The Dirty Details- Israeli Presidential Conference Style

"Let us in!"
"Are you psychotic?!"
"We will push this wall down"

You would think I was at some "Occupation is a crime free Palestine" sort of rally. Or the breaking down of the Berlin Wall take two. Well I wasn't.
This was at the Fifth Israeli Presidential Conference that through some grace of gd I was invited to.
Pretty much it was such an honor and so exciting to be there. I was literally like a kid in a candy shop. Actually a Reeses and peanut M & M's shop. My favorites.

However, the last few hours of the Conference things didn't really go as planned.
The last session was a plenary (no worries, I am using that word to sound smart. I still don't really know what it means and I can't pronounce it for the life of me) with Peres, Bibi, Shransky and some other guy I never heard of so he prob wasn't important. Or I am just ignorant.
I planned my entire day around being front and center for this plenary.
They told us security is going to be tight and there will be a difference entrance to get inside due to the heightened security. So I didn't go to the panel right before so I would make it to this plenary.
I was among the first 50 people in line to get inside. 50 out of 5,000 if I may add.
I waited on line for about a millisecond and went through the whole security shabang.
It was literally insanity.
They put this paper swab thing on your hands to make sure you weren't around gun powder. You know when someone does something like that to you and all of a sudden you second guess yourself thinking "hmmm I do think I was around gun powder recently" so all of a sudden I was thinking I was Ahmadinejad's (fun fact: this is spelt right. Thank you Google) deputy and just came out of the nuclear factory.
But thank gd I was as innocent as innocent could be. Shocker. And I got through to the other side.
They didn't even open the doors yet and I along with 50 other people were waiting outside.
I saw my future in front of me- I would sit third row (you know because the first two are reserved for g-d and Sharon Stone) and someone would notice me and come next week I'll be a millionaire.
Anyhoo, as that thought was ending they opened the doors.

Ok. I will put two options out there and I won't tell you what really went down. You will decide based on if you think I'm an idiot or not:
Option One- I was not told that we need a special ticket to enter the plenary. I mean not really a special ticket but you just needed to go to the information desk and ask them for a ticket which you get for free.  It really isn't a big deal. Well, it wouldn't of been a big deal if I knew about it and got the ticket. But I didn't know you had to do that.

Option Two: I did know you needed a ticket but I was too lazy to get one and I thought since I have a press pass (ya I'm basically paparazzi. Holla) I thought you could just get through.

So in a nutshell the two options are I really didn't know you needed a ticket vs I am stupid and thought I was more legit than I was.
Your call.

So they open the doors and asked me for my ticket. And I said in my posh British accent "oh please ma'am I am press."
She tells me I can't go in because I don't have a ticket.
My world shattered.
All that's good in the world ended.
It was as if they told me Reeses was going out of business. Or that Kate Gosselin adopted all of her eight kids. Or that the Tiffany's necklace I wear everyday is actually fake. Or that Kim Kardashian's baby's name is North West. Oh wait that happened.

Ya it was bad.
Anyways, I had to do the walk of shame. Which was pretty awkward.
I figured I'll just go and get the stupid ticket and I'll be out in five mins and back on line to claim my rightful third row seat.
Well by the time I got the ticket and was back on line about a thousand more people were there with me. It was as if there was an ice cream truck giving out free ice cream. Yes, that many people.
Anyways so I'm waiting on line for a good hour and then they call all press people to wait at the side so I thought "great they are going to give us VIP entrance like we deserve. You know because we are basically holier than thou". So we are waiting at the side for 45 minutes and they are letting the regular peasant people get in but not us. That's when it got violent.
I felt like it was the French Revolution take two, but this time Israeli style.
It was bad.
Punches were (almost) thrown. The gate was (almost) knocked down. The police were (almost) called.
Yes, I'm trying to make it a little more dramatic then it was.
But I was just waiting for a tire to be thrown.

Anyways, I realized after two hours it wasn't worth it. Please, I have dignity. And I heard three out of the four speak already and hate to be a Debby downer but it's not all its cracked up to be. So yesterday.
So I left. With the stupid (*#$#)($ ticket in hand.

Some other thoughts on the Conference:
1) It was awesome
2) I helped this odd bodd Colombian woman sitting next to me at one of the panels play Bejewled on her iPhone. It was a boring panel anyways so Bejewled was much more entertaining
3) Dana Weiss (some Israeli TV reporter) was the moderator for the first plenary with Tony Blair and Rahm Emanuel, Peres and Clinton and was wearing a STRANGE little outfit.
She looked like a jogger gone magician gone crazy. Weird little outfit.
If I could give the heads of the conference any advice for next year it would be make sure the moderators wear normal clothes. Like go shopping with them. Don't let them choose for themselves. Bad idea.
4) There were not too many outlets to charge your appliances. And I was a loser with only an iPhone. Most people had at least the entire Apple store with them. And there truly were not enough outlets.
The second day I was charging my phone in the Tachana and not by some normal spot but next to the guy who sits by the bathroom all day and charges people for a shekel.
It was strange.
Lesson learned: after seeing this poor guy get every excuse under the sun as to why people can't give him a ONE shekel, I do not want his job.
5) I was on line for the bathroom when all of a sudden g-d herself aka Sharon Stone cut all of us and her big macho security peeps kicked everyone out of the bathroom for her to do her thing. I think she pees gold or something.
Obviously when she was standing two feet away from me I didn't have my phone on me.

Today's Lesson

So I don't have my license. Israeli or American.
I'm a little behind. Old news.

