Through the fog

Eyes glued to windshield
hunched forward in the seat
trying to see
trying to stay in control.

There is nothing to see
and no where to go
except for the long winding road
leading nowhere.

Through the trees
twists and turns
the fog so thick
I'm sure I can cut it.

I am scared.
Approaching headlights
may spell my doom.
One mistake is all it takes.

But there is no stopping,
only moving forward, onward.
For the one who stops
may very well be the one to cause the crash.

I hold my breath and keep going.
I am shaking.
Concentration a necessity
holding the wheel tightly.

I want to close my eyes.
Take a break.
Wait till it clears.
But no such relief.

The fog engulfs me
holds me tight
surrounds me.
There is no stopping now.

Will I make it?
Or will I get lost in the fog
forever wandering
trying to find my way back home.

:) :) :)

To think it's been a whole year... 13 months to be exact approximate.

I am of course talking about this. Tonight and tomorrow, the first day of Chol Hamoade is my niece Rochel Leah's first birthday!

My sister and brother in law and niece spent the first days of yom tov with us. It was so nice to see her smile, hear her garbled baby talk, even hear her cry and have diapers in the garbage. It's been a long time since there has been a baby in my family.

She is a gorgeous pretty princess and I love her. (I didn't buy her a birthday present cuz come on, she will never remember anyway. I need to reserve it for when she is older and can actually remember that I am indeed her favorite aunt.)

Happy pesach everyone, and to lots of simchos and happiness.

Star light, star bright

One night I woke up and glanced at the clock. It read 4-something AM. My first thought was what woke me up in the middle of the night? And then I realized something was wrong. I could see the clock. I could read the numbers. It took awhile until my foggy brain cleared, and then I noticed my eyes were dry. I had forgotten to take out my contact lenses before I went to sleep.

The first thing I do when I wake up in the morning, after I shut off my alarm, is to grope blindly for my glasses. Before I put them on, everything is blurry. If I ever have to use the bathroom in middle of the night I usually dont bother to put on my glasses, since I only keep one eye open in the hopes of not actually waking up.

I never really think about it because that is my reality. My world is naturally blurry, unclear. Without my glasses I see shapes and colors, but nothing really makes sense to me. Wearing contact lenses is the closes I will get to having the feeling of normal sight. But every night I have to take them out of my eyes. And once again the world is blurry.

Everyone needs a pair of glasses. Eyes to look through and see the world clearly, as it should be. Without it all we see are vague shapes and outlines. Without it we have no direction, we are lost.

For some people this is their parents, or a teacher, or a rabbi. As a Lubavitcher I turn to the Rebbe for guidance, and my mashpia. Sometimes my parents.

Sometimes when something is unclear for you it is time for a second opinion. A different perspective. You need someone who will be your glasses, who will guide you in what to do and show you what you cannot see.

A joke:

Through the pitch-black night, the captain sees a light dead ahead on a collision course with his ship. He sends a signal: "Change your course 10 degrees east."
The light signals back: "Change yours, 10 degrees west."
Angry, the captain sends: "I'm a navy captain! Change your course, sir!"
"I'm a seaman, second class," comes the reply. "Change your course, sir."
Now the captain is furious. "I'm a battleship! I'm not changing course!"
There's one last reply. "I'm a lighthouse. Your call."

Sometimes we need that light to show us the way. The constant, the one that never moves, never falters. The one that keeps us on course.

Every once in awhile it is good to take stock of our lives and say where am I headed? Am I going in the direction I should be? How do I intend to get there? What tools along the way will help me to my destination, my goal? What is my goal?

Of course it helps to put on our glasses, look at our lives from a different perspective.

And know that if you are ever lost there will always be a light to guide you back home.

Only human

I don't want to go to sleep at 3 am when I know I need to wake up at nine.

I don't want to be upset because my family invited the whole neighborhood to our barbecue and I am not in the mood for company.

I don't want to be tired and moody because I took care of 7 kids today and they are not even mine.

I don't want to bother my little brother and have him bother me back.

I don't want to not help for pesach and have my father be disappointed in me.

I don't want to waste my vacation and then regret it when it's over.

I don't want to be pessimistic all the time.

I don't want to be jealous because someone got their article published.

I don't want to feel threatened by other people's success.

