Tel Aviv is blond

Tel Aviv is blond. Not stupid, like in blond jokes, just with blond conclusions about what is happening outside her view - if it's not within my "eye-frame" - it's probably far far away or even doesnt exist.

Plenty of Tel Aviv citizens - students and idealistic hippies gave up the TV in favor of reading books and going to coffee-shops (24-7). So two days has passed since the beginning of the war till Tel Aviv reallized smth is seriousely wrong. 

Two years ago Tel Aviv (as a classic blond) decided that the fact that its war in Lebanon and plenty of northern citizens arrived to TA for that period - it means that every day has to be the biggest parties ever for it can be the last day of peace in TA, so the shops were blossoming, bars and clubs too and new-comers from the north arrived actually to a ski-resort. Well, that's how when you live at Tel AViv's brunette aunt - the North ;))

it took me a week with a dog and three days with my young niece to understand why children (even teenagers) and animals are much much better than people. and i'm usually THE people lover and their biggest defendant.

the miracle inside of you

He was sitting on the doorsteps and waiting fo something good to happen. But it didnt. And worse than that, there was no visible or invisible sign of anything good that was about to appear.

Nada. Niente. Former silver smoky sky and deeply phylosophical autumn-ish weather, now represented nothinig else but depressing grey-ish picture from some suicidal emo-gothic movie.

Peter was far from being a depressive type. But noone is safe these days.

So he began searching for an exit. Regular mild analize and few phone calls to few close cheering friends would solve the moodiness, but not now. Briefly going through some names on the phone book was enough to reallize that this time actually is different. And probably so should be the solution.

Efraim's house in the heart of Old Jaffa was invisible for a stranger's eye - not hidden or something, it's just that on these small narrow streets, you can never tell if it's a wall, an entrance to a chamber or an old scary cave - a finding of some archeologyst. Efraim was well known for his wisdom but he wasnt the kind of "i know what you came for, stranger". So he welcomed Peter, offered him some tea and listened to his heart speaking. The he reminded him the old saying that "only fool does the same thing over and over again and expects new outcome". Then they just chatted, as if they were college-mates, about politics, sports and girls...and when Peter already at the door, sure that the old man was nothing but a talkative mate, nothing of the "spiritual" type, 

Efraim said "you are a good guy, Peter, but you used to believe in people too much and now, when you seem to open your eyes, you feel disappointment and that causes a certain lack of kindness in your heart. That's what bothers you. It kills your joy. You preffer to blindly believe people and get disappointed once in a while than to feel this mistrust that you do now. It's new to you and makes you feel deeply uncomfortable. Find kindness in your heart and you'll be healed".

Peter walked out of his door enlightened. Although nothing has happened, the world didnt change, neither did he, but he felt reliefed that he could let some of the old kindness back in his heart, give a charity penny without feeling angry (he is surely getting drugs), because if he decides to buy food - now he will be able to...talking to so-called friends without feeling used because just the way they want your money/support/help, you need their attention, which is also an interest, not as mercantile, but still - its always about something each side needs, cause even if you play with a pet - you want its' affection, so it's not as pure as it seems. 

Peter walked down the street and felt that his strength is coming back to him and realized that Efraim was right - he couldnt live without faith in good. And now, when his eyes were wide open he could experience this in a new, concious, different way. He knew how the world worked, but still believed that there is some good in it, that people were good, just every one was searching for happiness in another way...blindly trying everything they can...

Peter smiled  cause now he knew - you are the miracle, it is inside of you

press conference. backstage.

We are all familiar with regular press conference's look & feel. Well, at least most of us. It usually starts with you being picked by a cab driver from your home at the exact hour that was set and being droven to a nice place - conference hall or a restaurant. You arrive, exit the cab, look around, put on your best semi-content sceptical face and enter the building. Right at the door you meet a smiling neatly dressed PR-manager lady that greets you, welcomes you in, asks if the way was ok, the cab was on time and the sun was shining from that exact angle that makes your cheekbones look sexy. THe rest of the time you spend eating, drinking and chatting with your newly arrived collegues. When the lunch and the mingling are over, you seat back and absorb the presentation, which actually is the real reason for all the event. At that point, depends on the occasion you may fall asleep, send txt messages to your dogs, draw flowers in your worksheet - you can do whatever as long as you put on your "oh-my-God-its-so-boring-i-can-die-right-now" look. At some happy moment (usually after 40-60 mins) its all over so that you can munch some more sweets, have a coffee and receive your nice give-away (gift). Happy, happy, joy, joy - its about time to go to your publishing offices or back home and back to work. Taxi!! 

