My Tired Is Tired


So I woke up on Wednesday morning when I heard my husband and my dog coming back from the morning walk. I figured that since I work the afternoon shift, I can afford to sleep a little longer, but I had to pee like a motherfucker. So I got up and went to the bathroom, where I looked at my watch without my reading glasses and deduced that it was 8:00 a.m. I wondered how it is that I didn’t wake up earlier when my daughter does. I came out of the bathroom and looked down the hall and saw that the door of my daughter’s room was closed, which meant she wasn’t in there anymore.

I turned to my husband and said “Did you already take her to daycare?”

“No,” he answered. “You picked her up today.”


“You worked morning today. You picked her up, right?”

“No, I work the afternoon shift today…” I wasn’t really following the conversation. Something didn’t make sense, so I added. “Wait, what day are we?”

“It’s Tuesday,” he said.

“What are you talking about? What time is it?” I asked still completely out of it.

“It’s 6:00.”

“In the morning?”

“No, it’s evening!”

Usually when I work the morning shift, I finish early enough to have time to go home, sleep for an hour, then get up and go pick my daughter up from daycare. But what happened now was a classic case of George Carlin-ation. In his “Jammin in New York” stand-up show, he says: “Did you ever fall asleep in the late afternoon and woke up after dark and you don’t know what goddamn day it is?”

I was convinced it was Wednesday morning, when it was actually Tuesday evening. What I thought was my dog’s morning walk was actually her evening one. And what I saw as 8:00 was actually 18:00. And I had slept for a straight 4 fucking hours and my daughter was still in daycare. I slept through the 3 p.m. alarm that I had set. I slept through both phone calls from the lady who runs the daycare.

“Oh my God!” I gasped when it finally hit me. “Go get her NOW!” I told my husband who was already halfway out the door.

Lucky for me, my daughter was used to being at daycare until 18:00 on days when nobody can pick her up at 16:00. But it didn’t stop me from being so completely disappointed with myself.

“What in the fuck is wrong with me?” I asked after my husband came back with my daughter. It’s like the whole evening just disappeared.

I recall working the morning shift and trying to find a meme that adequately described just how fucking exhausted I was. There was nothing to do at work and I was trying to keep myself awake by shaking my hands and hitting my face. Anybody who would have seen me would have thought I was having some sort of seizure or was going crazy. I should have known that my one-hour nap would turn into a four-hour long absence of consciousness. I honestly think I quite literally passed out.


Anyway, my daughter was completely oblivious to this lapse of judgment from her mother, who was still trying to make sense of what goddamn day it is. Seriously, even after I already knew it was evening, I caught myself getting dressed for work. My mind had checked out.

And this is my punishment for being stupid. I am never taking naps again.

Peace, love and sleep is for the weak




It doesn’t matter how tired I am, if I’m busy enough at work, I don’t feel it until I leave the office. So I don’t know what happened yesterday because I was rather busy at the office but kept falling asleep. I fell asleep while writing an email, dreamt that I am still writing the email and then woke up to find the email empty. I fell asleep while updating a document. I would open the documents folder, fall asleep, then wake up, try to figure out what it was that I wanted to do, then fall asleep again.

I’m sorry if you’re falling asleep reading this post but here is where it gets exciting.

This morning I said “FUCK THIS TIRED SHIT! I slept just fine last night. So, dear bed, you’re not winning this round. No naps for this badass today.” And I proceeded to do an IZM activity!

I spent a hearty two hours organizing my entire zine inventory, including all my Fallopian Falafel issues, all my PMS issues, all random mini zines and post-its zines, all my fliers, postcards, patches, pins and assorted DIY junk. My fingers got all dusty and I felt so accomplished after that and I didn’t even feel a hint of fatigue. I hope that as the month progresses, this new order that I now have on my zine shelf will inspire me to design a catalog and maybe even write a new zine.

Now don’t get me wrong. I love sleeping. LOVE IT! But not as much as I love IZM!

Peace, love and zine is for zombies.



Those who know me well know that sleep is my most hopeless of hopeless addictions. My attempts at getting over it included waking up early to exercise, eating more raw veggies and drinking more water. Although these attempts were met with considerable success, I am still a pillow-lover extraordinaire.

My problem now is that although I love sleep, I can’t fall asleep to save my mother’s life. It takes me a good hour to an hour and a half to slumber away on a good day. On an average day, it can take up to two hours. On a really bad day, and especially if I have tea or water before bedtime, it takes me up to three hours, plus waking up to pee in one- to two-hour intervals. This is also a reason why I always turn down a cup of tea after dinner, or a glass of water after 9 p.m. even if I’m quite thirsty. I rather go to sleep on the verge of dehydration than having to wake up every hour to take a wizz (or just get up every five minutes if I haven’t managed to fall asleep yet).

