August | 2007 | NOT KEEPING SCORE 2007 August | Taking no prisoners. Including herself.

August, 2007

Virtually on Vacation — Day (24/)Seven

08.31.2007 by Shannon

Freelancing abroad in the Holy Land for 18 days

WHAT? I can’t hear you over the wailing Hindi music!

Yes, I know. Anyone who has visited NKS in the past week, (perhaps surreptitiously while at work with the volume up) — I apologize. But look: I finally figured out how to turn off the auto-play on my stylish music widget (check sidebar; press play to hear little orange guy spin).

…I’m tinkering around.

Yes I’m on ‘vacation’. I’m also at work. The thing is, I have to learn asap the DL on php etc. + more idk b4 eow b/c i’m wrkng 4 a 2.0 comp. ok? btw sms = chpr in UK&ME + my il. mins. = ltd. so ive got use 2 txting. (Anyone who knows me well will know this is not something I do willingly. Grammar is a beautiful thing.)

Speaking of grammarless enterprises, check out Zlango, a company that is attempting to replace txt orthography with a universal sms symbol language. Aside from comments I might have, as a naming consultant, about the name, the premise is beautiful — create a “revolutionary new way of globally communicating in our ever-evolving, multi-lingual world” (that’s not their slogan, I’m just in copywriting mode).

However — as idealistic as that is, tell me that trying to find the different little symbols in their UI (again: witholding design commentary) isn’t as slow as typing out the whole damn message?

And when you’re online checking them out, why not take a peek at this: Out Of Town, a series of “webisodes” by Flavorpill and sponsored by Redkin. It’s a nice product promotion idea — get people to watch your Simple Life meets Real World and then watch a commercial at the end. My only beef (aside from the fact that they don’t have a San Francisco edition I can apply for) is that the “Urban Experiment” tagline says first “Don’t follow. Initiate.” and then quickly urges you to “Be part of it.” Ah, the joys of contradictory culture generating.

Okay. So I’ve been online a lot lately. Like I said — I’m tinkering around. (If you hadn’t already noticed the painfully pixelated masthead picture…place holder, I promise.) I’m trying to keep up with the Web 2.0 kids, alrighty? While working in Israel for just such a company, I’ve been wet with “media-rich,” “social-networking,” “sharing platform,” “widgets-embedded,” “micro-portal,” “online presence” harah (pardon my Hebrew).

Which reminds me: when I travel I like to post word/phrase sections on whatever language is being spoken. But Hebrew, which has no vowels and has to be interpreted in-context, is much like sms: For a non-native speaker it is difficult to write, impossible to read, and has the usefulness over English in only a very small sphere.*

*To my Israeli hosts: I love your language like I love your hummos — heartily. Bevakasha: no offense taken? Toda. Shalom.

Category Brands/Trends, Location-Location, This Modern Life | Tags: | 1 Comment
Request a’ Souvenir!

08.27.2007 by Shannon
Although I’ve surrendered to the notion that Not Keeping Score is little more than an online account of the tediums of a silly California girl’s adventures — I’m determined to make this blog a more interactive one. Why? Because I get tired of entertaining myself.

So, in the spirit of interaction, I’m asking my Dear-Darling Readers (that’s you) to request a souvenir — from typical to odd-ball — which I will obtain and personally deliver to you. Post a comment telling me what your heart most desires from Israel, Vietnam and/or China.

Requests already made are:
- The wailing wall, a prostitute, communist ideals.
- Absynth, snake wine, a peasant.
I’m on it!
Category Location-Location | Tags: | 4 Comments
Herziliya Pituach – Day Five & Six

08.24.2007 by Shannon

Freelancing abroad in the Holy Land for 18 days

I’ve left Tel Aviv and moved into my little temporary flat in Herziliya Pituach, a beach town that feels like it belongs in San Diego. The woman who is renting me the flat – Margalit – is an older Israeli woman and talks as much with her hands as with her mouth. She always invites me in for coffee and is constantly bringing me fruit & vegetables. She and her husband Jacob — who loves Hebrew soap operas and more often than not answers the door without a shirt — have taken very good care of me (“we adopt you!”) thus far.

It’s nice to feel like I have someone looking out for me — Everyday I’m either getting lost, encountering a language barrier despite the universality of English, or trying to figure out why the hell I’m here.

I’ve finally gotten knee deep into work; the always-on-call is a little rough (work a 9-5; then U.S. boss wants to collaborate on SF time, which is my night).

Although I’ve already made some great friends, every once in awhile it becomes blatantly apparent that I’m in Israel alone.

Needless to say, takes its toll.

* * *

It was my third attempt to get home via public transit (first time I took the wrong bus; second time I missed the train station and took the bus 45min. to the next town).

