Beneath Your Beautiful

Would you let me see beneath your beautiful
Would you let me see beneath your perfect
Take it off now girl, take it off now girl
I wanna see inside
Would you let me see beneath your beautiful tonight

I saw him on the train, and I surreptitiously checked my reflection in the mirror, fluffed my hair, made sure I looked alright. I watched his reflection in the glass to see if he noticed me. When the crowd cleared from the train, that's when I saw the stick. My heart ached for him, for the colors he would never see, for not knowing how his own face looked, for never seeing beauty in the world. But my heart ached for me too, imagining being with someone who would never truly be able to tell me that he thought I was beautiful.

Am I so selfish, so vein, I thought. Am I so focused on external qualities that I can't appreciate the inner essence of a person? Do I really need someone to tell me every day that they think I look pretty, that I'm attractive and my hair is nice? Doesn't the inside count more? Isn't the compliment that much more sincere when someone tells you how they feel about you without ever being able to see you?

Like many females out there, I've had body image problems my whole life. As a teenager I imagined the countless boys who would look at me and tell me how hot they thought I was, how attractive I was. I didn't want just one boy, I wanted all the boys. I wanted to walk into a room and have heads turn to look at me, and say, damn that girl is hot, I want her to be mine.

Yes, as a frum girl we are brought up and taught all about tznius, how our beauty is on the inside, how we should cover up and hide our beauty from the world and share it only with one special person. Well, telling that to a teenager makes no sense, when all we see glaring at us from the covers of every magazine and every movie and every tv show are drop-dead-makes-your-heart-throb gorgeous models, the kind that guys salivate over, the kind that turns guys into mute blubbering idiots. And all guys want to be with them, and all women hate them but secretly want to BE them.

I thought, maybe, just maybe if I showed a little skin, they would want me. Maybe if I grew out my hair, maybe if I wore more makeup. I went looking for them, and not in the places where frum girls should be. I drank, and thought, this is it. This is fun, this is being alive, this is attractive, look at me, LOOK AT ME!

And they did. And still I felt insecure. They don't want me for me, they want me for my body. For what I could give them. So when does it stop?

Close your eyes and tell me what you see in me. See me without your eyes. Learn me, everything about me, my heart, my soul, my mind. My mind is a beautiful place, and I'll share it with you if you asked.

Would I believe you if you told me you thought I was beautiful?
Would I believe you if you never ever saw my face and you told me I was beautiful?

But sometimes, even those with sight never actually see what is right in front of them.

Preacher teaching about prayer?

Jesus loving man on the subway kept chanting over and over, "Pray to G-d, don't forget to pray, in the good times and the bad. When you need a job you say, please G-d give me a job, I promise I'll go to church. And then you get a job and you forget all about your promise. Pray to G-d, he wants to hear your voice."

This man sounded like a broken record, he just kept saying the same thing over and over again. I tried to tune him out, but then I listened for a minute, and besides for the part about "the devil giving you your paycheck, which is hell", and many mentions of Jesus in addition to G-d, it sounded lehavdil a lot like something a Jew would say.

Everything we see and hear is for a reason. I need a Christian to tell me to pray? Maybe I do.

Why I deserve an A

I got A's in all my other classes.

I'm like, really good at this.

My mom told me I'm brilliant so... that should be good enough for you. Or do you need that in writing?

If I don't get an A it will ruin my GPA. And we don't want that.

A is for awesome and I'm awesome.

Cuz you're the greatest teacher ever, and if I get an A it looks good on you.

I speak a lot in class. (I choose to see that as a good thing. But if you don't like it I'll shut up.)

Everyone else gave me A's....

So, um, what do you think?

I don't know if it's summer getting to me, but I am really lazy right now about school work. I need a break.

Someone elses shoes

My mother had a rule when we were little. No older kid was allowed to trade or borrow anything from a younger kid, because as kids generally go the younger kid will change their mind right after they say 'suuuure you can have my gameboy if you give me your roller blades.' Some people might try to teach kids about trading and values, but I guess my mother didn't want crying regretful kids on her hands.

You like my gorgeous new heels that I got on sale and only wore once and will probably never wear again? Take them! Pay me half what I paid, I only wore them once! Enjoy them!

Dun dun dun...

