moocowinthecity

Calling Down the Sun

This morning started out right; a quick half hour of Yoga and Pilates at 5am; followed by a hot shower and black coffee, then putting on jeans two sizes smaller than I was able to fit into at the start of the summer, and finding five dollars in the pocket of the jeans and then finding that one of my vintage shirts fits once more (it’s about time); followed with a breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast with jelly, yogurt and some frozen grapes, with about three more cups of coffee I should be ready to face the day.

And now, a quick update before I head for the bus at 6:30am

This weekend was wonderfully filled with rest, perhaps the most emotionally beautiful sex I’ve had, and there were just some great times hanging out with friends, getting some air, and resting. It was wonderful to take some time off from the real world and just exist. While I was not as successful as I would have liked to have been in some areas this weekend, I have effectively re-organized my calendar to make up for for the difference.

Sadly, I think someone bogarted my iPod so I’ll be buying a CD player after my computer class, because I really just don’t work as effectively as I do when I listen to music and it makes the up to half-hour commute (not to mention the five to ten minute walk) slightly annoying (there’s one driver that likes to listen to Rush Limbaugh which I really just don’t have the patience to listen to at any time, but especially in the morning).

Today is looking pretty busy: I have my 8am class, then I’m getting my CD Player at 9am, From 10-11am I have Phonetics, from 11-12pm I have Structure of English: Grammar and Lexicon, from 12-1pm I have my office hours at Hillel, from 1-3pm I have my recitation for the computer course, then from 3-4pm I’m working on Tibetan homework and from 4-5pm I’m studying for my Phonetics course; at 7pm I have the Women’s Center Meeting (I’m acting Secretary for the semester) and at some point in the day my bag should arrive via UPS which is good, because it’s a pain not having one at the moment.

Anyways, time to make another cup of coffee and run out the door; a real update sometime later today.

Peace all

– Matan

Calling Down the Sun

This morning started out right; a quick half hour of Yoga and Pilates at 5am; followed by a hot shower and black coffee, then putting on jeans two sizes smaller than I was able to fit into at the start of the summer, and finding five dollars in the pocket of the jeans and then finding that one of my vintage shirts fits once more (it’s about time); followed with a breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast with jelly, yogurt and some frozen grapes, with about three more cups of coffee I should be ready to face the day.

And now, a quick update before I head for the bus at 6:30am

This weekend was wonderfully filled with rest, perhaps the most emotionally beautiful sex I’ve had, and there were just some great times hanging out with friends, getting some air, and resting. It was wonderful to take some time off from the real world and just exist. While I was not as successful as I would have liked to have been in some areas this weekend, I have effectively re-organized my calendar to make up for for the difference.

Sadly, I think someone bogarted my iPod so I’ll be buying a CD player after my computer class, because I really just don’t work as effectively as I do when I listen to music and it makes the up to half-hour commute (not to mention the five to ten minute walk) slightly annoying (there’s one driver that likes to listen to Rush Limbaugh which I really just don’t have the patience to listen to at any time, but especially in the morning).

Today is looking pretty busy: I have my 8am class, then I’m getting my CD Player at 9am, From 10-11am I have Phonetics, from 11-12pm I have Structure of English: Grammar and Lexicon, from 12-1pm I have my office hours at Hillel, from 1-3pm I have my recitation for the computer course, then from 3-4pm I’m working on Tibetan homework and from 4-5pm I’m studying for my Phonetics course; at 7pm I have the Women’s Center Meeting (I’m acting Secretary for the semester) and at some point in the day my bag should arrive via UPS which is good, because it’s a pain not having one at the moment.

Anyways, time to make another cup of coffee and run out the door; a real update sometime later today.

Peace all

– Matan

To Do List

To Do List:

Studying:

Tibetan Homework (Alphabet, Create Homework Schedule, Call Prof, MP3s)

Phonetics (Flash Cards, Schedule with LIW for Tagalog, Readings)

Grammar & Lexicon (Print Out Handouts)

Thank You Letters

Recommendation Letters (Great Lakes Graphic & Printing)

Chai Line

Budget

Manual

Hillel

E-mail to Marcy

Planned Office Hours

Make Some Change Program Writeup

Wellness Center Suicide Prevention Program Grant

Complete & Turn in for Funding

Student Health Services

Enter Essay Contest

Dry Cleaning

Laundry

Apartment Stuff

Clean

Throw out more stuff

Sell more stuff

The Usual

Pack for NYC/LI

To Do List

To Do List:

