I have an urge to throw my phone across the room because I don't want to hear you talking anymore. Aggressive? Me? Not usually. I'm just tired. And frustrated. Because I hate this game. And you know it. And yet you force me to participate.
I love that you are trying. Once upon a time you left it upon my shoulders alone, and refused your help. Now, I don't care. It's just a game to me, a cruel game in which I seemingly have many disadvantages, and I am trying to make you understand why I am just so sick of playing.
They may think I am ill, because my hands are shaking, my foot is tapping, and I can't sit still. Nervous energy, they call it. Mostly because you called and left me 3 long messages, and I don't have the time or mental capacity to deal with it right now.
I just want you to understand that what might be okay for you might not be fine for me. What might be 'good enough' for you is not acceptable to me. We are very different. You may not understand me but I am trying my best to explain.
And when I am tired and frustrating, I just stop talking. Because I can't explain myself. Sometimes it is just too hard.
I just want normal. I want it so badly. Yes, normal has many definitions. Normal is subjective. But please, let me have my own form of normal. Let me define myself, my needs, my desires. Do not tell me what you think is good for me, because as well as you know me, I think I may know myself a little more.
You tell me it's okay. It's okay. You understand. I hope you do. But if not, you decided to respect me and not push it. And I appreciate that.
Because I just want you to understand my definition of normal.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
In Debt We Trust
We watched this video in class. Quite long, but very informative. As you can see, the National debt has grown in the last few years by a few trillion. Most likely it will keep going up.
We discussed how credit card companies push credit on people that they know cannot afford to pay it off. I was shocked to hear how young college students around my age are 15-20 thousand dollars in debt. It baffles me. How can you spend money that you don't have?
I have seen both sides of the coin. Growing up, in my house I knew what the word 'creditor' meant when I was very little. They were the 'bad' people who wanted money that we didn't have. When we got caller id, we learned not to answer when they called.
Talking about money usually makes me very uncomfortable. I hate owing people money, I hate borrowing money from people. I usually don't have a problem lending people money, but I feel bad asking them to repay me.
Understandably, growing up in a household where money was tight, one can go one of two ways- either follow in their parents' footsteps, and spend what they don't have. Or make the smart choice and budget well.
Here's the other side of the coin- my grandparents are very smart with their money. I know that they bought a house straight out. They don't believe in mortgages.
Contrary to what the video portrays, no one was throwing credit cards at me. In fact, I was denied the first few times I applied. The reason- I had no credit. 'Derrrr'. How can I get a credit card to build up credit if no one will give me a credit card because I have no credit?
I do now have one credit card. I pay it off regularly. I don't treat it like fake money. I only use it if I know I can pay it off within the month. I B"H have a nice sum of money in savings. I am proud of myself.
My mother said it is a great thing that I am doing. I don't think so. I think it is just common sense.
Then again, common sense isn't all that common.
With G-d's help, I hope to never know what it is like to be in debt, or, as a classmate put it, to be so 'Po' that I can't even afford the o and r.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Pro·fan·i·ty
Old man,
Stop embarrassing yourself,
and us,
When you 'cuss'
like a drunkard.
You sound like a fool,
not cool,
We don't talk like that.
At least not I.
I try.
Do you want to fit in?
Though not a sin,
you sound like the 'younguns'
with their pants half off.
Makes me cringe.
Does self-respect
mean nothing anymore,
You have tenure,
and a position of authority,
Professor at a University.
Yet you curse like,
you are one of 'us'.
Except you are not.
And never will be.
And we don't talk like that.
Please stop.
Get your mouth out of the gutter,
and start talking
as expected of
a man of your stature.
As old as
my grandparents,
and yet you curse like
a bum
from the slums.
And it doesn't make me
want to listen to you
very much.
No sir.
It does not.
When you curse like that.
Stop embarrassing yourself,
and us,
When you 'cuss'
like a drunkard.
You sound like a fool,
not cool,
We don't talk like that.
At least not I.
I try.
Do you want to fit in?
Though not a sin,
you sound like the 'younguns'
with their pants half off.