I don't want to be bored and watch meaningless tv shows.

I don't want to write a list of all my faults and moan the fact that my life is going no where.

I don't want to waste the brains G-d gave me and say oh well high school's over I guess I won't learn anything now.

I want someone to believe in me and give me a chance.

I want to believe in myself and give myself a chance.

I want to be happy.

I want to find something to live for.

I want to find purpose and meaning in life.

I want to get high off of life.

But I am only human.

I get tired.

I get cranky.

I get moody.

I am a pessimist.

I am selfish.

I am self destructive.

I create my own obstacles.

I am not the strong person that I know I could be.

I am not doing the best I could do.

I am not even doing a quarter of what I could be doing.

I made this list to make myself feel better about myself.

It is not helping.

It is just an excuse to waste some more time and try to convince others that I am not a loser.

I wish I wish I wish I was a genie.

In other news: some good quotes.

And remember, no matter where you go, there you are. ~Confucius

It is not easy to find happiness in ourselves, and it is not possible to find it elsewhere. ~Agnes Repplier

There comes a morning in life when you wake up a new person; that is to say, you wake up the same person but you realize it's your own fault. ~Robert Brault

We must be our own before we can be another's. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I know well what I am fleeing from but not what I am in search of. ~Michel de Montaigne

To clean or not to clean.

That is the question. I really don't want to. I hate cleaning. Especially when the place is a mess. (It's easy to clean when it's already clean.)

Plus there is so many other things I could be doing. I'm on vacation. I hate pesach cleaning, it is annoying. I wish the house would just clean itself.

The funny thing is, no one even asked me to clean. My mother is not making me, they didn't say "only come home if you are going to help." If I don't help no one will even notice.

But there is this guilt inside of me, and this dreadful feeling I get every year that somehow, our house is just not clean enough.

Thank G-d for the bracha that exonerates us from the chometz.

Now I am off to not clean.

The horror

I'll tell you one thing- spreading my wings and flying is not as awesome as its made out to be.

So I'm all grown up now. I have a job, I make money. I'm independent. It feels great. (So my father pays my cell phone bill, so what?)

Suddenly, about a week ago, Father drops a bombshell on me. He will no longer be paying my cell phone bill. (Okay I can't breath.)

Now I am all on my own.

What to do?

Shop around for no contract cell phone plans. But there are so many. And all of them clain to be the best. Whom to believe?

By now I'm probably an expert.

Virgin mobile, $25/month unlimited text and web, but only 300 minutes. Or $40/month unlimited text and web, with 1200 minutes. Or $60/month unlimited everything.

Metro PCS- ranges from $40-$60/month, unlimited everything.

Boost- $50/month unlimited everything. They also offer a daily plan of just $2/day. Or a minute plan of 10 cents per minute.

Page plus- $29.95/month- 1,200 minutes/ 2,000 text/MMS messages/ 100 MB of Data. Or $44.95/month- unlimited talk and text, but only 20mb of data.

Why am I telling you all this?

Like any smart person would do, I decided to read the reviews on these plans. And I wonder, how can there be two totally different reviews on the same provider? One person praising it to the high heavens, saying it's the best deal he ever had. The next calling it evil and saying they stole his money.

And on and on.

So how do you decide? When there are so many options out there, how can one possibly decide?

It was so much simpler when my father paid the bill and I had my stupid old flip phone. Soon the smartphones will take over the world and my durable flip phone will become extinct.

And in the meantime, I will be without a cell phone once my father cancels his plan.

Oh the joys of growing up.

Close my eyes and take a ride inside

There are words inside me trying to get out but there is something blocking them. Tonight is just not my night. And so many people try to tell me their opinions on this, or how to do this right or that right. I don't know what their point is but I know how it makes me feel. It makes me feel little, like they are stepping on me, putting me down, telling me that the way I have been doing things my whole life is all wrong. And who gave them the right to do that to me?

I am in a world where the truth is hidden and everyone is pushing their way through, trying to figure it out. Everyone interprets things differently, and it is up to me to find my own way, to sift through the rubble of right and wrong and find something to trust in.

That is what I lack. Who do I trust in a world like this? The homeless guy who tells me that if I give him a quarter I will get absolution? The lady who tells me that I should or should not wave my fingers at the flames? My mother who tells me that we peel our vegetables on pesach?

