You look better with the lights off

In my office, there is secular music playing all the time. Usually it is just like background noise, I don't hear it. I was talking to a co-worker and I happened to listen to the lyrics of the song.This is what I heard:

"Don't take this the wrong way... But girl, you look better with the lights off."

I was appalled. I said it is derogatory to women and horrible in general. My co-worker laughed and said, no one listens to the words, and all songs say similar things.

I took a look at the lyrics. It starts off pretty nice, a guy telling a girl that he thinks she is pretty:

You're a dime (so beautiful)  
Top of the line (so unusual)  
Words can't define,  
You're running through my mind all day  

I'm so happy you're mine (so beautiful)  
Top of the line (so unusual)  
Now I think it's time, hey Shawty  

And then he ruins it by saying:
 
"I hope you don't take this the wrong way  

Girl you look better with the lights off,"

The rest of the song goes on to say

"I mean you already fine though,  
I just wanna see you with the lights off  
Every guy wanna know how it is  
To clap off the lights and turn Khole to Kim."

For those who don't know, Chloe and Kim are sisters. So this guy is saying that the girl is interchangeable.  

Then he pressures her to come back to his place by saying that he has other places to be but she is welcome to tag along.

 

"But whatever you plan gotta be done at 8  

Next Stop.  

Party at my place, of course you welcome girl,  

You ain't taking up space"

How very reassuring.

Yes it's just a song. But this is a pervasive attitude in the secular world. Women are not respected. They are treated as bodies and nothing more.

A guy in my office recently got engaged. There is a non Jewish girl who works with me and she is curious about our religion and always asks interesting questions which we try to answer. For some reason the topic of intimacy and family purity came up. We were telling her in brief what mikva is all about, how a man has to separate from his wife during her time of impurity, etc. She said in her marriage it is all about pleasing the husband, and we explained that in Judaism a man has an obligation to please his wife. 

She found it interesting and joked about how she will tell her husband that they need to separate for two weeks. But she reacted positively, and said she wanted to become Jewish because 'it is a good idea'. 

I see such a big difference between how women are treated in the secular world and in the religious world where I grew up. And this song is only one example.

Whether this guy is telling the girl that she is not pretty so he only wants to see her in the dark, or insinuating that she is only pretty if she sleeps with him- either way, it is a disgusting way to treat women and a sad representation of the male species. I would like to think that the guys who treat girls this way are only the minority.

 

Let there be light.

So many questions

Did anyone notice the incessant questions on Facebook recently?

How's it going, Altie?
What's going on, Altie?
How are you doing, Altie?
What's happening, Altie?
How are you feeling, Altie?

I will attempt to answer them:

It's going great, Mark Zuckerberg.
Nothing much, Mark Zuckerberg.
I'm doing great, Mark Zuckerberg.
Life is happening, Mark Zuckerberg.
I'm feeling fine, Mark Zuckerberg.

Dear Mark Zuckerberg,

I sincerely appreciate your intense curiosity as to my whereabouts and my mental and emotional stability. I hope I have answered your questions honestly and adequately. It is so nice to know that there is a big guy sitting behind a desk somewhere who is interested to know how I am. I am doing great. If that answer changes by tomorrow, I will be sure to let you know.

I hope that you, Mark Zuckerberg, are doing fine as well. Be sure to leave a message on my wall, so I will know that you are okay.

Signed,

The-girl-who-takes-things-a-little-too-literally-and-is-pleasantly-surprised-to-know-that-someone-wants-to-know-how-she-is-feeling

'Tis the Season to be Jolly....

I love this time of year. I love the pretty holiday lights adorning the trees. I love the 'Seasons Greetings', I love the feeling in the air. Everyone is nicer around this time of year, cheer and goodwill being passed around. Kosher or not, I find myself humming the tunes to the holiday songs in the malls. They are very catchy.

'Tis the season. I look around me and everywhere I go I see people wearing red Santa hats. Maybe they are on sale at the Good Will store. They are cute and fun and in the holiday spirit. But they are most certainly a seasonal item.

A business acquaintance of mine was selling Chanukah items online a few weeks ago. Menorahs, candles, dreidels, etc. Someone bought a Menorah and then wanted to return it saying that their boss didn't like it. The guy said, this is a seasonal item, I can't take the return because I can't resell it after the holiday.

If someone were to wear a red Santa hat in the sweltering heat of July they would be looked at like they were deranged. Unless they were homeless, and then it might be excused by saying they got it for free. There is obviously a time and place to wear such clothing.

There is a time and place for everything.

"How can I help if I think you're funny when you're mad
Tryin' hard not to smile though I feel bad
I'm the kind of guy who laughs at a funeral"

Some people express the wrong emotions at any given time. Some people behave in ways that they shouldn't. The excuse that 'everyone else is doing it' won't hold up in court.

Make sure you know how to behave all the time. You don't want to get caught wearing a red Santa hat in July. 

In the business of lying

Integrity. It is hard to come by these days.

I don't know if I've ever come across a truly honest business in all my years of employment, and I include summer camps in that as well. There was always something that was slightly off. Some way where there were corners cut, things going on 'under the table', for the benefit of the employer. I really don't like working like that.

There was the camp I worked at one summer. We were a group of 8 girls, and we were given a mini van to drive- that sat 7. Do the math. I said, Rabbi, we need a bigger car. His reply: one girl can sit on the floor. I don't like people who think things are 'not a big deal', especially if it is involving the safety of other people.

Right out of seminary I eagerly circled the 'help wanted' ads and looked for a job. I finally got a job after emailing the guy 3 times with no response. He hired me because he 'liked my persistence.' Duh. Just respond to my first email and I have no need to email you again.

I will not say what the name of the company was, for privacy purposes, but the business in short, helped people who were in debt. Great worthy cause, you say? Well, the way it was done was to have girls like myself call up the bank and say "Hi I am so-and-so, I just lost my job, my husband is sick, we are being evicted, yadayada, I can't pay my bill, can we settle for X amount". That is called impersonating someone, and in addition to lying I am pretty sure it is illegal. After a few days there I was very uncomfortable with lying so I asked my boss and he said, in short- his business was endorsed by many Rabbis, he is helping poor families who owe a lot of money, and he basically insinuated that it is not my place to ask such questions. After a week, he said this is not working out, which worked great for me because I wanted to quit  but my father suggested to 'stick it out'.

It is so hard for me to lie. Who I work for or what I do is not important. But I constantly come across dishonesty, and it bothers me. The company line is, "it's business". So I guess, lie a little to get ahead? I asked my mother if there are any businesses that are completely honest and she said no.

I hope one day to be self-employed, to be able to make my own set of rules and conduct, and I hope that I can remain 100% pure and honest. To me, integrity comes before business or money any day. And if I am called a fool- so be it.

Say Nothing

They say the world is ending today. Good, because I'm tired and don't want to go to work tomorrow.

I had one of those days, the days where you come home and collapse and say, I need a break. Everything seemed to go wrong. My work wasn't good enough, I wasn't understanding people. That is when I sigh in exasperation and say "I hate people". Because sometimes people annoy me and I can't deal with them.

Sometimes I find it better to just keep quiet. Rather than talking yourself into a corner, stop talking. I think I have to figure out a way to deal with my co-workers as well as our clients without showing my annoyance. I should probably also get more sleep.

This week was a long stressful exhausting week and I am so glad it is over. I am about ready to move to an island and never have anything to do with people again.

Hibernation. Vow of silence. These are sounding good right about now.

TGIF.

I miss you (just a tiny little bit)

All emails gone now,
no trace that we ever met.
Sometimes it hurts
when I remember the things you said.

I haven't thought of you
in a long time now.
Until you pop up unexpected
random places, somehow.

It hurts no longer,
more like a dull ache left over.
You won't ever know,
because it doesn't really matter.

I made a choice,
the best thing for me.
I won't go back on my words,
there is no more "we".

You once told me of a song
that makes you sad when it plays.
It reminded you of me,
back in the good ole days.

I hurt for you,
wishing you'd move on.
Get over me,
learn new lyrics to the song.

But one night all alone,
your face popped up on the screen.
The words, "I miss you"
appeared in my head, unseen.

Doesn't matter really,
You won't ever matter again.
I chose a different path,
how I wanted my story to end.

Ya, I might think of you,
from time to time.
I might even transcribe it
in this silly little rhyme.

One day I'll look back
and it will all be clear.
Why I went through those things
that brought me here.

And your face, I'll see no longer,
and your voice I will forget.
And life will go on
as if we never met.

But tonight, for a fleeting second,
I missed you.
And I wonder if
you ever miss me too.

True Friends

True friends are the ones who are able to read between the lines, and know that when you say, "No need to bring me anything", they show up at your door with candy.

I definitely know how to pick them :-D   :-D

Living Single

I type this with hands numb from the cold. Why I felt the need to transcribe this right away is beyond me. Maybe I miss my mother's sympathetic 'poor Altie' every time I tell her of an unfortunate event that happened to me. So you, dear readers, will now be my sympathetic audience.

I have said that there are many great things that I enjoy about living on my own. (By that I mean independently of my family, not physically by myself.) Some of these things are, no parental scrutiny, (as if I have anything to hide), come and go as I please when it pleases me, buy whatever food I want, living by my own rules, etc.

Now I will discuss the downside of living on my own, and it has to do with my numb fingers.

If I don't buy food- I don't eat.

If I don't do laundry- I don't wear clean clothes.

If I don't buy shampoo- I don't wash my hair.

Now, in my defense, it has never come to that. I think it would be a sad sad day when I let myself go that much. Yes, there are times when I am too tired or too lazy to cook dinner and I have no normal ingredients to cook with anyway, so I will order dinner right to my door and it is awesome.

But then there are times like tonight. If I forget my key and there is no one else home- I sit outside for an hour in the cold drizzly weather waiting for someone to come home and open the door.

Sigh. I wish I was one of those people who knows someone for every situation. Like, hey I'll just call my friend the burglar locksmith to come open the door for me.

I could have done a number of things- hung out in a store, gone to my brother's apartment, crashed at a friend. But I didn't think it would take that long. So I sat and I waited and I wished that I was inside and that I heard the bell ring and I said, "Oh how annoying it is that I have to get up and open the door because some girl forgot her key". And now that girl is me.

Now I feel bad for homeless people.

Eight Nights

The last night of Chanuka is always a little sad, saying goodbye to the Menorah until next year.

Enjoy your last jelly doughnut!

Rush

I love that harried hurried haggard feeling you get,
the one that comes once a week, every Friday afternoon.

The one that puts you in good spirits,
where everyone wishes everyone who is anyone a 'good Shabbos'.

When all the frum Jews are out and about,
doing last minute shopping.

Flower vendors on every corner,
waiting patiently for their customers.

Store gates half down, ready to close as people rush towards the registers
arms full with last minute much needed purchases.

I love the feeling in the air,
that feeling so elusive but so tangible.

The clock ticking down,
one hour left to go.

I can almost smell the chicken soup cooking
on stoves throughout the neighborhood.

Chullent quietly bubbling in crock pots.
Last minute 'hop in the showers'.

Waiting for it to wind down,
waiting for the sound of the siren.

Heralding in the blessed peaceful day
which we wait for the whole week.

Siren sounds,
almost there.

Hair wet, getting dressed,
rushing.

Rushing.

R u s h i n g.

R  u  s  h  i  n  g.

R   u   s   h   i   n   g.

No more time.

Wave my hands over the candles,
cover my eyes and breath deeply.

Peace descends,
no more rushing.

It's Shabbos now.

Myself, myself!

My niece is adorable, and she started showing a strong independent side at a young age. She is 2 (and 3/4, close enough to being 3!) and being that I hardly ever get to see her, I try to bond with her when I go to visit. I took her on the swing, and when it was time for her to leave, I held her and started carrying her. She protested "Wanna walk, wanna walk!". So I quickly put her down.

She is constantly telling her mother, "I do myself, do myself!". Can't wait to see her when she starts dressing herself.

According to my mother, I was also an independent child. She tells me that I refused to hold her hand when we walked outside, that I ran ahead by myself. Children are like that. They want to explore the world in the protective bubble their parents create for them, exuding as much independence as they are allowed.

I love being independent. I didn't learn how to cook or bake until I was 16, (and away from home), because my mother always did everything for us. When I was 18 she offered to call summer camps for me to find me a job. To which I said, no thank you I can do that just fine by myself thank you very much.

I am now living on my own, fully self-supportive, and loving it. There are rare times when I will ask for help, and when I do it is usually out of desperation.

There was the time I agreed to substituted for a friend in a playgroup in Manhattan. I am not proud of it, but I am not very familiar with the City. I took the wrong train and ended up on the opposite side of town. I was already running late. So I called my father. At the time, he was paying my cell phone bill, and had the GPS tracking activated. He went online, saw where I was, and told me how to get to my destination. (That was before I owned a smart phone.)

I don't like to ask for help, or directions. I pride myself on being able to figure things out on my own. I'm going through a stage at work with a co-worker of mine, where instead of asking him every time I have a tiny question, I try my best to figure it out on my own. He is finding it really funny, and told me that he doesn't mind me asking him questions. But I avoided him all day (he laughed every time he saw me and I didn't say a word to him.) We will see how long that lasts.

I have another problem, and that is procrastination. (We will not get into it here. This is not mental therapy time.) Procrastination, together with not asking for help, makes for pretty disastrous and stressful situations. And when I am stressed plus desperate and pressed for time, I make bad decisions.

The funny thing is, I usually know all along that I can do it just fine on my own, and that I don't need help. I want help. I want someone else to do it for me. I want support. I want a cheering squad. I want someone to tell me, "You are doing great, you can do this, you will be just fine." (Just realized that sounds like something you tell a woman in labor.)

But the truth is, I can do it by myself, just as I've done just fine on my own until now.

Now, if I can only figure out how to stop procrastinating and get to work...

Why are you following me?

Alone.

It is such a weird word. It can be used in so many situations and mean different things.

'A lone wolf'. A brooding guy sitting at a bar drinking a beer and giving off signals that say keep away.

'Leave me alone'. I don't want you around right now, so stop bothering me.

'Alone with my thoughts'. A peaceful kind of solitude, undisturbed by other people.

Lonesome. Lonely or deserted. Remote; isolated.

Sometimes I enjoy being alone, like a Saturday night curled up in pajamas and a sweatshirt eating popcorn and watching a movie.

Sometimes I feel lonely even in a crowded room, maybe I want someone to come over and talk to me or maybe I'd rather not be there at all.

Sometimes I hate being alone, my apartment is too quiet, so I hang out with some friends or go to a crowded place just to drown out the silence.

I'm walking by myself late at night, and there is someone walking in front of me. I try to always be aware of my surroundings, but instinctual or not, I never turn around when I hear another person walking behind me.

Many people do. They hear leaves rustling and they turn around and glance at me and then continue walking.

I look harmless enough. Just an innocent girl walking alone at night.

Stop looking at me. I am not following you. I am not trying to stalk you. You do not even have anything that looks worth stealing.

It is an annoying habit that people have.

And I just continue on my way thinking of my next destination, or a book I'm reading, or anything at all.

Today I heard someone walking behind me and did not turn around. I figured they would pass me by. I unlocked the door to my office and walked inside- and sensed someone behind me.

I turned around on the stairs to see my co-worker walking up behind me. Apparently he had been 'following' me for about a block or so and didn't bother to say 'hey what's up'. I told him he could have been a killer and he said 'I know, right?'

That should teach me to be more careful.

Free-Fall

I love the freedom of driving. I love being in control. Every time I am 'home' I take the opportunity to go for a drive just for the fun of it.

There is a hill near my house, and I have one guilty pleasure. On my way home, every time I approach the top of the hill going down, I press the gas peddle and then let go.

I feel like I am flying, suspended in free-fall. My stomach gets the lightweight feeling it does when I am in a rapidly descending elevator.

There is a stop sign at the bottom of the hill and I know I have to slow down and prepare to stop.

But for that one moment, I just let go and enjoy the fall.

12/12/12 12:12

Dear World,

I can't resist documenting this. That was even fun to write. One more time:

12/12/12 12:12 PM.

Now we just need to add a new month so we can have 13/13/13.

Oh well.

This is not pretty

Dear MTA,

Screw you. You suck. And you owe me $6.75. I'll take a check, please.
Train not running-->already paid the fair-->transfer to bus for free-->need to transfer to another bus-->charge me again. Not my fault.
Okay, the whole trip was a waste really. A waste of time and money. Who shall I sue...?

I have a saying. It goes:  "Without pudding, there is no fun in life." (Copyright 2012). 

Tonight, I didn't have pudding. But, it being Chanuka, I went to get donuts. I would like to say, "It's all good" (copyright 2012) but it's not really. 

I need a release. What do you do? Do you run? Do you scream? Do you punch? I have pent up energy (annoyance) and I don't know what to do with it. 

Cover your ears please:

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


I think I feel better now.

Wait- 

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

Wow. Okay. Who said virtual screaming doesn't help?

Happy Chanuka.

The message of Chanukah

We learn that
the lesson of Chanukah is
the victory of light over darkness,
and good over evil.

We won.
We are free men now.
Free to light menorah in public.
Free to do as we please.

If we are free,
then why would you hide like a coward?

I saw him, very often.
With a kippah on his head,
and thought nothing of it.
Another religious Jew like me.

Until,
today,
the kippah was missing.
And that made me wonder.

My heart pounding,
I tried to decide
if I should say something to him.

Like,
Hey! Happy Chanukah,
By the way,
where's your kippah?

And of course,
I would start off by saying,
ironically,
"This is so not like me.

I don't usually butt in
to other people's business...
But I just felt the need to say something."
So original.

I struggled to decide
if it was my place
to put him in his.
But really, isn't that what Chanukah is all about?

We don't stay home,
we go out,
with our car top menorahs,
and we SPREAD the word.

Because that is what we are supposed to do.
So how can I stay silent,
when I see another Jew,
hiding who he is?

In the end,
he 'got away'.
I missed the opportunity.

Happy Chanuka,
my fellow Jew.
I hope your kippah isn't lonely,
somewhere deep down in the recesses of
your dark pocket.

While this holiday,
we are working so hard
to spread the light
into the world.

To all you Spinsters: this one's for you

My father knows how much I love to read, and I usually trust his judgement on books. When he handed me a book to read over Shabbos, I gratefully accepted it thinking it would be a good read. Then I glanced at the cover, and read the description, and grew suspicious. It sounded very much like a 'frum' book. Which didn't make any sense, because I don't read Jewish novels anymore. I have no patience for them. I like to read secular fiction, mysteries, thrillers. He said, "I think you will like it". So I read it. And here are my thoughts.

The book is called "The Outside World", by Tova Mirvis. The author grew up religious, in Memphis, Tennessee. She writes the book from a perspective of an insider. I am not sure if this book is geared towards the religious community or the secular world. Maybe both. Or neither. But I was reading reviews of the book and a Mormon woman commented that she really enjoyed it. I'm not sure I would recommend reading it, but we will get to that.

The first thing that made me laugh was the front flap. "Tzippy Goldman's mother has been planning her wedding since before she was born. Her four younger sisters want her to marry the crown prince of Boro Park. But Tzippy, approaching spinsterhood at the age of twenty-two, has other ideas." Sorry, older singles. It seems there is no hope for you.

The short version of the book is: 2 families, one ultra-Orthodox and one Modern-Orthodox. Tzippy comes from the ultra-Orthodox world of Boro Park, where she is forced to go on date after date to meet the perfect guy. On her 42nd date (wow) she says enough is enough, she is sick of dating. To her mothers horror, she leaves home and goes to Israel to learn in a seminary there. Her mother thinks she will be passing up all the good boys if she is not at home to date. But Tzippy just needs to get away.

Bryan grew up in a Modern-Orthodox household in New Jersey. Mod, Dad, and 2 kids, (no dog), they lead a happy albeit not very religious life. Bryan, like all other boys his age, is obsessed with baseball, basketball, and girls. He goes to Israel for a year after high school to learn in a yeshiva, which is the norm in his world before he would go on to Columbia University. Ivy Leagues are their pride and joy. In Israel, after scoffing at the unfamiliar, he finally realizes what is true and good, and he slowly becomes more religious. When he returns home there are family disputes due to his 'holier-than-thou' attitude, and he returns to Israel for a 3rd year in yeshiva.

Tzippy's in Israel. Bryan (now called Baruch) is in Israel. Tzippy watches as all her classmates get engaged and still she wonders, "When will it happen for me?". She finally decides to take matters into her own hands, so she goes out into the street and starts checking out all the guys she sees (gasp). She keeps seeing Baruch around the neighborhood, and she follows him. Nay, she chases after him. Then, she trips and falls and he turns around and notices her and sees how pretty she is, and then they realize that they know each other. Their moms were roommates in college, and they used to play together as kids. Now, they are both grown up, and shy, and not used to talking to the opposite gender. (Now that Baruch is remade).

They get 'set up' on a shidduch date, they don't tell their parents, (scandalous). Tzippy's roommates at first disapprove of how they met, but then they press her for details. Tzippy and Baruch date for over 10 weeks, and slowly start talking about marriage.

He finally proposes to her in a falafel stand, she is unprepared and wearing a jean skirt (oh my god) and then they finally tell their parents. They both go home to prepare for the wedding.

There is a scene during their engagement party where they are sitting alone together on the porch, and Tzippy lightly touches his hand. Baruch takes her hand in his, and then he leans in to embrace her, almost going as far as kissing her. Then he realizes what he is doing and he pulls away. But not before his little sister sees what happened, and she thinks they are hypocrites and in fact no better than her.

This book is an interesting mix of religiosity and secularism. Tzippy's mother was a baal teshuva but she never told her kids, thinking that if she hid it very well and acted like everyone else, no one would discover her deep dark secret, that she used to eat treif and dress untzniusly. They keep a TV in their house, but "they weren't even supposed to know it was there, its presence an unacceptable connection to the outside world. It had long ago been smuggled into the house in an air-conditioner box to hide it from the neighbors, all of whom had done the same thing. The kids played with Barbie dolls, "only Barbie had been renamed Frayda Baila, while Ken was called Avraham Dovid. The two dolls snuck forbidden glances in shul and went out on shidduch dates......They dressed their dolls in outfits that were sometimes modest, sometimes revealing. Sometimes Frayda Baila made Shabbos dinner for Avraham Dovid. Other times she took off her clothes and lay down on top of him." (Not sure where the kids would even know that from.)

Tzippy's mother tries so hard to fit in with all the other women, she goes crazy over the wedding, stressing how they must be fancier and more lavish than all the other weddings, spending more money then they have. Months after the wedding, it finally all becomes too much for her, she can't pretend anymore, so she has a (seemingly) nervous break-down and lets her house fall apart.

This book was an interesting read. It is a mix of proper and improper, permissible and forbidden.It lightly touches on the wedding night, and their nervousness at finally being allowed to touch. It has sweet parts, and funny parts, frustrating parts, and some parts that make you question yourself. Tzippy decides she wants to go to college, and her (now) husband looks at her and wonders where the sweet innocent girl that he married went. (Of course, because going to college is the equivalent of 'going off the D'.) She even hides it from her parents, thinking that they would be disappointed in her.

This is not an accurate book review and I don't expect an A. If this piqued your curiosity at all, then go ahead and read the book.

My thoughts on it were: It was an interesting look into a world that is not mine, but similar. I may share similar values with the characters in the story, but my practices and beliefs are different. I thought it was humorous, sarcastic at times, spot on in certain instances. Would I recommend it? I don't know. A secular person might read the book and say, wow they are not all that different from us. A religious person might read the book and say, scandalous, we need to ban this from all libraries so our kids don't read it.

I read it and thought, now I don't despise religious books as much. Although, the author seems more modern than Orthodox, but it's hard to tell.

So here is a message to all you (barely 22) spinsters out there: there is hope for you! You just need to go out and chase the guy of your dreams, maybe trip at his feet. Oh and one more thing- Baruch was younger than Tzippy (by like 2 years) so, go for younger guys. They are (sometimes) worth it.

Procrastination

I hate
this character trait
every time I procrastinate
it makes me late.

I wait
to create
hoping the pressure will abate
but it just inflates.

The time ticks away
no more hours in the day
I don't know what to say
now it's time to pray.

The more I delay
myself I betray
to my dismay
it won't turn out okay.

Don't know what to do
not sure I'll pull through
my resolutions I need to renew
rules I must stick to.

It said 'due when done'
but I have not even begun
this pressure weighs a ton
sit down or I will run.

How do I say 'help me'
without asking for help
because I need to do this on my own
but I can't.

The clock has struck twelve
the ticking stops
time has run out.
And I have failed.

Sigh.

What AM I looking for?

They all tell me,

in a hopeful positive voice,

"Hope you find what you are looking for". 

And that leaves me wondering

what that even means,

and if I am really looking.

I sit on the couch 

late at night

while everyone sleeps peacefully.

Knees drawn up to my chest

to keep warm.

I know it's cold outside.

I can hear the rain

pitter-pattering on the metal porch roof.

It calls to me.

I step outside

in pajamas and socks

and I watch the rain and the silent street.

A lone car drives by,

and I wonder if they see me.

I wonder if anyone knows I'm here.

What will happen if I don't figure things out?

Will life happen anyway?

What kind of person will I be?

I enjoy the rain and the silence

until the chill seeps in

and becomes a part of me.

Until the doubts become too much

and I need a respite.

I need sleep.

The questions won't ever stop,

and I will never stop wondering

wishing and hoping.

But when the silence gets too loud

and the void becomes too deep,

will I be able to do what I need to do?

Will I be able to ask the questions?

Or am I hiding because

I am too afraid to know the answers?

Time to pray?

I passed by a Mosque today, itself a weird sight in Brooklyn. The reason I noticed it was because of the call to prayer playing pretty loudly. Thanks to Wikipedia, I now know that it is called adhān (Arabic: أَذَان), and that it plays 5 times a day calling all Muslims to pray.

I thought it was interesting. What is the equivalent (lehavdil) in Judaism? Yes we are supposed to pray 3 times a day, and yes it is a 'mitzva shezman grama', it is dependent on a specific time. But aside from the daily call in my office of 'Mincha!' (of which sadly I am never asked to participate in), we don't actually have a reminder.

Does that mean that it is so ingrained in us that we don't need a reminder?

I don't think so. being that I am not a man, I don't feel the obligation as acutely. That doesn't mean I am any less obligated or that I am allowed to take it lightly. But unfortunately it is something I need to work on.

I was on a bus today going to Monsey for Shabbos. There was some sort of accident involving the bus, and we had to sit there for 45 minutes while the police report was filed. I started getting nervous that I wouldn't get to Monsey in time for Shabbos. (Me and the rest of the bus. That's what happens when the whole bus is religious Jews.)

So I started mumbling some tehillim by heart. Then a negative voice inside my head said, "What are you doing, it won't help. You will not get there in time for Shabbos, you will need to stay here with no plans and no food".

And then a battling voice said, "Stop. You know prayer always helps". I said one more chapter of tehillim, and 2 minutes later the driver got back on the bus and we were on our way.

Do we need to be reminded to pray? Do we need to wait until stressful negative situations to turn to G-d and say, 'help me out a little'?

Let this be a reminder that G-d wants to hear from us more often. Maybe not 5 times a day, maybe you cannot do it at a set time, but He is there and He is waiting.

Have a good Shabbos (From Monsey B"H :) :) )

10:10

It is perfection. It is beauty. It is breathtaking. It is mine.

I am beginning a new chapter in my life- with a new phone.

To some people it may just be a phone, but to me it is a relationship. If I am going to be glued to my phone all day, (and let's face it, that is what happens) then I need to be comfortable with it, and it with me. We need to 'get' each other. We need to sync. I am taking some time to adjust to it, and learn its ins and outs before I activate it. Call it bonding, if you will.

I think 10:10 is a perfect number.

Some other perfect things in life:

Spray perfume on your coat, and you will always smell nice.

A girls night out with friends is always fun, no matter where you go.

Family Chanuka party on the first night of Chanuka.

The smell of new boots.

The pretty holiday lights.

Another perfect number:

This post is my 900th post!!!!!!! Tip your hats to me :) :) :)

Don't take my A away

It is the greatest feeling when you achieve something big after substantial work and effort.

The question is- is it ever enough? Or will you be encouraged to do better?

You run 1 mile and they say, "Good, but not good enough. Now run 10."

I just want to be happy with what I accomplished. I am. Can I do better? Maybe. Probably. But am I not allowed to be content with what I already did?

We must take a lesson in life from everything we do, and never be satisfied that it is enough.

But let me be happy. Right now I don't want to know what I can do to better my achievement.

I just want to revel in it.

I'm doing great and I am proud of myself. And that is what matters.

Censoring your words

They say I don't have a filter. I find that funny, because there are so many thoughts in my head that I don't actually say. It is the ones that I do say that I get in trouble for. Maybe not trouble. But I get a vibe, a sense that maybe I shouldn't have said that.

It is small things. My roommate asked me if I would go to her lechaim when she got engaged. I responded, "Well, if we are still living together then I guess I'll have to." They all laughed. What I meant was, if we drift apart then maybe I wouldn't feel like going, but if we were still roommates then of course I would go. (P.S. she has since moved out, and I would still go to her lechaim.)

I had a Friday night meal together with friends. One girl made a dessert, which was good, however I decided to suggest an alternative ingredient which I thought would work better. Afterwards I thought, maybe I shouldn't have said anything. Just tell her that it was good.

We are confronted with these situations every day. People ask you for your opinion: "Does this dress look good on me?" "Should I get side bangs?" The question is, should we answer honestly, or say a half truth? Does the person even want the truth? And even so, there is still a way to say it. And what about just offering advice where it is not sought out?

I don't talk in the morning. It's a rule. And when I am tired, I am very blunt. My friend said that I just speak my mind. Which is partly true. But sometimes I say something and right after I think, wow that was not very nice. Or, there was a much nicer way I could have said that.

When someone is making noise and you are trying to sleep, do you ask them nicely to quiet down, or do you say to them, with attitude, "You are being really noisy"?

When you are exasperated and trying to get your point across, do you say, "I just explained that a million times", like, how could you not get it? Or do you calmly try to explain it one more time?

So many times in social situations I find myself thinking, maybe I am socially retarded. Ever met someone who is not a very nice person, but they mask it pretty well? Is censoring your words simply about acting, learning how to mask them well? Can we all just say what we want, if we twist it in a way that doesn't make us sound like horrible people?

I find it easier to just speak my mind, instead of thinking before I say anything, how will this person take it, how will my words impact the world. But I am not even talking about the ripple effect, or the fact that after you say them you cannot take them back. I mean, how does it make me feel? Do I say something and then feel like an immature child for getting involved in a petty argument?

