Altie, Somewhere in the USA

So my parents are selling the house. For real this time.

It's funny how the house my family has lived in the longest is the one where I have been the least, and have hardly any memories with.

My first house I lived in for 3 years. Second house was 5 and half years. Third house was one and a half years. Fourth place was 4 years. This current house we have lived in for 6 and a half years.

But by the time we moved in I was away at high school and came back infrequently. This is not a place I call home, it is but a pit stop for me. A place to regroup, reassess. I come here for food and to do laundry, for a free roof over my head. For occasional company.

Where my parents will go from here is a mystery to me, and them as well. Right now everything is up in the air, and who knows where it will fall?

As for me, well my future is uncertain, I live day by day, I don't think about it until it comes. Okay on moving day I'll figure it out.

I might as well get myself a permanent address, kind of like the google voice of addresses. Instead of having a forwarding address all the time I will make my new address:

Altie
Somewhere in the USA

And somehow, whoever and whatever is looking for me, will find me wherever I am.

Who am I

I cry by sad movies. I cry and cry when someone dies. I know it's not real but I can't help it.

I like to sit by the water and feel the breeze on my face.

I love the sound of rain, the smell of it. I love the feel of it on my skin.

I love the feeling of Spring in the air, and knowing that summer is right around the corner.

My favorite colors are green and orange, though not together. When I was little I might have said blue. I changed it.

I get crushed when someone rejects me. As a friend, for a job. It hurts.

I love the smile of an innocent child, especially when they look guilty of something.

I discovered I like cookie dough ice cream.

I'm scared to try because I hate to fail.

I like reading books that have a happy ending.

I hate when people are upset at me, especially if they are justified.

In a book when a good person dies I go back just to see that they are still alive.

I have two hundred friends on facebook, but I am probably only friends with a quarter of them. Maybe less.

I would do anything for my friends, anytime, anywhere, any place.

I can't sleep without noise in the background.

Most of my fears are internal.

I don't like weddings.

I hate the color pink.

I paint swirls of color because that's how I feel inside.

Sometimes I just can't deal with real problems and so I pretend I don't have any.

Sometimes I do stupid things and then hope to G-d they don't come back to haunt me.

Sometimes those stupid things come back to haunt me.

I respect strength, and I abhor weaknesses. Especially in myself.

Sometimes I wonder why people don't get me, but then I realize that maybe only I will ever really understand Altie.

Words of wisdom

I want my words to sink in
like permanent ink on thin paper.

I want my words to hit home
like a punch to the gut.

I want my words to make a difference
like rain to parched earth.

I want to be an inspiration
to people who need hope.

But in order to do that

My words must leave my mouth.

Leave the paper.

Leave the virtual imagery that is the web.

Fly through the air on wings born of creation.

And find you.

Will my words ever find you, touch you, inspire you?

Or will they remain stuck in my head, unsaid, forever one with me?

You must return from whence you came

What goes up, must come down. It is simple laws of physics. Following that same rule, those who go, must return.

The water is gorgeous. It reminds me of sparkling diamonds. It laps up against the rocks and makes a deafening wooshing sound. There is an ebb and flow to it, a rhythm. This makes sense to me, this I can follow.

I close my eyes and take in the smell and the sound, eliminating my sense of sight. It is so peaceful here, where the world can't touch me. I am listening to my music, but I pause it and listen to the music of the sea instead. I take a deep cleansing breath, count to ten and let it out. I practice breathing slowly and focusing on my body. It is relaxing.

I open my eyes and everything seems much brighter somehow. Whitewashed. I know it is because my eyes were used to the sunlight beating down on me and the respite of closing my eyes made everything appear brighter. But I can believe that the world looks different now, fresher.

I climb over the rocks, looking for the perfect one. This one looks good, so I sit down and try to get comfortable. But it is on a slant and not good for sitting. So I look for a different one. This one is too hard, this one is too narrow. There seems to be a problem with every rock I choose. I force myself to sit still and stop moving so much. I feel like Goldielocks.

I look around me to make sure no one is witnessing my fidgeting. One last rock, and then I stay. In life you can't keep looking at what's better and bigger. As soon as you get what you want, you fantasize about a different one. You have to live in this moment, and not crave the next one to come and replace the current one.

Of course, the second I move rocks, I am suddenly almost certain that the previous one was more comfortable. So many to choose from.

I climb over all the rocks, jumping from one to the next until I get to the edge of the water. Suddenly, I am a little dizzy and nauseous. Suddenly I am not so calm and at peace as I was before. I know how to swim but the vast ocean makes me nervous. What if I fall in and no one can save me? What if I wake up and find myself in middle of the ocean with no land around me at all? I tell myself my fears are unfounded, but I am done standing here. Time to go back to solid ground.

I turn to go back over the rocks, when I realize that all those rocks I had so much fun jumping over are stretched out before me. Somehow it is easier to run away then to return. They are the same rocks but now they look more treacherous, more risky. I pick my way from rock to rock, and remind myself that I've done this before.

It strikes me that when I went the first time, I forgot about the return journey. And now here I am climbing over the same rocks again and praying that I don't fall.

No matter how far you go, you must always return home.

And home is where I am right now, with a much calmer disposition, and two bright red sunburns on my arms to show for my trip today.

 Sunburned arm

 other side of same arm

Contrast. Or as some girls call it, a 'tznius tan'.

Passwords

I try once, then I try again. Sweat starts to form on my forehead, but I push away the nervous feeling creeping over me and I try again. Something is wrong. It has to be. Why is it denying me access? You know me. It's ME! Let me in, what is wrong with you?

