioner in the bus wasn't working properly, so it was hot, and I could feel my seat vibrating hard from the effort the bus was making to cool itself, and of course the entrance to Jerusalem is very hilly and curvy. Motion sickness, people. Bad.
When I got off the bus, I sat on a bench to try to relax and not throw up, but some dude started smoking right in my face, so I got up again.
I won't bore you with all the tiny incremental ways that I got myself to feel better over the next few minutes. The point is, I was tired, dehydrated, nauseated, and stressed both about the amount of work I have to do and the disengagement, and not incidentally how much I want to write about the disengagement but don't know what to say. So what did I do? I did what any normal person would do. I went into Tower Records and bought a copy of Christina Aguilera's first album, and a Britney Spears greatest hits collection.
Because, you know, no matter where you live in the world, there is no problem that some bubble gum pop music can't solve.
PS I also bought an Ofra Haza album. I hope that redeems me.
PPS Will the person who has my double-CD "Best of Billie Holiday" album please return it to me?
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
Chayyei Sarah's musical interlude, brought to you by Eurovision and the 1970's
I've been meaning to share these for a while, and now the time has come. No special reason, just "because."
1. Via Shimmy, who found it via Avraham Bronstein, here is a video of the 1979 performance by the German group Dschinghis Khan at Eurovision, which was held that year in Jerusalem. Something tells me that Mordechai Ben David's song "Yidden" may have been "inspired" (lifted) by this performance.
As Shimmy says, brace yourselves.
2. I got an email a few weeks ago alerting me to this very useful site (for those who can read Hebrew), which provides the lyrics to all those Israeli songs they sing at the Independence Day sing-alongs, which we immigrants don't know. The songs are split into categories such as "holidays," "wars," "songs from movies," "children's songs," etc. And here, they have the lyrics to every Israeli entrance at Eurovision from 1973-2005, and video clips for almost every one (links for the videos are in the paretheses, after the name of the artist).
My personal favorites are "Kahn" (1991), "Chai" (1983 - poor Ofra Haza. She was so beautiful), and "Hora" (1982). But if you do nothing else, you must - must I say - get out your platform shoes and click on "Abanibi" (1978). It's groovy, man.
I've been meaning to share these for a while, and now the time has come. No special reason, just "because."
1. Via Shimmy, who found it via Avraham Bronstein, here is a video of the 1979 performance by the German group Dschinghis Khan at Eurovision, which was held that year in Jerusalem. Something tells me that Mordechai Ben David's song "Yidden" may have been "inspired" (lifted) by this performance.
As Shimmy says, brace yourselves.
2. I got an email a few weeks ago alerting me to this very useful site (for those who can read Hebrew), which provides the lyrics to all those Israeli songs they sing at the Independence Day sing-alongs, which we immigrants don't know. The songs are split into categories such as "holidays," "wars," "songs from movies," "children's songs," etc. And here, they have the lyrics to every Israeli entrance at Eurovision from 1973-2005, and video clips for almost every one (links for the videos are in the paretheses, after the name of the artist).
My personal favorites are "Kahn" (1991), "Chai" (1983 - poor Ofra Haza. She was so beautiful), and "Hora" (1982). But if you do nothing else, you must - must I say - get out your platform shoes and click on "Abanibi" (1978). It's groovy, man.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
New website to help you find "the one that got away"
Via a forwarded e-mail from my friend Yael, here is a new site called Almost Met Jew, where you can find
a) the "one that got away" - you know, the cute girl who was sitting across from you on the 9 train, lookin' good in her Barnard sweatshirt and long jean skirt, but you didn't get up the nerve to talk to her, and then she got off at 59th street and you are still thinking about her three days later . . . or whatever
b) the long lost friend, members of your extended family tree, or whatever
I am totally going to use this to try to find the person who was my best friend in elementary school, until she moved to Texas and disappeared from my radar. I'm so curious to know what has become of her. I've tried Googling, superpages, calling people whose names sound like what I think was her father's name, etc, but no luck so far.
God, how romantic do you think it would be to read a "one that got away" posting and realize they are talking about you? That would make my day, totally.
Of course, the whole thing flies in the face of the "shidduch" system -- after all, the site is based on the idea that people will want to pursue relationships on the basis of what the other person looked like from afar (oh! the superficiality! horrors!) but given the trouble so many people are having, meeting their "basherts," it can't hurt to bring a little romance back into "the system" (or, rather, utter lack thereof).
It will be interesting to see, over time, how many people get responses from their "almost met" dreamboats, and of those who get responses, how many end up in long-term relationships. It seems to me that a lot of people, women especially, might be a bit off-put by the idea of responding to some anonymous guy who could, after all, be an axe murderer. And, very often the "one that got away" turns out to be a jerk, or a flake, or just a little bit strange.
But, you never know. The site offers a way to find out for sure, so that you don't spend the rest of your life kicking yourself for not getting someone's phone number when you had the chance.
Via a forwarded e-mail from my friend Yael, here is a new site called Almost Met Jew, where you can find
a) the "one that got away" - you know, the cute girl who was sitting across from you on the 9 train, lookin' good in her Barnard sweatshirt and long jean skirt, but you didn't get up the nerve to talk to her, and then she got off at 59th street and you are still thinking about her three days later . . . or whatever
b) the long lost friend, members of your extended family tree, or whatever
I am totally going to use this to try to find the person who was my best friend in elementary school, until she moved to Texas and disappeared from my radar. I'm so curious to know what has become of her. I've tried Googling, superpages, calling people whose names sound like what I think was her father's name, etc, but no luck so far.
God, how romantic do you think it would be to read a "one that got away" posting and realize they are talking about you? That would make my day, totally.
Of course, the whole thing flies in the face of the "shidduch" system -- after all, the site is based on the idea that people will want to pursue relationships on the basis of what the other person looked like from afar (oh! the superficiality! horrors!) but given the trouble so many people are having, meeting their "basherts," it can't hurt to bring a little romance back into "the system" (or, rather, utter lack thereof).
It will be interesting to see, over time, how many people get responses from their "almost met" dreamboats, and of those who get responses, how many end up in long-term relationships. It seems to me that a lot of people, women especially, might be a bit off-put by the idea of responding to some anonymous guy who could, after all, be an axe murderer. And, very often the "one that got away" turns out to be a jerk, or a flake, or just a little bit strange.
But, you never know. The site offers a way to find out for sure, so that you don't spend the rest of your life kicking yourself for not getting someone's phone number when you had the chance.
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