Coming out of the closet

I wish it were still so simple, like when I was seven, and it was a non isssue. Back then, it wasn't something you thought about. It never became a group discussion, I didn't even know what the word 'opinion' meant until I was maybe 9.

We used to sing this song. It was in yidish, and it went something like 'Moshiach is already here, just 'efen oyf di egelach' open up your eyes. And then something about polishing your buttons. It always brought to mind an image of a row of soldiers standing pin straight, not moving an inch, with gleaming buttons in maybe gold or silver. It was a feeling, a good feeling. If we did just one more good deed, Moshoach would be here. We were taught a love for Chabad, a love for the Rebbe, a love for yidishkeit.

Then I grew up. Then I became confused. Then they tried to brainwash me, whoever 'they' may be.

I used to sing yechi. But then someone explained to me what it meant, and then I stopped singing it. (I'm not discussing that.)

I never really understood the arguments between the group that called themselves 'meshichist', and the opposite one, called the 'anti-meshichist.' For all intents and purposes, my family is 'neutral', and that's how I wished to remain.

I didn't even realize how bad it was until I visited another high school. I was in the kitchen in the dorm, and this girl says to me, as she's making her scrambled eggs, 'so are you like, a mish, or an anti?' all casual like that. I gave her a strange look and answered, 'I'm neutral.' Which seemed to please her.

I'm confused. Why do people talk about it, as if it's an article of clothing, or as if we are discussing the weather outside? 'Oh ya, it's a sunny day out. And uhu, I heard it's gonna snow.' The same way they say, 'I think the Rebbe is Moshiach, so what do you think? And does your family say yechi?'

What does it really mean?

I don't know. I honestly have no idea. I think this very issue in chabad is what may push people away, make a lot of people confused, and form half or more of all the disputes among us. And why? Because you have different beliefs then your neighbors? Is that a reason not to talk to them, or better yet, not allow your daughter to marry their son?

Last night I was in Manhattan, hanging out with my friends. One of them said 'look!', and there they were. The 'Yellow Flaggers'. You may have heard of them. Or maybe not. They are they chabadnikim, mostly Israelis, who wear yellow flag pins on their lapels, and try to get everyone else to do the same; who wave the yellow flag for all they are worth, in 770, by simchat bais hashueva, in public places, such as Manhattan, on mivtzoyim. You get my drift.

On the one hand, I thought, there are those crazy Israelis. That thought was closely followed by 'they are mine. Those are my people, my brothers, my bocherim!' So we went over to watch them dance.

There was a guy standing next to me, and he said, 'they suck. These guys come here every week, and all they want is money.' But he added, 'and they are the best street performers ever.' Then he gave them money. That made me feel better, but what he said still upset me. Little did he know, I am one of 'them'. He just insulted me, how rude!

Don't ak me what I believe, because sometimes I'm not sure.

I am first and foremost a Jew. I love G-d. Despite what you may think, that is not interdependant on whether or not I follow all his rules.

Next: I am Chabad. I am proud of it. I love the Rebbe. I believe Gimmel Tamuz happened. I hurts me to think about it, and to talk about it. It is confusing, like how can a Rebbe, my Rebbe, leave us? Okay, I know he didn't leave, he is still here, but then, why can't I see him? That is the childish way in which I think. And I refuse to accept it.

I hesitate to say this, because I may very well be stoned for it (I'm only half joking.) I believe the Rebbe is Moshiach. I don't have to explain it. A belief is intrinsic.

You know how you have the right to insult your own family as much as you want, but the second someone else starts saying the very insults you said, you get mad and want to punch them? (Or is that just me?) That is how I feel. I will not say that I know everything for certain. I know I am confused and unsure about some stuff. I know I disagree with some stuff, and with the way that some Lubavitchers go about it.

But watch it buster, because the second you try to insult them, you are insulting ME, and that is a very fine line to cross.

Ok wow. Did I ever say that I hate politics? I hate arguments. Maybe I should just keep my head in the sand, instead of trying to discuss it. Cuz honestly, I don't care to hear what some people have to say. But if you really want to, then go for it.

Kids

There's something about little kids that makes you smile. That makes you forgiving of every sin. That makes your heart melt.

Think about it. You are coming home from a tiring day at work, and you see a little girl walking with her mother. She has an angelic pretty face, and two pigtails in her gorgeous hair. You can't help but smile, and for those few minutes, you feel at peace.

Maybe it's because they remind you of a time of innocence, of naivete, of no worries or stress. Maybe it is because they bring you back to a time when you were happy, and just enjoyed life.

But whatever it is, kids can turn even the biggest sour grouch into a besotted fool with a silly grin on their face.

They make you laugh at the silly antics they get up to. We oooh and aaah over how cute they are. We want to cuddle with them, hold them, and 'eat them up.'

At other times, kids can make you wish you were never born. You want to slap them (G-d forbid!) and tell them to 'grow up' and act their age. Except that's exactly what they are doing.

We do stupid stuff, and tell them 'don't do what I did' and then get mad when they do. We don't understand why they don't just listen to us, why they have to cry so much, and why they can't just behave.

And this is all when they are little. Then they grow up and turn into angsty teenagers, and make you wish to G-d you never had kids.

Kids. You can't live with them, you can't live without them. I can only imagine what my parents are going through.

Happy thanksgiving, tes kislev, you know

You know how they say that the things that are hardest for you to do are usually the right decisions to make?

Well, they forgot to mention one small part: it hurts.

Why do I find myself alone in the car at 1 am, cruising the now silent streets? As the last party-goers are leaving, drunk, from their thanksgiving dinners, and the last of the homeless are finding places to sleep for the night, I'm roaming the city. Because I did something that was hard for me to do.

You know what? It felt good. Yes. But the after part is always hard, and leaves me thinking, now what?

Today I had a thanksgiving dinner with my friends. Ya ya, I know it's not our holiday, as little brother pointed out. 'Why are you celebrating a goyish holiday?' So I told him, we are not really celebrating, we are just eating turkey. What's wrong with that?

Okay, we cheated. The turkey was expensive, so instead we had sliced turkey breast, the deli kind. We had sweet potatoes, and regular potatoes, and salad and green beans and cranberry sauce, and compote, and pumpkin pie, and I brought the chips. Ya, kind of a stupid thing to bring, but my friend told me to, and I can take orders if I have to.

It was fun. So much fun. Just chilling with friends, drinking Smirnoff ice, which tastes exactly like soda, except if you have a few of them you get a happy light feeling. Which I never get from diet coke, no.

Which got me thinking: today was Tes kislev. Okay, DON'T ask me what special thing happened today, cuz I'd have to get up and check the calendar. (Okay just checked it. It's the Mitiler Rebbe's birthday and yartzeit, and tomorrow is his celebration of release from prison. I thought it had something to do with him. Not bad)

So why am I having a thanksgiving meal when I should be having a farbrengin? Even though our get together could have passed as a farbrengin, and we even said a lechaim. But am I that out of touch with my Jewish side that I forget the days in chabad?

I had an interview today for a job in Manhattan, great location. But the job itself is even greater. It is working for a Rabbi, being his assistant. In a Chabad house, called Chabad loft. It is an awesome place, really big and airy, with couches, and paintings on the walls. And a big picture of the Rebbe. I want the job, I think I would be good for it, and it will be good for me.

As I told my mother, maybe Chabad will mikarev me. (That was a joke.)

And yes, I made a decision, a good decision, that I hope with all my heart that I will stick to, and not break my resolve like I usually do. And I hope that G-d sees my efforts, and helps me out a bit, cuz not to place the blame or anything, but He put the stumbling blocks in front of me in the first place.

Oh ya, in 10 years from now, I will look back on this and laugh. And I will be grateful that I went through everything I did, because it will have made me a stronger person.

But right now, I'm not laughing, and I need to take my contacts out cuz my eyes are dry.

As Charley always says, 'Merry Shabbos!!'

The death penalty

This is a speech I gave for class. I think it was quite good. So did some other people. Read it, enjoy, feel free to comment.

Death penalty- con

I think the death penalty should be abolished. Whether it's a firing squad, electric chair, gas chamber, lethal injection, or hanging, it's barbaric to allow state-sanctioned murder before a crowd of people. We condemn people like Saddam Hussein when they murder their own people while we continue to do the same. The 8th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution prevents the use of "cruel and unusual punishment". Many would interpret the death penalty as violating this restriction.

What exactly do we mean when we say “death penalty“? Capital punishment, also dubbed the "death penalty," is the pre-meditated and planned taking of a human life by a government in response to a crime committed by that legally convicted person. In simple English, we are killing a killer.

Hence, there are many moral complexities of the death penalty.

Catholic Cardinal McCarrick, Archbishop of Washington, writes "...the death penalty diminishes all of us, increases disrespect for human life, and offers the tragic illusion that we can teach that killing is wrong by killing."

How can we use death as a lesson to others, to teach criminals not to kill? We teach young children that killing is bad. How then, can we condone the act of murder, even if we use it on someone who has committed murder himself?

As Catholic Sister Camille D’arienzo said, ‘all life, not only innocent life, is sacred.’ In addition, some people believe that to judge a man and put him to death is an attempt to play God. And since when is it our place to act as God? God grants us a certain amount of free choice, free will, and the power of judgment. We need to use it wisely and carefully. I don’t think it is man’s place to decide things such as life or death. That should be left entirely up to God.

In the Mishnah it states, “A Sanhedrin that puts a man to death once in seventy years is called destructive” (Mishnah, Makkoth 1:10).

In Jewish law it is permissible to use death as a form of punishment. But it was a very rare occurrence that they actually implemented it. And a beth din that did use the death penalty was considered to be corrupt.

Now we must ask: what purpose does the death penalty serve?

Is the purpose to remove from society someone who is incapable of rehabilitation? Is the purpose of the death penalty to deter others from committing murder? Is the purpose of the death penalty to punish the criminal? Is the purpose of the death penalty to take retribution on behalf of the victim?

These are all valid questions. The purpose may very well be the removal from society of someone who is incapable of changing his behavior. We cannot let a criminal loose, and let him kill again, can we? But what if this criminal repents, and he is no longer a threat? Where then, is our need to eliminate him?

The case of Stanley "Tookie" Williams illustrates this.

Mr. Williams, an author and Nobel Peace and Literature Prizes nominee who was put to death on December 13, 2005 by lethal injection by the state of California, brought capital punishment back into prominent public debate.

Mr. Williams was convicted of four murders committed in 1979, and sentenced to death.
Williams was the leader of a gang called the Crips. They were responsible for hundreds of murders. Circumstantial evidence against Williams left little doubt that he committed the four murders.

About five years after incarceration, Mr. Williams underwent a religious conversion and, as a result, authored many books and programs to promote peace and to fight gangs and gang violence. He was nominated five times for the Nobel Peace Prize and four times for the Nobel Literature Prize.

Mr. Williams' was a self-admitted life of crime and violence, followed by genuine redemption and a life of uniquely and unusually good works.
There also existed no doubt that Mr. Williams posed no further threat to society, and would contribute considerable good.

Therefore, carrying out the death penalty as his punishment seems detriment to our purpose. If the death penalty is used as a preventative method, to ensure that the defendant doesn’t commit anymore crime, we must bring the defense in Mr. William’s case, that he repented. He turned his life around in prison, and became a good person. Is that not what we want? And yet, he was needlessly killed.

Is the purpose to deter others from committing murder? To that we must answer: capital punishment causes contrary results. There is proof that in the days following an execution of a criminal on death row, there has been a raise in violent acts, not a drop. Because of the publicity of the death, criminals who are inclined to kill find more opportunity to do so. A public execution only serves to rile up society, and causes more deaths, not less. It does not, then, deter others from committing murder.

Some see death as the ultimate form of punishment. But this is not true. To a criminal who is facing a sentence of life in prison, death looks mightily good to him. Some inmates in prison try to kill themselves, as a form of escape from the hellish life they are living. Therefore, to make the criminal suffer to the utmost, we keep him alive, and make him live out the rest of his days locked in a cell. Physical bondage is not life at all. Death is an escape, whereas, a life sentence is punishment.

And what of our last argument, avenging the death of the victim? In Deuteronomy 32:43 it says, "Rejoice, O nations, with His people; For He will avenge the blood of His servants, And will render vengeance on His adversaries, And will atone for His land and His people." God will be the avenger. It is not up to man to avenge blood.

And to those who argue for the death penalty, seeing it as a form of closure to the families of the victim who was murdered, we answer him, by killing the killer, it does not bring the victim back, and all we are doing is eliminating another human being from this earth, whether or not he was a bad person.

There are lesser arguments that can be brought to argue for or against the death penalty, such as, the financial cost. One might think that an execution is costly. And although in the face of death, a discussion of money seems petty and irrelevant, here we have proof that it is cheaper to house a prisoner in jail for life, rather than kill him. One death sentence costs 2-5 times more than keeping that same criminal in prison for the rest of his life. Some prisoners sit on death row for 15-20 years, plus the cost of lawyers, and appeals, and legal procedures. Death is more costly.

And lastly, what about error? Is it not possible that we might come to kill an innocent person? Sure, we can never completely eliminate all uncertainty, but nowadays, it's about as close as you can get. DNA testing is over 99 percent effective. When a jury and a judge rule to put someone to death, they are almost 100% certain that he deserves to die for the crimes he committed. But while that is true, it should not be up to a jury of 12, and a human judge of flesh and blood, to decide the fate of a human life.

In the united states, this is a widely discussed topic. There are many people who are for the death penalty, and an equally great amount rallying against it, and to abolish it.

After all is said and done, I don’t think that the United States of America should use death as a form of punishment. We are a country that stands in front of the world, and everyone watches us to see what we will do. We should not send the message that to kill a killer is okay.

No more violence. No more death. Let’s end it now.

What do you think

If a tree falls in a forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a noise?

Is a success truly a success if no one was around to see it? When a child learns how to walk, or do a new task for the first time, they run to show their parents. 'Look at me! Look what I can do!' right before they fall.

It's so important to a human to receive validation for their actions, or state of being. Yes, your smart. Yes, your pretty. If your confidence is shot to hell, it is good to hear these things. Some people like to hear them regardless, because they have a big ego.

I gave a speech today, for class. But I came early, and said it for the 1st class that the teacher gives, not  my usual class with the familiar girls. Because my teacher thought we would be short on time. So no one in my class got to hear my speech, besides for the teacher.

I felt cheated, in a way. I wanted them to applaud me, tell me what a good job I did. The girls in the other class did that, but I don't even know them, so it didn't mean much.

We were finished all the speeches, and had 10 minutes to spare, so I asked the teacher if I could say mine again, so my classmates could hear it. Of course the answer was no.

My speech was great. Perhaps I'll put it up as a post. But it would have been nice to hear other people say good things about it.

So what is it about humans that makes them need compliments? Really, why?

Gift horses

I wonder where the expression "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth" comes from. I know what it means. Don't question a good thing, appreciate it, etc. But who started it, and really, why not?? If I got a gift, I see nothing wrong with looking it in the mouth. Okay if it had a mouth. And not every gift, only the ones I am skeptical about.

When G-d gives me 'gifts', sometimes I find myself saying, okay thanks, but what's the catch? If I accept this from you, what bad thing will happen to me instead?

There's a new movie that just came out. It's called, The box. It is about a young couple who have the chance of making a million dollars, and all they have to do is open the box. Simple. But the downside is (if you can call it that) that someone they don't know, somewhere in the world, will die.

Ya, I think I would look the horse in the mouth then, and I don't think I would accept it. But that is a question of morals, a discussion I'll leave for another time.

I was talking to a friend. I told her something that happened. She was skeptical about it, while I was happy, and accepting. It is a question of perspectives, and how you look at it. I saw it as a good thing, and she saw 'stay away. Beware. Caution.'

Which got me thinking. Is it genuinely a good thing, like I originally thought? Or am I so naive, that I need an outsider to point out to me that it is not indeed as good as I thought it to be?

I want G-d to hand me life on a silver platter. I want a big wrapped box with a bow on top, and a roast with all the trimmings.

But that ain't never gonna happen. Even I'm not too stupid to think that.

So at the very least, I want to be able to accept it as a gift, and not be constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for the other foot to drop. Waiting for lightning to strike. Waiting for G-d to say, 'Haha, child, you thought I was gonna give you something good? Oh no, that was an illusion. I take it back."

So I say, look the gift horse in the mouth. If you like what you see, keep it. And if you don't, well what the heck, you are stuck with it, cuz I don't think G-d takes any refunds. And at the very least, you can use the horse as a rocking chair. Or something equally as usefull.

Lechaim! Here's to life, liberty, and the persuit of happiness. Friendship, clean horses mouths, and most importantly, clarity, to recognize a good thing when you see it.

*P.S. Just looked up gift horses. It has to do with the age of the teeth. Petty people, I should have known. A horse is a horse of course of course. Is it not?

The City

I turn on the music and just sit in the car. It is late at night and I can't find a space. I park by a hydrant, hoping I won't get a ticket. But there is a cop on my block, so I wait for him to leave. It is after midnight. I want to go inside, I want to go to sleep, I want to eat something. But I am stuck here in my car, waiting for the cop to leave.

I chill. Put my seat back, enjoy the music. Wonder who else is up at this hour. I text my friend, she texts me back, I'm sick of that so I call her. But she is busy. Bummer.

Chillin. That's what they say. It's nice. But I wish I had someone to chill with, instead of just me and the music.

My song comes on, the one I like. I have a few of those. I sing along, as I am wont to do when I'm the only one in the car. It's calming.

Escape. People think of it as a bad thing. But I think it's healthy. To get away from everything for a little bit, give yourself space, time to think, or better yet, not think. So I went to The City. And there is only one City, with a capital T and C.

There was a big sign that said, UNTHINK. Ya, it spoke to me, that's what I was trying to do.

I walk through Time Square. The billboards and flashing lights make everything feel alive. There's an awesome vibrating feeling in the air, like you are a part of something big, you are creating history. The best part is, I feel it every time I go to Manhattan.

I call my father to ask him which way is Central park. Ya I'm like a guy in that way. No sense of direction whatsoever, and I hardly ever ask for help. My motto is, figure it out yourself. And if you can't, then you're an idiot. Oh well.

I headed towards the park. It was getting dark, and by the time I got there I decided it was just creepy enough and late enough that I shouldn't go in by myself. So instead I went to the apple store right near there. It is an AWESOME store. You walk in and there is just tooons of laptops and ipods everywhere, for you to try out. I am like salivating, even though I just bought a laptop. (Sorry sweety, I still like you.)

I listen to the music, and dream of buying an itouch. Ya, the one I want for Christmas. Oh well. At least I can check it out here, and enjoy it for a bit.

Next stop, Gap. Then H&M. I bought a hat, cuz I decided I must buy something if I'm in The City.

It's getting late. I had a great time chillin, I love going to The City. But my UNTHINK time is over. It's time to go back, to life, to everything.

It's just a subway ride away. I can go to The City to escape and UNTHINK anytime I want. Great feeling.

I wanna sit on Santa's knee

I wanna sit on Santa's knee.
I wanna tug his white beard to see if it is real,
I wanna say, hey Santa, this year for Christmas I want an itouch. And a new phone. And a car would be cool. You think you can do that for me? And it's okay if it doesn't fit down the chiminey, just leave it in my driveway. Thanks.

But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.

I wanna believe in wishing wells.
I wanna throw a shiny penny in,
watch it sink to the bottom,
make a wish, and believe it'll come true.

But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.

I wanna believe in the tooth fairy.
I wanna put all my old teeth under my pillow,
go to sleep, and wake up in the morning with money instead.
I wanna imagine that she builds castles with all the teeth she collects.

But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.

I wanna dress up on Halloween, like a ghost or a goblin.
I wanna gut a pumpkin and put it in my front yard.
I wanna go trick-or-treating,
and throw eggs at passing cars.

But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.

I wanna sing Christmas carrolls, and sip eggnog by the fireplace.
I wanna put up a tree in my living room,
and adorn my front lawn with colorful lights.
I wanna sing, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.

I wanna make a turkey for Thanksgiving.
I wanna make stuffing, and cranberry sauce, and wild rice with craisins.
I wanna eat until I can't eat anymore, and there is no room left even for desert.
I wanna get drunk on wine, and fall asleep without doing the dishes.

But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.

But Santa will never be Jewish. And boy is he missing out.

I light the Menorah on Chanukah, and get presents and money. And I have my very own Santa. He has a long beard too. He doesn't say 'ho ho ho', but he has a wallet that says, I'm made of money. And he pays my cell phone bill. Dad's are better than Santa any day.

I put a shiny penny in the tzedaka box, instead of letting it sink meaninglessly to the bottom of a well, where someone will no doubt extract it someday, to buy a coffee with it. And hey, I get rewarded for that.

I save my teeth, instead of giving them to the tooth fairy. I think she has enough already, no need to burden her with more. And the concept of getting money for a natural occurance like teeth falling out makes me laugh at the absurdity. She can keep her money, I'll keep my teeth.

I dress up on Purim, give out and recieve baskets filled with all kinds of candy and junkfood, and the good part is, people come to give me, I don't need to go knocking on doors for it. And best of all, we have a commandment to get drunk. What more could a person ask for.

I sing Am yisroal chai, we want Moshiach now, and all kinds of crazy niggunim that make you want to dance. I chop up the tree and put it on top of my sukkah, which gives everything a nice smell. I've never had eggnog, and the thought of drinking raw egg makes me nauseous.

I eat and eat on pesach, and wine and dine, and never stop. I have Turkey whenever I am in the mood, and pumpkin pie too. And Thanksgiving is every day, not just once a year when you are feeling charitable towards G-d, and say grace.

They believe in superstitions like walking under a ladder, seeing a black cat cross the street, and breaking a mirror will bring bad luck. But we have our own bubbe maises, like sit at the corner of  table and you won't get married for seven years, putting out zatar will keep away evil spirits, saying poo poo poo will prevent bad things from happening, and so on.

They will never know the taste of kuggel and gefilte fish, or chollent on Shabbos afternoon. They won't have the sweet taste of learning Torah, or the feeling of satisfaction after breaking a fast. They will never understand all the 613 plus commandments we have, or all the crazy nutty customs we do. They just won't.

I wanna sit on Santa's knee. But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.

I love being Jewish, it's awesome.

Today's gonna be a good day

It's Rosh kislev. I didn't go to a farbrengin, I didn't do anything special, and I forgot that it is an auspicious day. Maybe I'll go to a farbrengin, maybe I'll even do something special for it, and hey, I just remembered that today is an auspicious day in Chabad! It's a good start!

Lubavitcher Rebbe Returns Home after Heart Attack (1977)
For the first time since suffering a major heart attack five weeks earlier, on the eve of Shemini Atzeret, the Rebbe left his office in 770 Eastern Parkway and returned to his home, signaling his recovery. Chassidim all over rejoiced at the good news.
From that day on, the Rebbe redoubled his efforts on behalf of the Jewish nation and all of humanity, and for the dissemination of Torah and chassidism. From then on, the first of Kislev is celebrated as a day of thanksgiving and rejoicing.


 I davened today. I'm happy about that :)

It's a good feeling.

Please read this

This post on CMBC's blog is amazing. She is a great writer, please read it at her blog, and leave a comment!

No more

There is a red headline among all the regular news. Red means danger, important, pay attention to me. So I do. But I don't like what I see. A sea of red, one after the other. And it doesn't stop, even when I shut my eyes. It doesn't go away.

The page is so normal. Engagements that day, mazal tov, chosson classes, morah music, basement for rent, shoe sale, lost cell phone, scroll down, and down. A typical day on the news site of shmais.com.

But this is wrong. Terrorists? Mumbai? Holtzberg, shluchim I never heard of? Why G-d, why?

November 27 2008. I came home the day before from Israel, for my sister's wedding. I had no idea what was going on. Didn't see any news on the way. Nothing. The first I heard about it was when I got home. And then it started.

All the news said say tehillim. But I don't remember saying tehillim. I don't remember much about that day. Just thinking, please let the news be good.

Hoping to hear good news, thats what it said. Cuz a Jew always lives with hope, even when the sword is on your neck. Keep praying, keep giving tzedaka, a Jew doesn't give up hope.

But then the news came. It was all over. They didn't make it. And it became more real. I'm sorry G-d, I'm sorry I didn't pray harder, I'm sorry I didn't give more charity, I'm sorry for so many things, but why couldn't you have saved them? Is that asking for too much??

So much good came out of it- I know.
It brought Jews closer together- I know.
It made us stronger- I know.
Gavi and Rivka would have been happy to see all the hachlatas that were made- I know.
Everything happens for a reason- I know.

And on and on and on.

But can you tell me why a little boy had to be left without parents? Can you tell me why 2 special people had to die while doing the Rebbe's outreach? Can you tell me why G-d, who is so great, couldn't have saved them, when the world prayed so hard for their safety?

You can't. No one can answer those questions besides for G-d Himself. And I ask, yet He remains silent.

And I continue to stare at the page, and all the articles written, preaching of faith, and courage, and the need to go on. But I don't want to go on. I want to go back. I want to do that day over again. I want to watch a video of the Holtzbergs on shlichus, and know that they are safe in their chabad house. I want to erase that day from history. I want to pray until I can't pray anymore, cry until my eyes are dry, and say tehillim like there is no tomorrow. I want another chance. I want to make it go away.

But G-d has spoken. There is no going back.

I don't have anymore questions. They are useless. I want Moshiach. I want them back. I want a day with no more tzaros. No more deaths, no more prison sentences, no more pain, no more suffering. No more tears, no more broken hearts, no more no more no more!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I want Moshiach, G-d. Is that too much to ask?

In the middle of the night

In the middle of the night is the best time to think. If I lived my whole life early in the AM, I might be farther along then I am now.

5 am, can't sleep. I go upstairs to get a drink, and then the magazines catch my eye. The house is so quiet and peaceful, it's never like that in the day. So I stay, curled up on the couch, ready for a good read.

Some things pull at my heart. Like the article about the lady who lost her baby, how it died because of faulty formula. Or the one about the girl who struggled with shidduchim.

 But that's not all. There are some good articles too. Like the lady who lost weight, and got her life back in order. And the one about the amazing couple on shlichus, who are helping bring Jewish teenagers back to yidishkeit.

Sunrise, or sunset? Is the cup half empty, or is it half full? Good or bad? How can you tell? I don't know.

I sympathize on some of the stories, I cry over others. And then there are the ones that I can relate to, that make me think, that story sounds like mine. She is going through exactly what I am feeling right now, and look, she got through it okay. It gives me strength to go on, to finish my story.

It is good to share your story, so that someday someone who needs to hear it will hear it, and it will change their life. Maybe in years from now I'll share mine, and it will help someone too.

My eyes are closing, it's after 6, and my bed is calling. I say goodnight to the silent house, and as I curl up under my blanket, everything seems so clear. Thinking and planning, making lists, and setting goals. Everything is clear in the middle of the night.

I can't wait until morning, when I can get those plans moving.

Not today

Sometimes, I am ready for whatever God throws at me. I am strong, I have faith, I believe that whatever happens was part of His plan, and that everything is for the best. Sometimes, I see a tragedy, and interpret it as something else. Even though it hurts in my heart, my mind tells me that God knows what He's doing. Sometimes, even when bad things happen, I don't question God. I deal with it. I handle it.

But sometimes I wake up and say, please God, don't let anything bad happen today, because I can't handle it. Today God, please cut me some slack. Let it be a good day, God, because right now I can't deal with anymore pain or suffering.

Please not today.

Fading away

Remember the time we turned on blasting music in our room, and we danced? Yes, even I danced. And we got it on video. And the neighbor came upstairs, and boy did he scream!

Remember those nights we would sit and talk way after midnight? And I would read something I wrote for my blog, and you would tell me in an awed voice, 'someday you are gonna be a famous author, and I'll be able to say, we used to be roommates!'

Remember when I had a stalker, and you helped me? I couldn't deal with it, and you made sure it all turned out okay.

Remember when you were homesick, and I talked you through it?

Remember when we went to the park, and lit candles, and burned stuff? And then we prank called people?

Remember when we sat on our bench and talked for hours? And when we went walking, and tried to go every night? 

Remember when we used to laugh together, like we shared an inside joke?