Makes me cringe.
Does self-respect
mean nothing anymore,
You have tenure,
and a position of authority,
Professor at a University.
Yet you curse like,
you are one of 'us'.
Except you are not.
And never will be.
And we don't talk like that.
Please stop.
Get your mouth out of the gutter,
and start talking
as expected of
a man of your stature.
As old as
my grandparents,
and yet you curse like
a bum
from the slums.
And it doesn't make me
want to listen to you
very much.
No sir.
It does not.
When you curse like that.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
Hangover
I think I'm drunk.
Not on happiness, or love.
No, none of those for me.
Not this year anyway.
I think I may be drunk.
As I watch the road blur in front of me.
Is the road wet?
Or are those tears in my eyes?
And why do I cry?
And why?
As the anger pours forth from me,
And I feel the wrath.
At Haman's name,
I stamp my feet,
And think of all the evil in the world,
And wish it to be gone.
Yes, even the evil that has touched me,
And I think that must be selfish,
But I want so very badly,
To be rid of these demons once and for all.
I think I may be drunk,
The lively music still playing in my head,
The gorgeous faces of the children,
The sticky cotton candy.
And the crumbs, oh the hamentashen crumbs.
They are everywhere.
Even on the dance floor.
And as I show my moves, the room blurs.
I wonder if this blackness
Which engulfs me on the
Supposedly happiest day of the year,
Can be drowned out in any way.
Will alcohol take off the edge?
Will it make the darkness that much lesser?
Will the evil in the world be gone,
along with my senses?
The music blasts in the car,
And I can't hear my own voice,
And that is probably for the best,
Because I think I may be screaming.
And as the barrier looms ever closer,
And I realize I may hit it,
I know it would be of my own doing,
Because alas, I am stone cold sober.
Not on happiness, or love.
No, none of those for me.
Not this year anyway.
I think I may be drunk.
As I watch the road blur in front of me.
Is the road wet?
Or are those tears in my eyes?
And why do I cry?
And why?
As the anger pours forth from me,
And I feel the wrath.
At Haman's name,
I stamp my feet,
And think of all the evil in the world,
And wish it to be gone.
Yes, even the evil that has touched me,
And I think that must be selfish,
But I want so very badly,
To be rid of these demons once and for all.
I think I may be drunk,
The lively music still playing in my head,
The gorgeous faces of the children,
The sticky cotton candy.
And the crumbs, oh the hamentashen crumbs.
They are everywhere.
Even on the dance floor.
And as I show my moves, the room blurs.
I wonder if this blackness
Which engulfs me on the
Supposedly happiest day of the year,
Can be drowned out in any way.
Will alcohol take off the edge?
Will it make the darkness that much lesser?
Will the evil in the world be gone,
along with my senses?
The music blasts in the car,
And I can't hear my own voice,
And that is probably for the best,
Because I think I may be screaming.
And as the barrier looms ever closer,
And I realize I may hit it,
I know it would be of my own doing,
Because alas, I am stone cold sober.
It started with a whisper...
It always starts with just a rug. And then it grows into a whole house.
I like buying things for other people. It makes them feel good, and consequently, I feel good about it. But I am really not that great at remembering birthdays or special days. Once in awhile I will get a burst of inspiration, a thought that I should send someone a gift, or a card. A wedding present, or maybe just money, since I am horrible at gift ideas. How much money should I give? Is it too late to give someone a wedding check 4 years later? Welcome to my brain.
Once I decide to do something nice... then I start thinking about every single person that I know whom I haven't sent a card or bought a gift for in awhile. I am an extremist. Either all or nothing. Everyone, or (usually) no one. So instead of sending just one Shaloch manos to one friend, the list grows bigger and bigger, more elaborate, more people.
Hmmm... should I give that lady who invited me to her Shabbos meal that one time? My first grade teacher? The crossing guard?
If I think to send my grandmother a birthday card, then it reminds me of all the relatives I have neglected over the years.
So I will either be sending many gifts with notes saying, "10 years too late but... Happy Birthday!".
