Election Day

You told me what you thought,

You told me what to say,

You prepared me in depth

For that awaited day.

You gave me pamphlets and notes,

You had me memorize the lines,

You made me spit them back to you,

In that god-awful rhyme.

You told me that you know best,

For me and our country,

You even gave me a special cheat sheet,

You quizzed me on it daily.

Quickly that day came near,

I rapidly grew with fear,

But you reassured me

That it would all be clear.

In that polling booth I stood,

Not knowing what to do.

I was finally all alone,

They didn't let me come with you.

I thought of all you told me,

I thought about what you said.

I considered the other candidate,

But was stopped by your voice in my head.

I closed my eyes and pulled the lever,

Hoping to make you proud.

I thought of the name we spoke about,

I said it to myself aloud.

You talk about this great country,

In words hushed and revered.

You tell me of the freedom it gives,

That we no longer have what to fear.

But you never gave me a choice

You never taught me how to think, how to do,

You simply showed me how to follow you blind.

Now I, am a copy of you.

4 years gone by (And still as awesome as ever!)

I'd like to thank my parents, who raised me to be the amazing person that I am today. I'd like to thank my Nana (Hi Nana!) and the little girl who pulled my hair when I was 5. I'd like to thank my dead cat Louie, who I know is watching over me from his grave. Wow, this is such an honor.

4 years. That is a long time to stick to anything, especially blogging. When I started my blog, (I love flashing back to the beginning. It is always important to remember where you came from.) I wrote long essays, inspirational thoughts, trying to share something with the world and inspire people. Over time, it has evolved into a diary of sorts, a way to express myself when I needed to most.

Thank you all for listening, and for reading. My journey is by far not over yet, I still have a ways to go. But I have gained so much through this blog. I have grown, I have learned about myself, I have gone through some rough times, some amazing times, and everything in between.

I have met some great people who I can call 'friends', some people who have caused a lot of drama in my life, and some who were just plain creepy.

If I have inspired even one person through my 4 years of blogging, it'll have all been worth it.

And I have. Myself. I have learned, I have grown, I have discovered things about myself that I never knew, I have experimented. It has been and still is an amazing journey.

My voice cannot be silenced, for as long as I am living, I will always have what to say.

Thank you for reading, and I hope that this year will bring amazing things and lots of blessings for everyone!

Here's to another successful year of blogging!

Keep moving forward

Sometimes I find myself stuck in certain areas in life. Career, relationships, personal struggles. I hate being stuck on one problem for too long. I like to find a solution and bump it out of the park. Done.

But not everything has an instant solution. Some people end up dealing with the same problem their whole lives. I don't necessarily think that is healthy. I don't believe a person should be in therapy for years dealing with the same problem. Yes, I believe in conflict resolution, but not if it takes you a lifetime.

Sometimes all one needs is a change. A change in routine, a new job, a change of scene, a change of friends.

On a computer sometimes you have to refresh a page if it is working slowly in order for it to operate properly. In a relationship sometimes you need to step up your game, 'spice things up', to keep it fresh and healthy.

Same in every day life. If you are feeling moody, depressed, for no particular reason, maybe it is time for a change. Learn a musical instrument. Try a new hobby. Take a class. Join a book club. Get out there, meet new people, reexamine your goals and start working on something that you have been putting off. Maybe it is time for a career change.

It is not healthy to be stuck in life. You have to keep moving forward, keep growing. And you can do it. Start with something small. Or something big.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. And it's about time I start living it right.

I love you

You're the one who makes me laugh through my tears,
You're the one who reassures me despite my fears.

You're the one who tells me that everything will be okay,
You're the one who's there for me at the end of the day.

You're the one I run to when things go bad,
You're the one I want to talk to when I'm feeling sad.

You're the one who listens when I call,
You're the one who's there with me throughout it all.

You're the one who's strong when I am weak,
You're the one who's silent when I speak.

You're the one who makes me feel alright,
You're the one I know will hug me tight.

You're the one who smiles when I arrive,
You're the one who's glad that I'm alive.

You're the one, the only one, who's a part of me,
You're the one who holds the key, to set me free.

Fiction is better than reality

I love reading a good book. A feeling comes over you, of actually falling into the book. You feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the story, it draws you in, until the world falls away. You forget about everything, you forget your hunger, you forget your responsibilities, and all you want to do is read, and find out where the enthralling story will take you.

I like fiction because it allows you to experience a different world, a world that is unreal, a world that does not exist and never will. Whether one enjoys science fiction, horror, thrillers, mysteries, or romance, there are stories for everyone. Books allow you to forget about your own life for awhile, put your worries on hold. They distract you. Sometimes distraction is exactly what you need, so you can return to your life refreshed and renewed.

But be sure not to read any scary books before bedtime, unless you like sleeping with the lights on.

So go ahead, put aside the laundry, the dishes, the homework, and curl up in your favorite chair in your comfortable sweats, with a really good book, and let yourself get lost for awhile.

Don't worry, reality will be waiting for you when you get back.

Eat. Pray. Love.

The book, Eat, Pray, Love is a memoir written by Elizabeth Gilbert. It is the story of a woman's spiritual journey after a painful divorce.

It starts off with the author writing how unhappy and depressed she was in her marriage, to the point of spending nights sleeping on her bathroom floor. There is one part of the book that I really like, at the very beginning. For her, I think, that is where it all began.

Here is an excerpt: (No Copyright infringement intended)

     Of course, I've had a lot of time to formulate my opinions about divinity since that night on the bathroom floor when I first spoke directly to God. In the middle of that dark November crisis, though, I was not interested in formulating views on theology. I was interested only in saving my life. I had finally noticed that I'd reached a state of hopelessness and life-threatening despair, and it occurred to me that sometimes people in this state will approach God for help. I think I'd read that in a book somewhere.

What I said to God through my gasping sobs was something like this: "Hello, God; how are you? I'm Liz. It's nice to meet you."

That's right—I was speaking to the creator of the universe as though we'd just been introduced at a cocktail party. But these are the words I always use at the beginning of a relationship. In fact, it was all I could do to stop myself from saying, "I've always been a big fan of your work..."

"I'm sorry to bother you so late at night," I continued. "But I'm in serious trouble. And I'm sorry I haven't ever spoken directly to you before, but I hope I have always expressed ample gratitude for all the blessings you've given me in my life."

This thought caused me to sob even harder. God waited me out. I pulled myself together enough to go on: "I'm not an expert at praying, as you know. But I am in desperate need of help. I don't know what to do. I need an answer. Please tell me what to do. Please tell me what to do. Please tell me what to do..."

And so the prayer narrowed itself down to that simple entreaty— Please tell me what to do, repeated again and again. I don't know how many times I begged. I only know that I begged like someone who was pleading for her life. And the crying went on forever.

Until—quite abruptly—it stopped.

Quite abruptly, I found that I was not crying anymore. I'd stopped crying, in fact, in mid-sob. My misery had been completely vacuumed out of me. I lifted my forehead off the floor and sat up in surprise, wondering if I would now see some Great Being who had taken my weeping away. But nobody was there. I was just alone. But not really alone, either. I was surrounded by something I can only describe as a little pocket of silence—a silence so rare that I didn't want to exhale, for fear of scaring it off. I was seamlessly still. I don't know when I'd ever felt such stillness.

Then I heard a voice. Please don't be alarmed—it was not an Old Testament Hollywood Charlton Heston voice, nor was it a voice telling me I must build a baseball field in my backyard. It was merely my own voice, speaking from within my own self. But this was my voice as I'd never heard it before. This was my voice, but perfectly wise, calm, and compassionate. This was what my voice would sound like if I'd only ever experienced love and certainty in my life. How can I describe the affection in that voice, as it gave me the answer that would forever seal my faith in the divine?

The voice said: Go back to bed, Liz.

I exhaled.

It was so immediately clear this was the only thing to do. I wouldn't have accepted any other answer. I wouldn't have trusted a great booming voice that said either: You Must Divorce Your Husband! or You Must Not Divorce Your Husband! Because that's not true wisdom. True wisdom gives the only possible answer at any given moment, and, that night, going back to bed was the only possible answer. Go back to bed, said this omniscient interior voice, because you don't need to know the final answer right now, at 3 o'clock in the morning on a Thursday in November. Go back to bed, because I love you. Go back to bed, because the only thing you need to do for now is rest and take good care of yourself until you do know the answer. Go back to bed, so that, when the tempest comes, you'll be strong enough to deal with it. And the tempest is coming, dear one. Very soon. But not tonight. Therefore:

Go back to bed, Liz.

