Why did the chicken cross the road?

(From the perspective of the chicken)

These damn humans question it all the time. Shut up stupid humans and stay out of my business. Do I ask you, “Why do humans bark like dogs? Why do humans touch their lips to another human's lips? Like, ew. Humans, stop face-sucking other humans.

I crossed the road because- none of your damn business!!! Stop asking what you call the “Age-old question”, or the next question will be, “Why did the chicken shoot the human?”

Bam. Now you can't ask THE QUESTION ever again.

Happy chicken.

_______________________________________________________________

(From reporters perspective)

“In other news, the chicken has finally fought back, in what can only be described as a mental chicken breakdown. As you can see behind me, a crowd has gathered here to watch the chicken, who seems to have finally snapped. Chicken squawks of “death to humans” can be heard, as millions of chickens come out in support of their brother. The question of “Why did the chicken cross the road?” has been asked by humans everywhere, since the beginning of time. Humans just want answers. The chicken wants, in his own words, “To shut humans up.” The chicken has been taken into custody for threatening a human with an illegally obtained gun. We will be closely following this story as it unfolds. Stay tuned for the follow up story of the chicken's arrest and arraignment. I am Chayanne McFarlin, ABC News.

I HATE YOU GMAIL!

After an already crappy horrible day, now gmail is making the new pop-up 'compose window' the default, and you can no longer switch back to the old method. Did I mention I hate change? I hate it! No, I will not get used to it. I'm mad. For a free service, gmail sure is trying to 'improve' a lot. Just leave it the way it is and every is happy.

"Temporarily switch back to the old view."

"Temporarily switch back to the old view."

"Temporarily switch back to the old view."

"Temporarily switch back to the old view."

"Temporarily switch back to the old view."

"Temporarily switch back to the old view."

Switch it back!!

Think about it. What if your cleaning lady/live-in maid/mom/picker-upper-person took your favorite comfortable old ratty t-shirt and through it out cuz hey, you can get something newer and better. But you LOVED that t-shirt!

Maybe not the greatest comparison, but people like what is familiar and comfortable.

Oh, change is good, you say?

No it's not!!!

"Temporarily switch back to the old view."

"Temporarily switch back to the old view."

"Temporarily switch back to the old view."

"Temporarily switch back to the old view."

"Temporarily switch back to the old view."

I. Hate. You. Gmail.

Die. 

Night-time candy run

"Do you speak Hebrew?" he asks me.

"A little", I respond, thinking, please sir just give me my laffy taffys. My mother's voice is talking in my ear and I have no idea what she is saying. Something about a dress for the wedding...sea-foam green...?

"Yaldah yafa me'od', he says, dangling the laffy taffys in his fingers, and I just want him to put them on the counter so I don't have to take them from his hands. "Yaldah yafa me'od" he repeats, and as I get a creeping feeling in my stomach I try to understand if he is saying a very nice girl or a very pretty girl, and then I wonder why it matters. I realize it is dark out and the store is empty and the man behind the counter is staring at me and asking me what my name is. I give him an awkward thumbs up and thank him for the items that I just paid him for and hastily leave the store, wondering why something that is meant to sound nice gives me a sickening feeling in my stomach, and if there was something I did to signal to him that I was interested, or if I am way overreacting.

In the safety of my room I stare at the laffy taffys and wonder why I even wanted them that badly.

The Price of Silence

"It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt." -Attributed to Mark Twain.

I know, I know I shouldn't respond, but I want to so badly. I want to put someone in their place for once, knock that cocky smile off their face, show them up, say my piece and be done with it. The problem with people is, you can't control them. If I say one comment they must respond. So when will it ever end? "I know you're stupid but what am I?" Oh ya, great comeback.

I was never very good at comebacks. In high school I tried verbal sparring with a classmate and she won every time. You have to be quick, and I'm just not able to be quick and witty at the same time. She tried to teach me, but every time I would retort I sounded like a mad idiot with nothing good to say. In my world, I would say my brilliant response, and people would be speechless as I walk away.

In reality, they respond and it makes me go grrrrrr just shut up already, I want the last word! But people don't shut up. So you must control yourself and NOT say that great comment you thought in your head, unless you are ready for the repercussions.

When to tell someone "you suck!"

Why must I go through this torture? They make me read this junk and I have to critique it and say nice things but all I want to say it you suck! This is junk you should never write you will never be a writer this is generic, it is stupid, it makes no sense, how can you call this writing??? It has horrible spelling, grammatical errors, confusing sentence structure.

But then I think, what if someone said that to me? Would it crush my dreams of ever being a writer? What if I was really a horrible writer and I needed someone to awaken me to that?

I know I shouldn't be mean but it is so hard to not be harsh and blunt when I am suffering through every word of what could barely be called writing.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Sick Leave

 
We used to have a sign in my office that said, "I used up all my sick days, so I called in dead." It has since disappeared from the office. I guess that excuse just doesn't fly with my company. Dead or alive, it doesn't matter to us. Come in to work anyway.

I believe the era for "calling in sick" is long gone. I woke up with a bad cold to I texted in sick. How can you convince them in a text that you are sick, without coughing on the phone, making your voice sound hoarser than it is, unable to say your d's or n's properly cuz your nose is stuffed?

Text: "Hey boss, I woke up dizzy and with a really bad cold, I'm not coming today".
What I really mean is: "There's this amaaaaaaazing sale at the mall and I just haaaaaaave to go!".

Boss: "Okay, feel better".
What he really means is: "Liar. We know you are not sick, you don't even sound sick in text."

Well, convincing or not, I was sick. Still sick. Summer cold, I guess. No, really, I am. I even brought my cold medicine to display on my desk today so everyone knows that I am really sick and not faking it. And the medicine tastes disgusting, no way I would fake that.

The worst part about recuperating from a cold is getting my sense of smell back on garbage day.

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.