Or I will save myself a headache and do nothing.
Happy Purim, and if you get a Shaloch Manos from me, just know that you hold a special place in my heart.
My (everything home-made even the frosting) Shaloch Manos:
I like buying things for other people. It makes them feel good, and consequently, I feel good about it. But I am really not that great at remembering birthdays or special days. Once in awhile I will get a burst of inspiration, a thought that I should send someone a gift, or a card. A wedding present, or maybe just money, since I am horrible at gift ideas. How much money should I give? Is it too late to give someone a wedding check 4 years later? Welcome to my brain.
Once I decide to do something nice... then I start thinking about every single person that I know whom I haven't sent a card or bought a gift for in awhile. I am an extremist. Either all or nothing. Everyone, or (usually) no one. So instead of sending just one Shaloch manos to one friend, the list grows bigger and bigger, more elaborate, more people.
Hmmm... should I give that lady who invited me to her Shabbos meal that one time? My first grade teacher? The crossing guard?
If I think to send my grandmother a birthday card, then it reminds me of all the relatives I have neglected over the years.
So I will either be sending many gifts with notes saying, "10 years too late but... Happy Birthday!".
Or I will save myself a headache and do nothing.
Happy Purim, and if you get a Shaloch Manos from me, just know that you hold a special place in my heart.
My (everything home-made even the frosting) Shaloch Manos:
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Depth perception
When your hand misses the light switch by a few feet...
When your pen somehow never makes it to your desk...
When you almost walk into a door because it looked closer than it was...
When your brain is tired you cannot accurately perceive depth.
When you are tired it is hard to translate your thoughts into words.
When you are tired the world seems to move in slow motion.
When you are tired your reflexes are slow.
Your guard is down.
Something that used to bother you may not even receive a passing thought.
Something that shouldn't bother you makes you so mad.
You can't explain it. The second you wake up and look at your clock and realize you are an hour late for work...
The whole day is thrown off.
When the person drinking coffee says 'I'm so tired', and you do not ever drink coffee nor can you drink coffee since it is a fast day and you just want to tell them- "You don't know what tired is".
When you have an urge to cry for no reason- I think it's time to get some sleep.
When your pen somehow never makes it to your desk...
When you almost walk into a door because it looked closer than it was...
When your brain is tired you cannot accurately perceive depth.
When you are tired it is hard to translate your thoughts into words.
When you are tired the world seems to move in slow motion.
When you are tired your reflexes are slow.
Your guard is down.
Something that used to bother you may not even receive a passing thought.
Something that shouldn't bother you makes you so mad.
You can't explain it. The second you wake up and look at your clock and realize you are an hour late for work...
The whole day is thrown off.
When the person drinking coffee says 'I'm so tired', and you do not ever drink coffee nor can you drink coffee since it is a fast day and you just want to tell them- "You don't know what tired is".
When you have an urge to cry for no reason- I think it's time to get some sleep.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
No good deed goes... unrewarded?
Good job, little boys and girls. Put away your toys, don't fight with your siblings, respect your parents, don't steal.
Don't steal. We are taught that at a young age. One of the commandments in Jewish law is to return a lost object that you found to its rightful owner. The law is so intricate, in fact, that if you see a loaf of bread lying in the street, you can not just pass it by, you must take it and find its owner. Only if you are certain that the owner has given up all hope of ever finding the lost item may you keep it.
Read this article about a brother and sister who found a large sum of money on the street, and returned it to its rightful owner. Clap clap clap. Yay them. Except, they weren't little kids. They were 21, and 25 years old. So what is so special about doing the right thing?
They were rewarded, they were praised, they were offered jobs and given $200 gift cards each, and an anonymous person bought the girl a laptop. All for doing something that is morally correct, and halchically required. The children's father even said that he 'was "in awe" of what they did.' Why? Why is it so shocking that 2 people would do the right thing instead of, say, keeping the money for themselves?
I think I will go around doing good deeds just to get noticed. And hey, a new laptop wouldn't hurt.
