Does this parting require a handshake,
or a hug?
Or a pat on the back,
or a polite smile
or none of the above.
I think of appropriate music to play at a time like this.
The Beatles have said it all
and they don't disappoint.
"You say goodbye and I say hello
I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello."
I've said many goodbyes over the years,
hated most of them
tolerated some of them
rejoiced at a few
and beared the rest.
This is no different.
One day you're here
the next you will not be here
but somewhere else
and now who can I joke with every day?
The difference is
you are leaving and I am not.
Moving on, as they say
to greener pastures
and good luck to you sir.
But what of me?
All of them gone, gone, gone
and only I remain.
The last of the lot.
Well.
I'd love to move on as well.
Bigger, better,
the NEXT in my life.
Instead of stuck
in limbo.
But should I jump
before I have a place to land?
Hope you enjoyed your pink girly cake,
yes it was quite good.
Bittersweet, as they say.
For tomorrow you won't be there,
and though we've had our differences
I was kinda starting to like you
when you upped and left.
Oh well.
The thought of you leaving
makes me sad,
but the thought of me staying
makes me wonder
what's next for me?
You say goodbye and I say hello
I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
My first time
How was it, your first time?
When you slipped into something a little more snug,
a little more comfortable.
Did you pose in front of the mirror, turning this way and that,
thinking, would he like me in this?
Did it feel weird, that first time?
Like a betrayal,
like you were in someone else's skin,
Or did it feel natural,
as if your whole life led up to this moment.
Did your heart beat fast
when you stepped outside,
did you wonder if the whole world was staring at you?
Did you feel the empty space between your legs,
and try to cover up?
With your converse sneakers
and ripped skinny jeans
you kept walking
and never looked back.
Tell me that I'm wrong.
"You didn't tell me that you went tznius," she said to her friend.
I wonder if she realizes how fat her thighs look in those leggings.
And not just her, but all legging clad women.
Her friend said, "yes I did! They wouldn't accept me otherwise.
So I put on a skirt."
So it's all about acceptance, then.
Otherwise you'd be showing off your be-
hind like every other All-American girl.
Was that your dream, when you were little?
To grow up and show it all off?
There was a store in LA
with half-naked models outside,
and so we went in,
even as we scoffed at how crude it is
to lure people in with naked men.
It was dark inside.
I could barely see in that dressing room,
but somehow I managed to take a picture of my reflection,
in form-fitting jeans
that looked great on me.
We giggled,
oh wow look at us wearing pants,
so scandalous,
what if we could actually go outside like this,
and hey, we look good.
But then it was back to our skirts
that just covered our knees,
and who would know
that for just a moment
we wanted to be somebody else.
I think how fitting it is that today
as I walk behind these girls
I'm wearing my skirt that actually covers my knees,
instead of just brushing them,
as 'bad' as that sounds.
I don't look down on them.
I feel bad for them.
That they had to look outside
instead of inward
to find what they were looking for.
I can still see the inside of that dressing room
and the way those jeans looked on me.
Even stepping outside for a second felt weird,
like the whole world would know
my dirty little secret.
Fortunate am I
that something inside me
kept me straight all these years.
Call it my 'pintele yid'
or just dumb luck.
But hey,
Skirts look great on me.
And besides,
I can walk much faster
than waddling in stiff skinny jeans.
When you slipped into something a little more snug,
a little more comfortable.
Did you pose in front of the mirror, turning this way and that,
thinking, would he like me in this?
Did it feel weird, that first time?
Like a betrayal,
like you were in someone else's skin,
Or did it feel natural,
as if your whole life led up to this moment.
Did your heart beat fast
when you stepped outside,
did you wonder if the whole world was staring at you?
Did you feel the empty space between your legs,
and try to cover up?
With your converse sneakers
and ripped skinny jeans
you kept walking
and never looked back.
Tell me that I'm wrong.
"You didn't tell me that you went tznius," she said to her friend.
I wonder if she realizes how fat her thighs look in those leggings.
And not just her, but all legging clad women.
Her friend said, "yes I did! They wouldn't accept me otherwise.
So I put on a skirt."
So it's all about acceptance, then.
Otherwise you'd be showing off your be-
hind like every other All-American girl.
Was that your dream, when you were little?
To grow up and show it all off?
There was a store in LA
with half-naked models outside,
and so we went in,
even as we scoffed at how crude it is
to lure people in with naked men.
It was dark inside.