I take a deep breath and try again. And again. Access denied. The clock is ticking and I only have a certain amount of tries. What will I do if it doesn't recognize me? How can you do this to me, I CREATED you!

I am banging on the door but it remains locked. It doesn't know who I am, or if it does, it no longer cares. My heart lurches in fear, for if I can't remember, I may remain outside forever.

I search my brain trying to come up with the right combination that it may accept it this time. But I can't. There is too much in my brain swimming around, and it just won't come to me.

It's ironic, really. I created you to keep intruders out, yet you keep me out as well. I am no different to you than a stranger.

Red flashing, access denied, once again I am turned away. I can't remember my password, and in this nightmare, there is nothing I can do but hurl it across the room, slide down the wall onto the floor, and bury my head in my knees.

It's me, Altie. Why can't you just let me in?

My seat at the table

It is a coveted spot every Shabbos. Since I was little, the oldest child home was the one who got it. Of course I was jealous, but I bided my time until it was I who could sit there proudly. But my time never came.

One sister went off to school, but there was still one on top of me. Somehow by the time I was supposed to be the oldest girl home, my older sister was living at home again. I just couldn't catch a break.

But this Shabbos, oh this is going to be great. The only ones home are me and my little brother. The house is so quiet and peaceful. And this Shabbos I will not have to fight for it, that seat is mine by right.

Yes I realize it is because I am the only girl home. But it is still nice.

I get to sit at the head of the table, right near my father. :) Some parts of childhood never go away.

Have a good Shabbos everyone.

Oh Mr. Sun, how we love thee

The sound of the wind rushes past my ears. It is deafening. It swirls around me and plays with the tails of my open sweater, causing it to billow around me. The sun is out, the rain is gone, and it is a glorious day.

Well hello there

It is 6:30 am and I am ready to go to sleep, when most of the East Coast is just waking up. Scratch that, it's a Sunday, give them a few more hours to sleep.

People ask me how I am and I say I'm fine. And that's the honest truth. I'm better than fine.

I couldn't stop smiling since the moment Rabbi told me I'm out of a job. They decided to close down the dorm, so my job there is done. Some people might be devastated by this turn of events, or unsure of what to do next. I can assure you, what comes next in my life is one big question mark. But I am okay with that.

There is a certain beauty in not knowing what comes next. A certain freedom. I am free to go wherever I want, do whatever I want, forge my own path, create my own future, I am free!

And my choice was to stay up all night and sleep all day. Well, I'll figure that out too.

I put my trust in G-d that everything will turn out for the best. Oh don't get me wrong. I am planning as well. Looking for a job, looking for cheap tickets to anywhere so I can take a vacation and get away, thinking about the future.

But there is a part of me that knows that no matter what I do or don't do, G-d has a plan in mind for me. And it was set in motion the second I drove away from Connecticut with all my stuff.

Goodbye past year, hello future.

Hit me with your best shot!

Through the fog

Eyes glued to windshield
hunched forward in the seat
trying to see
trying to stay in control.

There is nothing to see
and no where to go
except for the long winding road
leading nowhere.

Through the trees
twists and turns
the fog so thick
I'm sure I can cut it.

I am scared.
Approaching headlights
may spell my doom.
One mistake is all it takes.

But there is no stopping,
only moving forward, onward.
For the one who stops
may very well be the one to cause the crash.

I hold my breath and keep going.
I am shaking.
Concentration a necessity
holding the wheel tightly.

I want to close my eyes.
Take a break.
Wait till it clears.
But no such relief.

The fog engulfs me
holds me tight
surrounds me.
There is no stopping now.

Will I make it?
Or will I get lost in the fog
forever wandering
trying to find my way back home.

:) :) :)

To think it's been a whole year... 13 months to be exact approximate.

I am of course talking about this. Tonight and tomorrow, the first day of Chol Hamoade is my niece Rochel Leah's first birthday!

My sister and brother in law and niece spent the first days of yom tov with us. It was so nice to see her smile, hear her garbled baby talk, even hear her cry and have diapers in the garbage. It's been a long time since there has been a baby in my family.

She is a gorgeous pretty princess and I love her. (I didn't buy her a birthday present cuz come on, she will never remember anyway. I need to reserve it for when she is older and can actually remember that I am indeed her favorite aunt.)

Happy pesach everyone, and to lots of simchos and happiness.

Star light, star bright

One night I woke up and glanced at the clock. It read 4-something AM. My first thought was what woke me up in the middle of the night? And then I realized something was wrong. I could see the clock. I could read the numbers. It took awhile until my foggy brain cleared, and then I noticed my eyes were dry. I had forgotten to take out my contact lenses before I went to sleep.

The first thing I do when I wake up in the morning, after I shut off my alarm, is to grope blindly for my glasses. Before I put them on, everything is blurry. If I ever have to use the bathroom in middle of the night I usually dont bother to put on my glasses, since I only keep one eye open in the hopes of not actually waking up.

I never really think about it because that is my reality. My world is naturally blurry, unclear. Without my glasses I see shapes and colors, but nothing really makes sense to me. Wearing contact lenses is the closes I will get to having the feeling of normal sight. But every night I have to take them out of my eyes. And once again the world is blurry.

Everyone needs a pair of glasses. Eyes to look through and see the world clearly, as it should be. Without it all we see are vague shapes and outlines. Without it we have no direction, we are lost.

For some people this is their parents, or a teacher, or a rabbi. As a Lubavitcher I turn to the Rebbe for guidance, and my mashpia. Sometimes my parents.

Sometimes when something is unclear for you it is time for a second opinion. A different perspective. You need someone who will be your glasses, who will guide you in what to do and show you what you cannot see.

A joke:

Through the pitch-black night, the captain sees a light dead ahead on a collision course with his ship. He sends a signal: "Change your course 10 degrees east."
The light signals back: "Change yours, 10 degrees west."
Angry, the captain sends: "I'm a navy captain! Change your course, sir!"
"I'm a seaman, second class," comes the reply. "Change your course, sir."
Now the captain is furious. "I'm a battleship! I'm not changing course!"
There's one last reply. "I'm a lighthouse. Your call."

Sometimes we need that light to show us the way. The constant, the one that never moves, never falters. The one that keeps us on course.

Every once in awhile it is good to take stock of our lives and say where am I headed? Am I going in the direction I should be? How do I intend to get there? What tools along the way will help me to my destination, my goal? What is my goal?

Of course it helps to put on our glasses, look at our lives from a different perspective.

And know that if you are ever lost there will always be a light to guide you back home.

Only human

I don't want to go to sleep at 3 am when I know I need to wake up at nine.

I don't want to be upset because my family invited the whole neighborhood to our barbecue and I am not in the mood for company.

I don't want to be tired and moody because I took care of 7 kids today and they are not even mine.

I don't want to bother my little brother and have him bother me back.

I don't want to not help for pesach and have my father be disappointed in me.

I don't want to waste my vacation and then regret it when it's over.

I don't want to be pessimistic all the time.

I don't want to be jealous because someone got their article published.

I don't want to feel threatened by other people's success.

I don't want to be bored and watch meaningless tv shows.

I don't want to write a list of all my faults and moan the fact that my life is going no where.

I don't want to waste the brains G-d gave me and say oh well high school's over I guess I won't learn anything now.

I want someone to believe in me and give me a chance.

I want to believe in myself and give myself a chance.

I want to be happy.

I want to find something to live for.

I want to find purpose and meaning in life.

I want to get high off of life.

But I am only human.

I get tired.

I get cranky.

I get moody.

I am a pessimist.

I am selfish.

I am self destructive.

I create my own obstacles.

I am not the strong person that I know I could be.

I am not doing the best I could do.

I am not even doing a quarter of what I could be doing.

I made this list to make myself feel better about myself.

It is not helping.

It is just an excuse to waste some more time and try to convince others that I am not a loser.

I wish I wish I wish I was a genie.

In other news: some good quotes.

And remember, no matter where you go, there you are. ~Confucius

It is not easy to find happiness in ourselves, and it is not possible to find it elsewhere. ~Agnes Repplier

There comes a morning in life when you wake up a new person; that is to say, you wake up the same person but you realize it's your own fault. ~Robert Brault

We must be our own before we can be another's. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I know well what I am fleeing from but not what I am in search of. ~Michel de Montaigne

To clean or not to clean.

That is the question. I really don't want to. I hate cleaning. Especially when the place is a mess. (It's easy to clean when it's already clean.)

Plus there is so many other things I could be doing. I'm on vacation. I hate pesach cleaning, it is annoying. I wish the house would just clean itself.

The funny thing is, no one even asked me to clean. My mother is not making me, they didn't say "only come home if you are going to help." If I don't help no one will even notice.

But there is this guilt inside of me, and this dreadful feeling I get every year that somehow, our house is just not clean enough.

Thank G-d for the bracha that exonerates us from the chometz.

Now I am off to not clean.

The horror

I'll tell you one thing- spreading my wings and flying is not as awesome as its made out to be.

So I'm all grown up now. I have a job, I make money. I'm independent. It feels great. (So my father pays my cell phone bill, so what?)

Suddenly, about a week ago, Father drops a bombshell on me. He will no longer be paying my cell phone bill. (Okay I can't breath.)

Now I am all on my own.

What to do?

Shop around for no contract cell phone plans. But there are so many. And all of them clain to be the best. Whom to believe?

By now I'm probably an expert.

Virgin mobile, $25/month unlimited text and web, but only 300 minutes. Or $40/month unlimited text and web, with 1200 minutes. Or $60/month unlimited everything.

Metro PCS- ranges from $40-$60/month, unlimited everything.

Boost- $50/month unlimited everything. They also offer a daily plan of just $2/day. Or a minute plan of 10 cents per minute.

Page plus- $29.95/month- 1,200 minutes/ 2,000 text/MMS messages/ 100 MB of Data. Or $44.95/month- unlimited talk and text, but only 20mb of data.

Why am I telling you all this?

Like any smart person would do, I decided to read the reviews on these plans. And I wonder, how can there be two totally different reviews on the same provider? One person praising it to the high heavens, saying it's the best deal he ever had. The next calling it evil and saying they stole his money.

And on and on.

So how do you decide? When there are so many options out there, how can one possibly decide?

It was so much simpler when my father paid the bill and I had my stupid old flip phone. Soon the smartphones will take over the world and my durable flip phone will become extinct.

And in the meantime, I will be without a cell phone once my father cancels his plan.

Oh the joys of growing up.

Close my eyes and take a ride inside

There are words inside me trying to get out but there is something blocking them. Tonight is just not my night. And so many people try to tell me their opinions on this, or how to do this right or that right. I don't know what their point is but I know how it makes me feel. It makes me feel little, like they are stepping on me, putting me down, telling me that the way I have been doing things my whole life is all wrong. And who gave them the right to do that to me?

I am in a world where the truth is hidden and everyone is pushing their way through, trying to figure it out. Everyone interprets things differently, and it is up to me to find my own way, to sift through the rubble of right and wrong and find something to trust in.

That is what I lack. Who do I trust in a world like this? The homeless guy who tells me that if I give him a quarter I will get absolution? The lady who tells me that I should or should not wave my fingers at the flames? My mother who tells me that we peel our vegetables on pesach?