Studying:

Tibetan Homework (Alphabet, Create Homework Schedule, Call Prof, MP3s)

Phonetics (Flash Cards, Schedule with LIW for Tagalog, Readings)

Grammar & Lexicon (Print Out Handouts)

Thank You Letters

Recommendation Letters (Great Lakes Graphic & Printing)

Chai Line

Budget

Manual

Hillel

E-mail to Marcy

Planned Office Hours

Make Some Change Program Writeup

Wellness Center Suicide Prevention Program Grant

Complete & Turn in for Funding

Student Health Services

Enter Essay Contest

Dry Cleaning

Laundry

Apartment Stuff

Clean

Throw out more stuff

Sell more stuff

The Usual

Pack for NYC/LI

Wow…that was beyond amazing, I have to go update my LiveJournal…

…while I haven’t been doing the ‘obligatory’ post for the more blasé trysts of the year…this one certainly deserves an honorific post. What a guy (in so many ways)…and not only that, this also marks my first time having sex with a Jew (…an Italian Jew…).

…and now…I need to sleep; because I have a ton of studying to do for Phonetics and Tibetan this weekend.

…and I also really, really need to shower.

stress…man…ain’t no such thing here to night…we’re all coooool as cucumbers.

Wow…that was beyond amazing, I have to go update my LiveJournal…

…while I haven’t been doing the ‘obligatory’ post for the more blasé trysts of the year…this one certainly deserves an honorific post. What a guy (in so many ways)…and not only that, this also marks my first time having sex with a Jew (…an Italian Jew…).

…and now…I need to sleep; because I have a ton of studying to do for Phonetics and Tibetan this weekend.

…and I also really, really need to shower.

stress…man…ain’t no such thing here to night…we’re all coooool as cucumbers.

Updatage

The High Holy Days

We are rapidly approaching the High Holy Days, starting with Rosh Hashanah which ushers in the New Year and then the Days of Awe which proceed Kol Nidrei, the service before Yom Kippur which is the day of Atonement.

Rosh Hashanah is observed this Year (2007/5767) from Sundown on September 12th through Sundown on September 14th. Erev Rosh Hashanah is Sundown on September 12th. The First Day of Rosh Hashanah is September 13th, The Second Day of Rosh Hashanah is September 14th, with further services on Shabbat Shuva on Saturday September 15th. I will be home for Rosh Hashanah services, then flying back up to Buffalo Sunday, September 16th to sit for classes, and then returning to New York City Friday Afternoon for Yom Kippur which begins Sundown on Friday September 21st and lasts through Sundown Friday September, 22nd returning to Buffalo Sunday September 23, 2007.

Kol Nidrei for some time now, has been my favorite service, and I look forward to it every year. In my synagogue’s tradition, we have an entire service for those who cannot have a service themselves; for those who if they admitted their Jewish heritage would be put to death. This runs a lot deeper for me…because there are many other people in the world who cannot admit who and what they are for fear of what are sometimes very real, very deadly consequences. So together, we pray for those who want to, but cannot pray for themselves and we pray for their atonement and we look forward to a day when closets are only for clothes.

This brings us to Yom Kippur, when even the angels tremble in awe before the lord; this is the most calming day of the year for me (and also the most emotional). I wear humble, slightly ripped clothing to synagogue. Hashem has seen me naked, he’s seen me when I’ve been the most vulnerable so why stand before God with the pretense of an Armani suit in some hopes that he’ll see cloth instead of my soul…it’s so much more fulfilling to stand before him, imperfect, in imperfect clothing saying “this is who I am, you know who I am, I know who I am, I stand before you knowing I can hide no secrets and with the understanding that I will transgress again.” Others disagree and bring out the bling, which is their right, it’s just not my style, but to each their own.

Classes & The Weekend

Classes are going wonderfully (they’re work intensive, and they’re interesting…I hate when I’m bored in class, and fortunately this semester that’s not an issue). My schedule – thankfully – is smoothing itself out as we approach the end of the second week of classes. With twelve or so weeks left to go (or three months, not that I’m counting…okay, I’m counting…) I’m excited for things to be picking up speed. I’ve found, going into my sixth year at UB, that it takes two and a half weeks for everything to fall in place for faculty and students alike, no matter how much planning you’ve done.

I’m taking this weekend, starting Friday Night (after dinner with Jeruen and Second Dinner with the Syphrit Sisters) – through Sunday Night to turn off my cell phone, shut down my instant messenger and to get ahead in the readings, to get ahead in the assignments, and to catch up on some of the Tibetan Work that I want to get done.

I also need this time to do laundry, clean my apartment, scrub the floors, and personally, to just recharge.

Hillel

I’m incredibly excited and pleased to be able to announce that I’ve been hired by Hillel as their Special Projects Intern (from September 5th through December 20th) with my main focus of getting the Chai Line up and running.

I’m really looking forward to the opportunity to set the project that I’ve designed into motion. It’s my hope that the program will turn into a student lead initiative for Hillels nation-wide and that it will grow in scope while still following the principles of what a Life Line should be. I first designed this program last fall, so I’m incredibly happy that I’ll personally have the chance to implement it before I make Aliyah to Israel…to see what I’ve designed come to life, so to speak.

My time requirement is ten-hours a week; though I’m sure I’ll have the pleasure of being able to put more time and effort into the program to make sure that it gets off to a rocking start.

Israel Update

I received an email from Nefesh B’Nefesh letting me know that my grant application is currently being processed, and while there’s some last few things that need to be ironed out, we’re well on our way to finishing this section of the process. I’m still in the process of figuring out where I stand with relation to Garin Tzabar and I believe I’ll find out more about that sometime in October. I should find out what Kibbutz I’m on sometime in December.

New Instrument

I’ve decided, after hanging around the sale at Guitar World last weekend, that I want to get a Back Packers Guitar…I’ve been dying to learn a new instrument for awhile (I play the clarinet) and Guitars seem to bring people together no matter what country your in, so I’ve decided to invest in one and learn how to play as I go…I still can’t sing…but that’s what other people are for. It’ll take a couple of weeks to save up for, but that’s fine…I won’t have time to start jamming on it until after October anyway.

Travel

One eye the shadows, protecting his fellows, from sun up to the moon on his back, send the villains to hades, a hit with the ladies, a stallion in the sack”
– A Man For All Seasons

…time to hit the sack.

Updatage

The High Holy Days

We are rapidly approaching the High Holy Days, starting with Rosh Hashanah which ushers in the New Year and then the Days of Awe which proceed Kol Nidrei, the service before Yom Kippur which is the day of Atonement.

Rosh Hashanah is observed this Year (2007/5767) from Sundown on September 12th through Sundown on September 14th. Erev Rosh Hashanah is Sundown on September 12th. The First Day of Rosh Hashanah is September 13th, The Second Day of Rosh Hashanah is September 14th, with further services on Shabbat Shuva on Saturday September 15th. I will be home for Rosh Hashanah services, then flying back up to Buffalo Sunday, September 16th to sit for classes, and then returning to New York City Friday Afternoon for Yom Kippur which begins Sundown on Friday September 21st and lasts through Sundown Friday September, 22nd returning to Buffalo Sunday September 23, 2007.

Kol Nidrei for some time now, has been my favorite service, and I look forward to it every year. In my synagogue’s tradition, we have an entire service for those who cannot have a service themselves; for those who if they admitted their Jewish heritage would be put to death. This runs a lot deeper for me…because there are many other people in the world who cannot admit who and what they are for fear of what are sometimes very real, very deadly consequences. So together, we pray for those who want to, but cannot pray for themselves and we pray for their atonement and we look forward to a day when closets are only for clothes.

This brings us to Yom Kippur, when even the angels tremble in awe before the lord; this is the most calming day of the year for me (and also the most emotional). I wear humble, slightly ripped clothing to synagogue. Hashem has seen me naked, he’s seen me when I’ve been the most vulnerable so why stand before God with the pretense of an Armani suit in some hopes that he’ll see cloth instead of my soul…it’s so much more fulfilling to stand before him, imperfect, in imperfect clothing saying “this is who I am, you know who I am, I know who I am, I stand before you knowing I can hide no secrets and with the understanding that I will transgress again.” Others disagree and bring out the bling, which is their right, it’s just not my style, but to each their own.

Classes & The Weekend

Classes are going wonderfully (they’re work intensive, and they’re interesting…I hate when I’m bored in class, and fortunately this semester that’s not an issue). My schedule – thankfully – is smoothing itself out as we approach the end of the second week of classes. With twelve or so weeks left to go (or three months, not that I’m counting…okay, I’m counting…) I’m excited for things to be picking up speed. I’ve found, going into my sixth year at UB, that it takes two and a half weeks for everything to fall in place for faculty and students alike, no matter how much planning you’ve done.