Do you remember? Do you remember everything like I do?

Then tell me why you see me online and you say 'hi how are you' I smile and say, 'good thank g-d'. And it's the same every day. And you ask me what I'm doing in life, and I tell you what I'm up to. And we exchange news. And that's it. And again the next day. And I think, not much can change in a day, can it?

Tell me why I think of our friendship wistfully, like it happened in the past. And why I forgot your birthday. Tell me why I wish things can go back to how they once were, but I can't make it work in the present. Tell me why I don't have your number, and if I did, I wouldn't call you.

Tell me, please. Tell me why people move on, and leave only memories behind.

Our friendship fades away, and I do nothing to stop it. And I wonder, deep in my heart, is it my fault, or is it something inevitable, that can't be helped?

I will still say hi to you when I see you online, and even make the little smiley face that tells you I am happy to talk to you. And I will still go through the routine of asking how you are, and answering the question back, even if I know that we are leaving a lot unsaid. Things are different now.

I'm learning to let go, let memories be memories, and realize that some friendships were not meant to last.

It hurts when they fade away... but maybe I have to learn to let it be.

Relationships

People come into your life for a reason, a season or
a lifetime.

When you know which one it is, you will know what to
do for that person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is
usually to meet a need you have expressed.

They have come to assist you through a difficulty,
to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you
physically, emotionally or spiritually.

They may seem like a godsend and they are.
They are there for the reason you need them to be.

Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time,

this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.

Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away.
Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.

What we must realize is that our need has been met,
our desire fulfilled, their work is done.
The prayer you sent up has been answered and now,

it is time to move on.

Some people come into your life for a SEASON,
because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.

They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.
They may teach you something you have never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.

Believe it, it is real. But only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons,
things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.

Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person,

and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas
of your life.

It is said that love is blind but
friendship is clairvoyant.

Thank you for being a part of my life, whether you
were a reason, a season or a lifetime.

Cuppa tea at 3

This article has been published in The Jewish Press

It's 3 am. Just going to sleep. Why Altie, you ask me, do you go to sleep so late? Yes, I have a good answer. And it has to do with my Mama, and some hot tea.

1 am, ready for bed. Showered, even brushed my teeth. Doing my last email check for the day. (Don't ask how many times a day I check it, I don't even know.) I hear her coming down the stairs. 'Hey Mama.' She can't sleep, she tells me. So she goes to make herself a cup of tea. That's what she does to calm down. I drink tea strictly when I'm sick, but my mama will have a cup anytime.

I gravitate towards the kitchen. It feels good to have another person up at this time. Makes me feel like I'm not the only one left on earth. I sit near her, in pj's. We talk about everything. Anything. I can tell her whatever I'm thinking, and she doesn't judge me. She always tries to find the good in everything, even if I feel like the choices I make and the things I do make me a bad person.

We solve world problems, my mama and I. The shidduch crisis? What crisis? My mama has too much faith too believe in that. And it rubbed off on me. She tells me that even before a child is born, it is decreed in heaven who they will marry. Does it matter if they have money, what kind of family they come from? They use paper plates on shabbos?? Ch''v! Not for my son! She didn't go to seminary? Then how will she know how to raise kids? Like really.

But mama, she sees through all of that. 'It is all up to Hashem', is what she says. You will marry who you are supposed to marry. He is out there somewhere, waiting for the right time. And when she goes to the ohel, I know to bring something with me to do, cuz she can be there for hours.

We talk about politics. Or rather, my lack of understanding on politics. She tells me why she voted for Obama, despite lots of religious Jews putting him down. She explains things to me, things that I seemingly don't understand. We discuss it, and my opinion is validated.

I tell her how I feel a lack of direction now, being out of high school. Like no on told me what to do next. And she assures me that I will figure it all out soon.

All my fears and worries, my anxiety, we discuss over a hot cup of tea. There is so much going on in the world, in my life. I sometimes blow it out of proportion, and make it harder to deal with. But my mama brushes it off. Everything's fine. Everything will be okay. It's all up to Hashem.

I feel like a little girl again. Just talking to my mama. She makes everything better. I kiss her good night, inhaling the familiar calming smell of her lotion. I go to sleep, at peace with the world.

And everything is going to be okay. It's all up to Hashem, after all.
I know, cuz my mama said so.

Just listen

I want to write, but I can't. I can't, because most of the stuff I want to say shouldn't be shared here.

Someone pointed out to me that my blog is mostly about me. I laughed and thought that was absurd. I said my blog is about how I relate to the world, and other people, my thoughts and feelings on things, etc. Then I noticed how many times I said I, or 'me' in that sentence. But why would anyone want to read about my life? And the answer I got was, 'your life is interesting to read about.'

I'm not sure what that meant, or how I should feel about that, but I'll take it.

I'm writing with my new laptop, and the cursor isn't working properly. It keeps moving postions, and typing in random sentences, places it's not supposed to be. It keeps straying. It's (damn) annoying, and I feel like cursing myself, but I'm not supposed to. (A curse in parenthesis doesn't count. My rule.)

I could tell you about the text I got, the standard one from my friends, showing that they care about me. I could tell you what the text means, and why I shouldn't have gotten it.

I could tell you about how I heard Jewish music playing in the local Jewish supermarket, and I thought, that's weird, I haven't heard this stuff in a long time.

I could tell you about how I heard someone davening, and saying tehillim, and wishing that person was me.

I could tell you a lot of things. But I'm not going to. I'm going to keep quiet, and you are going to make believe you heard all the stuff I'm not telling you. That's how it's gonna work.

And I'm gonna feel better for telling you, and you are gonna nod your heads in understanding, and tell me, 'don't worry, everything will be okay.'

And I will believe you, because I have to believe.

Thanks for listening.

One year

It's been a year since I started this blog. It feels like my birthday, in a way. Reflecting over the year, all that happened. A year is a number, an amount of days. But so much can happen in a year.

I started this blog for a reason. There's a story behind how this blog came to be, as there's a story behind every good thing. But I will not share it with you, because it is personal. What happened, happened, and B"H, cuz a good thing came out of it.

Someone told me to start a blog to 'help people who are in my situation.' To give encouragement, inspiration, etc. Whether or not I accomplished that is not up to me. I tried my best.

Thank you, for giving me the push to start writing. 215 posts later, here I am. So many ups and downs, so many times I wanted to quit and abandon writing altogether. But I didn't, cuz then you would win. And we can't have that, can we.

I hope that through this blog I touched at least one person, inspired someone, changed a life, or just put a smile on a dreary face. Cuz that was my goal.

Here's to another great year of writing. A year of inspiration, of thoughts, ideas, emotions. It should be a year full of simchas, and change, growth and maturation for everyone. Lots of brachos, only revealed good, and may we see Moshiach right now!!

Happy Blogaversary!

I'm happy cuz

I'm happy cuz I'm free. Cuz now I can do whatever I want. I'm happy cuz I'm not tied down. Cuz I can get up whenever I want, buy a ticket, get on a plane. Go to Mexico. Or Cambodia. Wherever. And no one would miss me. No one would call me demanding to know where I am. Free. No strings attached.

I'm happy walking outside, enjoying the pleasant weather. I'm happy sitting on a bench, on the busy street, watching the cars go by. I'm happy with the wind in my hair.

I'm happy even though I'm tired. I'm falling asleep on the subway, and still I find time to laugh at the guy facing the wrong doors, as it pulls to a stop. Only to realize that he wasn't getting off after all, and the joke was on me.

I'm happy when I see a girl with balloons, and I imagine that it is her birthday. I am happy for her.

I am happy despite being sick with a cold, and wishing I can go to sleep for a long time.

I am happy cuz I'm standing there, and the subway rushes towards me really fast, and I love the feeling I get every time, my hair whipping about, and the thrill, that feeling that I am standing so close to the edge, but I know I won't go over. I just know.

I am happy because I am me, and no one else. Because I was born for a reason, even though that reason seems to evade me many a time.

I am happy cuz I have friends, even though they sometimes lock the door when I am still out, and then don't bother to call to see where I am and if I'm safe.

I'm happy cuz I'm driving the car by myself, no pressure in the back seat. And the music is blasting, and I'm singing on the top of my lungs. And I have a bad cold, and I know I sound bad, even to my own ears, but luckily I can't hear it. And what the heck. We only live once.

I'm happy cuz I have family who love me. Cuz they care. Cuz I can call them up on the phone, even when I am living a few blocks away. And it's okay to cry to them. To them, cuz they understand. Cuz even if they can't help, they want to make the ache go away. And they will talk to you, and even make jokes that are not funny, just to make you feel better. Just to hear you laugh. And they always tell you not to worry, that everything will be okay. And even if you know that may not be true, you believe them, you trust them. Cuz they make it all better. And that makes me happy.

I'm happy even if I don't always smile. I'm happy even if I don't show it. I'm happy despite the things that go wrong in my life. Because when I am having a really bad day, and yes, maybe I even feel depressed, I walk outside, and I feel the sunshine. Or I see the full moon shining in the nighttime sky. And it is so beautiful, and so natural. And how can you not be happy?

And I smile, an ironic smile, cuz who am I to be upset. And I remember who I am, and where I have come from, where I am going. I remember.

Yes I'm happy. You may look at me and not see it. But really, am I supposed to care what you think? You don't know what goes on in my head. You don't know my thoughts and feelings. You think you know. You want to know. You try to know. But you don't.

No, I'm not happy all the time. But admit it, neither are you.

And don't try to call my bluff. Because I'll call you on yours.

What's the point?