People ask me what my standards are, and I don't know what to tell them. Do I go by what my family does, or should I make up my own stuff? Do I go by what my family does cuz I thought about it and decided it was the right way to do things, or because it is easier than researching and figuring it out myself?

I don't know why I do what I do. I have many questions with no answers. I have so many doubts and uncertainties. The more I think I know, the less confident I feel about it.

I am outside walking alone. There is so much conversation going on in my head. It is late and it is quiet out. The questions and doubts just keep swirling, and my feet hit the pavement with a loud clacking sound that can probably wake the dead.

I want to be inside, somewhere warm, somewhere accepting, but somehow the darkness stretches on and on, and I am very far from home.

In the nighttime

I open my window to get some fresh air. I lay back down and look up at the ceiling, wishing I was laying under the night sky, looking up at the stars.

The sound of cars rushing by comforts me. It is familiar, like home. I wonder where all these people are going at midnight.

I should be sleeping. Little kids are most likely asleep. Teenagers who need to go to school tomorrow are asleep. Even adults who are expected at work tomorrow are in their beds, sleeping.

Then who are these people that are outside now, driving somewhere? Do they have a direction in mind, or are they wandering aimlessly, hoping they will find the place they don’t even know they are looking for?

Are they going home, or leaving home? If it is nighttime, they should be asleep.

Then why do I hear so many cars driving by?

I close my eyes and let the noise wash over me. I laugh at the child in me, wondering all these things. And I hope that child doesn’t disappear, because of all the adults in this world who try to quiet it.

Sleep comes. I have so many questions, so much to learn, but it’ll have to wait until morning.

The longest eight minutes of my life (3/3)

My car is the mini van

The day after the wedding I was exhausted and figured I would sleep in. But that was not meant to be.

The owner of the apartment we were renting rang the bell at 9:25 in the morning to tell us that there were people coming to clean the carpet for pesach at 9:40. Which gave us 15 minutes. She apologized saying she booked them 2 months ago, she asked them to come in the afternoon but they said she was the first on the route. I thought it was rude since we were guests and paying for the place. Imagine staying at a hotel where they make you get up so they can change the sheets.

I was tired and bleary eyed and still in pajamas when these 2 frum guys walk in. They tell us we can go back to sleep after they finish, but by that time the noise had woken me up. And the carpets were soaking wet.

We all got dressed and then I asked my father if I could drive the car to my house. He said it was fine but to keep an eye on it for signs of anything unusual. (This was the car that was in an accident.) At this point I had still not spoken to the rabbi about the car, he wasn’t answering his phone. And then when he did talk to me he told me to drive it back to New Haven and he would take care of it there. But my father felt that after an accident it might not be safe to drive.

It got to my house ok. My aunt needed to go to the airport at 2 so I volunteered to drive her. The car fine most of the way there. But then I noticed it started doing this thing where I would press on the gas and it would rev up but it wouldn’t get into gear. So it wasn’t doing anything. I didn’t do anything about it until I left the airport to go home.

I decided not to take the belt parkway and for some reason went the wrong way and ended up way out of my way. I programmed the GPS which told me it would take 34 minutes to get home from where I was, which is the same amount as from the airport. I had driven totally out of my way. I made a U-turn, stopped for a red light, and that was it. The car wouldn’t go. I was stuck in the right lane, there was an emergency lane right next to me but my car wouldn’t move. I put on my hazard lights and people still beeped at me.

I called my father who told me it was most likely a problem with the transmission. I had to cross a really busy street to get to the gas station on the other side. (Sounds like a joke.) Bought transmission fluid, walked back, saw a cop taking a look inside my car. I signaled to him that it was my car. He helped me push it to the side. Then he left.

I put in the transmission fluid, got in and started the engine- and thank G-d it drove! There was smoke coming from the hood but my father said it was probably cuz I spilled some fluid in the engine. He told me to drive it home and stick to the right lane.

It gave me trouble all the way home. It would go, then it would stop. And I kept praying that after the stress of the past few days I would just get home safely with no more hassle.

The longest eight minutes of my life. The GPS said there were eight minutes left until I got home. I said tanya by heart the whole way, the same perek over and over in a loop. I hoped it would help. “Please G-d just let me get home okay, Please G-d just let me get home okay.”

Thank G-d. I got home and parked the car.

Then I spoke to the rabbi about what to do with the car. That was a very unpleasant conversation. I will not repeat what he said since it wasn’t very nice.

I took the train back to Connecticut. The car is parked on my block. The transmission is leaking any fluid I put into it. I am no mechanic but it would be safe to assume there’s something wrong with the car.

I don’t like dealing with stressful situations. I am not calm. I get nervous. Sometimes I cry. But then I pick myself up and do what I have to do, cuz if not who will do it for me.

And through it all I pray to G-d to give me the strength to get through this.

And of course, I hit number 3 speed dial on my phone, and listen to my father’s comforting voice, and let him tell me what to do. And I know he won't let me down.

The dress crisis (2/3)

Wedding day. I wake up from my alarm at 8:30 and turn over, wishing I could go back to sleep. But there’s lots to do today. Manicures, eat lunch, hair make-up get dressed, pictures. We are on a tight schedule. Since the dorm car was parked and undrivable, my brother was driving back and forth all day picking up, dropping off. (My brother who is 17 and only has a permit. Who scraped someone’s car and caused my mother a lot of anxiety since he was the only one driving which is illegal.)

After manicure and pedicure I am running late. I keep getting phone calls while my nails are still wet and of course I can’t answer them. Someone comes to pick me up. I have to run to the apartment where I was staying to pick up my dress and shoes and anything else I will need. I’m starving since I missed lunch. My sister grabs me a bagel.