I’m taking this weekend, starting Friday Night (after dinner with Jeruen and Second Dinner with the Syphrit Sisters) – through Sunday Night to turn off my cell phone, shut down my instant messenger and to get ahead in the readings, to get ahead in the assignments, and to catch up on some of the Tibetan Work that I want to get done.

I also need this time to do laundry, clean my apartment, scrub the floors, and personally, to just recharge.

Hillel

I’m incredibly excited and pleased to be able to announce that I’ve been hired by Hillel as their Special Projects Intern (from September 5th through December 20th) with my main focus of getting the Chai Line up and running.

I’m really looking forward to the opportunity to set the project that I’ve designed into motion. It’s my hope that the program will turn into a student lead initiative for Hillels nation-wide and that it will grow in scope while still following the principles of what a Life Line should be. I first designed this program last fall, so I’m incredibly happy that I’ll personally have the chance to implement it before I make Aliyah to Israel…to see what I’ve designed come to life, so to speak.

My time requirement is ten-hours a week; though I’m sure I’ll have the pleasure of being able to put more time and effort into the program to make sure that it gets off to a rocking start.

Israel Update

I received an email from Nefesh B’Nefesh letting me know that my grant application is currently being processed, and while there’s some last few things that need to be ironed out, we’re well on our way to finishing this section of the process. I’m still in the process of figuring out where I stand with relation to Garin Tzabar and I believe I’ll find out more about that sometime in October. I should find out what Kibbutz I’m on sometime in December.

New Instrument

I’ve decided, after hanging around the sale at Guitar World last weekend, that I want to get a Back Packers Guitar…I’ve been dying to learn a new instrument for awhile (I play the clarinet) and Guitars seem to bring people together no matter what country your in, so I’ve decided to invest in one and learn how to play as I go…I still can’t sing…but that’s what other people are for. It’ll take a couple of weeks to save up for, but that’s fine…I won’t have time to start jamming on it until after October anyway.

Travel

One eye the shadows, protecting his fellows, from sun up to the moon on his back, send the villains to hades, a hit with the ladies, a stallion in the sack”
– A Man For All Seasons

…time to hit the sack.

Spoons

Spoons

The sound of coffee mugs clinking, a diner at twelve-a-m, boys sitting at a bar in low rider jeans, showing the bands of their underwear wrapped tightly around muscular hips, as their feet rest on the foot stand of their stools, betraying their outward appearance of confidence with a nervous tap, their smiles so deceiving, and it seems that we’re waiting…waiting for the summer rain as over-shirts come off and we sit, ‘the guys’ in tank-tops, sweat forming around their necks and dripping down their backs and chests.

The lady behind the counter knows us all, she knows what we like to eat, she knows when we’re poor and she knows when we have a little bit of spare cash, it doesn’t matter…she feeds us. She knows when we’re hurting and when we need a little bit of faith…she pays attention and she prays. She gets angry when we don’t tell her if we’re leaving town for a bit and she always asks for postcards, always…she has hundreds, each one special to her, each one more than a name…each one a person talking to her…which she saves, tied in an old yellow ribbon so we’ll come home safe. She keeps them in her top dresser drawer, all of the love notes she never received from men who couldn’t see her beauty radiate from within, from foreign places she’ll never be able to afford to go…we call her Mom.

Sirens are heard off in the distance of another raid, Police seeking constant community support from the same community they attack each weekend, hoping that we’ll believe them when they say it’s just a few rogue cops, as they parade the one or two gay members of their department in front of us at each pride…as if that makes it okay for them to call us faggots when they harass us as we walk home at night…funny, the last one to call me faggot sucked me off three weeks ago in the stall of a club, but I only guess it makes you gay if you get caught with another guys cock in your mouth…straight until proven guilty.

I light up my cigarette, the third in what will no doubt be the string of many…another sleepless night of worry…thirty-six new HIV cases reported last weekend, constant baited breathe at the prick of a finger tip so you can call all your friends and tell them that you’re still negative…as if it were a contest, like a game of Russian Roulette, no idea who’s going to disappear next…one by one, my friends vanish as older activists pretend that they grew up in the hardest time ‘the eighties’, ‘the scare’…and no doubt it was hard…but at least then there were activists.

