THAT girl

Do you really want to be THAT girl? The one that people can't stand? The one about whom people say, 'you are not my mother', or 'yes mom', in a very condescending eye-rolling sarcasm-filled voice?

Who does?

Who wants to be their mom? I love my mother, but really?

"Turn off the lights when you leave a room. Wash your dishes.Take out the garbage please."

Do you want to be THAT girl? The one who chides her friend about drinking too much? Or points out when a girl's skirt is too short?

Do you want to be the girl who feels it is her job to put others in their places? Do you want to be the girl who everyone tells to 'live a little', the one who seems to everyone to be too serious and responsible? Like the world makes it seem like being responsible is a thing to be pitied. At least in your early twenties it is. But then when you become a mom you are expected to be responsible, and if you are still a 'party girl', they pity you for that.

Do you want to be the girl who gets all up in everyone's business?

From a simple request- "Turn off the light when you leave a room"- cuz really, why leave all the lights burning when nobody is home-  comes all these questions.

So tell me- who do you want to be? The girl who doesn't care about anything at all, the girl where everything flows, the girl who says live and let live, your life is not my problem, do whatever you want, it doesn't concern me, we have nothing to do with each other?

Or do you want to be the one about whom they say, 'Oh, did someone ask you to monitor the electricity?'

No. But is there something wrong with being a little responsible? Will it kill you to turn off the light?

And why, I ask, does everybody hate THAT girl?

Outsider

It is the laws of human nature to want to be accepted.
To want to be a part of something,
rather than being on the outside looking in.

Inside, the warmth surrounds,
but does not fill.

Like sitting near a blazing fire
but feeling cold inside.

The laughter abounds,
the chatter and gossip passed around.

A silent listener,
merely an observer.

But never one of them.

There is a house, a new one now.
So different than it used to be.

Right next door, it stood.
That house is gone now.

But even then, it was you against them
and them and the world against you.
They always won.

None of this is yours to claim,
since you don't share their name.

You can pretend, like children do,
but family is a strong bond, and you are not a part.

The light, the laughter, the company-
it is all borrowed, to be returned at the end of the night.

When relatives come pouring inside
from all corners of the world.

You serve them tea,
and then you leave, your time is up.

Forever will you be standing at the window
on the outside looking in.

Looking in at a family so close,
a family that is not your own.

What guys do when it's cold outside

Wear a scarf with their suit jacket and walk with hands in their pockets. Well that ought to do it.

Tonight

Tonight,
I think of you.

I write things that I cannot say.
I think of things that I cannot talk about.

I know tomorrow will come in a few short hours.
But that knowledge does not help this night pass any faster.

I smile to let the world know that I'm okay.
But inside, I am struggling.

These are things I cannot tell you.
These are things you will never know.

But if I had a diary,
I would have filled volumes by now.

Bottled up
it stays.

Until one day
it all blows up.

Tomorrow will be a new day.
But tonight- tonight will never end.

I don't celebrate Thanksgiving

Seeing as everyone is saying 'Happy Thanksgiving', I feel compelled to add my own non-Thanksgiving day post.

My family doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving as a rule of thumb. Sometimes we 'happen' to have turkey and pumpkin pie on the Shabbos near Thanksgiving. That's about it.

I know there are frum Jews who are traditional and have an official Thanksgiving dinner with family. Whether or not I would agree that we should or should not be acknowledging holidays of the non-Jews, I hope everyone enjoys their turkey dinners and their time with their families.

In my mind every day should be a day of thanks, and every Shabbos should be a time with family to wine and dine and enjoy each other's company. Why just once a year.

I am most thankful for 2 things: The fact that I was born a Jew, and that my parents became religious through Chabad, so I am a Lubavitcher today. (That is one thing.) And I am thankful that I am American, that I have the freedom and privileges that come along with living in this great country. In that order.

G-d bless America!

Now as I said, since I don't celebrate thanksgiving, (but I do have a day off from work), I am now off to buy boots.

Peace! (Love and Harmony.)

P.S. (20 minutes later...) Apparently all stores are closed on Thanksgiving?? Guess I'm celebrating this holiday by default ;) Oh well, boots will have to wait. 

The tale of 4 working girls

There once were 4 best friends,
inseparable were they.
They spoke and texted on the phone,
and saw each other every day.

Till one of them got busy,
a job she did obtain.
Left the other 3 to wither
outside in the rain.