We get to the hall. The make-up lady starts on my sister first while I get my hair done. We can’t decide what to do. Up, down, half up, half down. The lady doing my hair tells me to try on my dress to see which hairstyle will look good with it. I ask my sister to zip me up. The zipper gets stuck at one point and won’t go up the whole way. Three people give it a try and suddenly the zipper breaks. This is great.

For some reason, last week I was freaking out about the dress I bought for the wedding. It was green when all my other sisters and my mother found purple. Which was fine with me. But it was sleeveless, and for some reason I thought a long sleeve lace shirt would look good with it. After buying my own material and deciding against making a shirt, I found one online for… $50. I bought it and it came. I tried it on with the dress.

It looked horrible. The lace was all wrong with the material. There’s no way to describe it besides that I was panicking. Not knowing what to do but knowing I was desperate, I ran to the mall, tried on a few dresses and bought one. Here’s the funny part- it was purple.

I called my mother to tell her the whole story and she convinced me that I was just nervous, that she would buy a plain cream colored shirt and it would look good with the green dress, that I should keep the purple one just in case but not wear it. I already got the green one hemmed, didn’t seem nice to waste it after all that effort.

So I brought the purple one with me just in case. It was my ‘back-up dress’. And I ended up wearing it.

My brother came to pick me up. I had to run to Kingston to buy a black shirt to go underneath the purple dress since I hadn’t foreseen needing one. I’m in a jean skirt and sweater, my make-up is professionally done, (and gorgeous), my hair is half done. I cannot imagine what people thought. All I kept thinking was, wedding crisis.

I ran to get my purple dress from the apartment, ran back to the hall, tried it on, and everyone agreed it looked perfect, I would fit right in with my family, it was hashgacha pratis that I bought it and brought it with me. So I finished getting my hair done and all was well.

The wedding was great. My brother was his usual unusual self. He wore a kappatah but with a vest underneath it and he made it look like a morning coat worn by British men long ago. He wore a flower on the lapel. And his signature top hat.

The kallah was gorgeous. I cried a little after the chuppah when it hit me that he was married. It was a fun wedding, and the best part was when my mother came out with 60 plastic top hats and gave them out to the guys to wear while dancing.

Oh and we played ‘pass the niece around’. My one and only gorgeous niece who is ka’’h one years old.

My aunt was there, and my mom’s best friends since she was 6 came with her daughter. We all had a really nice time.

So that was the story of the dress crisis. Part 3 coming soon.

The longest eight minutes of my life

Part 1/3

I cry when I'm stressed. I don't know why. I wish I could be tougher, like guys. But when I can't deal with something, first I scream and then I cry.

Friday was a stressful day. It started out in Connecticut. I drove to New York and the traffic wasn't that bad. By the time I dropped off all the girls it was 3:30 and Shabbos started at 7:02. I figured I'd go run some errands before I went home. This was after a 2 hour drive.

I went to 2 gas stations, 2 drug stores and one other store, and had problems with my debit card at every one of them. I called the bank frantic thinking there's something wrong with my account... until I realized I was using my card for my savings account and not my checking account, therefore my pin was wrong and that's why I had declined transactions. So I went back to all those stores and made the purchases again.

5:00.

I get home, eat something cuz I'm starving. My mother wanted to go over to the apartment I was staying at for shabbos. Since we were having relatives for the wedding she rented a guest apartment and wanted me to stay there. So we go over there and I put my stuff down.

5:30.

I go to pick up my friend who was staying with me for shabbos so I wouldn't be alone since the guests were only coming motzei shabbos. Swing around the block. I didn't find parking. Went around the block, and saw a space... only it was down the block on a one way street so I had to go around the block again to get it, and I didn't want to lose it so I made my friend get out of the car and run to stand in the space so I wouldn't lose it.

5:50.

I was at a stop sign. The car behind me beeped. I started going, I looked right, couldn't see much cuz there were cars parked blocking my view down the street.

The car came out of no where. I remember thinking, that car is going to hit me. And then it did.

5:55.

Everything was happening so fast. It was like swirls, only all dark colors. It felt like bumper cars when they hit you on purpose, only it's not fun at all. I slammed into the door, and then the steering wheel. The other car dragged my car for a bit and I slammed on the brakes and thought, I can't hit hat parked car. And then I kept thinking, oh G-d oh G-d, how much money is this gonna cost. It's not my car.

After that a lot happened.

My friend ran over to see if I was okay. I called 911. A frum lady ran downstairs. She called shomrim. I called my father. And I cried.

6:00.

Shomrim came first. They asked me if I was ok. I kept saying I was fine. The car was a bit banged up but the other guys car was worse. He looked fine too. He had a passenger in his car who needed medical assistance but she was conscious.

The police came. Asked for license and registration and insurance.

Hatzala came. Asked if I was ok. I still said I was fine.

6:15.

I asked the police if I could run inside to use the bathroom.

I asked them how long it was gonna take.

The photographer from crownheights.info came. He got his information wrong. He said there were 2 girls in the car. But it was just me. I was hit on the passenger side and thank G-d my friend wasn't in the car.

6:25.

I keep looking at the time thinking, shabbos is coming, this is taking forever. I need to take a shower.

I ask the police nicely if I could go inside and take a shower and come back. He said no.

6:40.

The police are done. They wrote up a report. I don't know what it said. I told them it wasn't my fault.

6:45.

My chest is hurting. Also my shoulder is sore. I tell them maybe I'm not fine after all. They say maybe I should call hatzala.

The hatzala guy comes and tries to convince me to go to the hospital. But it's almost shabbos, I just want to take a shower and it's probably nothing.

6:50.