Even if I am really tired (as I am now due to lack of sufficient sleep), slight distractions can keep me nice and alert for hours at a time – my husband snoring, weird sounds from the fridge or the living room sofa (don’t ask), my dog coming in to sleep next to us on the floor, and nightmares galore. Last night, my dog came to sleep with us and woke me up in the early morning hours because she was dreaming and whimpering in her sleep.

I also try various things to induce sleep: clear my mind, push away all worrying thoughts, find the most comfortable position I can, wash my face with hot water, and read, but alas. Sometimes I avoid setting the alarm if I can afford to do so. I realized that setting the alarm, especially for an afternoon nap, can keep me awake just as well. This past weekend I managed to sleep until 1:30 p.m. Such bliss!

I don’t want to resort to sleeping pills or whatever other prescription meds, but I’m running out of options.

Peace, love and sleep marathon on Passover sounds absolutely delightful

No Presents for New Year


So New Year’s is coming up, and just like any other Christian New Year I will be doing nothing. New Year’s for me is as unimportant as the Jewish New Year is to Christians. Thinking back on all the other New Years I’ve had, they were either uneventful or absolutely horrible. I’m pretty sure I wrote about this once, though I can’t remember where, so here it is again.

I don’t remember any New Year parties before Y2K, so nothing happened then.

In 2000, New Year’s eve fell on a Friday. So it was the Sabbath. I did nothing more than watching the NY ball drop on TV, expecting my computer to go up in flames and waiting for nukes to fly. Nothing happened of course and life went on as usual.

In 2001, I slept. In 2002, I slept some more. In 2003, I was up north with my boyfriend of the time, getting drunk and freezing my ass off in a cabin that had no heating. The following day I spent with my head in the toilet. In 2004, some more sleeping took place. In 2005, I wrote this post. The following years, I was in Israel (and still am) where the “Sylvester” is virtually non-existent. It’s just another day where you go to work and, while looking over your schedule for the day or writing another invoice, you realize “Oh yeah, it’s January 1st,” in a rather nonchalant tone. Same thing happens on Christmas.

There were some New Year’ses that sucked ass. Like in January 1, 2010. It was the 30-day memorial of my cousin who passed away from brain cancer. So the first thing I did that year was looking at the gravestone of an 18-year-old kid, while my grandmother was screaming bloody murder.

In 2010 to 2012, schlafen marathons galore, and maybe even some Stephen King books.

In 2013 I had a blast – namely my elbow was blasted to hell and beyond. So I spent my New Year’s at the hospital. How awesome is that?

In 2014, I was still struggling to find a date for my second surgery and Hadassah Hospital kept postponing it. And then I slept.

This year, there’s a party at Blaze, but I don’t care. I rather stay at home and get some writing done. Now that I have some time cleared, I may actually make something of myself, and celebrate New Year 2015 in the company of my typewriter, stationaries, pens and paper. Who knows, maybe I can even start a new issue of PMS!

Peace, love and January is in winter anyway so it sucks no matter what.

IZM – Day 3: Zine Distro Appreciation Day


Yesterday was Zine Distro Appreciation Day, and I haven’t written anything about it on my blog for reasons I will detail in a minute.

That day was supposed to be the day I will order a zine from a distro (and I did) but I also combined it with the activity set for July 18, i.e. order from a distro that I don’t usually order from. So I browsed the Stolen Sharpie Revolution site for various zine distros. Many seemed great but the problem was the prices for the zines and the shipping to Israel. Anytime I found an interesting zine, the price would be over $4.00 and the shipping was approximately $5.00.

Seriously? Over $9.00 for one zine? That must be one fuck of a good zine!

Anyway, I finally ordered a zine called Orange & Blue from Bottleson Thesill Distro. I’m not sure what the total price of the order will be, but at least I got the activity done.

Yesterday, I woke up at 3:30 a.m. because I had to pee like a motherfucker. And although I was tired beyond my wits, I couldn’t fall back asleep. I finally got up at 5:30 and got ready to go to Hadassah Hospital for my follow-up about my elbow. Remember, I had that fracture and the subsequent surgery and the metal implant which make my x-rays look like Terminator? Right, so I got the freaking awesome news that it’s finally over. My ulna has mended, thanks in no small part to the homeopathic treatment I’ve been taking. I have one more checkup in October with the doctors who operated on me and I’ll set a date for the surgery to remove the plate sometime around December.

