My 4th of July

It started out normal, but ended off with a fright.

We had a fun day at Fun Fore All, an indoor arcade place, with outdoor go carting, bumper boats, rides, miniature golf, batting cages. It was lots of fun. We got soaking wet squirting each other on the bumper boats, I got hit in the arm by a flying soft ball, while I discovered that I suck at baseball, and the go carts were not that much fun now that I drive a car all the time.

We came home and had a barbecue, in one of those mini outdoor portable grills. The hamburgers crumbles cuz I put too much sauce in it. I am slowly learning that I have no skills. I left the coals to burn out and be disposed of later, and we went to a family's house to celebrate their son's birthday with cake. Afterward we were gonna go watch the fire works.

The grill wasn't hot anymore so I took it to the dumpster and poured the coals in. It smoked a bit. I should have known.

I went inside for a bit, stalled, went on the computer, hung around. Then we left to go to fire works. And I noticed the garbage dump smoking. Then came the flames.

I wasn't so calm. I called 911. It rang and rang and no one was answering so I hung up and called again, it still rang like five times until someone picked up, and I thought maybe it was an automated voice, or perhaps police isn't 911 here. Their customer service sucks.

Luckily, I knew the address of the Chabad house, and also luckily, we are staying right next store to a fire station. Some girls ran over to call them, and knocked and knocked and it took awhile for someone to come. Then they took their time getting into the truck, getting the hose, etc etc. They said cuz it was contained in the garbage dump it wasn't that dangerous.

The Rabbi came, spoke to the police and fireman.

Every day we say, let's go visit the fire station. And we never do. Finally, they came to us. Kind of ironic.

I saw some fire works in the sky, as we drove around and around. Thank G-d it was fine, everything was ok, I handled it fine even though I was freaked out.

That was a 4th of July I'll never forget.

Happy holiday.

2 down 4 to go

Thank G-d it's happening.

The cutest was on Friday. I had each bunk prepare a skit to present during shabbos party, based on the sheur of the week. One thing we taught this week was kosher. One bunk got up. Their presentation was a game show called kosher or not kosher. They had a host, and contestants. The contestants were presented with food items and had a 'buzzer' (plastic cup) and had to say whether that food was kosher or not kosher. The counselor told me the campers came up with it on their own. I was shepping nachas.

Oy how I sigh when things go wrong, when information doesn't get passed along, when I tell people things ten times and they still don't listen. Oy how I get upset when I feel things get messed up and it's all on my head. But I am human and I am not perfect.

That's all for now folks. Enjoy your week.

For the win

Hope everyone is having an easy fast. Most days in camp I'm too busy to eat anyway, so I bring a sandwich with me on the go. But when you are not allowed to eat you feel it so much more.

Last week's dress up contest was crazy hat day. Some kids didn't bring hats, so a little boy got up wearing a kippa. These kids are no where near religious, but they are encouraged to wear kippa and yalmuka in camp, with incentives and prizes to help them. I asked each kid what his hat was called, so the kid said, 'it's called a God cap'. I asked him why and he said cuz when you wear it it reminds you of G-d, and it's important. He's only seven. Needless to say, he won the dress up contest.

It's little things like that that make me smile and remind me why I'm doing this.

It's harder for me to connect to the kids cuz I don't have one specific bunk to connect with one on one, it's really all the kids in my charge. That's about 40 kids every day, and I'm only now beginning to learn all the names. But I decided to put in extra effort to learn the kids names and matching faces, because that is important.

Camp is going good. Every day is different, but thank G-d at the end of every day I can say we did it, and then go to sleep. Correction: and then prepare for the next day.

It's definitely an alternate universe. I know it won't last and it'll end sometime, but I can't remember what it was like before, and I have no idea what will happen after. For now, the present is good enough for me.

Who knows what the future will bring- forget about it, just focus on the now.

Musings

Are you supposed to stop living so you can figure out your life?

?

If I'm not good for this, and I'm not good for that, then what am I good for?

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

Brain is moving so fast like a whirlpool, like my fingers flying over the keyboard, so much happening, so much to say, but can't think, no time to think, no time to breath, no time to eat. No time, no time...

It's all happening too fast. Getting off the plane, no sleep. Sunday. First day of camp. The baking flopped. I take these things hard. I almost cried, but pulled myself together. Shluchim's motto is, just laugh, it's all ok. I know that, but easier said then done. Me, this is all on me, I don't want to mess up. The stress, the pressure, I feel as if I am in grade school and pressured to get good grades, only, I can only imagine what that's like cuz grades weren't my strong point.

Shluchim keep saying, good job good job, the first day was amazing, and all I can think is ya sure, you probably say that every year no matter how it went.