To be a mature functioning individual in society, we have to learn how to be careful with what we say and how we say it. Because of Lashon Harah, because of politeness, common courtesy, simply being a nice person.

And self-respect. Will you walk away feeling like a fool for saying something so dumb? Will you be embarrassed to hear your own words played back to you? Will you be appalled that you ever said something so blunt?

They tell me that I'm blunt but I tell them- imagine the many things that I never bother to say.

Positive or negative?

There are always two ways to look at everything. Depending on your attitude, that is how things will turn out.

Negative:

Tonight is Yud Tes Kislev. The negative part is that I didn't even realize until my roommate pointed it out. I am sick with a cold, exhausted, and totally fine with letting the day pass like any other day.

A brief hirstory: (From Chabad.org)

Liberation of R. Schneur Zalman of Liadi (1798)

 

On the 19th of Kislev of the year 5559 from creation (1798), Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi -- a leading disciple of Rabbi DovBer of Mezeritch (see previous entry) and the founder of Chabad Chassidism -- was released from his imprisonment in the Peter-Paul fortress in Petersburg, where he was held for 53 days on charges that his teachings threatened the imperial authority of the Czar. More than a personal liberation, this was a watershed event in the history of Chassidism heralding a new era in the revelation of the "inner soul" of Torah, and is celebrated to this day as "The Rosh Hashanah of Chassidism."

"Rosh Hashanah of Chassidism"; begin Tanya study cycle

 

Chassidim joyfully celebrate today and tomorrow as the Rosh Hashanah ("new year") of Chassidism (see "Today in Jewish History"), with farbrengens (Chassidic gatherings) and an increased commitment to the ways and teachings of Chassidism. Tachnun (supplication) and similar prayers are omitted. We begin anew the yearly cycle of the daily study of the Tanya, Rabbi Schneur Zalman's major Chassidic work (as part of the "Chitas" daily study program.)

When I was in school, every Chassidishe yom tov was marked with farbrengins, programs, special lunches, and being allowed to wear Shabbos clothes as opposed to uniforms. We felt the specialty of the day. Growing up Lubavitch, these values and special days were ingrained in me.

Naturally, it is harder when not in an organized setting to observe the Chassidishe yomim tovim. Sometimes the day just passes and I don't even realize. And then I feel guilty, because how can I forget? Does it not mean anything to me?

Positive:

But I did remember. And it is a special day. And I will try to mark the day by learning tanya, and spreading some light into the world.

And excerpt from Hayom Yom:

"A day of farbrengen and good resolutions towards establishing times to study the revealed Torah12 and Chassidus publicly, and in bolstering the ways of chassidim in true friendship."

"לשנה טובה - בלימוד החסידות ודרכי החסידות - תכתבו ותחתמו"

May you have a good year in the learning of Chassidus and the ways of Chassidus. 

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

I missed you, America. Once I got passed customs and saw that American flag standing proud on American territory, I almost cried.

Okay, I didn't cry. Not even a little bit. But it definitely feels good to be back.

The wedding was, in a word: Amazing! This is what I remember of it (or what my exhausted brain can compute right now):

-Beautiful kallah
-Fun dancing
-Funniest little girl sitting next to me and chatting me up (niece of the kallah. The funniest thing she said: it was her birthday that night. She just turned 9. She gives this big sigh and says, 'It's just so hard.' I asked her what is so hard and she says so seriously, 'You know, 9 is a really big difference from 8.' Sweetie, just wait until you are my age.)
 -Standing outside for the chuppah in freezing sub-zero Celsius weather. (About -17 Celsius.... which is pretty cold.)

Everything else was a blur. Oh, and I went shopping and bought boots. So, all in all a productive 2 days.

I'm not so sure the American agent at customs was as happy to see me as I was to see him. I was expecting an open arms welcome back, but got no such thing. Just 'have a safe trip'. Thanks, you too.

Canadians are such weirdos. (My apologies to any Canadian readers.) I had a stopover in Montreal. Everything was in French. I hate French. Ever watched Tinkerbell in French? Ew. The guards there wear weirdly shaped hats:

The whole place was white. Apparently the snow doesn't melt until June.

It was a fun 2 days, all traveling done (Thank G-d), now it's back to work and back to life. And I think I'm getting sick.

To the beautiful kallah: Mazal Tov! I am so happy I was able to be there. And may we all celebrate many many more simchas this year!!

What is normal, really?

I'm so exhausted and I wish I was at home in my bed and not trying to get comfortable on a hard airport chair.

Everything got screwed up. I blame it on the airline. For some reason my flight was scheduled for 5 hours EARLIER than scheduled and I was not told about it at all. No email or call. How did that happen? I have no idea.

I was informed that my itinerary is completely wrong as well. Is it because I booked it through a travel site and not directly through the airline? Is it because I booked it 3 months ago and the flight changed since then? Does it matter? How can they screw up like that?

My mother says I should sue them. Sue happy America.

Doesn't matter. One flight cancelled one flight delayed one really long stopover. What is going on here? I WILL be at that wedding.

I hate the airline and I hate Canada. Unjustified? Maybe so. But I'm too tired to care.


Granola bar for dinner, forced to use tiny bathroom stalls and the free fragrance samples at The Body Shop to freshen up and feel human again...

I hate traveling. Thursday have to do it all over again.

Please excuse my negative tone. I am typing this on my iTouch, I have no phone service and airports make me crabby.

Goodnight all.

Oh Canada....

As I'm writing this, I'm freaking out and trying to remember if I packed my passport. Because our friendly neighbors no longer let us in their country without it. It is like we are criminals... Gosh.

I am not a horrible traveler, but it does make me nervous. Especially being that I am only taking a carry-on and trying to properly pack my tiny 3 oz. bottles according to the TSA regulations. Hey, I am just doing my part to keep our country safe, even though I don't see how someone couldn't figure out how to build a bomb with 3 oz. bottles of liquid. Oh, never say the word 'bomb' in an airport, unless you want security all over you, and to miss your flight.

I don't much like Canada. Or Canadians. There. I said it.

Okay, I like a select few Canadians. After all, I did spend 4 years of my life there.

The occasion: the best and only reason to travel to that desolate land. A wedding! My close friend is getting married and I am so looking forward. Out of town weddings (meaning out of New York, and yes I know how pretentious that sounds) are generally smaller, so each guest is more appreciated, and I am very happy to be a part of it.

I have my dancing shoes ready:

(Hottttt)

I am not taking my laptop and will most likely not have phone service, so this is goodbye for 3 days. Oh, I will miss you...

Building Blocks

I have a hard time editing something that I have already written. To me, it is like doing the work all over again. But editing and revising is a central part of any great piece of writing. It must be done.

7 PM: Gonna sit down to work on my paper....

7:30: Check some emails first...

8:00: What's new on Facebook...

9:00: I'm hungry, need some food...

10:00: Just going to watch one show, to get my brain moving...

11:00: Time to start?

11:30: No, snack time

12 AM: Time to start in on my essay...

1 AM: Good work, time for a break...

3 AM: (head slumped on table) zzzzzzzzz

Okay time to go to sleep.

12 PM (next day): Time to work on paper

Need food first.

No food. Need to go shopping.

Don't feel like getting dressed....

Okay, work on paper.

1 PM-4 PM: Grrrrrrr...... Cut, paste, copy, move, delete, add, keep, or discard, too much information, too little, do I like it, do I hate it, is it worthy of an A, should I get a second opinion.....

Editing is very much like blocks. Move some around, until you are happy with the setup.

4 PM: I think I'm done. Hold on to it for awhile till I hand it in, just to make sure....

5 PM: Time to start my day!

I love Sundays. The Power of Procrastination......

But I think the essay turned out pretty good.

Your lips are moving but all I hear is...

Bla bla bla.

Were you ever in an argument with someone and they just wouldn't stop talking? Everything they say is a lie, and they keep putting words in your mouth and telling you what you are thinking and feeling. And all you want to do is tell them to shut up, or better, shove your fist in their face...

Some people just love to have the last word, and they will take it no matter what. Even if it means sticking their fingers in their ears and saying "lalala I can't hear you!".

I call that immaturity. What is wrong with settling an argument peacefully and civilly? Agree to disagree. Difference of opinions. Hear the other person out, maybe tell them you think they are wrong, then shake on it and go your separate ways.

My mother always told me to walk away from a fight. I didn't like that. I always wanted to stay and fight, stand my ground, prove my point. I wanted to win.

But sometimes really winning means letting it go. If the other person wants to feel big, let them. Even if you know that they trampled you to get there.

Sometimes in a fight, there is no end. Maybe a stalemate. Sometimes the two people in a fight honestly cannot work things out. Their differences get in the way, their temperaments clash, they dislike each other to a point where no matter what is said they will both leave feeling annoyed and misunderstood. 

In that case, the best thing to do is just stop talking. Let it go. Cool off. Forget about them. No need to stress over someone that is not worth it.

Because no matter how hard you try to make them understand, they will merely sneer and say something to belittle you, because in order to feel like the bigger person they need to make you feel small.

My mom told me to walk away, and this time I think she is right.

Being a kid again

I drop my bags as I run towards it, my surroundings fading away. Leaves are falling all around me, getting caught in my hair. The sun is shining down, glinting off the metal fence surrounding me.

I close my eyes and inhale deeply, and start moving. Slowly at first, I soon gain momentum. I can feel myself flying. Head thrown back, hair blowing in the wind, feet kicking, pumping, pumping, going higher and higher and faster and faster.

Soaring. This is freedom.

People are looking at me but I don't care. I laugh gleefully and continue swinging merrily.

Today, I am a kid too.

Have a good Shabbos, and never silence the child inside of you.

Disappointment

How do you explain to an outsider why there are people who want to kill us?

When we heard about the escalating war going on in Israel, and the three people who were killed in a missile attack, we were discussing it in my office. A non-Jewish co-worker asked quite innocently, "Why do they want to kill you?". I didn't really have an answer other than, it is an inborn eternal hatred and there really isn't any reason.

She asked, what happens if the Palestinians take over Jerusalem? Where do they want the Jews to go? I answered cynically, "Into the sea."

It can't be explained. Mostly, I don't understand it myself. For years, I heard about terrorist attacks in Israel, suicide bombers, stone throwing, missiles launched, and I thought, why do they let it happen? Why don't they fight back?

I heard all about 'politics', and protection, and 'Israel needs America's support'. But never once did I hear, let us go in there and fight and defend ourselves until every terrorist is dead.

During Operation Pillar of Defense, I followed the news daily, reading about every single rocket that fell in Israel, every single site that the IDF managed to destroy in Gaza, and I thought 'Yes! This is finally it!'. PM Netanyau was quoted as saying, "we will continue to take whatever action is necessary to defend our people," going so far as a ground incursion if it comes to that.

Even President Obama said that Israel has a right to defend itself, and that "There's no country on Earth that would tolerate missiles raining down on its citizens from outside its borders".

It all seemed to be going in the right direction until.... Cease Fire. That says it all.

The problem with a ceasefire is, it is just a temporary respite from the attacks. It gives the Palestinians time to regroup, to bury their dead, to rebuild, and to come back stronger wit more missiles than before. What's the point? Like a hornet's nest, if you don't get them all the first time, they will just multiply.

Obama commended Israel on the way it handled the ceasefire. Of course. With that much pressure to end the war, what choice did they have? 

This picture pretty much sums it up:

This picture says it all.  "Cease Fire Starts....Air Raid Sirens in Beer Sheva" 

And that is all. The war is over. Israel won. And yet they are still suffering.

There's a 'joke' going around Facebook- "The definition of a ceasefire: Israel ceases, and Hamas fires". 

It is a big disappointment. It is frustrating to watch the most persecuted country in the world let others hurt them every day and not fight back.

Netanyahu: "Now, I realize that there are citizens who expect a harsher military action and we may very well need to do that. But at present, the right thing for the State of Israel is to exhaust this possibility of reaching a long-term cease-fire. As Prime Minister, I have the responsibility, and it is the highest responsibility, to make the right steps to ensure our security. That is what I have done and it is what I will continue to do."

It will never be enough, because evil will never disappear, until we destroy it to the very end.

We need Moshiach now.

Lost in Translation

Learn a foreign language. It's on my long list of things to accomplish in my lifetime. But learning takes time. And effort. And not many people can speak a second language with a perfect accent.

In my company we deal with many foreign clients who live outside the US. Most of our foreign clients speak Spanish, but we've had Chinese and Arabic as well.

We have a really cool resource: an account with a translation service. We call the service, say what language we need, provide the clients information, and then they connect you with an interpreter and the client.

The first time that I used it was weird. Each translator is different. Some of them are totally impartial, repeating word for word what the client said, even speaking in first person as if they themselves said it.

Then there are the ones who insert themselves into the conversation like they are a part of our company. One interpreter kept telling me, "I told him that we are trying to help him, that we would like to offer him...". I thought it was funny.

Then there are the ones who try to joke with you like they are your best friend. Which makes me wonder what they are saying about us to the clients, when we can't understand. I'd imagine it would go something like this:

"Los estadounidenses están tan tonto, ¿no? Lo único que quieren hacer es engañar a usted fuera de su dinero. Vamos a ordeñar por todo lo que vale la pena. Tú y yo juntos, hombre. Podemos hacerlo."

Then there is the translation itself. I don't know how expanded other languages are, but what I do know is- it is impossible that what the client said in a two minute monologue can be translated into five words. Something was definitely lost in translation, or paraphrased:

"Dios bendiga a América, tierra que me encanta. Párese junto a ella, y guiarla a través de la noche con una luz de lo alto. Desde las montañas, a las praderas, A los océanos, blancos con espuma Dios bendiga a Estados Unidos, mi hogar, dulce hogar Dios bendiga a América, mi hogar, dulce hogar."

"He said- everything is in order." Yup.

I also wonder how the interpreter can remember everything I just said in order to accurately repeat it to the client. Then there is the awkward silence, if I am connected to the client but the interpreter has not come on the line yet, and neither of us can communicate.

I am picking up words here and there and responding even before the interpreter finishes translating. A funny thing happened once- the interpreter started telling the client what I was saying, and the guy interrupted and started speaking in almost perfect English. The interpreter was left with nothing to do but listen to us talk.

It is an interesting experience. I have some down time to sit back and 'watch the show' so to speak. It takes time to translate what I am saying, let the other person talk, and translate it again. So I take a break and get some other work done. Sometimes I put the call on mute and chat with my coworkers. 

Having a 'middleman' so to speak takes pressure off me in the case where the client is not happy, and makes the interpreter the 'bad guy'. He acts like a buffer, because my words are not actually making an impact.
It also gives me a chance to retract or change my words before they are related to the client.

Sometimes I don't know if I should say 'you are...' or say 'tell him that...' Theoretically I am speaking directly to the client, albeit through another person, but it feels weird to direct my words at the client, so mostly I end up saying, 'please tell him..'

It is weird not knowing how my words are being translated and explained. Of course translation is a funny thing. For some words there are many translations in a different language, and sometimes none at all. It is up to the interpreter's discretion how to translate it. Even in Google translate things come out weird or stilted or make no sense.

I know a lot gets lost in translation. Sometimes the meaning changes, sometimes the very best things you try to say comes across as cold or rude. Language barriers can be a big deal.

Which is why I will never marry a foreigner.

My Tomato

Ever had someone in your life who was bad for you? I'm not talking insane stalker who threatened everyone you loved, and killed your cat. I am referring to the variety of bad influences that you find in every day life. The ones who convince you to cut class. The ones who tell you to shoplift because it's fun.

A more practical example is a person who is simply not healthy for you. They belittle you, they hurt your confidence, they are like a poison to your carefully constructed life. The solution: get rid of them.

But what if it is not so simple? Oh, I have heard that line a million times. And generally, 'not so simple' means that you know exactly what to do, you just don't want to do it.

But what if said person just keeps cropping up? And despite your brains warning signs of 'Danger! Danger! Keep away!', you just have this pull, this desire to have them around.

We all have toxic things in our lives. Too much television, too much candy. That ice cream, that chocolate bar. Things we know are bad for us, and yet we indulge in them. Call it guilty pleasure.

I have this theory. I call it 'my tomato.' I hate tomatoes. I always have. But everyone always made them look so good and juicy. So every once in awhile, I would try it, thinking, maybe this time I will like it. To this day, I still hate tomatoes.

Your tomato is the person you know who is not good for you, and yet every once in awhile you say, 'let's try again, maybe this time it will not be so bad.' But it is still bad. Maybe this time it is worse.

And I wonder, why do we do that to ourselves? Do we not remember just how bad this person/thing is for us? What is wrong with us? Are we insane?

We are not insane. At least, I don't think I'm insane. I hope not. I can't deal with insanity.

So I sit on a bench in the cold night air, with millions of cars rushing by me at high speed. And I ask myself, what should I do?

I'm a smart person. I usually know what to do, deep inside. They say to trust your own instincts. So I try.

My instincts are telling me to get in a car and drive far away and never come back.

So I ask again. And this time I hit upon the right answer.

'Go home', my inner voice says. Go home. Make dinner. Make a lunch. Do your work. Fold your laundry. Focus. You have a life. You have responsibilities. Why are you sitting here dreaming of being anywhere else, when you have a pretty good life waiting for you at home?

And I know what to do. I have always known what to do. It is that simple.

Throw out my tomato. And never look back.

The next big thing is already here

I watched communication deteriorate. When I started high school, girls would sit together on the bus on the way to school, and talk to each other. We had fun, we sang, we shared, we enjoyed each other's company.

Enter: MP3 players. This was before the iPod became globally famous. Girls would have their tiny MP3 players with headphones in ears and every morning in each seat would be girl, girl, girl, girl, with blank sleepy expressions on their faces, listening to music and dead to the world. No more communication. People would hesitate to sit next to them, unwilling to disturb their space.

And then it spiraled from there. iPods. Video iPods. iPod nanos. iPod touch. iPad. And now mini iPads.

Kindles, and nooks, and smart phones. And it never stops. iPhone, iPhone 4, iPhone 4S, iPhone 5. It is never enough.

The more they make, the more they try to make better. Last year's model car is not good enough. No, now you need to lease the newer 2013 model.

Trade in your laptop for newer and better. Touch screen laptops. Tablets. Every year a new make and model. The old one expires five minutes after you buy it.

And I just want to say, enough. Just stop. Isn't it enough? Why can't we just be happy with what we already have? Why must we be thinking about 'the next big thing' the second after we buy something?

I see all the ads and I want what they are selling. I want everything. I don't need it. I desire it. I want a new phone. I want a kindle. (Chanukah gift, anyone?) I want what they are selling, because they make me feel like without it, I am lacking.

Progress is good. I know that. Advances in science and medicine is good. The more they search, the more they improve, the better it will be for society. Imagine a cure for cancer. G-d willing one day there will be one. Imagine a surgery that can make blind people see. That already exists. Because nobody stopped and said, okay that is enough for now, I think we are pretty advanced, let's give it a rest.

But in the area of physical possessions- people don't stop. Cars, houses, vacations, jobs. It is just never enough.

There was a news article in which mothers were asking the city to ban ice cream trucks so their kids wouldn't whine and beg for it every time a truck passed by the park. In my opinion that is ridiculous. The solution to the problem must come from within, not from an imposed rule.

The solution to obesity is not to ban sugary drinks over 16 ounces. The solution is self-control and exercise.

I am not asking advertising companies to stop with their ads. That would be ridiculous. Yes, I would like to not be reminded every time I ride the subway that I do not possess the newest model smart phone, that I do not have Windows 8, that I cannot buy a ticket right now and fly anywhere in the world, that I cannot afford a car, regardless of the model.

I understand that self-control must come from inside of me, and that 'Ezehu ashir hasameach bechelko' (Who is rich? He who is happy with his lot.) But I just wish that all those advertisements did not make me feel like my lot isn't good enough.

My question is- when will it end? 'The next big thing is already here'. That is, until something even bigger comes along.

And then, get out of the way because Black Friday is coming. The lines will be long, the sales will be great, and everyone wants what they are selling.

The answer- it will never end. 'Now' will no longer be good enough tomorrow. And 'They' always win.

On My Own

There's something in my head
and it just won't leave.
These thoughts are swirling
and I can't break free.

And I just want to feel
safe and secure
and I just want things
to go back to before.

But I know that's not
what life has in store for me
and I know that you
are not what's best for me.

There's a million streets to walk down
in this city all alone.
And that's why I'd never
make it on my own.

Sometimes it seems like
this will never end.
Just when things are fine
you round the bend.

The road's not smooth
it never has been for you.
Waiting for the sunshine.
Don't know if you'll make it through.

The things you wish for
the hopes and dreams.
You tell yourself it's alright
when that's not what it seems.

And they are all standing there watching,
as you take the spotlight
You want them to know that
you'll be alright.

But there's a million streets to walk down
in this city all alone.
And I know that I must
make it on my own.

You close the door
and slide down the wall.
Let the floor
break your fall.

Hope that you won't
let them down.
Know that you
can turn things around.

But there is something
holding you back.
You are searching for
the one thing you lack.

And there's a million streets to walk down
in this city of broken dreams.
And everything is not always
as it seems.

Sometimes you just can't
say the things you need to say.
You don't know how
it turned out this way.

And so you let the arms of
12 am hold you tight
And just maybe
you were never meant to fight.

Everything seems to
fall apart.
And soon it'll be over.
You can use a fresh start.

And she says
"Something about you
just brightens up the day".
But you hide your face
and turn away.

How can she see that
when inside it all feels wrong.
And you memorized all the
lyrics to the song.

Someday soon it'll
all come together.
And you better be ready
For the stormy weather.

Cuz there's a million streets to walk down
in this city all alone.
And it seems it's time to
make it on my own.

Be safe little brother

They say to pray and I do but I don't think about it. Every time I see a headline that says 'Please say tehillim for... for a speedy recovery' I mumble the persons name with a quick thought and move on to the next thing in my day.

Is that normal? Is that okay?

An acquaintance said, "It's so sad, everyone is so worried about Israel right now, talking about it, posting about it, etc. But in 4 months we will all forget..."

It is sad. And it is true. We forget because if we don't, we can't move on. If we don't forget about loss, the pain, the deaths and destruction, how can we live every day with that pain weighing on us?

Until it is someone close to you. And then you can never forget. You remember every day, every little thing reminds you of the person who is gone, maybe you move on and it is not in the forefront of your mind, but you never forget.

What can we do? Beyond the prayers, the learning, charity, posts, statuses, worries, etc. What can we do to help?

I was never in a bomb shelter. I don't know what an air raid sounds like. I have never known the fear of war, worrying about loved ones, I have never been close to death.

Four years ago we lost 2 great people, Gabi and Rivka Holtzberg, shluchim to Mumbai India. Today, another shlucha to India was killed in a terrorist attack in Israel. 25 year old expectant woman, Mirah Scharf, among other deaths and injuries.