Then another, she got hired,
on her way she went.
Until just two were left,
And together time they spent.

Then suddenly, there was one,
and all the friends were gone.
What to do, where to go,
how to carry on?

Yes friends they still remained,
but their lives ran different paths.
Could those 4 friends stay together,
would their friendship last?

What if one got married,
and happily she'd sing,
while showing off to her friends,
her sparkly diamond ring?

What if one friend moved away,
across the continent?
Could those 4 friends remain,
without an argument?

4 singles,
3 singles,
2 singles,
just one?

I wish I had the answer,
but I could only wonder.
Would those 4 friends stick together,
Or would they be torn asunder?

Christmas has come early to Pupa

They may not know it, but they strung a whole bunch of Christmas lights in the street, for the Pupa wedding.

Pupa Chassunah
On Monday evening, November 14, Dovid Rubin married the daughter of Rabbi Meir Yechiel Mechel Deutsch, Pupa Rosh Kollel, and granddaughter of Rabbi Yaakov Yechezkel Grunwald, Pupa Rebbe. The chassan is the son of Rabbi Yekusiel Yehuda Rubin, rosh yeshiva in the Satmar Yeshiva and son of Rabbi Moshe Chaim Rubin, Monsey Dinover Rebbe.

Hey I'm not faulting them. They would not know better. But forgive me for thinking it looks like a Winter Wonderland. A pretty Winter Wonderland.

The lights are still there. Oh holiday season, you are right around the corner.

I feel pretty

"I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and gay".

Remember when the definition of gay was simply happy?

Gay: having or showing a merry, lively mood: gay spirits; gay music.
Gay suggests a lightness of heart or liveliness of mood that is openly manifested: when hearts were young and gay.

I had a really nice time over Shabbos with friends. Although why people assume you are drunk when you laugh a lot is beyond me.

As the great Mark Twain said: "Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand."

May your nights and days be filled with laughter and merryment, and may you be forever gay.

Good moods are catchy. Hope you are smiling :)

College Essay???

To the person who inspired this post: you know who you are.

I like Starbucks as much as the next person. From an objective point of view, I like the decor, the ambiance, the music, the chairs. It has a very young hip chilled kind of feel to it. It makes you want to come in and sit down. In fact, I am pretty sure that lady on the front of Starbucks whispers to you as you pass by. "Coooome insiiiiide". So quietly you are not even sure you heard it. Don't believe me? Then explain to me why Starbucks is so full and it's hard to find a seat.

I don't drink coffee. Shocked? I wrote a post about it awhile back. I don't like hot beverages of any kind, besides for soup which is considered a food. I think tea is strictly for the elderly or the British. I see no reason to drink it unless I'm dying. And by that time I doubt it'll help.

The only form of coffee I allow myself is the iced kind. My father is actually very 'into' coffee and he buys his own coffee beans, grinds them and makes fresh coffee daily. My mother is also the most devoted tea drinker, she has a cup of tea almost every night before bedtime. You can understand why it is I feel that I'm adopted.

So how did I find myself in Starbucks? I went there to write a college essay, and I'm not even in college. Ya, I'm confused too.

I sat there waiting for my friend to show up. I naively agreed to 'help' her write her essay. I ordered an iced coffee. The particular Starbucks I went to attracts a lot of frum Jews as it's very close to Crown Heights. I saw two couples there on dates. No one I know thankfully, but really, why go to Starbucks on a date and risk the possibility of being seen by someone you know? (I liked the girls orange top, I should have totally gone over to compliment her.)

I drank the iced coffee, and I now feel like I have a hangover. Honest to G-d, the caffeine went straight to my head. I didn't get a jolt of energy, I got an instant headache of which I am still suffering from some few hours later. My friend insisted I drink ice water to quell the pain, although it didn't do much.

College essay. Right. After 4 hours of back and forth negotiation, I kid you not, I agreed to read and summarize the book for her and have her write the 6-10 page essay. I regret it already.

Morals, you ask? Well I'm not writing it for her. I was firm on that point, despite her enticing offer of sushi. (Of which I will take her up on on Motzei Shabbos.)

I thought I was a pushover but I guess I am stronger than I thought. I refused to sign the contract that she drew up, claiming I needed my lawyer present. (I don't have a lawyer.) It stated that I agreed to write the essay for her, which I did not. And that breaching the contract is unconstitutional. Which it is not.

I am going to read a boring book about the 28 principals on which the constitution is based. I have absolutely no interest in reading this book.