I feel out of my element here. In a different world. Things move so much faster here and you just gotta keep up. My converse all stars are getting a good work out, they will be worn down by the end of the summer. The building is huge, up and down and around, walky talkies help some, really cool to use, but still. You just keep on moving from the second you wake up, which is early, until you get back from camp and collapse in utter exhaustion, to have to pull yourself together 10 minutes later cuz there is stuff to do for the next day, and then it starts all over again.

And here I'm speaking like I've been in camp for weeks.

I long for the freedom that I had before. The 'me' time, the downtime, to chill, to sleep, or whatever. Now, I feel like I'm being pulled from all sides, I feel like when I talk no one listens, I feel like I need to be in three places at once; I feel like a parent. Wow.

But then I remember how dull my life was before, how I had nothing to do, and how exciting it is now to be a part of something, to have an awesome responsibility, to have the master key to a building and the only driver for our awesome car, and carry a clipboard. It is a big responsibility, yes, but I know I can do it. I know I have it in me, sometimes it's just hard to find when I'm tired, or grumpy, or upset. And I just want to sleep and not get up the next day and not do it all over again, and just fly home and forget it.

That's when I hear a little voice inside my head. Sometimes it's my mother, sometimes my friend, sometimes even me, saying yes you can Altie. Get up, get moving, and do what you know how to do! Oh, and do it well.

I try. Right now my bed is calling, it's late, and that little voice only works after I've had sleep and food.

Good night, and I hope everyone's summer is going well.

When it rains it pours

It poured on Shabbos. It was glorious. Rain, oh rain how I love thee. It made this place feel less strange and foreign. Bringing something familiar to an otherwise unfamiliar place. Twas nice.

Other then that, it's really hot and humid here.

I slept 16 hours on Shabbos. It was awesome. Now I feel more like a person and less like a zombie, and a little more ready to tackle camp and all the little things we need to do.

Goodbye tonight, hello tomorrow, let's get this summer started!

Blogging from the airport

So I'm here, at the airport, at 6 am. Not fun. Hardly slept, so tired, can't string coherent sentences. Packed, over packed, overweight but they let it go.

I try to remember that I'm going essentially for shlichus. I'm working in a camp, giving non religious kids a summer filled with Judaism. It's a big responsibility and a good thing to do.

I try to remember that I signed up for this, that I want to go.

I try to tell myself that Pittsburgh will be cool, it's a new place for me.

I try to tell myself a lot of things, but my addled sleep deprived brain doesn't understand.

It says to me, why Altie, why are we up this early?

And I don't know what to tell it.

p.s. this is the coolest feeling having a laptop at the airport. My first time.

Fireflies

They were my favorite summer companions. Many a lazy summers night we would sit outside, my little neighbor friends and I, lay in the grass and look up at the sky. They would come out after dark. We called them light-up bugs, because they light up.

They would flit around aimlessly, and their tails would randomly glow, for but a second, leaving you to wonder if you actually saw what you saw. It was magical.

I just saw one tonight. I wasn't sure it was it, but there was my little friend, winking at me. I forgot how much fun we had as kids.

Hello fireflies, my summer friend.

Cause and effect

I used to think the trees created wind. After all, you can't see the wind, but you see the trees moving with the breeze. Then I grew up and was set right.

Cause and effect. Do I cause my actions, or do my actions cause me to be the person I am?

It is true that a person is more likely to act according to his surroundings. If a person is in a room full of people who are quiet, naturally he will stay quiet. If the room full of people is loud and partying, well he might still be quiet.

There is a concept, fake it till you make it. Smile, and you will become a happy person. Force yourself to learn, and you will become a learner. Do an action over and over again until the action becomes you.

The same with the way you dress. Dress aidel, and you will become an aidel person. And the opposite is also true.

A strong person causes his actions, but a weak person lets his actions sway and define him. So which person are you?

Tonight is Gimel Tamuz. I can't help but remember where I was a year ago. In an airport in Detroit, on standby, hoping I would get on the plane that would take me to California. I davened mincha, I called my mother crying, and when I calmed down I realized it was Gimel Tamuz and I was stuck in an airport.

No, this is not some story that ends with how I did mivtzoyim and told everyone about Gimel Tamuz and got Jews to do mitzvos. That's not how every story ends. Sometimes, self reflection is enough. Where am I? Yes, I know I am here, but where am I in life? Where am I headed?

Tomorrow is my brother's bar mitzvah and I will count that as my farbrengin. Wherever you are, whatever stage you are in life, take a moment for self reflection and ask yourself, where am I? Do I let my actions define me, or am I strong enough to make my actions reflect the person I want to be?

Lechaim

Little brother growing up

It feels like just yesterday. We sent him off to shul with a bag of sour sticks, evidence of it drooling down his chin. His hair was freshly washed and combed, that action taking some time and effort, and a bit of struggling. He looked so cute and little in his tiny sneakers. And today was the day. He was getting his first haircut.

That was ten years ago. This week my little brother will be turning thirteen. He is my youngest sibling, and the last of the boys to have a bar mitzva. It should feel more special and momentous, but somehow it's not. It just feels normal. Regular.

