Holy Moly

Walking around Jerusalem with a bandaid above your upper lip causes so many people to flinch. I don't know why. But after an appointment with a dermatologist to get this ridiculous thing off my skin, which appeared on me around 5 years ago or so, I got all these sympathetic looks from people. But no one gave me their seat, so they must not have been too sympathetic. The skin doc during my first initial visit said it was a cosmetic procedure and was about to charge me 500 NIS for it ($140), which I didn't have, but then my family doctor said - hey! let them do a biopsy on it and it'll change from a cosmetic to a medical procedure. He didn't quite "say" it, but wrote a letter about them 'checking' it at a lab.

My co-workers laughed. "Now it'll cost them a lot more than 500 shekels" one of them chuckled. So it will. And that is how things are done right here in the Middle East for little or no money at all.

And speaking of moles and warts and all sorts of ugly things, tomorrow is election day in Jerusalem and other municipalities. My daughter, with her history of assorted eclectic jobs, has been working night and day, day and night for Jerusalem mayorial candidate, Arkady Gaydamak. The rich Russian oligarch. The owner of Jerusalem's soccer team. The one who's Hebrew is on par with Hubby's. The one who built tent cities for refugees of the Galilee during the Second Lebanon War a couple of years ago. And the one who will most probably not get elected.

Anyway, my daughter offered me a one-day stint at the election booths with pay, monitoring the booths so that people don't sneak in twice or three times to vote. Since it's decent pay at 62 NIS ($18) an hour - sure I'll take it. I promptly took a vacation day so I can pay something to those lousy Visa creditors who called me twice because one payment of theirs bounced two days ago. They had no right getting me into a funk with debt anyhow (of course I'm really to blame - I should just tear up the damn cards). And they'll have to wait until I get paid my just Rubles.

Much to my relief, I won't have to wear the scary old bandaid above my lip tomorrow, while I monitor the polling stations in Jerusalem, although with it on, no one would DARE march into the voting booths twice.