People ask me what my standards are, and I don't know what to tell them. Do I go by what my family does, or should I make up my own stuff? Do I go by what my family does cuz I thought about it and decided it was the right way to do things, or because it is easier than researching and figuring it out myself?

I don't know why I do what I do. I have many questions with no answers. I have so many doubts and uncertainties. The more I think I know, the less confident I feel about it.

I am outside walking alone. There is so much conversation going on in my head. It is late and it is quiet out. The questions and doubts just keep swirling, and my feet hit the pavement with a loud clacking sound that can probably wake the dead.

I want to be inside, somewhere warm, somewhere accepting, but somehow the darkness stretches on and on, and I am very far from home.

In the nighttime

I open my window to get some fresh air. I lay back down and look up at the ceiling, wishing I was laying under the night sky, looking up at the stars.

The sound of cars rushing by comforts me. It is familiar, like home. I wonder where all these people are going at midnight.

I should be sleeping. Little kids are most likely asleep. Teenagers who need to go to school tomorrow are asleep. Even adults who are expected at work tomorrow are in their beds, sleeping.

Then who are these people that are outside now, driving somewhere? Do they have a direction in mind, or are they wandering aimlessly, hoping they will find the place they don’t even know they are looking for?

Are they going home, or leaving home? If it is nighttime, they should be asleep.

Then why do I hear so many cars driving by?

I close my eyes and let the noise wash over me. I laugh at the child in me, wondering all these things. And I hope that child doesn’t disappear, because of all the adults in this world who try to quiet it.

Sleep comes. I have so many questions, so much to learn, but it’ll have to wait until morning.

The longest eight minutes of my life (3/3)

My car is the mini van

The day after the wedding I was exhausted and figured I would sleep in. But that was not meant to be.

The owner of the apartment we were renting rang the bell at 9:25 in the morning to tell us that there were people coming to clean the carpet for pesach at 9:40. Which gave us 15 minutes. She apologized saying she booked them 2 months ago, she asked them to come in the afternoon but they said she was the first on the route. I thought it was rude since we were guests and paying for the place. Imagine staying at a hotel where they make you get up so they can change the sheets.

I was tired and bleary eyed and still in pajamas when these 2 frum guys walk in. They tell us we can go back to sleep after they finish, but by that time the noise had woken me up. And the carpets were soaking wet.

We all got dressed and then I asked my father if I could drive the car to my house. He said it was fine but to keep an eye on it for signs of anything unusual. (This was the car that was in an accident.) At this point I had still not spoken to the rabbi about the car, he wasn’t answering his phone. And then when he did talk to me he told me to drive it back to New Haven and he would take care of it there. But my father felt that after an accident it might not be safe to drive.

It got to my house ok. My aunt needed to go to the airport at 2 so I volunteered to drive her. The car fine most of the way there. But then I noticed it started doing this thing where I would press on the gas and it would rev up but it wouldn’t get into gear. So it wasn’t doing anything. I didn’t do anything about it until I left the airport to go home.

I decided not to take the belt parkway and for some reason went the wrong way and ended up way out of my way. I programmed the GPS which told me it would take 34 minutes to get home from where I was, which is the same amount as from the airport. I had driven totally out of my way. I made a U-turn, stopped for a red light, and that was it. The car wouldn’t go. I was stuck in the right lane, there was an emergency lane right next to me but my car wouldn’t move. I put on my hazard lights and people still beeped at me.

I called my father who told me it was most likely a problem with the transmission. I had to cross a really busy street to get to the gas station on the other side. (Sounds like a joke.) Bought transmission fluid, walked back, saw a cop taking a look inside my car. I signaled to him that it was my car. He helped me push it to the side. Then he left.

I put in the transmission fluid, got in and started the engine- and thank G-d it drove! There was smoke coming from the hood but my father said it was probably cuz I spilled some fluid in the engine. He told me to drive it home and stick to the right lane.

It gave me trouble all the way home. It would go, then it would stop. And I kept praying that after the stress of the past few days I would just get home safely with no more hassle.

The longest eight minutes of my life. The GPS said there were eight minutes left until I got home. I said tanya by heart the whole way, the same perek over and over in a loop. I hoped it would help. “Please G-d just let me get home okay, Please G-d just let me get home okay.”

