Back to life

My sleep fogged brain is trying to comprehend what is going on around me. It is strange trying to get back into things after being away a whole week. And the first thing I did when I got back- make dinner. Oh yes they definitely missed me over here.

I had an amazing week in Toronto. It was so good to see everyone I haven't seen in awhile, and of course I'm happy I made it to the wedding. I'm G-d willing looking forward to many more simchas in the near future.

I can't help glancing at the calendar to see how many days are left. But there are lots of fun stuff coming up so I'll be quite busy.

Now it's back to work and back to life. All my body wants right now is sleep, but tomorrow morning it will really hit me that I'm back.

School revisited

How do you put emotions into words?

I walked into my old classroom from 12th grade. The wave of emotions that hit me were unexpected. I didn't like high school when I was there, so I assumed the same feelings of resentment would surface when I revisited. But instead I missed it.

I saw myself three years ago sitting there with my friends, joking and laughing and arguing. This is where it all took place. I missed the feeling of being a part of something, the feeling of being protected and part of a little world where everything that happened was on a much smaller scale. The repercussions of our actions were not that great. We were sheltered from the reality of the "real" world. I can't help feeling like I'm on my own now and everything I do really matters.

I had a heart to heart talk with my old principal, the very same one who I couldn't stand, who shoed me back into class and threatened to send me home when I cut class. Suddenly, I saw her in a different light. She did all that because she cared about me, and still does. I respect her in a much different way now. I feel like a real person, I live in the real world now instead of the pseudo-make believe world we called high school.

It was weird not knowing most of the girls there. But it was okay. They were not around when I was in high school, and they will never share my memories. I mean nothing to them but that's okay too. One day they won't mean anything to the next generation.

School was such a big part of my life. It's hard knowing it's over and will never be again.

Torono, Chrono, Chronto, Canada-aye

The coffee tastes really good. It goes down sweet and warm. Tastes like cinnamon. I am not a coffee person but I can make an exception once in awhile.

What do you write when you have nothing much to say? I figured, anything as long as it will bump my last dismal post farther down.

It is hard and sad when someone passes away. We went to pay the girls a shiva call. I didn't say much. What is there to say to them? I'm sorry you lost your father? No one should ever know from such sorrow.

I'm in Toronto now. When I arrived it was with a mix of curiosity, like I wonder how much the city has changed since I was last here two years ago. And a sense of familiarity, like I recognize that street, that store, that name. But thank G-d there was no feeling of dread since I am no longer entrapped in high school here.

It is 'Family Day' today here in Canada. A time to spend with ones family bonding, I suppose. Interestingly enough, all the stores are closed.

My head is still a bit woozy from my ten-plus hour bus ride. And of course sleeping half the day. Now that it is nighttime, time to explore.

The coffee is cold now. Toodeloo.

A life that was taken

I can't reverse the decision,

can't change back the clock.

Can't take away the pain

cannot make it stop.

Abundance of sorrow

river of tears

hearts that break,

deepest fears.

Just one day

will be remembered forever

commemorated,

not celebrated.

A father, a husband, and grandfather

so many things

to so many people

suddenly taken away.

I freeze, can't move

a part of me knew it could happen.

But the reality is like

a punch to the stomach.

I call my father to tell him

I love him.

But it is not really

about me.

It is about those two girls

and their family

who lost their father

yesterday.

We don't understand

we feel it's not fair.

And still we say

Baruch Dayan HaEmes.

February 14

February 14 is a day like any other. It doesn't mean much to me, it is just another day on the calendar.

To some people, February 14 is called Valentine's day. It comes hand in hand with red hearts, chocolate, flowers, and other cutesy stuff. People buy each other gifts, perhaps jewelry, they give out cards to tell their loved ones how much they mean to them.

I always figured, why concentrate it all on one day? Show the love by spreading it out throughout the year, and making sure to say I love you every day, in different ways.

Nobody asked me to be their valentine, but that's okay. There is a lot more to life then red hearts and candy.

Happy February 14.

P.S. Chocolates would be nice.

My life in a nutshell

As I sit here typing a blogpost on my dying Itouch in the laundromat many things come to mind. But none of which I can share with you dear blogger. Oh no, those thoughts are for my (non-existant) diary alone. What I can tell you however is that this Shabbos I will be going to Monsey and I will get to see my beautiful niece once again.

(I am now typing on a real computer, my ipod died after the word 'can').

I vowed to never be one of those people who broadcast their life, and their woes in particular, to the whole world. Honestly, I would rather keep all my problems and sorrows bottled up inside then bother other people with my burdens. Unhealthy, some might say. But everyone has their ways of dealing with things.

On the other hand, I am not the type to pop back up in a year or two to say, "oh by the way I got married and have a child now." I am of the opinion that good news should be shared. (Meaning an engagement.)

I also vowed to never discuss shidduchim and dating like it was a an item on the menu. Whether people talk about shidduchim bitterly, or put a humorous spin on it, I am of the opinion that it shouldn't be discussed, period, besides for with parents and close friends.

So if I can't talk about dating here, and I can't tell you what I'm really feeling and thinking and what is really going on in my life, then what can I say?

Sometimes silence is best.

I will be sojourning soon to another country for the occasion of my friend's wedding. It is a country we call our neighbors, but I don't give it much credence. Tis called the land of the Canadians.

Toronto, here I come.

Use caution

Two snow days in a row can make anyone go crazy. The funny thing is, it is not snowing out. Yesterday it hailed, and today the roads are frozen over.

What I am afraid of most: an icicle falling on my head and injuring me. And slipping on the ice and injuring myself.

Either way, today it is safest to stay inside.

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.