July 4th is for some reason a holiday I just can’t find that much to complain about. It reminds me of Oscar the Grouch’s conundrum of being angry, which makes him happy which makes him angry which makes him happy. Which makes him angry.
Anyway it’s my 1st time being in the U.S. for July 4th in 4 years. I’m more excited than usual for fireforks. I imagine myself later on tonight staring up at a lit-up sky and contemplating how much my life has changed in the last few months.
Patriotic Crises of Late:
1. I cannot take my dog anywhere in Manhattan. I feel like that song “No Dogs Allowed” from Charlie Brown’s “Snoopy Come Home” movie is on loop in the background. The song made me sad then, and it makes me sad now. I walk into a bagel shop with her in my arms and I’m greeted with frantic “no, no, no!” I am aware that I’m not the right one in this situation, but it’s just so different from what I’m used to from Tel Aviv.
2. No one just sits around at cafes and reads. Everyone’s so busy and everyone has tight schedules and you’re expected to be places on time.
3. My gut instinct is still to say “Excuse me!” in Hebrew when I bump into someone. It’s really embarrassing and it makes me feel really awkward just to be around myself in the few seconds immediately afterwards. Thankfully it rarely registers in the other person.
4. I do really love not having to use the words “B’seder” at all. I absolutely cannot stand that phrase for some reason. Mostly because of the “r” sound at the end, which is physically and emotionally impossible for an American, in my opinion, to make without sounding like a huge tool. It means “OK” but Israeli’s use it as a response to “What’s up?”, which doesn’t make sense in English. Thankfully I’m not having that debate anymore with anyone.