They tell me to get into the back of the ambulance. I wonder how I could go to the hospital on shabbos. I wonder if I am being stupid and it is really nothing. I wonder how I could not light shabbos candles when I've lit them every week since I was three.

The guy says it's my life and the worst that can happen is it is nothing but it wasn't a waste of a trip.

My phone rings. It says home. I pick it up expecting my mother. It's my brother. My brother who doesn't talk to me. My brother who doesn't care. He asks me how I am. I tell him they are saying I should go to the hospital but I don't want to. He tells me to go to the hospital and he is coming with me.

I cry again.

My friend runs inside to put down our purses and phones since most likely we will walk back on shabbos.

I am strapped to a gurney riding in the back of an ambulance for the first time, sirens blaring and all.

I think, at least it's an experience.

7:22.

It is shabbos and I am in the hospital.

After a 2 hour wait I am discharged. Just like I thought, it was nothing, just a bit of pain and soreness. They give me motrin.

We walk back. It is a 45 minute walk. I am in my jean skirt. I wonder what people think when they see me. But now I know you can't judge.

I get home. It is shabbos. My family is in middle of a meal. My mother hugs me and cries. I am done crying for one day.

Baruch Hashem it was not a serious accident. My first and hopefully last.

Shabbos was restful even though I wish I had gotten a chance to take a shower.

Sunday was wedding day... more excitement to come in the next installment of 'The longest eight minutes of my life."

The script that keeps on giving

What is it like to have your thoughts, your words come alive before your eyes?

It feels like tonight.

As I watch these girls on stage, playing out the script that I wrote, portraying the characters that I created, but each in their own way, it is a strange feeling.

This is the 3rd time that my script has been used as a play. (4th, if you count the school that didn't ask permission.) But it's the first time I actually sat in the audience and watched it.

These girls are magnificent. It is very different than the original school who did it. Every person plays the part how they see it in their mind. They add their own flavor to it.

They changed it some from the original script, made it more into a musical than a play. But they did a great job at it, I really enjoyed watching it. It was a nice feeling to watch it and know that I wrote it.

Despite the girls Principal's encouragement, I don't see Broadway in my future. But hey, when I wrote this script as a 12th grader just trying to use her talent- I never envisioned it would go this far.

Never limit yourself.

G-d and the GPS

Whenever I leave my house, I program my GPS. I am terrible when it comes to directions. If I need to meet someone in a certain place, I tell them to give me the address, and I will just punch it into the GPS. It is easier than trying to puzzle out directions. Do I go right or left here? I just wait for the persistent yet sometimes annoying voice of my GPS to announce, “In 400 yards, turn right. Then, go straight.”

My father is good with directions. Somehow he instinctively knows where he is and how to get to another destination from there. I thank the person who created the GPS, even though it gives me an excuse to not have to think while I’m driving. I don’t multi-task very well.

The thing about my GPS is it takes a few minutes to find my location. When I leave my house, I have to have some general idea of where I am going, and then the GPS will pick me up along the way. If I don’t even know if I need to go right or left, then I might as well stop on the side of the road until the GPS finds a signal. Does that make the GPS useless to me? No, because even if it doesn’t help me at first, it eventually finds me and shows me the way.

I used to say to G-d, “Tell me where to go from here. Just point me in the direction you want me to go, and I will go there. That is all I am asking of you. That is not so hard, right?” Sometimes I get stuck and I need direction. Sometimes I feel like I am at a crossroads in life. There is a fork in the road and I don’t know whether to go right or left. I sit in the road and wait for some bright neon sign saying, “This way to redemption!” But for some reason it never comes.

It started me thinking. Maybe G-d wants me to put in some effort. We are brought down to this earth for a reason, and we all have a purpose here. I wish I was given a guidebook along with my life, maybe a little preview, and a peek at what is to come next. It would be so reassuring to know that tomorrow everything will be okay, that in five years from now I will be doing this or that, and that it doesn’t matter where I am now. So many times I have asked G-d, so what now? And I have drawn a blank.

There is a well-known saying, “Open up a hole the size of a needle, and G-d will open a hole like the doors of a wedding hall.” (Pischu li pesach shel machat v'ani eftach lachem pischo shel ulam.) That is all that He asks of us. Just try. Do a little bit. Leave your house and pick a destination. Don’t rely on the GPS to get you there. Don’t rely solely on G-d to give you direction and figure out your life. He is relying on us. G-d is waiting for us to make that first move, even if we just move our big toe. G-d wants to see that we are putting in the effort and that we are not waiting around for someone else to do the work, for someone else to live our lives.

And only then will He pick us up. Only then will He light the way for us, push away all obstacles, and escort us Himself to the finish line.

I used to think that maybe G-d wants me to fail. He leaves me on my own, right? Maybe He is just watching and waiting for me to stumble.

But He doesn’t want us to fail. He just wants us to try.

Like the size of a needle hole. You have to make the first move. Like lifting weights, it might seem very hard at first. But once you lift that heavy burden, G-d will pick it up and make it lighter.

I never leave my house without my GPS. And I never leave my house without a prayer to G-d first. I don’t ask Him to show me the way anymore. Now, I ask Him to give me the strength, wisdom and clarity to find the way.

I still have not seen that neon sign yet, but somehow I know G-d is listening.

Just jump

My toes touch the edge

as I look over

into the yawning darkness

the abyss so deep I can't see the bottom.

My heart lurches in fear

as a voice urges me to go forward

and another pleads with me to stay.

What to do?

I can't go back.

Can never go back.

The only place to go is forward.

But I am stuck in place, can't move.

Fear of the unknown.

A paralyzing all-encompassing fear.

Fear of falling.

