A message to all men in the world: I hope you like dirt, cuz you're gonna spend your whole life groveling.
It kind of bothers me how women work. They ask their men questions that they clearly don't want to know the answer to, and are just setting their men up to get in trouble, and then the man subsequently has to grovel and buy the woman presents for the next week, and oh ya, sleep on the couch. Let's play out this scenario:
Woman: "Honey, what do you think of this dress? Does it make me look fat? I feel so fat. Do you think I'm fat and ugly? What if I get old and you leave me for another woman?"
(she's thinking, if you're gonna leave me at least let it be cuz your gay and like men.)
Man: "No dear, that dress looks nice on you. I think you're beautiful."
W: (Stone cold voice) "Thank you, that's very nice of you. That makes me feel real special."
M: (a few minutes later in which his wife is clearly ignoring him) honey, did I say something wrong?"
W: "Oh no, of course not. I'm not feeling well, I'm not going out tonight. Please go out and buy me ice cream. And don't bother talking to me, I'm gonna wash the dishes, I won't be able to hear you, so don't bother talking, okay?" (emphasise on the DON' TALK. But what she really means is, start talking your way out of this one buddy, or you're in t-r-o-u-b-l-e.)
M: (phew that was a close one, at least she let me off scott free tonight) Okay dear, I'm glad you don't feel fat anymore."
W: "you just called me fat?????"
M: (confused beyond words) "NO, I think you're beautiful, I told you that. I don't think you're fat, and really, who wants an anorexic wife anyway, right. No one should look like those super models, it's disgusting."
W: "I want to look like those super models. They are gorgeous."
M: " YOU are gorgeous."
W: "you blew it. You are sleeping on the couch tonight. Oh, and now you have to buy me that outrageously priced diamond necklace I really want, to make me feel better and prove you love me."
M: (what the heck did I say wrong?????) "Anything for you, my pretty wife."
W: "cut the crap."
Okay, I think I went a little overboard there, but you see what I mean. Women miscommunicate. When they ask, do you think I'm fat, what they really mean is, I'm feeling very insecure right now, nothing you say will make me feel better so save yourself, and don't try, but don't worry there's nothing you can do, you're gonna get in trouble anyway cuz I just need a whipping boy, but if you play things right I might only be mad at you for one day instead of three, but if you totally ignore me you are in the doghouse for a week, and if you say something neutral about how no one really looks like super models and movies are not reality, then you will get the silent treatment and the cold shoulder and boy are you in trouble.....
Now, can this scenario ever work the other way? If the man told his wife, "honey, does this suit make me look fat? Do you think I'm ugly? Are you gonna leave me for another guy?" Unless the wife suspects that her husband is gay, she'll probably just say, stop babbling and take out the garbage.
Obviously, no self respecting man would ever say that to his wife, or to any living soul, even if he felt that way. No, that line is reserved solely for women.
So really, men, there is no way around it. It's gonna happen, don't say I didn't warn you. Just grovel your way out, ride out the storm, and pray to G-d that you say the right thing.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
This and that
So here's what this post was gonna be about:
I hate the fact that Lubavitch is known for always being late. It is such a cliche, that people make jokes about it. On wedding invitations it says, Chupa will be at 5:00. But everyone knows that it is a given that it won't start until at least 6:00. This annoys me to no end. Why should we be known as the Jews who are never on time? We stand up in front of the world, we represent something so big and monumental, we make functions and train leaders, and run such a huge operation, all under the guidance of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, and in his name it should be known that we are never on time?
It says 'A chossid darf zein a mesudar'. Loose translation, a chossid has to be a perfectionist. A chossid should strive to be better, to do things in the right way. To look like a mentch, be presentable, and behave properly, because he is not going out on his own. He is representing someone and something that is so much greater than himself.
So why the should it be a joke that we are never on time? I went to a lecture last week that was called to start at 7:30, and didn't start until 9. Fine, I didn't have that much better things to do with my time but still, it doesn't seem right to steal time from people who come on time, and those who don't, well that's not right either.
Okay, so that's what this post was supposed to be about. But then I realized a very important fact: I myself am never on time. When I tell someone I'll meet them at 7:30, usually that means I'll leave the house aroud 7:30. I have a problem with being on time, and I would rather be late then early. So why bother preaching about something in which you are not perfect?
Either way, you are all invited to my wedding (no, there's no news to tell, and I have no idea when it'll happen, but believe me when I tell you, dear readers, that you will probably be the first ones I'll tell.) And when it says on the invitation that Kabolas ponim will be at 5, and chuppa at 6, well I would really love if you came on time, or even early, but you will just be standing around for awhile waiting for everyone else to show up. So, um, come late? That's not a suggestion. I'm gonna start a trend for being early. Please come on time. And yes, it is a black dress event.
There were some funny things I was thinking about. When the delivery guy from UPS comes to the door with a package (we are best friends by now, my father is a big Ebay buyer, and we get multiple packages a day, I'm serious.) He hands me that big heavy thingy where you have to sign. And it's a joke every time, cuz my name barely comes out as chicken scratch (shout out to Mr. J, for all you Torontonians. He said my handwriting looked like his 9 year old nephews). Cuz the thingy is so weird that I don't know how they expect you to sign it, I always write off the line and then cant find my place again so its barely legible and leaves me wondering why they even bothered.
Then there's the pretty new bathroom mat that my sister bought, that she makes me hang over the tub every time after my shower, that makes me wish she never bought the *__* thing. I keep thinking, I should wash that, but then I never get aroud to it, and it's starting to look not so pretty. It reminds me of the song 'black socks they never get dirty, the longer you wear them the blacker they get, sometimes I think of the laundry but something inside me says don't wash them yet.' We used to sing that in class to annoy my teacher, back when I was a student of 12, and relished getting in trouble. And so the mat sits there, all alone, cuz no one will take care of it. Oh poor mat that had to end up in my bathroom....
Will someone please tell me what the weather is like outside? My thermostat tells me it is but 17 degrees Farinheit. But I don't know what that feels like since I haven't been outside in awhile.
On Shabbos I read the Meam Loez on Parshas Beshalach. I recommend it, they have some really good insights into the parsha.
In a week is Chof bais Shvat. Some of my friends will be in town. You know who you are. If you are gonna be in town but I don't know about it, please let me know so we can do brunch. Chow chow!
The house is quiet, I think it's safe to go to bed now. The time on my laptop is 11:44 PM Jan 30. Of course it is 3 hours behind, it does this weird thing every week and I can't figure out how to change it. The real time is 2:45 AM. I'm off to bed.
Gnite world!
I hate the fact that Lubavitch is known for always being late. It is such a cliche, that people make jokes about it. On wedding invitations it says, Chupa will be at 5:00. But everyone knows that it is a given that it won't start until at least 6:00. This annoys me to no end. Why should we be known as the Jews who are never on time? We stand up in front of the world, we represent something so big and monumental, we make functions and train leaders, and run such a huge operation, all under the guidance of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, and in his name it should be known that we are never on time?
It says 'A chossid darf zein a mesudar'. Loose translation, a chossid has to be a perfectionist. A chossid should strive to be better, to do things in the right way. To look like a mentch, be presentable, and behave properly, because he is not going out on his own. He is representing someone and something that is so much greater than himself.
So why the should it be a joke that we are never on time? I went to a lecture last week that was called to start at 7:30, and didn't start until 9. Fine, I didn't have that much better things to do with my time but still, it doesn't seem right to steal time from people who come on time, and those who don't, well that's not right either.
Okay, so that's what this post was supposed to be about. But then I realized a very important fact: I myself am never on time. When I tell someone I'll meet them at 7:30, usually that means I'll leave the house aroud 7:30. I have a problem with being on time, and I would rather be late then early. So why bother preaching about something in which you are not perfect?
Either way, you are all invited to my wedding (no, there's no news to tell, and I have no idea when it'll happen, but believe me when I tell you, dear readers, that you will probably be the first ones I'll tell.) And when it says on the invitation that Kabolas ponim will be at 5, and chuppa at 6, well I would really love if you came on time, or even early, but you will just be standing around for awhile waiting for everyone else to show up. So, um, come late? That's not a suggestion. I'm gonna start a trend for being early. Please come on time. And yes, it is a black dress event.
There were some funny things I was thinking about. When the delivery guy from UPS comes to the door with a package (we are best friends by now, my father is a big Ebay buyer, and we get multiple packages a day, I'm serious.) He hands me that big heavy thingy where you have to sign. And it's a joke every time, cuz my name barely comes out as chicken scratch (shout out to Mr. J, for all you Torontonians. He said my handwriting looked like his 9 year old nephews). Cuz the thingy is so weird that I don't know how they expect you to sign it, I always write off the line and then cant find my place again so its barely legible and leaves me wondering why they even bothered.
Then there's the pretty new bathroom mat that my sister bought, that she makes me hang over the tub every time after my shower, that makes me wish she never bought the *__* thing. I keep thinking, I should wash that, but then I never get aroud to it, and it's starting to look not so pretty. It reminds me of the song 'black socks they never get dirty, the longer you wear them the blacker they get, sometimes I think of the laundry but something inside me says don't wash them yet.' We used to sing that in class to annoy my teacher, back when I was a student of 12, and relished getting in trouble. And so the mat sits there, all alone, cuz no one will take care of it. Oh poor mat that had to end up in my bathroom....
Will someone please tell me what the weather is like outside? My thermostat tells me it is but 17 degrees Farinheit. But I don't know what that feels like since I haven't been outside in awhile.
On Shabbos I read the Meam Loez on Parshas Beshalach. I recommend it, they have some really good insights into the parsha.
In a week is Chof bais Shvat. Some of my friends will be in town. You know who you are. If you are gonna be in town but I don't know about it, please let me know so we can do brunch. Chow chow!
The house is quiet, I think it's safe to go to bed now. The time on my laptop is 11:44 PM Jan 30. Of course it is 3 hours behind, it does this weird thing every week and I can't figure out how to change it. The real time is 2:45 AM. I'm off to bed.
Gnite world!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
You know you're growing up when...
You start doing things for yourself, or for the sake of the thing itself, instead of for a reward or worrying about pleasing other people. I davened today. Even though I knew there were people who were proud of me, I did it for ME. And for G-d. And it felt really good.
When your mother's friend comes to the house, and instead of thinking of her as 'that lady that always comes over', you see her as a friend of yours too. And you chat with her, and it's so nice to see her. She's older, yes, but in some sense she feels like an equal. Because I have changed, I'm almost a grown up now. (Noooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
I went to a farbrengin yesterday for Yud Shvat. That is a big accomplishment for me and I'm proud of myself and happy I went. It felt good. Really good. For once I felt like I BELONGED there. Like I was entitled to be there, and I wasn't just a fraud. It also felt good knowing that I didn't have to be there. I think all through high school I resented the requirement to learn. I had to go to class, and to farbrengins, etc. It was expected of us. So it wasn't coming from me. For once I went because I wanted to.
And I didn't fall asleep. And I didn't leave early. I stayed for 2 1/2 hours. There were a lot of young newly married girls there. They left early. They have husbands and maybe children waiting for them at home. And I kept eyeing the clock, wondering when it would be appropriate to leave, and then I realized, I can STAY. I don't have to rush home, I only have to worry about me right now, I don't have a family to take care of. It was refreshing and made me want to take advantage of the NOW. People always say, enjoy your time now, take advantage, cuz later you'll regret letting this time slip by. It hasn't really hit home until now.
So what was the farbrengin about, you want to know. Ya ya Altie, it's so nice that you went, that you had a breakthrough, that you feel so good about yourself and think you are a great person now, but did you actually LEARN anything there? Did you listen?
Yes, people. Don't worry, I listened. Rabbi Tzvi Freeman from Toronto spoke. He is a good speaker with a great sense of humor. He spoke about a few things and I'll tell you what I remember.
Hiskashrus- he asked, what is hiskashrus. Ya, it means being connected to the Rebbe, but what is it. It is physical, is it emotional, is it rote? He told a story to illustrate his point:
He lived in Vancouver, and every year by Yud Shvat the community held a raffle to send one person to New York to be by the Rebbe. He was lucky enough to win it three times in a row. The last time that he went, he wanted to give the Rebbe something, a gift. So he thought, what can I give the Rebbe, that won't take up too much of his time? He decided, when he goes online to get a dollar, he will smile at the Rebbe. And that's what he did. As he passed by the Rebbe, he gave him a big smile. And the Rebbe gave him a big smile back.
Rabbi Freeman said, that is hiskashrus. When you are going about your daily life, and you have an urge to be connected to the Rebbe. Hiskashrus is something that needs work, yes. But it is there Even the most fraye yid will still speak about the Rebbe with kavod, and love. Because hiskashrus is in the heart, it is unnatural.
He mentioned something interesting abour current events. (I don't actually follow current events, cuz I have no interest in it.) He spoke about the rescue teams that each country sent into Haiti, so help the survivors there. Out of all the countries, Israel, the smallest one sent the most people and most equipment to help. They flew there on a 16 hour flight, and spend 8 hours setting up a hospital with state of the art equipment. The American medical students who were in Haiti went to help the Israelis in the hospital. When asked why, they said, 'Cuz the Americans haven't brought anything, or set up a hospital, so we might as well go where help is needed.' And they said at that moment, they were almost embarrased to be American.
But his point was, that years ago this would not have happened. The world has progressed and matured enough that now they are quick to help another country in need, and hesitant to go to war. (Iraq.) The world is changing....
There was another really nice story he told. (I forget names, and details, so bare with me.)
There was a man named Hagar, in charge of a mission. The mission was to recover the files of all the Jews that were sent to Sibiria (and nevver returned) and return them to their families, so they can at least know what happened to them, and where they were burried.
One time, a former KGB officer who was in charge of 'Religious persecution' in Russia during the time of Stalin, sent word to Hagar that he wanted to meet with him. Hagar didn't really want o meet with a former KGB officer, so he asked the head shliach to Russia, berel Lazar, what to do, and berel told him to go, because he might be able to give Hagar valueble information about some files of people that were never found. So Hagar went to the government building, on a Friday.
The man he was supposed to meet with was across town in another government location, so they rushed Hagar over there. Hagar had 2 volumes of the shluchim book, and post-it notes by each picture of shluchim who's ancestors were in Sibiria. The second he walked into the KGB's office he put them on the table. The man started leafing through the pages. Then he turned to his secretary and said, 'They're smiling! Look at them! If I had known that despite all my efforts, they would have survived, and had children, and grandchildren, that are still religious today, I wouldn't have bothered.'
There was a second part to the story that I don't really remember. But I really liked that story cuz it just goes to show- try to kill us and wipe us out, and we will come back even stronger.
Okay if you are still reading this (why are you still reading this????) I have one more really nice story to share.
Rabbi Freeman brought out an interesting point. Most people who are in a position of power have followers, and their main goal is to get more followers, as many as they can. (He also asid, most famous people didn't really do anything worthwhile, the ones who really made a difference and SHOULD be famous, no one ever heard about, or knows their name.) When famous people donate money to charity, or do something good, they want people to know it was THEM doing it. They want acknowledgement, and honor.
The Rebbe was the total opposite. He wasnted to mikarev yidden, bring them closer to Torah, nor specifically to Chabad. Once there was a man who ran the Hillel house on campus in a college in England. He spoke to the Rebbe and the Rebbe asked him if the Jewish students there have access to kosher food. The man said, the Hillel ouse is under construction and wasn't gonna be ready for another few months, so in the meantime no, there was no kosher food available on campus, unless the student went to a kosher resteraunt nearby. The Rebbe asked him, so for 5 months it's okay to eat not kosher? He told the man to set up centers around the campus that had kosher food available to any Jewish student who wanted it.
The man got into the hang of things and started thinking and planning, that they would run events there, and have Torah classes, besides for kosher food. And the Rebbe said no, that's not what I told you. I want there to be kosher food, so that a Jewish boy, should sit down next to a Jewish girl, and eat kosher food, so that one day they will get married.
The point is not 'Come to Chabad, we are the best, you must follow us!! Hear hear!'. The point is, learn Torah, serve G-d, do mitzvot, be a good Jew. If they become Chabad, that's a bonus.
I think I left you with enough stuff to think about. It was a good farbrengin. Happy Yud Aleph Shvat everyone. Do something good to change the world. It's not as hard as you think. Believe me.
When your mother's friend comes to the house, and instead of thinking of her as 'that lady that always comes over', you see her as a friend of yours too. And you chat with her, and it's so nice to see her. She's older, yes, but in some sense she feels like an equal. Because I have changed, I'm almost a grown up now. (Noooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
I went to a farbrengin yesterday for Yud Shvat. That is a big accomplishment for me and I'm proud of myself and happy I went. It felt good. Really good. For once I felt like I BELONGED there. Like I was entitled to be there, and I wasn't just a fraud. It also felt good knowing that I didn't have to be there. I think all through high school I resented the requirement to learn. I had to go to class, and to farbrengins, etc. It was expected of us. So it wasn't coming from me. For once I went because I wanted to.
And I didn't fall asleep. And I didn't leave early. I stayed for 2 1/2 hours. There were a lot of young newly married girls there. They left early. They have husbands and maybe children waiting for them at home. And I kept eyeing the clock, wondering when it would be appropriate to leave, and then I realized, I can STAY. I don't have to rush home, I only have to worry about me right now, I don't have a family to take care of. It was refreshing and made me want to take advantage of the NOW. People always say, enjoy your time now, take advantage, cuz later you'll regret letting this time slip by. It hasn't really hit home until now.
So what was the farbrengin about, you want to know. Ya ya Altie, it's so nice that you went, that you had a breakthrough, that you feel so good about yourself and think you are a great person now, but did you actually LEARN anything there? Did you listen?
Yes, people. Don't worry, I listened. Rabbi Tzvi Freeman from Toronto spoke. He is a good speaker with a great sense of humor. He spoke about a few things and I'll tell you what I remember.
Hiskashrus- he asked, what is hiskashrus. Ya, it means being connected to the Rebbe, but what is it. It is physical, is it emotional, is it rote? He told a story to illustrate his point:
He lived in Vancouver, and every year by Yud Shvat the community held a raffle to send one person to New York to be by the Rebbe. He was lucky enough to win it three times in a row. The last time that he went, he wanted to give the Rebbe something, a gift. So he thought, what can I give the Rebbe, that won't take up too much of his time? He decided, when he goes online to get a dollar, he will smile at the Rebbe. And that's what he did. As he passed by the Rebbe, he gave him a big smile. And the Rebbe gave him a big smile back.
Rabbi Freeman said, that is hiskashrus. When you are going about your daily life, and you have an urge to be connected to the Rebbe. Hiskashrus is something that needs work, yes. But it is there Even the most fraye yid will still speak about the Rebbe with kavod, and love. Because hiskashrus is in the heart, it is unnatural.
He mentioned something interesting abour current events. (I don't actually follow current events, cuz I have no interest in it.) He spoke about the rescue teams that each country sent into Haiti, so help the survivors there. Out of all the countries, Israel, the smallest one sent the most people and most equipment to help. They flew there on a 16 hour flight, and spend 8 hours setting up a hospital with state of the art equipment. The American medical students who were in Haiti went to help the Israelis in the hospital. When asked why, they said, 'Cuz the Americans haven't brought anything, or set up a hospital, so we might as well go where help is needed.' And they said at that moment, they were almost embarrased to be American.
But his point was, that years ago this would not have happened. The world has progressed and matured enough that now they are quick to help another country in need, and hesitant to go to war. (Iraq.) The world is changing....
There was another really nice story he told. (I forget names, and details, so bare with me.)
There was a man named Hagar, in charge of a mission. The mission was to recover the files of all the Jews that were sent to Sibiria (and nevver returned) and return them to their families, so they can at least know what happened to them, and where they were burried.
One time, a former KGB officer who was in charge of 'Religious persecution' in Russia during the time of Stalin, sent word to Hagar that he wanted to meet with him. Hagar didn't really want o meet with a former KGB officer, so he asked the head shliach to Russia, berel Lazar, what to do, and berel told him to go, because he might be able to give Hagar valueble information about some files of people that were never found. So Hagar went to the government building, on a Friday.
The man he was supposed to meet with was across town in another government location, so they rushed Hagar over there. Hagar had 2 volumes of the shluchim book, and post-it notes by each picture of shluchim who's ancestors were in Sibiria. The second he walked into the KGB's office he put them on the table. The man started leafing through the pages. Then he turned to his secretary and said, 'They're smiling! Look at them! If I had known that despite all my efforts, they would have survived, and had children, and grandchildren, that are still religious today, I wouldn't have bothered.'
There was a second part to the story that I don't really remember. But I really liked that story cuz it just goes to show- try to kill us and wipe us out, and we will come back even stronger.
Okay if you are still reading this (why are you still reading this????) I have one more really nice story to share.
Rabbi Freeman brought out an interesting point. Most people who are in a position of power have followers, and their main goal is to get more followers, as many as they can. (He also asid, most famous people didn't really do anything worthwhile, the ones who really made a difference and SHOULD be famous, no one ever heard about, or knows their name.) When famous people donate money to charity, or do something good, they want people to know it was THEM doing it. They want acknowledgement, and honor.
The Rebbe was the total opposite. He wasnted to mikarev yidden, bring them closer to Torah, nor specifically to Chabad. Once there was a man who ran the Hillel house on campus in a college in England. He spoke to the Rebbe and the Rebbe asked him if the Jewish students there have access to kosher food. The man said, the Hillel ouse is under construction and wasn't gonna be ready for another few months, so in the meantime no, there was no kosher food available on campus, unless the student went to a kosher resteraunt nearby. The Rebbe asked him, so for 5 months it's okay to eat not kosher? He told the man to set up centers around the campus that had kosher food available to any Jewish student who wanted it.
The man got into the hang of things and started thinking and planning, that they would run events there, and have Torah classes, besides for kosher food. And the Rebbe said no, that's not what I told you. I want there to be kosher food, so that a Jewish boy, should sit down next to a Jewish girl, and eat kosher food, so that one day they will get married.
The point is not 'Come to Chabad, we are the best, you must follow us!! Hear hear!'. The point is, learn Torah, serve G-d, do mitzvot, be a good Jew. If they become Chabad, that's a bonus.
I think I left you with enough stuff to think about. It was a good farbrengin. Happy Yud Aleph Shvat everyone. Do something good to change the world. It's not as hard as you think. Believe me.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Today is yud shvat
Today is yud shvat.
So what?
How can you say so what? What do you mean, so what? Don't you know what a special day it is? Don't you feel anything? Aren't you gonna do anything about it? So, are you going to a farbrengin?
No, they are always long and boring, and I can never understand any of it once they start speaking in yiddish and hebrew.
What? How can you not go to a farbrengin? What do you mean? So, what, you're just not gonna do anything about it? You're gonna go to work and it's gonna be a regular day?
No, I'm gonna light a yartzeit candle.
Sometimes I don't understand. How can you not care? How can you not do anything, feel anything, write a pan, go to the ohel, make hachlatas, join a farbrengin? How can you let this day go by, like it is any other day? It's not.
What is yud shvat, you ask me.
I don't know. I honestly don't know. I can tell you what happened on that day. The previous lubavitcher Rebbe passed away, and the same day, a year later, our Rebbe took over the leadership. He said the maamer (chassidic discourse) of Baasi legani, which by itself needs a whole explanation. And his leadership began. And goes on until today.
I know the facts, yes I do. I've been in school long enough to be taught about it year after year. The same booklet that we got to color, with stories about each of the Rabeim in lubavitch. And a picture of seven men, each standing on the others shoulders, representing how we are the seventh generation.
Maybe then it all made sense. Or maybe the mind of a child didn't even know to ask questions. It just seems somewhere along the way, things fell apart. There was confusion, and doubts, and questions. But not actual questions that have answers. Just big question marks in my mind.
Then again, maybe this is the time to have kabalas ol. Just accept things without questions, as they say. That's what children do. They just accept things. It's the adults who over think, and over complicate things.
But there is something there. The heart, as they say. That has never stopped feeling. Year after year, it beats. It whispers, it talks. It lets me know that today is a special day. Don't let it pass by. Do something, anything. Or at least think about it.
It has never let up. It is the heart that makes me feel guilty, and regret things I do. It is the heart that makes me wish I was a better person. It is the heart that cares about things that my brain won't think about. It is the heart that tells me I can be a better person, when I feel like I'm down in the gutters.
It is the heart that has never given up on me, when I've given up on myself.
I went to a really chassidish high school. That is what I attribute my conscience to. In that school, no chassidish date or yom tov passed without acknowledgement. A farbrengin, a speaker, a program. They gave you everything you needed to learn and grow. All you had to do was stretch out your hand, and take it. I regret to say that I wasted time there, and didn't take all that was offered to me. Some, but not all.
But that doesn't matter. No point crying over days gone by. The point is, they made me who I am today. They made me into a person that no matter what I look like on the outside, no matter what my actions are, or how far I can stray from the right path, my heart will always beat, and remind me of who I am.
Today is yud shvat. I'm not really sure what it's all about. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do for it. I wish I knew. I wish I was ready to teach others about it, but I'm just learning myself.
It is easier for me to push others to do things, to be confused when they let this day pass, and do nothing about it. But on myself, I'm not so harsh. I have to go daven, maybe write a pan, and I promised someone I would go join a farbrengin tonight. Little steps, little steps, and sometimes I feel like I'm going nowhere. But as they say, you can't run until you can walk, right?
I learned a sicha yesterday with my friend. To be able to say that sounds foreign even to me. And I actually enjoyed it and thought, wow, this is not so bad, I can do this, I guess I haven't forgotten how to learn. Iy''h it will become a regular thing. And I'm proud of me.
Mushkie once asked me to share my story about my yud shvat four years ago. I would, but I don't think anyone would gain from hearing it, so that story will remain undisclosed. It is not a story I am proud of.
If you care, and if you have a heart like mine that beats and says 'do something good', then don't let today pass like any other day. Do something good. Light a candle, write a letter to the Rebbe, give charity, do someone a favor, smile. Something. Anything.
Show G-d that we are ready and it is time. This will be the last yud shvat in golus, and next year we will farbreng in 770, with our beloved Rebbe.
So what?
How can you say so what? What do you mean, so what? Don't you know what a special day it is? Don't you feel anything? Aren't you gonna do anything about it? So, are you going to a farbrengin?
No, they are always long and boring, and I can never understand any of it once they start speaking in yiddish and hebrew.
What? How can you not go to a farbrengin? What do you mean? So, what, you're just not gonna do anything about it? You're gonna go to work and it's gonna be a regular day?
No, I'm gonna light a yartzeit candle.
Sometimes I don't understand. How can you not care? How can you not do anything, feel anything, write a pan, go to the ohel, make hachlatas, join a farbrengin? How can you let this day go by, like it is any other day? It's not.
What is yud shvat, you ask me.
I don't know. I honestly don't know. I can tell you what happened on that day. The previous lubavitcher Rebbe passed away, and the same day, a year later, our Rebbe took over the leadership. He said the maamer (chassidic discourse) of Baasi legani, which by itself needs a whole explanation. And his leadership began. And goes on until today.
I know the facts, yes I do. I've been in school long enough to be taught about it year after year. The same booklet that we got to color, with stories about each of the Rabeim in lubavitch. And a picture of seven men, each standing on the others shoulders, representing how we are the seventh generation.
Maybe then it all made sense. Or maybe the mind of a child didn't even know to ask questions. It just seems somewhere along the way, things fell apart. There was confusion, and doubts, and questions. But not actual questions that have answers. Just big question marks in my mind.
Then again, maybe this is the time to have kabalas ol. Just accept things without questions, as they say. That's what children do. They just accept things. It's the adults who over think, and over complicate things.
But there is something there. The heart, as they say. That has never stopped feeling. Year after year, it beats. It whispers, it talks. It lets me know that today is a special day. Don't let it pass by. Do something, anything. Or at least think about it.
It has never let up. It is the heart that makes me feel guilty, and regret things I do. It is the heart that makes me wish I was a better person. It is the heart that cares about things that my brain won't think about. It is the heart that tells me I can be a better person, when I feel like I'm down in the gutters.
It is the heart that has never given up on me, when I've given up on myself.
I went to a really chassidish high school. That is what I attribute my conscience to. In that school, no chassidish date or yom tov passed without acknowledgement. A farbrengin, a speaker, a program. They gave you everything you needed to learn and grow. All you had to do was stretch out your hand, and take it. I regret to say that I wasted time there, and didn't take all that was offered to me. Some, but not all.
But that doesn't matter. No point crying over days gone by. The point is, they made me who I am today. They made me into a person that no matter what I look like on the outside, no matter what my actions are, or how far I can stray from the right path, my heart will always beat, and remind me of who I am.
Today is yud shvat. I'm not really sure what it's all about. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do for it. I wish I knew. I wish I was ready to teach others about it, but I'm just learning myself.
It is easier for me to push others to do things, to be confused when they let this day pass, and do nothing about it. But on myself, I'm not so harsh. I have to go daven, maybe write a pan, and I promised someone I would go join a farbrengin tonight. Little steps, little steps, and sometimes I feel like I'm going nowhere. But as they say, you can't run until you can walk, right?
I learned a sicha yesterday with my friend. To be able to say that sounds foreign even to me. And I actually enjoyed it and thought, wow, this is not so bad, I can do this, I guess I haven't forgotten how to learn. Iy''h it will become a regular thing. And I'm proud of me.
Mushkie once asked me to share my story about my yud shvat four years ago. I would, but I don't think anyone would gain from hearing it, so that story will remain undisclosed. It is not a story I am proud of.
If you care, and if you have a heart like mine that beats and says 'do something good', then don't let today pass like any other day. Do something good. Light a candle, write a letter to the Rebbe, give charity, do someone a favor, smile. Something. Anything.
Show G-d that we are ready and it is time. This will be the last yud shvat in golus, and next year we will farbreng in 770, with our beloved Rebbe.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
When I grow up
Ok ok ok ok ok. Ask me what I want to be when I grow up. I finally know what I want to be.
I want to be a balebusta!!!
She walked into my house and before I could give her a kiss and say hello she said, I'm starving, I came here for lunch. So I opened the fridge, and there was a ready made salad left over from yesterday that wasn't dressed yet. I prepared that for her, made her a tea, asked her if she wanted a sandwich. I even made her a goody bag to go. And sat down and talked to her as I was cutting up carrots and onions for the soup I was making.
I know that I helped her, and prepared lunch for her. But she helped me too. It felt so good to know that she was comfortable to walk into my house and ask for food. She made me feel needed. I love helping people, and making food. There's a certain accomplishment knowing that someone else is satisfied.
I want to have a home where my doors are always open. I want to be known as a person that is easygoing, that will help you out when you need something, and not make you feel like I'm doing you a favor. I want to be the person who has cakes and cookies in the freezer, ready to be taken out at any second, and given to someone who needs a hot drink and a listening ear. I want to have meals prepared that can feed an army, and be ready to serve anyone who walks in my door. I want to have room at my table for anyone who needs a place. I want to say to someone 'if there's room in the heart, there's room at the table.' And I want to have lots of room in my heart.
I want to have a home where there are always people and strangers passing through, where they can sit down for dessert and a vort of torah. I want people to feel like my home is their home too. I want people to be comfortable there.
These are things I have to work on, and strive towards. But now I have a goal. I know what I want to be when I grow up. First and foremost, I want to build a home, and be the balebust.
I want to be a balebusta!!!
She walked into my house and before I could give her a kiss and say hello she said, I'm starving, I came here for lunch. So I opened the fridge, and there was a ready made salad left over from yesterday that wasn't dressed yet. I prepared that for her, made her a tea, asked her if she wanted a sandwich. I even made her a goody bag to go. And sat down and talked to her as I was cutting up carrots and onions for the soup I was making.
I know that I helped her, and prepared lunch for her. But she helped me too. It felt so good to know that she was comfortable to walk into my house and ask for food. She made me feel needed. I love helping people, and making food. There's a certain accomplishment knowing that someone else is satisfied.
I want to have a home where my doors are always open. I want to be known as a person that is easygoing, that will help you out when you need something, and not make you feel like I'm doing you a favor. I want to be the person who has cakes and cookies in the freezer, ready to be taken out at any second, and given to someone who needs a hot drink and a listening ear. I want to have meals prepared that can feed an army, and be ready to serve anyone who walks in my door. I want to have room at my table for anyone who needs a place. I want to say to someone 'if there's room in the heart, there's room at the table.' And I want to have lots of room in my heart.
I want to have a home where there are always people and strangers passing through, where they can sit down for dessert and a vort of torah. I want people to feel like my home is their home too. I want people to be comfortable there.
These are things I have to work on, and strive towards. But now I have a goal. I know what I want to be when I grow up. First and foremost, I want to build a home, and be the balebust.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Untitled
Never say good-bye because saying good-bye means going away,
and going away means forgetting.
~ Peter Pan
"Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again after a moment or lifetime is certain for those who are friends."
--Richard David Bach
Why does it take a minute to say hello and forever to say goodbye?
~Author Unknown
Ends and beginnings - there are no such things.
There are only middles.
-Robert Frost
and going away means forgetting.
~ Peter Pan
"Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again after a moment or lifetime is certain for those who are friends."
--Richard David Bach
Why does it take a minute to say hello and forever to say goodbye?
~Author Unknown
Ends and beginnings - there are no such things.
There are only middles.
-Robert Frost
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
A place I once called home
It seemed much smaller than I remembered. It was also dark and quiet. I don't remember ever being there after dark. No, that late at night I was safely tucked away in my bed. It was weird. I was standing there and it suddenly hit me- this is a part of my childhood.
Here's where I first learned how to ride a bike, and scraped my knees. Here's where we would throw stuff on top of the garage, and then climb up to get it. Here's where we played cops and robbers, around the house, tap to freedom, and all our other childish games. A mimsies a clappsies, r-a-t-t-l-e spells rattle snake. Here's where we played ball. Here's where I fought with my friends, and pulled her hair, and had mine yanked in return. Here's where I laughed, and cried, and got scared.
I remember when a scary neighbor kid threatened to come beat us up, and we all ran into our houses and locked the door. Even the older kids. And it was during the day. I remember when my older sister and her friends would come join us in our games, and how special that made me feel, like we were validated somehow, because the big kids were giving us attention.
Here's where my brothers built an igloo, and scared the neighbors. Here's where my sister broke 3 fingers while playing ball. Here's where we pulled off the tape from the neighbor's hopscotch, and got bullied by them and all their 70 cousins. Here's where we threw water balloons, played elimination, stepped on nails and thought I got metal poisoning in my foot. Here's where we played squash sardines.
Here's where I grew up. It's dark out, but in my minds eye I can see the ghosts of the past. I see the little girl I used to be running, and playing, and enjoying life as a 5 year old. I thought I lost her. I thought I grew up and she was gone forever. But no, she was right here all along, waiting to be remembered, waiting for me to take a trip down memory lane.
The house I used to live in, and where I spent my main growing up years as a child is no longer there. Our house was old and broken down and crappy. In it's place stands a beautiful mansion. It's not my house, no, cuz my house held memories, but these walls are cold. The tree where I used to climb is gone. We would sit up in the branches and spy on people. We could see all the way to the corner.
We would dig in my front garden. One year when it snowed we dug a tunnel in the snow. We planted apple seeds, thinking they would grow into an apple tree, but they never did. Oh how young and naive we were.
My front steps where I stood erev sukkos, all fresh and clean, and dressed in my new yom tov clothing, that's gone forever. The ugly red stairs going up to my house, which always had peeling paint, that's gone too. The house, the place that held so many memories, it doesn't exist anymore. And it makes me sad.
But as I stand here in my old backyard, and I am suddenly flooded with memories, I know it will never really be gone. I thought I forgot. I thought I moved on. But you can't move on from a part of your life, the very most important part, the beginning.
I wonder if my old neighbors remember everything like I do. Or if they even care. I wish I had someone to reminisce with, someone who was there with me. But they are all grown up. I don't even know them anymore. But we shared a childhood, and that can never be erased.
I left. The backyard doesn't look like I remembered it. It's much smaller. Or maybe it just seemed so much bigger to a small child of 5. But either way, now I know. I know I'll never forget it. Cuz all my memories are in a place where I can return to whenever I want. In my heart.
Goodbye backyard. Thanks for reminding me of the good times.
Here's where I first learned how to ride a bike, and scraped my knees. Here's where we would throw stuff on top of the garage, and then climb up to get it. Here's where we played cops and robbers, around the house, tap to freedom, and all our other childish games. A mimsies a clappsies, r-a-t-t-l-e spells rattle snake. Here's where we played ball. Here's where I fought with my friends, and pulled her hair, and had mine yanked in return. Here's where I laughed, and cried, and got scared.
I remember when a scary neighbor kid threatened to come beat us up, and we all ran into our houses and locked the door. Even the older kids. And it was during the day. I remember when my older sister and her friends would come join us in our games, and how special that made me feel, like we were validated somehow, because the big kids were giving us attention.
Here's where my brothers built an igloo, and scared the neighbors. Here's where my sister broke 3 fingers while playing ball. Here's where we pulled off the tape from the neighbor's hopscotch, and got bullied by them and all their 70 cousins. Here's where we threw water balloons, played elimination, stepped on nails and thought I got metal poisoning in my foot. Here's where we played squash sardines.
Here's where I grew up. It's dark out, but in my minds eye I can see the ghosts of the past. I see the little girl I used to be running, and playing, and enjoying life as a 5 year old. I thought I lost her. I thought I grew up and she was gone forever. But no, she was right here all along, waiting to be remembered, waiting for me to take a trip down memory lane.
The house I used to live in, and where I spent my main growing up years as a child is no longer there. Our house was old and broken down and crappy. In it's place stands a beautiful mansion. It's not my house, no, cuz my house held memories, but these walls are cold. The tree where I used to climb is gone. We would sit up in the branches and spy on people. We could see all the way to the corner.
We would dig in my front garden. One year when it snowed we dug a tunnel in the snow. We planted apple seeds, thinking they would grow into an apple tree, but they never did. Oh how young and naive we were.
My front steps where I stood erev sukkos, all fresh and clean, and dressed in my new yom tov clothing, that's gone forever. The ugly red stairs going up to my house, which always had peeling paint, that's gone too. The house, the place that held so many memories, it doesn't exist anymore. And it makes me sad.
But as I stand here in my old backyard, and I am suddenly flooded with memories, I know it will never really be gone. I thought I forgot. I thought I moved on. But you can't move on from a part of your life, the very most important part, the beginning.
I wonder if my old neighbors remember everything like I do. Or if they even care. I wish I had someone to reminisce with, someone who was there with me. But they are all grown up. I don't even know them anymore. But we shared a childhood, and that can never be erased.
I left. The backyard doesn't look like I remembered it. It's much smaller. Or maybe it just seemed so much bigger to a small child of 5. But either way, now I know. I know I'll never forget it. Cuz all my memories are in a place where I can return to whenever I want. In my heart.
Goodbye backyard. Thanks for reminding me of the good times.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
What I like to do
Someone asked me what I like to do for fun, and I thought, I have no idea. But that didn't sound like agood answer. So I came up with a list. Hey, I actually like to do stuff!!
What I like to do for fun/ chillllll
-Watch TV/ movies; go to the movies
-Take a walk/drive
-Go to Manhattan, or some other big busy place
-Take a walk in the park; go to the beach, anywhere with water. Love streams and lakes
-Read (not all the time though.)
-Paint
-Ice skate
-Bike riding, rollerblading, occasionally
-Write
-Walking or running, breaking a sweat (exercise)
-Listen to music
-Hang out with friends (which usually involved hookah, bars, or just sitting around chilling, talking.)
-Arcades, amusement parks (but NOT roller coasters), ping pong, (but NOT pool, I can't play that), air hockey, I'm really good at that.
-extreme dance machine. Never actually played it, but it looks really cool, I'd like to try it
-Boating, ferries, but NOT kayaks or rowboats
-Sit in Starbucks. I LOVE their couches there, and the ambiance
-Frisbees. Hopscotch. Play on a kids jungle gym. It's fun
-Going on the swings
-Basketball, though I suck at it
-Love to cook and create stuff
-Love to boss people around, run an event
-Enjoy watching kids, in classroom setting or casual. Taking them places and making them happy
-Build stuff, do arts n crafts. But I have no patience for coloring in the lines
-People watching
-I actually enjoy cleaning for fun. It is very satisfying to clean stuff. Let's off steam
-Set stuff on fire. Fire is cool and pretty. I like bonfires/campfires
-Love walking dogs, though I don't have a dog and probably never will. But of all the animals, they are the most fun and friendly
-Ohhhhhhhh I almost forgot- I LOVE to shop. Especially when I have money to spend. The smell of new clothes is intoxicating, and I get a high from walking out of the store with new purchases. It's almost as good as chocolate.
-Love watching sunrise or sunset. Whichever one I’m awake for.
-Love playing solitaire
What I do NOT like to do
-I do NOT like to learn for fun. Learning is something I associate with school, which gives me the creeps just to think about it. I am still in that stage where learning equals torture of the mind, and I have not grown up enough to reach the stage where learning is fun and enjoyable, and done for pleasure. So no, learning is NOT on this list.
-I do NOT like to knit, crochet, sew, or do needlepoint. Those things are for old people, or extremely bored souls, of which I am neither. Yet.
-I do NOT like museums, specifically not art or history museums. I find them extremely boring
-I do NOT like theaters or opera
-I do NOT enjoy swimming, but enjoy lounging in or around the pool
-I do NOT like to garden. That's boring. If things grow by themselves, cool, if not, who cares.
-I do NOT like to watch sports,(besides for MAYBE hockey) hear about it at all. I think it's a guy thing, and it's stupid and pointless
-I hate fish (in fish tanks). Just saying, I would never want to own fish. They are boring as hell. And cats. They are mean obnoxious unfriendly creatures. Can't stand them.
What I would LIKE to try
-Would like to try skateboarding
-Ride a motorcycle
-Get piss drunk
-Break a record
-Learn a musical instrument
-Write a book
-Hot wire a car
-Bungee jumping; sky diving, just for the thrill
-Hot air balloon
-Fly a plane
-Dye my hair
-Go to a shooting range
-Go fishing
-Skiing, snow tubing, any kind of mountain sports
-Get a tattoo (not really, just have to include that, like all the other degenerate teenagers)
-Act in a movie
-Go to a hockey game
-One day I want to own an inn, on an island near a lighthouse. It's gonna be really pretty, and I'm gonna run the place, and cook, and everything. It'll be awesome.
-Buy a boat
-Become an inspirational speaker. Don't know yet what I'll talk about, but I'll inspire people
-Get an empty room, and paint the walls however I want. Splatter it with paint. That's cool
-Do graffiti on the side of a building
-Throw dollar bills off the Empire state building, and watch them float in the breeze. Then laugh when people scramble to pick them up
-Build a sculpture out of diet coke cans, and submit it to a museum of Cool Stuff
-Go scuba diving, and check out a ship wreck
-Build a tree house
-Be part of an improv everywhere (random acting or dancing in a public place.)
-Gamble; go to a casino, go to Vegas.
-Take a road trip. Maybe to California
-Swim with dolphins
In conclusion to this little experiment, I have decided that I was right all along- I am at heart a loner. I enjoy my own company. I can't stand socializing with idiots. At times, people annoy me immensely, and I question why G-d made me a part of this bizarre race called humans. Sometimes I enjoy spending time with my friends, and sometimes I can't stand even them. (P.S.- No no no no, I LOVE you guys!!! I didn't mean that!!!!) Sometimes I like to be alone, and go places by myself. I like to shop alone which some females find appalling. But yes, I am confident enough that I am able to make purchases without another female voice squealing over how good it looks on me. I KNOW it looks good on me, thank you.
Though some people might think that being a loner is a negative thing, or that I am a boring person, I think those people are stupid, and they should go to (blank). Plus, I don't really care what people think. I like myself.
Though this may sound very much like I am trying to convince people, or even myself, that I am an awesome person, make no mistakes- I AM an awesome person, I already know that, and I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything, besides maybe convincing idiots to stop talking, and just look pretty.
-Watch TV/ movies; go to the movies
-Take a walk/drive
-Go to Manhattan, or some other big busy place
-Take a walk in the park; go to the beach, anywhere with water. Love streams and lakes
-Read (not all the time though.)
-Paint
-Ice skate
-Bike riding, rollerblading, occasionally
-Write
-Walking or running, breaking a sweat (exercise)
-Listen to music
-Hang out with friends (which usually involved hookah, bars, or just sitting around chilling, talking.)
-Arcades, amusement parks (but NOT roller coasters), ping pong, (but NOT pool, I can't play that), air hockey, I'm really good at that.
-extreme dance machine. Never actually played it, but it looks really cool, I'd like to try it
-Boating, ferries, but NOT kayaks or rowboats
-Sit in Starbucks. I LOVE their couches there, and the ambiance
-Frisbees. Hopscotch. Play on a kids jungle gym. It's fun
-Going on the swings
-Basketball, though I suck at it
-Love to cook and create stuff
-Love to boss people around, run an event
-Enjoy watching kids, in classroom setting or casual. Taking them places and making them happy
-Build stuff, do arts n crafts. But I have no patience for coloring in the lines
-People watching
-I actually enjoy cleaning for fun. It is very satisfying to clean stuff. Let's off steam
-Set stuff on fire. Fire is cool and pretty. I like bonfires/campfires
-Love walking dogs, though I don't have a dog and probably never will. But of all the animals, they are the most fun and friendly
-Ohhhhhhhh I almost forgot- I LOVE to shop. Especially when I have money to spend. The smell of new clothes is intoxicating, and I get a high from walking out of the store with new purchases. It's almost as good as chocolate.
-Love watching sunrise or sunset. Whichever one I’m awake for.
-Love playing solitaire
What I do NOT like to do
-I do NOT like to learn for fun. Learning is something I associate with school, which gives me the creeps just to think about it. I am still in that stage where learning equals torture of the mind, and I have not grown up enough to reach the stage where learning is fun and enjoyable, and done for pleasure. So no, learning is NOT on this list.
-I do NOT like to knit, crochet, sew, or do needlepoint. Those things are for old people, or extremely bored souls, of which I am neither. Yet.
-I do NOT like museums, specifically not art or history museums. I find them extremely boring
-I do NOT like theaters or opera
-I do NOT enjoy swimming, but enjoy lounging in or around the pool
-I do NOT like to garden. That's boring. If things grow by themselves, cool, if not, who cares.
-I do NOT like to watch sports,(besides for MAYBE hockey) hear about it at all. I think it's a guy thing, and it's stupid and pointless
-I hate fish (in fish tanks). Just saying, I would never want to own fish. They are boring as hell. And cats. They are mean obnoxious unfriendly creatures. Can't stand them.
What I would LIKE to try
-Would like to try skateboarding
-Ride a motorcycle
-Get piss drunk
-Break a record
-Learn a musical instrument
-Write a book
-Hot wire a car
-Bungee jumping; sky diving, just for the thrill
-Hot air balloon
-Fly a plane
-Dye my hair
-Go to a shooting range
-Go fishing
-Skiing, snow tubing, any kind of mountain sports
-Get a tattoo (not really, just have to include that, like all the other degenerate teenagers)
-Act in a movie
-Go to a hockey game
-One day I want to own an inn, on an island near a lighthouse. It's gonna be really pretty, and I'm gonna run the place, and cook, and everything. It'll be awesome.
-Buy a boat
-Become an inspirational speaker. Don't know yet what I'll talk about, but I'll inspire people
-Get an empty room, and paint the walls however I want. Splatter it with paint. That's cool
-Do graffiti on the side of a building
-Throw dollar bills off the Empire state building, and watch them float in the breeze. Then laugh when people scramble to pick them up
-Build a sculpture out of diet coke cans, and submit it to a museum of Cool Stuff
-Go scuba diving, and check out a ship wreck
-Build a tree house
-Be part of an improv everywhere (random acting or dancing in a public place.)
-Gamble; go to a casino, go to Vegas.
-Take a road trip. Maybe to California
-Swim with dolphins
In conclusion to this little experiment, I have decided that I was right all along- I am at heart a loner. I enjoy my own company. I can't stand socializing with idiots. At times, people annoy me immensely, and I question why G-d made me a part of this bizarre race called humans. Sometimes I enjoy spending time with my friends, and sometimes I can't stand even them. (P.S.- No no no no, I LOVE you guys!!! I didn't mean that!!!!) Sometimes I like to be alone, and go places by myself. I like to shop alone which some females find appalling. But yes, I am confident enough that I am able to make purchases without another female voice squealing over how good it looks on me. I KNOW it looks good on me, thank you.
Though some people might think that being a loner is a negative thing, or that I am a boring person, I think those people are stupid, and they should go to (blank). Plus, I don't really care what people think. I like myself.
Though this may sound very much like I am trying to convince people, or even myself, that I am an awesome person, make no mistakes- I AM an awesome person, I already know that, and I'm not trying to convince anyone of anything, besides maybe convincing idiots to stop talking, and just look pretty.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Tiredness state of mind
There is something rather reluctant about goodbyes. Goodbyes are endings. Endings are lost opportunities. Or new beginnings? I don't like goodbyes. Or endings. There is something sad about the final act. When the show winds down and the curtain is about to close, and you know it is almost over, and then that's it. And then you think, now what? And you freeze in place. You can't go back, but is there really somewhere to move forward to?
I hate the endings of movies. And TV shows. When you are almost at the last episode, and you are not quite sure HOW it is going to end, only that it will, somehow. And you want to prolong it for as long as you can, until you feel ready to say goodbye, and move on. But you feel like you will never be ready. And that is the scariest part.
There is something about admitting feelings to myself, and even more so, to others, that scares the heck out of me. That is another ending. Once it's done, it's done. Either the feelings will be reciprocated, and you will start a new reality, or they won't, and that will be it. The end, Goodbye. I hate goodbyes. I hate endings, you know that already.
There is something so hard about trying. When you are a defeatist, and you give up before you have actually tried. When you prepare yourself for failure, and get ready for disappointment, before you have taken a chance. If you don't try, you will never know. But maybe not knowing is better, if the knowledge will bring with it pain? But then again, what is life without pain? Is there anyone who has gone through life and actually lived, really lived, and not experienced pain? I doubt it.
Folding your arms is a protective gesture. Being on the defense. Guarding your heart before anyone can stomp on it. If you let people in you might get hurt. If you don't, you are sure to get hurt, cuz you will never actually experience life, and love. So which is better? Or worse?
I am so tired. So, so tired. My eyes are hurting. I was driving in the rain thinking, I really shouldn't be driving in the rain when I'm this tired. But I did anyway. And I love the rain. It is so pure and fresh. It washes everything away, and makes it feel like new. It calms, and it sympathizes, and it soothes. It is my friend. I like the rain.
Right now I don't want to feel. I want to go to sleep and forget about things until tomorrow. Then maybe I will think about it. Or not. We shall see.
It is almost the end. Not that big an ending, but still. I hate endings, big or small. They make me sad.
Gnite world. It'll all be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end. Here's to good endings, and even better beginnings.
I hate the endings of movies. And TV shows. When you are almost at the last episode, and you are not quite sure HOW it is going to end, only that it will, somehow. And you want to prolong it for as long as you can, until you feel ready to say goodbye, and move on. But you feel like you will never be ready. And that is the scariest part.
There is something about admitting feelings to myself, and even more so, to others, that scares the heck out of me. That is another ending. Once it's done, it's done. Either the feelings will be reciprocated, and you will start a new reality, or they won't, and that will be it. The end, Goodbye. I hate goodbyes. I hate endings, you know that already.
There is something so hard about trying. When you are a defeatist, and you give up before you have actually tried. When you prepare yourself for failure, and get ready for disappointment, before you have taken a chance. If you don't try, you will never know. But maybe not knowing is better, if the knowledge will bring with it pain? But then again, what is life without pain? Is there anyone who has gone through life and actually lived, really lived, and not experienced pain? I doubt it.
Folding your arms is a protective gesture. Being on the defense. Guarding your heart before anyone can stomp on it. If you let people in you might get hurt. If you don't, you are sure to get hurt, cuz you will never actually experience life, and love. So which is better? Or worse?
I am so tired. So, so tired. My eyes are hurting. I was driving in the rain thinking, I really shouldn't be driving in the rain when I'm this tired. But I did anyway. And I love the rain. It is so pure and fresh. It washes everything away, and makes it feel like new. It calms, and it sympathizes, and it soothes. It is my friend. I like the rain.
Right now I don't want to feel. I want to go to sleep and forget about things until tomorrow. Then maybe I will think about it. Or not. We shall see.
It is almost the end. Not that big an ending, but still. I hate endings, big or small. They make me sad.
Gnite world. It'll all be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end. Here's to good endings, and even better beginnings.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
A post for a friend
You know who you are. I promised you a post. Here goes:
Driving over the bridge at 8 am was glorious!! The sun was shining brilliantly on the water, there were boats floating along, and the best part was, I wasn't dreaming!!!
It feels good to be up at a normal hour, when people are out and about (or as they say it in Canada, oot and aboot.) Rather than being up all hours of the night, when it is dark and silent in the house.
Maybe I'll even make it an every day thing, instead of once in a blue moon. (Where did that expression come from? Is there even such a thing as blue moons??)
Hello 8 am. It's nice to see you again!
Driving over the bridge at 8 am was glorious!! The sun was shining brilliantly on the water, there were boats floating along, and the best part was, I wasn't dreaming!!!
It feels good to be up at a normal hour, when people are out and about (or as they say it in Canada, oot and aboot.) Rather than being up all hours of the night, when it is dark and silent in the house.
Maybe I'll even make it an every day thing, instead of once in a blue moon. (Where did that expression come from? Is there even such a thing as blue moons??)
Hello 8 am. It's nice to see you again!
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Kiddies times five
When I was a young student in grade school, I thought that teachers never went to the bathroom, and that they never ate. After all, they're teachers. That makes them only half human. But then I discovered that it wasn't true.
I found myself on the other end of the spectrum. Now I know why teachers don't eat in front of students. (Besides for one teacher I had who actually ate lunch with us. I watched her try to eat soup through perfectly lipsticked lips, and that's when I knew I never wanted to wear lipstick. It looked very difficult.) It makes the kids jealous. I tried to eat snack today in front of the kids. They wanted some. I guess everything is more desirable when a teacher is eating it.
I found myself in the land of the kiddies again. If you read this post, you'll remember the kids I taught last year for 3 days. This was the same group of kids. I substituted again. They haven't changed much. But it's funny to watch kids grow. I feel accomplished, like I actually taught them something. Made a difference.
They are cute kids. One girl gasps after every word she says, it makes me laugh. Her sentences end up coming out sounding something like: "Morah- but she- already- had a- tuuurn. And she- said- I couldn't- share!" It's funnier when you hear it.
Theres the leader of the pack, who won't listen and talks back. She's the kind of kid that the teachers describe as having a 'very strong personality' to say it in nice terms.
There's one boy in all the girls. He's nice and well behaved.
One girl that bursts into tears at the littlest thing. You need lots of patience with her. But she's cute.
And one girl who's an angel and lives in her own little world. Always smiling, and when the other kids aren't nice to her she doesn't even notice.
See- I can't be a teacher. Or a parent. It's only been 2 days and already I've categorized and labeled them, and even have a favorite. You're supposed to look at kids as 'little flowers with lots of room to grow', as I hear. Hmmmm.
Funny story- we were doing an arts n crafts using glue. I have fond memories of glue in school. We would spread a thin layer on our hands during class, then when it dried peel it off starting with a hole in the center and rolling it over and over so you end up with a glue bracelet. Or we would just have fun peeling it off. So I stupidly decided to do that. But I put to much on one hand and I wanted it to dry faster, so I rubbed both hands together. Now I had two gluey hands. Then I was waving them around and blowing on them to get them to dry faster, and I kept thinking, you idiot, what if one of the kids needs something, or theres an emergancy, and your hands are occupied? Anyway, it dried and i peeled it off and I learned my lesson- do not have fun with glue while taking care of kids.
One of the kids came in with her shoes on the wrong feet. classic case of 'look-at-me-i'm-a-big-girl-who-dresses-myself.' I gently pointed out her mistake, to which she said, 'it's okay, I don't care.'
And then during gym there's these big bins that they use to store the balls. So the kids turned them over and hid under them, then took turns pushing the bins with kids underneath. And then there was a moving bin all by itself. It looked quite funny.
All in all it was a very very exhausting but fulfilling 2 days. Besides for the part where I drove home and got lost and got back and hour later than schedule. Stupid unreliable GPS. But now I can do highway driving without my heart pounding. During the day at least.
Oh and the best part- during coloring time the kids have this thing where they all want to copy eachother. Then there's always the kid who's not nice and says certain kids can't copy her paper. I kept pointing out that a) you should be original and not copy someone elses drawing, which they didn't buy and b) copying is the highest form of flattery. To which one kid answered 'ya but if she doesn't want anyone to copy her, then it's not nice.' I finally got fed up and said, 'okay Morah will color the paper, and you could copy me.' That made the kid happy. Then I told her, you color your picture by yourself and I will copy you. She liked that even better. Until all the kids got it in their heads that they wanted morah to copy them. But my paper was all colored. Oh well.
Wow coloring was fun. And as I told the kids, you don't have to color in the lines cuz we're cutting it out anyway. The truth is, I have no patience for lines. Or coloring.
Kids. They are a funny bunch.
I found myself on the other end of the spectrum. Now I know why teachers don't eat in front of students. (Besides for one teacher I had who actually ate lunch with us. I watched her try to eat soup through perfectly lipsticked lips, and that's when I knew I never wanted to wear lipstick. It looked very difficult.) It makes the kids jealous. I tried to eat snack today in front of the kids. They wanted some. I guess everything is more desirable when a teacher is eating it.
I found myself in the land of the kiddies again. If you read this post, you'll remember the kids I taught last year for 3 days. This was the same group of kids. I substituted again. They haven't changed much. But it's funny to watch kids grow. I feel accomplished, like I actually taught them something. Made a difference.
They are cute kids. One girl gasps after every word she says, it makes me laugh. Her sentences end up coming out sounding something like: "Morah- but she- already- had a- tuuurn. And she- said- I couldn't- share!" It's funnier when you hear it.
Theres the leader of the pack, who won't listen and talks back. She's the kind of kid that the teachers describe as having a 'very strong personality' to say it in nice terms.
There's one boy in all the girls. He's nice and well behaved.
One girl that bursts into tears at the littlest thing. You need lots of patience with her. But she's cute.
And one girl who's an angel and lives in her own little world. Always smiling, and when the other kids aren't nice to her she doesn't even notice.
See- I can't be a teacher. Or a parent. It's only been 2 days and already I've categorized and labeled them, and even have a favorite. You're supposed to look at kids as 'little flowers with lots of room to grow', as I hear. Hmmmm.
Funny story- we were doing an arts n crafts using glue. I have fond memories of glue in school. We would spread a thin layer on our hands during class, then when it dried peel it off starting with a hole in the center and rolling it over and over so you end up with a glue bracelet. Or we would just have fun peeling it off. So I stupidly decided to do that. But I put to much on one hand and I wanted it to dry faster, so I rubbed both hands together. Now I had two gluey hands. Then I was waving them around and blowing on them to get them to dry faster, and I kept thinking, you idiot, what if one of the kids needs something, or theres an emergancy, and your hands are occupied? Anyway, it dried and i peeled it off and I learned my lesson- do not have fun with glue while taking care of kids.
One of the kids came in with her shoes on the wrong feet. classic case of 'look-at-me-i'm-a-big-girl-who-dresses-myself.' I gently pointed out her mistake, to which she said, 'it's okay, I don't care.'
And then during gym there's these big bins that they use to store the balls. So the kids turned them over and hid under them, then took turns pushing the bins with kids underneath. And then there was a moving bin all by itself. It looked quite funny.
All in all it was a very very exhausting but fulfilling 2 days. Besides for the part where I drove home and got lost and got back and hour later than schedule. Stupid unreliable GPS. But now I can do highway driving without my heart pounding. During the day at least.
Oh and the best part- during coloring time the kids have this thing where they all want to copy eachother. Then there's always the kid who's not nice and says certain kids can't copy her paper. I kept pointing out that a) you should be original and not copy someone elses drawing, which they didn't buy and b) copying is the highest form of flattery. To which one kid answered 'ya but if she doesn't want anyone to copy her, then it's not nice.' I finally got fed up and said, 'okay Morah will color the paper, and you could copy me.' That made the kid happy. Then I told her, you color your picture by yourself and I will copy you. She liked that even better. Until all the kids got it in their heads that they wanted morah to copy them. But my paper was all colored. Oh well.
Wow coloring was fun. And as I told the kids, you don't have to color in the lines cuz we're cutting it out anyway. The truth is, I have no patience for lines. Or coloring.
Kids. They are a funny bunch.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Please G-d, just today
Please G-d, if you won't give me tomorrow, then at least let me have today.
Make it a good day. An awesome day. Please G-d, just today.
If I won't see another sunrise, or another thunderstorm, if I won't feel the snowflakes on my bare skin tomorrow, then please G-d, at least today.
If I won't hear another laugh, or see another smile, if I won't hear your voice tomorrow, then please G-d, at least today.
Make it a good day. An awesome day. Please G-d, just today.
I'm not asking for much. Just let me have these moments. Let me have these memories.
One more drive, one more text, one more phone call. One more hug, one more moment, one more smile. One more day.
If not tomorrow, then please G-d, at least today.
Make it a good day. An awesome day. Please G-d, just today.
Make it a good day. An awesome day. Please G-d, just today.
If I won't see another sunrise, or another thunderstorm, if I won't feel the snowflakes on my bare skin tomorrow, then please G-d, at least today.
If I won't hear another laugh, or see another smile, if I won't hear your voice tomorrow, then please G-d, at least today.
Make it a good day. An awesome day. Please G-d, just today.
I'm not asking for much. Just let me have these moments. Let me have these memories.
One more drive, one more text, one more phone call. One more hug, one more moment, one more smile. One more day.
If not tomorrow, then please G-d, at least today.
Make it a good day. An awesome day. Please G-d, just today.
Monday, January 11, 2010
An 'awwww' moment
I was lamenting over the fact that I don't own a pair of Crocs, when most members of my family do, and that the inconvenience of not owning Crocs causes me to either walk around the house in flip flops (sometimes with socks, to make it more tznius), or with just socks, which equals more laundry.
I tried borrowing my sister's pair, but she wasn't too happy about that. (Especially because our definitions of the word 'borrow' differs from each other)
My little brother (who's 12) chivalrously tried to lend me his, but I politely declined, cuz I felt bad.
Then he asked me, casually, "Altie, what size shoe do you wear?"
And I was thinking, awwwww that's so sweet of him, he wants to buy me Crocs. I told him he didn't have to, but he said, I know, just tell me what size you wear, I wanna know.
So I told him. Don't know if he will remember, or actually go ahead and use his meager funds to buy me a pair, but I find it extremely sweet.
I tried borrowing my sister's pair, but she wasn't too happy about that. (Especially because our definitions of the word 'borrow' differs from each other)
My little brother (who's 12) chivalrously tried to lend me his, but I politely declined, cuz I felt bad.
Then he asked me, casually, "Altie, what size shoe do you wear?"
And I was thinking, awwwww that's so sweet of him, he wants to buy me Crocs. I told him he didn't have to, but he said, I know, just tell me what size you wear, I wanna know.
So I told him. Don't know if he will remember, or actually go ahead and use his meager funds to buy me a pair, but I find it extremely sweet.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Thursday, January 7, 2010
To Pesha Leah
Tell me, did it hurt? Was it painful? Was there really a bright light at the end of the tunnel, like they describe in the books? Was your relatives who have passed away waiting for you? What was it like?
Were you afraid? Or scared, or even sad? Did you regret not getting the chance to say goodbye? Do you even now long to be back here?
One day. One night. That's all. Now everything changed.
I don't know you, but I saw your picture. I recognize you, we were in the same 'system', and I've seen you around before. You were in my sister's class.
It is weird to look at a picture of you and think that you are no longer here. Somehow I don't understand. Where did you go? Is there really a place called heaven? Did you see any angels? Are you ever going to come back to tell us how it was?
I'm mad. I was driving on the highway today and I was nervous, because I'm not used to it. And there were drivers beeping at me when I swerved out of my lane. I wanted to cry. And I thought, what's your problem? Don't you see how nervous I am? Cut me some slack, I'm a new driver. And I was stressed, and I came home upset.
And then I found out. I don't know you, but my tears won't stop. And I don't know why you had to go. And I feel selfish for living, when you no longer can. Somehow it seems like your life was more important than mine. I don't know you, but in my mind you were a better person then me, and you deserved to live, cuz you were doing such a great job so far.
I know what they will say. You were a special soul, you completed your mission here, it was time for you to go. Now you are sitting by G-d's throne, you are surrounded by angels, it is good up there. Yes, I know all that, and more.
But there is now a husband without a wife, and the world is missing someone.
I don't understand it. Maybe I'll never understand it.
I just discovered your blog. Your poetry is beautiful. It was a sad feeling though. Like, now it is too late. I can go through the archives and read all your old stuff, but your bog will now sit there, drying up, frozen in time, last post dated Tuesday, January 5 2010, just one short day before you were taken. And it baffles me. It makes no sense.
First you were here, and now you're not, and you're never coming back??? I never had a chance to meet you, or befriend you on facebook. I just found you, your pictures are beautiful. And now that too will lay untouched, cuz no one will update your statuses now.
Please relay this message to G-d: We have suffered enough!!! We have cried too many tears! It is time to end this golus and send us Moshiach!!!!!! NOW!!!
Be safe, Pesha Leah. May all the angels be with you, and may you be granted a place right by G-d's throne, center stage.
And we will see you again very soon, very very soon.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Mothers bring the food
That's just what they do. If you ask me what a mother's job is I'll selfishly say 'to provide food. Duh.' Of course, they do so much more then that. But who can live without food? Right, no one.
'Ma, what's for dinner?'
'Ma, there's noooooo fooooood in the house!'
'Ma, I'm starving, what's there to eat?'
'I opened the fridge 3 times and there's nothing there I like!'
Mother's provide food. That's just what they do. That's why they go to the grocery store every day, and load up shopping carts full of food.
That's why before every trip, even a really short one, they make you sandwiches, and pack you a lunch.
That's why as you are running out the door to go help a friend they scream after you, 'but you didn't eat your soup!' And when you say, 'Ma, I'll eat it later', they say, 'But you'll be hungry!'
Rolling my eyes.
That's why they buy bags and bags of junk food, when they are going to visit son in yeshiva. Cuz obviously, they don't feed him there. He must be starving. And of course pop corn and chips will fill him up. Duh.
That's why they are always in the kitchen. And why they leave a note saying where dinner is when they are not gonna be home. And why they microwave pizza for you when you come home from school cuz they know you'll be staaaaaarving.
Mother's provide food. That's just what they do.
They make it look easy. I ask my mother, how did you make that? And she laughs and says, oh that? You mix up some ingredients, that's all. But somehow when I 'mix up some ingredients' it turns out all wrong.
If you asked me who made the supper I'd say, no one, it just appeared on the table. Cuz that's what it seems. But I know the truth.
Mother's provide food. Food= love. Lots of food= lots of ________. You do the math.
'Ma, what's for dinner?'
'Ma, there's noooooo fooooood in the house!'
'Ma, I'm starving, what's there to eat?'
'I opened the fridge 3 times and there's nothing there I like!'
Mother's provide food. That's just what they do. That's why they go to the grocery store every day, and load up shopping carts full of food.
That's why before every trip, even a really short one, they make you sandwiches, and pack you a lunch.
That's why as you are running out the door to go help a friend they scream after you, 'but you didn't eat your soup!' And when you say, 'Ma, I'll eat it later', they say, 'But you'll be hungry!'
Rolling my eyes.
That's why they buy bags and bags of junk food, when they are going to visit son in yeshiva. Cuz obviously, they don't feed him there. He must be starving. And of course pop corn and chips will fill him up. Duh.
That's why they are always in the kitchen. And why they leave a note saying where dinner is when they are not gonna be home. And why they microwave pizza for you when you come home from school cuz they know you'll be staaaaaarving.
Mother's provide food. That's just what they do.
They make it look easy. I ask my mother, how did you make that? And she laughs and says, oh that? You mix up some ingredients, that's all. But somehow when I 'mix up some ingredients' it turns out all wrong.
If you asked me who made the supper I'd say, no one, it just appeared on the table. Cuz that's what it seems. But I know the truth.
Mother's provide food. Food= love. Lots of food= lots of ________. You do the math.
Cookies will be my downfall
UUUUUU (that's a sound that is very much like a sigh, like kind of wistful, kind of annoyed at the same time, it's hard to explain, you just have to hear it.)Cookies. Oh sweet crunchy cookies. Soft chewy chocolaty chip ones, and hard crunchy granola ones. Sandwich cookies with cream inside, black and white creamy cookies, and the fake Jewish oreo cookies. Cookies covered in chocolate, double double fudge, you name it.
I try so hard to stay away from them, but they stare at me with their beady little eyes and say, 'eat me! Eat me!' And I take pity on them cuz they sound so pitiful.
Damn you cookies for getting the best of me.
Hey world, what's up?
"The sun is shining, the fish are dancing, hodu leHashem ki tov!!"
I'm happy and there's no reason why. Or, many causes to be happy.
I sang in the kitchen, when no one was there.
I made a really good soup.
I helped a friend move out of her apartment.
It's nice weather out today, fresh and crisp, not too cold, just the way I like it.
I got sleep last night and I feel well-rested.
I watched a really good movie (the Shawshank redemption, if you must know. A must see, by the way.)
The semester is almost over. Now I have some vacation.
I got an A on an essay I wrote, which is a really big accomplishment! The teacher is British, which in my opinion means she has no business teaching English in the United States. And she is stingy with her A's. Till now I only got B's. And when I said 'yay I got an A!' she said, really, you sure it's not an A-? Cuz apparently she doesn't give A's very often, but I, oh humble me, got one, and that is cause for celebration!!
I walked into the house and there was pizza waiting on the table. My mama had to go somewhere, but she made sure there was food to eat. That made me smile. I don't eat pizza, but that's okay.
World, smile with me, cuz there are many reasons to be happy!!!
I'm happy and there's no reason why. Or, many causes to be happy.
I sang in the kitchen, when no one was there.
I made a really good soup.
I helped a friend move out of her apartment.
It's nice weather out today, fresh and crisp, not too cold, just the way I like it.
I got sleep last night and I feel well-rested.
I watched a really good movie (the Shawshank redemption, if you must know. A must see, by the way.)
The semester is almost over. Now I have some vacation.
I got an A on an essay I wrote, which is a really big accomplishment! The teacher is British, which in my opinion means she has no business teaching English in the United States. And she is stingy with her A's. Till now I only got B's. And when I said 'yay I got an A!' she said, really, you sure it's not an A-? Cuz apparently she doesn't give A's very often, but I, oh humble me, got one, and that is cause for celebration!!
I walked into the house and there was pizza waiting on the table. My mama had to go somewhere, but she made sure there was food to eat. That made me smile. I don't eat pizza, but that's okay.
World, smile with me, cuz there are many reasons to be happy!!!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Happy new years!
Tonight is New Years. Not our new years, of course, that was 3 months ago. Tonight is the goyish new year, and it symbolizes the end of and era, and the beginning of a new time. No more 2009, now it's 2010. The funny thing is, I've already been thinking of it as 2010 for awhile now. Much like you view yourself as a year older then you are as you approach your birthday. And then when it comes the new number seems natural, not new at all.
I wonder if people will refer to it as the year 'two thousand and ten' or 'twenty ten'. Interesting thought.
Tonight there will be swarms of people converging on Times Square. I was gonna be one of those people, but as it turns out, I'm home instead, nice warm and cozy, as it rains outside. I have to say, with all this talk about the ball dropping (no pun intended) it would have been cool to actually view it, after wondering about it for years, and never actually having seen it.
I have a mental image every year when it comes to new years. In the kids show 'Arthur' (one of my best childhood memories) the kids thought that there was a calendar police, and that at midnight on the dot they had to throw out their old calendars, and put up the new one. If they didn't do this the police would come. But they were kids, and so they fell asleep. And there was no calendar police after all.
I'm in a reflecting mood. Thoughtful. No, this holiday and celebration has no relevance or significance to me. But it is a change. And when something changes, things don't stay the same,. They are different. (That is like such a 'duh' moment.)
Only if you want to, pull out your party blower, and when the clock strikes midnight, give it a blow. There is a tradition to kiss someone at midnight. I will not be keeping that tradition this year, unless my mama's up, and cheek counts.
Look back at the past year, then look ahead, and don't look back again.
Happy new years, may it be a good one!
I wonder if people will refer to it as the year 'two thousand and ten' or 'twenty ten'. Interesting thought.
Tonight there will be swarms of people converging on Times Square. I was gonna be one of those people, but as it turns out, I'm home instead, nice warm and cozy, as it rains outside. I have to say, with all this talk about the ball dropping (no pun intended) it would have been cool to actually view it, after wondering about it for years, and never actually having seen it.
I have a mental image every year when it comes to new years. In the kids show 'Arthur' (one of my best childhood memories) the kids thought that there was a calendar police, and that at midnight on the dot they had to throw out their old calendars, and put up the new one. If they didn't do this the police would come. But they were kids, and so they fell asleep. And there was no calendar police after all.
I'm in a reflecting mood. Thoughtful. No, this holiday and celebration has no relevance or significance to me. But it is a change. And when something changes, things don't stay the same,. They are different. (That is like such a 'duh' moment.)
Only if you want to, pull out your party blower, and when the clock strikes midnight, give it a blow. There is a tradition to kiss someone at midnight. I will not be keeping that tradition this year, unless my mama's up, and cheek counts.
Look back at the past year, then look ahead, and don't look back again.
Happy new years, may it be a good one!
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Frustrated
Here are my frustrations:
I hate judgmental people; I've just discovered that I'm judgemental. I.e, do I hate myself?
Scenario: a guy with dark skin, looks kind of Arabic, Persian, or possibly Israeli. Clean shaven, no kippa. He starts talking to me, asking me questions. Turns out he used to be religious. Now he's just, I'm not sure how you would catagorize it. May I interrupt myself to say that I hate labels as well.
He grew up religious. His family is traditional. He went to a religious school. He has ultra orthodox relatives. I never quite understood how he came to leave all that. But he tells me, I'm a good Jew. I give tzedaka, I don't steal, or kill, (ya, most of us too), I keep kosher, and shabbat, mostly, but I'm so damn bored so I watch tv, and use the computer, but that's it.
He asks me a lot of questions, questionsa that I can't answer, and that bothers me a lot. He asks me what is the difference between Chabad and other Jews. What is tanya. Why do the satmar ladies shave their heads. (I have to say to that I had no answer, not even remotely.) Why do women wear shaitels, if they are supposed to cover their hair, but shaitels look beautiful and are attractive.
I squirmed. I made up some answers. I got the feeling that he was more trying to challenge me then actually seek answers. But still, he was asking me, and I didn't know how to answer. Which made me wonder: did they actually teach this in school, how to know what to answer people when asked these kinds of questions, and I just blocked it out as I always did? Or did I waste 19 years of my life, 15 years of wich I spent in school, and learned absolutely nothing. Am I a shame to all my teachers? Ouch that hurt a bit.
If he is a good Jew, because he does all that he does, then how am I different then him? I won't ask better, I know that here is no better in Judaism. But what makes me different then him? Because I actually do keep shabbos? Or kashrus?
It's like a math equation that went wrong somewhere along the way, and now I just can't solve it. Frustrations are just so frustrating.
I hate judgmental people; I've just discovered that I'm judgemental. I.e, do I hate myself?
Scenario: a guy with dark skin, looks kind of Arabic, Persian, or possibly Israeli. Clean shaven, no kippa. He starts talking to me, asking me questions. Turns out he used to be religious. Now he's just, I'm not sure how you would catagorize it. May I interrupt myself to say that I hate labels as well.
He grew up religious. His family is traditional. He went to a religious school. He has ultra orthodox relatives. I never quite understood how he came to leave all that. But he tells me, I'm a good Jew. I give tzedaka, I don't steal, or kill, (ya, most of us too), I keep kosher, and shabbat, mostly, but I'm so damn bored so I watch tv, and use the computer, but that's it.
He asks me a lot of questions, questionsa that I can't answer, and that bothers me a lot. He asks me what is the difference between Chabad and other Jews. What is tanya. Why do the satmar ladies shave their heads. (I have to say to that I had no answer, not even remotely.) Why do women wear shaitels, if they are supposed to cover their hair, but shaitels look beautiful and are attractive.
I squirmed. I made up some answers. I got the feeling that he was more trying to challenge me then actually seek answers. But still, he was asking me, and I didn't know how to answer. Which made me wonder: did they actually teach this in school, how to know what to answer people when asked these kinds of questions, and I just blocked it out as I always did? Or did I waste 19 years of my life, 15 years of wich I spent in school, and learned absolutely nothing. Am I a shame to all my teachers? Ouch that hurt a bit.
If he is a good Jew, because he does all that he does, then how am I different then him? I won't ask better, I know that here is no better in Judaism. But what makes me different then him? Because I actually do keep shabbos? Or kashrus?
It's like a math equation that went wrong somewhere along the way, and now I just can't solve it. Frustrations are just so frustrating.
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