We know that there are many stages in life. There is:

"A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break, and a time to build;
A time to cry, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
 A time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to discard; 
A time to tear, and a time to sew; a time to be silent, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace."

 And sometimes, there is another time. A time to simply, go to sleep. You can't solve all your problems in one night. So put them aside. Do what is physically and emotionally best for you. Go to sleep.

And trust in Hashem that He will help you make the right decisions, to start you on your own journey.

I need you to need me

I want you to want me.
I need you to need me.
I'd love you to love me.
I'm beggin' you to beg me.

Everyone wants to feel needed, sometimes to the point of desperation. Some people have the need to help everyone, even those who do not want help or cannot be helped. If you stick out your hand to a person to help them up and they refuse, leave them be. Why do you have the need to push or force yourself on them, telling them, convincing them, that they need your help? Who are you really trying to help, them, or yourself? Some people do acts of 'kindness' only because it makes them feel good about themselves. They are giving only for what they will gain through it.

Everyone wants to feel wanted. It is the most horrible feeling to want/like someone and not have that feeling returned. Ask anyone who was ever rejected in their lives. Some people try to convince themselves that maybe one day the feelings will be reciprocated, if they only stick with it, or try to make that person see how much they are meant for each other. To them I say, at the end of your rainbow is waiting a pot full of pain.

Everyone wants to be loved. More than a desire, it is a necessity. I have heard of countless teenage love stories, and I roll my eyes and say, that is not love, it is a crush/obsession. Some people never find love, or they don't even know what they are looking for. Some people convince themselves that they don't need love, or worse that they don't deserve it, which is why they stick around with someone who clearly doesn't love them and never will. And to them I say, you deserve so much better.

To all those out there looking for love, just waiting for your Prince Charming to come along- I beg you not to settle for less. Because you deserve the real deal, not some washed out version of the truth.

And he is out there somewhere, waiting for you.

Following (Former hurricane) Sandy

Will you be staying up all night with cookies and hot cocoa, nice and dry inside while you hear the wind howling outside? I can't help feeling like the whole world is in suspension. Who knows when this will end.

Follow the live news coverage here.

Flashback to last summer, spending the hurricane in New Haven, being shut in, no power, no trains, missing my close friend's wedding. Miserable.

Pro's of the hurricane:

- No work
- I feel like a little kid on a snow day
- Perfect weather to fly kites

Cons:

-Boredom
-Being shut in all day
-Feeling like the world has disappeared outside.

UPDATE: "Just before it was expected to blow ashore in the evening, the National Hurricane Center announced that it considered Sandy no longer a hurricane but a wintry hybrid known as a post-tropical storm." Hopefully this will be over soon.

Stay safe, and get your floaties ready!!

Short guys and sissy boys

Short guys are cute. Like 'put-you-in-my-pocket' cute. I have already determined that I cannot marry a short guy because I look down upon them. (Pun intended.)

I'm not tall. I'm of average height, though for a female some might say I am above average. Either way, there are plenty of tall guys out there, I know because I've seen them. And yet somehow really tall guys end up with really short girls and leaves us all wondering- why couldn't the short girls have left the tall guys for the taller girls and marry short guys instead? Short guys can marry tall girls but it is not so common, especially being that some guys feel intimidated or emasculated by taller girls. And girls in general want to feel physically smaller then their man so they feel protected. It is all about evolution really.

Now sissy boys- they are another story altogether. I know Freud came up with the Oedipus complex, which in short says that a child desires to sexually possess his/her mother, and kill his/her father. Understandably, Freud was nuts. However, we do know that many people end up marrying someone who has some of the same qualities as their parents.

I rarely remember ever seeing my father cry. Maybe once.  (My mother is a whole other story.) My father is practical, down to earth, a realist, a strong solid force. The saying 'Real men don't cry' is wrong on so many levels. Real men should cry. When they marry the girl they will spend their whole life with, when they hold their first child in their hands. Crying is a natural state of emotions. However, it should be limited to certain periods of time for certain reasons and certain lengths.

Guys that cry for no reason or for reasons that are not very valid- I would call them girly. To them I say, 'buck up chuck', and 'walk it off', and 'get over it'. Because men are not supposed to cry. They are supposed to be strong, pull it together, roll with the punches. In a stressful situation, there is only one person that is allowed to fall apart and that is not the man. A blubbering man makes no one feel reassured.

So, no short guys and no girly boys for me. Anyone else?

Desperation is not a good color on you

They say the storm is coming, but I don't see it, I don't feel it. They are all running away, and I think, coward! Stay and fight it like a man. Stand in the eye of the storm and defeat it. Why are you running?

You are hungry, but you can't eat. You are tired, but you can't sleep. You are neglecting everything you have to do. Why? Why do you run away when the storm comes?

I want to run a marathon. I want to feel my feet hitting the pavement, I want to run until I can't breath, I want to feel exhilarated. I want to run into the eye of the storm, not away from it, and feel the wind whipping around me at 70 mph, I want to feel the rain lashing at my skin. I want to experience it and know that THIS is powerful, because G-d created it so.

And they say things like, "G-d, you know what to do now" and I laugh, because does He know what you are talking about? Do you think He listens when you make a 'friendly suggestion'?

They say all you have to do is believe and I try so very hard to. But it is like monkey bars and my hands are slippery and I just can't reach that next rung.... And I fall, again. And again. And the landing just gets harder every time.

They have an answer for everything, and it is beautiful, and it is meaningful. But it doesn't penetrate because, well, they are not me. And do they even know what they are talking about? Do they even believe the words they say?

Just believe and- it'll be good. Just believe and- everything will work out. Just believe and- you have no more worries, no more fears, no more problems.

Belief. Is that all? I don't believe so. Is it a trick then? Is life just one big game, and I have not yet mastered the rules? Tell me, because I want to know. I seem to be missing something.

The storm is coming, and I will be here, riding it out.

Alone.

Complaints about the iPhone 5

I don't have an iPhone. I probably will never have one. I am just not iPeople. Here is a funny skit about the iPhone 5:

If I was a rich man...

Money is the language of the land. Ever see a guy at a restaurant slip the Maître d' money to be seated first, even after he says that all the tables are full? (Or does that only happen in the movies?)

Money corrupts people. The rich have it, the poor don't, everyone wants it, few achieve it, bribes are bad, the weak take them, money causes discordance, jealousy, corruption, disunity, unhappiness. And yet, the world revolves around it.

“Money may not buy happiness, but I'd rather cry in a Jaguar than on a bus.”
― Françoise Sagan

“While money can't buy happiness, it certainly lets you choose your own form of misery.”
― Groucho Marx

“Too many people spend money they earned..to buy things they don't want..to impress people that they don't like.”
― Will Rogers

“Money cannot buy health, but I'd settle for a diamond-studded
wheelchair.”
― Dorothy Parker

“Money isn't everything...but it ranks right up there with oxygen.”
― Rita Davenport

“The two most beautiful words in the English language are 'cheque enclosed.”
― Dorothy Parker

“Disagreements over money are the biggest cause of divorce."
― Susan Elizabeth Phillips, Match Me If You Can

“[Credit is a system whereby] a person who can't pay, gets another person who can't pay, to guarantee that he can pay.”
― Charles Dickens, Little Dorrit

"Money isn't everything, but it keeps you in touch with your kids." (As seen on my fridge at home.) In "Fiddler on the roof" Tevye sings 'If I was a rich man'. He asks G-d, "Dear God, you made many, many poor people. I realize, of course, that it's no shame to be poor. But it's no great honor either! So, what would have been so terrible if I had a small fortune?"

If I was a rich man...
I'd build a big tall house with rooms by the dozen,
Right in the middle of the town.
A fine tin roof with real wooden floors below.
There would be one long staircase just going up,
And one even longer coming down,
And one more leading nowhere, just for show.

If I was a rich man...
The most important men in town would come to fawn on me!
They would ask me to advise them,
Like a Solomon the Wise.
"If you please, Reb Tevye..."
"Pardon me, Reb Tevye..."
Posing problems that would cross a rabbi's eyes!
And it won't make one bit of difference if i answer right or wrong.
When you're rich, they think you really know!

Lord who made the lion and the lamb,
You decreed I should be what I am.
Would it spoil some vast eternal plan?
If I were a wealthy man.

So why couldn't G-d have made us all rich? So that people have an opportunity to give tzedaka? Doesn't seem good enough to me. People only think about money when they don't have any. And what is this 'middle class' which everyone keeps talking about?

   

If I had a million dollars... I'd be rich.

Ve'Yakov Halach Le'Darko

Yes, we are well into the month of Cheshvan, but I would just like to say goodbye to the Tishrei guests who graced out streets with their presence (not presents), and would also like to thank them for leaving. Take back our streets!

There is a normal amount of foot traffic, the stores are not overly crowded, there is no longer a multitude of foreigners swarming through the streets...

:-) Come again next year! (Insert sarcastic emoticon here.)

Have a good Shabbos.

Mama I'm still your baby

"Mama why is everybody looking at my icy?"
"No one is looking at your icy, shut up and eat your damn icy."

Thought: mmm I really want an icy right now...

"Mama I'm still your baby."
Maybe it was her first day of school and her mom needed some encouragement.

Children are such funny creatures. I find some kids cute and adorable, while others get on my nerves. One thing all children have in common is their dependency on their parents. When a child is lost, hungry, tired, or upset for any reason, they call out 'mommy, mooommmmy!!!!!" in a loud grating voice. They sound like a broken record and all you want to do is scream 'will somebody find this kids mother?!" You want to tell the kid to shut up, but that would be perceived as rude.

It is like an alarm clock. When it is your own alarm, yes maybe it is annoying, but you get up with a sigh cuz you know it's time to wake up. When it is someone else's alarm- you want to rip it out of the wall and throw it across the room. (I am still talking about an alarm clock.)

But then sometimes, kids just say the darndest things, and you just wanna laugh at how cute they are.

I'm not a mom, so I can't really complain. Maybe one day I will not hate hearing a kid screaming 'mommy' so much.

Here are two perspectives:

Mom

Daughter

And then they say things like "Mama I'm still your baby", and that makes it all better.

Why you gotta be so hatin'?

It sucks to be the messenger. I hate when it is my job to give people bad news. Or when someone else screws up, and leaves me the mess to clean up. I hate cleaning up other people's messes. My reaction? 'Not my problem'. But what if it becomes my problem?

I'd imagine Yonah hated the job he was assigned to do. Telling people that they were sinners and they had to repent? Sucky job. What about Noach? "Sorry guys, G-d will bring a great flood that will destroy you all. Repent, sinners!"

Please don't hate me, and stop screaming at me. I'm only the messenger. This is my job. Why you gotta take it out on me?

And I have to smile and say, 'Uhu, you're right, I'm so sorry, it's our fault, we apologize for the error.'

Bla bla bla. We all know that's a lie. I am not sorry in the least.

Lies make the world go round.

Reunion

I'm too young to have a reunion. There are movies made about high school reunions. "What will my 10 year reunion be like?" Are the popular girls still popular? Have the quiet girls become leaders? Who changed? Who stayed the same? Who has kids? How many? Who is successful? Who is (still) a loser?

Well, that is all great, but not much has changed with me since high school. Okay, a lot has changed, but most of it internal. I'm not married, I don't have kids, I'm not making millions. So, what have I to say for myself?

A teacher from my high school sent an email asking who would be interested in having a high school reunion. I don't think the email was meant for me. The first graduating class has their 10 year anniversary coming up. Pretty big accomplishment.

Given the chance, would you go back to high school? Would you do it all over again? Change anything? Do it exactly the same?

Would you go to your high school reunion? Wear a name tag that proudly says "Hi I'm so-and-so" in case no one remembers you? And hear them all say, 'weren't you the girl who __________________? '

I think I'll give it a few more years before I meet up with my past. By that time, I hope I have something to show for it.

Go Inside

Ever tried to find the purpose of life? 42. The answer is always 42. (According to my father, the answer is always 'gravity'.)

It is hard to do a job when there seems to be no purpose to it. Or if the goal is 'money'. Yes, we need money to live. So should one work at a job for the sole purpose of making money? And then what? Would it not be better to do a job where you can make a real difference?

My aunt volunteers at a place called 'Shake a Leg'. It is an organization that teaches paraplegic people how to sail. The people who volunteer for Friendship Circle and work with children with special needs are making a real difference too.

Those jobs are voluntary. Why does it seem like the jobs which bring change and good feeling are always voluntary positions? I think I just answered my own question.

I've always had a problem with authority. My mother taught me to not be chuzpadik. I try. Or I get around it. I sailed through high school and seminary skipping class, doing what I wanted when I wanted, and still had a pretty decent relationship with my principals. I just like to do my own thing, I don't like having rules imposed upon me.

I hope one day to be self-employed and to be able to make a career out of what I love to do. Until then, I must suffer at the hands of bosses who tell me what to do. They want me to adopt their love for the business, their drive, their goals, their purpose. But what if I disagree with it, or if I find no purpose in it? Should I just 'get by', like all the other weary unhappy working class?

I've recently been studying philosophy. And what I learned is, if you question everything, you'll go insane. Should you stop asking? Leave things alone? Convince yourself that a job is a job and you don't need a purpose?

I never claimed to have all the answers. (Gravity!)

Balancing act

In life you have to find the perfect balance. Try putting a wooden board on top of a ball. Then stand on top of it. (Don't try this at home boys and girls.)

It can be hard. Balancing work, and school. Friends with obligations. Vacation with regular life. How can you do it all?

What happens when it gets overwhelming? You go away for Shabbos, you come back, and life hits you in the face. Laundry, food shopping, preparing stuff for the week.

You have to slow it down. Ever watch a video in slow motion? They do it all the time in sports, to show you the play-by-play that gets lost when you watch it in real time. Take a deep breath and slow things down. One thing at a time. What is your top priority right now? What can be pushed off for another time? What is your first and foremost immediate concern?

Making lists can help you organize what you need to do. Some people find it helpful, while others find them tedious. You have to find what works for you.

The main thing is, stay calm. Don't freak out. You have a lot to do? That's great. That means your life is full, you have a purpose. So do everything, but in a certain order.

And at the end of the day, I watch reality TV because it makes me feel so much better about my own life.

Pure Awesomeness

Awesomeness,
this feeling of bliss,
excitement, running through me,
ecstasy. 

I feel so free,
so liberated,
so validated,
by me.

Spring in my step,
easy breathing,
lightheaded,
in a good way.

Life is good.
It is.
Knowing that
everything will be okay.

Coming home to
my simple abode,
still on a high,
applause ringing in my ears.

Coursing through my veins,
I hope this feeling
will last forever
every night and day.

I want to wake up tomorrow,
happy, at peace,
like I can do anything
that I am unstoppable.

I want to bottle this
elixir of life,
and drink little sips
when I'm feeling down.

Tonight is good,
I will remember this high
and not let it get away
this time.

Because I want to feel this good
forever.

Real Men Wear Suits

My heart beats faster
As I see all the suits aound me.
Walking fast, ties flapping,

Shiny shoes tapping
On the pavement.
Going here, there and everywhere.

Nice suits in many colors,
With stripes, and patterns,
Blue shirts, and white shirts underneath.

Pressed pants, straight from the cleaners,
Expensive looking,
Distinguished, well-dressed.

Feels so familiar,
Makes me feel safe, secure.
Makes me want to call my Dad and say,
"I miss you."

Silent night

"Hi, how are you?"

'I'm good, how are you?'

Silence.

Dot dot dot....

Nothing.

[-Blank- is offline and can't receive messages right now.]

Sigh. There are so many things I want to tell you. So much I wish I could share with you. I sit here and wait. And wait some more. The sink is filled with dishes that need to be washed, I need to prepare a lunch for tomorrow. I should really do the responsible thing and take a shower and go to bed. Tomorrow is too close to ignore it.

But I sit here. The house is quiet. The screen is dark and still.

And you are out there somewhere, unawares.

My tea is getting cold, and it is just no fun drinking alone.

Like me, LIKE me!

I don't understand the Facebook 'like' button. I dislike it. It allows you to like anything. Friend's statuses, their photos, and anything else they choose to post.

You can't like people, but you can like groups. Some groups are desperate for 'likes', going so far as to make contests for who can get the most people to 'like' their page, and win a prize. One such contest was by a photographer, and the prize was a free photo shoot. A friend of mine asked me to 'like' the guys page, and say who referred me, so she could win the free photo shoot. I helped her out, and when the contest was over I 'unliked' the page.

I don't think that many likes necessarily  equals popularity in any way. If anything, it just means that that group was particularly pushy and annoying.

'Like this page for a chance to win a free...'

Facebook has not complied with suggestions to create an opposite 'dislike' button. I suppose they feel people will be far too free with their criticism.

I don't understand desperate cries for attention or 'like'. It is really unseemly.

Stuck to the bottom

'Tis the season for soups! I love to sit down to a steamy bowl of hearty soup, as the weather frosts up the windows outside. They are also fun to make. Sometimes I loosely follow a recipe, but most often I just throw in whatever I feel like.

Somehow I ended up making a Soup of the Week for a few weeks in a row. One week it was turkey soup. I like the turkey necks as opposed to chicken necks, I think it has more flavor, and of course more meat on the bone, due to its bigger size. I usually only use green vegetables, since I have an aversion to any remotely sweet vegetables, such as carrots, turnips, parsnips, etc. I favor leeks, zucchini, onions, potatoes, dill, (no parsley), scallions, sometimes mushrooms, green peppers. For spices I keep it simple, salt and pepper. The dill adds a lot of flavor.

Last week I made a tomato soup. It came out very thick and hearty. I added chopped up vegetables, so I let it cook for awhile. Unfortunately, I wasn't watching it so closely, and the bottom of the pot ended up burning. It took me days to scrub the burnt stuff off.

Once the pot was clean, I was in the mood to cook again. This week I made a mushroom-barley-split pea soup. My mother used to make it all the time when I was little, and while mine did not come out quite as good as my mother's, it still tastes pretty great. The process involves cooking the split peas for about an hour until they are tender, (including any vegetables you feel like adding), and then adding the barley and letting it cook for another while. Of course, I forgot to watch the pot and the barley stuck to the bottom. I managed to coax them back to life, and my soup did not burn.

There are many analogies I can find between life, and a pot of soup. One of them that struck me was action, or inaction. Either you are moving, or you are stuck. Stagnant is not a healthy state to be in.

When you stir the soup, it bubbles merrily, it cooks as it should. If you let it sit and don't watch it, it can burn, it can get stuck to the bottom, which will require major clean up afterwards.

We have to be constantly moving in our life, physically and spiritually. Bump up your exercise routine. Make time to learn new things, in Torah and in other areas. If not, you will become lethargic, your life will become stasis. This is not good.

Don't get stuck on the bottom. Keep moving!

Have a good week, and be sure to try out your favorite soup recipes :)

Occupation: Superstar

When I was little, I wanted to be British. When we played 'make-believe', I tried so hard to put on a British accent. I don't remember ever desiring a specific profession as little children tend to do, such as princess, fireman, nurse, etc.

When you were little, did you ever think about what you wanted to be 'when you grew up'? Or rather, what do you want to be when you grow up?

Some people in this society merely have jobs, not careers. Some go to school for a specific profession, some don't go to school at all. Some people start out with a plan, and others do not. Whatever the case, plans don't always work out. But there are bills to pay and food to buy, so people take jobs wherever they can get them.

Do you enjoy what you do? Once, when I was job hunting, my father said to me, "Take any job you can get, regardless if you are happy there. If you need the money, you are not at liberty to wait for the perfect job." While I understand his viewpoint, I thought that was kind of a sad outlook on life, especially considering that my father does enjoy his job. I don't think that a person should do something that makes them unhappy.

Ideally, it would be great if everyone could do what they loved to do, and get paid for it. For some people, that might mean shopping all day, or watching movies, or eating. So, there are personal shoppers, and movie critiques, and writers for food blogs. It may not be likely, but it is possible. Some people just enjoy being famous, and they get paid for that.

Whether you have a job, or a career, the main thing is that you have to enjoy what you do. If you are not happy there, it affects your performance, and your attitude, which can affect your health, and your lifestyle.

There was recently this 'quiz' going around Facebook. Personally, I think a lot of the Facebook apps are dumb, and a waste of time. They say things like 'Which Disney Character are you most like?', or 'What type of personality are you'? This one was for which profession you should have gone into. Not, could have, would have been good at, but should have been. Does Facebook think that people will drop whatever they are doing to start a whole new career because it is what they should have gone into? yes, these quizzes are meant to be fun and playful. But even so, do you really need to look back and say, "I should have done something else with my life"?

Ironically, my friend took the quiz 4 times, and got 4 different results. Guess it all depends on how you answer the questions.

I was speaking to a lawyer recently, and the topic of college came up. He told me he had majored in accounting for his undergrad, as many people told him that it would help him for law school. He said he got straight C's, that he should have majored in English because that is the subject he is best at, that had he majored in English he might have gotten into a better law school, etc etc. Then he stressed that he is happy with where he ended up, and he doesn't regret the path that he took.

But he obviously has thought about it. Do you want to go through life thinking, 'what if'? How would my life have turned out if only I would have done....

If you have a goal, or skills, or a desire to be something, then go for it. While not everybody can afford to follow their dreams, ambition will get you far in life.

But don't look back with regrets and say "I should have been...."

No Joke

So I was on the bus today, and this older lady was sitting there, talking on her phone. She looked to be maybe in her late 40's early 50's, no real way to know. She had a smartphone, meaning to say it was way cooler than my phone. It was a touch screen, no idea what make or model, but pretty current. Like, my mom would never be able to figure it out.

I see her start taking something out of her purse. It was a purple wire of some sort. I thought it was a phone charger, but that made no sense being that there are no outlets on a bus. At the end of the wire I see something big and bulky coming out of her purse.....

It was a phone! Not her cell phone. A hand held old fashioned big phone, one that you can hold between your ear and your shoulder. The kind that is usually connected to the wall in your house. Only, this one had a wire that connected to her... you guessed it. Her sleek small so-tiny-can-fit-in-your-shirt-pocket new and improved cell phone.

And I'm thinking, are you kidding me? The point of the cell phone was to unplug you, to make your burden lighter. The best simile I can think of- a pair of earbud headphones attached to a boombox. Why would you want to lug that around?

Here are some photos for illustration:

And there you have it Ladies and Gentleman.

And they didn't change their names...

I used to work at a dental office in Williamsburg. I found it funny every time a frum chasseedish mother walked in with her kids in tow, curly peyos at their ears, and said, "This is Barry, this is Joseph, this is Henry." Like, really? Who are you kidding?

Or when I call up a company that is run by frum guys and the guy who answers, in a heavy Yidish accent, says his name is 'Jake'.

I don't understand why parents give their children English names at birth. You should be proud of your Hebrew name. Maybe some people find it hard to pronounce the 'ch' sound, but so what. A name is the essence of a person. It connects to your soul. Does 'Barry' connect to your soul?

My brother adopted an English name for his job. My co-worker recently decided to introduce himself as Richard to customers. No idea why he picked that particular name.

Maybe when people do it they just want to fit in, they just want to make it easier for secular people to say their name. But in Egypt, one of the three things it says the Jews did not change was their names. So why should we? Especially these days, when freedom of religion is so accepted everywhere, we do not have a need to hide.

Be Yoel, or Yossi, or Yitchok, or Chaya, or whatever your parents named you. Your name is special, and you shouldn't change it.

Find Me

They ask me,
again and again.
I make up answers as I go along.

Different versions of the truth.

But the thing is, I don't really even know myself.

Did you ever have a dream in life?
A shining goal
that stares you in the face.

Did you ever fear failure
before you even began?

Fear.
It cripples you.
It immobilizes you.

It is a game stopper.

I want so much to play the game.
But my fears paralyze me.

They hold me back from
discovering
if I even have what it takes.

They say if you never even try
you have already failed.

What happens if you do try
and you fail?
Was it worth the effort?

It says, "yagati velo matzati - al taamin."
Does that mean if you fail
you have not truly tried?

That the goal should become the reality-
this is the dream.

Find me-
off the beaten path,
amongst the old twisted gnarly trees.

Find me-
around the bend in the road,
where no one thought to look.

Find me-
and take my hand
and help me across the finish line.

No one,
not even the strongest of men-
can do it alone.

Find me.

One less thing to worry about...

The good thing about Simchas Torah: Nobody can drink and drive. Please watch your alcohol consumption on Yom Tov. You are supposed to be besimcha, not stone cold drunk. Have a good Yom Tov!!

Growing up way too fast

How do you tell a 10 year old that she knows way too much? Too much about Hannah Montana, too much about boyfriends, and girlfriends. An 8 year old who knows what 'cheating' is, and not in reference to a board game. They tell me Selena Gomez and Justin Bieber are engaged. The 8 year old sings me a song, by Rhianna. About love, or broken hearts, or something.

She tells me she has her whole life mapped out. I listen, fascinated. She knows what kind of guy she wants to marry (Tall, handsome, rich, with a British accent because she loves listening to it.) She knows how many kids she wants to have (8, or however many Hashem wants.) She knows where she wants to live (Georgia. No idea why.) She wants to live in a big house with 3 floors, with a pool. She wants to make $5,000 a month. (She couldn't figure out how much that comes to a year.) She wants to be an artist, photographer, and producer. I asked her what she wants to produce. She said, I don't know, maybe movies.

I tell her she knows too much for her age, and she should go play with barbies. She tells me, in a voice that says 'you are so naive', that ALL her classmates know all this stuff too. That they all watch TV. She tells me, like I am an idiot, that she knows even more than what she is telling me. She teases her 18 year old brother that he has a girlfriend.

Then she asks me, in all seriousness, what kind of guy I'm looking for. Yes everybody, a 10 year old Shadchan. She asks me what he should look like, do I want a tall guy, short, fat or skinny, handsome or ugly. I respond, very diplomatically, that it is the inside that matters more, and that 'Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.'

I can't believe I'm discussing this with a 10 year old. Am I extremely naive, or has this generation deteriorated so vastly? I am discussing things with a 10 year old and an 8 year old that they shouldn't even know. That I shouldn't even know about. Where did it go wrong?

I tell this little girl (she claims she is already a teenager. Maybe THAT'S the problem) that if she knows all this stuff now, what will there be for her to know when she gets older? She scoffs and says, "I won't watch TV when I'm older. I will know like, science and stuff."

Good luck, little girl.

Pick a side, any side, I don't care which one you pick

 I decided long ago that I would never discuss politics with anyone, for two reasons.

1) What I believe is nobodies business.

2) A large majority of people are ignorant in this area.

Regarding my first point. A lot of people don't care what your opinion is and will not respect it. All they want to do is get the chance to bash it and try to tell you why you are wrong. So what's the point in discussing it with them.

Regarding my second point: why would I take advice from ignorant people? Additionally, it is often painful to hear the things people senselessly spout, without having any knowledge on the matter, or any real substantial facts to back it up.

So, I steer clear.

There's one thing I don't understand. Big Bird. He's cute, furry, yellow, innocent. Why must people put him in the spotlight for something he didn't do?

What about etch-a-sketch? They are a fun children's toy. Again, why must they get such negative media coverage?

It is funny the things people choose to focus on, for no real reason. Jump on it, actually.

What makes one guy better than the other guy? Let's just take a gamble and say, facts. The words they are saying, the things they are promising. Will they follow through?

You know what the President has done over the past 4 years. Many people view him in a negative light. Maybe they have valid reasons for that. But what about the other guy? The new kid on the playground? How much do you really know about him? It's a gamble, really. There's no way to know if he will be any better, if he will carry through on his promises.

I really think that for some people, it is not a thought-out process. Some people make the decision based on prejudices, racism, because they like the other guy's voice better. Maybe they have no reason at all. Perhaps many people make their decision based on what they hear from other people, from their parents, their friends, their co-workers. When it comes down to it- who do you like better?

Believe what you want to believe, but make sure that you have a good solid foundation beneath your beliefs, so they don't one day all come toppling down.

Happy voting!

T.G.I.O.

Thank G-d it's over.

Someone asked me how my Yom Tov was. My answer: too much food.

My sister did all the cooking. My father made some joke about how my sister said 'we have to eat again tonight'. Less than half my family was home for Yom Tov, and yet we still have tons of food. It's like none of us know how to cook in smaller quantities.

There should be a mandatory fast after every 2 day holiday. I think I'm going on a hunger strike.

There is something slightly melancholy about motzei Yom Tov. When I was little, the sukkahs would empty, everyone would go off with friends, to 'hang out', or 'do stuff', go to simchas bais hashuava. And it would get so quiet. Back to life, back to technology.

Then I grew up and it was my turn to get out as fast as I could the second yom tov was over.

Sure, I want to hang out. Sure I want to have fun, I will definitely go to simchas bais hashuava, I might even stay out all night. But I am older now. More responsible. I have to wake up tomorrow, for work, for life, for whatever it is that I have to do. I don't live life with such abandonment anymore. That is a good thing.

Concerts? Amusement parks? No thank you.

Wishing everyone a fun and healthy Chol Hamoade. Be safe, and stay warm!

So, is this how it's going to be?

Hello Sukkos, I've missed you, the holiday that comes only once a year. I was so looking forward to spending some time with you, for 8 days.

Then came the rain. Big, fat drops streaking across my window, lending the appearance of teardrops. But I'm not crying. Not this time. This was supposed to be a good year. This is going to be a good year.

So then, what is it you are saying? That you don't want us? Should we sit outside anyway, in the cold wet rainy night?

There will be those who say, "Women don't need to eat in a Sukkah", or "Women are not obligated to shake lulov and esrog". To them I say, how can you take away this special mitzvah from the ones who work so hard to prepare for this yom tov? You are basically telling them, no need to try harder, your efforts don't count.

But we know that is not true. We have higher standards. We go 'lifnim meshuras hadin', beyond the letter of the law. I have never sat inside on Sukkos, and I don't plan to start this year.

I don't know how this will work. I left my rain boots at home.

I always had a weird thought about Yom Kippur. The prayer of ne'ila, we say, is signifying that the gates of heaven are closing, and it is the last moment for us to pray for a good year. I always found that a bit sad, until I read on Chabad.org that the gates are closing, with us on the inside. We are not left outside the palace, in the cold and the rain. We are invited inside, to the warmth, to sit by the fire and bask in the presence of Hakadosh Baruch Hu.

And when the rain splish-splashes into your chicken soup, and you are huddled in a sweater for warmth, and all you want to do is go inside- go beyond your comfort. Enjoy your Yom Tov meal, along with the Ushpizin.

May we all merit to spend this Sukkos in Hashem's great Sukkah, in Yerushalayaim with Moshiach Now!

JustaGuy

Just a guy.

Passing through.

As they all tend to do.

They all like to assert themselves in different ways.

He refused directions.

Maybe is was a macho kind of thing.

It didn't impress me.

He called me 'ebullient'. I had to look it up in the dictionary.

I laughed. No one would ever describe me as such. e·bul·lient. Ha.

By now the details are fuzzy.

His face.

His name.

What was spoken about.

Just a guy,

Is all he was.

Soon, I won't remember him at all.

Maybe the next one will be better.

Or the next one.

Or the one after that.

No way to know.

I hope I can muster enough enthusiasm,

For The Guy.

In a weird way, I feel so... normal.

Normal is so boring.

Does that make me.... boring?

It's funny the things you end up remembering.

You can't erase an experience, even if you want to.

Do you want to?

Leave it on the Timeline of your brain.

Let it be a learning experience.

Call it Growth.

He is.

Was.

Always will be.

JustaGuy.

Until one day,

I'll meet someone.

Who will turn out,

Not to be,

JustaGuy

After all.

Stop calling me

I can't think of 8. All I can come up with is texting, or emailing. Maybe voicemail. Or chat. BBM if you have a Blackberry.

I hate when people call me when I am sleeping, or have recently woken up. The first thing they ask me is 'Did I just wake you up?'. That is a dumb question for many reasons. If you did just wake me up, what are you going to do about it? Hang up? I'm already up, so say what you called to say, and get it over with. If you did just wake me up and I lie and say you didn't to make you feel better, but we both know I'm lying, do you feel any better? And I still just woke up. So if my voice sounds fuzzy with sleep- don't ask me dumb questions, because that is when I have the least patience for it.