A few years ago when my sister was not yet married I said, iy''h by the time my little brother's bar mitzvah comes around, she will be married, and maybe we will even have a niece or nephew to celebrate with. B"H my 'prophecy' came true. My sister is married, and my little niece will be at the bar mitzvah.

I am happy for him. I know to a little boy a bar mitzvah doesn't mean much. Your friends come, you get money and presents, you have cake, and dancing. And for Orthodox Jews, the boy is not exactly taking on the mitzvot for the first time. They are trained from when they are young, so that when they come to the point where they are obligated to do them, they won't be so hard and burdensome. So what does a bar mitvah mean, exactly? I guess it means he is growing up.

To my mother he will always be her 'baby'. And she does baby him. I can imagine he will be married and my mother will still call up reminding him little things, making him food, driving him places. But such is the way of a mother. To me he will always be the little brother who is slightly annoying, sometimes okay, and will never grow up.

To my little brother: (name excluded, in case it will G-d forbid affect his future shidduchim***) I wish you much happiness, and hope that your growing up years will be smooth and not bumpy, and that one day I will look at you and no longer see you as a baby, but a mature adult, and an equal.

Now lets hope that I can find a dress in time for the bar mitzvah, and that it will truly be a joyous occasion.

Mazal tov!

*** meant strictly as a joke.

SUMMER!!! and stuff

Summer comes,
Spring wanes,
along with it comes sunshine rains.

The temp is hot,
the guys are not,
in the pool we want to stay.

I've got to work
no time to play
for me this ain't vaca-
tion.

Rise at seven
kids and camp
no time for a nap.

Burnt we get
like barbecue
faces red and peeling.

No sunscreen?
That's just dumb
tanning like a beach bum.

No plans for next year
but who cares
forget about it now.

Relax, let loose
enjoy the sun
have some summer fun.

Three months it is
until it ends
and then the fall comes again.

The ant and the grasshopper
like in the French fable
La cigale et la fourmi on my kitchen table.

Danced and sang
all summer long
the inevitable I did prolong.

The time has come
to move on, but-
damn I've got no job.

Life's ups and downs

I want to write a story. But it involves so many decisions. Should the protagonist be good or bad? Should I kill someone off? Have them die of a natural death? It's a bit like playing G-d. I get to decide what happens to the characters.

Not so much in real life.

I would love to write my own story someday. It is far from over, and G-d willing won't be for quite a number of years. I want to be able to inspire people with my life, the struggles I went through, and what I did to overcome them. Does that sound egotistical? It isn't. Every person has a story to tell. Some stories are more exciting then others, but every story has a starting point, and many ups and downs.

When the bocher Nosson Deitch A"H passed away, someone said something that sounded strange. He said, Nosson was a part of my life, and now all those pages that he was on will be gone, like they were ripped out. But that's not true. Just because someone is gone, doesn't mean they never existed. The ending may be different now, but everything until that point is still the same.

If life is like a book, what do you do to turn the page? When things are just not working? Do you think it's possible to just skip to the next chapter?

I wish that life were like a fairy tale. Once upon a time, they lived happily ever after, and everything in between. But it isn't. You have to create your own destiny. You have to work for your success and your happily ever after.

Sometimes life is so confusing. Like a whirlpool, or a tornado. Everything spinning out of control. I feel like pounding my fists, screaming, crying, or breaking something at all the injustice of it.

But sometimes, sometimes I take out my siddur. I give a little prayer to G-d and say hey, and then I feel better afterward. I feel calm, and I remember that I am not alone in this. He listens, even if it seems He doesn't hear.

Memories

Here's the thing about memories- they change depending on how you feel. When you are sad your memories will have a sad tint to them. And the same when you are happy. Your memories of things and places reflects your mood.

Just like smell, music is strongly associated with memories. If something memorable happened while you were listening to a particular song, every time you hear that song you will feel the same emotions you felt then. Happy, or sad.

For me, even happy memories of a good time and place with people I like being around, are just a bit sad. It is sad because I know it will never happen again, and that it is over. That's why sometimes it is hard for me to remember. Then I end up missing the experience and wishing I could relive it. And wishing that I could go back and redo it, and take advantage and make it ten times greater.

Last summer I had an awesome time in California with my friends. I was recently listening to a song that I listened to all the time last summer and it brought it all back. And here's the funny thing- I can't remember anything negative. I mean, there was negative stuff, as there are many times, and it's not like I blocked it out. But when I remember it, I'm not mad or upset anymore. It's more of a, 'I remember when that happened. Awww can't believe I did that.' But all the good times overpower everything else.