I had been working all day inside (rather than, say, lounging at the beach in the 90* heat) and by 9pm I was tired, hungry and cranky.

Sitting at a falafal joint, while I sat waiting for my hummos plate, I noted (once again) the beautiful skinny waitresses, all with perky boobs and relaxed smiles (Israel is full of gorgeous tall women with upper arms the size of my wrist).

At first I wanted to grab my pita — pronto — and head back to my flat to sulk. I figured I would do some solo yoga, and call it a night.

But then I woke myself up — sha-LOM — and realized I was in Israel for gosh sake, why am I not employing the Golden Rule of Travel: “When in Rome…”

Now, don’t tell my boyfriend, mother, or yoga teacher this, but I didn’t finish my dinner, bought a pack of cigarettes*[1], and decided to take a night walk by myself through the town to the beach.

It was a beautiful thing.

It was past 10:30pm on a Monday and everyone was out — families, couples, tourists walked the sandy pathways from the restaurants to the water.

I felt invisible and wonderful, and suddenly okay at being alone.

To see my night photos click here or restart the slideshow below

*[1] This author does not typically smoke nor does she condone the act.
Cigarettes were for experiential purposes only. “I did not inhale.”

Category Location-Location | Tags: | 2 Comments
Get it Straight – Day Three & Four

08.21.2007 by Shannon

Freelancing abroad in the Holy Land for 18 days

Body milk is not soap – that’s shower cream. Or a cream bar. “Milk” is lotion but a lotion is “cream” (i.e. sun cream) – unless it’s just lotion.

Despite what you’re thinking, the Shaver2000 is a blow-dryer, and the AirJet is a water faucet.

Yes, that is shredded carrot in your marmalade, and grounds in your coffee. Coffee? or black coffee? Israeli coffee? Or Arabic coffee? Or Turkish coffee? All the same. You take a little cream? Oh, so you don’t want coffee – you want a cappuccino.

Yeah — of course bombs are bad, no: you never say bomb. Pagaz? is a tank bomb — yeah, this means something very good.

A Sharut is called a cab, but a cab is not a Sharut — that’s a taxi-cab. The Sharut is a mini-bus. But the bus is none of these. And you needed to get on #26, which just left.

Category Location-Location | Tags: | 5 Comments
Working Israel – Day Two

08.20.2007 by Shannon

Freelancing abroad in the Holy Land for 18 days

Neve Tsedek
Saturday afternoon I managed a walk to Nafal Tel-Aviv, Israel’s (much more classy) version of San Francisco’s Pier 39. (Travel Tip #1: don’t walk for miles in nearly 90 degree weather with cheap-ass sandals on)

Ariel was having a birthday celebration that night and invited me along. Sure! Relax! Chill out over a brewsky!

At 19:30 he, his girlfriend Lee, and a girl named Heather picked me up from my hotel. We headed for a little cafe with roof bar in Neve Tsedek — the charming (!hundreds of years!) old neighborhood with narrow winding streets and bougainvillea pouring over every clay wall.

I felt a little underdressed in my jeans and simple shirt; the two girls had on shortshortshort dresses and jewelry. “Nah! This is casual,” they assured me.

Everyone there was a metaphorical (or literal) super-star, and everyone there was Beautiful People: Ariel is partner at the branding agency, Lee is a singer and her band is being courted by a French Sony Record agent. Heather works in music managing Israeli bands — and, oh yeah, she’s a lawyer, too. (She graduated from Law School when she was 20 and decided she’d like to go into music instead). There was singer / songwriter guy and his beautiful pregnant wife, and an (apparently) famous Israeli singer turned actress who kept getting requests for her signature all night.

Good thing I understood the language, otherwise I would have really felt alienated…

…oh, whoops.

I say this without any real animosity, however — although I’d spend half-an-hour at a time conversationless, Hebrew flying around me like phlemy pita wafers — everyone was friendly; Heather was even kind enough to speak English to me now and again.

But my silent patience somehow paid off. By the time Lee and Ariel dropped me off at my hotel, I’d managed to schedule a playdate to go shopping, get my hair done, take a yoga class, and go see a band — all within 20 hours of touching down in Israel.

I emailed my boss in SF and told him I wouldn’t be able to work — I’m too busy being on vacation.

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Tel Aviv – Day One

08.18.2007 by Shannon

Freelancing abroad in the Holy Land for 18 days

Woke up at 6 to an already hot, hazy morning. The sun was rising over Tel Aviv, and the air smelled like wet clay. Dove-like birds chirped to my right, flitted around the rooftops and water towers at various buildings. Bits of deep green trees poking out between street openings which lay silent.

