For MEN: How women think. Be careful, this is dangerous stuff

A message to all men in the world: I hope you like dirt, cuz you're gonna spend your whole life groveling.

It kind of bothers me how women work. They ask their men questions that they clearly don't want to know the answer to, and are just setting their men up to get in trouble, and then the man subsequently has to grovel and buy the woman presents for the next week, and oh ya, sleep on the couch. Let's play out this scenario:

Woman: "Honey, what do you think of this dress? Does it make me look fat? I feel so fat. Do you think I'm fat and ugly? What if I get old and you leave me for another woman?"
(she's thinking, if you're gonna leave me at least let it be cuz your gay and like men.)

Man: "No dear, that dress looks nice on you. I think you're beautiful."

W: (Stone cold voice) "Thank you, that's very nice of you. That makes me feel real special."

M: (a few minutes later in which his wife is clearly ignoring him) honey, did I say something wrong?"

W: "Oh no, of course not. I'm not feeling well, I'm not going out tonight. Please go out and buy me ice cream. And don't bother talking to me, I'm gonna wash the dishes, I won't be able to hear you, so don't bother talking, okay?" (emphasise on the DON' TALK. But what she really means is, start talking your way out of this one buddy, or you're in t-r-o-u-b-l-e.)

M: (phew that was a close one, at least she let me off scott free tonight) Okay dear, I'm glad you don't feel fat anymore."

W: "you just called me fat?????"

M: (confused beyond words) "NO, I think you're beautiful, I told you that. I don't think you're fat, and really, who wants an anorexic wife anyway, right. No one should look like those super models, it's disgusting."

W: "I want to look like those super models. They are gorgeous."

M: " YOU are gorgeous."

W: "you blew it. You are sleeping on the couch tonight. Oh, and now you have to buy me that outrageously priced diamond necklace I really want, to make me feel better and prove you love me."

M: (what the heck did I say wrong?????) "Anything for you, my pretty wife."

W: "cut the crap."

Okay, I think I went a little overboard there, but you see what I mean. Women miscommunicate. When they ask, do you think I'm fat, what they really mean is, I'm feeling very insecure right now, nothing you say will make me feel better so save yourself, and don't try, but don't worry there's nothing you can do, you're gonna get in trouble anyway cuz I just need a whipping boy, but if you play things right I might only be mad at you for one day instead of three, but if you totally ignore me you are in the doghouse for a week, and if you say something neutral about how no one really looks like super models and movies are not reality, then you will get the silent treatment and the cold shoulder and boy are you in trouble.....

Now, can this scenario ever work the other way? If the man told his wife, "honey, does this suit make me look fat? Do you think I'm ugly? Are you gonna leave me for another guy?" Unless the wife suspects that her husband is gay, she'll probably just say, stop babbling and take out the garbage.

Obviously, no self respecting man would ever say that to his wife, or to any living soul, even if he felt that way. No, that line is reserved solely for women.

So really, men, there is no way around it. It's gonna happen, don't say I didn't warn you. Just grovel your way out, ride out the storm, and pray to G-d that you say the right thing.

This and that

So here's what this post was gonna be about:

I hate the fact that Lubavitch is known for always being late. It is such a cliche, that people make jokes about it. On wedding invitations it says, Chupa will be at 5:00. But everyone knows that it is a given that it won't start until at least 6:00. This annoys me to no end. Why should we be known as the Jews who are never on time? We stand up in front of the world, we represent something so big and monumental, we make functions and train leaders, and run such a huge operation, all under the guidance of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, and in his name it should be known that we are never on time?

It says 'A chossid darf zein a mesudar'. Loose translation, a chossid has to be a perfectionist. A chossid should strive to be better, to do things in the right way. To look like a mentch, be presentable, and behave properly, because he is not going out on his own. He is representing someone and something that is so much greater than himself.

So why the should it be a joke that we are never on time? I went to a lecture last week that was called to start at 7:30, and didn't start until 9. Fine, I didn't have that much better things to do with my time but still, it doesn't seem right to steal time from people who come on time, and those who don't, well that's not right either.

Okay, so that's what this post was supposed to be about. But then I realized a very important fact: I myself am never on time. When I tell someone I'll meet them at 7:30, usually that means I'll leave the house aroud 7:30. I have a problem with being on time, and I would rather be late then early. So why bother preaching about something in which you are not perfect?

Either way, you are all invited to my wedding (no, there's no news to tell, and I have no idea when it'll happen, but believe me when I tell you, dear readers, that you will probably be the first ones I'll tell.) And when it says on the invitation that Kabolas ponim will be at 5, and chuppa at 6, well I would really love if you came on time, or even early, but you will just be standing around for awhile waiting for everyone else to show up. So, um, come late? That's not a suggestion. I'm gonna start a trend for being early. Please come on time. And yes, it is a black dress event.

There were some funny things I was thinking about. When the delivery guy from UPS comes to the door with a package (we are best friends by now, my father is a big Ebay buyer, and we get multiple packages a day, I'm serious.) He hands me that big heavy thingy where you have to sign. And it's a joke every time, cuz my name barely comes out as chicken scratch (shout out to Mr. J, for all you Torontonians. He said my handwriting looked like his 9 year old nephews). Cuz the thingy is so weird that I don't know how they expect you to sign it, I always write off the line and then cant find my place again so its barely legible and leaves me wondering why they even bothered.

Then there's the pretty new bathroom mat that my sister bought, that she makes me hang over the tub every time after my shower, that makes me wish she never bought the *__* thing. I keep thinking, I should wash that, but then I never get aroud to it, and it's starting to look not so pretty. It reminds me of the song 'black socks they never get dirty, the longer you wear them the blacker they get, sometimes I think of the laundry but something inside me says don't wash them yet.' We used to sing that in class to annoy my teacher, back when I was a student of 12, and relished getting in trouble. And so the mat sits there, all alone, cuz no one will take care of it. Oh poor mat that had to end up in my bathroom....

Will someone please tell me what the weather is like outside? My thermostat tells me it is but 17 degrees Farinheit. But I don't know what that feels like since I haven't been outside in awhile.

On Shabbos I read the Meam Loez on Parshas Beshalach. I recommend it, they have some really good insights into the parsha.

In a week is Chof bais Shvat. Some of my friends will be in town. You know who you are. If you are gonna be in town but I don't know about it, please let me know so we can do brunch. Chow chow!

The house is quiet, I think it's safe to go to bed now. The time on my laptop is 11:44 PM Jan 30. Of course it is 3 hours behind, it does this weird thing every week and I can't figure out how to change it. The real time is 2:45 AM. I'm off to bed.

Gnite world!

You know you're growing up when...

You start doing things for yourself, or for the sake of the thing itself, instead of for a reward or worrying about pleasing other people. I davened today. Even though I knew there were people who were proud of me, I did it for ME. And for G-d. And it felt really good.

When your mother's friend comes to the house, and instead of thinking of her as 'that lady that always comes over', you see her as a friend of yours too. And you chat with her, and it's so nice to see her. She's older, yes, but in some sense she feels like an equal. Because I have changed, I'm almost a grown up now. (Noooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

I went to a farbrengin yesterday for Yud Shvat. That is a big accomplishment for me and I'm proud of myself and happy I went. It felt good. Really good. For once I felt like I BELONGED there. Like I was entitled to be there, and I wasn't just a fraud. It also felt good knowing that I didn't have to be there. I think all through high school I resented the requirement to learn. I had to go to class, and to farbrengins, etc. It was expected of us. So it wasn't coming from me. For once I went because I wanted to.

And I didn't fall asleep. And I didn't leave early. I stayed for 2 1/2 hours. There were a lot of young newly married girls there. They left early. They have husbands and maybe children waiting for them at home. And I kept eyeing the clock, wondering when it would be appropriate to leave, and then I realized, I can STAY. I don't have to rush home, I only have to worry about me right now, I don't have a family to take care of. It was refreshing and made me want to take advantage of the NOW. People always say, enjoy your time now, take advantage, cuz later you'll regret letting this time slip by. It hasn't really hit home until now.

So what was the farbrengin about, you want to know. Ya ya Altie, it's so nice that you went, that you had a breakthrough, that you feel so good about yourself and think you are a great person now, but did you actually LEARN anything there? Did you listen?

Yes, people. Don't worry, I listened. Rabbi Tzvi Freeman from Toronto spoke. He is a good speaker with a great sense of humor. He spoke about a few things and I'll tell you what I remember.

Hiskashrus- he asked, what is hiskashrus. Ya, it means being connected to the Rebbe, but what is it. It is physical, is it emotional, is it rote? He told a story to illustrate his point:

He lived in Vancouver, and every year by Yud Shvat the community held a raffle to send one person to New York to be by the Rebbe. He was lucky enough to win it three times in a row. The last time that he went, he wanted to give the Rebbe something, a gift. So he thought, what can I give the Rebbe, that won't take up too much of his time? He decided, when he goes online to get a dollar, he will smile at the Rebbe. And that's what he did. As he passed by the Rebbe, he gave him a big smile. And the Rebbe gave him a big smile back.

Rabbi Freeman said, that is hiskashrus. When you are going about your daily life, and you have an urge to be connected to the Rebbe. Hiskashrus is something that needs work, yes. But it is there Even the most fraye yid will still speak about the Rebbe with kavod, and love. Because hiskashrus is in the heart, it is unnatural.

He mentioned something interesting abour current events. (I don't actually follow current events, cuz I have no interest in it.) He spoke about the rescue teams that each country sent into Haiti, so help the survivors there. Out of all the countries, Israel, the smallest one sent the most people and most equipment to help. They flew there on a 16 hour flight, and spend 8 hours setting up a hospital with state of the art equipment. The American medical students who were in Haiti went to help the Israelis in the hospital. When asked why, they said, 'Cuz the Americans haven't brought anything, or set up a hospital, so we might as well go where help is needed.' And they said at that moment, they were almost embarrased to be American.

But his point was, that years ago this would not have happened. The world has progressed and matured enough that now they are quick to help another country in need, and hesitant to go to war. (Iraq.) The world is changing....

There was another really nice story he told. (I forget names, and details, so bare with me.)
There was a man named Hagar, in charge of a mission. The mission was to recover the files of all the Jews that were sent to Sibiria (and nevver returned) and return them to their families, so they can at least know what happened to them, and where they were burried.

One time, a former KGB officer who was in charge of 'Religious persecution' in Russia during the time of Stalin, sent word to Hagar that he wanted to meet with him. Hagar didn't really want o meet with a former KGB officer, so he asked the head shliach to Russia, berel Lazar, what to do, and berel told him to go, because he might be able to give Hagar valueble information about some files of people that were never found. So Hagar went to the government building, on a Friday.

The man he was supposed to meet with was across town in another government location, so they rushed Hagar over there. Hagar had 2 volumes of the shluchim book, and post-it notes by each picture of shluchim who's ancestors were in Sibiria. The second he walked into the KGB's office he put them on the table. The man started leafing through the pages. Then he turned to his secretary and said, 'They're smiling! Look at them! If I had known that despite all my efforts, they would have survived, and had children, and grandchildren, that are still religious today, I wouldn't have bothered.'

There was a second part to the story that I don't really remember. But I really liked that story cuz it just goes to show- try to kill us and wipe us out, and we will come back even stronger.

Okay if you are still reading this (why are you still reading this????) I have one more really nice story to share.

Rabbi Freeman brought out an interesting point. Most people who are in a position of power have followers, and their main goal is to get more followers, as many as they can. (He also asid, most famous people didn't really do anything worthwhile, the ones who really made a difference and SHOULD be famous, no one ever heard about, or knows their name.) When famous people donate money to charity, or do something good, they want people to know it was THEM doing it. They want acknowledgement, and honor.

The Rebbe was the total opposite. He wasnted to mikarev yidden, bring them closer to Torah, nor specifically to Chabad. Once there was a man who ran the Hillel house on campus in a college in England. He spoke to the Rebbe and the Rebbe asked him if the Jewish students there have access to kosher food. The man said, the Hillel ouse is under construction and wasn't gonna be ready for another few months, so in the meantime no, there was no kosher food available on campus, unless the student went to a kosher resteraunt nearby. The Rebbe asked him, so for 5 months it's okay to eat not kosher? He told the man to set up centers around the campus that had kosher food available to any Jewish student who wanted it.

The man got into the hang of things and started thinking and planning, that they would run events there, and have Torah classes, besides for kosher food. And the Rebbe said no, that's not what I told you. I want there to be kosher food, so that a Jewish boy, should sit down next to a Jewish girl, and eat kosher food, so that one day they will get married.

The point is not 'Come to Chabad, we are the best, you must follow us!! Hear hear!'. The point is, learn Torah, serve G-d, do mitzvot, be a good Jew. If they become Chabad, that's a bonus.

I think I left you with enough stuff to think about. It was a good farbrengin. Happy Yud Aleph Shvat everyone. Do something good to change the world. It's not as hard as you think. Believe me.

Today is yud shvat

Today is yud shvat.

So what?

How can you say so what? What do you mean, so what? Don't you know what a special day it is? Don't you feel anything? Aren't you gonna do anything about it? So, are you going to a farbrengin?

No, they are always long and boring, and I can never understand any of it once they start speaking in yiddish and hebrew.

What? How can you not go to a farbrengin? What do you mean? So, what, you're just not gonna do anything about it? You're gonna go to work and it's gonna be a regular day?

No, I'm gonna light a yartzeit candle.

Sometimes I don't understand. How can you not care? How can you not do anything, feel anything, write a pan, go to the ohel, make hachlatas, join a farbrengin? How can you let this day go by, like it is any other day? It's not.

What is yud shvat, you ask me.

I don't know. I honestly don't know. I can tell you what happened on that day. The previous lubavitcher Rebbe passed away, and the same day, a year later, our Rebbe took over the leadership. He said the maamer (chassidic discourse) of Baasi legani, which by itself needs a whole explanation. And his leadership began. And goes on until today.

I know the facts, yes I do. I've been in school long enough to be taught about it year after year. The same booklet that we got to color, with stories about each of the Rabeim in lubavitch. And a picture of seven men, each standing on the others shoulders, representing how we are the seventh generation.

Maybe then it all made sense. Or maybe the mind of a child didn't even know to ask questions. It just seems somewhere along the way, things fell apart. There was confusion, and doubts, and questions. But not actual questions that have answers. Just big question marks in my mind.

Then again, maybe this is the time to have kabalas ol. Just accept things without questions, as they say. That's what children do. They just accept things. It's the adults who over think, and over complicate things.

But there is something there. The heart, as they say. That has never stopped feeling. Year after year, it beats. It whispers, it talks. It lets me know that today is a special day. Don't let it pass by. Do something, anything. Or at least think about it.

It has never let up. It is the heart that makes me feel guilty, and regret things I do. It is the heart that makes me wish I was a better person. It is the heart that cares about things that my brain won't think about. It is the heart that tells me I can be a better person, when I feel like I'm down in the gutters.

It is the heart that has never given up on me, when I've given up on myself.

I went to a really chassidish high school. That is what I attribute my conscience to. In that school, no chassidish date or yom tov passed without acknowledgement. A farbrengin, a speaker, a program. They gave you everything you needed to learn and grow. All you had to do was stretch out your hand, and take it. I regret to say that I wasted time there, and didn't take all that was offered to me. Some, but not all.

But that doesn't matter. No point crying over days gone by. The point is, they made me who I am today. They made me into a person that no matter what I look like on the outside, no matter what my actions are, or how far I can stray from the right path, my heart will always beat, and remind me of who I am.

Today is yud shvat. I'm not really sure what it's all about. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do for it. I wish I knew. I wish I was ready to teach others about it, but I'm just learning myself.

It is easier for me to push others to do things, to be confused when they let this day pass, and do nothing about it. But on myself, I'm not so harsh. I have to go daven, maybe write a pan, and I promised someone I would go join a farbrengin tonight. Little steps, little steps, and sometimes I feel like I'm going nowhere. But as they say, you can't run until you can walk, right?

I learned a sicha yesterday with my friend. To be able to say that sounds foreign even to me. And I actually enjoyed it and thought, wow, this is not so bad, I can do this, I guess I haven't forgotten how to learn. Iy''h it will become a regular thing. And I'm proud of me.

Mushkie once asked me to share my story about my yud shvat four years ago. I would, but I don't think anyone would gain from hearing it, so that story will remain undisclosed. It is not a story I am proud of.

If you care, and if you have a heart like mine that beats and says 'do something good', then don't let today pass like any other day. Do something good. Light a candle, write a letter to the Rebbe, give charity, do someone a favor, smile. Something. Anything.

Show G-d that we are ready and it is time. This will be the last yud shvat in golus, and next year we will farbreng in 770, with our beloved Rebbe.

When I grow up

Ok ok ok ok ok. Ask me what I want to be when I grow up. I finally know what I want to be.

I want to be a balebusta!!!

She walked into my house and before I could give her a kiss and say hello she said, I'm starving, I came here for lunch. So I opened the fridge, and there was a ready made salad left over from yesterday that wasn't dressed yet. I prepared that for her, made her a tea, asked her if she wanted a sandwich. I even made her a goody bag to go. And sat down and talked to her as I was cutting up carrots and onions for the soup I was making.

I know that I helped her, and prepared lunch for her. But she helped me too. It felt so good to know that she was comfortable to walk into my house and ask for food. She made me feel needed. I love helping people, and making food. There's a certain accomplishment knowing that someone else is satisfied.

I want to have a home where my doors are always open. I want to be known as a person that is easygoing, that will help you out when you need something, and not make you feel like I'm doing you a favor. I want to be the person who has cakes and cookies in the freezer, ready to be taken out at any second, and given to someone who needs a hot drink and a listening ear. I want to have meals prepared that can feed an army, and be ready to serve anyone who walks in my door. I want to have room at my table for anyone who needs a place. I want to say to someone 'if there's room in the heart, there's room at the table.' And I want to have lots of room in my heart.

I want to have a home where there are always people and strangers passing through, where they can sit down for dessert and a vort of torah. I want people to feel like my home is their home too. I want people to be comfortable there.

These are things I have to work on, and strive towards. But now I have a goal. I know what I want to be when I grow up. First and foremost, I want to build a home, and be the balebust.

Untitled

Never say good-bye because saying good-bye means going away,
and going away means forgetting.

~ Peter Pan


"Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again after a moment or lifetime is certain for those who are friends."

--Richard David Bach


Why does it take a minute to say hello and forever to say goodbye?

~Author Unknown


Ends and beginnings - there are no such things.
There are only middles.

-Robert Frost

A place I once called home

It seemed much smaller than I remembered. It was also dark and quiet. I don't remember ever being there after dark. No, that late at night I was safely tucked away in my bed. It was weird. I was standing there and it suddenly hit me- this is a part of my childhood.

