Chanukah Humpday

It just so happens that the humpday, or 5th night, of Chanukah falls on Christmas Day.

So to celebrate the 25th of December, I'd like to share one of my favorite Chanukah songs, Adam Sandler's "The Chanukah Song."

Whatever and wherever you're celebrating today, have a joyous occasion.

And if you're stranded at O'Hare, the cleanest bathrooms are in Terminal K.

Deck the Halls With Boughs of Challah

Like many Jews, my family had two sets of dishes.

Unlike many Jews, our second set was the Spode Christmas Tree collection.

Apparently, we couldn't see the Haaretz for the trees.

Oy, Caramba!

In case you're wondering what I want for Chanukah, add this to your list: the 1958 Irving Fields Trio album, Bagels and Bongos.

So, who's Irving Fields? Well, he's a 93-year-old pianist and lounge singer and the guy who wrote the YouTube theme song.

I mean, who wouldn't want an album of Jewish-inflected Latin jazz?

A Day Without Naked Lesbians

So this is the photo the San Diego NBC affiliate chose to use on its website as a teaser for the "A Day Without a Gay" story.

According to KNSD, the real story is "A Day Without Post-Coital Naked Lesbians."

From the Dept. of "What If..."

If the California school system added Intro to Gay Marriage into its required curriculum, this is how a quiz might look:

1. Your lesbian aunt and her partner of 25 years are getting married. An appropriate gift would be:

A. A gift certificate to L.L. Bean

B. Baccarat stemware

C. A Hitachi Magic Wand

D. A Subaru


2. Two bears (you should know what bears are by now) are planning their wedding. Choose the most likely main course for the rehearsal dinner:

A. Vegan casserole

B. Wild salmon, Swiss chard

C. Something with foam

D. Double cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes from In 'n' Out Burger


3. You arrive at a lesbian wedding and are unsure of where to sit - the bride's side or the other bride's side. To make your decision you:

A. Ask one of the ushers which bride is the top

B. Consider the side with the fewest exes of either bride

C. Avoid the drumming circle

D. Flip a coin

Got Milk?

Saw "Milk" yesterday. Took me back to my baby dyke days when we all wore flannel and had the same haircut.

I'd just moved to San Diego in 1978, and I vividly remember the No on 6 campaign and Milk's assassination. The parallels to what's going on now with Prop 8 are uncanny.

No Carb Left Behind

This year at Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for my health, my families, both bio and chosen, and for all the opportunities I've been given.

I'm also thankful that I won't be anywhere near an airport, shopping mall, grocery store or amusement park between now and Monday.

And, finally, I'm thankful that for the next few days "carb" is not a four-letter word.

Shake 'n Bake

It's not enough that we're in the midst of yet another fire-breathing Santa Ana. Now we get to feel the earth move, too.

What's next? Frogs? Locusts? Boils?

Saturday's March - The Money Shot

Source: San Diego Union Tribune

San Diego had the most participants of any march in California and across the U.S.

Police Estimate 25,000 at San Diego Equality March

It was overwhelming to be surrounded by so many people, gay and straight, who were marching for the same cause - equality for all.




Chris and Dan - married in June and together for 13 years - wore shirts that Chris designed (see previous post). And Chris donated his design to march organizers who printed it on many of the volunteers' t-shirts.





The whole day was exhilarating and emotional. I felt empowered and hopeful as I marched with friends and strangers.

But I have to throw in a little kvetch about the weather. Enough with the Santa Anas already! It was easily 475 degrees on that pavement. I felt like an out and proud woodfired pizza.

For more details and additional photos, visit Rex Wockner's blog.

EHFAR

Banner design: Christopher Dye

Everything happens for a reason.

Not everyone agrees with that theory, but it makes sense to me. For example, because Prop 8 passed, gay activism has been reborn.

Because Prop 8 passed, a 26-year-old Seattle woman created Join the Impact, a movement that has inspired worldwide protests against Prop 8 and other exclusionary, anti-gay laws.