But a bigger fear of never moving at all.

Jump.

Just jump.

Take the plunge.

You can do it.

It's like a game.

Playing with fire.

Only it's not fun.

And it's not really a game.

Advance, and then recede.

Testing the waters.

Getting my toes wet.

But then returning to my familiar surroundings.

Not wanting to leave my comfort zone

to shatter my illusion of peace.

But if I don't move

here is where I will stay forever.

It is not really a question.

Hesitation.

Momentary glitch.

A pause.

I know what I will do.

Eventually.

The question is how long it will take me

to get up and go.

But for now

I stand here

looking into the eye of the unknown

wondering how my life will turn out

if I never move from here.

I hold my breath

and take the plunge.

Because I have no other choice

but to jump.

Your fault

No one can fault you for having no brains,
For looking so plain,
For walking away
When it hurts so bad, when you can’t take the pain.

No one can fault you for missing the train,
For using a cane,
For going insane
For driving so slow in the fast lane.

But when you turn the bend
And your life has ended
What will you say
For every day
That you’ve lived this way?

And if they ask you why
And you say you didn’t try
Don’t bother to cry
Don’t bother to lie
It won’t help you on high.

No one can fault you for things you can’t do
For weaknesses in yourself
For disabilities.

No one can fault you for missed opportunities
For words you never said
For books you’ve never read.

No one can fault you for staying at home
For living your life
For paying no heed to another’s plight.

No one can fault you for being sad
For getting mad
For being depressed and feeling nothing at all.

But those people who tell you that it’s okay
That you did your best
That you are fine and don’t need to do anymore-
They are wrong.

Because it is your fault.

For not trying
For not caring
For coming late
For being hateful.

It is your fault for not being there
For being selfish
For not doing when you should have done.

For screaming
For not changing
For staying in bed when there were people who needed you.
For believing them when they told you it was enough.

No one can fault you for things you can’t do.
But they can fault you for things you can do but don’t.

And most of all,
It is your fault
For not trying.

Don’t live your life blaming everyone and everything else
When all along it was your own fault for how your life turned out
Cuz you never tried at all.

NOT stuck in the moment

Contrary to Justin Bieber's song, I am not stuck in the moment. Sometimes I wonder where I'm going and where I will end up. But then I remember that just as I came from somewhere, so I will go somewhere.

It is reassuring and calming to read stuff I've previously written. It makes me feel real. sometimes I forget who I am. I forget that who I am right now was not who I always was, nor is it who I will always be. I forget that I once had goals, dreams, visions, plans. I forget where I was going.

I get stuck here, in this moment and I feel detached from past me, and future me. I feel trapped in present me. It is a feeling of desperation; that this is who I am and where I am and I will remain here forever.

And then memories flit into my mind. Of other times and places. Of thoughts I once had but are now forgotten.

It is so easy to get caught up in the moment, in this physical world and forget where you are headed.

But I remind myself of things. Things I've written, things I've tried hard to forget, and put out of my mind.

I know that just as there are experiences I try to forget, there are as many, and more that I yearn to remember, to relive.

I, in this moment, am only a minuscule part of my life, my existence, my purpose.

I don't feel stuck anymore, and I'm not. I know there is more to come, much more I don't know about yet.

I look forward to it, to the rest of my life, and looking back on this moment in rememberance some ten years down the line.

My memories and my writing are what keep me whole, and makes sure that I never forget who I once was, and who I am destined to be.

This moment- it is but a grain of sand in time.

Happy Purim!

So I am home for purim, and my throat is hurting a lot. I got a cold for the second time in 2 weeks and now I can hardly swallow. Don't worry, soon I will take nighttime cold and flu medicine and it will knock me out for the night. I just hope I can get up in the morning for megilla and not be all woozy.

I packed my 6 shaloch manoses. I was only gonna make 2, but then the list just kept on growing. Of course my family buys cases of stuff so if anyone pops by that I didn't intend to give, I can just throw something together.

I was not gonna dress up this year, cuz I'm not into costumes really. But then I decided to pull something together, so now I'm a cowgirl, with straw hat, bandanna, jean jacket pigtail braids and all. I can see why some people enjoy dressing up, because it was fun once I decided to do it, but I don't generally dress up.

Hope everyone has a fun-filled purim. Drink a lechaim, but no more than four. Make sure to give tzedaka and think of someone else. You can donate online here. It is for matanos levyonim in Israel, and they will give out the money on Purim.

A freilechin (happy) purim to all!

p.s. Despite the fact that I was sick, I had a happy purim after all. My friend dressed as a hippy, and we had fun distributing our shaloch manoses together. Hope everyone's purim was just as great, or better.

I found this t-shirt cute

The Search

The search for the perfect dress...

The search for the perfect material to fix up the not-so-perfect dress...

The search for the shoes... (thank G-d that was easy.)

The search for the seamstress to work on the might-be-perfect dress...

The hope that everything will look perfect...

The nonchalant attitude that it won't matter and I don't care how I look either way...

(The knowledge that that's a lie...)

The clock is ticking. Tick tock tick tock.

The wedding is in twenty days...

Is it worth it?

Is a memory worth $1500? Is it worth anything?

Is a picture worth a thousand words? Is it worth $1500?

How can you ask me how important it is to me? What would you do if you lost everything? Would you try your hardest, pay any price to retrieve it, to fix it?

You tell me- how can you put a price on a memory?

So high, so low

It feels so high, this feeling coursing through me. It's like a bubble inside of me ready to burst. My head feels like it's gonna explode. Nervous energy making me jittery, like I am high on something, coffee maybe, or something stronger.

I type so fast, write so fast my hands are shaking.