Oh, and I 'have' to do it by Motzei Shabbos.

The things we do for the people we dislike like.

A woman's handbag

Tis a mystery to men. "What do you carry in there? Why do you need such a big purse?" They just don't get it.

It brings to mind the scene from Marry Poppins, where she pulls lamps and impossibly large items out of her purse. Yes, that is comical in nature, but most women, or the smart ones, come prepared.

It was a joke in the summer with the people I worked with. Every time someone asked for something they knew Altie had it in her bag. Tissue? Here you go. Siddur? No problem. Hand sanitizer? The nice scented kind. Lip gloss? Check. I even had a comb in there for some reason. (Don't ask why, I don't use a comb.)

A friend of mine enjoys going through people's purses. Not in a clepto kind of way, I think she just has an interest as to what other people keep in there. I don't mind usually. It's not like I'm hiding a gun in there.

Items found in my purse:

Wallet. Keys. Siddur. Phone charger. Ipod. Ipod charger. Tylonal. Lipstick. Hand sanitizer. Tissues. A whole bunch of odds and ends, like an electronic card to an arcade place, old receipts, random business cards. Always a few pens. I used to keep a notebook there used for jotting stuff down when necessary. But that's gone.

Okay sounds pretty typical. I don't carry shoes or a change of clothes with me. I don't really carry much makeup since mine thankfully usually stays good until the end of the day.

How bout you? Any unusual wacky items you keep in your purse?

A woman's purse is a mystery to men. And that is how it is meant to be.

2 Strangers in the Rain

Rain falling down around me.
I'm not really sure I can feel it on my skin.
My glasses are dotted with raindrops.
Who needs an umbrella?

He stands next to me.
Quietly.
2 strangers in a city,
him and I.

Horns sound all around.
The noise just doesn't stop.
Ahhh, New York.
The city of Noise.

A bus pulls away.
A car comes out of no where.
They almost collide.
Oh it's on now.

They both beep.
Who will give in.
Who will go first.
The bus lurches forward, trying to get ahead of the car.

Slams on the breaks.
The car won't budge.
The bus stalls.
Engine fail.

Haha.
The car got ahead.
The bus was held up.
Restarted the engine and pulled away.

Typical day in New York City.
Waiting for the crash that didn't come.
I laugh to myself.
Cuz it's funny. Familiar.

The guy next to me says,
"So many horns beeping".
And I turn to him with a smile and say,
"This is New York. It's normal."

And for just a second,
him and I
2 strangers in the rain
Shared a moment. An inside joke.

Then the bus came.
We both got on.
Went our separate ways.
And that was it.

But there was still a small smile
playing on my lips.
New York.
The city I hate, the city I love.

Lucy?

A lady walked into the office and she didn't speak English. I asked her who she was looking for and she said Lucy. The only person in the office who I didn't know was the cleaning lady who comes on Tuesdays so I went to find her and said are you Lucy? She said yes so I let her know someone was looking for her. She started following me then stopped and said, "I'm not Lucy".

I went to the front to ask the lady who is Lucy, she pointed to herself saying "I'm Lucy".

Turned out she walked in randomly looking for a cleaning job, but alas we were not hiring. We already employ a Lucy (?) or whatever her name is.

2 Lessons to be learned from this:

1) LEARN HOW TO SPEAK ENGLISH!!

2) Don't follow me if your name is not Lucy.

I 'love' you (not) (Repost)

This is a repost. The original post was written on February 20 2009 and can be found here.

I'm standing on the train and across from me is a young couple, so obviously in love. they can't keep their hands and eyes (and mouths) away from each other. He keeps whispering sweet nothings in her ear, to which she responds with blushes. And their 'conversation', if it can be called such, is peppered with the phrase 'I love you' too many times to count, and usually ends off with 'baby', or some other endearment. So obviously in love.

Too graphic for you? Ya, I was there. My eyes were averted the whole time, wishing I was somewhere else. I don't understand why people feel the need to broadcast their 'love' for the world to see. Or maybe I do understand, all too well.

Love. Such a strong word. So complicated, and yet, so simple. A word with such meaning behind it, so much potential. It is a universal term, used in every culture and religion, though its form may change.

Life is dependant upon love. Without love you can not truly live. You may think you are living, but in reality, you are merely existing, being. your heart is pumping, your body is moving, you can think, speak, and simply be. But this is not really life at all.