Because Prop 8 passed, its aftermath has reached far beyond California. People who might never have gotten involved in political causes are joining together, gay and straight, to work for equal rights. There's new energy. Grass-roots movements are popping up everywhere.

Because Prop 8 passed, conversations about gay rights are happening in unlikely places. People who've never met a gay person are getting to know their gay neighbors. Closeted gays are rethinking their need to stay silent.

And that's why I believe Prop 8 passed for a reason.

Even if you don't believe in the EHFAR theory, you can't deny that sometimes our perceived insurmountable challenges yield amazing results.

National Protest Against Prop 8

More information here

Bittersweet Victory

It's hard to feel total election elation knowing that my home state of California - the so-called land of fruits and nuts - voted to take away the right of same-sex couples to marry. But we're not done yet; The issue is going back to court.

Looks like Sisyphus needs to get back to the gym.

A Great Miracle Happened Here

Finally, the dreidel lands on gimel.

I've Got Shpilkes in the Geneckteckessoink

I don't know about you, but I can't focus on anything today except the election. And I can't sit still, which is very difficult when I'm supposed to be deep into writing code and editing other people's grammar.

Plus, reading about all the voting glitches around the country is freaking me out.

No more caffeine pour moi.

Candlelight Rally Against Hate

Check out Rex Wockner's blog for photos of Nov. 1 No on 8 protest in Hillcrest (San Diego's gayborhood).

Yep, that's me - the big homo protester - in second photo.

Why I Never Win at Scrabble

Source: xkcd

Point, Counterpoint

Look who's behind the 8-ball now.

When Life Gives You Lemmings, Make Lemmingade

Listen to this ridiculous, scare tactic ad urging people to vote "yes" on Prop 8.

The little girl tells her mom that today in school she learned that a prince can marry a prince and that she can marry a princess.

Trust me, kid, you don't want to marry a princess. It's way more work than you realize.

Walk Softly and Carry a Big Sign

So I put a big "NO on 8" sign in my window on Monday. Friends have suggested I confront my neighbors, but I don't want to argue with them, I'd rather have an intelligent debate.

But their lifestyle is based on the Bible, and I'm sure they'd just use 5,000-year-old Leviticus 18:22 as the rationalization for their position on Prop 8.

It's like I'm a Mac and they're the Rosetta Stone.

8 = Hate

I live on the top floor of a duplex. My downstairs neighbors are a family of four: husband, wife, and two teenage sons. They run a small Christian school and are good and decent people.

But they hate me.

Well, not me in particular, but they hate gay people, or at least that's what the yard sign in front of our building tells me: "Yes on 8. Protect marriage."

This breaks my heart because we've had a very good relationship for the past year or so that I've lived here. We've had interesting discussions about religion, exchanged small gifts over the holidays, and have been there for each other during issues with the building.

But now we're on opposite sides of Proposition 8, the ballot measure that, if passed, will amend the California constitution to take away the right of same sex couples to legally marry.

My neighbors' "Yes on 8" yard sign went up while I was out of town this past week. Now I need to add one more task to the list of ten million things to do on my first day back. I'm going to find the biggest damn "No on 8" sign there is and place it in my front window.

Don't forget, my ancestors survived the original Philistines. We're used to kicking ignorant ass.

Schlepple off to Buffalo

This year I'll be spending Yom Kippur at my childhood temple in Buffalo. I have vivid memories of being in that sanctuary, squirming in my uncomfortable dress (we never wore pants to shul), and reciting the Al Cheyt, the prayer in which we ask G-d's forgiveness for a litany of sins.

Al cheyt shechatanu lefanecha b'ones uv'ratzon - For the sin we have committed against You by (fill in the blank).

At age five or six, it hadn't occurred to me to abuse power, slander someone, or commit many of the other sins on that list. But when my parents looked right at me as they recited the Al Cheyt, I began to truly understand the meaning of Jewish guilt.