I wanna make new memories. I wanna be able to say ten years down the line, 'remember when we did that, or went there, or acted crazy?' It's harder now, not being in seminary or with my friends all the time. Now when we want to get together we have to make an effort. A text or a phone call or a walk. It's not the same as living with girls for a year, or spending a summer with them, laughing and bickering and smiling and crying and going through everything together with the people you care about. But then again, who ever said friendship was supposed to be easy?

Here's to a life time full of great memories and experiences with the people you love, and the ones who you will meet who will become a special part of your life.

Things that irk me

Please stop sending me forwards that start off: "If you delete this email you really have no heart." Really? Really? Cuz that is for sure gonna get me to read it. And then it goes on to say that they are sick, or dying, and need your help, and that microsoft, or google, or AT&T, or any other such corporation, promised to give them 5 cents for every time it is forwarded. Bla bla bla. And on and on.

I don't believe it for a minute. No one gives out money like that. The only way you may actually get money is if you win the lottery or play on a game show. All those ads you see that say 'enter to win', they are bogus. You can't actually win anything. They just want your email address to send you spam.

And another thing: I just got a forwarded email saying that a virus is coming. A) I don't believe it's true. And b) if it is, maybe the virus is contained in that email and when I open it it will crash my hard drive. So now you really expect me to open it?

Stop sending me forwards. I don't send them to you.

And just because my name is the first letter in your friends list on facebook does not mean I have to get all your requests to join groups, to play farmville, or any such thing. How bout we try this: I'll leave you alone and you leave me alone. Deal.

I just think forwards are stupid. Plus, those forwards that say, forward this to 5 people and see what appears on your screen, they don't work. I was stupid enough to try it once. Forwarded emails take up space and time.

Before you decide to say that I am insensitive or that I really don't have a heart: that is entirely not true. I have a heart, I'm just not stupid enough to buy into these things. You really want my help? Call me or come see me. Don't abuse my email address with your problems and then blame me for not caring.

This is my rant for the day.

The art of littering

It's funny to see how people surreptitiously drop stuff on the floor thinking no one notices, and trying to look like they didn't even realize.

Guilty as charged.

Of Cookies and Crossroads

I made cookies today. It was a nice smell. Like oatmeal and cinnamon.

I can get so much work done when I trick my brain into thinking that I'm not actually working. Like stuffing envelopes with invitations to my brother's bar mitzvah (which is in less then two weeks) while watching a show. Then, I am doing something enjoyable while getting a tedious task done.

I haven't had much to write about in awhile. I think you have to be actually doing something with your life to have stuff to write about. I kind of realized that living your life in the future, based on what I will be doing, isn't much of a life.

I will be a head counselor this summer. I leave in two weeks.

I will IY"H maybe go on shlichus next year, I have no idea where I end up.

I will G-d willing get married sometime, and start a great life together with the lucky guy I will marry. And have kids, and maybe get a degree, write a book, open a chabad house, or school, be a principal, or psychologist, guidance counselor, social worker, one or all.

Right now I'm not really doing much. I wish I could say I'm at a crossroads in life, but that already happened. I think that when I got to the fork in the road I just forgot to choose a path. Maybe I'm still sitting there pondering which way to go. I hope to figure it out soon.

I'm going to camp in two weeks. That's all I know right now.

Oh, and my cookies are good.

Monopoly, then and now

Remember the good old days when monopoly came in one standard game, with paper money? You could buy avenues and railroads and companies. It came with little red and green houses. It was a classic.

Now, as I watch my little brother and his friend play, monopoly is just not the same. Now there are no little houses, and you can't buy avenues. Instead, you could buy Mall of America, JFK, airports, cities. AND, and, there is no paper money. Each player gets a credit card, and it comes with a little credit card machine. It's all electronic banking now. And they will never know what once was.

Sigh. I never knew a new game of monopoly would hit so hard and make me realize how much the world is changing.

Gave blood!

I have to admit, every time Yossi posted a story about how he gave blood, I was a bit jealous. I've wanted to give blood for the longest time. I never have. Once, when I finally got around to doing it there was a snow storm and it was canceled. So today when I saw on ch.info that there was a blood drive specifically specifically for women, I decided to go.

I was nervous. I'm not scared of blood, I just don't like pain. When the baby put his mouth on my leg I flinched, even though he has no teeth and technically can't bite me. But it's human nature.

They checked me for all the important stuff, blood pressure, iron level, temperature. It all checked out. Yay.

I sat in the chair and looked at the needle. The needle looked at me. Then the nurse (don't know if they are nurses but medical people) gave me her 'world' (a stress ball shaped like a world) and told me not to ruin it. I told her maybe I'll make her world a better place. Then that needle went right into my arm.

It was taking awhile, so she said I'm a slow bleeder. Said I, oh that's great, if I ever bleed to death will it take a long time?

Then I got really cool green sticky tape to wrap around my arm. Drank some juice, got two stickers saying first time doner, and, be nice to me I donated blood today. And a free coupan for a meal at Mendy's. Probably give that away.