2 years later. I miss them. I miss my shoes. There she is. I haven't seen her in 2 years and she is wearing MY shoes. Well, technically they are not mine because I sold them to her. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Yes, I tried to find them again and they are sold out.

Do I want them so badly now that I can't have them? Would they perhaps have sat in my closet for years untouched because they 'kill my feet'?

But oy, they are so perfect.... and they are not mine......

In other worldly exciting news, my sister is engaged. Time to find a new wedding dress, yay....
(In case you are mistaken, that is a sarcastic yay conveying my annoyance and exhaustion and my wish to simply wear sweats and a t-shirt to the wedding. Guys have it so much easier. All suits look the same to me.)

Mazal tov, to many more simchas. (I'd lift my glass if I weren't so tired.)

War Paint

An hour and a half. That's how long it took to do my makeup.

Hair took an hour.

Oh to be a girl.

To be a girl getting dressed up for a wedding.

To be a girl getting dressed up for a really close friend's wedding.

Yes, I looked great, thank you for all the compliments.

There is something so sad about taking off a dress at the end of the night. The fun is over, back to work.

Wash off the makeup, take down the hairdo (I counted 40 bobby pins).

Wash out the hair spray (took me about 5 shampoos until my hair started feeling soft again.)

It is funny. We take so many pictures when we get dressed up (because it doesn't happen that often), even though we know we look great. So that later, maybe at a time when we don't feel great, we can pull out the pictures and say, wow, look when I was really hot.

Oh and the heels. My feet must hate me, but daaaaaamn girl!

Without Makeup?

"Writer Lauren Shields shunned makeup and stylish clothing and covered hair for nine months as part of a project to reject conventional beauty standards and discover her true self-worth."

As a girl who wears makeup every day, I don't think I would be able to do that. When I leave my house without makeup, my face feels exposed and naked. My eyes look blurry and tired. My lips look colorless.

 I know some guys say they want to see a girl naturally without makeup. But I don't see the fairness in that. If this is what makes me feel nice and pretty, why would you ask me to take it off so you can see the "real me"? This is the real me. Someone who cares about their appearance and wants to look and feel good every day.

It was hard to not be able to apply makeup on Tisha Baav. I hope the world forgives my smudged day old eye liner :-P

I thought this article was interesting, especially the part about this woman covering her hair. How much simpler would life be without us constantly worrying about our appearance?

It took me so much quicker to leave the house today without having to put on makeup or do my hair.

Ah, the simple life.

Blurry vision

"B, D, or is that an O... 4, J, um, I think maybe a D...?"

"How about now? Is it clearer now? This is one, and this is two. Which one is clearer? One? Or two?"

Lady, I don't know. The room is dark, my vision is blurry, and it doesn't help that you need a magnifying glass to see the letters even with normal vision. You're the doctor, aren't you supposed to tell me which one is clearer? What if I get it wrong and you mess up my prescription?

 I am now retrying contact lenses. Everything is way too sharp and bright. I have a headache.

Oh the world is a wonderful place when I can see!

Mirror Mirror

Mirror mirror on the wall...
Am I the prettiest of them all?
Look at me!
Tell me that I'm drop dead gorgeous.
Tell me that I'm hot
that I'm attractive
that I'm thin
that I'm IT.
Tell me that you love me
tell me that you like me
tell me all that I want to hear.

Oh if only we could live without mirrors...
Would you be able to go a day without looking in a mirror?

Are you self-conscious?
Do you feel good all the time?

Do you ever asked someone "Does this dress make me look fat?"
Yes. The answer is always yes.

Why do you feel fat?
Do you think you look fat, or is it all in your head?

Do you want to be thin because thin is 'in'?
Do you feel like the world is judging you?

Oh mirror mirror,
love me, be kind to me.

Ever go to the house of mirrors in an amusement park?
The skinny mirrors make you look great, and the fat mirrors make you horrified.

My mother told me I always look good.
But I don't always feel  that I look good.

If you don't feel good about yourself
there is nothing a mirror can do for you.

Try for a day to not look in every storefront glass at your reflection.
Try to feel good from the inside out without needing the world's validation.

My office is surrounded on three sides with mirrors.
Every day is look, see, this way, that, is my hair okay?

If the mirror could talk back to you, what would it say?
No, you look horrible.

Stop looking at me!!!
No seriously, you've been staring at me all day...
It's getting creepy...
Stop smiling this way and that,
Stop showing me your teeth,
Stop sucking in your stomach,
Stop giving me the power to be all and end all.
Stop letting me control your life!!!
Walk away, you're freaking me out.

So says mirrors everywhere.

Where it all began

My coworker enjoys watching court cases. He has the George Zimmerman trial playing all day.

Today they were arguing over who's voice was shouting on the call to the police on "that fateful day". Zimmerman's mother swore is was her son's voice asking for help. Trayvon Martin's mother swore it was her son's voice calling for help.

Only 3 people know what really happened that night, and one of them is dead. The other 'One' is the One who hears all, and sees all. He is the All-Knowing G-d.

And then there's the man on trial.

I wonder how it feels to sit in a courtroom and hear information that may be truths and may be lies, and to not be able to say what really happened that night.

Oh, modern law. You slay me.

Sarcastic Me

"So, are you shidduchim?"

"No, please, hold all offers, I have no interest in dating at this time in my life, I am truly enjoying being single."

"So great to see you! Hows life? Are you dating?"

"Yup. Every night a different guy. For no reason as all. Like, cuz they are lining up outside my door."

Hello world. This is my dating rant.

I hate it.

Hateithateithateit.

Like, if I could skip dating and wake up married that would be great.

So, I'll need a bottle of alcohol, and a ticket to Vegas. Who's buying?

People ask such funny questions. I really do appreciate if someone sincerely asks me what kind of guy I'm looking for so they can have me in mind. I am not bothered by the 'Im Yirtze Hashem By you' at friend's lechaims, cuz hey, I can use all the blessings I can get.

But like, "heeeey what's up!! Hows life??? Are you dating? Tell me the gossip! Like, do you have any great dating stories?"

Oh, AND:

"Don't be picky! I have a friend who was so picky and now she's 40 and still single, oy, please, just don't hold out for the perfect guy.

L. O. L.

For real.

Lady, please. Do you know any nice guys for me? Otherwise, take your advice and ****

(I will not throttle her, I will not throttle her....)

In other news, I have vacation coming up this week and still no plans. Any ideas of where to go/ anyone want to join me?

Oh summer, summer, you have barely begun and you are almost over......

Independence Day. Or: One Man Will Never Be Free Again

Let freedom ring,

let the white dove sing

Let the whole world know that today

Is a day of reckoning. 

 

Let the weak be strong,

let the right be wrong

Roll the stone away, let the guilty pay

It's Independence Day.

 

 

 I saw countless versions of the American flag being worn today by patriotic citizens. I wore a blue and white striped dress with red shoes. (Although a coworker made a point of saying that the blue and red were not the right shade so it didn't count.)

Many people have a day off from work, people have BBQ's with their families, go see fireworks, and honor the day that we became this great nation.

Edward Snowden is a wanted man. He is not a free man and may never be truly free again. He believed to be fighting for our freedom. Whether or not he did the right thing, no man should have to feel homeless and stranded at an airport with no where to go. Imagine having your passport revoked and never being able to come back to America again as a free man.

I am grateful and proud to be an American. I thank G-d every day that I was born American (as opposed to, say, a Canadian-ay).

Happy 4th of July!

Unabomber

I hate change. The Unabomber killed people because he wanted to stop technology from moving forward. Clearly it didn't work and now he is rotting in some prison for life. Probably living off of the technology that he tried to destroy.

I somehow get a new phone once everyone had already upgraded. I seem to be constantly one step behind in technology, in movies, current trends, politics, fashion, current events. And instead of rushing to keep up I just want to scream everyone stop! Stop advancing stop changing stop making new things, just let me get used to this first!

But nobody listens to me. And now there are guns made at home by 3d printers and kids who can operate ipads better than I can and as the world keeps moving into the future I just want it to stop.

I'm scared of change but I'm more afraid of being left behind.

Not the greatest combination.

Tear-Stained Hurricane

I can barely write for the wind blowing the pages everywhere,
rain making the ink run, my vision blur.

I'm frozen to this spot and can't move
the exhaustion and the chill seeping into my being.

I love the rain, the wind whipping at my hair,
but it can't stay like this.

I feel alive, crackling with energy,
my umbrella left at home today, my shoes soaking wet.

I wait, I wait until the very last minute,
And then I run for shelter.

I run, my glasses spotted,
I run, my phone getting wet.

I run like a coward,
I run away from the rain.

I run before I know what I'm running from,
and where I'm running to.

I run whether or not I know where I'm going.

What you dream about at 5 a.m.

Going through the old boxes looking for something.. something that we did not end up finding, we found so much more.

"Oh look there's me when I was little! I look so cuuuute!"

Cards from my grandmother to my mother, cards from my father to my mother, little notes saying "Went to store, be back soon, love you".

All these little scraps of paper, reports cards, old teeth (ew) old hair from upshernishes (ewwww), mementos, pictures, pictures, pictures, kids drawings saying "I love you Mommy and Abba".

We laughed as I dragged out box after box, getting dusty and dirty, breaking a nail, my eyes and nose itchy from the dust.

Cleansing. It was nice taking a memory trip, laughing, deciphering (why did we keep this old honey jar???) trying to fit everything back into the box that now seemed much smaller.

We didn't end up finding what I was looking for, but I found my answer along the way. The ending does not always matter, it is the journey that counts the most.

I found a dollar that I got from the Rebbe when I was 9 months old. It is nice to know I have one.

5 a.m. going to sleep with the birds chirping, it was a great feeling reconnecting to my past.

Where my dollar went

There's a dollar burning a hole in my pocket, just waiting to be spent.

Buy me candy. But me a donut. Buy me laffy taffys. Buy me chips.

Oh yes, this dollar is mine. I earned it rightfully.

Oh yes, I had a bad day and I deserve to use this dollar to buy me a treat.

Mineminemineminemine.

She stands there looking out of place, yet sadly very much part of the facade.

I see her around the neighborhood, walking very quietly, pushing her shopping cart.

I don't remember ever hearing her talk.

These ones, they are rude, they are pushy, they are demanding and put you in an uncomfortable situation.

But she stands there quietly and doesn't say a word.

My mother used to give her money, my mother used to buy her a sandwich, my mother used to talk to her.

My mother doesn't live here anymore. I am not my mother.

I walk by her and instead of turning into the store to pick out my treat, I drop my dollar into her empty cup.

Then I go home.

I can't say I felt so great after giving away my dollar. I definitely did not feel like I am such a great person.

We struggle with ourselves to do the right thing, and though we don't always want to or don't have the best intentions, the action counts for something.

It was a dollar well spent.

My Bubby and Zaidy

Pistachios, and old pictures projected on the wall.

A blanket for my dolls.

Arthur, The Berenstain Bears, Clifford, books.

Uncle Paul.

Hearing aids.

Skirts.

Quiet house, carpeted, big deck, small slices of cake.

Walks in the mall. Scarves.

Sewing blankets for sick kids.

Kosher food.

Hanuka cards.

Birthday cards, gifts, and money for toys.

School, college, college grad, law school, Board of Ed.

Money, money, money.

Laugh, wrinkled skin, beige car, glasses.

Sewing.

Boston cream pie.

Stuffed cabbage shared.

Beach, knitting needles, museums.

Old house, new condo.

Old people, healthy people.

Graduations.

Matza.

Florida.

Great-grandmother, grandmother, mother.

Mom, Dad.

Awkward hug.

Goodbye, goodbye, Farewell.

SuMmeR

I feel like I've been here before, this sticky, sweltering, pounding heat-induced headache, Deja Vu.

I run through the sprinklers getting soaked.

I watch you watching me, wishing I had a beach bod like yours.

Teenagers meet and fall in love, leave beaus behind.

Summer ends in heartbreak.

Teens are dumb.

Should have listened when mama told you to stay away.

Sunlight permeates the body.

Vitamin D comes in capsules. Save yourselves the trouble of skin cancer.

People are less depressed during summer.

People from California are labeled as beach bums, dumb blondes, fakers, backstabbers, barbie dolls.

They get more sunlight. They are also on more anti-depressants.

Prisoners on death row wear suicide smocks, single pieces of material to prevent them from hanging themselves. The State wants to do the honors.

