Alice in Wonderland or Notes from a Christmas Party

On Friday we had the annual Winter/End of Another Great Year/Christmas Party.

Here are some of my observations from that party:

1. At the bar, while waiting for a bartender to serve us, some girls, who made so much effort in order for them to look astonishing that evening, started drinking the leftovers from the glasses that were left on the bar, while trying to keep stable and balanced (unsuccessfully). Did I mention that we had to pay for our drinks this year? Does the word Recession rings a bell?

2. When I was dancing with my Croatian (girl)friend, the guy who was dancing next to us started bumping into us whilst dancing (pretty hard!) just in order to make a pass at us. I was just ignoring him. Some might think of me as a snob or antisocial. However, I do think that he could just start dancing with us or start (some kind of) a conversation. Just say something (you can call me old fashioned if you like). Anything. Even a weather talk works here, it's Ireland for Christ's sake. The weather is always interesting. It's much more dynamic than working in Google. Seriously! You may also say something about the DJ and the band if you like.
Anyhow, at some point my friend started dancing with him for a while. All this while, by the way, they just said nothing. Except for apologizing every time he bumped. That's the only thing that came out of this guy's mouth the whole time I was around.
I'm abandoning my Anthropological duty for a moment just to make an opinion: What an odd way to come on to girls...

3. An Israeli girl was dancing all night with a Swedish guy who had the most original ,I must say, opening line: "Hi, I'm Sven and I'm Swedish. Since I'm Swedish I support the Palestinians".

4. A married guy held hand and hugged his colleague every time I bumped into them. The morning after the party I came across him and his family (wife and daughter) catching a taxi. That's what happens when living in the Google ghetto...

5. A young guy was happily dancing (in my opinion, he was the cutest drunk in the party), shouting: "Wawawiwa". Yes, just like Dova'le Glickman in Zehu Ze. Apparently, he was imitating Burat (Sasha Baron Cohen, remember?), who was saying it in the movie 'Burat'. We were also dancing together, for a while, until we hit a girl with drink. He then became serious for a moment, apologizing to her (and so did I). After a whole minute we were expressing our deepened apologies to the unfortunate situation, I just disappeared in the crowed.
It all happened, by the way, due to the temporary lose of his sense of space. Although I was very sober and tried not to dance like we had the whole dance floor to ourselves, it was rather difficult with a partner who does believe so... I assume it also looked very funny to other observers. Were there others like me? The only one I can think of is the guy who doesn't need to consume alcohol in order to have fun.

6. The girls who did everything they could in order to look astonishingly beautiful and fabulous that night, wend home looking like a wreck. Some were sitting on the side-walk, ruining their fancy Cocktail (may I say Oscar?) dresses when going out to have a smoke, others looked like (rather unstable and unbalanced) zombies. I remember one girl at the elevator had her boob out of her dress and it was her friend who noticed this and fixed her dress in order to cover it. It didn't seem the girl even noticed neither her exposed breast nor her friend's gesture.

To summarize my experience:
I'm happy I got the chance to be in such a party, since it's probably will be the last one. Felt like Student's party, just that they tried to act like adults but it didn't really work out for them nor turned out the way they expected.

I also feel much better for feeling that I don't belong sometimes. Sometimes I really don't want to belong to some of the above.

And I can also have fun without consuming alcohol. I actually did prefer the gorgeous Éclairs. I had some whenever I had the chance. God, I had so many...

My Favourite 2008 Christmas TV Ad

Ahhhhhh... Christmas brings out the best of everything and everyone!

Even myself! Feels like I'm a completely different person after this ad shows on TV. It usually happens at the gym and I become too chatty and all smiles afterwards, and if you know me good enough you know I'm usually not!

By the way, it's all about the song. I ignore that gimmicky baby...
And you should look for their 2007 one as well!

Common People, Part I

" ... I want to live like common people
I want to do whatever common people do
I want to sleep with common people
I want to sleep with common people like you
Well what else could I do?
I said I'll see what I can do

I took her to a supermarket ..."