The first time I got a phone call and chose to ignore it- nothing happened. My phone didn't blow up. The person who called didn't show up at my door and say 'Ha! I knew you were ignoring me!'. I just looked at my phone and it felt so liberating. I am no longer a slave to my phone. You can call, and if I don't want to talk to you I won't answer. Maybe leave me a message if it's important. Maybe I will get back to you later. Maybe I will even say 'Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't hear my phone because _________________' (insert brilliant fake excuse here.)

Yes, I am a product of my generation. Yes, I fall back on texting way too often. If all you need to say can fit into 160 characters or less, than why bother me with a phone call? I got a call from someone once and all she wanted was the phone number of a mutual friend. By the time she made that clear, we were 5 minutes into the conversation, and I was grasping at things to say to keep the conversation going. All she wanted was a phone number. I ended up texting it to her anyway. Who writes down phone numbers anymore?

Sometimes I'm just not in the mood to talk to you. Or to anyone. So don't call me. Just send me a text. If it sounds important, I will call you back. If not, we can have a heated conversation via text, with emoticons and everything.

The only person I would pick up for anytime is my mother. Because, well, she can't text. She doesn't own a cell phone. And she would end up leaving me a 5 minute long message anyway, which I would listen to, and then call her back, and then she would just repeat the whole message. So let's just cut to the chase. (Hi Ma!).

First there were letters. Beautiful, handwritten, snail mail genuine letters. The kinds that are now preserved in museums. The kind that are mostly extinct.

Then came the phone. When you can have hours long conversations with your friends, laying on your bed with your feet kicking in the air, giggling about some gossip that is only important to a teenager. That is a bygone era as well. Like, waaaaay back in the 90's.

Then came the cell phone. The big, clunky, "I'm so cool I have a cell phone even though it's as big as a house" phone. Calling people on the go? You can always stay connected!

Then it just kept on improving. The invention of the text. A miracle. Now, we can both be sitting in the same room, not talking, not making a sound, and we can text each other. No need to look at you, I can see your smiley clearly on the screen. You said something funny? No problem. I'll just reply with an 'lol'. Get used to it, it's the new mode of dating.

You think I'm joking, but I'm not. No really. Don't call me.

Have a good Shabbos :-)

Boys will be boys

It's a universal thing, really. No matter the language, boys are pretty much the same. They act the same. They sound the same. Yes, there is definitely a cultural divide. But that does not change the fact that they are boys.

Car trouble? No problem. Even if they have never driven in their lives, even if they have never taken a look under a hood of a car, they will step up to help. Why? Because they have testosterone and a need to impress.

What did I think would happen when I had the radio playing on low, with a few Israeli guys in my car? My car, my rules. I was going to turn it off thinking, Erev Yom Kippur is not the best time to listen to secular music, when I heard them singing along to it. Ma ze shtuyot? I am not impressed.

Give them a little mashke, get a farbrengin going, and they really get into it.

There is something fun about driving with a car full of boys. Especially when they are talking heatedly in a language you can barely understand.

My Yom Kippur was exhausting and draining. And unfortunately, the kids did not save me any gushers from the children's program. Oh well. Maybe next year.

Looking forward to Sukkos! Wishing everyone a happy and sweet year.

The chicken thing

Sensory overload. That's all I can think of. Too many people, too many lights, too much noise. I feel the urge to curl up inside myself, cover my eyes and ears, and block it all out.

This year it is just me. My family is not here. That's okay, I'm a big girl, I can do this by myself. Except I don't want to. I hate doing this alone. Last year my friend swung the chicken for me. This year she is far away.

I call my mother and complain. Why are all these people here. I don't want to do this. I don't want to be around people. I don't want to celebrate Yom Kippur.

She throws suggestions at me. Stay home. Daven by yourself. She offers to call my brother to come swing the chicken for me. Or my sister in law's brother. I said no thank you Ma, I don't need their help. I don't shriek from touching a chicken. I'm not that kind of girl. But I'd rather not do it by myself.

In a crowd of people you kind of just do what everyone else is doing. So I get on the line marked 'women'. I wait in line. I pay for the chicken. I get a ticket.

Then I just stand there, in the middle of the street, in the middle of the noise, in the middle of the chaos, all alone, confused, unsure of what to do, where to go, how to do this on my own.

And Hashem sends me an angel, in the form of a little boy named Shmulik. He looks to be maybe 15. He is clearly Israeli, but speaks English pretty well. He says, 'Do you want me to do it for you'?

I am suspicious. I ask him if he knows English. I ask him if he will get me a girl chicken. I ask him if he is trying to scam me. He doesn't understand everything I'm saying. He takes my ticket and gets me a chicken.

Again, suspicion. How do you know it's a girl chicken. Will you run off with my chicken? I say the prayers, and he starts swinging it. All the while I'm thinking, what's his deal? Why is he helping me?

When I'm done, I follow him to make sure he is taking it to the right place. He tells me to get on line. He tells me to watch them shecht the chicken. I tell him I've never done this before and I'm completely lost. He tells me to throw sand on the blood and to say the blessing.

I asked him (skeptically) if he wants anything from me. He says I can give him a tip if I want. So I give him a dollar. I ask him his name. He says Shmulik. I say thank you very much for your help.

And then I run out of there as fast as I can. Away from the smell, away from the bright lights, away from the people.

But I felt so much better, and just a little less alone, thanks to the help of a kind stranger. Who make a buck off of me. Pretty good deal, if you ask me.

Wishing everyone a healthy and spiritual Yom Kippur, and may all of your prayers be answered for all of your heart's desires. I am hoping and praying for a good year, with Moshiach now.

Nostalgia

Sometimes I miss it a lot. The past. The people we have left behind. Sometimes that feeling hits me. Nostalgia. A familiar face. A familiar scent. Flitting memories, that we have pushed away, tried to forget. They come back to us, at odd hours. At 4 in the morning, when we should be sleeping.

And for a moment, a wistful feeling steals over you. For that time, that place, that person. The familiarity.

But only briefly. And then it is gone, replaced with the present. The here and now. The future.

Because the future stretches out, bright, and clear. And the past- it is no more.

Sometimes I miss it. But then I look back over this past year, and I remember how far I have come. I look forward towards the future, and I feel optimistic. There is so much that I have accomplished, and so much more that I still want to do. There are so many good people in my life, and so many more that I can't wait to meet.

And the places we have been and the people we have left behind- it doesn't exist anymore. A small smile plays at your lips, and your heart is light. Everything is okay, the world is silent, and it really is time to go to bed.

4 AM- we have got to stop meeting like this. Too much time to think is never a good thing.

'Our kind'?

There is an unfortunate close-minded mentality in Crown Heights. Frum people in general seem to have this 'closed group' attitude. Which is fine, I'm Jewish, you're Jewish, let's stick together. We try our best to keep outer influences to a minimum.

But what of Racism? It is prevalent in New York, and it makes me uncomfortable.

I was at the laundromat, and some guy came over to tell me that a lady wasn't feeling well. I went over to check. She was sitting on a chair with her head down, not moving. I thought maybe she was tired. I asked her if she was okay. She shook her head no. I asked her if she wanted water. She shook her head no. I asked her if she wanted an ambulance. She didn't really respond. Another lady was a nurse and tried asking her what her symptoms were.

I decided someone should do something, so I called 911. It is a weird feeling to have to call. I have only called them once before, thank G-d. They go through a whole process. What is the emergency? Address? Who is the patient? How old is she? They dispatched me to ambulance services. They asked me more questions. Then told me an ambulance was on the way.

20 minutes later it still wasn't there. The lady was laying on two chairs, moaning, complaining of stomach pains. I didn't know what to do, and I was getting nervous. So I decided to call Hatzalah (the Jewish ambulance service.) They came within 5 minutes.

The first guy attended to the lady, he seemed nice. The thing about Hatzala is they come in droves. About 3 more guys showed up, and an ambulance, even before the 911 emergency service came.

Here's where it gets a little uncomfortable. One of the guys was looking around. He saw me. I was obviously the only frum person there. The lady who was in pain is African American. I did the right thing by calling Hatzala. A person is a person no matter what, and I should do what I can to help.

The guy came over to me and said in a sort of whisper, "We try that Hatzalah should only be used for yidden." So I said, taken aback, 'The ambulance didn't come and I didn't know what to do.' He said, okay you should know for the future....