A prisoner on death row who swallows a blade is rushed to the hospital so doctors can fix them so they can soon be killed.

Why do we say "I love how you think you know what's best for me", when we really mean we hate that?

I can smell the salty nasal spray and feel it going up my septum, entering my throat. They told me it would help me breath better. It didn't. It just smelled bad.

They blot the pizza with napkins and say "look how oily it is!". But that's what pizza is, oily cheese.

I learned to swim in the ocean, floating on my back not realizing how far out I was, talking out loud practicing how to tell my father that I could swim.

Now they swim in kiddy pools with little arm floats.

In camp I had a whole kiddy pool to myself. Maybe I didn't have friends. But with a whole empty pool, who cares.

A great southern chef calls a man the 'N' word and suddenly her career is over.

Eating too much butter can kill a person.

Laying off the butter may kill you too.

People who commit suicide cannot donate their bodies to science.

Scientist should research why people kill themselves instead of looking for that elusive cure for cancer.

I bought shoes that contribute to the cause for breast cancer.

I am not a feminist, but I am a woman.

I should support the breast cancer awareness society.

I don't support many causes. 

Boy meets girl. Boy falls in love with girl. Girl scorns boy.

Summer heat makes people do dumb things.

Crush the ice, douse it in Sangria, and drink up.

Half Truths

I hate funerals, a shiny black coffin with an open lid and a dead guy inside. They say we live above sea level or below sea level and I never knew what that meant except I imagined people drowning below the water. They put coffee in the doughnut, they don't know that I don't drink coffee, that I feel guilty eating donuts, and now I can't have either. Some owners look just like their pets and I wonder if they bought pets that looked like them, or if they changed over time and morphed into their pets.

These deep grooves in my skin, these scars reflect the pain of love, of life, the grooves and marks on my soul. Get out of the left lane you idiot, get off the road, people beeping and honking and I'm all out of gear, out of whack, take me home. The porch light burnt out and we stand outside watching fireflies light up wondering how they don't get burned, they surround the dark light. As it was, as it were, how things used to be- these are guilt trips, but I say the past is in the past and that's where it is supposed to be.

To learn the value of money, spend your own money on stuff and stop hitting me up for more. They pull her out of the rubble half burnt half dead barely alive maybe not alive at all, safety crews just doing their job. Damn this chair is crooked and it's gonna tip over, damn you for not reading the printed instructions, damn you and your stupid ego. The truth is for strong people, if you can't handle the truth then leave now and stop wasting my time. I say 'sometimes' a lot when I really mean all the time, or never, depending on who I'm lying to. Blink, and it's over, the good times and the bad.

Old habits die hard

We find ourselves at it again,
And again,
Unable to break the pattern,
Unable to stop ourselves
From having that just one more,
From doing that thing we said we'd never do,
From going back to places we left behind.

 We watch hamsters in their cages running wheels to nowhere
And we laugh at how silly they are,
How dumb that they just keep running,
And they never go anywhere.
Yet we put ourselves in cages,
And we do the same thing,
Stupid Humans, do you never learn?

The thing that used to satisfy me
Now leaves a dull ache,
A hunger that does not go away.
Words that used to make my heart beat fast
Now sound routine and rehearsed,
I've heard it all before,
It doesn't make me feel good,

Or bad,
I feel nothing.
And the nothing that I feel
Should make me break the habit,
Yet here I am, at it again.
Oh when will you learn, Dumb Human?
Maybe never.

Bone tired and still we have time to come back to this place,
This place, how shall I describe it?
Once upon a time, I wanted to be here,
And never leave,
But now, I never want to go back there,
Yet here I am.
Waiting for that old feeling, That never comes.

Stupid humans,
Stupid humans,
You never learn.

One Thousand Fireflies

Today is the first day of Summer.

I can smell it.

The other night I saw a firefly. They remind me of summer, and youth.

This is my one thousand and two (1002) post.

I made cupcakes:

I am taking a poetry writing course this summer. I feel like my blog is lacking because I am focusing on in-class writing and assignments. I do not really like being told what to write. I just like doing my own thing. That is what my blog is about. I let it take me wherever it may go.

I will keep blogging as long as I still feel the need.

"You're gonna miss me when I'm gone".

Have a good Shabbos