Don't steal. We are taught that at a young age. One of the commandments in Jewish law is to return a lost object that you found to its rightful owner. The law is so intricate, in fact, that if you see a loaf of bread lying in the street, you can not just pass it by, you must take it and find its owner. Only if you are certain that the owner has given up all hope of ever finding the lost item may you keep it.
Read this article about a brother and sister who found a large sum of money on the street, and returned it to its rightful owner. Clap clap clap. Yay them. Except, they weren't little kids. They were 21, and 25 years old. So what is so special about doing the right thing?
They were rewarded, they were praised, they were offered jobs and given $200 gift cards each, and an anonymous person bought the girl a laptop. All for doing something that is morally correct, and halchically required. The children's father even said that he 'was "in awe" of what they did.' Why? Why is it so shocking that 2 people would do the right thing instead of, say, keeping the money for themselves?
I think I will go around doing good deeds just to get noticed. And hey, a new laptop wouldn't hurt.
Monday, February 18, 2013
A tiny sliver of truth
I wondered when the words would dry up,
the page would go blank,
and my mind would stop thinking,
my heart would stop dreaming.
I wondered when I'd freeze up in fear,
paralyzed, unable to move.
Unaware, of the world out there,
shrunken to my tiny reality.
I hold his little body close to me,
as he drifts off to sleep.
I gasp, and he jumps,
startled awake.
I rock him gently and pat his back,
and tell him that everything will be okay,
that we are going to be just fine.
I know he believes me.
I believe it too.
I know I will be okay.
I know, because here I am,
years later, strong as ever, and still going.
I know, because every time life kicked me down,
I got right back up,
and laughed in its cruel face,
And steeled myself even more.
But sometimes,
I don't want to be just okay anymore.
Sometimes,
I don't want to be just fine.
Sometimes,
I want to scream to the world,
how I'm feeling,
Spray it on the wall for all to see.
Sometimes,
I want to get mad at how things turned out,
except I'm not really sure
where to address my anger.
I will be okay.
I will be just fine.
Sometimes,
that's a bitter pill to swallow.
the page would go blank,
and my mind would stop thinking,
my heart would stop dreaming.
I wondered when I'd freeze up in fear,
paralyzed, unable to move.
Unaware, of the world out there,
shrunken to my tiny reality.
I hold his little body close to me,
as he drifts off to sleep.
I gasp, and he jumps,
startled awake.
I rock him gently and pat his back,
and tell him that everything will be okay,
that we are going to be just fine.
I know he believes me.
I believe it too.
I know I will be okay.
I know, because here I am,
years later, strong as ever, and still going.
I know, because every time life kicked me down,
I got right back up,
and laughed in its cruel face,
And steeled myself even more.
But sometimes,
I don't want to be just okay anymore.
Sometimes,
I don't want to be just fine.
Sometimes,
I want to scream to the world,
how I'm feeling,
Spray it on the wall for all to see.
Sometimes,
I want to get mad at how things turned out,
except I'm not really sure
where to address my anger.
I will be okay.
I will be just fine.
Sometimes,
that's a bitter pill to swallow.
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Be Mine
Like putty in my hands
I move you, shape you
into something
that works for me.
I want you to be
my every dream
the one who completes me.
And sets me free.
But we
were never meant
to be together
you and I.
We try
over and over again
but then
we destroy each other.
Together
we are good.
And bad.
We make each other mad.
I'm sad
knowing that we
will never be friends
again.
But when
time moves on
and I'm able to see
more clearly.
I know that the best thing for me
is to let you go.
We both know
that we hurt each other.
Like a mother
who watches her child
walk away.
It's okay.
I know now
that without me
you will shine.
We will both be fine.
Because you were never meant to be Mine.
I move you, shape you
into something
that works for me.
I want you to be
my every dream
the one who completes me.
And sets me free.
But we
were never meant
to be together
you and I.
We try
over and over again
but then
we destroy each other.
Together
we are good.
And bad.
We make each other mad.
I'm sad
knowing that we
will never be friends
again.
But when
time moves on
and I'm able to see
more clearly.
I know that the best thing for me
is to let you go.