So off I schlep to Buffalo, because there's nothing quite like atoning with Mom.

G'mar chatimah tova.

Wrapped in the Tallit of Tikkun Olam

Tikkun olam loosely translates to "repairing the world." Today, during Rosh Hashanah services, I experienced a profound sense of tikkun olam as our rabbi recited his sermon.

Rabbi Martin Lawson of San Diego's Temple Emanu-El is an extraordinary human being. Three years ago I had the pleasure of being part of one of his trips to Israel. Seeing Israel for the first time with someone like Rabbi Lawson makes it impossible not to fall in love with our feisty little Jewish homeland. I can't wait to go back.

But this sermon had nothing to do with Israel or even Judaism. It was about basic human rights. Rabbi Lawson spoke passionately about how Proposition 8 - the ballot measure that, if passed, will amend California's constitution to take away the rights of same-sex couples to legally marry - is a discriminatory measure borne of fear and ignorance.

He pointed out, with thunder in his voice, the importance of equal rights for all people - regardless of sexual orientation.

Temple Emanu-El has maybe a handful of GLBT members, but we're well represented. Our board president is a gay man, and three board members are lesbians. Still, I never expected this issue to be the topic of a Rosh Hashanah sermon.

Needless to say, I was in tears for most of the 30-minute talk.

And when I taste the apples dipped in honey at Rosh Hashanah dinner tonight, I'll savor the added sweetness of tikkun olam.

L'shana Tova Tikatevu

Today begins the Ten Days of Awe, that very thinky time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur where, as a Jew, I assess the past year and consider ways to improve myself.

To all my Jewish brothers and sisters, have a sweet and happy New Year and an easy fast.

In Search of a Low-Carb Tashlich

Okay, so I've sworn off bread because it's full of Bad Carbs.

But tashlich is all about bread. As the sun sets after Rosh Hashanah, it's traditional for Jews to cast away our sins from the previous year by tossing handfuls of breadcrumbs into a moving body of water.

Of course, considering my stellar track record this year, I could probably get away with tossing just a crouton or two.

Attack of the Angry, Racist Tailors

I'll bet this guy's KKK robe is 100% cotton.

Bill and Jerry's Meshuggeneh Adventure

So a geek, a Heeb, and a cliche of a typical American family walk into a bar...or, even worse, walk into our living rooms.

WTF is Microsoft thinking with these bizarre TV ads starring Bill Gates and Jerry Seinfeld?

But, then again, what do we expect from an operating system that has you press "Start" to shut down your machine.

L'Enfer - C'est Ohio

From a church in Blacklick, Ohio.

Lucky for me, Jews don't have hell; we have Miami.

Bad Grammar - The Smoking Gun

Did Steve Jobs really send Apple customers e-mails discussing upcoming product releases?

Doubting the validity of the messages, a few grammar geeks at Wired and UC Davis did a thorough grammatical analysis and came up with a few telltale errors:

• The incorrect use of "which" vs. "that"
  
• Improper use of independent clauses
  
• Unnecessary commas
  

Not to be outdone, Bill Gates posted this instructional video:

"Windows Vista 2008 Causing PC Problems? Your Not Alone."

Not Just Another QWERTY Face

How cool is this? Artist Jeremy Mayer makes sculptures out of old typewriters.

He admits they're a little creepy, but regardless, his creations are pretty amazing.

And you never have to change the ribbon.

Lost in Translation

I'm addicted to the Travel Channel show Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations. I love Bourdain's New York sensibility and sarcastic charm. And he goes to really cool places.

So, I'm watching him traipse through South America, and a promo comes on for the next show, a segment on Colombia. But the graphic on the screen says "Columbia."

This is the frickin' Travel Channel. One would think they could spell the names of the countries they're promoting.

¿Dónde están los redactores?