I could barely see in that dressing room,
but somehow I managed to take a picture of my reflection,
in form-fitting jeans
that looked great on me.
We giggled,
oh wow look at us wearing pants,
so scandalous,
what if we could actually go outside like this,
and hey, we look good.
But then it was back to our skirts
that just covered our knees,
and who would know
that for just a moment
we wanted to be somebody else.
I think how fitting it is that today
as I walk behind these girls
I'm wearing my skirt that actually covers my knees,
instead of just brushing them,
as 'bad' as that sounds.
I don't look down on them.
I feel bad for them.
That they had to look outside
instead of inward
to find what they were looking for.
I can still see the inside of that dressing room
and the way those jeans looked on me.
Even stepping outside for a second felt weird,
like the whole world would know
my dirty little secret.
Fortunate am I
that something inside me
kept me straight all these years.
Call it my 'pintele yid'
or just dumb luck.
But hey,
Skirts look great on me.
And besides,
I can walk much faster
than waddling in stiff skinny jeans.
Monday, April 14, 2014
Perfection
There will be moments in your life that you will regret forever. Times when you say the wrong thing and wish that you could take your words back.
They handed me my graduation gift, beaming that they got me what I wanted. They asked me if I liked it. Stupidly, I said that it wasn't the exact model I wanted. So they took it back and said they would try to get the one I wanted. I should have just said thank you. I am embarrassed every time I think back on that moment.
Midnight, the night before Pesach. I sit back and listen to the sounds of home. Each person yelling louder than the next, trying to get each other to do various jobs that need getting done. I try to yell above them to tell them to STOP SCREAMING but I give up and just watch.
My father is putting up curtains for my makeshift room in the living room. We are all grown up and you'd think everyone would have moved out by now, but somehow the house is tiny and everyone is home and as usual, I have no room. No one wants to share with me. I'm used to having my own room anyway.
This curtain hanging business is serious. My father bought string, and screwed nails into the wall to hang a curtain across. He spent time on it. I got bored and wandered upstairs to find entertainment. He called me downstairs to take a look when it was done.
He asked me if I liked it. I smiled and said it was perfect, and thanked him for doing it for me. I hi-fived him. My own room with a curtain in the living room.
Sometimes we'll regret what we say and sometimes we'll say the right thing at the right time.
And sometimes we'll scream at each other just for the heck of it.
Erev Pesach. The beauty of being home with family.
A kosher and freilechin pesach to everyone.
They handed me my graduation gift, beaming that they got me what I wanted. They asked me if I liked it. Stupidly, I said that it wasn't the exact model I wanted. So they took it back and said they would try to get the one I wanted. I should have just said thank you. I am embarrassed every time I think back on that moment.
Midnight, the night before Pesach. I sit back and listen to the sounds of home. Each person yelling louder than the next, trying to get each other to do various jobs that need getting done. I try to yell above them to tell them to STOP SCREAMING but I give up and just watch.
My father is putting up curtains for my makeshift room in the living room. We are all grown up and you'd think everyone would have moved out by now, but somehow the house is tiny and everyone is home and as usual, I have no room. No one wants to share with me. I'm used to having my own room anyway.
This curtain hanging business is serious. My father bought string, and screwed nails into the wall to hang a curtain across. He spent time on it. I got bored and wandered upstairs to find entertainment. He called me downstairs to take a look when it was done.
He asked me if I liked it. I smiled and said it was perfect, and thanked him for doing it for me. I hi-fived him. My own room with a curtain in the living room.
Sometimes we'll regret what we say and sometimes we'll say the right thing at the right time.
And sometimes we'll scream at each other just for the heck of it.
Erev Pesach. The beauty of being home with family.
A kosher and freilechin pesach to everyone.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
From the safety of my umbrella
The rain pitter patters on top of me, streaking down from heaven in a continuous flow. I forget that it is raining, in the shelter of my umbrella. People duck for cover under awnings and in banks, but I keep going. It can't touch me.
I like to stay informed so I read, I traverse the news sites, stay 'in the know' and current, so if anyone says 'hey what's up with the missing flight MH370? Did they find it yet?' I can tell them that the search team is still looking, and they think they found the black box.
Or what about baby Prince George in Australia? Fort Hood shooter, Kardashian wedding, Pistorius trial, Obama Selfie ban, just a few among the current headlines. And what does it matter? What if you could stay under a rock and not know anything? Who would care? But hey, that would make for a boring conversation. So I make fun of the fact that my coworker gets her daily news on www.dailymail.co.uk while I read the drudge, and ya that makes me cool. Or whatever.