Here's where I first learned how to ride a bike, and scraped my knees. Here's where we would throw stuff on top of the garage, and then climb up to get it. Here's where we played cops and robbers, around the house, tap to freedom, and all our other childish games. A mimsies a clappsies, r-a-t-t-l-e spells rattle snake. Here's where we played ball. Here's where I fought with my friends, and pulled her hair, and had mine yanked in return. Here's where I laughed, and cried, and got scared.

I remember when a scary neighbor kid threatened to come beat us up, and we all ran into our houses and locked the door. Even the older kids. And it was during the day. I remember when my older sister and her friends would come join us in our games, and how special that made me feel, like we were validated somehow, because the big kids were giving us attention.

Here's where my brothers built an igloo, and scared the neighbors. Here's where my sister broke 3 fingers while playing ball. Here's where we pulled off the tape from the neighbor's hopscotch, and got bullied by them and all their 70 cousins. Here's where we threw water balloons, played elimination, stepped on nails and thought I got metal poisoning in my foot. Here's where we played squash sardines.

Here's where I grew up. It's dark out, but in my minds eye I can see the ghosts of the past. I see the little girl I used to be running, and playing, and enjoying life as a 5 year old. I thought I lost her. I thought I grew up and she was gone forever. But no, she was right here all along, waiting to be remembered, waiting for me to take a trip down memory lane.

The house I used to live in, and where I spent my main growing up years as a child is no longer there. Our house was old and broken down and crappy. In it's place stands a beautiful mansion. It's not my house, no, cuz my house held memories, but these walls are cold. The tree where I used to climb is gone. We would sit up in the branches and spy on people. We could see all the way to the corner.

We would dig in my front garden. One year when it snowed we dug a tunnel in the snow. We planted apple seeds, thinking they would grow into an apple tree, but they never did. Oh how young and naive we were.

My front steps where I stood erev sukkos, all fresh and clean, and dressed in my new yom tov clothing, that's gone forever. The ugly red stairs going up to my house, which always had peeling paint, that's gone too. The house, the place that held so many memories, it doesn't exist anymore. And it makes me sad.

But as I stand here in my old backyard, and I am suddenly flooded with memories, I know it will never really be gone. I thought I forgot. I thought I moved on. But you can't move on from a part of your life, the very most important part, the beginning.

I wonder if my old neighbors remember everything like I do. Or if they even care. I wish I had someone to reminisce with, someone who was there with me. But they are all grown up. I don't even know them anymore. But we shared a childhood, and that can never be erased.

I left. The backyard doesn't look like I remembered it. It's much smaller. Or maybe it just seemed so much bigger to a small child of 5. But either way, now I know. I know I'll never forget it. Cuz all my memories are in a place where I can return to whenever I want. In my heart.

Goodbye backyard. Thanks for reminding me of the good times.

What I like to do

Someone asked me what I like to do for fun, and I thought, I have no idea. But that didn't sound like agood answer. So I came up with a list. Hey, I actually like to do stuff!!

What I like to do for fun/ chillllll
-Watch TV/ movies; go to the movies
-Take a walk/drive
-Go to Manhattan, or some other big busy place
-Take a walk in the park; go to the beach, anywhere with water. Love streams and lakes
-Read (not all the time though.)
-Paint
-Ice skate
-Bike riding, rollerblading, occasionally
-Write
-Walking or running, breaking a sweat (exercise)
-Listen to music
-Hang out with friends (which usually involved hookah, bars, or just sitting around chilling, talking.)
-Arcades, amusement parks (but NOT roller coasters), ping pong, (but NOT pool, I can't play that), air hockey, I'm really good at that.
-extreme dance machine. Never actually played it, but it looks really cool, I'd like to try it
-Boating, ferries, but NOT kayaks or rowboats
-Sit in Starbucks. I LOVE their couches there, and the ambiance
-Frisbees. Hopscotch. Play on a kids jungle gym. It's fun
-Going on the swings
-Basketball, though I suck at it
-Love to cook and create stuff
-Love to boss people around, run an event
-Enjoy watching kids, in classroom setting or casual. Taking them places and making them happy
-Build stuff, do arts n crafts. But I have no patience for coloring in the lines
-People watching
-I actually enjoy cleaning for fun. It is very satisfying to clean stuff. Let's off steam
-Set stuff on fire. Fire is cool and pretty. I like bonfires/campfires
-Love walking dogs, though I don't have a dog and probably never will. But of all the animals, they are the most fun and friendly
-Ohhhhhhhh I almost forgot- I LOVE to shop. Especially when I have money to spend. The smell of new clothes is intoxicating, and I get a high from walking out of the store with new purchases. It's almost as good as chocolate.
-Love watching sunrise or sunset. Whichever one I’m awake for.
-Love playing solitaire

What I do NOT like to do
-I do NOT like to learn for fun. Learning is something I associate with school, which gives me the creeps just to think about it. I am still in that stage where learning equals torture of the mind, and I have not grown up enough to reach the stage where learning is fun and enjoyable, and done for pleasure. So no, learning is NOT on this list.
-I do NOT like to knit, crochet, sew, or do needlepoint. Those things are for old people, or extremely bored souls, of which I am neither. Yet.
-I do NOT like museums, specifically not art or history museums. I find them extremely boring
-I do NOT like theaters or opera
-I do NOT enjoy swimming, but enjoy lounging in or around the pool
-I do NOT like to garden. That's boring. If things grow by themselves, cool, if not, who cares.
-I do NOT like to watch sports,(besides for MAYBE hockey) hear about it at all. I think it's a guy thing, and it's stupid and pointless
-I hate fish (in fish tanks). Just saying, I would never want to own fish. They are boring as hell. And cats. They are mean obnoxious unfriendly creatures. Can't stand them.

What I would LIKE to try
-Would like to try skateboarding
-Ride a motorcycle
-Get piss drunk
-Break a record
-Learn a musical instrument
-Write a book
-Hot wire a car
-Bungee jumping; sky diving, just for the thrill
-Hot air balloon
-Fly a plane
-Dye my hair
-Go to a shooting range
-Go fishing
-Skiing, snow tubing, any kind of mountain sports
-Get a tattoo (not really, just have to include that, like all the other degenerate teenagers)
-Act in a movie
-Go to a hockey game
-One day I want to own an inn, on an island near a lighthouse. It's gonna be really pretty, and I'm gonna run the place, and cook, and everything. It'll be awesome.
-Buy a boat
-Become an inspirational speaker. Don't know yet what I'll talk about, but I'll inspire people
-Get an empty room, and paint the walls however I want. Splatter it with paint. That's cool
-Do graffiti on the side of a building
-Throw dollar bills off the Empire state building, and watch them float in the breeze. Then laugh when people scramble to pick them up
-Build a sculpture out of diet coke cans, and submit it to a museum of Cool Stuff
-Go scuba diving, and check out a ship wreck
-Build a tree house
-Be part of an improv everywhere (random acting or dancing in a public place.)
-Gamble; go to a casino, go to Vegas.
-Take a road trip. Maybe to California
-Swim with dolphins

In conclusion to this little experiment, I have decided that I was right all along- I am at heart a loner. I enjoy my own company. I can't stand socializing with idiots. At times, people annoy me immensely, and I question why G-d made me a part of this bizarre race called humans. Sometimes I enjoy spending time with my friends, and sometimes I can't stand even them. (P.S.- No no no no, I LOVE you guys!!! I didn't mean that!!!!) Sometimes I like to be alone, and go places by myself. I like to shop alone which some females find appalling. But yes, I am confident enough that I am able to make purchases without another female voice squealing over how good it looks on me. I KNOW it looks good on me, thank you.

Though some people might think that being a loner is a negative thing, or that I am a boring person, I think those people are stupid, and they should go to (blank). Plus, I don't really care what people think. I like myself.

Though this may sound very much like I am trying to convince people, or even myself, that I am an awesome person, make no mistakes- I AM an awesome person, I already know that, and I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything, besides maybe convincing idiots to stop talking, and just look pretty.

Tiredness state of mind

There is something rather reluctant about goodbyes. Goodbyes are endings. Endings are lost opportunities. Or new beginnings? I don't like goodbyes. Or endings. There is something sad about the final act. When the show winds down and the curtain is about to close, and you know it is almost over, and then that's it. And then you think, now what? And you freeze in place. You can't go back, but is there really somewhere to move forward to?

I hate the endings of movies. And TV shows. When you are almost at the last episode, and you are not quite sure HOW it is going to end, only that it will, somehow. And you want to prolong it for as long as you can, until you feel ready to say goodbye, and move on. But you feel like you will never be ready. And that is the scariest part.

There is something about admitting feelings to myself, and even more so, to others, that scares the heck out of me. That is another ending. Once it's done, it's done. Either the feelings will be reciprocated, and you will start a new reality, or they won't, and that will be it. The end, Goodbye. I hate goodbyes. I hate endings, you know that already.

There is something so hard about trying. When you are a defeatist, and you give up before you have actually tried. When you prepare yourself for failure, and get ready for disappointment, before you have taken a chance. If you don't try, you will never know. But maybe not knowing is better, if the knowledge will bring with it pain? But then again, what is life without pain? Is there anyone who has gone through life and actually lived, really lived, and not experienced pain? I doubt it.

Folding your arms is a protective gesture. Being on the defense. Guarding your heart before anyone can stomp on it. If you let people in you might get hurt. If you don't, you are sure to get hurt, cuz you will never actually experience life, and love. So which is better? Or worse?