We've Got Rules that Jingo Jingo Jingo

According to a recent article in the New York Times, the Ladies Professional Golf Association (LPGA) is instilling a rule that all players must speak conversant English by 2009, or be suspended from the tour.

They claim it's all about the sponsors, but I think it smacks of good old American jingoism.

We already know that the LPGA doesn't acknowledge the presence of their huge lesbian fan base, or the fact that a whole bunch of women golf pros are also cunnilinguists.

Maybe if the LPGA took the nine iron out of its ass and catered more to the dykes on spikes who spend lots of money on the sport, the foreign gals could concentrate on just hitting the ball, er, straight.

Marriage is the New Black

With California's recent legalization of gay marriage, I've attended more than my share of happy homo weddings in the past few weeks.

The ceremonies were all heartfelt and touching. I cried. The brides and grooms cried. We ate very tall cake, danced in our bare feet, drank way too much Champagne, and no straight marriages were harmed in the process.

But marriage isn't for everybody. And it shouldn't become the latest cool, gay accessory.

In the good old days, we all lived in the gay ghetto, spent our nights in discos or drumming circles, and only hetero couples were prodded by friends and family with "So when are you two getting married?"

Now, gay couples can't go to the grocery store without some stranger approaching them to ask about the best wine to pair with lamb, and when they're tying the knot.

A Mighty Fortress is Our Bra

Just another funny bone tickler from the geeky genius at xkcd.

Btw, his title? "Frustration."

The Few, The Proud, The Grammarines

Okay, I know I'm a little obsessed with the difference between "less" and "fewer." I can't help it; I'm a geek. So when I saw this while shopping earlier, I couldn't resist.

Oh, and sorry about the poor photo quality.

I used the camera in my phone and, although it seems to take marvelous pictures of parts of my ear, the inside of my purse, and one (or sometimes both) of my feet, apparently all the fluorescent lighting in the world won't turn me into Diane Arbus.

Grammar Nerds, Rejoice!

Check Your Schlep-o-Meter

Oy, such a schlep it was! Well, maybe it wouldn't be such a schlep if you lived in a better planned area.

Check out Walk Score to find your neighborhood's walkability score. My address gets an 86 out of 100. This means I can drive less because I can easily walk to shops, restaurants, grocery stores, etc.

And you can also see a photo of your home if you click on Go to Street Level View (not available in all areas).

How Jew Are You?

So I took the Survey of American Jewish Language, "the first of its kind to ask North Americans about the words from Yiddish and Hebrew (and other languages) that they may use or recognize."

It was sort of like a combination of the SATs and a Cosmo sex quiz. In addition to asking about recognition of certain Hebrew and Yiddish words, the survey asks about English expressions that can be attributed to Yiddish, and word pronunciation.

And they also ask when was the last time you called your mother.

I recognized about 75% of the words and most of the expressions. I guess that gives me about a B+ as a Heeb. Pretty good for someone who grew up in a home so Reform we were almost Episcopalian.

Comma-kazi

Renegade commas are taking over the world.

Ask the Maven

I'm often asked questions by non-Jewish friends about the many mysteries of Judaism. I'd thought I'd start to answer them here to help demystify Semitic semantics.

Please note, these are actual questions. I'm not making this up.

Question: Is soaking in Epsom salts a Jewish thing?

Answer: Although we Heebs have been known to enjoy floating in the Dead Sea, parting the Red Sea, and frolicking in the Med Sea (all three can be accessed in Israel, btw), Epsom salts are an equal opportunity pleasure that Jews and non-Jews alike utilize to relieve muscle pain.

Question: I fed my cat tuna and chicken on the same plate. He ate the tuna, but wouldn't touch the chicken. Is he kosher?

Answer: No your cat is not kashrut (or katrut in your case). Now, if you were to feed him a cheeseburger with a side of shrimp puffs, that would be one treyf-ridden meal. And your vet would probably kill you.

You Could Put Out an Eye!

Why Jews don't wear thong underwear.

Okay, Mom, so maybe you're right about some things.