Now I have given the gift of life. Feels good.

Bluntness

Some people ask me why I'm so blunt. I say, why must you beat around the bush?

Being blunt has its limits, just like everything else. But there are times to say things in a sensitive way, and times to just say it straight. And I love seeing the look on someone's face when I say something totally open and honest and refreshing, and they were not expecting it.

You want to know if I have any pictures with guys on facebook? Or of me drinking, or smoking, or doing hooka? (Guilty on the last charge but it is gone now). Or, gasp, nude photos? Why don't you just ask me straight out, instead of hinting at it? I'm a big girl. I'm not stupid. You want to know how I dress or if I have problems with tznius? Again, just ask me.

I'm referring to the shlucha I just spoke to in regards to a job for next year. Of course, I went to check my pictures on facebook right after I spoke to her, just in case...

:) very cute

On a Northwest Airways flight from Atlanta , GA , a well attired middle-aged woman found herself sitting next to a man wearing a kippa ("yarmulka" in Yiddish). She called the attendant over to complain about her seating.

"What seems to be the problem, Madam?" asked the attendant.
"You've sat me next to a Jew!! I can't possibly sit next to this strange man. Please find me another seat!"

"Madam, I will see what I can do to accommodate," the attendant replied, "but the flight is virtually full today and I don't know if there is another seat available."

The woman shoots a snooty look at the snubbed Jewish man beside her (not
to mention the surrounding passengers).

A few minutes later the attendant returned and said, "Madam, the economy and club sections are full, however, we do have one seat in First class."

Before the lady had a chance to respond, the attendant continued, "It is only on exceptions that we make this kind of upgrade, and I had to ask permission from the captain. But, given the circumstances, the captain felt that no one should be forced to sit next to an unpleasant person..."

The flight attendant turned to the Jewish man sitting next to her, and said: "So if you'd like to get your things, Sir, I have a comfortable seat for you in First class..." At this point, the surrounding passengers stood up and gave a standing ovation while the Jewish man walked up to the front of the plane.

The lady then said indignantly, "The Captain must have made a mistake.."
To which the attendant replied,
"No Ma'am. Captain Cohen never makes a mistake."

A double mazal tov

Dear blogger:

It's starting. You know that moment, that single event that triggers a whole bunch of other events, like a domino effect that goes on and on and doesn't stop until it's over? That starts everything else into motion, and then you know, you just know that that is it and nothing will ever again be the same? Know what I'm talking about? Like this.

I do.

Today not one, but two of my classmates got engaged. No, not to each other. And no I don't think they planned it. It is exciting, and beautiful, and amazing, and of course, totally expected.

Yes expected.

It makes sense that the year after seminary, two years out of high school, a class of girls who are bli ayin hara 20 years old should start getting engaged. And the more the merrier.

I look into my glass ball... or Jewish equivalent. In our future I see many simchas, lots more engagements and weddings, then kids, and families and homes.

20 years down the line when we all meet up for our reunions and catch up, and figure out if the nerds really did become famous and the popular girls really did go down the drain- oh that would be public school reunions, my bad- we will all laugh and smile and say, remember that day when two girls in our class got engaged? G-d willing may it be soon for everyone.

I can feel the rumbling. It is starting.

Musing

If you engage in combat with your enemy in defense, that is understandable. But if you fight with him out of a desire to fight- that is just stooping to his level.

For Staples

It's cheesecake time!

When I was in sixth grade, my teacher made cheesecake in school with my class, and gave out the recipe. It's called a no bake frozen triangular cheesecake. My family really liked it, and since then I have made it for Shavuos almost every year. Only problem is, I misplace the recipe from year to year, and then have to try to remember it, or figure it out.

I'm gonna make it this year. I googled it, and there are other people who know what I'm talking about! Although slightly differently.

Normally I'm not a big cheesecake eater. But it's Shavuos, so it's required. We have at least 3 to try from this year.

Bon apetite, and may everyone have a spiritual, and tasteful giving of the Torah holiday this year!

Haha!

So I got my shoes (or rather, shoe) after all.

LOL

I have a confession to make. I'm afraid I have fallen pray to the LOL and the :) generation. It is a horrible syndrome to which there is no cure.

There is such a thing as smiling too much. Yes. It is not so bad when you see someone in person, except you might end up looking like your face is cracking. Imagine this: you see a friend or acquaintance you have not seen in awhile. Of course you must smile, act like you are happy to see them, ask about them, and endure as they ask about you, your life, how you are, and bla bla bla. So you keep that smile on your face for dear life even as you are thinking, 'ok when is it polite to end this conversation, do I have to hug her or can I get away with a wave, ya like she really wants to know about my life'. Etc. Cuz if you wouldn't smile, well that would just be weird.