That's if you are a journalist. 

Now this is how it looks of you are a PR-director.

For these spiecies the event starts two months before an actual press-conference on a client-PR meeting. A client is decided that he wants to expose his latest maneuvr to the press. Of course the excitement shines through the happy client because its obviousely the most brilliant marketing step his company has ever done before and the destiny of the humanity depends on it whether it's a presentaiton of a new revolutionary light-drink taste made from happy bananas that only happy farmers have grown or it can also be an exposion of the new controversial re-branding - now a company's logo includes not only blue and red colors, but a thin silver stripe in the middle. Now nothing will be the same. A silver lining that changes the history. Of course people wont forgive the company if it doesnt share such a grandiose invention with everybody. 

At that point they (the marketing directors group at the client's) get a firm faith in the importance of the event and are perfectly sure that even if they hold the event on a park bench and guests were requested to sit on burning charcoal - they would have. Its worth it.  

Here comes the PR-manager's part In order to ensure a long-term survival he needs to be absolutely politically correct (as in every other point actually) and perform the "there is no santa-claus" thing for the client, but without hurting his feelngs and his baby-product esteem. "this marketing move is genius, but we need to stick to the strategy", "journalists dont owe you a thing and you have to nurse them gently and warmly".

AFter hours of insult, misunderstanding, argument and whatsoever you, as a PR manager succeed to get the client sign the order for the nicest restaurant you could find, the best food you could get and for the best give-away presents so that the journalists are content. First class flight. All set. Now just need them to show up.

Here comes another trick or treat thing for a PR manager. Inviting the journalists. Each one is unique. Each one demands its' very unique appoach - one wants to hear that there is going to be a tasty lunch, another one wont show up without a tempting presents promise and one or two (most ideological ones) will be insulted to hear those things. If you miss the essence - say bye bye to your career. 

At some point all the phone calls are done, all the promises were made, all strings pushed. The day of the event you show up at the restaurant with your most fancy dress, great hair comb and very pale face. The client wants to see the payback for his efforts in the amount of the guests. Then first journalist calls to tell you that he is locked at the appartment without spare keys and cant go out. You hold yourself from semi-trailer's curses and express your deepest empathy. The time is up - noone is at the door. You swear to quit your job and hang each and every person that didnt show up to your press conference. Another ten minutes pass. You put on your - oh-my-god-everything-is-so-great smile and assure a client tthat everybody will show up at the next few mins. 

You imagine how your life will look like on a deserted island with no clients or journalists. You love your life there. You can smell the coconut and the natives who will maybe give you a massage for ten pears from your today's necklace. 

Then when you are almost reasy for a grandiose fiasco - two journalists show up walking together. 

The warm feeling of deep affection you sense at the moment cant be described. It's an extasy. Climax. You LOVE them. They are your best true and only friends and family. THey showed up! TWO!! YESS!! Oh God - I knew you love me!! 

You almost run towards them, welcome them in, ask about the way and offer them to drink, eat and relax...now you know everything will be ok, now you have only twenty more to arrive. Then you will drink your first glass of water. No food. No seat. Just smile and wave :)))

what a small world - elections

The funny thing about klisheas - is that they are usually so true!

Let's take the "It's such a small world" saying. Everybody use it whenever they realize that you have mutual friends or your pants are from the same boutique. 

But sometimes this "small world" get us to pretty hilarious situations, like the one my friends and me have recently found ourselves in: 3 best friends happened to run elections campaigns of the competing parties. Pretty big ones, well, the biggest. 

Me and my roomate are working on two biggest parties' campaigns so now our "how was your day" turned into careful filtering any facemuscle movement and verbally it ends up talking about "hey, i leaned on the chair at the meeting today and broke it - hehehe". 

Well, so far it has been only three weeks. We have almost three more months to go. Fun Fun FUN!!