Some people have a problem with honesty. As in, they don't know how to be honest. I have a problem with honesty. As in, I don't know how to be dishonest. I'm too honest. You get the point. (Here is where you ask me what I'm talking about, and I very politely say, oh no sir, (or maam) I can't tell you that. And if I tell you I'll have to kill you.)

Now I have a question: try this math equation. If a person wakes up at 6:45 am, leaves to work at 7:30, starts work at 8:30, works until 5:30, gets home at 6:15, leaves to school at 7, comes back from school at 10:30- well, where is there space for free time? Like down time. Chillin time. Time to sit on the computer and watch a show, talk to friends, breath. Wasting time. Ya it's called wasting for a reason, but if you didn't waste any time, or you didn't have any time to waste, then what would be the point of living? To go to work and make money? To go to school and get a degree, so later you can make money? Does the answer to the equation always equal money?

Money money, sure is funny, in a rich man's world.

I'd love to have money, at the very least be comfortable. Be able to pay bills, buy food, and still have some left over for boots. But hey, we don't always get what we want in life.

Sometimes I wish that life had a return label, that never expired. And when we get sick of it, we can exchange it for something better, or just give it in altogether. Ask g-d for an exbox insteasd, or a laptop. Say sorry, I don't want it.

And I ask again: what is the point?

The end, the beginning

The memories, all the memories, from years and years of accumulated stuff. I guess it doesn't really matter now. Packed away in boxes and bins, stuffed in closets and under beds. So much stuff to show for all the years. But no place to put it, no shelves to display it, no hooks to hang things on. So it waits in the dark, silently, until someone will pay it some attention.

And in the meantime, I pass by it on my way out the door. No I'm not gonna stop. No I have no time to reminisce. I wish I did. But life is such that I live on the go. Go go go. Only forward, no looking back. No time for memories, no time to cry, or laugh, or sniff, or remember. Just no time at all.

My new apartment awaits. My stuff will stay behind in my family house. Until they move. Until I come to collect it. Until I get married and decide to sort through it, do the job that I dread, throw stuff away, put some in storage for keepsake, put some of it on display, and choose to remember, to go back into my past. Until then.

But for now, it is goodbye. Until later.

I'm moving out tonight.

Ugh uch uchhhhh!

Crownheights.info, my number #1 disliked site, because of all the awful comments. Read this op-ed. And this one. And this, and maybe this. Read all the op-eds if you have time and patience. I for one do not. Have time, or patience, that is. To read this stuff, let alone all the comments that come with it.

Like really, no one cares what you think, especially if it's a negative comment. If you really feel like you have something valid to say, and care for the world and everyone beyond to hear you screaming your opinion, such as this one,

"antimesira wrote:

Its the easiest thing to blame both sides.
Its the easiest thing to put facts aside.
Its the easiest thing to disregard any issue as “just politics”.
Its the easiest thing to disregard right and wrong.
Its the easiest thing to write up a whole op-ed doing just that.
The FACT is There are people from the community who are facing trial.
The FACT is that the “complainants”/Mossrim are other Yiddin.
The FACT is the above op-ed, as much as the author means well, does not help the party in trouble. 
This is just another “who cares, everybody babies” op-ed.
Send it straight to the shredder."

Then start a blog. Maybe someone will actually read what you write. But to blasphemy your words on this news site, that is just trying to keep the world up to date on the happenings in and around Crown Heights, it's pointless in my opinion. 

Don't read the comments, and I'll be very disappointed to see you comment after following the links.

And then there's this: http://www.shomrimdefense.com/. Honestly, I don't know the whole story, and nor do I care. What DOES bother me is seeing grown men fighting, and taking each other to court, and squabbling like little children. And all I have to say is uuuuuuuccccchhhhhh!!!!! Stop fighting already! Grow up!

And no I will not write an elaborate op-ed for the infamous crownheights.info, because I do not need 100+ negative comments on my opinion alone. So I will say what I have to say here:

Keep your opinion to yourself. Stop fighting. Grow up. Deal with other people in a civilized manner. Grow up. Grow up. Groooooooow up!!!!!! And STOP FIGHTING!!!!!

Is that all? Okay good. And one more thing:

Happy Halloween! Have fun trick-or-treating, and be nice and put out some candy for the cutely dressed kids that come to your door.

We should have Moshiach RIGHT NOW, and no more stupid comments on ch.info!

Hear hear!!

No sleep=????

The study

"Americans suffer from a chronic lack of sleep, according to a study released on Thursday, which says the problem is a bigger public health problem than is generally recognized.

The study, published in the most recent issue of the Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report, a health journal, found that almost one-third of Americans get less than seven hours of sleep per night, which is generally considered the minimum for an average adult to feel rested."

In my own words: no sleep equals minimal functioning ability, lack of focus, and a general tirednessnessness.

Study or no study, I slept very little this past week, and 18 hours on shabbos. No joke.

And on the subway on the way home from work, a lot of the people in my car were caught with their heads nodding off. Mine included. I think I had one of those unconscious moments where you feel yourself falling, and then suddenly wake up. And a guy was staring at me. All I could think was, hey, if you were as tired as me, you would do the same thing. 

The solution: go to sleep earlier!! 

Always a lesson

A Puerto Rican guy on the subway today reminded me of something that I often forget.

In life, the things that are fast and easy are not usually good for us, and the things that are good for us are not fast and easy.

But then again, good things age with time and get better. And the things that were instant pleasures were just an illusion, and will eventually disappear.

So would you rather have old good wine? Or cheap grape juice? Instant oatmeal, or the good ole stuff? Instant relationships, or wait for the real thing?

You tell me.

We don't live forever- so live now!!

Two nice things about my job interview today- this was a job I saw an add for months ago, when I wanted to get a job this year. I never pursued it, but that just goes to show that Hashem has His plan, and it will happen when, and if it is supposed to.

The second thing: in the man's office there was a sign hanging with a poem on it. I realy liked it, so I snapped a picture of it (when he stepped out of the room.) Now I'll share it with you:

First, I was dying to finish high school and start college.

And then I was dying to finish college and start working.

Then I was dying to marry and have children.

And then I was dying for my children to grow old enough, so I could go back to work.

But then I was dying to retire.

And now I am dying...

And suddenly I realized,

I forgot to live.

Please don't let this happen to you.

Appreciate your current situation,

and enjoy every day.

To make money we lose our health,

and then to restore our health we lose our money.

We live as if we are never going to die,

and we die as if we never lived....

Class and stuff. And job

I am supposed to be in class. No, we had a 5 minute break. I just extended it a bit. Cuz really, why would you read a whole chapter in one day, (50 pages) only to come to class and have the teacher teach you what you just read, and consequentially, already know? Pontless? I think so.

In other news: I have finally joined the land of the employed!!!!!! Let it be know that I HAVE A JOB!!!!! I'm supposed to be at work tomorrow at 9 am for my first day. Crazy, or what? Wish me luck!

And whatever you do, don't ask me what the job is. It takes too long to explain. Use your imagination... but don't take it too far.

A lady is on her phone checking up on her kids, telling them to go to bed. And she is in my class!!! What a weird world we live in.

In other news, (other than the other other) my laptop came today!! I'm gonna have a naming ceremony, so any suggestions are welcome. Just not Mendel. Please.

There are men davening maariv outside, and I have to go to class. Goodbye world. Things are definitely looking up for me!!

Support

Everyone always says that the one person who really matters in supporting you is you. You are your own support system. At the end of the day, it doesn't matter what anyone else says, as long as YOU are happy with what you did. Yadayadayada.

Really? Cuz at my graduation, I was not applauding myself in the audience. I was on stage, glaring at everyone, telepathically telling them to clap for me, or bad things would happen.

When I headed my school production, and I was up there saying my speech, I was hoping the audience was big enough that my words would make an impact. And oh ya, my mother was there, and I knew she would applaud me.

So that isn't really true. You can't only rely on yourself. When you get a good mark on a test, or buy a shirt at a bargain price, you are bursting to share it with someone. And somehow, it doesn't seem to be the same when you say,
'Guess what Altie?!'
'What??'
'I got 100% on my test!!'
'Yay!'
'I know!'
'I'm proud of me!!'
'I know! Me too!'

Ya, just not the same.

Of course, it's always nice to buy yourself something when you did good. Like, oh I'm so proud of myself, I am gonna splurge and buy that new pair of boots I really wanted! Yay for me!

But for some reason, it feels much nicer when the support comes from a friend. When you are struggling with a problem, and you finally resolve it, it feels so good to whisper to your friend, 'it's over', and see her beam with pride, cuz she knows exactly what you are talking about.

And when you come home and find a present on your bed, and you know it's from your parents cuz they are proud of you, it makes your victory all the more special.

Presents aren't everything. A hug, a word, a look. Just to KNOW that someone else has your back, that they CARE what you do, that when you are going through hard times, they are there with you, they understand your struggle, and cheer you on till the very end.

That is what matters. Yes, YOU can support YOU, but knowing that someone else does too, that's what makes the struggles all the more bearable, and the victory, that much sweeter.

Moving On

I decided to try something new. I'm not gonna think anymore. That's right. I'm gonna shut my mind down, turn it off like I would a computer, and leave it for now. And if that means no more writing, then so be it.

To think is to stress. To think is to contemplate. To think is to go over and over it again in my mind, examine all angles, and try to decide if I might have been able to do it better, if I was given the chance to turn back the clocks. This can be applied to life, to mistakes, to any situation really. So really, what is the point? After all is said and done, what is the point of thinking about it, worrying, obsessing that it might have, could have, should have been different? Just stop thinking about it, give it a break, and give me some peace and quiet.