But I'm talking about a different type of smiling. The online kind. Here's an example of a fictional conversation that could be real:

Random Person: Hi Altie!!!!! How are you????? (yes, they must put lots of explanation marks. Makes them sound more excited, and high on something.)
Me: Hi! :) I'm good, how are you?
RP: good!! :) hows life?
M: :) its great. (it's really not.) How's yours?
RP: amazing!!!! I miss you!!!
M: :) :) I miss you too! (I don't.)
RP: Happy birthday!!!! :) How does it feel to be 20?
M: :) Thank you! It feels great. (It doesn't.)
RP: So did you do anything special for it?
M: :) :) :) :) :) :)

(here's where I make up an excuse and sign off.)

Here's my point: not every sentence must be punctuated with a smiley face. And if you don't G-d forbid use a smiley or a million exclamation marks, doesn't mean you are depressed or not high on life. Maybe you are just smiling for real.

Same thing with LOL. Stop using it as a filler. Most people who use it are not really laughing out loud.

Don't let your conversationee force you into a smile you don't really mean.

My first love

He will always be my first love, no matter how many people I will meet after him.

His eyes are so blue I get lost in them.

Whenever I look at him, he is smiling at me.

He makes me happy.

He makes me want to sing.

He laughs at my jokes.

He makes me feel loved.

He holds out his arms to me-

And I pick him up and hold him tight.

He falls asleep in my arms.

My boobah- you will always be my first love.

p.s. this is talking about a baby I babysit. Not a guy, for those quick to judge.

On the occassion of my birthday...

I would like to give everyone a bracha. please take it personally. (first time i said that )
you should first and foremost always be happy, in every situation and wherever life may take you. you should have the koach to rise to every challenge G-d throws your
way. You should be a good influence on those around you, continue to
learn and grow in yidishkeit. for those who need specific brachas, may
you have parnassah, success in everything you do, find your bashert in
the right time, may it be soon, and it should be an amazing year with
only happiness and lots of simchos!!! Moshiach now!!!!!

(if you want a personal bracha call me or email me. if you want to know how i spent my birthday... well details to come.)

Countdown

If anyone noticed the countdown, I set it to end at midnight the night of my Hebrew birthday. Technically, my birthday starts even before that, tonight at nightfall. But that's okay. I'll take birthday wishes anytime.

Social awkwardnessnessness

It was 7th grade all over again.

The popular people in the center, chatting and giggling amongst themselves, and me, off to the side with a book, trying to look busy, like I didn't care that no one tried to include me in conversation. Only this time, I wasn't in grade school. And I didn't have a book. I had my cell phone, so I texted people in a vain attempt to look preoccupied, and not as awkward as I felt. But I think that only made it worse. So I left.

9th grade. High school. New girl, in a new school, new country. (Ok, technically Canada is not a country.) Two friendly girls came up to me and introduced themselves. Broke the ice. I was thankful for that, cuz I'm not good at that.

I have been told that on first impressions I seem a bit aloof and snobby. I know, right? Here's the thing: if you are by nature a shy person, or not so quick to be social in a new situation, who's responsibility is it to introduce themselves?

It works both ways: if you can accuse me of being anti-social, I can accuse you of ignoring me and being unfriendly.

I'm not really the kind of person who clings to her friends and can't go anywhere without them. (Example: the bathroom.) But still, it is nice to have someone familiar with you when meeting new people.

Take a lesson: if you are ever at a social event and you see people off to the side, be the one to go over and say hi. They are probably standing there thinking, 'can I look at my watch again? How many times have I done that already? Is it rude to leave the room and make believe I have a phone call?' They want to feel as comfortable as you do.

Bocher I’m awesome

This poem was inspired by the song 'I'm awesome' by Spose. It is meant as a parody, a joke, and is not meant to be taken as an insult.

I’m awesome

No you’re not bocher don’t lie.

I’m awesome

I have never in my life worn a tie

I’m awesome

Can’t afford pointy shoes

So I wear crocs, so comfortable, those will have to do

Unless I go on a date

In which case

I can always borrow a suit

But no dates for me cuz I didn’t get smicha

Plus my sister has facebook so nobody wants me.

I go to shul once in awhile

Mismatched suit, never in style

Black hat beaten up you’d think I got in a fight

Had it since I was thirteen, but that’s alright.

On Friday night I eat Gefilte fish

If there is smirnoff I’ll even make Kiddush

I go to a farbrengin on all the holy days

So I can drink a lechaim and act like an idiot

And yes super bowl counts as one

I’m awesome

No you’re not bocher don’t lie

I’m awesome

Never in my life gotten high (weed doesn’t count)

I’m awesome

Met all my friends at yeshiva

Dropped out cuz I couldn’t take the pressure

Now I live at home for free

No need for an alarm clock

Cuz my mother wakes me

Never worked a day in my life

Easy ride, now isn’t that nice

I’m awesome

No you’re not bocher don’t lie

I’m awesome

You’d never know, cuz I’m so shy But-

I’m awesome

Tzitzis that stick out and a shirt untucked

Look like a shlump

No money, no job, can’t even earn a quick buck

But that’s ok cuz I’ve got Dad

Who pays my cell phone bill and

Even an allowance

So I can hang out with my friends at a bar

On Motzei Shabbos.