My Internal GPS Works Like This

Just another peek into my life from xkcd.

Straight Jacket or Sports Bra?

Break out the Advil and the Icy-Hot. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I suffer regularly from an embarrassing sports injury - the I can't take off this damn sports bra injury.

After every grueling workout, I have to perform gravity-defying acrobatic contortions to get my freakin' bra off. And being all sweaty makes it that much more of a challenge.

Sometimes I think I've torn my rotator cuff, and other times I suffer only a charley horse or a nosebleed (don't try to undress after a workout near large pieces of furniture).

Would it kill the sports bra designers to add an emergency exit?

The Synnytyselimiksi Monologues

Talk about taking a ride. A Finnish artist has created a giant vulva bicycle taxi to create an awareness of the world's male-centric outlook.

Or something like that.

But what really cracked me up was the article in the Helsinki paper which was only partially translated. For example:

"Far from view, wheeled vehicle crossing gogolilainen jättiläisnenä reveal a closer as seen from a woman's synnytyselimiksi."

Now that's a mouthful.

Baby, You Can Drive My...Routan?

The naming consultants at Volkswagen are smoking crack. Their newest models have the weirdest, most unpronounceable, and most unspellable names.

As a consumer, what am I supposed to get from names like Touareg, Tiguan, and Routan?

I just gotta say, when I read those names, images of cool German cars don't come to mind.

Instead, I'm thinking weird creatures from a Tolkien novel, or three starchy yet delicious food items from Greenland, or "have you met my Latvian cousins?".

And I wouldn't be surprised if the VW focus groups were packed with IKEA employees.

Being Green and Easy

Who knew entomology could be so hot? Check out Green Porno, a collection of eight short films depicting the sex lives of various insects.

All are written and narrated by Isabella Rossellini, who also stars as the lead bug in each one. And she makes a very fetching earthworm.

I've Found Nerdvana - xkcd

Finally. A recipe that makes sense.

It's All Geek to Me

Oh we'll have fun fun fun until daddy takes the Prius awaaaay. Is this not the coolest geekmobile everrrr? I mean, who wouldn't love a topless Prius?

And speaking of geekiness, my pal Martha, co-host of A Way With Words - the public radio show where language lovers love to linger - sent me a link to Lifehacker. (Oh my, that alliteration took on a life of its own.)

Talk about a geek paradise. That site is almost as much fun as spending six hours at the Apple Store.

The Love That Dare Not Use its Name

Apparently, residents of the Greek island of Lesbos are sick and tired of gay women calling themselves "lesbians." So they've taken the issue to court.

Come on.

We've used the L Word to describe our Subaru-driving, flannel-wearing, cat-loving sisters for like a zillion years, and suddenly now in 2008 the islanders want their name back?

Take it up with Sappho, people.

Spam - The 11th Plague

I've been playing with different social networking sites and applications lately, trying them out, seeing how they work, and having fun splashing around in my geekiness.

And then I stumbled on Reunion.com. (No link for them; don't wanna send any eyeballs their way.)

In a nutshell, or anywhere else for that matter, they suck.

When I signed up for what appeared to be just another innocuous way to connect with friends online, that chazzerai-ridden site hijacked my entire gmail contact list and spammed the hell out of them.

And to be kicked in the head by the by-product of a beast with non-cloven hooves on Pesach? Well, it's just not kosher.

Read what the LA Times has to say about these scummy sheisters.

The Goyfiltefish Incident

I introduced gefilte fish to some non-Jewish pals today.

Doubt it'll become a late-night craving for any of them.

Happy Pesach!

Let My People Know

I just found a site debunking Jewish urban legends called, cleverly enough, Jewish Legends.

Did you know that "Mama" Cass Elliot was born Ellen Naomi Cohen in Scarsdale, NY?

And she died from a heart attack, not from choking on a ham sandwich on Yom Kippur. Um, ham? On Yom Kippur? Helloooo??? She was a Heeb, already!