I remember the name of my blog. Moving On. For lack of a better name, and cuz it seemed to fit. Doesn't matter where I'm coming from. Sometimes it doesn't even seem to matter where I am now. The only thing that matters is where I'm going. And how I plan to get there.

The truth: I have no idea. Sometimes I don't even know what I'm doing tomorrow, let alone in ten years from now. I wish I knew. It would be easier if I did. Reassuring. Don't worry, in ten years you will be doing ____________,
you will have ______________ amount of kids, you will live in a house that looks like _____________ and has ______ amount of rooms. Wouldn't that be nice?

But life is a guessing game. We can't know. We don't know. We have to find out, figure it out, live it out, hold on tight till the next stage. Till better things come our way. Till this thing we call life straightens itself out, makes some sense, becomes understandable.

Moving On. It doesn't matter what I did last night, (if I told you I'd have to kill you.) It doesn't matter what I did yesterday. Or last week. It doesn't even matter what I did today. Cuz all of that becomes the past the second it happens.

Now, now it is the present becoming the future. The future just waiting to happen. So many great things may be upon us. Just let it happen.

Like Yossi said over at his blog, "If you want to be chassidish, the first step is to start acting chassidish!!"
A very good thing to remember. It's not easy, but no one said that life was gonna be easy.

3 am Tryst

There are better things to do in life then take pictures of strange bocherim. (If you think of any, make sure to let me know.)

Imagine the scene: 3 am, three girls sitting on a bench on Eastern Parkway, across the street from 770. Chilling, and chatting, and hanging out. One girl pulls out her camera to take some good shots of the Parkway of Eastern, at this late hour.

Meanwhile, sitting on the next bench over is a yeshiva bocher, a young man, we will call him Mendel. He is not so surreptitiously staring at the 3 girls the whole time. Suddenly, he sees the picture taking, and finding a good opportunity,  makes his way over to their bench to inquire as to the nature of this.

He asks why they are snapping pictures of him. They tell him politely that they were not, they merely wanted to capture the beauty of the street. He doesn't believe them, and calls them a not so nice name that starts with a 'b'.

One of the girls on the bench, we will call her Altie, said very nicely to this young man, 'that is not a nice word to say to girls, especially coming from a yeshiva bocher such as yourself.' Says the bocher, 'I'm not in yeshiva.' Says Altie, 'nevertheless, you are wearing a black hat.' As if that concludes the argument.

The bocher Mendel (perhaps that wasn't his name) stalks away, after saying the 'b' word one more time. And thus ends the story.

Until the 3 girls noticed him sitting on another bench not so far away, watching them. Oh well. Some people never give up.

Oh and, contrary to what her friends suggested, Altie did not snap pictures of this man, as he had accused them, because she thought that practice rude and immature.

If you are reading this, Mendel, all I have to say is, didn't yo mama teach you better??

Remember

He always knows what to say, He always knows what to tell me, and exactly what I need to hear, and He sends it at the right time.

I needed a reminder, a big reminder. And I got it. In the form of 2 comments, on a post that I wrote. They were in Spanish, and I had to translate them. But hey, G-d speaks many languages.

When you are feeling low, and you need encouragement, a sign, that you are going in the right direction, there is always a wake up call. He will deliver it in some form or another. Never forget that.

It's the funniest thing when you hear an atheist say, with a big sigh, 'oh G-d in heaven!'

Creepy

Who wears sunglasses on a day when it's not even sunny outside? And on the subway, nonetheless. It creeps me out, just a bit, and makes me wonder, is she looking at me, is she not, is she...? Guess I'll never know the answer.

An Enigma

You asked me a question that I could not answer.
Not that I didn't know it,
Or never thought about it.
Never pondered it.

You asked me a question that I could not answer.
Maybe would not is a better way to put it.
A pause in the conversation. Awkward.
Where to go from here.

You asked me a question that I could not answer.
Standing on one foot, too abrupt for my taste.
Not here, not now.
It takes time, for an appropriate answer to your question.

You asked me a question that I could not answer.
But this question may need a lifetime.
And you barely have a minute.
So why bother answering you?

You asked me a question that I could not answer.
You asked me,
'Who are you?'
And I could not, would not, answer you.

Where have you gone

Where have you gone, carefree days?
Those days we spent together,
soaking up the sun,
enjoying the weather.

Where have you gone, carefree days?
Wind in our hair,
sand between our toes,
no worries whatsoever.

Where have you gone, carefree days?
A buck for a coffee,
late to bed, late to rise,
and always happy.

Where have you gone, carefree days?
You've left us for the here and now.
Textbooks so heavy,
gotta sleep, gotta study.

Smiles not as easy,
no sun that I see.
Cold chilly days,
winter approaching.

Gotta live, gotta learn, gotta move on.
Figure it out.
Find a place.
Get a job. Grow up.

Where have you gone, carefree days?
And why is it so difficult,
to take what once was,
mix it with the here and now,
and make something new?

Where have you gone, carefree days?
Have you left me?
Or is it I,
that has left you?

One day

She looked like herself, yes. Like I remembered her, every day we spend together in Israel. Her smile, and her laugh. It was her. But somehow, she was different. Maybe it was the white dress, or the veil. The tehillim in her lap. The reality of it, the fact that this was her wedding day! Now she is moving on to a new stage. She is not one of us. She is... married!!!

It was amazing! I love weddings. The music that makes you want to dance, the bride, that looks so beautiful, and makes you want to dance, the dancing, that makes you want to dance, the energy in the air, the chocolate liquor, (girly stuff, but alcohol nonetheless) all of which triggers something in you, and makes you want to dance, to be free!

Forming one big circle with all of my friends, just like it used to be, all of us together again. (Well, not ALL of us, but whoever was in town and could make it.) I am so happy for the new couple.

The first wedding, the one that hits home, that makes you realize that this is it, from this point on there is only one direction we can go. Forward. No going back. Soon, soon. The first of many.

Iy''H by you, may we celebrate many simchas this year!!

Diversity

I'm the only white person on the subway car. Everyone else is black. No, I'm not racist, I just notice my surroundings. I am not uncomfortable, it is what I'm used to. I should feel like the odd one out- but what does the color of your skin matter? It doesn't.

There is a sign on every subway car by designated seats that states: 'Priority seating, for person's with disabilities.' Underneath that it says, 'Not all disabilities are visible.' If I was with my friends, some of them might have jokingly said, 'some disabilities are in the head.' But it is not a joke- cuz that is the truth.

Can you climb trees? Can you do ballet? Do you have a good singing voice? Are you good at math? If you answered 'no' to any of those questions, then you have a disability. That's right. You are UNable to do something. As is every human being, simply because we were all born with different talents and abilities, and no one can do everything.

I was a volunteer for Friendship Circle when I was in for high school. It is an organization that helps children with disabilities make friends. Volunteers go to the children's houses once a week, play with them, hang out, and become their friend.

Is it possible to see a person with a visible disability and not notice it? If a person passes by you in a wheelchair, or on crutches, will you tell me that they weren't in a wheelchair, or that you did not see it? That would be denial. It is okay to notice difference. It is normal to realize that someone is not exactly like you. Whether is is a physical difference, the inability to do a certain task that comes naturally to others, or even something that you may not see, may never know about the person.

We ARE all different, that is the point, and that is how it is supposed to be. If we were all clones of one another, or all dressed the same, had the same name, etc, it would be a boring world. Diversity is what makes the universe such a colorful place.

We should notice differences, but instead of being disgusted by it, or perhaps feel threatened by it, we should embrace it, and learn to appreciate each person for their differences, for what they can bring to the table.

If I sit on the subway and notice that I am the only white person there- does that make me racist? I think not.

The sky's the limit

They used to say this, all the time. (Whoever 'they' are.) But it can't be true.

Maybe years ago, people would look up at the sky and think it so vast, so far away, so unreachable. Now, we barely need to tilt our head, and we see little lights blinking, flashing, airplanes flying, taking off and landing. We've reached the sky, long ago. So is that it? Is the sky really the limit?

In 1969, humans made it to the moon. We've learned about outer space, above and beyond our own little universe. The sky ceases to be important, when it is so easy to surpass it. And is that it? Or can we go further than the moon? Is there more out there that we haven't even discovered yet?

Is it possible that if we sent out a spaceship, they can go past the sky, past the moon, and keep going, until they reach that space we like to call heaven? Can they find the entrance, simply knock at the door, walk in and say, hi God, we found you!

Is the sky really the limit? Or is there so much more potential that we haven't even discovered yet?

Listen up!

I just learned a lesson from a Chassidisher man, (I would say yoeli, but I know you'll all jump on me.) who was interviewing me. I'll tell you about it, but make sure you only take the lesson out of it, forget the little unimportant details (like whether or not I got the job, like would I really tell you if I didn't?)

He asked me where I'm holding in yidishkeit, I guess he wanted to get a feel of how frum (or unfrum) I am. I told him about where I thought I was at. He asked me what would I consider a low point (like if I wasn't so 'frum'). I said I don't daven every day. And then he told me like this:

That doesn't make you frum or not frum, chassidish, or not, a good person or not good. According to halacha, a woman or girl is only required to daven when she is able to, if it doesn't interfere with children or family, and only one prayer a day. Anything more than that is nice, but unnecessary. In addition, he told me, a woman has very few mitzvos to keep, derabanon, like shabbos, and kashrus, where it concerns her family, and even for herself.

It is when a child or adult feels pressured to keep everything, half of which isn't technically required of them, that they feel like it is too much, and instead, they drop everything and end up doing nothing at all.