If G-d wanted us to exist on our own, He would have created each of us on our own little independent planet, where we could command our own universe, and enjoy our singular company, and never have to see another face.

But He created this world with billions of people in it. He wants us to interact, to live together in peace and harmony. We each have a purpose here. We are each traversing our own specific path in life. But along the way, we will rub shoulders with many strangers, and have to learn how to live, and get along with them.

Every person was born with the amazingly powerful ability to love, and be loved in return. It's like a storehouse, where it collects, and sits, and grows. At the right time, we can let it out, and endow it upon those special people in our life who are deserving of it.

As we go through life, we need to decide to whom we give this love. Unfortunately, many times we make mistakes, or misjudge a particular situation, and give this love to undeserving people. They may actually hurt us, or use it against us, or disregard it entirely, and throw it back in our faces.

The outcome is different with every person. With some people, their trust may have been so badly shattered, that they lock the love up inside, and are overly careful to guard it next time. If this happens to often, they may never feel comfortable with sharing this love, causing people to make the incorrect assumption that they are incapable of loving, when of course this isn't true, since every human, living being is capable of feeling love.

Other people may decide that they made a mistake this time, so must try harder next time, and might keep throwing around their love and getting hurt time and time again.It is all a matter of trust.

A word represents the definition, the meaning behind it. The word itself is important because of what it means, and they way you use it will change the sentence, or the outcome.

The word 'love' has much meaning behind it. It represents feelings and emotions, caring, and kindness, and sharing, giving and taking, having and holding. If used the right way, this one word can mean the world to someone. It can be used to communicate how one feels towards another.

But people misuse this word. They drag it through the mud, they say it without thinking, thereby causing it to mean nothing, lowering it.

I love my family. I love my close friends. It is a love I am certain of, I don't doubt it. It is an unconditional love, and I am comfortable telling them I love them. I don't need to proclaim this love, because it is known. However, I will say it when i feel it. When you feel extremely close to someone, or you are in an emotional mood, you may tell someone you love them, because that's what you're feeling at the time. And that's healthy.

The problem is when people say it, and don't mean it. I do someone a favor. They tell me, 'thanks so much, I love you!' I bake really good brownies. they say, 'Oh my G-d, I love you!' I help a girl with an assignment. She says, 'your the best, I love you!'

And I want to scream, No you don't! You don't love me, you don't mean it, so don't say it!
Because they are abusing the term, the feelings that are meant to be had behind it, and it bothers me.

My friends know me. I am very careful with saying 'I love you'. Meaning, I hardly ever say it. We have this joke going. My friend will say, 'Altie I loooove you!!', and I answer back, 'I like you toooo!' Only it's not really a joke, its how I feel.

They tell me, 'Oh you know you love me!' Maybe. I don't know. Again, it's a matter of trust. If in the past I was certain that I loved someone, and then they broke that trust, it will take me longer to trust someone now.

I'm sitting in a restaurant, and at the next table over is an older couple, your typical Grandma and Grandpa. They sit in silence, no words exchanged throughout the whole meal. They don't even seem to be looking to each other.

I puzzle over this, and conclude they must have had an argument, or be bored in each others company. But then I notice something strange. they are each using only one hand to eat with, and the second hand is not in sight.

I look closer and realize, they are holding hands under the table, and have not let go once during the meal. The husband glances briefly at his wife, and there is a look of such utter and pure love in his eyes, I feel my heart twist, and a tear forms in my eye. this couple is so in love, and by the looks of it, have been for many years.

There is no need for words, or public gestures. The knowledge of it between them, alone, is enough. This love is like old wine. the longer it sits, the sweeter it gets.

When a couple starts out in life, there may not be love, per se. In real life, people don't meet and fall in love, and have sparks of feelings, and live happily ever after. Maybe in books, or movies.

In life, a couple gets married if there is attraction between them, mutual respect, friendship, feelings. Yes, there must be feelings, and you may like this person. But most often the love comes later on. After living with him for awhile, seeing his flaws and faults, enjoying his company, and getting to know him, then the love will come. There's a certain point in a relationship, and when you pass it, you just know. You feel it in your heart. That is true love.

In other languages, Spanish, for example, there is more than one word for the English word 'love'. You don't 'love' your car the same way you love your family, or even your dog. They have more than one word to express the different types of feelings.