I am so tired. So, so tired. My eyes are hurting. I was driving in the rain thinking, I really shouldn't be driving in the rain when I'm this tired. But I did anyway. And I love the rain. It is so pure and fresh. It washes everything away, and makes it feel like new. It calms, and it sympathizes, and it soothes. It is my friend. I like the rain.

Right now I don't want to feel. I want to go to sleep and forget about things until tomorrow. Then maybe I will think about it. Or not. We shall see.

It is almost the end. Not that big an ending, but still. I hate endings, big or small. They make me sad.

Gnite world. It'll all be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end. Here's to good endings, and even better beginnings.

A post for a friend

You know who you are. I promised you a post. Here goes:

Driving over the bridge at 8 am was glorious!! The sun was shining brilliantly on the water, there were boats floating along, and the best part was, I wasn't dreaming!!!

It feels good to be up at a normal hour, when people are out and about (or as they say it in Canada, oot and aboot.) Rather than being up all hours of the night, when it is dark and silent in the house.

Maybe I'll even make it an every day thing, instead of once in a blue moon. (Where did that expression come from? Is there even such a thing as blue moons??)

Hello 8 am. It's nice to see you again!

Kiddies times five

When I was a young student in grade school, I thought that teachers never went to the bathroom, and that they never ate. After all, they're teachers. That makes them only half human. But then I discovered that it wasn't true.

I found myself on the other end of the spectrum. Now I know why teachers don't eat in front of students. (Besides for one teacher I had who actually ate lunch with us. I watched her try to eat soup through perfectly lipsticked lips, and that's when I knew I never wanted to wear lipstick. It looked very difficult.) It makes the kids jealous. I tried to eat snack today in front of the kids. They wanted some. I guess everything is more desirable when a teacher is eating it.

I found myself in the land of the kiddies again. If you read this post, you'll remember the kids I taught last year for 3 days. This was the same group of kids. I substituted again. They haven't changed much. But it's funny to watch kids grow. I feel accomplished, like I actually taught them something. Made a difference.

They are cute kids. One girl gasps after every word she says, it makes me laugh. Her sentences end up coming out sounding something like: "Morah- but she- already- had a- tuuurn. And she- said- I couldn't- share!" It's funnier when you hear it.

Theres the leader of the pack, who won't listen and talks back. She's the kind of kid that the teachers describe as having a 'very strong personality' to say it in nice terms.

There's one boy in all the girls. He's nice and well behaved.

One girl that bursts into tears at the littlest thing. You need lots of patience with her. But she's cute.

And one girl who's an angel and lives in her own little world. Always smiling, and when the other kids aren't nice to her she doesn't even notice.

See- I can't be a teacher. Or a parent. It's only been 2 days and already I've categorized and labeled them, and even have a favorite. You're supposed to look at kids as 'little flowers with lots of room to grow', as I hear. Hmmmm.

Funny story- we were doing an arts n crafts using glue. I have fond memories of glue in school. We would spread a thin layer on our hands during class, then when it dried peel it off starting with a hole in the center and rolling it over and over so you end up with a glue bracelet. Or we would just have fun peeling it off. So I stupidly decided to do that. But I put to much on one hand and I wanted it to dry faster, so I rubbed both hands together. Now I had two gluey hands. Then I was waving them around and blowing on them to get them to dry faster, and I kept thinking, you idiot, what if one of the kids needs something, or theres an emergancy, and your hands are occupied? Anyway, it dried and i peeled it off and I learned my lesson- do not have fun with glue while taking care of kids.

One of the kids came in with her shoes on the wrong feet. classic case of 'look-at-me-i'm-a-big-girl-who-dresses-myself.' I gently pointed out her mistake, to which she said, 'it's okay, I don't care.'

And then during gym there's these big bins that they use to store the balls. So the kids turned them over and hid under them, then took turns pushing the bins with kids underneath. And then there was a moving bin all by itself. It looked quite funny.

All in all it was a very very exhausting but fulfilling 2 days. Besides for the part where I drove home and got lost and got back and hour later than schedule. Stupid unreliable GPS. But now I can do highway driving without my heart pounding. During the day at least.

Oh and the best part- during coloring time the kids have this thing where they all want to copy eachother. Then there's always the kid who's not nice and says certain kids can't copy her paper. I kept pointing out that a) you should be original and not copy someone elses drawing, which they didn't buy and b) copying is the highest form of flattery. To which one kid answered 'ya but if she doesn't want anyone to copy her, then it's not nice.' I finally got fed up and said, 'okay Morah will color the paper, and you could copy me.' That made the kid happy. Then I told her, you color your picture by yourself and I will copy you. She liked that even better. Until all the kids got it in their heads that they wanted morah to copy them. But my paper was all colored. Oh well.

Wow coloring was fun. And as I told the kids, you don't have to color in the lines cuz we're cutting it out anyway. The truth is, I have no patience for lines. Or coloring.

Kids. They are a funny bunch.

Please G-d, just today

Please G-d, if you won't give me tomorrow, then at least let me have today.

Make it a good day. An awesome day. Please G-d, just today.

If I won't see another sunrise, or another thunderstorm, if I won't feel the snowflakes on my bare skin tomorrow, then please G-d, at least today.

If I won't hear another laugh, or see another smile, if I won't hear your voice tomorrow, then please G-d, at least today.

Make it a good day. An awesome day. Please G-d, just today.

I'm not asking for much. Just let me have these moments. Let me have these memories.

One more drive, one more text, one more phone call. One more hug, one more moment, one more smile. One more day.

If not tomorrow, then please G-d, at least today.

Make it a good day. An awesome day. Please G-d, just today.

An 'awwww' moment

I was lamenting over the fact that I don't own a pair of Crocs, when most members of my family do, and that the inconvenience of not owning Crocs causes me to either walk around the house in flip flops (sometimes with socks, to make it more tznius), or with just socks, which equals more laundry.

I tried borrowing my sister's pair, but she wasn't too happy about that. (Especially because our definitions of the word 'borrow' differs from each other)

My little brother (who's 12) chivalrously tried to lend me his, but I politely declined, cuz I felt bad.

Then he asked me, casually, "Altie, what size shoe do you wear?"
And I was thinking, awwwww that's so sweet of him, he wants to buy me Crocs. I told him he didn't have to, but he said, I know, just tell me what size you wear, I wanna know.

So I told him. Don't know if he will remember, or actually go ahead and use his meager funds to buy me a pair, but I find it extremely sweet.

Forever

Forever is a long time.

Forever can be a day.

Or an hour.

Or a minute.

What matters is HOW you use that time, to make it last.

Make each moment of your life a moment to remember, forever.

I want my forever to last a lifetime.

To Pesha Leah

Tell me, did it hurt? Was it painful? Was there really a bright light at the end of the tunnel, like they describe in the books? Was your relatives who have passed away waiting for you? What was it like?

Were you afraid? Or scared, or even sad? Did you regret not getting the chance to say goodbye? Do you even now long to be back here?

One day. One night. That's all. Now everything changed.

I don't know you, but I saw your picture. I recognize you, we were in the same 'system', and I've seen you around before. You were in my sister's class.

It is weird to look at a picture of you and think that you are no longer here. Somehow I don't understand. Where did you go? Is there really a place called heaven? Did you see any angels? Are you ever going to come back to tell us how it was?

I'm mad. I was driving on the highway today and I was nervous, because I'm not used to it. And there were drivers beeping at me when I swerved out of my lane. I wanted to cry. And I thought, what's your problem? Don't you see how nervous I am? Cut me some slack, I'm a new driver. And I was stressed, and I came home upset.

And then I found out. I don't know you, but my tears won't stop. And I don't know why you had to go. And I feel selfish for living, when you no longer can. Somehow it seems like your life was more important than mine. I don't know you, but in my mind you were a better person then me, and you deserved to live, cuz you were doing such a great job so far.

I know what they will say. You were a special soul, you completed your mission here, it was time for you to go. Now you are sitting by G-d's throne, you are surrounded by angels, it is good up there. Yes, I know all that, and more.

But there is now a husband without a wife, and the world is missing someone.

I don't understand it. Maybe I'll never understand it.

I just discovered your blog. Your poetry is beautiful. It was a sad feeling though. Like, now it is too late. I can go through the archives and read all your old stuff, but your bog will now sit there, drying up, frozen in time, last post dated Tuesday, January 5 2010, just one short day before you were taken. And it baffles me. It makes no sense.

First you were here, and now you're not, and you're never coming back??? I never had a chance to meet you, or befriend you on facebook. I just found you, your pictures are beautiful. And now that too will lay untouched, cuz no one will update your statuses now.

Please relay this message to G-d: We have suffered enough!!! We have cried too many tears! It is time to end this golus and send us Moshiach!!!!!! NOW!!!

Be safe, Pesha Leah. May all the angels be with you, and may you be granted a place right by G-d's throne, center stage.

And we will see you again very soon, very very soon.

Mothers bring the food

That's just what they do. If you ask me what a mother's job is I'll selfishly say 'to provide food. Duh.' Of course, they do so much more then that. But who can live without food? Right, no one.

'Ma, what's for dinner?'
'Ma, there's noooooo fooooood in the house!'
'Ma, I'm starving, what's there to eat?'
'I opened the fridge 3 times and there's nothing there I like!'

Mother's provide food. That's just what they do. That's why they go to the grocery store every day, and load up shopping carts full of food.

That's why before every trip, even a really short one, they make you sandwiches, and pack you a lunch.

That's why as you are running out the door to go help a friend they scream after you, 'but you didn't eat your soup!' And when you say, 'Ma, I'll eat it later', they say, 'But you'll be hungry!'
Rolling my eyes.