I can't sit still, my heart beats rapidly, palms sweaty. Foot tapping nervously. Need a release, what to do with this excess energy?

I am excited, for something inevitable, something happening really soon, or maybe far off in the future, or not at all. But whatever it is it has me tied in knots.

Talking to so many people, conversations flying, doing so many things at once. My brain won't stop moving, one thought following closely on the heels of the previous one.

But suddenly, it is late. It is nighttime and dark outside, and the voices in my ear are far away, not close by with me.

Suddenly I look around me. I am in my own little room alone. Everything starts to die down. My nervous system depresses, my energy drains away.

Like gravity, like everything in life, what goes up must come down.

And so my high is over, and next comes the low.

After a high like that,

You

Just

Can't

Help

But

F
A
L
L.

How important is it?

When all is (not) lost

(I wrote this post yesterday, with my emotions still raw. After I wrote it, I read my nightly thought from the book "Don't look down" by Rabbi Michael Haber, and the thought tied in perfectly with this post. I will give a synopsis below. (Due to the copyright in the book, I am just saying in my own words what I read. I am not attempting to copy or plagiarize or the like.)
Oftentimes the passage I read at night coincides with what I am feeling, or what happened that day. There are answers everywhere, you just have to look for them.)

The story goes that there was an ice sculpting contest taking place in a dessert. The sculptors worked all day on their creations, and put a lot of work into it. A stranger passing by who viewed this was puzzled and asked them why they were working so hard on something that would quickly melt.

The sculptor said to him, of course we know that. Look at the sign over there. The sign read, "HOW IMPORTANT IS IT?"

The artist explained, throughout life things come and go. Jobs, cars, houses, money. We get upset over little things, petty things, physical things. The ice sculpting contest reminds us that these things don't really matter. Why should I get upset over something that years from now won't even matter?

Ask yourself, how important is it?

After reading that it really put my attitude into perspective. Here's my original post:

It's like losing your whole life in a day. Okay, not your whole life, I'm exaggerating. But somehow it just feels that way.

How can one stupid mistake change everything? Actually there were a few more mistakes before this one that makes it all the more upsetting. I hate when things change and I can't fix them, can't change it back.

I dropped my laptop yesterday. The hard drive broke. I have to buy a new one and reinstall all the programs that were on there before, including Windows 7 which I will probably have to buy now, since it came free with my laptop.

The stupid mistakes I made leading up to this was:
1. I did not buy an extended warranty or insurance on my laptop.
2. (the worst mistake I could have made) I did not back up my hard drive. That is why I am now paying $80 in the hopes that my files, or some of them can be recovered.

I foresee a lot if money payouts in the near future.

It is hard to keep a positive attitude in a situation like this. I feel powerless, and I hate feeling that way. I know it is just a laptop and my whole life isn't lost, but there is a lot on that laptop that was valuable to me. It is like hiding a whole bunch if diamonds and coming back to discover they are all gone.

Needless to say it was a miserable day for me.

It is rosh chodesh Adar bais and I am not happy. I know I am supposed to be but it is hard. We made a really cute art yesterday. It was inspired by the preschool class. (fun for adults too.) You take a big cardboard paper. Cut out a shape using contact paper, then peel it and stick it onto the cardboard. Then you pour water color paint onto the cardboard, and blow it around with a straw. It will give the cardboard a cool tie-dyed kind of look. Then when it is dry you peel off the contact paper, and your shape will stand out bright against the colorful background. Try it, it's really cool and fun to make.

Mine was a smiley face with the words, "it's all good" around it. Yes, I try to remember that all the time but sometimes it stays outside my brain and doesn't seep in like it's supposed to.

I try to remember that everything that happens is hashgacha pratis, and everything happens for a reason. But a voice whispers in my ear, "na that's only for the really big things, not something small like this". But I know better.

I wonder why this had to happen. Was it punishment for something I did? Was it to teach me a lesson?

Or was it a test for me to pass, to rise above the pain and realize that all is not lost? That I am still me, I am healthy, I have money and food and a place to live, I am taken care of, I have family and friends, and a whole life ahead if me.

It is still upsetting that from one little thing everything changes. It is something I struggle with constantly. What if? What if I hadn't dropped my laptop? What if I had backed up my files like Mcafee has been warning me about for months? What if this never happened and I didn't have to ponder the reason why?

But it did and I do. I don't know why things happen. But I do believe that some things are beyond my comprehension. And I know that G-d is in control and He knows way better than I will ever know.

I will hang up my painting, and every time I look at it I will remember this, that all is not lost, and it's all good.

And even when it doesn't seem that way, I know it will be okay.

Food for thought

I like the quote of the day today: "We cannot teach people anything; we can only help them discover it within themselves." -Galileo Galilei

Sometimes people don't even realize what kind of strengths or talents they possess. It takes experiences, and people around them to help them discover it.

Another thing I have learned in life: always look ahead, because looking back will get you nowhere, and you might bump into a wall. Some people dwell on the past. But then, you are not really living.

On the other hand, don't rush your life, because it'll be over before you know it and you will not even have enjoyed it.

I counted 15 weeks until the end of the school year. 15 weeks until my job is done. There is a lot of good things happening in the near future. Things to look forward to. But if you look too far ahead you trip over what is right in front of you.

My grandmother keeps asking me what I have planned for next year. (She can't wait to hear that I will be going back to college.) My answer every time is, I have no idea. Next year is one big question mark. I don't like planning so far ahead because plans fall through. And of course, sometime we plan things to the T, but G-d has a different plan for us.

So what I'm saying is, just live life and enjoy every day. Don't look back, don't look forward, just live in the moment and make lasting memories.

Have a good Shabbos.