Well, the supermarket in Israel is a nice anthropological experience and I'd love to share this kind of experience with you someday. However, you can also go the ministry of interior. Or take the bus. Or just go to the doctor if you prefer:

A man with a tracing bracelet on his ankle enters the clinic. His name is Dror Ohana [yes, just like one of the known mafia families in Israel]. He brings along his ugly little dog, cheeco. Hanit, the receptionist, asks him to keep his dog outside of the clinic, since dogs are not allowed. Dror Ohana wants to see the dermatologist [this bracelet must have given him a rash…]. Hanit explains that he's fully booked for today and over the next few weeks he's on vacation. It makes Dror Ohana pretty angry that he cannot see the doctor today and wonders out loud: "I can't understand, why on earth is the doctor going on vacation when so many people must see him?!" [if only I knew, I would have given up my GP appointment and go to the dermatologist as well!]

Then he calls the information center asks for an appointment with the nearest dermatologist. He also puts the phone on loudspeaker, of course, while he was waiting [I believe it’s highly uncomfortable o use his mobile as a handset]. He pays no attention to Hanit, who demands he would not make these calls here or at least not on speaker. And since cheeco was still inside the clinic, she added that this is not the place for dogs!
But Dror Ohana says that no one could watch after cheeco, so he had to bring him along. Also, he cannot be left outside, unaccompanied! Then he adds: “Besides, if you were willing to help me and let me in today, I wouldn't have done that. This is all your fault so stop complaining!”

While Dror Ohana is holding [the information call center. remember?], Cheeco is chewing his lace, tearing it, and now he's free to wander around the clinic. Dror Ohana is still on the phone, but now he’s speaking to a representative who's trying to schedule an appointment for him [with another dermatologist. Remember?]. When he's done, he loudly asks all the people in the clinic: “Where is Ezorey Hen?”
Everybody is staring at him, but nobody answers.
“Where is Ezorey Hen? Nobody knows?!”

The receptionist asks him again to take the dog outside of the clinic. But then Dror Ohana discovers that Ezorey Hen is too far for him and he doesn't know how to get there, so he has to call again, to shout at the representative and schedule an appointment to another closer dermatologist.

After taking out his anger on the current representative, he gets a new appointment, to another dermatologist, who’s not on a vacation when most people need to see him!

Then Dror Ohana turns to cheeco, discovering the torn lace. “You ate your lace again?! Why? It’s a new one, bought it yesterday! You bad dog, this cost me 20 Shekels! OK, let’s go, Hanit doesn’t like us and don’t want us here.”

And then Dror Ohana, Cheeco, the ankle and the bracelet left the clinic and things became quite boring again.

Couldn't ask for better friends - I love you R4!!!

Using this platform to thank all my friends here in Google Ireland who organised some amazing birthday surprises. This years birthday is definitely the winner in my Best Birthday at Work category.

So thanks again.

By the way, I'm not mentioning names since I'm certain I'll forget few.

Back to civilization?

My holiday in Israel is over. That's the first time I was actually a visitor in my homeland. It definitely is a good feeling.

At the moment I'm at the airport, reminding you I'm still alive (even though I met most of you while visiting in Israel).

But I'm not going back to civilization. I wouldn't call Ireland a civilized country. No, it's a 3rd world country.

So, this post is to ask you to stay tuned for some updates and my newest adventures in the holy land.

The Fragile Relationship Between a Dutchman and his Jacket

It was early in the morning. Too early to have more than 2 people at the 6th floor. One of them is me. The other is...

A dutch guy comes to work. Since he's working in Dublin, he has to wear a jacket, even though it's pretty much late July.

When he gets to his desk, he takes off his jacket. Since he has just moved to his new desk on this new floor, he looks around at the empty chairs around him. He spots an empty chairs, he heads towards it, then places his jacket nicely over it.

A little while later, a Turkish guy (it almost sounds like the Israeli, Arabic and American jokes) enters the floor, and stops next to the chair where the jacket rigidly lays. Imagine how surprised the Dutch man was (as a matter of fact, almost as surprised as the Turkish), while rushing to grab a hold on his precious jacket before the Turkish sits on the chair and ruin its perfect ironing!

This scene was repeating itself every morning for several days, different chairs, however. Until one day I noticed that he actually was brave enough to abandon his jacket on the nearest coat hanger. aaagh!

