Hudi's Home!

It's official. She's now Mrs. Shloims Volpsy. So many mazal tovs! Shloims' wedding was on Wednesday last week. Mikvah-Jumper Avigayil and I were sitting in the dark room on her bed, watching the livestream while crying hysterically and clutching each other for dear life.  And now they're married. Tuesday night, we went to Sheva Brachos for them. It was so nice to see her, wearing her sheitel and being all married and stuff. They're such cuties!  Anywho, I'm going to quote a friend right now: I feel like a chalkboard. She said this in response to overdosing on Claritin. Ladies and gentleman, let me save you a call to poison control. Only take a Claritin pill once every 24 hours, and do not, I repeat, DO NOT, take 5 in less than 48 hours.  So, that was an interesting experience. But really, I am a shtickle sick, just coughing up a storm. Not too fun.  But I am not too sick to tell you about Shabbos this past week. Where was I? The Shpiegels. What happened there? S...

'Tis Hudi here, writing from her palace of an apartment. Yes, we moved from our lovely shoebox into the even more lovely palace. The dryer exists, the elevator isn't broken, and, most importantly, I will no longer die of heat stroke because we have AC.  Moving into this palace took some work--an entire day's work of schlepping and packing and unpacking and more schlepping. Sunday was a very long, tiring day, starting bright and early at 7:00 am. Well, more accurately, I was up until 3:00 am on Sunday, finishing up some last-minute cleaning, so I guess that's when it started.  Who woulda thunk that moving five minutes away would be such an experience? And yet, it was. Just moving Coco (that's my giant stuffed shark, for all those who don't care about me enough to remember the truly important things in my life) to the palace took a good 15 minutes.  So, that was Sunday. Moving backwards, as I am so apt to do in this blog, Shabbos was so nice. I was in Netivot (AKA...

I'm freeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!! Wow, I don't remember the last time I felt this good. Oh wait, I do. About five months ago, when I finished first semester finals. The feeling that I get when I have no more finals to study for is indescribable. It's similar to the feeling I got when I last escaped prison, the, "I can't believe it. I've been dreaming of this day for my whole life; my whole life was waiting for this exact moment, for me to finally be free again." You think I'm exaggerating? That's because you're not in Machon Tal, taking classes that rival MIT. Did I say rival? I mean beat, crushed, poned as my bros would say. MIT has nothing on us.  Anywho, I am feeling so many happies at this moment. I just finished packing up my life into two suitcases, ready to move into second-year dorms, AKA the Palace. They have, can you believe it, a dryer! And what's more, they have air conditioning. Better yet, a bathtub. We're gonna be living like king...