In the English language, there is only one word. There are advantages, and disadvantages to this. On the one hand, it should cause you to think twice before you say it, and be careful to say it only when you mean it. But then there are people who abuse it, and use it for every situation, and in every context.

Sometimes they feel uncertain. they doubt this love so much themselves, that they feel a need to prove to the world that they are actually in love. Thus the behavior of the couple on the train.

If you are comfortable, and certain of the love, it won't matter whether other people believe you are in love, or see it. The only people it will matter to is you, and the object of your love.

If you view it as precious pearls, you'll be way more careful how and when you use it. Make sure to let those special people in your life know that you love them, even if it hurts you to admit it. You never know if this time may be the last time.

Don't horde it, or lock it up and throw away the key. But don't leave the door wide open for every stranger to come in and walk all over your heart.

'Love can touch us one time, and last for a lifetime'.

It is so powerful. Only you have the key.

Use it wisely.

The world we live in

"I Googled him, and it came up 'No results found.' So clearly, he is not a person."

When you meet a new person do you:

A) Google them.

B) Look them up on Facebook.

C) None of the above.

If you answered C, I would assume you are either old, or computer illiterate.

What are the benefits of NOT googling someone, and learning about them through actual contact and conversation? Like how they did it in the 'good ole days' and got to know someone by asking them questions about themselves.

I watched a show in which two people who met agreed to not search each other online before the date. One of them ended up breaking the agreement, and everything he found out about the girl put him off so much so that he couldn't talk to her normally.

The quote above is from a TV show. And while it is a funny sentiment, it is a sad truth about our society.

It is both a major benefit and a major hindrance, the way we as a society put our trust in the internet, believe what we read and judge people based on that.

Thoughts?

My Mama always said...

Did you always do what your mother told you to do? I mean as a kid. When my father told me not to pick my bowl up to my face to drink the rest of the cereal and milk, I waited till he left the room and did it anyway. Even as adults we hear our parents voices echoing in our heads. Don't touch that before you wash your hands. Its rude to point. Say excuse me. Hopefully we have come to internalize these messages.

Did your mother ever tell you not to cross the street by yourself? When I was a kid I was told I could cross by myself but only at the corner. This was very frustrating as we lived smack in middle of a long block and each corner was equally far away.

Did you always listen?

I saw a frum kid standing by the corner by himself. I ws thinking to ask him if he needed help. But he stopped a frum guy and asked him in yiddish to help him cross the street.

I thought this was cute. I guess some kids really do listen.

But what compels us to listen and obey the rules set forth for us? Because we understand them? A kid doesnt understand what danger is but he responds to the sound of his parents voice when he runs into the street. We hope that they have our best interest at heart and know what they are doing otherwise why are we following such stringent laws?

At what point do we stop taking it on good authority and decide for ourselves the rules?

There are always rules in life. Some we choose to follow, and some we disobey. If we disregard a red light, we will get a traffic ticket. Therefore most drivers will not run a red light. They can immediately see the repercussions of their actions.

But what about situations in which we can tell ourselves, it won't really affect us? Or further, it will only affect US so why would anyone else care?

That is in essence what we say every time we cross in middle of traffic, or don't pay taxes, or go to work late.

It is all about taking responsibility for your actions and realizing that there are rules for a reason.

That little boy was told to ask a grown up to help him cross the street. So he did. I wonder how long he would have waited for someone to come until he gave up and crossed by himself.

We were brought up with rules. But there comes a point in time when no one is watching you anymore, no one is telling you what is right and what is wrong. And at that point you must make your own rules, your own decisions regarding set rules.

And hopefully, by the time we get to that point, we will have been prepared enough to make the right decision.

Funny Friday

Found here

I particularly like #8 :)

People have added their own, such as:

Keep your foot between the doors, and say to others that you are expecting a friend... After a while, let the doors close and then ask loundly: Hey Derp, how was your day?..... Then smile to others and whisper: I'm sorry that i'm shouting, my friend is half deaf....

Open your purse/bag and ask "Is there air enough in there?"

Have any funny ones to add?

This was cute too.

Hope you had a good laugh. Wishing everyone a wonderful Shabbos (shawbis).

-Altie

Night owl

I am a creature of the night. I should ask my mother, maybe if I was born at night it would all make sense. I love being awake at night when the house is dark and quiet and everyone is asleep. Two years ago I had a wacky schedule and was up late pretty much every night. I kind of liked it.