They took her in an ambulance to the hospital. The Hatzalah guys were great. In and out in like 7 minutes. I left the laundromat about 30 minutes after I called 911 and I still did not hear approaching sirens.

But that comment- it is so primitive. So uncalled for. Who cares if she is a 'yid' or not. She is a person. We as Jews are 'gomlei chassadim'. We help people. I was really bothered that he said that. Why do frum Jews feel the need to be racist?

Maybe I am taking this to an extreme, and I can understand in a sense where the guy was coming from. But if he called the police, would they tell him, sorry bro', we only help Mexicans?

Regardless, I hope she will be okay, and I am definitely learning how to stay calm in stressful situations, something I have a big problem with.

POST SCRIPT: I saw the lady again today, she is okay, and she thanked me profusely for helping her out.

New Beginnings

The warm sun smiled down at me as I left for the last time. I descended the steps with a bracelet clutched in my hand, with the word 'smile' on it. Fitting.

The weather outside was gorgeous, with a pleasant breeze in the air. It lifted my hair and whipped it about. My heart was light, my score was settled, and I was done. Time to move on.

Endings are hard, and so are new beginnings. But when it ends on a good note, it brings with it a good feeling. Onto bigger and better things.

Beginnings are a fresh start. Turn over a new leaf. Start again. No one knows you, and you can be everything you want to be. Leave anything negative behind.

It is the same with a new year. It is a time to leave old grudges behind, apologize to people you have hurt, forgive the ones who hurt you, and make good resolutions for the new year.

I have high hopes for this coming year. I pray for and I wish upon everyone lots of blessings in every area, be it health, livelihood, children, shidduchim. May everyone find only happiness in their lives, peace, good will towards their fellow man, revealed good in everything, and may you always have the strength and the courage to do the right thing.

I wish you and your families a happy and healthy sweet new year!

My worth

My worth
is not what you think of me.

Not what you give to me,
or what you take from me.

My worth
is not a gold star.

Or a red A+.

My worth
transcends the physical.

You cannot box me in.
Hold me back.

If you deem me unfit for you,
then certainly you are not good enough for me.

You cannot judge me,
for you have never been where I have been.

My worth is only
what I think of myself.

And I believe that
I am a pretty fine individual.

It does not matter what you think.
For I matter to myself.

And I will always be worth it.

My choice

It is that instant when you make a mental decision. There is much debate in psychology about the subconscious. Psychologist didn't use to believe that there was anything in our minds besides our conscious thoughts. But of course we know that to not be true. It is when you do something purposely to hurt someone and you say, 'I guess subconsciously I was really upset at her...' Or you have a major decision to make, and you say 'I don't really know what I want to do.'

Our minds have layers. Sometimes thoughts are clear and surface level. We are hungry. We are tired. We are sad. We know what we are feeling at any given time. Then there are the times when a thought lurks just below the surface and we don't quite know what it is we are really thinking.

It is that split second when your mind decides it does not want to be here. And then the rest follows. It is very hard to be somewhere when you have already decided that you don't want to be there.

Are you wasting your time? Is there a way to push through that mental barrier? Should you force yourself to stay when all you really want to do is leave? Get up off your chair, walk out that door, gasp the fresh night air, and run far away into the night.

I thought I had come far enough in life that I can make my own decisions and leave if I wanted to. But what of self-control? Sometimes, as grown ups, we need to make the decision that is best for us, even if it does not make us happy.

The desire was to leave, but I am going to stay, and prove to myself that I can do it. And I will make myself proud.

Deal again?

Yes please. Deal the cards again. There must have been some mistake.

No, these cannot be my cards. 'The hand that we were dealt.' No thank you. I don't accept it.

Why is it that just when things seem like they are going great- everything flips over. And I mean everything. All at once.

Okay, maybe not everything. But the essentials. The important things. It makes you stop and say, what now?

I hate it. It is so frustrating. I hate the feeling of not being in control. I hate that I can't do anything about another person's decision. I hate that I make plans, anticipate things, and they don't work out.

I hate saying, 'Well, it'll all work out.' Maybe it won't. Why must I always be positive? Why must I always console myself? What is wrong with wallowing and saying, 'This really and truly sucks'?

It sucks. I will not lie and say I'm happy. I will not pretend everything is 'just great'. I will not tell you that I am fine because that is what you want to hear.

No, it's not 'all good'.

Two steps forward, one step back. How many steps back can one take until they are just walking backwards?

Deal again?

Please. Because there must have been some mistake the first time around.

The end

Holding my breath.
Will I make it?
Just can't get to the other side.

The divide
is much too great.
And I alone can't.

Make it?
Or break it.
What will be.

Can't you see
how desperately
I wanted this?

Is it right?
Or wrong.
Who is to say?

Today,
it is cold.
Don't know where the sun went.

It was sent
away.
Don't witness the pain.

The rain
brings chill.
The fire can't warm.

Ride the storm.
The waves engulf.
No end in sight.

Take flight
and run.
For if you stay-

Today
will be gone.
And who knows what tomorrow brings.

Don't sing.
Your voice has broke.
And you are done.

You haven't won.
You lost more
than you ever had.

Are you sad?
But you are powerless.
So be gone.

And move on.
For if it is not meant to be
You can't control it.

Do as you see fit.
And let me be.
Can't you see

What you are doing to me?
My mind is numb.
No pain.

No gain.
No words.
No anything at all.

Can't stop the fall.
So I sit back.
And sneer.

You stare.
But I got it right.
All along.

Stay strong.
Keep away.
And you will never feel the pain.
Again.

The end.

...Aaaand We're Back!

Little girls walking, hand in hand with their parents, fresh new school uniforms, and backpacks that are way bigger than them. The buses and subways are packed with people returning to work after summer vacation. But I never got a vacation. How can you return when you were never away.

Today I felt the first chill in the air. Time to start thinking about pulling out the heavy blankets, the fall jackets. Keep tissues in your purse and have soup on hand, for when that cold springs up on you, unannounced.

I gaze in wonderment at my calendar and cannot fathom how it is Rosh Hashana in less then a week. People love to say 'It's that time of year again.' And it is. But not again. It is not that time of year again. It is new. It is fresh. This year was never before and will never be again. It is a fresh start, a clean slate, every other cliche of renewal.

I bought a book, hoping for inspiration. '60 DAYS: A Spiritual Guide to the High Holidays' by Simon Jacobson. I walked into the Judaic store, no idea where to find it. After awhile I caved and asked the clerk for help. Of course, he knew what I was talking about right away, and the book was right behind me.

He told me it is a seasonal item, and therefore it only has a one week return period. Thought I, do I want to return this item? I got home and started reading it. And then took a break. It is relevant, it is a short daily dose of inspiration, it doesn't take that long. But 'I have no time'. I want to soak up the inspiration just by holding the book in my hands. I want a quick fix, just like the rest of my generation. I want to sit down and say 'Inspire me!', and in a flash, I feel better.

I would like to go into the new year feeling prepared, and yet I never do. I always feel like I am rushing, like I am busy with everything else, like I am coming in to the holiday still putting on one shoe saying 'wait for me!'. Yes, that is usually how it is done.

I pray by rote, I say tehillim, all the while thinking, 'I should be feeling more. I should be crying. I should be praying harder. What is wrong with me, does this mean nothing to me at all?' I console myself by saying that at least I have a conscience that keeps me aware of what I am lacking. Reassuring thought. Not.

Well, this is what is wrong with me- I make time for so many other trivialities, and not the things that really matter. I have passing thoughts such as, 'I really should make a donation to tzedaka this year'. Or, 'maybe I should take some time to reflect on the past year and mentally prepare for Rosh Hashana.' And then I move on to other things.

And every year I show up to shul gasping for breath, running to do my hair and makeup in the 18 minutes, lighting candles late, thinking, thinking, thinking, trying to remember what I am forgetting and knowing that of course I must be forgetting something.

What is Rosh Hashana? I remember learning about it from the age of 6. Making cute honey dishes, bringing home arts n crafts, reciting dvar Torah's from a paper, putting the little inserts in my machzar so I would know what to say. And now, years later, I wonder, where is that bite-sized learning I am so used to? How come no one is teaching me about the holidays again? I have no arts n crafts, no dvar torah, no neat little package with a bow on it, with whatever the teacher decided to teach us.