Thank G-d. I got home and parked the car.

Then I spoke to the rabbi about what to do with the car. That was a very unpleasant conversation. I will not repeat what he said since it wasn’t very nice.

I took the train back to Connecticut. The car is parked on my block. The transmission is leaking any fluid I put into it. I am no mechanic but it would be safe to assume there’s something wrong with the car.

I don’t like dealing with stressful situations. I am not calm. I get nervous. Sometimes I cry. But then I pick myself up and do what I have to do, cuz if not who will do it for me.

And through it all I pray to G-d to give me the strength to get through this.

And of course, I hit number 3 speed dial on my phone, and listen to my father’s comforting voice, and let him tell me what to do. And I know he won't let me down.

The dress crisis (2/3)

Wedding day. I wake up from my alarm at 8:30 and turn over, wishing I could go back to sleep. But there’s lots to do today. Manicures, eat lunch, hair make-up get dressed, pictures. We are on a tight schedule. Since the dorm car was parked and undrivable, my brother was driving back and forth all day picking up, dropping off. (My brother who is 17 and only has a permit. Who scraped someone’s car and caused my mother a lot of anxiety since he was the only one driving which is illegal.)

After manicure and pedicure I am running late. I keep getting phone calls while my nails are still wet and of course I can’t answer them. Someone comes to pick me up. I have to run to the apartment where I was staying to pick up my dress and shoes and anything else I will need. I’m starving since I missed lunch. My sister grabs me a bagel.

We get to the hall. The make-up lady starts on my sister first while I get my hair done. We can’t decide what to do. Up, down, half up, half down. The lady doing my hair tells me to try on my dress to see which hairstyle will look good with it. I ask my sister to zip me up. The zipper gets stuck at one point and won’t go up the whole way. Three people give it a try and suddenly the zipper breaks. This is great.

For some reason, last week I was freaking out about the dress I bought for the wedding. It was green when all my other sisters and my mother found purple. Which was fine with me. But it was sleeveless, and for some reason I thought a long sleeve lace shirt would look good with it. After buying my own material and deciding against making a shirt, I found one online for… $50. I bought it and it came. I tried it on with the dress.

It looked horrible. The lace was all wrong with the material. There’s no way to describe it besides that I was panicking. Not knowing what to do but knowing I was desperate, I ran to the mall, tried on a few dresses and bought one. Here’s the funny part- it was purple.

I called my mother to tell her the whole story and she convinced me that I was just nervous, that she would buy a plain cream colored shirt and it would look good with the green dress, that I should keep the purple one just in case but not wear it. I already got the green one hemmed, didn’t seem nice to waste it after all that effort.

So I brought the purple one with me just in case. It was my ‘back-up dress’. And I ended up wearing it.

My brother came to pick me up. I had to run to Kingston to buy a black shirt to go underneath the purple dress since I hadn’t foreseen needing one. I’m in a jean skirt and sweater, my make-up is professionally done, (and gorgeous), my hair is half done. I cannot imagine what people thought. All I kept thinking was, wedding crisis.

I ran to get my purple dress from the apartment, ran back to the hall, tried it on, and everyone agreed it looked perfect, I would fit right in with my family, it was hashgacha pratis that I bought it and brought it with me. So I finished getting my hair done and all was well.

The wedding was great. My brother was his usual unusual self. He wore a kappatah but with a vest underneath it and he made it look like a morning coat worn by British men long ago. He wore a flower on the lapel. And his signature top hat.

The kallah was gorgeous. I cried a little after the chuppah when it hit me that he was married. It was a fun wedding, and the best part was when my mother came out with 60 plastic top hats and gave them out to the guys to wear while dancing.

Oh and we played ‘pass the niece around’. My one and only gorgeous niece who is ka’’h one years old.

My aunt was there, and my mom’s best friends since she was 6 came with her daughter. We all had a really nice time.

So that was the story of the dress crisis. Part 3 coming soon.

The longest eight minutes of my life

Part 1/3

I cry when I'm stressed. I don't know why. I wish I could be tougher, like guys. But when I can't deal with something, first I scream and then I cry.

Friday was a stressful day. It started out in Connecticut. I drove to New York and the traffic wasn't that bad. By the time I dropped off all the girls it was 3:30 and Shabbos started at 7:02. I figured I'd go run some errands before I went home. This was after a 2 hour drive.