But alas, now I have a job. Yup. I forgot to tell you. I got a job. And I pay my own rent and I buy my own food and do my own laundry. No I don't expect anyone to pat me on the back and say good for you, you're a grown up now. But you know what? It feels damn good.

Today I bought a bottle of beer (for a friend, I don't really like beer) and they carded me. I think cuz I walked up to the counter smiling. I guess I don't yet have the whole 'nonchalant' down pat yet. So I smiled in an innocent kind of way and said really, you need id? He said really. I thought he'd just glance at it but he took out his reading glasses like he was getting ready to read a book and he perused that license like he was looking for a fake.

He made some sort of comment about me only recently turning 21. I said ya I don't use my id much to buy alcohol.

When will I stop feeling like a kid and start thinking of myself as a grown up? I think maybe when I get my first credit card. I'll let you know.

I was just rereading old blog posts of mine. It is so nice to take a trip down memory lane. I think I will start reposting some of the better ones, for those of you who never had the time to go through my archives, and just because some of them were really good.

I had a feeling, it's hard to explain. But it kind of felt like that girl from 2 years ago and the me here and now are 2 different people. I feel like I have changed a lot since then, and not all of it has been good.

That's another reason I like having a blog, it is like a window to my past. I can read old posts and relive it and remember exactly what I was thinking and feeling when I wrote it. I love it.

Although there is a part of me that wishes I could reclaim some of the naivete? Serenity? More like, inquisitional, that part of me that always questioned and dove into myself and tried to find the answers. I'm not sure if I have already found some of the answers or I have just stopped looking.

So although I want to go back in time and reclaim those feelings I put into my posts, I can't. And like everyone, I have my good days and my bad days, and I have dealt with a lot of change in the past 3 years. A lot. I have grown up a lot and discovered things about myself and other people.

I can't entirely say that I am happy where I am right now, but if I did that wouldn't be good either. We can't be stagnant we need to be constantly going up. Not down.

I miss those days where I stayed up all night and slept all day and did nothing and my life was empty and carefree. Sounds nuts, right? But it's late and I have work in the morning (I love the sound of that) and it's a good thing.

Attention world: I've grown up! It's a good thing.

I feel bouncy. Honest to G-d, I hate mood swings. I really do. But I just spoke to my mother, and I feel like I can climb the biggest mountain and get to the top.

Enough rambling. Good night world, and look out for some of my old posts in the next few days. Like they say, an oldie but goodie.

My sister (I dunno if she still reads my blog) once said that my posts are fabulous and thought provoking. I don't know what she would say of them now, but I would like to try and reignite that style of posting. Any suggestions are welcome.

My wish to all of you tonight is that you find true meaning in your life. A meaningful life is one worth living.

Be well.

Subway Folly

I felt a tap
light as air
wasn't sure that it was there.

I turned around to see who
had the audacity
to touch me.

She looked at me
right in the eye
and asked to go by.

That's 3 mishaps I counted
Three!
That this girl has done to me.

She touched me!
Oh my!
I think I'll now cry!

She looked me in the eye!
Oh the glare!
Oh the stare!

she asked to go by?
She spoke to me?
How wrong! can you agree?

I let her go
all the while
thinking what a weird child.

The subway
no less!
She doesn't know better, I guess.

Shaken and confused
I let her go.
Maybe she doesn't know.

On the subway
you dont look
anywhere but in a book.

On the subway
you dont hear
besides the music in your ear.

On the subway
you dont touch.
Besides the pole which you clutch.

If you dare to deter
from the unspoken rule
beware, people are cruel.

It was nice not knowing you
it was nice to not talk.
on a subway full of people
I'd rather not get stalked.

Mystic

I like fog because if makes the colors of the traffic lights bleed. Like when you dab paint on a piece of paper and then drop some water on it and watch as the color spreads to the edges of the paper.

Fog makes everything look blurry. Shrouds everyone in a cloud of mystery. Is that a person or is that a ghost? I wonder.

Fog is like a sleepy blanket, covering the world in its film.

I would not recommend driving in foggy weather, but on a foggy night, I like to be outside, because it is such a cool sight.

I watch people fade into the distance until they are gone, swallowed whole by the creature of the night.

I breath out and my breath curls and I want to be the fog, light as air.

Though tomorrow will come and it will be sunny and the mystery will be gone, tonight the fog floats.

Mysterious.

Food for thought

I watch from afar with a small smile playing on my lips, knowing that these people's comments are all directed at me, only they have no idea who I am. It is kind of like an out of body experience.