I also learned that, although she's claimed it for years, my mother does not actually know everything.

Typo Lypo

I am not worthy.

The Typo Eradication Advancement League, or TEAL, is on a serious mission to rid the U.S. of typos one city at a time. Talk about a way fun road trip (for some of us, anyhow).

And I thought I was in the top percentile of word nerdiness.

Thanks to Grant Barrett, co-host of public radio's A Way With Words, for his recent post about this group on the show's discussion forum.

Kosher or Keebler? You Decide.

This is Rabbi Yaakov Y. Horowitz, who heads the 17 rabbinical inspectors who oversee production at Manischewitz, a kosher food company.

He's the guy who makes sure our matzo is truly kosher for Passover.

But I think he leads a double life. Doesn't he resemble a Keebler elf?

Sound, Off!

Here's what I hate: websites that assault you with music or cheesy sound effects the moment their home page loads. And some sites don't even let you turn off their freakin' bird calls or, even worse, nasty smooth jazz.

For example, I love the Estancia Hotel , but their home page plays the same flamenco guitar riff over and over.

And, what's worse, You. Can't. Make. It. Stop.

There's a little sound icon in the top right corner, but if you click on it, the music stops for about 10 seconds and then starts up again.

And, under normal circumstances, I like flamenco music. Just not the same six notes in a continuous loop. I would think that if you're trying to sell very expensive hotel rooms and spa treatments, pissing off your online audience isn't a really good idea.

The Estancia site is supposed to be all about relaxation, but the only thing I feel after clicking through a page or two is the urge to hunt down Ottmar Liebert.

Tiara del Fuego

Okay, so the G-Shot doc found my blog and returned fire with a post about my reference to his procedure (scroll down to April 5th entry).

And he called me a JAP!

Yep, I'm a Heeb and an American, and I can be a royal pain in the arse sometimes, but a princess? Oy, that I'm not.

PS. Comedian Margaret Cho actually got the G-Shot. Read about it here.

G-Spot GPS

G-spot amplification is the latest trend in female sexual enhancement. Men get a little blue pill; we get large hypodermic needles.

The G-Shot works like this: first you're injected with an anesthetic. Then you're injected with human engineered collagen. And then supposedly your G-spot plumps up like a Ballpark Frank on a hot grill to about the size of a quarter. Although, with the current recession it may feel more like a dime.

And, if you believe the hype, your elusive G-spot, something your frustrated partner equated with a tiny town in rural Ohio, will be as easy to find as the Statue of Liberty.

Personally, I'd rather date someone with a good sense of direction.

Plagued With Guilt

The Ten Plagues of Egypt are an integral part of the story of Passover.

And no one makes them more fun to learn about than The Source for Everything Jewish.

You'll be amused for hours whether you prefer chocolate boils, locust finger puppets or bowling for dead cattle.

Yep, we Heebs sure know how to party.

And Nosh Some Hamentaschen

Purim falls on March 20th or 21st at sundown. (Two Jews, three opinions. Can't we ever agree on anything?)

For the uninitiated, Purim is another one of those Jewish holidays that's summed up like this:

They tried to kill us. We won. Let's eat.

And during Purim we eat hamentaschen (literally, Haman's pockets). Around 350 BCE, an evil advisor to King Ahasuerus of Persia, named Haman, hatched a plan to kill all the Jews. I hate to give away the ending, but the Jews survived and Haman was hanged.

The triangular-shaped cookies represent his three-cornered hat. I don't really get the pocket-hat relationship, but I do believe that the reason prune is the traditional hamentaschen flavor is to give us an excuse to kvetch about our irritable bowel syndrome.

Personally, I prefer apricot.

Pope Prius the First

The Vatican has updated the seven deadly sins to include abusing the environment.

So what does this mean for future Palm Sunday observances? Replacing thousands of freshly-cut palm fronds with replicas made from recycled plastic grocery bags?