What about me? I'm just the Israeli girl who came to work quite early during those days and had the opportunity to witness these amusing events (to my humble opinion).

Dear Ex-Landlord!

You better don't mess with me, my blog and my SEO-Expert friends!
Don't let me use these resources in order to get back what was mine to begin with.

Sincerely yours,
Denya

The New Kid on the Block

According to a certain taxi driver, Yael is about to have a new neighbour.

Here's how I found out about this mysterious neighbour:

Elie: ohhh... I forgot to tell you

guess who's going to be my neighbour?

denya: whos your neighbour?

gingi?

Elie: better

so much better....

denya: cmon???

Elie: colin farrell

or however you write it

A Time for a Change

The day I wake up and ask myself what have I done with my life, has arrived.

Years ago, I was thinking to myself what I'm going to do and be when I'm older. Today's answer is not exactly what I expected it to be back then.

At the moment it doesn't matter what I believe I should be doing or what the main purpose of my life should have been. The important thing is that I blame my parents. For growing up in a city. Why? Well, for example I blame them for running in my schools stadium, when I should have ran on hills and mountains.

Why is it important that I blame my parents? Probably since everything I am now, profession wise, is what they expected me to be. Now that I have realised this, I can actually do something about it. Be what I expect myself to be.

Starting tomorrow. Just because I'm so tired and want to clean all my mess from the last few weeks, and then go to sleep. I need to be early at work tomorrow, so I can go and see some flats. Yes, moving to a different apartment, again...

How not to Write, Part II

Apparently, some haven't read, nor implement, my How not to Write lesson from last June.

I wonder, though, how long does someone have to live in the US, illegally of course, without knowing how to spell EUROPEAN...



In the picture you can see Ellen, our expert copywriter, pointing the fatal mistake. It is fatal, taking into consideration nobody have stop this from becoming a big sign alongside one of the main roads in Las Vegas.

By nobody, I mean the copywriter (he he he... yeah right. The copywriter of this sign was probably the grandfather of the owner, still living in Israel, who probably doesn't know how to spell his own name in Hebrew, not to mention English), the designer, the company which print the sign and probably others as well.

At least they had a great OrangeNana juice - orange juice and Limonana barad. Yum yum! Seriously! I had 2 (and had my reasons :-)

And please, don't be caught in my next How not to Write.

All These Years of Watching Animal Planet are Finally Paying Off!

While I was preparing to go to bed (I know it's quite early, but you should give me some credit. As someone who's jet lagging at the moment, I'm doing quite well), I spotted a creature with a very big tail out the window, at our parking lot.
Knowing it too big to be our neighbour's cat, I realized it's actually a fox. Yes, fox. Like the bad cunning fox in Pinocchio and Nils Holgersen.
This fox is the second one I got to see. The first one was in the Dunes of Rishon Lezion. It was quite a shabby one. But the one I saw tonight seemed to be real British beautiful fox. It was Awe-inspiring :-)

Unfortunately the fox went towards the road, so I didn't get the chance to even try and look closer.

So, I felt the urge to tell you as Dan didn't seem to be so impressed... Not as much as I was. Or at least expected.

And now I'll go to bed. Goodnight!

Live from Terminal 1, Las Vegas Intl. Airport

Unfortunately, my holiday is over.

Ellen dropped me at the airport, and I have 30 mins till my flight to San Francisco. Then I'll have few more hours before the flight to Ireland. That's ghetto!

I slept less than 4 hours, as yesterday we went to see the Phantom of the Opera in the Venetian. It was amazing! Then we went gambling. we lost $20. Responsible gambling, he he he...

Long story short, I had wonderful time, Both in San Francisco and Las Vegas. Both amazing cities, yet very different.
The first is somewhat surrounded by the ocean and the latter is surrounded by desert mountains and I cannot even find the words (in English) that can describe the respect (or Yer-a, in Hebrew) it makes me feel. That's such a simple word to explain such an amazing thing, But I really cannot come up with the words. Maybe I'll ask Ellen soon, or she can comment and explain. She's good with words, as we all know.

Anyway, It's almost boarding time, so I'll publish this rough draft of a post, apologies for any spelling mistakes that you might encounter :-)


By the way, this is the Red Rock Canyon, outside of Las Vegas. Amazing, isn't it?