Despite the great news (and the fact that it was delivered by the most amazing doctor ever, who liked my tattoos, said that playing guitar is the best physical therapy I can get, and that smoking weed once in a while is actually a good thing!) I was a freaking zombie by 11:00 a.m. that day. When I got to the office, I couldn’t concentrate on anything. Looking through zine distros made my head spin, and even reading Stephen King (Under the Dome) made me fall asleep. So I thought that maybe I’ll just continue once I get home.

But no such luck. My boyfriend’s family invited us for dinner at this fancy (very unkosher) restaurant. I had just enough time to shower and get dressed.

The food was great (shivers and gags caused by “crabs and shellfish” on the menu notwithstanding), but we made it home only at 22:00. We watched an episode of Modern Family and 6teen, and then I crashed like a plane on the barrier of the Dome. I woke up again at 3:30, but this time I managed to fall back asleep until my alarm rang at 10:30.

Yes, I slept for close to 12 hours. Hopefully that will be enough to keep me alive and alert for the stuff I have planned for tonight: Take my dog out to the park, re-read my favorite zines, and continue Under the Dome. My boyfriend also wants to go to a gig at Uganda Bar. I don’t know if I’m really up for getting dressed up, taking the bus (because the boy wants to drink), go to this heavily left-wing bar, stay sitting outside because I can’t stand the music any more than I can stand the cig smoke that will be stuffing up the place, freeze to death, and finally take a taxi back home because the busses are no longer running at that time.

So I think I’d rather stay home with my zines and my dog and Stephen King.

Peace, love and chocolate souffle. Just because.

Who Nose?


So I’ve been making some headway with my Af zine, but I’m back in sleep mode, which I don’t get much of anyway. Seriously, I woke up at 4:30 a.m. for no apparent reason and couldn’t fall back asleep. I finally got up at 6:30 and went to physical therapy to twist my elbow a bit, then back home to take out my dog and pack my lunch, then back to the center of town and work.

So evidently, this evening, I’ll get back home, tired out of my wits, plop on the sofa with a pint of ice cream and watch Blue Murder or some other lameass TV crime drama, thus resuming my lack of creative endeavor.

On a positive note, today I found a 20 NIS bill. And yesterday I got the new typewriter ink ribbon I ordered on ebay. Also, if the weather’s nice, we might hit the beach on Saturday.

So I think the inspiration is there. I don’t have much left to do to complete the zine, so if I manage to keep my eyes open during the day, and keep them shut at night, I should be done by early next week.

Peace, love and falling asleep on the half-finished zine and waking up with pieces of construction paper glued on face.

Make a Zine. Kill a Roach.


This past weekend, I finally did the 24-Hour Zine Thing. Before, while and after I was doing it, I still felt it hard to explain to people who are not familiar with the zine community exactly what this challenge entails, mainly because not many of them could imagine anything that would be exciting enough for them to actually keep them awake for a whole 24 hours.

My mom asked me if there are any prizes at the end. I said, “Well, yeah! You get a pin that you completed the challenge, an overwhelming sense of satisfaction and accomplishment, and of course, your 24-hour zine.” Clearly, that’s not what she meant. I further explained that if she’s referring to cash prizes, that goes against everything the DIY zine community stands for. “We don’t use money to fuel our creativity. We use inspiration. We create for the sake of creating.”

This, along with some healthy food and lots of cups of herbal tea, is what kept me awake and alert throughout the 24 hours. I am a sleep addict, so I actually expected it to be much harder than it was. But since I’ve prepared for this challenge for a whole year, mentally, physically and nutritionally, I managed to pull through.

I came back home from work on Thursday evening at around 6:00 p.m. I tried to sleep a little before diving into the challenge, but I didn’t sleep too well… I don’t know if it was the excitement or what. But I finally got up at 8:50, set up my working space (i.e. my bed) and started writing at 9:00.

I alternated between my typewriter, Rose, and my pen. Especially as the night grew darker and people were sleeping, I didn’t want Rose to make too much of a racket.

The writing part was really my favorite. I got into the Zone more times than I could count. And I wrote much more than I expected.

A while back, I asked the organizers of the challenge what they meant by writing a 24-page zine in 24 hours. Is that 24 double-sided pages, which really means 48 pages? Or 12 double-sided pages, which is 24? They said it’s up to me.

So when I reached the 12 double-sided pages mark, I said it’s too early and it’s too easy, so I kept writing until the 24 page mark and banged out a 48-page zine (including the cover and the table of contents).

