Somebody Restrain Me

Please stop me before I run outside and go postal on the construction crew building a house adjacent to ours.

LOUD, NOISY, MESSY JERKS who don't know how to work their car alarms.

And due to an acoustic (and evil) act of nature, all their noise is funneled directly down into the room where my computer resides. It sounds like they've broken down the wall and are working on our house instead of the one under construction.

And not a one of them seems capable of opening his car door without setting off the car alarm (this is true for Israelis in general, but that's a completely separate diatribe I will indulge in some other day).

Looking at the glass half-full, I am very glad it's cool and cloudy outside because otherwise they'd be spoiling my pool time.

The latest house repair
I was playing host this morning to yet more fix-it guys -- this time to try to keep our guest shower from allowing GALLONS of water to leak out the door every time its used. The handymen told me there's nothing that can be done. It's a fundamental design flaw. Big surprise.

How is it that builders here can't figure out how to make a shower that doesn't leak?  In my US experience, the only way your shower can leak is if you forget to put the curtain in the tub.  Pretty simple.  And the Japanese just turn the whole bathroom into a shower, so there's really no problem there.

Time to relax
At least yesterday I indulged in a massage at the gym.  I only have one left now of a batch of 10 that I purchased before I quit my job.  Boohoo!  (I must say, I REALLY miss having huge amounts of disposable income from the days when I was working, but I wouldn't trade Sweetie for the world!).

I had a male masseuse, which was both good and bad.  The male masseuses at the gym are far superior to the women.  HOWEVER, I still am not comfortable with the whole overexposure issue with massages in Israel.  They are really just not that careful about not exposing your butt completely.  In the US or Japan, they are OH-SO-CAREFUL about tucking the sheet (not towel, like they use here) into your underwear so that you're not exposed.  But here, it's all very loosey goosey and I am just not a big fan of that aspect.

To anyone in the Tel Aviv area
I cannot say enough great things about the chef who catered our party last week.  He's fab.  His name is Etai and he works at a restaurant in Tel Aviv called Brasserie.  
We're going next week to  check it out.