I’m not worried about getting married

Even though I’m 25

I have my pick of girls from when they turn 17

And my whole life to decide

Cuz well, I’m awesome like that

And you know the rest.

I’m awesome

No you’re not bocher don’t lie

I’m awesome

Haven’t left the house in awhile

I’m awesome

But it’s all ok cuz I have a mashpia

And I’m holy like that

I even cry when I pray,

Which doesn’t happen too often,

Mostly on the holidays.

I do mivtzoyim at the airport

So I can hit on pretty girls,

While putting tefillin on their boyfriends.

So I keep a pair handy to take with me on trips.

But I don’t go nowhere cuz well, there’s nowhere to go.

So I stay at home.

By myself.

Not even a cat for company.

Can’t have a pet, cuz I’m holy like that And-

I’m awesome

No you’re not bocher don’t lie

I’m awesome

I drive around in my friends ride

I’m awesome

No need for a license cuz I don’t got a car but

I’m awesome

I will run towards a scene when I see a fight

Be the first one in

And the last one out

I want my name on COL

For doing nothing

But the publicity is great

And don’t hate me for being awesome.

Just follow my lead. You know you want to….

Cuz I’m awesome.

I’m a bocher and I’m awesome.

Birthdays

It’s happening again

It happens every year

Right on time

Never misses a beat

It’s coming

It’s ominous

Like a countdown

A black screen with red numbers that goes beep beep

And turns with each second that passes

Then each minute

Like a time bomb

You smile and make believe you totally forgot about it

While really you are so anxious inside

Nervous

Do something, or don’t do something?

Will anyone even remember it?

Will I get what I want?

But they don’t know what I want

In that case, should I tell them?

Or act totally surprised

And enjoy whatever they get me

Even if it’s just a card

Then there’s everything else

All the holy stuff you gotta do

Can’t forget that

After all, you owe everything to g-d

Time to give something back

So, party and get drunk

And then wake up the next morning with no recollection of what you did?

Or pray the whole day?

Make some good resolutions

That I am sure to break the next day.

So much stress

For just one day

If I pray hard enough

You think it’ll go away?

Just skip to the next day

Like in February there’s only 28 days

And the 29^th is missing

But nobody notices.

This is supposed to be a happy day

And it is

But it isn’t

It is a turning point

It is a time for reflection

Also a time to get drunk and act stupid

And do whatever you want

And blame it on the day

The day that is slowly coming closer

With each tick of the clock

It shouldn’t mean much cuz it happens every year

But it means a lot

And each year that passes brings you closer to old age

So should I smile and be happy

Or get just a bit worried, and nervous

About wrinkles and missing teeth that is to come?

Doesn’t really matter cuz it’s gonna come anyway

And all the preparations won’t stop that

And then

Whatever you do

Or don’t do

It’ll be gone

And over

Like it never happened

Until the next year

When it happens again.

Yes. My birthday is coming.

New blog in the house!

Go check it out. Called, The Thinker, very mysterious and anonymous, but so far it seems like he has a brain and something to say. And he writes poetry. A plus in my book.

Your welcome for the reference. Anyone else who needs help becoming popular, let me know.

An interesting happening

I went power walking tonight with a friend. Got to try out my new sneakers. No, not the converses. Those are still up for grabs.

As we were walking back I started a discussion. I read MM's blog post. (For those of you who hate clicking links as much as I do,) in short, someone saw religious guys from Monsey on a cruise. They took off their kappatos (religious garb) and head coverings, ate not kosher food, smoked on Friday night, took pictures with non religious girls, all with their long peyos hanging out. Ironic. So I mentioned to my friend how great it is that we are Lubavitch, and we could do all of those things but we don't have to hide it.

(Maybe that is a flaw in Lubavitxh, or religion in general, that kids can feel so free in the wrong things they do. But to me, if you do something wrong at least be honest about it. Don't hide it.)

Ok that was kind of a joke. Yes all those things are wrong. But in my opinion, being that they are so sheltered, their desire to rebel and do bad things is so much stronger. For me, because I watch TV, read newspapers, and basically have a general picture of what the outside world is like, I don't have the urge to go all shikse or OTD. Sheltered being the key word here.

That's not even the main part.

We were almost home, we stopped to chat when a black girl walked up to us and said, 'excuse me, can I ask you something?' Now, being a resident of Brooklyn, here is where one generally says 'Run!'. But I said sure. It wasn't that late, there were people walking by, and I figured, if she asks for money, all I have is my cell phone.

It was like G-d sent her from heaven. Her name was Anet. The first words out of her mouth were, 'you guys are Jewish, right?' To which I responded yes. 'But your hair's not covered. You're not married, right?' Again, yes.