That's why they buy bags and bags of junk food, when they are going to visit son in yeshiva. Cuz obviously, they don't feed him there. He must be starving. And of course pop corn and chips will fill him up. Duh.

That's why they are always in the kitchen. And why they leave a note saying where dinner is when they are not gonna be home. And why they microwave pizza for you when you come home from school cuz they know you'll be staaaaaarving.

Mother's provide food. That's just what they do.

They make it look easy. I ask my mother, how did you make that? And she laughs and says, oh that? You mix up some ingredients, that's all. But somehow when I 'mix up some ingredients' it turns out all wrong.

If you asked me who made the supper I'd say, no one, it just appeared on the table. Cuz that's what it seems. But I know the truth.

Mother's provide food. Food= love. Lots of food= lots of ________. You do the math.

Cookies will be my downfall

UUUUUU (that's a sound that is very much like a sigh, like kind of wistful, kind of annoyed at the same time, it's hard to explain, you just have to hear it.)

Cookies. Oh sweet crunchy cookies. Soft chewy chocolaty chip ones, and hard crunchy granola ones. Sandwich cookies with cream inside, black and white creamy cookies, and the fake Jewish oreo cookies. Cookies covered in chocolate, double double fudge, you name it.

I try so hard to stay away from them, but they stare at me with their beady little eyes and say, 'eat me! Eat me!' And I take pity on them cuz they sound so pitiful.

Damn you cookies for getting the best of me.

Hey world, what's up?

"The sun is shining, the fish are dancing, hodu leHashem ki tov!!"

I'm happy and there's no reason why. Or, many causes to be happy.

I sang in the kitchen, when no one was there.

I made a really good soup.

I helped a friend move out of her apartment.

It's nice weather out today, fresh and crisp, not too cold, just the way I like it.

I got sleep last night and I feel well-rested.

I watched a really good movie (the Shawshank redemption, if you must know. A must see, by the way.)

The semester is almost over. Now I have some vacation.

I got an A on an essay I wrote, which is a really big accomplishment! The teacher is British, which in my opinion means she has no business teaching English in the United States. And she is stingy with her A's. Till now I only got B's. And when I said 'yay I got an A!' she said, really, you sure it's not an A-? Cuz apparently she doesn't give A's very often, but I, oh humble me, got one, and that is cause for celebration!!

I walked into the house and there was pizza waiting on the table. My mama had to go somewhere, but she made sure there was food to eat. That made me smile. I don't eat pizza, but that's okay.

World, smile with me, cuz there are many reasons to be happy!!!

Happy new years!

Tonight is New Years. Not our new years, of course, that was 3 months ago. Tonight is the goyish new year, and it symbolizes the end of and era, and the beginning of a new time. No more 2009, now it's 2010. The funny thing is, I've already been thinking of it as 2010 for awhile now. Much like you view yourself as a year older then you are as you approach your birthday. And then when it comes the new number seems natural, not new at all.

I wonder if people will refer to it as the year 'two thousand and ten' or 'twenty ten'. Interesting thought.

Tonight there will be swarms of people converging on Times Square. I was gonna be one of those people, but as it turns out, I'm home instead, nice warm and cozy, as it rains outside. I have to say, with all this talk about the ball dropping (no pun intended) it would have been cool to actually view it, after wondering about it for years, and never actually having seen it.

I have a mental image every year when it comes to new years. In the kids show 'Arthur' (one of my best childhood memories) the kids thought that there was a calendar police, and that at midnight on the dot they had to throw out their old calendars, and put up the new one. If they didn't do this the police would come. But they were kids, and so they fell asleep. And there was no calendar police after all.

I'm in a reflecting mood. Thoughtful. No, this holiday and celebration has no relevance or significance to me. But it is a change. And when something changes, things don't stay the same,. They are different. (That is like such a 'duh' moment.)

Only if you want to, pull out your party blower, and when the clock strikes midnight, give it a blow. There is a tradition to kiss someone at midnight. I will not be keeping that tradition this year, unless my mama's up, and cheek counts.

Look back at the past year, then look ahead, and don't look back again.

Happy new years, may it be a good one!

Frustrated

Here are my frustrations:

I hate judgmental people; I've just discovered that I'm judgemental. I.e, do I hate myself?

Scenario: a guy with dark skin, looks kind of Arabic, Persian, or possibly Israeli. Clean shaven, no kippa. He starts talking to me, asking me questions. Turns out he used to be religious. Now he's just, I'm not sure how you would catagorize it. May I interrupt myself to say that I hate labels as well.

He grew up religious. His family is traditional. He went to a religious school. He has ultra orthodox relatives. I never quite understood how he came to leave all that. But he tells me, I'm a good Jew. I give tzedaka, I don't steal, or kill, (ya, most of us too), I keep kosher, and shabbat, mostly, but I'm so damn bored so I watch tv, and use the computer, but that's it.

He asks me a lot of questions, questionsa that I can't answer, and that bothers me a lot. He asks me what is the difference between Chabad and other Jews. What is tanya. Why do the satmar ladies shave their heads. (I have to say to that I had no answer, not even remotely.) Why do women wear shaitels, if they are supposed to cover their hair, but shaitels look beautiful and are attractive.

I squirmed. I made up some answers. I got the feeling that he was more trying to challenge me then actually seek answers. But still, he was asking me, and I didn't know how to answer. Which made me wonder: did they actually teach this in school, how to know what to answer people when asked these kinds of questions, and I just blocked it out as I always did? Or did I waste 19 years of my life, 15 years of wich I spent in school, and learned absolutely nothing. Am I a shame to all my teachers? Ouch that hurt a bit.

If he is a good Jew, because he does all that he does, then how am I different then him? I won't ask better, I know that here is no better in Judaism. But what makes me different then him? Because I actually do keep shabbos? Or kashrus?

It's like a math equation that went wrong somewhere along the way, and now I just can't solve it. Frustrations are just so frustrating.

Dear God

Dear God,

Some days I just don't feel like smiling. It's not even like I wake up and say 'okay today I will be in a bad mood and I won't smile at all.' Sometimes it just comes. Like last week. I got lost on the way to somewhere I had to be. No one likes getting lost, least of all me. It was early in the morning, too early for me. I was cold, and pissed off. No, I did not tell myself 'don't worry Altie, everything is hashgacha pratis, there is a reason for this, trust in God'. Even though all that may have been true.

But I was annoyed. And mad. At the guy who gave me directions that were technically right, but because I don't know Manhattan enough they turned out wrong. At the MTA for taking my money for the metro card, and then not taking me to where I needed to go. At the bus driver who didn't refund me even though I barely went one stop and he told me I needed to go back the other way. At the lady who told me it was Broadway when it was clearly NOT Broadway. At the guy who wanted a dollar from me for a coffee in exchange for pointing me in the right direction, which I already knew anyway. At the weather, for being cold when I had to walk like 10 blocks!! At the ice that made me fall in front of a whole bunch of men.

The only good thing that happened in all of that was that I called my father for directions. He knows Manhattan like the back of his hand, and oh ya, theres a little tracking device in my phone, so all Daddy has to do is look my location up online and voila! He knows where I am. It can come in handy when I get lost, OR it can be detriment for me trying to sneak around without him knowing. (Like when I get home after hanging out with the peeps and he says, 'you're not allowed to go on a highway.' And I stare at him suspiciously thinking, how did he... oh ya.)

Well he helped me out. And I FINALLY (after about an hour later than I should have been) got on the right subway. And got to where I needed to go. I was NOT happy. I was NOT smiling. (Okay I did smile after I texted a friend who cheered me up. :)

I have some good days, and some bad ones. And even WITHIN those days, I have good moments, and bad. I do not promise to be Superwoman, and be happy all the time. Honestly, I think people that smile and are happy all the time are creepy, and weird. Everyone needs some moping time. Some more often then others.

Anyways God, I do have a point in all of this. (Thank you for your time, by the way. I know you must be super busy looking for the husband that my sister is missing at the moment, and those run-away wives that my brothers can't seem to find, plus making a flu vaccine, and tossing the economy just to give people something to talk about, and oh ya, that man we call the president, thank God for that, cuz otherwise people who have no lives would be bored out of their minds and have nothing else to talk about, seeing as how now all they say is 'oh Obama. Don't get me started...' And uhu.)

I can't promise to be happy all the time. I can't even promise to be happy MOST of the time. But I will try, at least a bit more than I do right now, and believe me for me that's HUGE. So take it.

Also, thank you for sending me those little things that make me happy, like an email from someone nice who cares about me, or a 50$ check in the mail, or even a sunny day. Maybe it's my JOB to be happy and find reasons to be happy, but when you send me the reason, it makes my job so much easier :)

So thank you for all the little things. I really do appreciate it, even though sometimes I sound very ungrateful.

Sincerely,

Altie

Happy fasting

I cry for all the kids in the world who haven't been tucked in at night,
and for the ones who went hungry today, not because it was a fast.

I cry for all the kids who are abused on a day to day basis,
by the very ones who are supposed to nurture them, and show love.

I cry for all the kids who are deprived of the words 'I love you'
and the ones who've never known a loving embrace.

I cry for the kids who cry themselves to sleep at night,
wondering if this was what they were brought down here for,
or if it ever gets better.

And then I drink a beer and drown myself in an alcohol induced stupor.
I go to lala land and everything is good and happy, for the moment at least.
I don't cry anymore, and frankly, I don't care about much.