Live from Terminal 5!

Girls with bike are evil!

Disclaimer: Apologies, dear Irish friends, this has nothing against you, but the great service we all experience everywhere, here in Ireland. I've had enough :-) as well!

This is one of my latest adventures in the DART, Dublin Area Rapid Transit, or in other words - the Dublin suburban train. It happened last Saturday, and it still makes me angry when I think of it, so I decided to share it with you.

I was supposed to take my bike (bicycle, not a motorbike) from our offices' parking lot, since other employees who are cycling into work daily are having great difficulty in finding a parking spot.

The only way I can do that is by: 1. Cycling home. On a fair day it should take me about 1.5-2 hours. I live about 20km away from the city center, and have to carefully share the roads with the crazy Irish drivers. By the way, not too long ago I was informed that 50% of the accidents are actually caused by a certain East-European country's citizens, that Dublin (also Ireland) is flooded with.
2. Since the weather's crappy in the last few months (It's still winter here, you know) - the other option is taking it home on the DART. Therefor, not too long ago, I asked the cashier whether it is possible, and he told me that basically it is not allowed, but on weekends it shouldn't be a problem, especially late evening hours.

So last Saturday was I had the perfect opportunity to take it home on the DART. It was after 22:00, the trains are usually empty those hours, because everybody's in the Pub already. So I unlocked the bike, took it to the deserted train station, and about to go towards the platform, but, alas, there were 3 security guys, preventing me from doing so. So I started to argue with one of them, who was very much willing to help... with finding another solution for me taking the bike back home to Howth... He was also calling the bus company in order to check whether I can take it on the bus. But unless it's a folded bike, the answer is no.

Then he suggested that if it was another train station, say, a more deserted one, it could be possible. Then I suggested to go to Lansdown Road, and he said it would be perfect.

So I put on my helmet, vest, lamps, and I was driving there so fast and I made it in 4 mins (should take 7 usually). But then there was someone in the ticket office... And he was talking like a robot, repeating himself the way only Irish service providers know. I argued again, of course. Didn't help. Did I mention it was cold outside, raining and I didn't have my bicycle gloves?

So I had to ride back to the work, lock the bike, and make it to the train in 8 mins, unless I felt like waiting for the next one, 45 mins later. Which wasn't that bad, I could just sit on the massage chair and read a book. but I was so cold and wet...

The most difficult part was locking the bike, since my fingers were frozen, I could hardly do that, and till now I can't remember how good I locked it and if it's still there. But I'm quite sure it's still there.

I made it just on time, running to the platform in order to get on the train that just arrived, and get home as soon as possible and take a very hot shower.

I was sitting there for few mins until I could breath properly. Then I was looking around me, at the people I was sharing the carriage with. Then I noticed 2 guys in front of me, very loud speaking and drinking. From big bottles of vodka and something else that seemed more likely to be scotch rather than beer or wine.

Later on few teenagers got on the carriage, each is carrying his/her own six packs, and drinks from another can or bottle of some other alcoholic drink.

And that is the lesson of this experience: having drunk people on the train is soooo much safer than having a bike in it.

Until the train driver has to stop it for 20 mins and wait for the Garda (Police) to come and evacuate a drunk who's causing trouble on the train and refused to get of it.

Well, as I mentioned before, my new year resolution was to post my blog once a week. It's quite obvious it's far from happening. Therefor, tonight I'm not going to sleep before posting a new post.

I recall a short story about a drunk lady I still owe my fans. So Here's how it goes:

Disclaimer: The story is not about a real lady. It was actually about a drunk scumbag. A female drunk scumbag.

Once upon a time I entered a supermarket. I picked up a basket and accidentally it touched a lady that just left the place. It hardly touched her, so I said I was 'sorry', and thought that was it. But then I noticed that the lady was holding her elbow like she cannot make any movement. then she said to me in a whiny tone that is a direct result of that lady's lifestyle and passion for alcohol and intoxicating drinks as well as the misfortune life she has: "I an laimmm for thaaa".
I didn't really understand what she was trying to say for the first time. Nor the second. But eventually I understood she actually said: "I can claim for that!"
Since she already reminded me of Baldrick, I just tried to sound firm yet nonchalant while glancing at her, saying: "Sod-off!"