We both know
that we hurt each other.
Like a mother
who watches her child
walk away.
It's okay.
I know now
that without me
you will shine.
We will both be fine.
Because you were never meant to be Mine.
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Commit to the moment
I rush home from work, checking my phone for the time every step of the way. I arrive home, out of breath. 5:30 on the dot. Good timing. I quickly say hello to my roommate, asking her about her day. Sit down to a quick dinner, relishing every second I have to breath.
5:50. Got to go. Darting through foot traffic, trying to get around the slow walkers without appearing to be rude. I rush towards the Subway, and seeing the throng of people walking up the steps towards me, I know I've just missed the train. Oh well. On the days when I get on just at the last minute, I feel good about it, like leaving that extra minute early really helped.
This is my life now. I work full time, and I go to school full time. I'm exhausted all the time. I have no time. You see the pattern?
I love it, and I'm so proud of myself for what I'm doing. On my way to school after a long tiring day of work, I grumble in my head. Why am I doing this, I'm so tired, I don't want to drag myself out again. But then I tell myself, just do it. Just walk. Just go. Just this one class. Just these 2 hours. Then you will be able to go home and go to sleep.
I was never one for commitment. I dreaded the question, "So what are you doing in the summer? Or next year?" Who knows that far in advance. Certainly not I. I take it day by day. Semester by semester. And slowly, I'm doing it.
When your life is so full thank G-d, and you don't have a lot of time, you find yourself cherishing the time that you do have. The twenty minutes that I have from when I get home from work until I leave for school, feels like such a long time, because I can breath and relax a bit. My one night off a week feels like a vacation. My weekends stretch out forever.
The key is to commit to each moment. Nobody said anything about a lifetime. Whatever you are doing, whenever you are doing it, be THERE and only there. Forget about everything else. Forget about what you have to do tonight, tomorrow, next week. Forget about the phone call you must make, the report you have to do. Be in the moment and live in the moment, and make it the best moment you can.
I'm working towards a degree, and I hope to finish it, however long it takes. I see it as investing in my future. I know there's a chance I may never 'make it', but right here right now in this moment, I'm doing it. And that feels really good.
5:50. Got to go. Darting through foot traffic, trying to get around the slow walkers without appearing to be rude. I rush towards the Subway, and seeing the throng of people walking up the steps towards me, I know I've just missed the train. Oh well. On the days when I get on just at the last minute, I feel good about it, like leaving that extra minute early really helped.
This is my life now. I work full time, and I go to school full time. I'm exhausted all the time. I have no time. You see the pattern?
I love it, and I'm so proud of myself for what I'm doing. On my way to school after a long tiring day of work, I grumble in my head. Why am I doing this, I'm so tired, I don't want to drag myself out again. But then I tell myself, just do it. Just walk. Just go. Just this one class. Just these 2 hours. Then you will be able to go home and go to sleep.
I was never one for commitment. I dreaded the question, "So what are you doing in the summer? Or next year?" Who knows that far in advance. Certainly not I. I take it day by day. Semester by semester. And slowly, I'm doing it.
When your life is so full thank G-d, and you don't have a lot of time, you find yourself cherishing the time that you do have. The twenty minutes that I have from when I get home from work until I leave for school, feels like such a long time, because I can breath and relax a bit. My one night off a week feels like a vacation. My weekends stretch out forever.
The key is to commit to each moment. Nobody said anything about a lifetime. Whatever you are doing, whenever you are doing it, be THERE and only there. Forget about everything else. Forget about what you have to do tonight, tomorrow, next week. Forget about the phone call you must make, the report you have to do. Be in the moment and live in the moment, and make it the best moment you can.
I'm working towards a degree, and I hope to finish it, however long it takes. I see it as investing in my future. I know there's a chance I may never 'make it', but right here right now in this moment, I'm doing it. And that feels really good.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Tznius at the Grammys
We've all heard it for years: "Frum girls these days have a problem with tznius. We need to crack down on them now, to fix the problem. Skirts too short, legs too bare, clothes too tight, etc".