I made myself a cup of instant coffee, took the elevator down to the lobby, and discovered a breakfast spread like I’ve never seen before: watermelon, apples, grapes and some sort of bloated water-plum (delicious); feta cheese, mozzarella cheese, jack (?) cheese, brie, whipped goat cheese, cottage cheese and another cheese I couldn’t begin to describe; dill-cucumber-yogurt, tahini with something green, mayonnaise salad, “Israeli salad” (sliced tomato, cucumber, onion) and 3 kinds of salad-salad; pickled whitefish, salted herring and tuna; radish, jicima, tomatoes (cherry, sliced, and whole) and shredded carrot; 6 kinds of cereal, yogurt, granola, milk, fresh orange juice, grapefruit juice, tea and coffee.

THEN, on a separate table: 6 kinds of bread (sliced wheat, challah, loaves of rye, whole nut, french…etc.); walnuts, raisons, dried apricots, “figs” (which are tough mf-ers and will kick your ass if you think you can pry the flesh away from the pit); apple strudel, a pea-carrot-corn quiche, some raison cream thing that was like cheesecake for breakfast (I know, because I tried it); and last but not least something which I have no idea about, but can only be described as a tower of pistachio taffy.

I go on about this breakfast because it was — needless to say — a beautiful sight… and it wasn’t the only breakfast I had that morning.

Thinking I needed to walk it off, I asked the receptionist for a map of the city and some good places to walk to. See was more than helpful, and after grabbing tennis shoes and my newly rented cell phone, I headed south along the beach toward Jaffa.

I got about half way when a contact from a branding agency in Tel Aviv called me.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Uh… some where by the beach umbrellas?” I offered. He laughed: “What do you see nearby?” I described the setting.

“Hang on. I’m coming to get you.” Having never meet each other, I had no idea who to look for, what kind of car to expect, or where to wait. I figured he’d know enough to look for the lost American.

He pulled up and introduced himself – Ariel – and asked if I’d had breakfast yet? I said I had. No problem – we can grab a coffee then, he shrugged.

We drove to the border of Tel Aviv and Jaffo, to a cafe at the edge of the ocean. Inside, the hostess said there were no tables by the window or outside available – “you need a reservation usually just to eat here Saturday morning” Ariel explained – so he motioned for me to sit down where there was room.

He left again and I saw him gesturing to the hostess again. “Okay,” he said upon returning, ” we can sit here now” and ushered me to a prime window seat.

“Things can get done in Israel if you know how to ask for them,” he said with a smile.

Then he proceeded to order 6 mezze plates — roasted red peppers with whipped cheese, olive oil- stewed eggplant, cilantro and salmon, creamed herring…. — as well as fresh squeezed orange and carrot juice. Oh, and a coffee — which, it should be noted, was to be followed by two more cups of coffee later on.

“So welcome to Israel!” He said, with a sweeping gesture. “I am glad you come here for work!”

…Work?

Category Location-Location | Tags: | 2 Comments
Security Update

08.17.2007 by Shannon

I arrived in Tel Aviv and realized that I (inadvertently) managed to get a pack of matches through both U.S. and Israeli security — even while tagged for extra thorough “super-screening.” I had put the little strike-box from a San Francisco restaurant in my wallet after dinner and forgot they were there until… now.

oops.

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Safe & Security

by Shannon

(She Disembarks)

First travel story: I approached the ticket counter, checked my bag, and smiled as the Delta employee handed me back my passport. Then my face dropped as said, “Are you on the Do Not Fly list?”

I searched my brain. Hey self: I asked myself, Recently committed any acts that may have landed us on the Enemy to Homeland Security list? Self replied, Not that we’re aware of. So I looked at my friendly check-in fellow.

“Not that I’m aware of,” I said.

“Okay. Well, you’ve got a special marking on your boarding pass.” He pointed to where it was marked SSSS. “That means you’re going to be super-screened.”

“Super-screened?” I questioned, a disengenuous look of shock on my face. “Oh no!”

“I dunno why. The computer jus’ tells me. You’re marked. So get ready. Throw away everything. Throw them out now.”

(Here I was tempted to say thanks for the tip… I’ll be sure to toss that poison gas and shrapnel bomb before I go through security but knowing there are no-no words in the airport, I just said:)

“I’ll be sure to do that, thank you.” He looked at me wearily.

“Don’t try to take any liquids – no matter how small.”

To console him, I offered, “I’m sure I’ll be fine. As long as they don’t strip search me…”

The funny thing was, he didn’t reject this notion. He just said “you’re not gonna like it, that’s all I’m saying…” and called the next person in line.

* * *

He was right. The moment I showed my boarding pass to the first security checker, she circled the SSSS and unzipped the divider behind her. “Follow me,” she said.

I felt myself getting nervous. To be safe, I asked, “I have some lotion, under 3 oz., but I don’t have a plastic baggie. Am I okay?”

With a blank look on her face she responded, “maybe.”

