Fly St.

Even here life can become routine. Not that it's boring or anything, but, well, it's just grown routine. My twelve-day weeks leave little time for me to properly engage any sort of social activity. My three days off are divided in: cleaning, sleeping lost hours and traveling to nearby Akko or, on occasion, watch a movie at a friend's place. Speaking of, my friends all have DVD players. I, myself, am bereft of such technology. We have preferred, for the sake of and in the spirit of service, to accept nothing less than the life of a servant. Books lay strewn across the surfaces of my room, leaving barely enough room for my precious CD player, which, accompanied with a panacea of albums, compose the soundtrack to my routine. Actually, it should be mentioned that a new friend --a valuable one, which will be included in the banquet following my death--, Pandora.com, has provided a very exciting outlet for my melomaniacal needs. Sometimes, it bends me to its will, as I lay helpless to vote for a song I may not like in the hopes of retaining, or rather preserving, like a tender rose petal, the pristine status of my radio station.

Winter falls in Israel reluctantly, the sun still unleashing a sort of hellish fury on whoever is unlucky enough to live here. Thank God for the clouds that go by, or I swear the place would be a desert.

With Love From London

This Month's Craze

I really like what she's wearing on that picture.

Two things I was thinking, about clothing. One: pastel coloured shirts are awesome, and my new, not-yet-acquired wardrobe is full of them, as well as complimentary ties and scarves. Two: if I were to become some sort of political figure with a power sufficient enough to change fashion trends, I would reinstate the fashion tendencies of the 1920s, with a few exceptions.

Also, I think gray, black and white looks awesome with a light, pastel orange as backdrop. Similarily, pastel yellow and pink looks good too. I wish I were a tailor.