We all thought, 'ya ya, okay, so we can be better, but at least we don't dress like them'- them being 'the outside world'. We don't dress like girls looking for a good time, we don't show all we've got.
But the world finally got the memo- tznius is not just for frum girls anymore. Sit up and take notice.
In a memo sent out to the guests of this years Grammy awards ceremony, there are now strict dress codes in place. In short, the memo says what we all already know- that your private parts need to be kept private. As they say, common sense isn't all that common.
The website that leaked the memo, Deadline.com wrote: "Isn’t it pointless for CBS Standard And Practice to issue this ‘Wardrobe Advisory’ in advance of the 55th Annual Grammys broadcast this Sunday when nudity is the norm at that awards show?"
This is true. Who will actually abide by this? Will there be peer pressure to follow the rules, or peer pressure to defy the rules? After the Grammy awards on Sunday, there were countless articles about the stars that 'didn't get the memo', and showed too much flesh.
Do they enjoy showing off their private body, or are they so used to the pressure of competing, that when it comes down to it- they simply have a problem covering up?
I think we can all take a lesson from this when the world sits up and says- enough is enough. It is time to enforce the rules.
We all thought, 'ya ya, okay, so we can be better, but at least we don't dress like them'- them being 'the outside world'. We don't dress like girls looking for a good time, we don't show all we've got.
But the world finally got the memo- tznius is not just for frum girls anymore. Sit up and take notice.
In a memo sent out to the guests of this years Grammy awards ceremony, there are now strict dress codes in place. In short, the memo says what we all already know- that your private parts need to be kept private. As they say, common sense isn't all that common.
The website that leaked the memo, Deadline.com wrote: "Isn’t it pointless for CBS Standard And Practice to issue this ‘Wardrobe Advisory’ in advance of the 55th Annual Grammys broadcast this Sunday when nudity is the norm at that awards show?"
This is true. Who will actually abide by this? Will there be peer pressure to follow the rules, or peer pressure to defy the rules? After the Grammy awards on Sunday, there were countless articles about the stars that 'didn't get the memo', and showed too much flesh.
Do they enjoy showing off their private body, or are they so used to the pressure of competing, that when it comes down to it- they simply have a problem covering up?
I think we can all take a lesson from this when the world sits up and says- enough is enough. It is time to enforce the rules.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Palestinian Rights
You have the basic human right
To live
And breath
And exist,
As it is God's will.
You do not
Have the right
To instill fear in our hearts
Every day
That our brothers and sisters might not make it out alive.
You do not
Have the right
To hurt and kill us at every turn.
You do not
Have the right
To kidnap our soldiers,
And hold them for years like animals,
While you sit comfortably in our jails like kings.
You do not
Have the right
To take our provisions,
Our food and medicine, given freely,
And use it to make yourselves stronger
To kill us some more.
You do not
Have the right
To call yourselves victims,
While you victimize us every day.
You do not
Have the right
To equality,
When you behave like animals.
You do not
Have the right
To protest at the injustice being done to you,
When you have no idea
Of what is just and right.
You do not
Have the right
To a land that you simply wish
To destroy.
If these are the rights
Of which you speak,
Then no,
You do not
Have any rights
At all.
To live
And breath
And exist,
As it is God's will.
You do not
Have the right
To instill fear in our hearts
Every day
That our brothers and sisters might not make it out alive.
You do not
Have the right
To hurt and kill us at every turn.
You do not
Have the right
To kidnap our soldiers,
And hold them for years like animals,
While you sit comfortably in our jails like kings.
You do not
Have the right
To take our provisions,
Our food and medicine, given freely,
And use it to make yourselves stronger
To kill us some more.
You do not
Have the right
To call yourselves victims,
While you victimize us every day.
You do not
Have the right
To equality,
When you behave like animals.
You do not
Have the right
To protest at the injustice being done to you,
When you have no idea
Of what is just and right.
You do not
Have the right
To a land that you simply wish
To destroy.
If these are the rights
Of which you speak,
Then no,
You do not
Have any rights
At all.
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