Let's try this from the beginning. What is Rosh Hashana? Just as there are many resources and articles for people who know nothing, there are refresher courses for people who forget. But we never really forget.

It is the head of the year. It is the day Adam and Chava were created. It is a renewal of our relationship with Hashem. We crown Hashem as King. "The Kabbalists teach that the continued existence of the universe is dependent upon the renewal of the divine desire for a world when we accept G‑d’s kingship each year on Rosh Hashanah." We hear the shofar. It tells us to repent for everything we may have done in the past year. We eat an apple dipped in honey and other sweet foods so we should have a sweet year.

What I keep coming back to is a time of renewal. Here's the thing: Rosh Hashana happens every year. We apologize, we repent for sinning against Hashem, we ask for a good year, we tell Hashem that we are again accepting Him as king. It is like when a couple is having trouble in their marriage, so they go to couples therapy. They renew their vows. They remember the first time that they met, and that makes them forget the pain and fighting, and remember the love they shared. They are renewing their relationship.

It happens every year, but do you treat it with annoyance? Do you sigh and say, 'Oh that time of year again'? Do you fret and worry and say 'wow there is no way I can daven, because I have just done so many negative things this year'?

But we forget that, Hashem already loves us. He already chose us. He wants to hear from us that we love Him too, that we accept him, that we are sorry for hurting the relationship in any way.

Go into Rosh Hashana in a calm manner. Rejoice on the holiday, for it is a fresh start. It is a new year, a new you!

And make sure that you enter the holiday with both shoes on, and ready to say, Gut yom tov.

Cracked exterior

Throw me away,
because I'm cracked.
Discard me,
for I am damaged.

You see an ugly scar
running through me.
You ask not questions.
You think not reasons.

Look at the
broken glass
and see in it
yourself.

Look where
you deemed unfit
to be seen.
Understand that which you have dismissed.

Pick up
the shattered pieces
and fit them together
like a puzzle.

Where have I been?
Where have you been?
Where have we all been,
one time, long ago?

Is this a treasure,
or discarded trash
to be thrown away
yesterday.

One man's trash
is another man's treasure.
You forget that you too
were once pure.

Sullied,
in this dirty world.
We are darkened
with soot and ash.

Soap and water
cannot clean you.
Nothing
can scrub your soul.

Why doth thou slumber,
and how caneth  you awake
in the morn?
Doth thou not fear retribution?

Ah, but the sun does rise
in the East, every morn,
and set in the West every eve.
And our soul is renewed once again.

Would you throw away
a precious diamond,
for a hairline crack?
Great value it holds still.

Scars are a way of saying,
I have lived,
I have been,
I have seen a great lot of things.

Once expensive and new,
now- broken and, cheap?
But the value
never changes.

The crack may never mend,
but the inside
remains the same,
beautiful and sublime.

Y.O.L.O.

What is it, really?

When I first encountered 'LOL', I was chatting online with a friend. Feeling like an idiot, I asked, what does 'lol' mean? 'Laugh out loud'. At the time, I thought it was such a stupid abbreviation, and I vowed to never use it. I observed that most people abuse it, over use it, and don't actually mean that they are 'laughing out loud' when they say it. Unfortunately, I too have fallen prey to this short-hand generation.

There are so many abbreviations that have found their way into our every day use of the internet.

TTYL- Talk to you later.
BRB- Be right back.
TGIF- Thank G-d it's Friday.
IMHO- In my humble opinion
GTG- Got to go
ATM- At the moment
BC- Because
FYI- For your information
GR8- Great
OMG- Oh my Gosh
THX- Thanks
ROFL- Rolling on floor laughing (I'd like to see that.)

I'm sure there are many to be added to this list that I have not even heard of, or have no use for in a conversation. Whatever the case, this trend seems to start with the youth, as they have little patience to actually say what they are trying to say. Therefore, carry an urban dictionary when talking to teenagers. Unfortunately, this trend has become widespread in the adult world as well, and you have well-dressed respectable elders saying 'toats' (totally) and 'cray-cray' (crazy). A little self-respect, please.

This newest acronym, which by now is actually quite old, (February- like, so last season.) is YOLO- which stands for, 'You only live once.' It is similar to the old adage, 'Carpe Diem', seize the day. But in what context is it used, and should it be seen as a positive or a negative word?

"Its appeal to the youthful is self-evident. YOLO as a shorthand mantra defines youth, on a certain level. What is teenagehood if not the adventurous, often foolhardy, desire to test the limits of acceptable behavior—because hey, why not? YOLO!"

There seems to be a sense that it is used in a reckless way. The urban dictionary defines it as 'the idiot's excuse for something stupid that they did.'

"Let's jump off the roof- YOLO!".

"Ditch class and go to the beach- YOLO!"

“You want to park illegally in this spot? YOLO!”

“Should I buy these shoes or pay rent? YOLO!”

It can also be used as a verb!

“All the times I come home after a night of YOLO-ing, I crave a delish slice to soak up the booze and sober me up.”

Of course, as we are taught in Chassidus, anything negative can be seen in a positive light too.

Carpe Diem. YOLO. What if this is our only shot? So many of us go through life scared of taking chances. I don't like new beginnings. I find them bothersome, and a bit frightening. Everyone has situations that they would rather not get into. Some people have a huge fear of social interactions, and avoid public places. Some people might fear failure so much, that they don't even bother trying. What if you were so scared of failure that you didn't show up for an interview for an exceptional job that could shape your career? Or worse, a first date with a guy that may very well be your soul-mate?

I'm not saying that we should live life with the 'YOLO' motto as our guide. It should not be used as an excuse to get away with utterly foolish behavior. It should not be used as something to fall back on.

But if used in the right way, it is a refreshing realization that we must live in the moment, seize opportunities, for they may pass us by and never come back again.

"One wry elaboration [of YOLO], credited to the comedian Joe E. Lewis in 1952, is “You only live once, but if you work it right, once is enough.”

Y.O.L.O. You only live once. Get it right the first time. 

Like, what was she thinking??

There is a myth about not wearing white after Labor Day. It is considered a crime against fashion. There are many opinions about where the custom actually originates. Some people say that white was worn during summer because it is generally a lighter material, and come Fall, it is inadequate for the approaching cold winter months.

Another reason given is that in days gone by, only the rich people wore white during the summer, since they could afford a whole new wardrobe. The poor people continued to wear the same clothes they had all year. And once the rich people returned from their summer homes, they switched their wardrobe back, thus concluding the end of summer.

Whatever the reason, I think it is foolish and snobby. It is merely a chance to look down upon someone of lesser status than you. I never really followed fashion trends. That is not to say that I wear robes as they did long ago. I wear clothing of the times, but I do not follow what society dictates as being 'in'. I decide on my own style, and what looks good on me.

Never be a follower. Think for yourself, do what you please, and don't let society decide how you should lead your life, what you should wear, how you should behave.

Wear white after Labor Day if that's what makes you happy. Yom Kippur is coming up and we should all wear white.

What is the new black? I have no idea. 

Labor Day in Crown Heights

My family loves telling people the story of how we moved to Crown Heights on Labor Day. We came from a quiet little suburb that not many people have heard of. We had no idea what we got ourselves into. Labor Day in Crown Heights is- chaotic. To put it mildly. There is a West Indie Parade, made up mostly of people wearing very little clothing, who just want to eat, drink, party, and dance to really loud thumping music. The streets are packed, traffic is horrible, and cars have a very hard time getting through.

Here is the post I wrote last year at this time. It was not the greatest time for me. I had no job, no real idea what I was doing, I had just moved into a new apartment, my family moved away, and everything was changing. Now, it has been a year since I moved into my new apartment.

I always marvel at the passage of time. This year had many ups and downs, seemingly more downs than ups. But now, B"H everything is going well, and I can look back and realize that everything I went through was meant to bring me to this point in time. And from this point- on to the rest of my life.

This is not a holiday for me. In fact, I am working today. (Despite the fact that no one else, including my boss, showed up for work today.) But it is always a good time to stop and thank Hashem for everything. For things that are going well, and for things that don't seem so great.

I hope and pray for all of us, that we can all see only revealed good in our lives, that we will be able to recognize the Hand of G-d in everything, and may this year bring lots of blessings for everyone, materially and spiritually, things that you need, things that you want, and things you don't even know that you are lacking.

Raise your glass and say- Lechaim.