See, crying needs a reason. 'Strong people don't cry.' That's false. It is the ones who cry who are strong for showing emotion. But still. You can't just cry because you are sad, no. So I cry and think of the neglected children, and the hobo's, and the poor people, and all the people that I read about in books but thank G-d have never met.

And believe me, if I could stomach a beer, I would drink. But I can't, it tastes too gross. And my 2 attempts at getting drunk have failed, I believe my body and mind is above that. So no alcohol induced stupor for me. Just the cold, harsh reality. And really, I'm not crying. Just thinking about it.

But I'm done. Now I'm gonna watch a funny show that makes you laugh despite whatever mood you're in. And I'm gonna while away the time until the fast is over. And maybe I'll put a coin into the tzedaka box, and give a thought or too to all the unfortunate people in the world. But that's all.

Happy fasting, everyone! Do one good thing today, and have in mind that this one thing may very well be the last one needed, the last 'brick in the bais hamikdash' that will help end this horrible golus, and bring Moshiach, not soon, not eventually, but right now!!!! Cuz I'm so sick of waiting!!!

Use your words boy!

Words have always been my friend. They have helped me express the things I was feeling and thinking, good or bad, happy or sad, thoughtful, or anything in between.

And now words have failed me. It's weird, but I think I'm just gonna stop talking now.

:(

There are so many bumper stickers on facebook that say exactly what I'm thinking, and feeling. But it all seems so fake. I want it to be MY words and MY thoughts on there, not someone elses.

She left. And she also left. They both left. Now I'm here all alone, and it's kind of sad. I know that in a few weeks it'll be easier to deal with, it will be better, it won't hurt as much. But they'll still be gone, you know? As much as you say, 'oh but they're only a phone call away', it'll never be the same.

They are my witnesses to what we got up to. Now who'll be there to verify that I didn't make up half the stuff I did? And who'll be there to hug me when it gets bad? And to laugh with, and cry with, and all that other stuff?

Hello world. This is me calling. I know you're out there. I'm sorry that I'm not my usual happy self right now. I'm sorry that I'm letting out all my emotions on you. I'm sorry that I'm sad. But what can I do?

I wish that I could sit there pouting until someone asks me what's wrong. Maybe I'll go to Manhattan and get one of those 'free hugs'. I can really use one right now.

It'll be okay, it'll be okay, I know. And when you ask me how I am and I say I'm fine, and then you tell me to stop BSing you cuz you know I'm not fine, what I really mean to say is, that I WILL be fine. I know I will.

Just right now I'm not, and that's okay.

Up for 25 hours straight, high on coffee

The world is so vibrant at 7 am.....

I don't like my GPS, so I'm gonna call it 'Stupid'.

Sunrise in the rear view mirror is really pretty, but keep your eyes on the road.

Piles of snow are not fun to drive over, especially going at a fast speed.

Highway driving at 5 am when it's still dark, especially your first time, can be really scary.

Coffee makes you very jittery.

Sleep sounds very good right now.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There was a guy on the subway today playing christmas songs on his instrument (perhaps a saxafone, not sure.) They were very catchy tunes, and I was trying not to hum along. I was saying tehillim for my friends father, who is having heart surgery tomorrow. (Please say tehillim for yehuda leib yitzchok ben rochel leah. kapital 54) It just seemed so wrong. That all these people were unaware of what was going on, that they didnt care that my friend's father is in the hospital. And I was the odd one out saying psalms in an anciant language, as modern christmas tunes played in the background.

One of the songs said 'he knows when you're awake, and he knows when you're asleep.' If I didn't know what it as talking about I might have assumed G-d.

Tonight was another friend's sisters wedding. I had to go. I had math class tonight, we had a test. Thank you to a certain someone who helpped me, even though it was wrong of me to ask. Get home from school, change into my new pretty black dress I just bought, trudge to the wedding. Say mazal tov, dance with my friends.

My other friend is leaving Wednesday night/ early thursday morning. Happy for one friend, sad for another, trying not to think about the 3rd one leaving. Another friend just came to town, went to see her.

All I wanna do is go to sleep, run away, hide in a little corner. So much happening at once, my mind can't take it all in. Too many emotions, I wish they would all go away.

Trudging through the snow at midnight, leaving the wedding, walking with my friend, worried about the other one. Don't want her to go, but shes going anyway. Wanna write a sad mushy goodbye poem, but I'm not going to.

I wanna scream, I wanna cry, but right now I havta go to sleep cuz I'm waking up at 6 am to sub for someone.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay I feel better now. Funny how a little key can let out a lot of emotions.

Gnite world.

Days not over yet...

He said to me, 'how you doin beautiful?' I checked the street, I was the only one around, he was talking to me. I smiled, cuz he was right. Thank you kind stranger who helpped boost my ego. You're sweet.

My snowy rambles

Its snowing! This time for real. I ventured out to go to the poetry slam, couldn't miss my 5 minutes of fame. People digging their cars out of the snowy graves, me running in the streets, giddy like a child, high on happiness, and this snowy wonder, like a fantasy world, a child's dream cuz it means no school, but I'm not in school so it shouldn't mean much to me, but it does. It means winters here, and its here to stay, for awhile at least. My hair is white like an old ladies, no hat on my head, stupid of me. My gloves do not keep my fingers cold. Scratch that. They keep them cold, not warm. I see 2 of my neighbors shoveling their steps, they challenge us to a snowball fight, I hit them a few times, they only got me once. And this is so GLORIOUS!! And I love that word, glorious, it is just so pretty, just like the world outside. Cuz the snow covers up all the bad, all the garbage, all the bleak and the black, and the ugly. Now its all even, its equal, its all pretty! The snow melts in my hair and drip drip drips down my face, and onto the table, and makes my make up run. Now I feel like I have brain freeze cuz those little bits of heaven hit my head and made me cold. That's what I hate, the cold. If it could be white without being cold it would be just perfect. But then it wouldn't be snow, it would be some generic brand of fake. Yes i know. And now would be the perfect time to go skating, if I had a pond, like in those movies, where they have a pond in their backyard. But alas I live in the city, I'm lucky if I even have a tree in my backyard let alone grass. And i love the freedom of snow, the freedom to run in the streets, the freedom to be like a child again, and not care about anything, other than what hot drink you will have when you decide that you are good and cold, and the fun must come to an end cuz your bed is waiting. Yes, the bed always awaits, like it does, when nightfall hits. But I know that all I have to do is open my eyes tomorrow morning, and that white white world will be waiting for me still. And it'll all begin again. I love the snow.

I believe

This article has been published in The Jewish Press

For thousands of years the world has held it's breath,
waiting for this moment in time,
waiting for you,
waiting for me.

I reach up to kiss the mezuza,
I don't know why.
I don't know much of anything,
but I know that I believe.

I believe, I believe, I believe.

No, they tell me, that's not enough.
You have to know. You have to learn.
So I learn, and I learn,
some things make no sense, but I listen anyway,
internalize, cuz they told me to. Maybe they know what I do not.

I don't know why I learn,
I don't know much of anything,
but I know that I believe.

I believe, I believe, I believe.

Still not enough, they tell me.
Now you have to tell the world. Spread the word.
So I do. I listen to them, cuz maybe they know more then me.
I say it nicely, I hand out pamphlets, and candles,
all the while wondering why I'm doing this.

I don't know why I do this.
I don't know much of anything,
but I know that I believe.

I believe, I believe, I believe.

No, not like that, they tell me.
You have to scream it, like you mean it.
But I do mean it.
So I scream. I scream in my heart, I scream to the world,
I do it cuz they told me to, and maybe they know more than me.

I don't know why I'm doing this,
I don't know much of anything,
but I know that I believe.

I believe, I believe, I believe.

Still not enough. It's never enough. It can't be enough.
You can't stop, can't let up, until it's over.
Until we have reached our goal.
They just keep saying it, keep saying it,
like they still mean it. Still smiling, still enthusiastic.
But I'm not so sure of it anymore.

I wanna scream. I wanna throw a glass into the fire,
and hear it shatter, like the sound my heart would make.
I wanna shout to the heavens, and hear the thunder rumble,
and see the lightening flash,
and feel the raindrops on my skin,
icy cold,
and know, that G-d is screaming too.

I wanna bang my fists on heaven's door,
and storm in there,
with the fury that I feel.
Cuz it's not enough. It never seems to be enough.
And the storm rages still.

And I don't know what more there is to do.
I don't know what G-d could possibly want from us,
that He holds it back, this one thing which we need.
And the frustration consumes me.

I don't know much of anything.
But I know, that despite it all, I still believe.
Not because they told me to.
But because in my heart, I know the truth.

And I whisper, as the storm reaches a crescendo,
Ani maamin.
I believe, I believe, I believe.

I'm in love

Makes my heart beat faster.
Forbidden.
Soft and sweet.
Smells like heaven.
Golden brown, and crumbly.

Bite into it,
melt in mouth,
like little bits of sunshine.
makes me happy,
live in the moment.

I'm in love
with a donut!!!

Or, as someone so kindly pointed out to me,
"you dont love diet coke. you love yourself. Therefore based on the way diet coke makes you feel you harbor emotions in relation to it." (Fill in 'donut' for diet coke'.) Okay ya, I also love diet coke. But if I was gonna be politically correct, (which I have no interest in) I'd say I love the way donuts make me feel. Which isn't a true statement. See.

But this donut is to die for. It's called an old fashioned donut, procured at Weies's bakery in Boro Park. Tell them I referred you, maybe you'll get a discount.