He told me a story of a father, who had a son that went off the derech. The father wrote his son out of his will, leaving no money to him after the father would die. The father told his rebbe what he did, and the rebbe said, don't do that. Tell your son that if he agrees to keep only 2 mitzvos, you will give him all your money. The 2 mitzvos the rebbe said were shabbos and teffilin.
The father related this to his son, the son thought about it, and agreed, thinking it wouldn't be hard to keep only 2 mitzvos.

Years passed, and slowly the son took on more mitzvos, till eventually he was fully frum again. He came to his father and said he wanted to rip up the agreement. The father got worried that the son didn't want to be frum anymore. But the son said, no, I want these mitzvos to be mine, not yours, so stop paying me for them.

He (the interviewer) told me to write all this up on my blog, so here it is. He says it is a good thing for people to know, because he knows there are many girls out there who think the way I do, and are therefore not frum because it seems overwhelming to keep everything, and easier to keep nothing.

The lesson: do as much as you can do in avodas Hashem, and if that means the bare minimum for you, then do that, and be happy about it! Ivdu es Hashem besimcha!

It felt weird learning a lesson like this from someone who is not a lubavitcher chossid, because seemingly, I should know this already. But as the baal shem tov says, we must learn a lesson from everything we see, and how much more so, everyone we meet. Even in a job interview.

Lechaim

8 AM- as it should be

Hello, 8 AM. We haven't seen each other in awhile. Oh no, me and 2 PM have been best friends till now. Until today. This very morning, to be exact.

The air was chilly, 8 AM, but manageable. There were lots of people outside. I guess you have many friends. I'm not one of them.

I smelled coffee! And glorious, lovely smells, wafting from a bakery. Sweet croissants, and donuts, soft and doughy. But I did not stop for a coffee break, I continued on.

There was much traffic on the streets, 8 AM. How peculiar, thought I. Until I realized, that this was 8 AM, as it should be.

Was no one else marveling at the things I was seeing, the children going to school, and parents going to work? No, 8 AM, I stood alone in my astonishment. It's been so long, 8 AM, it's been so long since last I saw you smile.

But today, 8 AM, all was as it should be. I got some shopping done. And the sun was shining! Oh Mr. Sun, how I've missed you.

And you, 8 AM, my old friend, it's good to have you back.

1st real driving experience

If you really wanna know, ask the people who were in the car. Yes, I was there, but being in the driver's seat doesn't count.

I drove to the ohel with 2 friends. My father made me take side streets cuz I don't have enough highway experience. I got lost. There, AND back. But at least I finally got there.

Then I drove to Boro Park. And got lost on the way too.

Hey, having a license doesn't mean you have a sense of direction. I need a GPS thingamajig.

Well you can ask me to drive you to JFK airport. I was there today. No, I wasn't supposed to be.

Aaahhhhh, but it's all part of the experience.

My shopping tale

While reading a post on Yossi's blog about shopping in Macy's, it reminded me of this story that happened recently. 

Funny story- I bought a skirt, and they forgot to take off the security tag. I vaguely recall hearing the detector beep as I walked out the store, but as luck would have it, the security guard waved me through without checking.

When I came home and realized their error, then realized I didn't have the receipt to prove I didn't steal it, I was in a dilemma. If I let my mother go back unattended, she would surely just pay for it again, and I couldn't have that, cuz I was innocent, oh yes I was.

So, to make a long story short, we went back, the lady said 'no receipt- no service.' Or something like that. She told us to talk to the security guard, who seemed very puzzled at being bothered on his break- I mean his on-duty time. Took the skirt, said no problem, brought it over to the counter and used that doo hiky machine thingamajig to take off the tag, and let us go, free of charge.

I came home, tried on the skirt and- you guessed it- decided I hated it, why did I ever buy it, and after all that trouble of getting the tag off, I'm gonna return it and get store credit.

Great story.

You have the power

I watch as your eyes light up, as I tell you about him,
this person I just met.
A smile stretches across your face,
you look wistful, as if you see what I'm telling you,
right in front of you.

They are nice things, everything I'm saying.
I'm painting a picture for you. He is a good person.
You tell me you like him already,
because of what I said,
the power of my words.

You can't know him, because you haven't met him.
All you know is what I say, what I let you see.

I watch as you scowl in anger,
displeased as I am, upset for me.
A teacher I dislike, and now you dislike her too.
You absorb what I tell you, add stuff of your own,
You think you know her, how unfair she is, from what I say.

You sympathize with me, the bad grade I got.
The mean teacher who gave me the grade.
You don't know all the facts. You will never know,
that I didn't study for that test. All you know,
is that I don't like her, and now she is an enemy of you, too.

You can't know her, because you haven't met her.
All you know is what I say, what I let you see.

You have the power.
Your words can make an impression,
can influence a decision.
They can make it or break it.
Help a person, or hurt them.

People will take your words out of context,
twist them, distort them,
use them for their own advantage.
Once they leave your mouth- they are no longer your own,
but everyone's to use.

Make sure to only say things
that you wouldn't mind being quoted as saying.
Cuz if it makes you cringe
hearing your own words read back to you,
then be careful that those words never leave your mouth.

You have the power.

Tis finally over

I always hesitate to use the computer after a long holiday, or even Shabbos. It's like I'm not ready to get back to real life, all the mundane things I have to take care of. Emails that have to be responded to that I'd really rather not, people to chat with, news that I've missed, the world continues to turn, but for 2 blissful days, I was unaware of it. And with a cold splash, it's back to reality.

100 pages of psychology to read for tomorrow, cuz I procrastinated. I'm still apartment hunting, and job hunting. No more sitting back and taking it easy. Life continues, or more accurately, life begins.

The holidays are over, until next year. Until Chanuka. Until Halloween, or something significant comes along to break up the monotony of life, routine, day after day.

But I'm depressing myself with these thoughts.

Hope everyone had a good holiday. Now back to reality! 

So you think you can dance

There's a solid wall in front of me, blocking me from the wind, keeping me warm. Bodies pressed up against me, in front, back, and all sides. Squeezing my friend's hand to make sure she is still there. Moving, swaying, tapping to the beat, because it's catchy, infectious. Head bobbing up and down, lips singing along with the familiar tune.

As the night goes on, reservations disappear, to be replaced with a serge of energy. Giddy, high on happiness. And yes, some alcohol to loosen up. Hidden in coat pockets, disguised in water bottles and juice. But hey, if it works for you.

Diverse, so many different people. The yolis (for lack of a better word, don't bother me on that one) with the curly peyos, flat hats, fur hats, no hats. Lubavitchers with smashed hats. All dancing together, one big circle.

The hats change heads. Now the Lubav has the yolis hat and vice versa. Identities disappear, we are one, one crowd, one nation, one people, in G-d we trust.

And the dancing goes on and on. The energetic ones try to pull people into the circle, the ones standing on the wayside. But they are reluctant. To dance is to let yourself go, be free, one with the music, all inhibitions aside. But alas, not everyone is capable. Some, the outer shell is too thick to be disposed of, even for a night. But they come anyway, stand and watch, absorb.

So you think you can dance- if we had a show off between the lubavitchers and all other groups, we would win, hands down. Yes, we can dance!

I want to take a picture, capture this moment for all eternity. Swaying, arms linked, legs kicking in the air, flags waving, people dancing, white shirts and colored, black pants and jeans, bald heads and long hair and in between. Israeli, American, South African, Australian, French, British, Brazilian, all nationalities mixed in one, one common thread, we are all Jews.

But there are many photographers here tonight, plus a live video. I left my camera at home. And the greatest memories of all will remain in the heart, they can't be captured on the screen.

These are but fleeting moments. Soon I'll look back on this and say, I wish I took advantage more.

5 am, walking home, don't care what I look like, too tired, too tired, eyes closing, just wanna be home.

Dance the night away, don't look anywhere but straight ahead. Live in the moment, the here and now.

Here, and now, it's 5 am and my bed is calling. Hows THAT for a positive post, you people who insulted my negativity. I can do it. Just takes a bit more effort.

Driving test

I PASSSSSSSSSSSSSSED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

For details, you're gonna havta ask. Right now I'm busy celebrating my victory!!!!!!!!!!!!

Airports, road test, simchas bais, some stuuufff

Searching the ramp, again and again and again. Maybe now, no not yet. Check the screen, ya it's on time, came in already. No not yet, people and more people, but not her. Check the exits, no didn't miss her.

Airports make me nervous, coming or going. Even when I'm not flying. I try not to laugh, but those guys with the signs always amuse me. They all look some form of Indian, and probably can't pronounce the name they are holding up. But hey, at least someone will be waiting for them.

10 of them lined up in a row, like characters in a cartoon. Belatedly, I thought of making a sign, but no paper or pen.

Getting nervous, still not here. Check the time again and again. Half an hour passed, how long does it take?

Finally, finally, I see her. Welcome to the US of A! My British friend made it.

Did I say airports make me nervous?

Resolution for the new year: (yes I know R"H passed, but always late then never) be more positive, try not to see the negative.

Simchas bais again tonight. Very nice. Some rain, all the yolis covering up their hats. Lubavitchers don't bother, the hat isn't the main part.

Contacts killing my eyes, bad bad bad, driving test tomorrow, wish me luck. (The old me wouldve sais, I have no chance of passing, but the new POSITIVE me says, I will do it!!)

Soon, the roads will be mine! Mwaahaaahahaha!!