You don't need many people to agree with you to know you are right. Although agreeable comments do fortify my opinion in that regard.

I am a simple person by nature. I like simplicity versus complicated, and I like calm as opposed to chaos. I try not to start arguments nor debates, not because I have nothing to say on the topic but because sometimes it is better not to unleash the demons you would like to remain hidden.

Some people might call me naive or say I 'have my head stuck in the sand'. But at the end of the day, when it all boils down and evaporates, what is left after all the steam? What exactly is the substance in life?

If I can say I am a good person and today I did something nice for someone and made them smile, then no steam in all the world can bring me down.

All I'm saying is, sometimes arguing will get you no where, but a simple kind word or gesture can bring people closer together.

Food for thought.

Little baby

Little baby,
look at me.

Light as air you rest
in the crook of my arm.

Little baby
can't you see.

I am here
to protect you from any harm.

Little baby
Your aunt I'll always be.

I'll always love you.
Even when we are apart.

Little baby
I feel your steady beating heart.

Little baby
open your eyes

Look into mine.
The beginning of your journey in time.

Little baby
Peace descends upon me.

I watch you slumber.
As I rock you gently.

I smile at you.
So little and fragile.

A new life.
A miracle.

A week and a day old.
As your story unfolds.

And for one short hour.
You are mine to hold.

Love you precious babe.

Tear drop

In the dark I let the tears flow.

I can't help it.

They drift slowly lazily down my cheaks.

It is the dark like a blanket that reassures me that nobody can see me
crying. That no one can hear me sniffling.

I clench my teeth and will it to stop.

I can explain away my emotions as a bad day. As discouragement.

But I know it is deeper than that.

As I watch the twinkling lights go by through the window I pull myself together and wipe my running mascara. I will move on like I always do.

Cuz crying will get you no where.

Even if it feels good to indulge.

I close my eyes exhausted and hope to G-d I have the strength to overcome all of life's challenges.

The sun will come out tomorrow

I always loved the song from Annie:

The sun'll come out

Tomorrow

Bet your bottom dollar

That tomorrow

There'll be sun!

Just thinkin' about

Tomorrow

Clears away the cobwebs,

And the sorrow

'Til there's none!

When I'm stuck a day

That's gray,

And lonely,

I just stick out my chin

And Grin,

And Say,

Oh

The sun'll come out

Tomorrow

So ya gotta hang on

'Til tomorrow

Come what may

Tomorrow!

Tomorrow!

I love ya

Tomorrow!

You're always

A day

A way!

Shabbos day the weather was so clear. I like winter days that despite the chill in the air the sun warms you and makes everything seem fresh and bright.

Last night the sky was so clear and the moon was so bright. I watched men saying kiddush levana on my way home from my brother's house.

It is funny how easy it is to forget that tomorrow is a new day. And yet every time I  talk to my mother she reminds me.

"Just relax and go to sleep and everything will be better in the morning."

She's always right. And it always is.

And if you ever feel like when will this misery end, remember, it is already tomorrow in Australia!

Unravel

Have you ever pulled at a loose thread on your shirt, or a carpet? Watch the thread unravel, as more and more pulls out.

Try pushing the thread back into the hole. It cannot be done.

Sometimes things unravel so much that they can't be fixed.

Sometimes we diverse so far from the truth that we forget where it is we started.

And when we see snapshots of ourselves, or read previous conversations, we cannot believe that that was really us.

Sometimes it takes something big to jolt us back to reality.

But the problem is when we have a hard time deciding what is reality, exactly.

Things change. People change. Sometimes for better and sometimes for worse.

We wish we could hold onto the past, but sometimes it is just better to let it go.

And move on.

3 years and 600 posts later...

A bloggaversary is much like a birthday in the sense that it is a time to celebrate an accomplishment. I stuck to something for 3 years. Funny. I always thought I have a hard time committing.

For this 3 year mark I want to answer 3 questions: Why I started blogging, why I still blog, and why I plan on continuing to blog.

I started blogging randomly. The who what where when and how of it is unimportant. But I liked having an outlet for all the brilliant thoughts that pop into my head.

I still blog because it helps me sort out my thoughts, I like that I have an audience, and it is a stepping stone G-d willing to my future career as a writer.

I plan on continuing my blog because even though I don't feel it every day, and even though not all of my posts reflect it, I know that I have something to share, and that there are people out there who are inspired by what I write. And I want to be able to inspire others.