I finished the writing part at 3:30 a.m. and took a short food break and a tea refill.

Right before I started the layout, I noticed I had no glue. I get ready for this marathon for a whole year, and I forget the glue. That’s so me… So I had to settle for scotch tape which isn’t too practical when you have layers of background and collages. But I manged to make it work.

The layout is the longest but the most creative and challenging part for me. What I also love about working on the layout is that it doesn’t require as much concentration as writing, so I can listen to music while doing it. Again, because people were sleeping, I opted for my player instead of my stereo, and skipped whatever ballads shuffled into the mix, so that they won’t put me to sleep.

I started getting tired at around 4:00 or 5:00 a.m., but that was a momentary lapse, and my tea refills helped a great deal.

At 6:30 a.m. I decided to have a light breakfast and got some rice cakes with cheese. I sat at the dining room table and took no more than two bites before noticing a movement in the corner of my eye. Turns out that not everyone was asleep at my house. I shared my voluntary insomnia spree with a cockroach.

Luckily, the roach was far enough away from me, so that instead of screaming, I started whimpering, again, with an effort to not wake up everybody else.

The roach was in the area between my roommate’s room, my room and my bathroom (we each have separate bathrooms), so the first thing I did was close my bedroom and bathroom door, and sprinted back to the kitchen area. Before it could disappear, as roaches tend to do if you turn your attention elsewhere, I quickly grabbed a bug spray, which was made especially for ants, not roaches, and sprayed the fucker while whimpering and moaning my head off.

For a moment, the roach just stood there. I later told my boyfriend that it looked like the bug was mocking me: “Seriously? I can survive a nuclear bomb and you’re trying to kill me with ant spray?” Then, it looked like it actually hit him: “Holy shit! You really are trying to kill me with it! AAAAA!!” And finally started running with its ugly bug skitter, on its creepy skinny legs, and its long tentacles and antennas and whatever other freak anatomy it possessed. It ran along the crack of my roommate’s bedroom door, noticed it is too big and fat to fit under it, ran on underneath a pile of suitcases that were stacked up in the corner, and out of sight.

I was terrified as always, but I was more pissed off than anything. Why does shit like that always happen to me? Why is it that the only roachophobic person in this apartment is the first one to spot a cockroach? Why is she the only one there, or the only one awake in this case, to struggle between freaking out and taking care of the situation, then freak out some more, wondering if an ant spray actually managed to kill a big fat ugly motherfucking roach? And for fuck’s sake, WHY NOW? Out of all the times it could have picked to land on me, why did it choose to do it smack in the middle of my 24-Hour Zine Thing time and ruin the rest of my day?

I cursed in a whisper-scream and stomped my foot like a stubborn kid.

I never quite finished my rice cake, and looked to the corner every two seconds to make sure the roach wasn’t gonna come out again.

It took me about half an hour and my utmost strength to get back into my room because I had to pass by that stack of suitcases. I finally took several deep breaths, ran like hell and slammed the door.

I got back to work, but this time, I turned down the volume on my player to keep an ear out for anyone who might wake up.

At around 8:00 a.m. I heard my roommate’s mom walk out of her room. I called out to her without opening my bedroom door, afraid that the roach would choose that exact moment to leap in through the door. I asked her to take a look in the corner under the suitcases and check if there’s a dead cockroach there. Had she not done that, I would have stayed in my bedroom until somebody would come in and find me slimmed down to a thread, with a makeshift toilet in the corner. It’s a phobia, dude. Nothing else exists when I’m in the presence of the object of my fear.

Turns out the ant spray was strong enough to kill the roach. Hurray for me. Ughhh…

I kept on working with my music, my tea and my random short food breaks. By 6:00 p.m., I started getting very tired and this time, it didn’t go away. The tea lost its power. But I managed to pull through.

By this time, I had already started designing the cover. It was the last thing I had to do. I tried different designs, and it took me about four hours to complete. I finally came up with something that pleased me, then put the finishing touches and completed the zine about 20 minutes or half an hour short of 24 hours.

I brushed my teeth and crashed for a straight 14 hours. From Friday night at 8:30 p.m. to Saturday morning at 10:20 a.m. No joke. I don’t think I’ve ever slept for that long. I woke up like a zombie with my body buzzing all over.

Soon, I will be sending my zine to the organizers of the 24-Hour Zine Thing. I hope they like it. Because, roach incident notwithstanding, I so completely and totally enjoyed that experience!

Photos of the completed zine can be viewed here.

Peace, love and yes, I am considering doing it again next year!