I went to 2 gas stations, 2 drug stores and one other store, and had problems with my debit card at every one of them. I called the bank frantic thinking there's something wrong with my account... until I realized I was using my card for my savings account and not my checking account, therefore my pin was wrong and that's why I had declined transactions. So I went back to all those stores and made the purchases again.

5:00.

I get home, eat something cuz I'm starving. My mother wanted to go over to the apartment I was staying at for shabbos. Since we were having relatives for the wedding she rented a guest apartment and wanted me to stay there. So we go over there and I put my stuff down.

5:30.

I go to pick up my friend who was staying with me for shabbos so I wouldn't be alone since the guests were only coming motzei shabbos. Swing around the block. I didn't find parking. Went around the block, and saw a space... only it was down the block on a one way street so I had to go around the block again to get it, and I didn't want to lose it so I made my friend get out of the car and run to stand in the space so I wouldn't lose it.

5:50.

I was at a stop sign. The car behind me beeped. I started going, I looked right, couldn't see much cuz there were cars parked blocking my view down the street.

The car came out of no where. I remember thinking, that car is going to hit me. And then it did.

5:55.

Everything was happening so fast. It was like swirls, only all dark colors. It felt like bumper cars when they hit you on purpose, only it's not fun at all. I slammed into the door, and then the steering wheel. The other car dragged my car for a bit and I slammed on the brakes and thought, I can't hit hat parked car. And then I kept thinking, oh G-d oh G-d, how much money is this gonna cost. It's not my car.

After that a lot happened.

My friend ran over to see if I was okay. I called 911. A frum lady ran downstairs. She called shomrim. I called my father. And I cried.

6:00.

Shomrim came first. They asked me if I was ok. I kept saying I was fine. The car was a bit banged up but the other guys car was worse. He looked fine too. He had a passenger in his car who needed medical assistance but she was conscious.

The police came. Asked for license and registration and insurance.

Hatzala came. Asked if I was ok. I still said I was fine.

6:15.

I asked the police if I could run inside to use the bathroom.

I asked them how long it was gonna take.

The photographer from crownheights.info came. He got his information wrong. He said there were 2 girls in the car. But it was just me. I was hit on the passenger side and thank G-d my friend wasn't in the car.

6:25.

I keep looking at the time thinking, shabbos is coming, this is taking forever. I need to take a shower.

I ask the police nicely if I could go inside and take a shower and come back. He said no.

6:40.

The police are done. They wrote up a report. I don't know what it said. I told them it wasn't my fault.

6:45.

My chest is hurting. Also my shoulder is sore. I tell them maybe I'm not fine after all. They say maybe I should call hatzala.

The hatzala guy comes and tries to convince me to go to the hospital. But it's almost shabbos, I just want to take a shower and it's probably nothing.

6:50.

They tell me to get into the back of the ambulance. I wonder how I could go to the hospital on shabbos. I wonder if I am being stupid and it is really nothing. I wonder how I could not light shabbos candles when I've lit them every week since I was three.

The guy says it's my life and the worst that can happen is it is nothing but it wasn't a waste of a trip.

My phone rings. It says home. I pick it up expecting my mother. It's my brother. My brother who doesn't talk to me. My brother who doesn't care. He asks me how I am. I tell him they are saying I should go to the hospital but I don't want to. He tells me to go to the hospital and he is coming with me.

I cry again.

My friend runs inside to put down our purses and phones since most likely we will walk back on shabbos.

I am strapped to a gurney riding in the back of an ambulance for the first time, sirens blaring and all.

I think, at least it's an experience.

7:22.

It is shabbos and I am in the hospital.

After a 2 hour wait I am discharged. Just like I thought, it was nothing, just a bit of pain and soreness. They give me motrin.

We walk back. It is a 45 minute walk. I am in my jean skirt. I wonder what people think when they see me. But now I know you can't judge.

I get home. It is shabbos. My family is in middle of a meal. My mother hugs me and cries. I am done crying for one day.

Baruch Hashem it was not a serious accident. My first and hopefully last.

Shabbos was restful even though I wish I had gotten a chance to take a shower.

Sunday was wedding day... more excitement to come in the next installment of 'The longest eight minutes of my life."