Sorry, Baldrick for the awful comparison. You are absolutely an angle comparing to that supposedly, above mentioned lady.

C.O.P.S or Shotrim ve Ganavim

This post is dedicated to Christian (Pezzini), a Blogger specialist that made Blogger available in Hebrew! Hooray!
He actually told me he pushed the Blogger localization into Hebrew so I can blog in Hebrew. How sweet! I broke his heart, by the way, by telling him I prefer blogging in English.

Christian was very disappointed that I haven't posted since the beginning of December. So when we were on the train on our way home, I told him that I had many ideas on what to write about, and showed him my small notebook I always have in my bag. I started reading and explaining my notes on what to write about and he was impressed by the Hebrew letters. Eventually I promised him that during the weekend I'll write about the Gardai and the drunk/junky greedy lady.

Sooo, you probably wonder how do policemen and policewomen (Gardai) day looks like. Here's a quick glance:

Talk on your mobile. As much as you can. You probably think to yourself: what's so interesting about that??... Patience, there's more.

Give instructions to turists that lost their way in the huge city of Dublin.

Ask homeless beggars not to beg for money on the streets. After the gardai are gone, the beggars go back to their corner, begging for money again. From what I understood, the gardai can do nothing more, even though an Irish friend told me that once he witnessed a gardai took one of the beggar's money. Keep reading, and you can get a clue on what the gardai could possibly do with that money.

While walking next to the exit of the parking lot of one of Dublin's biggest malls, there were 2 gardai directing the traffic. It probably was essential to have 2 gardai, for 1 line of cars. Did I mention there was a traffic light on the exit of the mall's parking lot? Yes, it was working that day.

This story is about a friend that lost his wallet, lets call him Conall (which is the Gaelic for Connell and means Strong as a Wolf. Approx pronunciation: Chonnell.Pronounced like the Hebrew word for parking as in the sentence 'He is Parking' + L). He's not Irish, though.
One day Conall lost his wallet. He got a call from the gardai, telling him that his wallet was found and given to them in order to give it back. He was asked to come to a specific Garda station.
Conall went to this specific Garda station, but no one knew what he was talking about.

You might think they have a kind of 'Lost and Found' dept, which makes a lot of sense. But they don't. Here's how it goes when someone finds a wallet, for example:
The concerned citizen goes to the nearest Garda station, and hands in the wallet.
I don't remember who suppose to locate and contact the owner, but I do know that the officer on duty is responsible for the found wallet. There's no lost and found thing and he doesn't have to report about the found wallet, nor hand it to anyone or anywhere. As far as he's concerned, he can keep it in his locker and forget about it (or not ;-) and let no one know about it, and do whatever he wants with it.

So Conall kindly asking the officer to investigate who has got his wallet. A quick (my addition, DB) investigation revealed that the day the wallet was handed, the officer in charge was a Kevin. But there's no Kevin in this specific Garda. So they were trying to locate the Kevin in other Gardas. Apparently there's only one Kevin in the near by Gardas. But the Kevin said that he has no idea about the lost and found and lost again wallet.

Until today, poor Conall knows absolutely nothing regarding the fate of his beloved wallet.
He did find out, though, that it was found by a neighbour. He saw one of the neighbours few days after losing the wallet, and that he told him that he found his wallet on the corridor, and since he couldn't recognize him (Conall and the neighbour never met before) he handed the wallet to the police.

I'll end this long post with a 4 short paragraphs of a daily newspaper article. Another amusing (to my opinion) Garda tale, beginning with 'Before Christmas...' (just double click the image).




Since this post is too long, I'll tell you about the drunk/junky greedy lady(yeah, right, lady. He he he) next time.

The Weirdest Thing Ever

Today, 13:00, gym showers.

After taking a shower I bent to take the socks I left under the bench, and found only 1! I asked the girl next to me: Am I imagining or do I really see one sock only?

She confirmed: One sock only…

So one of my socks has disappeared today from the gym showers.

It’s even weirder than the slice of cheese disappeared from my sandwich in high school.