What do you see

The Simchas bais hashueva in Crown Heights was graced with my presence last night. Yes, they were lucky to have me. Dodging people and carriages, kids spraying silly spray and me trying not to get caught in the cross fire, and feeling out of my element with all these people at once, I managed to find my friends. We tried to talk (scream) above the noise of the music, when suddenly the music stopped. Ya, that's more like it. Then the video came on.

To see the Rebbe's face on the side of a building, to watch the video and hear the words he is saying, and try to understand, you forget where you are. Everyone just stops and looks up. Yes, there are some people who don't care to see it, and are caught sneaking away, but there are always those.

So many conflicting thoughts. It struck me- why would the Rebbe want to see this? Would he be shepping nachas from this, or would it disappoint him? But even without the video, he is still watching. And what does he see? The same thing I see.

Lots of men dancing, it is a pleasure to watch. Straimels and curly peyos, and yamulkas, and beaten up lubavitch hats, all dancing together in one invigorating circle. I wish I could be a part of it instead of an outsider looking in.

Lots and lots of kids, acting silly and wild, spraying silly spray, and making a scene.

The corner, that infamous one of Kingston and Crown, where girls and boys meet up and linger, like it's some kind of private lounge. Every time I walk by there, I hurry, and try not to rub shoulders with member's of the opposite gender (MOTOG- cheerio).

2 sides to every coin. Always trying to be positive, don't want to name negative things, but I see it. I can't deny that. I don't want to be here, cuz it's not my kind of crowd. But maybe I see it all wrong?

It's so easy to say, if I were G-d... what would I do. But G-d's not handing over the reigns to me anytime soon. And that might be a good thing, because depending on the day, I might be overly harsh on humans, or overly lax. And neither will do.

I'm just human, and I see what I see. Isn't it better to stand and watch the dancing, and not look where you don't want to see? Yes. But it's like living in a bubble, and denying the negative is even there.

I'm not the Rebbe. I'm not G-d, and I'm not great. What I see hurts me. But then again, maybe I'm looking in the wrong place.

2 sides to every coin. I'm far from perfect. Maybe the Rebbe is looking down on this and smiling out of nachas. I don't know. And if he is happy to see this, then who am I to contradict?

Who am I? That is yet to be seen. But I realized, no matter how far a person thinks he strays, he never really goes that far. As much as actions count, so does emotions. A lot of it is in the heart. Hartz, in yidish. It's a feeling. Happiness when I watch the dancing, pride when I see a Lubavitcher on the subway, that pang that 'he is mine, we come from the same place' even though I don't know him. When I see a picture of the Rebbe and it pulls at my heartstrings, a longing for something I am missing, a yearning to be more than I am, to want to please someone, even though I usually despise doing that.

Yes, I've been in denial. But there's two sides of a fence, and I think I'm straddling it.

What do I see when I look out over the crowd? I see the negative. But maybe, quite possibly, I'm looking at it from the wrong perspective.  

Nothing is a guarantee

Nothing is a guarantee.

Not friends. No one said you will have friends, and if you do, consider yourself lucky.

Not health. No one said you will be healthy, or live many years. Take it as a gift.

Not money. No one said you will be rich, or even well off, or have a little to live with. If you have, be grateful, and share it with others less fortunate.

Not family. No one said you will have brothers or sisters, aunts uncles and cousins. If you hate them and can't stand being around them- be happy you have relatives to hate, as opposed to being alone in the world.

Not happiness. No one promised you will be happy all the time. So enjoy those fleeting moments of joy.

Not wisdom. No one said you will be born smart, or even have the ability to learn. So if you can, take advantage.

An extra scoop of ice cream is not a guarantee, nor packets of ketchup with your fries. You won't always be lucky to get 20% extra in a bottle, or a cap that says you win a free soda. Your ipod won't always work, your computer will crash someday, all on this earth may crumble, or disappear.

Not everyone will like you, you may have many an enemy in your life time. You won't necessarily grow old and wrinkled, or live to see many descendants. You won't always get lucky. Some day your luck will run out.

Nothing in this world is a guarantee. Least of all you or me. So why not enjoy what you have now, instead of wanting more?

Be thankful for what you have.

Happy holidays

I wanna wish everyone a great Yom Tov. My head's in so many places and I can't comprehend that tonight starts the week long holiday. Enjoy sitting in the sukkah, enjoy being at home (if that's where you are) and if anyone is in Crown Heights for the holidays and needs a place to eat, contact me. Or just walk around Crown Heights looking for a big yellow sukkah on my porch, good luck.

All the best, here's to health, happiness, and many blessings rained down upon us!

Lechaim!

The color pink

Apparently, I have Arab fans. Well, fine, they weren't looking for my blog, they just happened upon it, and they didn't stay for long, but still. Who can say that they have traffic from Arab countries on their blog?

I was checking my statistics, which I do occasionally. It helps boost my morale when I see how many people read my blog. And I saw 2 very interesting visits. One was from Jiddah, Makkah, Saudi Arabia. They found my blog through someone's profile, by blogs I follow, which is interesting in itself.

The second one was from Dubai, Dubai, United Arab Emirates. And they found my blog through google, I'll include the link. They googled the words 'what lays beneath' and found my post, 'what lies beneath the mask.'

So hey, the world is smaller then we think, and someday some Arab may be learning Torah on a blog, not really knowing what he's reading. Who knows.

On another note: my brother bought me a present. It was cancer awareness day at his work, and anything you buy, the proceeds goes towards cancer research. He got me a calculator and a pen, that says 'Every women counts'. At first I thought it meant me, as his sister, but then I realized it was referring to the cancer research program. Oh well. It's the thought that counts. I was very touched, it was so sweet of him to think of me. (And no, he doesn't read my blog, and doesn't know I'm writing about him, so this is purely for the sake of sentiments.)

It came with a credit card sized calendar, and on the back it has a nice quote. I'm a sucker for quotes, so here it is:

"Seize each new day with renewed strength. Believe in yourself. Go forward with courage and faith to face whatever tomorrow may bring."

Sounds like it came straight out of a self-help book. But it is true, and can be applied to everyone. And maybe today I'll even attempt to listen to it. There's a first for everything.

Sukkos!!!!!

It's....soooooo.....c-c-c-oooold!

Maybe Israel thinned out my blood, but when I woke up today to discover it was 59 degrees outside, I gasped. And then I gasped again when I got outside...

Short skirt, pantyhose, open shoes.... not enough protection, nooo. I think my toes froze.

It was so great to get out with friends. We went out to eat. Of course, we couldn't decide on a place to eat, so when we finally passed by the same place for like the 4th time (I do exaggerate) we decided to walk in there. It was fuuuuun... and more than I wanted to pay. But I never laughed so hard in my life. Thank G-d for friends... and waiters who can't accurately describe a piece of cake.

Ok I'll admit, we took pictures, but hey, I think the occasion called for it.

The sidewalks were swamped with people. Tables and trucks set up, selling lulavim and esrogim. The cutest was one of those plastic kiddy tables set up, where 3 cute little boys sat, they looked to be around 7-8, and they were selling those ring thingys that people use to bind the lulavim. I had the urge to buy from them just cuz they looked so cute... I guess everyone did, maybe that's why they actually made money.

There was such a fresh feeling in the air. Ya, besides the cold. It was like an excitement, that you can feel. Tangible. It made me giddy. Expectation. Anticipation. I just wanted to laugh out loud, or dance in the street. Sukkos is coming!

I remember when I was young... oh so young. I loved this time of year. Vacation from school, a new dress, sitting in the sukkah, steaming cups of hot cocoa mingling with the frost from my breath. Chilly weather, pulling on the warm coats, and gloves. No worries, or cares in the world.

I remember standing outside my house, having taken a bath, dressed in my new yom tov dress, so proud, at age 7. Watching my father building the sukkah, bang bang bang, and my big brothers helping. They all seemed so old and grown up to me. I loved sitting in the sukkah, because it was such a contrast to sitting inside the whole year. And it felt so cool to be sitting outside to eat. I imagined strangers passing by, wishing they got to sit in my sukkah.

Of course there was chol hamoade to look forward to. The trips we went on, as a family. And simchas bais hashuava... another whole topic on it's own. The people, sooo many of them. Trying to stick close to my older sister, and not get lost in the crush. My father giving me allotted spending money, and me being very careful to use it wisely. Which meant of course, cotton candy, sour sticks, and any other kind of candy that appealed to my eyes.

So happy to have a later curfew, loving the music, which was so loud I couldn't hear my own voice, and believe me, I tried. And wishing it would never, ever end, and dreading going back to school.

So many things are different now. Now, it's the younger siblings that build the sukkah, cuz my father is busy. (I am not gonna even THINK it might be cuz he's getting older.... no, parents are not supposed to get old.) I don't even offer to help, cuz I don't know how to build a sukkah, and my help isn't wanted.

Now that I'm older, and I'm not in school full time, the week before goes by in a blur, and I have to mentally remind myself that sukkos is coming. Oh ya. Maybe I'll go shopping, buy something new... chol homoade, not that exciting. When I was little the best part of it all was coming to school after, and swapping experiences, and what cool trips you went on. But now, I'm happy if I get out of the house at all... Now the feeling is kind of like, let's get this over with so we can get back to real life...

But tonight, in the busy streets of the Heights, I got a little whiff of that feeling again. That carefree, love-for-life and-everyone-in-it feeling, that everything is right, that this is a great time of year, that it's gonna be fun, and everything is gonna be just fine... It was so amazing.

Children have it so simple. But being an adult has it's benefits too.... hey, just realized, no curfew this year!!! Hello, simchas bais.... ooooh ya.....