I hate the facts. I hate hearing the statistics, the ages, the names. It makes it so much more personal. When you hear the woman was pregnant- it makes it that more tragic.

I have a little brother in the IDF. And I am not worried about him. I don't know why. I can't bring myself to worry. I stop and think, should I be worrying? And I decide no, there is no need to worry. So I go on with my day.

And I hope to G-d I never have a need to worry.

And then I feel so selfish for not worrying. What is wrong with me? Why am I not shaking with fear, and praying to G-d to watch over all our brothers and sisters in Israel?

But I can't think. I'm sitting at work and I can't focus. I don't want to call my mother because I know she will worry, even if we know for sure my brother is safe.

So I read the headlines along with everyone else, and sigh, and mumble some tehillim, and say 'please G-d protect them and let it end' and then I feel helpless because it is not in my hands.

So I go on with my day, and that feeling of guilt lingers.

Because I know nothing about war- but these people are living it every day.

May we merit to see the coming of Moshiach speedily in our days.

(Don't know what to call it)

There's this thing, it's called writer's block. Sometimes it's not so much a block as, such a good idea that it takes more time and effort than you have to write it.

Sometimes you have so much to write. Like about phones. And language. And sleep. And time.

I have no time. And I need sleep.

And I really really want to write. Because I have such a good idea blooming in my head.

And this is not a preview. This is my lame way of saying: be patient I am trying to formulate my thoughts.

In the meantime, I get an A+ in Procrastinating 101. And sleep deprivation.

Oh sweet sweet sleep....

We had a deal

Back then it seemed so little,
So innocent, what you said to me.

You wanted to help me,
to save me from my mistakes.

But we both know
how that would have ended.

So we made a deal.
And we took off running and never looked back.

I thought about what you said,
every night as I fell asleep.

My future flashed before my eyes,
and I knew what you said was true.

I hope you are off chasing the dream,
Changing the world.

But all I can do is sit and think,
and waste my time.

I still got time,
according to our time-frame.

But that's just it-
This is life, it's not a game.

But if it were,
You and I would be the players.

We'd be racing against the clock
to get to the finish line.

And I have no idea where you are
or what you're doing.

And I know what you'd say to me,
if you knew how I was feeling.

The only thing in this game I don't know
is how it'll end.

Cuz I'm sitting here,
filled with fear and not moving.

And I want you to tell me what to do,
to pull me through.

But we both know
that's not gonna happen.

Cuz we had a deal.

No goodbyes

As I watch you walk away I think,
'I love you.'

I think I finally get it.
How they say, 'deep down you love them,
no matter how much you hate them.'

For me it was really deep.
So deep I barely ever saw it.

And you always complained
and asked me why I hated you so much.

And it's not because you bug me all the time,
or annoy me, or steal my stuff.

It's not because you talk too much,
or that I just can't stand your voice.

It's not because you were always immature,
a 'baby', followed me around everywhere I went.

I hated you
simply because you existed.

But that was childish,
as hate usually is.

I love you
simply because you exist.

And you will never hear me say it.
But I know you know it too.

As I watch you walk away,
I don't say goodbye.

I say have a safe trip.
and 'see you around.'

I don't need to say goodbye,
because I will always see you again.

And no matter how many times I say 'I hate you',
you know I'll always love you.

Cuz that's just what families do.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

I love it when the weather turns mild after a bout of cold. Wednesday night I came home cold and wet due to a snow storm. Today, the sun is shining, it is jacket weather, and everyone is out and about.

Crown Heights is full of men, as the annual shluchim convention is taking place. One friend posted a cute status: "Crowds of confused rabbis buying pantyhose -kinus hashluchim 5773". 

One time I saw a frum guy taking a picture of a women's rain coat, presumably to send to his wife. Another time a frum guy stopped me in the makeup isle and said 'excuse me, my wife needs make-up remover'. So I started to tell him all the options, (liquid, pre-soaked cloths, cotton swabs, etc) and he just said 'thank you' and picked the first one he saw. It is so cute to watch guys totally out of their element. 

I love walking down the street on Friday afternoon and smelling the various fumes of cooking coming from the houses. Yum, chicken soup.

I'm making chocolate chip cookies. It just feels like the right time to make cookies. "All who are hungry come and eat."

I really hope the weather stays this great. Sun makes everything better.

Have a good Shabbos!

The place where you can find Me

Tonight's a night for cookies,
tonight's a night for fun.
Tonight's the night to get away
from you and everyone.

I dream of making music,
of finding that beautiful tune.
The one that makes everyone listen,
that fills up a whole room.

The snow outside has melted,
Frosty has lost his nose.
I want to make a warm fire,
Inside where it is cozy.

But the great outdoors is calling,
begging me to come.
To be one with the cold,
until all of me is numb.

This thing inside me growing,
begging to be let out.
I try so hard to block it,
but it continues to shout.

I can smell your cakes baking,
in your kitchen warm and sweet.
I see you standing all day long,
weary on your feet.

I stand in the corner watching,
hoping to remain unseen.
I enjoy observing you in your world,
Going about your routine.

I talk until I'm tired,
I say all that I feel.
The silence is my answer,
Time will help me heal.

Sometimes I don't want answers,
I just want to forget.
I listen to music and let it move me,
Until I'm no longer upset.

Sometimes I think it's crazy,
to tell you how I feel.
I say you'd never understand me.
You tell me to 'get real'.

You say we've all got problems,
that each one can use a helping hand.
'Not I', I respond cynically.
Forever alone I stand.

I

Just

Want

To

Talk

Aloud

And have you listen
and tell me what I want to hear.

I

Just

Want

To

BE

Myself

And have you accept me for that,
And no longer have fears.

But I can be so many mes
Sometimes I don't know which one is real.

So tonight, I let it go.
And close my eyes,
And pretend that I am
Right where I want to be.

But all I see
Is a blank open space,
A place
Unknown, and void.

With no name,
no beaten path,
Cuz no one has dared
to traverse it.

And I will be there first
As soon as I can figure out,
Just where this place is,
And how to get there.

And when you come looking,
that's the place where you will find me. 

To shake or not to shake

"By the way, I never caught your name."

"Josh", he said, and stuck out his hand to shake mine.

I presented my gloved hand in a halfhearted way and said, "I'm sorry, I can't shake your hand. It's for religious reasons."

"It's cool", he said. It's cool.

But is it?

To my shock and dismay, I have heard meany reasons and arguments defending the position of being lenient with shomer negia in regards to shaking someone's hand of the opposite gender, specifically in the workforce. One person even defended their claim using Wikipedia as a source. (See the section on Shaking hands in halacha). Everyone knows Wikipedia is not a valid source.

Whether shaking hands is a strict halacha or a 'personal preference', for me it goes way deeper than that.

There is that split second where thoughts go through my mind.

'He doesn't know me, who will ever know....'

'He won't understand, so why bother to explain?'

'It is just a handshake, what's the big deal?'

And then I remember who I am. I am a Jew. I am a frum Jew. I am a frum Jewish Lubavitcher, a chassid (follower) of the Rebbe. And the Rebbe never compromised, so why should I.

Why should one be lenient in an area where it is so easy for them to be strict? We as Jews learn to take the high road, in Halacha (to go beyond the letter of the law), in practice, (to give more charity, to do more favors for people), and in our personal lives. We are taught that it is not enough to just live, it is not enough to just do. We have to do more, we have to be better, we have to be the best that we are capable of being. 

Why should I make excuses and take the seemingly 'easier' route? To stand up for what you believe in, and what is right- THAT is what makes you a man.

Who knows? Maybe that guy will be walking away thinking, 'hmmm that is very impressive, I would love to know more about it.' Maybe he has a new found respect for Jews or religion.

And maybe he didn't think about it at all. But had I stuck out my hand and said 'Hi I'm Altie, nice to meet you'- I would have failed myself in every way.

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.