And about those Christmas trees. . .

Dennis the Menace

That's right, Dennis Rodman is my homie. Two friends and I had a close encounter with him while we were having drinks in West Hollyweird last weekend.

When he plopped himself down next to me it was clear he was higher than the Wright brothers on a windy day. And our scintillating conversation? If only Dr. Seuss had been available to translate.

But the strangest part of the evening was when he groped my bazoom and then threw my friend Lauri onto his lap. Yep, that Dennis Rodman sure knows how to show a girl a good time.

Funnier Than a Ball of Yarn in a Water Cooler

According to The Onion, America's Finest News Source, there's a serious shortage of idioms in this country.

And that's scarier than a rabbi running a bacon-eating contest.

Shake Your Groove Thing

We homos get blamed for everything. Now an ultra-right wing member of the Israeli parliament is blaming recent earthquakes on Israel's tolerant attitude towards homosexuality.

In an article in Britain's Telegraph, Shlomo Benizri of the ultra-Orthodox Jewish Shas party said this:

"Why do earthquakes happen? One of the reasons is the things to which the Knesset gives legitimacy, to sodomy," Benizri said during a parliamentary debate on earthquake preparedness.

"God says you shake your genitals where you are not supposed to and I will shake my world in order to wake you up," he added.

If we actually were capable of such phenomena I think we'd do something much more universally appealing, like rid the world of back hair.

Less Cringing, Fewer Dunderheads

So this morning I'm in the grocery store ready to check out, and something odd catches my eye. It's a sign that reads "Express Lane - 15 Items or Fewer."

Yes, Fewer! Not "15 Items or Less."

It appears that someone in the grocery industry finally took a damn grammar class.

Once You Go Mac. . .

If you're a Mac addict like me then you'll be rushing to the theater to see the new movie MacHeads, a documentary about the Macintosh Nation.

But I'm not wild about the title. Maybe they should've called it "Gone With the Windows."

Whiny the Poo and the Semi-Colonoscopy

I had my first colonoscopy today. The procedure wasn't bad. In fact, I don't remember much after they put in the IV.

The prep you have to go through the day before is nasty, so I won't go into detail. Just imagine yourself spending 12 hours on an overdose of laxatives.

Other than the Big Purge-a-Thon, my only real complaint is that I was sent home with a lovely parting gift - three very graphic photos of the inside of my colon. I was woozy enough from the anesthesia. This I didn't need to see.

Maybe it's because in my drugged stupor, I was probably asking over and over if they'd found my missing spare set of car keys.

Jewphoria!

I just found the coolest site with the best Yid toys everrr! (No, not those types of toys.) It's called Oy Toys and sells a series of plush dog toys with Yiddish nicknames.

Of course, my favorite is Shpilkes the Ant.

But Tuchis the Donkey and Schlep the Camel are close seconds. And then there's Lox the Fish. Oy, I feel like a kid in a halvah store. Too bad I didn't find this before Hanukkah.

Nasal Gazing

Why does this woman have a shofar coming out of her nose?

Okay, so it's not a shofar; it's a neti pot, an ancient Ayurvedic nasal cleansing device. The term jala neti means nasal cleansing in Sanskrit.

I've recently started using a neti pot because it's supposed to help prevent sinus problems caused by colds, allergies, poor air quality, etc.

And, as weird as this might sound, it's really fun to pour warm salt water in one nostril and watch it come out the other side.

Yeah, it's kind of gross, and it feels a little like being surprised by high tide while napping on the beach with your face in the sand, but every morning, after my neti has been thoroughly potted, I can really breathe.

And it makes me feel a little braver about facing my next invasive adventure - an upcoming (no pun intended) colonoscopy.

A New Year's Mikvah Mitzvah

So this morning, three friends and I celebrated the new year by jumping into the 55-degree waters off the coast of San Diego. It was freezing, invigorating, and the perfect way to start 2008.

Happy New Year!

(I'm the one on the far right.)