I'm not very much into selfies, or at least not posting them to Facebook. Narcissist, anyone? That's what we encourage. Hey, let's make a whole gallery of selfies and call it art! Or what about a song called '#selfie'? Really? Today music has died.
Do you care how the world sees you? Is it possible you are really a psychopath masquerading as normal? Or maybe it is the normal who are crazy.
I wonder what you see when you look at me. Your eyes follow my umbrella as I walk away, and what is going on inside your head? Do you simply wish that you too had an umbrella as big as mine? Or is it the person underneath it that you are interested in?
Ever seen this quote:
Mine would go more like: "There's a writer inside of me, but I'm too scared to let her out". I wouldn't call myself a 'writer' because I hate the connotations that come along with that. I'm not weird or artsy or insane. Gross generalizations, maybe. But what is it that sets you free and allows you to speak your mind without fear of what people will say?
I was once young and didn't care. Or maybe I did care. I don't remember. I'm old now. Older, and slightly more wiser, and a lot more reserved. Every time I think of sitting down to write, something better comes along. Something like TV shows. But my TV shows are on Spring break, so it's just you and me....
You know those people that say, "there's so much that I want to tell you but I can't"? Well, ya. Imagine all the things I could tell you if I didn't have so many barriers. But we'll try anyway.
.....Well it was worth a shot.
I like to stay informed so I read, I traverse the news sites, stay 'in the know' and current, so if anyone says 'hey what's up with the missing flight MH370? Did they find it yet?' I can tell them that the search team is still looking, and they think they found the black box.
Or what about baby Prince George in Australia? Fort Hood shooter, Kardashian wedding, Pistorius trial, Obama Selfie ban, just a few among the current headlines. And what does it matter? What if you could stay under a rock and not know anything? Who would care? But hey, that would make for a boring conversation. So I make fun of the fact that my coworker gets her daily news on www.dailymail.co.uk while I read the drudge, and ya that makes me cool. Or whatever.
I'm not very much into selfies, or at least not posting them to Facebook. Narcissist, anyone? That's what we encourage. Hey, let's make a whole gallery of selfies and call it art! Or what about a song called '#selfie'? Really? Today music has died.
Do you care how the world sees you? Is it possible you are really a psychopath masquerading as normal? Or maybe it is the normal who are crazy.
I wonder what you see when you look at me. Your eyes follow my umbrella as I walk away, and what is going on inside your head? Do you simply wish that you too had an umbrella as big as mine? Or is it the person underneath it that you are interested in?
Ever seen this quote:
I was once young and didn't care. Or maybe I did care. I don't remember. I'm old now. Older, and slightly more wiser, and a lot more reserved. Every time I think of sitting down to write, something better comes along. Something like TV shows. But my TV shows are on Spring break, so it's just you and me....
You know those people that say, "there's so much that I want to tell you but I can't"? Well, ya. Imagine all the things I could tell you if I didn't have so many barriers. But we'll try anyway.
.....Well it was worth a shot.
Friday, April 4, 2014
Being a grown up
She asks me how I manage school and work together. she's thinking of going to school. When do you do homework, she asks. I tell her, I go to work and go to school and come home, eat dinner watch tv and go to sleep. When do you have time for a social life, she wants to know. I don't, I tell her. I haven't seen my friends in awhile. And what does that say about me?
2:30 am. Just finished a paper for school. It was due by midnight. I gave myself an extension. My contacts are glued to my eyes. I'm tired. Today was a good day. Someone commented on my change of hairstyle. It was simply up in a ponytail instead of down as usual. I'm surprised guys notice that kind of thing. I was wearing my bright blue skirt today, the one I like. It looks good on me. When I wear that skirt, I walk with confidence, like hey world, it's me you've been looking for.
I didn't like class tonight. My teacher used the time to say a lot of inappropriate things and curse words. He blamed it on the subject. He laughed and said "I love how I can say @$$ cuz I'm an adult. We're all adults." That was definitely not the worst thing he said tonight. I cringed. I thought about leaving the room. Does that make me a prude, I wondered. Does it matter? What's wrong with being a prude, compared to these secular people with potty mouths who definitely need to was their mouths out with soap? Is that what being a grown up is all about? That now you get to say bad words and talk about explicit topics? Wahoo. You've made it.