She led me past everyone in line to a corridor of space behind security. “Follow this.” She gestured ahead. I followed the corridor, flowing past all other passengers in the security maze, until I came to a dead end. I looked around. There was a small sign on the side of the wall that said WAIT HERE FOR A SECURITY SCREENER. I did.

One of the regular screeners saw me waiting in the empty, dead-end line. “Someone will be right with you.” Someone was. I smiled. “Miss, step ahead, please,” he instructed, unlatching the ropes and bringing me to the front of the screener line. I felt like a criminal or covert diplomat, I couldn’t tell which.

“Please remove your laptop, liquids, jacket, long sleeves, shoes.” Then he pointed behind me to a large air puffer. “Have you ever seen one of these?

I said, Yes, in fact, I have.

Clad in a tanktop, rolled-up jeans and barefeet, I entered, let the puffer do it’s thing, exited. At that moment someone who was screening my bag called to me, “Miss! This your bag? We’re going to have to open it up.” I walked through the metal detector, and it beeped. “Miss, we’re going to have to search you.”

I smiled. The only passenger in front of me was a man in his 40′s, disheveled, and looked like he had been waiting awhile. His belt and top button were undone, as if he had just been asked to remove his pants.

Whatever I need to do to get on that plane, I thought.

There was more passing of security batons, and rifling through my bag, and examining of pockets and opening up of laptops. A young, olive-skinned man wiped my bag and shoes with small handy wipes, and ran the wipes through another small scanner to check for chemical residue. My two small viles of hand lotion were removed, and set delicately in front of me. “I’m gonna need to see your boarding pass.” Rubber gloves reached toward me for the thin piece of paper.

I handed it over.

He paused, looked at me for a long moment, and then checked it off. Then his mouth broke into a smile: “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

I exhaled. “Are these screens random?” I asked.

“Well, yes. But you get tagged if you book your ticket last minute, have a one-way flight, or are traveling to certain countries.”

“I bought my one-way ticket to Tel Aviv last week.”

“Bingo.” He said, and handed me back my two little bottles of liquid. “Have a good flight!”

And the best thing was, I got through security in under 10 minutes.

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Have a Nice Trip, See Ya’ Next Fall!

08.13.2007 by Shannon

The SoCoCo Poetry reading went well. I’ve been asked to read at WordTemple November 9th (I’ll be sure to post a reminder as the date nears for all you rabid poetry fans.)

I’ve had excruciatingly little time to write, however. I leave for Israel in three days, afterwhich I am traveling for 2 & 1/2 months. This means more time shopping for travel-sized shampoo bottles and less time coming up with insightful narratives for my audience at Not Keeping Score.

But never fear! Despite an intense work timeline in Israel and several days away from the old keyboard while trying to figure out how the hell I’ll get from Beijing to Shanghai, I’ll have many a-day adequately plugged in to broadcast more travel and couch-hopping adventures. So stay tuned!

And for those I’ll miss seeing before take-off, have a good summer’s End and I’ll see you in the Fall!

Category Announcements | Tags: | No Comments
Web 2.0H, My, Goodness

08.09.2007 by Shannon

I’m doing some work for a couple of Web 2.0 companies, and finding myself, well — 2.0verwhelmed.

I like to think of myself as a fairly savvy technology user, but I have to admit that more and more I have to “educate myself” to keep up.

It all started when I ripped off all of my pictures and deleted my profile on MySpace in order to protest the clusterfuck of design and visual narcissism that pervades, and is required of, myspace users *[1]

I declared my official non-participation with MySpacedom; I would “sign-off” from virtual society;

I decided I would not get a Facebook profile, (Oops), because, honestly, can anyone tell me the point? I already have an old Friendster profile that lies dormant, a “big-kid” work-oriented Linked In and (for those global connections) a Xing profile. Do I really need to get on Multiply, Bebo and Xanga, etc. etc.? ‘Spose I should join The Hub, just in case.

But if 2006 was the Year of social networking sites, Newsweek has declared 2007 likely to be the “Year of the Widget”. Widgets have evolved beyond a clock that emerges when you hit your Dashboard F12 key (for us Mac users) — there are pregnancy countdown widgets, music playlist widgets, and “Smart Blog” widgets that make your blog UltraSuperSavvy, like instantly populating your site with pictures relevant to text.

In this new era of widgets, I didn’t want to be left in the cold; God forbid my blog contain “merely” text. And although I have an inkling that no widget could save me from the title of “Un-smart Blog,” I’ve created my own blidget (blog widget), available on the sidebar, for your very own NKS viewing pleasure.

Widget-away!

*[1] (The profile has since been, sighingly, restablished after I 1) actually had have it for — get this — my job and 2) a friend complained about looking at the little gray shadow that haunted my old mug shot location on her “Friends” page.)

Category Brands/Trends, This Modern Life | Tags: | No Comments