My Name is Moshe

I have written on this blog for over an entire year now. My first post, as I just saw, was on April 8, 2009. It’s a sad day when your blog’s birthday comes and goes and you don’t even notice it. I mean, that should be monumental, should it not? That should be something that you can tell people about, something you can...I don’t know....write out and hang up on your wall.

In other business, it has been a few weeks since I last posted, as a good friend politely mentioned to me over facebook. My humblest apologies. That last semester nearly killed me, especially towards the end there. But I got my A in chemistry, and thus I can say that I have, I feel, won the fight.

As I side note, you should all know that just the other night one of my roommates (I have switched apartments since I last posted) made a comment on how “girly” it is to have a blog. First this made me confused, then it made me laugh, and then it made me seriously question my manliness. I did a few push-ups later that night just to make sure I was keeping my edge. I figured that pretty much settles the score.

This summer is going to be a great one, that’s for sure. I’m volunteering at Wasatch Elementary a few times every week until school gets out on May 28th. Many of you know that this is also my birthday, so I guess this day will be both a plus and a minus because all of “my kids” are no longer “my kids”. I guess I will just have next Fall’s batch to look forward to. They’re adorable. They hug me when I go to leave, and I teach them Hebrew phrases like “shalom” and “ani rotze lelechet lishon”.

I’m taking Hebrew 102, the accelerated Spring Semester course. Pretty much I love the Jews. In this class, everyone is called by a different name, an Israeli name. My name is Moshe, which is Hebrew for Moses. Every morning I walk into class and tell my teacher to “let my people go.” Needless to say, she keeps refusing to listen to the God of Israel. I guess we’ll have to wait and see where this conflict is headed.

I have cleaning checks to take care of now, and I’m not excited. My roommates aren’t exactly what you would call “clean freaks”, which makes this time of the month particularly difficult. And we have ants invading our kitchen in various parts. I am utterly disgusted. And yet the management is in no hurry to call the pest control man. More than once I have picked up the sponge to clean my dishes and I’ve had to free an ant or two that have caught their legs in the fibers of the sponge. And tonight I am cleaning our kitchen with that sponge.

I shall not sleep tonight until our kitchen shines like the top of the Chrysler Building.