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After bagels with the familia (OMG, when will they leave the house?!) I went to see Harry Potter with my 13 and 15 year old brothers and one of my younger moron cousins who hasn't read the book and kept asking me annoying questions throughout the movie because he didn't get it. Here be spoilers. And anger. )


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I've got bunchy tons of fic to write. Thankfully, my muse has woken up from her coma and maybe I'll be able to start writing again. If I promised you a story, don't fret, it's coming.

I think.

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Latest news and notes from my life:
~ I finished my fic! I finished my fic! Sorry, I just can't believe I don't have to work on it anymore. *happy dance*
~ My movie watching life: last night I watched Annie Hall with my best friend (we were underwhelmed) and tonight I watched Forrest Gump with two of my brothers and my sister (liked it a lot). It followed my miserable yesterday and my much improved today.
~ Anyone realize how uber-adorable Fred Savage and Danica McKellar were in the first season of The Wonder Years?
~ My mom is cooking brisket for the bar mitzvah and it weirdly smells like brownies.
~ I had driving hours scheduled yesterday, but I realized I needed to cancel them because I totally suck at driving and need more practice before I get into the car with an intimidating instructor. So I called and left a message when they didn't pick up. Then I called again to make sure that they got the message. Now, whenever the receptionist lady picks up the phone, she has no idea who I am. She asks my name a bunch of times every...single...time I call. But this was even worse  because I had JUST left a message. Apparently I am not really memorable.
~ I am an unashamed U.S. history GODDESS!! I got a 5 on my AP and a 790 on my SAT II. If you don't know what that means: trust me, it's good. :-D
~ Those of you who read my massive Israel touring post might remember the Af Al Pi Chen Maritime Museum. While the material was interesting, whoever did the translations was a total MORON (misspellings all over the place, e.g. "they lunched the ship" instead of "they launched the ship". After a while, I couldn't even look at the signs anymore. So my abba (for the newcomers to my journal, that's my dad) wrote me a draft of an email to the curator/director to see if they wanted me as a volunteer to rewrite the signs for them. We'll see what happens.
~ The director of camp must have her certificate of idiocy hidden somewhere, because even though we can't find it, it definitely exists. There's a girl at camp who's seriously allergic to peanuts, can't even breath the same air. Director goes to get challah bread and EVERY WEEk she gets bread that says QUITE CLEARLY that it contains traces of peanuts and tree nuts. HOW MUCH OF AN IDIOT CAN YOU BE?! She also bought popsicles that contained peanuts. And then she gets on her calm and reasonable voice when she's telling the parents that they have to check all the packaging on the food they send with their kids. She just makes me want to....GLARG!
~ I really want email. It's unhealthy how much I do.
~ I watched the pilot episode of Dark Angel. Michael Weatherly was hot. The flashbacks kinda freaked me out. I'm on the fence. Anyone have an opinion to push me over?

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I've been using my "life is pain" one more and more lately. That means my mood is not good.

Nothing is actually wrong. My kids all waved to me when I went on lunch break which was really nice and I got to spend my whole morning making thank you cards for the community helpers who came to camp for a visit (the kids wrote their names on hearts and I got to make foldy pop-up things for them) instead of interacting with children.

The real reason I'm angry is because my DAMN STORY will NOT FREAKING COME OUT and it's PISSING ME OFF. Will someone promise me a present if I finish by tomorrow? I really want one and perhaps bribery will work.
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It is yesterday, around 1:15. I am making tuna noodle casserole and snickerdoodles to celebrate the end of my finals. The TV is on, but on one is watching. My mother comes home and goes in to the living room. "Why is there a guy with a yarmulke (skullcap) on TV?" Her voice is panicked. She can see him in the background of a news broadcast. My brother and I rush in. We think something might have happened in Israel. Maybe someone blew up another bus or a restaurant). But no. It happened in our country. I get even more panicked; it happened in Washington. The eighth graders from my school always go on a trip there; a friend of mine was just telling me how much she misses her sister when she's away. The guy giving the press conference has very little information. He keeps saying that he'll check up on everything. All we know is that a guard was wounded and was taken to GWMed.

I found out later that he died.

I love that guard. I love what he stood for; I love what he did. I love that out of everything he could have done, he chose to protect a place of sanctity, a place of mourning, a place of remembrance.

With the Holocaust Museum, we promised not to forget. But what of the people who have never remembered? I do not understand how people can turn their backs on clear, obvious and brutal evidence. At my school, when you take Jewish History class, five months of study are devoted solely to the Holocaust. We analyzed documents and watched movies and saw photos. The Nazis documented everything- they were planning to make their own museum to remember that "extinct race of Jews." How can someone ignore that?

My grandfather was born in Romania in 1927. He and his family were marched out of their home and taken to a labor camp in the region of Transnistria. It is now called the Romanian Auschwitz or the Romanian killing field. He survived through the amazing work of a man called Siegfried Jagendorf (Think of him as a Romanian Schindler). He got his mother and brother through by befriending a cook and getting extra eggs and potatoes. His father was killed in a labor accident. We don't know where he is buried. Years later, my great-uncle visited his home town. He saw his house. He went next door; a neighbor who had been alive at the time still lived there. He asked her "What happened to the Jews here?" "They just left one day," she replied. On the way out, he saw his parents' grandfather clock in her dining room.

I guess people have been turning a blind eye to the Holocaust for years. I just wish we could make them see.

Perhaps I am personalizing the issue, but I feel that it is personal. When someone makes a violent attack against what I stand for, it is personal.

This summer, I'm visiting Israel for the third time. Yad Vashem, the Israeli Holocaust Museum, was closed for renovations during my first trip. We were only able to drive through the grove of trees that surrounds it; that alone made me cry. Each tree (and there are rows and rows of them) represents a "righteous gentile," a non-Jewish person who risked their life to help Jews during the Holocaust. It should not have been a risk for Steven Tyrone Johns to go to work. He should not have had to be a righteous gentile.

I do not think I will sleep well tonight.
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Found this on [livejournal.com profile] thewillow's journal: the-willow.insanejournal.com/877286.html
I think this would be horrifying for ANYONE to read. It is especially horrifying to me, as a sister of a person with Down syndrome (my second to youngest brother).  My family was and is blessed with an AWESOME community and group of teachers and specialists. The thought that people could treat other people that way, that they could treat CHILDREN that way, makes me violently ill. It hurts me to think that now, today in 2009, people are still so uneducated, so disrespectful and so uncaring. Go read goddamn Dr. Suess: A person's a person, no matter how small. And if people still think that this treatment of human beings with special needs can be tolerated, than I am honestly afraid for the future.

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