We in the office were reminiscing about seminary/yeshiva, the 'good old days' in Israel. Who got into what, and I am referring to the 'naughty' behavior. Well, I was a prude. I didn't do anything bad in Israel. Not for lack of trying. But it didn't seem worth it, to screw up a year like that. One guy in my office said, oh so you were chassidish. Again with the labels. We leave high school but the labels follow us wherever we go. I want to be labeled as None. As in, what does it matter? I am not just a label. I am many different things.
The world is changing every day, and it's a beautiful thing. Some are sad changes, like the Fort Hood shooting. I say, if you want to kill yourself, go for it. Why take many other people down with you. Missing flight MH 370- still not found, and in my opinion probably never will be. Miley Cyrus is crying about her dead dog. James Franco is accused of flirting with an underage 17 year old. Chris Brown was arrested. Oh yes, all this is quality news stories. What I mean to say is, April Fool's day came and went, I read an article about a new reality TV show that would throw people into the wild with only the clothes on their backs, and they would have to learn to survive, all televised of course, for the viewers at home. As believable as it sounds knowing the junk reality shows these days, I did acknowledge the date on the calender, and since then have not been able to read a news story without trying to figure out if it was a prank or not.
Such is the world we live in.
In other news, I made cupcakes for a coworkers birthday. I hate surprise parties. After setting up the cupcakes and trying to find the best possible time to yell surprise, he walked in and said 'ooh cupcakes! Who's that for?". We all responded a weak, surprise... and everyone enjoyed the cupcakes. Would there be a way for me to send a cupcake in cyberspace, I would. Until then, feast your eyes on the pictures, and imagine the sweet vanilla cream cheese frosting, the soft and fluffy vanilla cupcake with a crispy top, and wish that you were eating one right about now.
And with that I say, goodnight.
2:30 am. Just finished a paper for school. It was due by midnight. I gave myself an extension. My contacts are glued to my eyes. I'm tired. Today was a good day. Someone commented on my change of hairstyle. It was simply up in a ponytail instead of down as usual. I'm surprised guys notice that kind of thing. I was wearing my bright blue skirt today, the one I like. It looks good on me. When I wear that skirt, I walk with confidence, like hey world, it's me you've been looking for.
I didn't like class tonight. My teacher used the time to say a lot of inappropriate things and curse words. He blamed it on the subject. He laughed and said "I love how I can say @$$ cuz I'm an adult. We're all adults." That was definitely not the worst thing he said tonight. I cringed. I thought about leaving the room. Does that make me a prude, I wondered. Does it matter? What's wrong with being a prude, compared to these secular people with potty mouths who definitely need to was their mouths out with soap? Is that what being a grown up is all about? That now you get to say bad words and talk about explicit topics? Wahoo. You've made it.
We in the office were reminiscing about seminary/yeshiva, the 'good old days' in Israel. Who got into what, and I am referring to the 'naughty' behavior. Well, I was a prude. I didn't do anything bad in Israel. Not for lack of trying. But it didn't seem worth it, to screw up a year like that. One guy in my office said, oh so you were chassidish. Again with the labels. We leave high school but the labels follow us wherever we go. I want to be labeled as None. As in, what does it matter? I am not just a label. I am many different things.
The world is changing every day, and it's a beautiful thing. Some are sad changes, like the Fort Hood shooting. I say, if you want to kill yourself, go for it. Why take many other people down with you. Missing flight MH 370- still not found, and in my opinion probably never will be. Miley Cyrus is crying about her dead dog. James Franco is accused of flirting with an underage 17 year old. Chris Brown was arrested. Oh yes, all this is quality news stories. What I mean to say is, April Fool's day came and went, I read an article about a new reality TV show that would throw people into the wild with only the clothes on their backs, and they would have to learn to survive, all televised of course, for the viewers at home. As believable as it sounds knowing the junk reality shows these days, I did acknowledge the date on the calender, and since then have not been able to read a news story without trying to figure out if it was a prank or not.
Such is the world we live in.
In other news, I made cupcakes for a coworkers birthday. I hate surprise parties. After setting up the cupcakes and trying to find the best possible time to yell surprise, he walked in and said 'ooh cupcakes! Who's that for?". We all responded a weak, surprise... and everyone enjoyed the cupcakes. Would there be a way for me to send a cupcake in cyberspace, I would. Until then, feast your eyes on the pictures, and imagine the sweet vanilla cream cheese frosting, the soft and fluffy vanilla cupcake with a crispy top, and wish that you were eating one right about now.
And with that I say, goodnight.
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