And Mom comes to the table to bring me two cups of black coffee so she won’t have to bother me in thought while I down the caffeinated substance to keep my buzz going as I run my hands through my hair: so many gorgeous zombies, so many who won’t be with us next year.

Another step forward brings with it ten steps back and as we repeat the same actions of the past, we move so far so quickly that it’s hard to keep track, as I look up at two boys as they move towards the back booth, where Mom doesn’t keep a light bulb hanging overhead, and they go there for privacy, as they lean in and kiss one another, his lips making contact with his lovers neck…because if they did that at home, the next day they’d be found dead…his father my next door neighbor with the stars and bars on his truck…I remember the first time I met his son who is now moving down to the lower territories of his male companion…it was three months ago when they were seen driving down the streets in Boys Town throwing rocks at the windows of the Gay Bars…if his father only knew how far self loathing went.

I get up and go to bring my cups to the sink, and try to remember how many years it’s been that Mom has known that I don’t need spoons with my coffee as I light my fourth cigarette and inhale and gently grin at the no smoking sign that Mom doesn’t enforce for me (she knows me too well) as I get ready to walk back to my apartment.

It’s starting to rain as mist rises from the city streets.

Spoons

Spoons

The sound of coffee mugs clinking, a diner at twelve-a-m, boys sitting at a bar in low rider jeans, showing the bands of their underwear wrapped tightly around muscular hips, as their feet rest on the foot stand of their stools, betraying their outward appearance of confidence with a nervous tap, their smiles so deceiving, and it seems that we’re waiting…waiting for the summer rain as over-shirts come off and we sit, ‘the guys’ in tank-tops, sweat forming around their necks and dripping down their backs and chests.

The lady behind the counter knows us all, she knows what we like to eat, she knows when we’re poor and she knows when we have a little bit of spare cash, it doesn’t matter…she feeds us. She knows when we’re hurting and when we need a little bit of faith…she pays attention and she prays. She gets angry when we don’t tell her if we’re leaving town for a bit and she always asks for postcards, always…she has hundreds, each one special to her, each one more than a name…each one a person talking to her…which she saves, tied in an old yellow ribbon so we’ll come home safe. She keeps them in her top dresser drawer, all of the love notes she never received from men who couldn’t see her beauty radiate from within, from foreign places she’ll never be able to afford to go…we call her Mom.

Sirens are heard off in the distance of another raid, Police seeking constant community support from the same community they attack each weekend, hoping that we’ll believe them when they say it’s just a few rogue cops, as they parade the one or two gay members of their department in front of us at each pride…as if that makes it okay for them to call us faggots when they harass us as we walk home at night…funny, the last one to call me faggot sucked me off three weeks ago in the stall of a club, but I only guess it makes you gay if you get caught with another guys cock in your mouth…straight until proven guilty.

I light up my cigarette, the third in what will no doubt be the string of many…another sleepless night of worry…thirty-six new HIV cases reported last weekend, constant baited breathe at the prick of a finger tip so you can call all your friends and tell them that you’re still negative…as if it were a contest, like a game of Russian Roulette, no idea who’s going to disappear next…one by one, my friends vanish as older activists pretend that they grew up in the hardest time ‘the eighties’, ‘the scare’…and no doubt it was hard…but at least then there were activists.

And Mom comes to the table to bring me two cups of black coffee so she won’t have to bother me in thought while I down the caffeinated substance to keep my buzz going as I run my hands through my hair: so many gorgeous zombies, so many who won’t be with us next year.

Another step forward brings with it ten steps back and as we repeat the same actions of the past, we move so far so quickly that it’s hard to keep track, as I look up at two boys as they move towards the back booth, where Mom doesn’t keep a light bulb hanging overhead, and they go there for privacy, as they lean in and kiss one another, his lips making contact with his lovers neck…because if they did that at home, the next day they’d be found dead…his father my next door neighbor with the stars and bars on his truck…I remember the first time I met his son who is now moving down to the lower territories of his male companion…it was three months ago when they were seen driving down the streets in Boys Town throwing rocks at the windows of the Gay Bars…if his father only knew how far self loathing went.

I get up and go to bring my cups to the sink, and try to remember how many years it’s been that Mom has known that I don’t need spoons with my coffee as I light my fourth cigarette and inhale and gently grin at the no smoking sign that Mom doesn’t enforce for me (she knows me too well) as I get ready to walk back to my apartment.

It’s starting to rain as mist rises from the city streets.