(I'd provide a picture, but the evidence is gone.)

Freilechin Chanuka!! I just love saying that, I'll abuse it until it's over. Oh, happy Rosh Chodesh too! Soon it'll be Hey Teves, the Didan Netzach day!

Here's to donuts, and throwing diets out the window until further notice!

Unlimited lifeline

It's brilliant! You know the game 'Who wants to be a millionaire'? (It sounds waaaaaay better in Regis Philbin's rich barritone) The player has several lifelines. Phone a friend, ask the audience, eliminate 2 choices. But after you use up the lifeline, you don't get anymore. Fair? I think not.

What if in life you had unlimited lifelines? You do me a favor, and now I'm indebted to you. I do you a favor, and now you are in my debt. Life is a game of give and take, debts and payback.

But wouldn't it be nice if it didn't work that way? If favors recharged on their own? I'm writing an English essay for school. I need help. Anyone want to write it for me?

Unlimited lifeline. Like those candy bar machines, where after you purchase something, and it drops down into that black black hole, another candy bar pops out. Voila! It just keeps coming. Where you can always ask for help and not feel like you owe something, or that you are obligated to give back.

Awesome.

5th night

I got money tonight. That's the highlight of Chanuka.

And I skipped class and chilled with friends.

A frelechin Chanuka to all of you! Here's to making it real, wherever you are!

4th night

Be like that little flame, and flicker in the face of darkness.

Be strong, it won't be long.

Gifts and trees (3rd night)

I just wrapped a whole bunch of presents, in, get this, sesame street wrapping paper, with colorful bows on top. Yes, they look really nice. And the irony struck me that this is exactly what the goyim do for Christmas, and then it struck me even harder when I placed them next to a miniature Christmas tree as a joke.

I'm having a family Chanukah party tomorrow, and I prepared gifts for a grabbag. It's supposed to be cute, nothing expensive, just chatchkelach like hand sanitizer, toe socks, a lint roller, pringles, markers, etc etc, you get my drift. Cute funny prizes.

Someone pointed out to me that Jews are not supposed to give presents on Chanuka. I'm not sure if that's true, and I'd like to see a source if there is one and anyone knows of it. I know we give money on the 5th night, believe me, I look forward to that tradition every year. That's when my father happily hands me money, and it's rightfully mine, as opposed to all the other times I use his credit card for things I need, and convince myself that he'll be okay with it.

Where do we draw the line though? Where's the line between funny and cute, like when I admire the Christmas lights and decorations, and being kofer batorah, like when I sing a Christmas carol cuz I like how it sounds, or pose by a Christmas tree, or even, gasp! say the word Christmas, instead of X-mas, cratsmach, or any other funny word that people use to avoid saying yoshkes name.

Chanukah is such a big holiday. It has so much light, and so much meaning. It should be special and separate, and holy, and a time to publicize, and learn, and grow, and be happy, and smile, and iceskate. And eat donuts and latkes and chocolate coins and play dreidel and light the menorah and spend time with family and laugh and love and learn and keep talking like this run-on sentance until you are so out of breath and you are ready to collapse just like your dreidel.

On a separate note: ever heard of drunk dreidel? I have presonally never played it, I haven't even played dreidel yet this year, but I do want to try it. Sounds like fun, even though I know that drinking isn't very chassidish for a Jewish maidel. Hello? Ever heard of orange juice?

Okay well I'm not a tree hugger, and I don't say yoshkes name, unless I'm talking about J-lovers, and how theyre wrong. And no, I don't really sing Christmas carols, unless they are playing in the mall, and I happen to sing along, don't ask me how I know the words. And G-d forbid will I buy a Christmas tree, besides the small one I bought for a dollar as a joke.

I'm a Jew, I'm a good Jew.

Happy Chanuka, I'm making donuts tomorrow!!! Any special orders need to be requested in advance. Other than that, anyone who wants a free donut and some good holiday cheer is welcome.

Raise your cup, say lechaim, and drink it dooooooown!!!

chanukah monologue (2nd night)

You might think I'd give over a sicha, in honor of chanukah,
but I'm not gonna talk about that, in my monologue.

Maybe I'd tell you about my boring shabbos, and how long I slept,
but I'm not gonna talk about that, in my monologue.

I'd speak about the menorah, and it's meaning and importance,
but I don't feel like talking about that, in my monologue.

I have to be so careful not to blow out the candles every time I leave the house,
but I'm not gonna talk about that, in my monologue.

my mama made greacy latkes, and bought over a dozen donuts,
but who wants to talk about that, in my monologue.

I'd tell you about the movie I saw, and how it freaked me out and I really didn't like it,
but I'm not gonna talk about that, in my monologue.

I feel like having a good cry, but I'd equally laugh as hard if I found something worth laughing at,
but I'm not gonna talk about feelings, in my monologue.

I can't believe it's chanukah, as I do every year, and then it passes so fast and then its over and I missed out,
but I'm not gonna mention that, in my monologue.

I have so much to say, and so much to tell you,
but I'm not gonna say any of it, in my monologue.

(If the name Taylor Swift rings a bell, then you are correct for thinking that. And no I don't have security guards. But I didn't say lalala hahaha, plus, she didn't say anything about Chanukah. )

If this was a diary, I would reveal so much more, but alas, 'tis not. So that's all for tnite folks. Plus, if it was a diary, I'd start off, dear diary...

Okay, let's try again:

Dear Lucy...

(that's as far as I got. gnite.)

Happy Hanukkah!

Check this out. An awesome video.

Of course, like all Jewish songs, (or most of them. or a lot of them.) the tune is taken from a song called 'hey ya' by a non Jewish band called 'Outkast.'But that seems to be irrelevant. Enjoy the video.

Here's to latkes and donuts, chanuka gelt and chocolate coins, lots and lots of oily foods, dreidel, menorah lighting, and of course, the miracle of chanukah, the festival of lights.

8 days, my friends. 8 days.

How chassidish are you

1) What shape are you?
a. circle
b. square
c. triangle

2) What color are you?
a. red
b. orange
c. green

3) How chassidish are you?
a. ultra
b. moderate
c. not at all

4) What word best defines you?
a. holy/ spiritual
b. learned
c. curious

Why would you let people define you? When someone asks me, 'so is she chassidish'? I think of a box. I hate the idea of putting someone in a box, labeling them.

I like the color green. And orange. I like to hang out with friends, and have a good time. I like to read books, and watch an occasional movie.

Do you drink? Do you hang out with guys? Do you wear a kippa? Does your skirt cover your knees?

Does it matter?

I am well aware that being chassidish goes hand in hand with simple basic halacha, and torah. But don't try to define me. Don't try to put me in a box, with all the other lumps.

In my opinion, the only one that matters is G-d. I will answer to Him at the end of the day. Not you, or you, or you.

Labels are stupid and misleading. So let me tell you this:

My name is Altie. I am not chassidish. I am a good Jew, who loves G-d, and tries to do what He wants. If I occasionally err, (or more than that) that is between Him and me.

My relationship with the Rebbe is my business, not yours.

And stop trying to label me, cuz all you are doing is limiting me. And I hate that.

Be who you want to be. Don't be who someone else thinks you should be.

For math geeks

Easy:
2X=24

Harder:
3X+4X-10=35

Hardest:
7X²+3X+5-2X²=18

Oh but don't worry, it'll get harder.

That's like saying 2+2 is easy, 2x2 is hard, and 2/2 is harder. Really?

I hate slow people. (poo poo poo I didn't mean that.)

On Ahavas yisroel, and fish

Behashgacha pratis, I heard part of a farbrengin on the auspicious day of yud tes kislev. I will tell you about what I remember.

Rabbi Jacobson was talking about the concept of kiddush, and seudah. (The blessing over the cup of wine, and the actual meal, on Shabbos.) The word kiddush comes from Kadosh, meaning holy, or sanctity. First we must sanctify, and then we can have the physical meal. They must come hand in hand.

But unfortunately, some Jews distort the meaning of holy. They forget G-d, the second they are done with kiddush. When it comes to the physical aspect of yidishkeit, they are kalt, and forget the basic principle of 'veahavta leraiacha kamocha'.

A story:

There was once a rich miser. (Isn't that how all stories start off). He didn't want to share his fortune with anyone. One time, a beggar came knocking at his door. The man was starving, and hadn't eaten in days. He begged the miser for a little bit of food to satisfy his hunger. The miser refused saying, go down the road to Chabad, they can help you. (Okay, Rabbi Jacobson said chabad, but it could have been any Jewish shul or whatever. The point was, he didn't want to help a Jew out.)

The beggar said, I'm too weak, if I try to move, I will surely die. Maybe you have some leftover food in the garbage that I can have, please, he begged weakly. Oh, the garbage, thought the miser. Sure, why not. And he gave him a piece of salty smelly fish that was in the garbage for awhile. The man hungrily ate it, and then turned to leave.

Of course, he collapsed, and was taken to the hospital. (Or whatever they had in whichever time this occurred.)

The miser came home and said to his wife, I have a mitzvah to do! Remember our guest, the one I gave food to? He fell ill. Now I can do the mitzvah of bikkur cholim, visiting the sick. So happily he went, to the hospital.

The next day the miser said to his wife, I have good news! Our guest has passed away. Now I can do the great mitzvah of escorting the dead. And off he went to do a mitzvah.

The next day he said to his wife, wife! Now I have another mitzvah, paying a shiva call (condolence) to the son of the man who passed away.