So I am in the process of getting my Israeli license and I just had my eighth (I think. You lose track after four) lesson today.
Don't start throwing a party.
Eight out of twenty five.
Basically spending all my parents money here, but then again I made aliyah so they can never hate me.
Anyways my driving teacher knows me better than anyone. I mean after spending at least 40 minutes together about three times a week we have discussed almost everything. He practically knows me better than I know myself. Truth.

Well I thought he knew me until I helped him fix his car today.

He really is a great driving teacher and if anyone needs his info let me know (English speaker and all) but I think he likes the idea of having a chauffeur.
I mean I drove his kid to gan, I dropped him off at the supermarket once, and I also dropped him off in Aroma.
Just call me soccer mom.
But every time he leaves the car he leaves me in it with the engine on, his wallet and his phone. At first I thought this was odd and that was all, but recently I have started to think he is testing my stealing capabilities. And I am no thief.
Because...
1) Why is it fun to steal something and then forever live in guilt?
2) Who wants to be that uncivilized person who runs out of a store? I have some dignity left.

Anyways, so no, not planning on stealing his wallet or phone or car with his name written all over it.

However, today he told me to pull into a gas station which I did.
Apparently my turn was really bad because he told me today is his son's birthday and he would like to be alive for the party. Oops. He also said he didn't write his will yet so I can't kill him yet. Ha. Ha. Ha
(P.S.- I'm a really good driver...)

Anyways, we pull into the gas station and he gets out of the car and I'm just sitting there. Then he comes back and says there is no gas.
Which I don't understand. It's a gas station. All they need to supply is gas. That is it. They don't need to go to the field and pick wheat or some forest to get berries. All they need to do is somehow get the gas from a nuclear Iran and by the looks of it that can't be too hard since everyone has gas. Everyone.

Reason number 742 why Israel can't get into a nuclear war with Iran. Then we won't have gas and I will be dead. Which would suck.

Well then my teacher gets into this other car and I just figured I should get in it with him. We are driving for 30 seconds and he gets out. So I do as well. It's basically a game of Simon Says. He does something and I follow. No, I don't think for myself anymore.
Then he lift the hood of this new car. And I am bugging out.
1) I didn't put sunscreen on before I went out
2) I didn't have water with me and I wasn't really in the mood faint today ironically enough.


Him and his little pal are fixing this car and I am standing at the side of the highway pretending I have some very important business to take care of on my phone because I so didn't want them to ask me for help.
Of course they did.
Well for thirty seconds until they realized how white my dress was or that I just did my nails or that this is not my forte. I think the latter is most likely.

So today I learned I can drive to gas stations (just about) but fixing cars is just not in the cards.
Also I learned to never attempt to wear a cute outfit for a driving lesson. Who knows the next pit stop could be "oh Lottie can you drive me to my friend's house? We need your help fixing the broken sewage pipe."

The End :-)

A Mistake Will Cost You. Oh Well.

It's not very often I show off about things.
One, because it's awkward and frankly no one usually cares.
Two, because I never had much to show off about.

Here are my three claims to fame in life:

1) My brother is Zushye Kestenbaum

2) In my elementary school there is a week called TV Awareness Week where you don't watch TV for a week and if you succeed you get a ticket for a raffle to win the grand prize... a bike. Gasp.
Well I didn't really buy the whole no TV business. Please, thirteen year old me needed her Sabrina The Teenage Witch reruns. But my Chumash teacher said whoever didn't watch TV for the week will get ten points on the next test and being that I had to get into high school because it is soooo hard to get into the exclusive Maayanot Yeshiva High School for Girls, I partook in TV Awareness week.
Naturally since I didn't watch TV I got a ticket in the raffle by default.
And guess who one the bike out of 800 kids who were also in the raffle.
Yup, little old me. The one who didn't and still doesn't know how to ride a bike.
I got my picture in the school newsletter and all that legit stuff.
The bike is currently sitting in my garage. Used once- for my dad to attempt for the hundredth time to teach me how to ride it.

3) Yup, I was the person who saw that woman get her head stuck in the train door a few months ago. I'm basically a household name because of it. Ha lies.
Check it out- http://newestsabraontheblock.blogspot.co.il/2012/12/a-heading-home-adventure.html

See, really nothing to show off about.

Well then I get this email from some guy inviting me to attend the 5th Israeli Presidential Conference as a Times of Israel (Newest Sabra's cousin) blogger.
One of my friends who clearly cares oh so much about me told me that this guy is probably a rapist.

As she whatsapped that to me I was just seeing Hollywood.

Especially after taking a sneak peek at the guest list.
"Um hello the Prince of Monaco." "Bill Clinton, my dad loves you so I think we can be on first name basis" "Barbra Streisand, I don't know any songs you sing but I loved you in Meet The Fockers"
Step aside my current peasant friends.

I see it now. Me and my autograph book (going to explore Pinterest tonight for some solid ideas). And get ready Instagram for June 19-20 (sadly I am not invited to Peres's rocking 90th birthday party on the 18th) because I will bombard you.

Some people are excited to go to hear about how to make Israel a better tomorrow, others are going to be doing their whole networking shtick.
I will stand there starstruck while plotting how to get some of the Prince of Monaco's attention. Single lady right here.

Isn't it blatantly obvious from this little rant that this is a big mistake. They meant to email some blogger with a similar name to mine. Or Obama's email got confused with mine.
Times of Israel, this mistake may cost you.. at least I'll have fun!

Now back to watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey.