Ten Years

I hate the picture. I mean, I know you are supposed to hate it, and universally it is like a 'let's hate our pictures' club, but I really hate it. He made me take off my glasses so there wouldn't be a glare. Today I looked better with my glasses on, I just know it. It was a lose-lose situation. 

I am talking about my new passport picture. The one I will have for the next ten years. 

Ten years. It feels so final. Ten more birthdays. A husband, children, a job, a house. Who knows what will happen in the coming ten years? It is weird to think that this picture, and the passport I have yet to get will be with me for that long.

A picture is a moment frozen in time. G-d willing I will look different by the time the next picture comes around.

Here's to a great ten years for everyone. Health, and happiness, and lots of good things.

Why I cry

You ask me why I cry

But I can't tell you why.

My mouth fills with saliva

As I try to chew my food

I try to swallow but I can't.

It is caused by the tears in my eyes

that won't stop falling.

They pool like a river in front of me.

I cry so hard until I can't breath

Silent sobs shaking my body.

My stomach clenches and I want to let it go.

I want this to end but I

Can't

Stop

Crying.

Winter in Orange Connecticut

I love the way my breath fogs up in the cold air. I love the way the snow falls, sometimes lazily and steadily, and at other times franticly. There are times it seems like the snow is just big chunks of paper cut up into uneven squares.

I don't like the cold. I also don't like waking up early. Today, I had both.

My hands numb even inside my gloves, shoulders hunched over the steering wheel, hair mussed from sleep, skirt and sweatshirt thrown on over pajamas, here I am at eight AM, my least favorite time of the day, in the cold. I am driving the girls to school.

The dorm is right next to school.

The snow fell all weekend and covered up the path through the woods to school, making it inaccessible. I am just doing my part in making sure these girls don't miss out on their education. I hope that goes on my list of good deeds.

The street we live on is an expressway. The only way to get back to the dorm is to make a U-turn and go all the way around the block; So much for being right next door.

This whole winter thing just doesn't sit right with me. Whenever it comes I always look forward to its end.

There is much to be said about winter, but warm and fuzzy it is not.

Comfortable in your own skin

Very few people are ever fully comfortable in their own body. They get self-conscious at times, situations embarrass them. If a person is fully comfortable with who they are, you can tell. They walk with a swagger, a certain walk that says I know who I am and I like who I am. This can be a humble walk. There is such a thing as quiet confidence.

There is a reason many people become actors. Acting is putting on a mask. Even in ones own life one may have many masks. Sometimes it is easier pretending you are someone else, then being confident in the real you. 

I don't like when people put on an act in regards to friendship. A fake friendship is no friendship at all. Rather treat me like a stranger and ignore me than pretend that you are happy to see me. But there are other areas of life where acting can be beneficial. 

Suppose you are like me and you have a hard time making decisions. This can have a negative effect on your life if you are constantly stalling because you can't decide what to do, or it takes you forever to make that final leap. It helps to take yourself out of the situation. Just for a moment, I imagine that I am not Altie struggling to make a decision that I can't decide about. Instead, I am hypothetically someone else. Hypothetically, this is a good choice and I would benefit from it. Hypothetically, I will be happy with my decision. Hypothetically, I already know what I will decide. 

So in that moment I reply with the affirmative, and the decision has been made. Of course it was me making the decision, but for a second I stopped thinking like I normally do, and acted as if I never had trouble making decisions my whole life, and in that second I was confident and sure of what I chose.

Sometimes that is all a person needs. To step outside of ones life, look at it as if from an observers perspective and say, if I weren't me with all my downfalls and negative characteristics and the usual things that hold me back from being the perfect me, what would I do?

Hopefully the hypothetical me will one day become the real me.

Happy Tu B'Shvat! Apple people

A friend of mine did this for Tu B'Shvat so I decided to copy her idea. Mine didn't turn out that great but here it is.

Silence

The snow falls softly and covers the earth, masking all sound. The silence is beautiful.

There are many different kinds of silence. There is angry silence, comfortable silence, awkward silence, tense silence. I like comfortable silence the most. When you are with someone and you don't feel the need to talk, because you are content to just be with that person or think your own private thoughts.

There is the silence of being by yourself. Most people don't talk to themselves when they are the only one around. It is okay to talk to yourself in a crowded grocery store, but when you are alone in the house it is weird to hear the sound of your own voice.

There is a certain morning silence. It is that time that starts when you wake up, and ends when you utter your first words of the day. Some people, myself included are not morning people, and would rather not talk in the morning if they don't have to.

I was struck by a weird thought. From when I woke up this morning, I did not speak to anyone until around three o'clock. There was simply no one around, until I went into a store and greeted the cashier. And even then it was maybe a word or two. If you don't see anyone or you are alone, you don't feel the need to talk. I see it as an opportunity to rest your vocal chords and just take everything in. When you are not busy gabbing away you are able to pay more attention to your surroundings.

I wonder what it would be like to be a mime.

There is a reason there are sayings like, "silence is golden." It is okay to be quiet sometimes, to refrain from talking and to just listen. To feel. When we stop talking we use our other senses and we see things or hear things we wouldn't have otherwise seen or heard.

Take a deep breath of fresh cold air, close your eyes and just listen. Feel the silence.

Remember

Sometimes it is hard to remember. I forget the little details, I forget the special times. Everything fades and blurs into each other, until I am afraid that I will forget my own childhood.

The oddest things stick with me. I remember when I was in first grade and my teacher was telling a scary story. She grabbed me to use me as a prop, when suddenly my tooth fell out.

My earliest memory is when I was three years old. I remember my old house in Massachusetts, but vaguely. I remember a garage sale, my uncle coming to visit, and a case of chocolate syrup. Sometimes I wonder if I made up these memories, maybe from stories my mother told me. But I know in a certain part of my brain, there are memories that are there but I can't remember them. And that scares me.

We take pictures to remember. We want to remember the fun times we had. I can only imagine having amnesia and not being able to remember who you are, or recognize the people closest to you.

It is a scary thing to forget. My mother told me a story of something I did when I was little, but I don't remember it. I don't remember how I celebrated my ninth birthday. I don't remember when my little brother was born. Sometimes I wish that I could record my whole life, so I will never forget anything.

And then I remember. I remember the things I try so hard to forget. I remember the people I wish I never met. I remember being scared, I remember being hurt, I remember situations I wish I was never in. and it is then that it hits me; the power of memory. G-d gave us memory so we could remember, but also the ability to forget. Sometimes, it is okay to forget. Sometimes we forget because we don't want to remember.

I remember the things that matter. And yes, I forget. It is hard to forget. It is hard to search your memory for something that you know must be in there, but you can't find it. It is like looking for something that is lost. I wonder if it is lost forever, or if it is in there somewhere, waiting for the right time to pop up, waiting until I need a reminder of a time long gone. And then it will surface.

Sometimes I worry that I will forget my childhood. Sometimes I worry that I will forget everything I ever learned. I worry about being old and having no memory at all.

But then I remember that I will never forget me. I will never forget who I am. I will never forget the people and the times that mattered the most. I am reassured because I know that there is a hidden part of me, the part that remembers how to walk every day, to eat and sleep and drink and talk, I know that part will never forget.

What I learned from a blizzard

The kinderlach decided to make a cake. (Kiderlach here referring to the dorm girls.) I said sure why not. Big mistake.

I came into the kitchen to find them using the milchig hand mixer with a fleishig bowl. So I told them they couldn't put the cake in the fleishig oven. We improvised and made two tiny little pans out of foil and baked them in the tiny toaster oven. Now we have two tiny cakes.

I figured it would be nice, they were all bonding, even though I know none of them really know how to bake. But they were bored. It's a snow day today.

I hear the 'big snow storm' missed New York and came to us instead. It started snowing last night, I don't know what time. I went to sleep late and woke up late and looked out my window to find the whole world covered in powdery white stuff. It is funny how something so little and insignificant can have the power to cancel school, to immobilize people.

I decided to drive over to school to prepare dinner (school is right next door.) I got only a few feet down the driveway when my car got stuck. So I left it there and walked. I trudged through literally two feet of snow. It came up to my knees. The side door at school was completely blocked off. Needless to say, the building is empty. My boots and leggings got caked in snow and I fell once. I can't remember why I used to like snow as a kid.

The professor taught me to find a lesson in everything. I was wondering, what can I learn from snow? Then it occurred to me. Snow is so pretty and shiny and beautiful. One snowflake is tiny and harmless. But when millions and billions of snowflakes pile up outside your door, or cover your entire driveway, then it is impossible to get out.

Each person on their own may be little or insignificant. One person may be the world, but there is not much you can do on your own. Maybe if everyone banded together towards one cause, one goal, anything is possible.

If people stopped judging other people by clothing and outer appearance, by where they go to shul, who they associate with, what they watch or listen to, and focus on the inside, on what really matters, on an individual's heart and soul, maybe moshiach would be here now. Who knows what it's gonna take.

Enjoy the beautiful snow, or lack of, and when you look around you see beyond the external. See the essence.

Tomorrow is a brand new day

I gave up today. In more ways than one.

Everybody has those days, when things just don't work out. It sucks. I tried to return something to Target, but they wouldn't take it because it didn't have the tag on. I could have sworn it didn't have a tag when I bought it. There's a waste of twenty dollars. Now I have to hold onto something that I don't need and will never use.

I needed to make dinner. I needed to go shopping. I had so many errands to run, and not that much time. And then I was asked to help out with a high school program. I am supposed to be a dorm counselor, but also a program director's assistant. Which comes first? I don't know. In my book, making dinner trumps sitting in a boring meeting for an hour and a half, doing nothing and getting nothing done, as people crack their heads brainstorming. I am supposed to be there because it is partly my job, but what they don't know is that brainstorming is almost my least favorite job, and I suck at it. I wish I was anywhere but there. How can I do all the things I need to do? Maybe I can split myself into a few Alties.

I cut someone off in traffic. It feels good. Then I remember that he didn't do anything to me, and he is not the reason I am having a bad day. I don't know why I am having a bad day. Optimists will say things like, smile and it'll all be okay. Turn that frown upside down. Your attitude determines your future.

I say, who cares about any of that stuff? Sometimes I think I was born with a frown on my face. I am a sworn pessimist. What can go wrong, will go wrong. Sometimes it's just not worth it to try to make yourself be happy. It's easier to just ride the wave of anger.

It takes a few funny comments from my friend and a little bit of fresh air for me to calm down.

It's hard when things go wrong. It's hard when I get upset and I am not in a good mood, no matter what. It's hard when I know I will never be one of those people who is always smiling, and finds the good in every situation no matter what happens. It is hard being a pessimist, believe me.

But at the end of the day I know that I will go to sleep and everything will look better in the morning. That is the advice my mother always gave me. It generally works. It is like the song by Ohad- stop, don't think about it, cuz tomorrow is a brand new day.

That is a reassuring feeling. It is nice to know that we get another chance tomorrow.

The Laugh

I was waiting in my car outside the store when I heard it. The Laugh. Two ladies were exchanging pleasantries, and as they turned to walk away, one of the ladies laughed.

It is a pleasant, slightly high pitched laugh. Kind of playful, yet flirty at the same time. It is a laugh that speaks volumes,

It can say things like: I have a secret life, but that is not for you to know about, so I will just laugh and keep you guessing.

It is a laugh that says, I am not fine despite what I say to you, so I laugh to try to prove to you that I am okay.

It says, I have no better way to end the conversation, but I really need to go, so I laugh.

It is a way of covering up the fact that you are uncomfortable.

It is a way of showing confidence, whether real or fake.

The Laugh is a language on its own. It says so many things, while not saying anything at all.

I can try for years, but I know I will never learn The Laugh. For it is not something that is learned. You either have it or you don't.

Clearly, I do not.

Never alone

I recently started reading a book called 'Don't look down' every night before I go to bed. It has short inspirational tidbits that are an easy read, and leaves you with something to think about as you drift off into the land of nothingness.

It gives a parable. There was a town that was located adjacent to a desert which was very hot and dry. Every stranger who passed through the desert to get to the town arrived thirsty and tired, all energy gone. In preparation for the journey, a person traveled light, sometimes with only the clothing on his back.

Once, a man arrived in the town carrying a heavy violin on his back. Despite the heavy weight, and the heat of the desert, the man seemed refreshed and energized, not tired and lethargic like most. The people of the town thought this most unusual, and so they inquired as to how he was not tired despite his heavy burden.

"Ah, but there is the answer, my friends. You look at it as a burden. But to me, it is what kept me going. When the sun got so hot and I began to tire, I sat down and played my violin. The beautiful music was like a balm on my soul. It refreshed me and gave me the strength to keep going. My violin is never a burden."

The comparison is the Torah. Some people look at it as a burden, something extra on top of everything else there is to worry about in life. They see it as an obligation, but nothing more than that. They resign themselves to their fate, and do it as if it is shackled to their leg.

What they don't realize is, the Torah is like the beautiful music. It is something that will keep us going and give us strength to overcome our real burdens in life. The Torah is not a burden. It is sustenance.

I watched a movie yesterday called "Letters to G-d". It is about a young boy who has cancer, and how he has such strong faith throughout it all. His mother despairs, his brother is filled with anger towards G-d, but the little boy Tyler, he writes letters to G-d. He tells G-d everything. About his best friend, how he wants to hear his mother laugh again, about his neighbors, and his classmates. Also about his cancer. He sends them in the mail, with postage stamp and all, addressed, 'To: G-d, From: Tyler'. It is cute, but he truly believes that it will get to G-d somehow.

It is based on a true story, and Tyler dies in the end. It is sad, but it is so beautiful to see a boy so young, and being sick on top of that, to have such strong faith and such a close connection to G-d.

Remember that. Whenever you are feeling alone, like you have no one to talk to, no one understands you, remember. There is always the One who will listen, He knows, He understands, and you can always turn to Him for comfort and for answers.

YOU

I think of you when I'm happy,
and I think of you when I'm sad.
I think of you when I'm lonely,
and I think of you when I'm mad.

I wonder where you are now,
and if you think of me.
I yearn to be together with you,
and start a family.

You are elusive,
I don't yet know who you are.
I wonder when that day will come,
it seems so very far.

I practice what I will say to you,
and how our meeting will be.
I make up a story in my head,
a fairytale so rosy.

Will we meet on a train, or a plane,
or in the grocery store?
Will it be on a date, or fate,
that will make you hold open the door?

Will I know you when I see you,
or will it take some time?
Will I reject you for someone better,
or mistake you for a mime?

I guess I can ask you all this
when you show up in my life.
But I don't know when, or where,
I will become your loving wife.

So meanwhile I wait for you,
but not to worry, I'm not bored.
I have to go make dinner,
I'm off to the grocery store.

I will wait in aisle seven,
come find me if you please.
'tis rather cold here,
I do not wish to freeze.

What G-d has in store, we can never know.
But when the clock ticks eight,
and you are late,
how long must I wait?

GOODBYE 2010!

And I just have to say it..... GOODBYE 2010! It's been a good year.

A pleasant surprise

For a second, I can't breath. It is literally a heartbeat, but in that heartbeat my lungs refuse to fill with air, my heart speeds up, my eyes lose focus and I still can't force air through my mouth. I hyperventilate. I tell myself that I am fine, that I am on solid ground, yet it feels like I am moving. The waves keep coming towards me, I see no land around me, and I am feeling nauseous. I thought it would be a freeing feeling, standing on a boardwalk suspended over the water. But the only thing I am feeling is nervousness and nausea. I shall never travel on a cruise ship. I like to be on solid ground.

Two classmates. Two, within two weeks of each other. That makes five out of thirteen. A pretty good ratio. But who is counting, right?

You stop being surprised after the first one, the second one more so. Why should you be surprised when it is to be expected? It is more like a pleasurable shock, a thrill. For a second I can't believe what my eyes see, but then I smile. I am euphoric. It is good, it is right.

After five, it is to be expected, but I don't feel ready. They keep coming, but I am not ready for this, for change. So you smile, you say, I knew she would be next, you wish mazal tov, and you wait for the next surprise.

I have two lechaims to go to on Sunday. My brother's, and my friend's. At least I won't have to dress up twice.

Mazal tov, and many more pleasant surprises.

Snow snowy snowingggggg

I regret to inform you that the world does not stop despite being covered by over a foot of snow.

I gaze at the beautiful wonderland outside my window after having watched it snow all night. Yes, all night. I am safe and sound in my house as I watch other poor souls shovel in the street. Shoveling for fun, perhaps. When the monsters we call snow plows come, no one will stand a chance. And cars will remain in their snowy graves for days to come.

Oh how I love the snow, for it is beautiful and wondrous.

Happy holidays! Tra la la la la la la la.

Vacation!

When I try to think happy thoughts, it usually reminds me of children. They have a tendency to be happy for no particular reason. The word giddy comes to mind. A child's laughter is pure and untainted by sorrows or troubles. To them, being happy is the norm, and troubles or problems are rare.

Why does it seem that for adults, trouble and stress and problems are typical, and to be happy and laugh and to relax is so unusual?

I like this time of year. Everyone comes alive. It is cold outside, but people are happy and jovial. They know the holidays are coming. Yes, there is a lot of stress around the holiday season too, because people are trying to find the perfect gift, but mostly you feel the cheer and goodwill.

I went to the mall the other day, and wondered why there was a security guard directing traffic. Then I realized that there are a lot of store goers because of the holidays. It is not my holiday, that is why I forgot about it. To me, it was just another shopping trip to the mall.

Sometimes it feels weird to be the odd one out.

I like the colorful lights and the spirits. Outside it is cold, and inside it is- well, it is not nice and warm. The dorm is freezing because we are out of heating oil. I naively thought it just heats up by itself.

We have a whole week of vacation coming up, and I am greatly looking forward to that. I might be working at a winter camp. Why work during your vacation? Because it is fun. And I enjoy being busy.

Have a good shabbos everyone, and refrain from learning Torah. Play chess instead. (One of these days I have got to learn how to play.)

Happy vacation to me!

Defeat

You fall
get back up
brush yourself off and move on.

You fall again
get back up, again
and move on.

But how many times
can you stand up
after taking such a hard fall?

How many times
can you move on
when you have no fight left at all?

You freeze
paralyzed with fear
can't move an inch

Not backwards
or forwards
just stare blankly into space.

Lost your diamond ring
in the mud
but too tired to search

Too tired to think
to do
to move.

Worth the effort
or worthless?
That is the question.

But how many times
will you find yourself
in this same situation

And how many times
will you make the same decision
and do nothing at all.

Do you have faith?
Do you believe in miracles?
Still, you need to make the effort.

But what if
after all this time
you have no fight left in you?

So I stand here
looking at the mud
and what was lost.

I can't bend down to pick it up.
I can't think.
I can't do anything but stand here.

Defeated.

Mazal tov!!!

My brother is engaged!!!!! This is my oldest brother who is 29 KA"H, and we have been waiting years for this day. I told my mother, now G-d is giving a sigh of relief and saying, finally that lady will leave me alone for a bit. My mother has put her life on hold to get my brother married.

The kallah is a really sweet girl. I am so very happy for the both of them, and can't wait for the lechaim, which will be in 2 weeks, and another wedding in my family! Iy''h may we have many more of those in the future, and only simchas!

Making babies

It is a common term in the secular world, especially on TV shows and movies, when a couple decides "we are ready, let's make a baby." They tell people, "we are trying to have a baby." And then when it doesn't happen right away they get worried, they try other ways. Wouldn't it be simpler to never have prevented kids in the first place?

Before I learned about birth control, this concept of making babies didn't make sense to me. You got married, you had babies. End of story. Where was there a choice about it, a decision? I figured it was all up to G-d. Things are already decided in heaven before a baby is even conceived. Where then, is our choice in the matter?

But like all things on this earth, we always have a choice. And people choose whether or not to have a baby, and when. And then whether or not to have more children.

To me it is not a choice. I plan on having as many kids as G-d throws at me G-d willing, and then begging G-d for all the help I can get.

I don't believe in birth control, because I think every potential child should have a chance at being born.

Think about all those cute little babies running around.

Coming home

I didn't plan on coming, but I ended up here. It was like something pulled me here, a force I could not, and did not want to control.

It was freezing, but it was worth it. The water was so beautiful. It was peaceful, yet stormy at the same time. It was the perfect combination.

I let my mind empty of all thoughts, and let the waves and the sound and the sight roll over me like a soothing lullaby. It felt like... coming home.

I threw crackers to the seagulls, and laughed as they all scrambled to grab them. They looked at me with imploring eyes begging silently for more. I tried to throw some to the birds who were off to the side and looked like they couldn't fend for themselves, but the bully birds always got there first. I guess their natural inclination is fight for food or go hungry.

It was fun down till the last crumb, and then they lost interest in me.

I have a few sea shells to show for my visit today, but mostly it is something inside of me, something I can't explain, can't describe. It is a feeling.

Life throws me curve balls, and I do my best to deal with them as they come up. But sometimes I just need to get away from it all. Escape.

I found my place.