Anet proceeded to tell us, 'wow so you guys are modern Jews.' I winced a bit. She mentioned the 'guys with the long peyos (she motioned by her ears in a curling manner) and how they pass her in the street and if she says shalom they don't respond. She thought it was so nice that we were talking to her. She's Baptist. She tried different religions and didn't like any of them. No, this is not some story where we successfully convert someone. That is not our goal anyway. But she was genuinely impressed by us, and how we were 'modern' Jews, not like the ones who look like robots and don't talk to anyone.

And here's the kicker: she mentioned exactly what we were just talking about. She said, how can you recruit people to your religion if you won't even talk to them? We explained to her how some people have higher standards, how some people are more concerned about learning Torah and don't want to waste time. (In a positive light.)

We told her about the seven Noahide laws. She thought I was talking about the 10 commandments.

She asked me if I ever saw her walking with her dog. She lives just a block away. I politely told her no I don't think I've seen her before.

I was left dazed. And with food for thought.

I don't like going on mivtzoyim. It makes me nervous. Plus, I feel like I'm supposed to be representing something that I don't adequately represent. I feel like I'm straddling the line. On the one hand, to me it seems like frum people judge me, for how I dress, act, speak, and they measure what level of religion I'm on.

On the other hand, non religious, or even non Jewish people for that matter praise me and find it so amazing what and who I am. It's confusing.

I wish I could say I properly represented Jews, and that I influenced someone today. But that, I will never know.

Spanish cleaning ladies

The cleaning lady talks to me in spanish. She gestures around with her hands, points to things. I have no idea what she is saying. The only words I understand are 'suddy' (sorry) and 'bye'. Other then that, she could be telling me that she stole all the jewelry in the house, and I would just nod my head and say yes, yes.

She waved some money in my face. 3 hundred dollar bills, and some change. Then she motioned with her hand, and put it down in the dresser. Now, did she tell me that she found the money lying around, and she wanted me to know she wasn't taking it? Was she kindly giving me $300? Or was she asking me to keep it for her for later?

I really should learn Spanish.

Time

Why is it that it is ok, nay, expected of you to be a few minutes late for anything? A meeting, a wedding. Class. The term "fashionably late" is absurd, if you think about it. If you are supposed to be somewhere at a certain time, be there, don't calculate and think that maybe the other person won't be there on time, or they won't mind that you spent a few extra minutes on your hair, or on the computer, or watching the last few minutes of a show. If you decide on a time to be somewhere, be there, no excuses.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go. I was supposed to be somewhere at 12, and it's now 12:05. Oh well, what's a few minutes, right?

Camp

Trying to concentrate, to listen. In another world. Being involved, participating. Asking questions, reaching out, asking for advice. For support. Give and take. Sharing of myself with strangers. Things I don't normally do. For an hour. Being someone I usually am not. For the greater good. For the children. For the directors. For camp.

Of course, it's easier to do all those things by phone, on a conference call where no one can see you and no one knows you.

And then it all comes crashing down. Back to reality. Take your laundry out of the dryer. They don't understand. They don't understand because they don't work in a camp. They don't know what I do or what I go through or the responsibility I am afraid of or how nervous I get or the preparations I dread or the fear of failure. They don't know any of that. So they demand I get off the phone and take my clothes out of the dryer.

There can't be any crossover. No straddling the line. Either you are all there, or not at all. I choose to be there. I want to be there. I don't want to be here. So I will try and remain in that bubble. That euphoria of having a support group. People who understand you, relate to you and have similar fears. People who don't make you take your clothes out of the dryer.

I wasn't looking forward to camp, but now it can't come fast enough.

Birthday blues

If I wish it away, you think it won't come?

I don't want to turn twenty. It means the end of teenage years as I know it. Another birthday means another year gone by, a year in which I didn't accomplish much, and specifically, not the things I pledged to do last birthday. That just means another birthday to make new hachlatas and not follow through on those... a vicious cycle.

Another birthday means I am getting older. Bringing me closer to that ghastly word that I can't say, can hardly even think... old age. Gasp.

I was listening to the radio once, there was this call in session, you could call and tell the person what your fear was, and discuss it with him. This teenage girl called in and said she was scared of growing old. And she didn't even mean old old. She meant like twenties, thirties. She was scared of responsibility, and paying bills, and being poor.

I'm not scared of growing old, no. But I am not looking forward to responsibility, money, or lack of, all the problems that come with growing... old.

So how bout this: I get all the perks and presents of a birthday, but don't age at all. I stay forever young. That would be awesome.

So what REALLY goes on at 1414?

I pass by 1414 President street, one of the boys yeshiva dormitories in Crown Heights, every day. There are always guys outside smoking, talking on phones, or just hanging around. It makes me wonder: do they ever learn or get any real stuff done?