The past 3 years:

I've made random weird blogging friends and acquaintances.

I've had practical jokes played on me.

I've evoked emotion in other people.

I've made myself question and think.

I've become a better person through my blog.

I hope to still be blogging in 3 years from now, despite the G-d willing constraints on my time that a husband and family will bring.

I do hope you all have enjoyed my blog, and feel free to leave a comment as to which posts you have particularly enjoyed or identified with.

Moving on :)

That's not my problem

Call me a New Yorker, (a title I am at times proud to call myself), call me obnoxious, call me whatever you want. But sometimes, I just don't care.

It is said that New Yorkers are always in their own little world, don't pay attention to anyone around them, and are deaf to the sound of a cry for help. While some of this may be true, it is evident by events such as 9/11 that as a people we all come together when it is really needed. Much like a family. Okay, a dysfunctional family.

I'd say this excerpt from a review on the new TV show '2 broke girls' describes New York City in a nutshell: "Subway indifference: When Max gets accidentally tasered on the subway by a sleeping Caroline, she collapses to the ground while the other train riders completely ignore her. When she gets up, she shouts, “I’m good. Thanks for the help, New York.” Sounds about right: The activities that subway passengers will not take out their earbuds for are boundless."

So we are indifferent. That doesn't mean when you need us we won't be there. But sometimes it's really not my problem.

Which brings me to favors. I am a sucker for saying yes. Ask me for a favor and I'd rather say yes than disappoint you. Does that make me a wimp? Or a really nice person?

But imagine this scenario:

Someone asks you to pick up something of theirs which someone else brought in for them from out of town, and drop it off at another person's house so it can finish its journey and end up at their door. They don't tell you exactly what the items are so you don't know if you will be able to carry them or not.  Then when you graciously agree to help them out you get to the address they told you and low and behold! It's the wrong house. Apparently the people who lived there are now dead.

Thankfully, the real and very much alive family lives 2 doors down. Next step: Knock on their door. No answer. Okay, call them. But no number. Their name is impossible to spell, not to mention you aren't even sure it's the right house.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. Confirmation of correct address, but they are not home.

After all this, you've wasted a good 45 minutes of your day and are rightfully frustrated.

And then the person asked you to try again another time. Really?

If I didn't like her so much I would have told her what I really thought.

If, (and I say if since it is a rare occurrence,) I ever ask people for a favor this is what I would do:

Call the people who brought in the package, make sure they are home, arrange a time when the person I have asked to pick it up can come, etc. I like when things are organized and coordinated so as not to put people out.

End of story: I finally stopped by there one day on my way home from work after much friendly cajoling on the friend's part. Annnnndddd.... (drum roll please) they told me the package was already dropped off at the person in mention's relatives house. And she never bothered to tell me. (Okay, I did keep telling her that I 'forgot' to arrange to pick it up but that was my nice way of saying, find another sucker to do it.)

A wasted stop.

Now if this is not the place where I can use all the obnoxious New York energy I have built up, I don't know when is.

I would like to believe that I am a nice person. Sometimes more or less than others. There are many ways to be nice to people, and it doesn't always involve putting yourself out on the behalf of others.

Ask me for directions, I'm happy to help if I can. Ask me for a ride and if I had a car I'd give you one. Ask me for money and I'll lend you some if you need.

You know that joke that says, a good friend would bale you out of jail, but a true friend would be sitting there next to you saying, oh no we messed up?

Well, if you ever call me from jail, you better be real sure that we are true friends, otherwise:

"Sorry sweetie, that's not my problem."

Groan

Not that I am not an advocate of change, but c'mon, what was wrong with the old version?  What happened to older is better? Aged wine, wizened old folks. And the fact that I have no choice in the matter. Taking away my free choice. Soon, Google will rule the world!

P.S. This is my 600th post! I think that's something to celebrate :)

Everything

Emotions run through your hand like a current.
You want them to reach her, like electricity.
You want her to understand what you feel without having to say the words.

Because sometimes words just arent enough.
Sometimes there are no words.

And so you squeeze her hand tight.
As a lump forms in your throat.
And you just hope that it is enough.

You hope that she will understand all that you do not say.
All that you will never say.
But you feel.

Relationships are not built on words.
Sometimes the words "I love you" mean nothing.
And silence speaks volumes.

So I hug her tight.
And silently thank her.
For everything.