The next day the miser said to his wife, so happily, look how many mitzvos I did! I helped a poor man out, I visited the sick, I escorted the dead, and comforted the mourning. Four great mitzvot that came about, all from one little smelly piece of fish from the garbage!

Go figure. This story made me disgusted, and I thought, what an idiot this guy is. And that, on top of being a mean miserly person.

It makes me sad to see that. How can you daven, pray to G-d, and yet refuse to give a starving man food? Of course, this story is a bit drastic, and hopefully there are no starving men around today, and if there are, hopefully kind people help them out.

But think about it: a ger once asked Rabbi Akiva to teach him the whole Torah, and he answered, 'Veahavta leraiacha kamocha, ze klal gadol batorah!' Never forget that. What does it matter if you make a beautiful, shining, loud, lebedik, emotional, holy kiddush, if right after you are gonna spit in G-d's face, and refuse a Jew in need? They must come hand in hand.

I am tempted to say, 'don't do kiddush at all, don't daven, don't do anything holy, if that's how you act.' But of course, our job is to elevate the physical onto a spiritual level. So say kiddush, just make sure that it influences all other aspects of your life too.

On a positive note: 'men darf ton a yid a toive'. Says the Baal Shem Tov, a Jew comes down to this world for 70, 80 years, for the sole purpose of helping out a fellow Jew, in gashmiyut, and specifically, in ruchniyut.

Go do some good. The world needs you. Ya, you.

Yud tes kislev

I promised you more about yud tes kislev, but I don't feel that I can do it justice. Tune in now to watch a live farbrengin, at Shmais.com by Rabbi Jacobson.

Leshana tova belimud hachassidus, ub'darchei hachassidus.

Some thoughts

I wish there was a way to measure how much a person will influence you.
A way to tell who will cherish you, and who will break your heart.
Who will trample you, and who will respect you.
To know who will be here temporarily, and who will stay with you forever.

Then maybe I would know how much energy to invest in each person.
But of course, there is no way to know.

So you must work hard, help everyone, care for each person,
love a lot, give everything you have,
and sometimes have everything thrown back in your face.
Have your heart broken into many many pieces, all in the name of love.
Life is cruel like that.

Or maybe, maybe, life is a learning game, and you become so much smarter through playing.

Ask not, what can you do for me, ask, what can I do for you.
Accept help when it is offered to you, and don't be too bone headed and full of pride to ask, when help is needed.

Don't measure a relationship by quantity, or how much you give or get,
measure it in quality, in laughs, in smiles, in hugs, and in kind words that are said.

Repay your debts, but be lax in demanding that from others. Perhaps they are unable to repay you at the moment.

Look for opportunities to give, and you will receive so much more in return.

Be friends to many, but have few of your own.

Disclaimer: I cannot say that I have put all of these into practice. In life, sometimes you must go through a situation in order to get hindsight, and become much wiser as a result. But luckily, G-d gives us the gift of foresight as well.

These are my thoughts. Feel free to add your own.

It's slushing out!!!!!

I can hardly call this snow. It's more of a rain, with some snowflakes mixed in, which leads me to give it the name, slush. It's slushing out!

Summer is definitely over, as is fall. My front steps are strewn with fallen leaves that everyone (ya, me included) was too lazy to sweep up, then it rained and they turned into wet clumps, and they are still sitting there calling 'help, help!' but no one cares. Someone had the gall to ask me why no one cleaned our steps, and I rolled my eyes. Like, I can use my time for much better things then sweeping up leaves and stuffing them in a garbage back. And anyway, the snow will cover it soon, and then it'll all be good.

Tonight is a night to curl up with a mug of hot chocolate, with little marshmellow floating on top. Or tea, for our British folk. It is a night to stay indoors, read a good book, or watch a good movie.

The times, they are changing! And how. This week is gonna be the first light of Chanukah! It is so exciting, I love this time of year. It always brings to mind a snow globe, filled with white trees, and lots of glitter for fake snow, and a pond, and ice skating, and of course, lots of pretty lights, in all colors. I wanna drive down the street and take it all in.

Tonight is a yom tov. Mention of it here does not do it justice. It needs it's own post. It needs a farbrengin, and learning of a sicha. It needs hachlatos, and perhaps a visit to the ohel, and maybe, if you're lucky, a call to the mashpia.

Tonight is Yud Tes Kislev, the 19th day in the hebrew month of kislev. This day marks the beginning of Chabad Chassidus. It is a victory, and a triumph. I will iy''h post more about it tomorrow.

Gut yom tov! And enjoy the slush!

The jokes on me

"A man tracht, un gut lacht."

It's funny how that works. G-d is up there right now, and He must be laughing at how funny it is. But I don't find it funny. Nope.

Random stufff

My Mama's talking about me. Again. She says it's her right, being that I'm her child. Yadayada. Well the good part is, she makes me sound like an awesome person. 'Oh yes, she's an excellent writer. Oh yes, she knows computers. Oh ya, she's really smart.' I drew the line when she offered to call up a person I had an interview with, and tell them to hire me. No thanks, Mother.

Last night I made a midnight pie run for a friend of mine. In the rain. Cuz a girl must have her pie, and I'm a good person. And I didn't even make the pie, my mother did. And when the friend asked for the recipe my mother laughed and said, 'you buy the pie crust, you put the filling in, you put another pie crust on top, voila!' But I made a girl very happy, so I'll put that on my list of good deeds for the day.

I went on a drive with someone as a favor. She was nervous, cuz it was an unfamiliar area. On the way back, we were driving through a very narrow street, and I cringed cuz we were getting very close to the parked cars. But I kept my mouth shut, cuz no one likes a backseat driver. And it was a rental, so I figured, if we hit a car, it wasn't such a big deal. Except I would be on the side of the car that would get hit. Ya, good thing we didn't crash.

Today I made soup. It's a pea soup with vegetables, and it tastes really good. Everyone is invited to my house for some soup and inspiration. I'll provide the soup, and you supply the inspiration.

Yud tes kislev is coming up. I should do something for it, but I don't know what. Any ideas?

The road to hell is paved with good intentions

You wake up in the morning with a song in your heart, thinking today is gonna be the day. Today you will conquer the world. Today, you will do good, you will make it happen, you will change the world.

And then you go to sleep dejected, because you didn't even try.

I was gonna go to a neighbor's wedding, but I didn't, because I came back late from class. I was gonna pay my teacher a shiva call, but I didn't, because I excused myself saying that I didn't know her that well.

I was gonna do so many things. Like learn a new language. And travel the world. Make a discovery. Become a volunteer at a soup kitchen. Work with disabled children. Donate blood. Ride a motorcycle. Meet my favorite actor.

And now, 71 years later, I find myself at 90. And the only thing on that list I did was learn French. Now I know the numbers from 1-10, and the days of the week.

I'm joking, of course. I am only 19. Thank G-d I have my whole life ahead of me, and despite my brother's claim that anyone who ever became famous did it before they hit 20, I know I still have a chance.

Okay let's try this: make yourself a list of the top 20 things you want to attempt or accomplish before you turn ____. I would put the range at 5 years. And look at it every once in awhile, and encourage yourself to do them.

If that includes getting a tattoo, or shaving your head, sky diving, or going on an archaeological dig, meeting the president, or running naked in the street, then by all means, include it on your list. Just make sure to put that very low down, cuz you might never actually get to it.

Be creative, be true to yourself. Write stuff down that you know in your heart you want to do, but would never admit to anyone. Like if you want to become a chef, but you think all your friends would think of you as a sissy.

At the end of the day, you don't want any regrets. So start now, and turn all your intentions into actualization.

Do it! (That was supposed to be said with a very scary face, like when I want my little brother to do what I say.) Get off the couch people!

Why don't you just ask

Take my words at face value, and try not to read into them so much. Usually when I say something, I mean it. Unless it's when you ask me 'How are you' and I say I'm fine, when I'm really not, but I need you to prod me to tell you what's on my mind. Or when you ask me what's wrong, and I say, nothing, but I just want you to hug me and tell me to stop lying to you.

Yes, wouldn't it be great to live in a universe where women just said what they meant, and meant what they said, instead of torturing their men to try to figure it out? And G-d forbid should the man get it wrong, he knows where he is gonna sleep tonight.

It's funny though. Sometimes people just assume stuff. And I wonder, why don't you just ask me? Ask me for a ride, instead of assuming that I would refuse. Ask me if I want to hang out with you, before deciding I would say no.

Ask me what I mean when you don't understand, instead of making it up by yourself, and getting it completely wrong.

Ask me what my opinion is on something, before deciding that I wouldn't understand, and I don't have an opinion at all.

Ask me what I want for my birthday, instead of buying me nothing at all. (lol. That was a joke, don't worry, my birthday isn't for another few months.)

I know that every persons mind works differently. I know that no two humans have the same thoughts at the same time, or the exact same feelings on the same event. I know that whatever goes on in my vast brain is not the same as the next person.

When I react negatively to a piece of news, you may be happy about it. Or vice versa.

And for that reason, you should ask, instead of assuming. There's a joke about the word assume, it makes an ass out of you and me.

So why don't you try it. Next time you want to know how I'm feeling, or what I'm thinking, ask me. I have so much to tell you, so many thoughts to share, if only you asked, and really wanted to know.

And if I disappoint you- well that's your problem.

Untitled

Sometimes, you can say exactly how you are feeling.

But there are times that you need someone else to say it for you.

 Maybe it's a bumper sticker that captures your thoughts exactly. Other times, it is a particular song you like, that explains what's in your heart. Or perhaps a poem.

And then there are the times that you just keep quiet, because words are not enough.