"Did you go trick-or-treating tonight?"
I look around in confusion. Who is she talking to? She repeats the question again, looking at me.
"Did you go trick-or-treating tonight?"
I say "hahaha, no, I'm actually coming from-"
She points to my red tote bag, which is holding my books from school. Says, "I thought, wow that's a lot of candy."
I smile and ask them how their trick-or-treating is going, did they get a lot of candy, I comment on their costumes and say how cute. I wish them luck in their candy gathering and tell them that I saw a lot of litter on the subway from candy wrappers. We wish each other a good night and part ways.
If I went trick-or-treating would I egg them if no treats appeared? Would I go from door to door and use that opportunity to tout my religion? In exchange for a treat, tell them about G-d?
I'd say, the real treat would be if we could all stop fighting, and live in peace and harmony.
I'd say, Obama's just a name and in a few years he will move out of the White House, and won't you just feel foolish for saying such nasty baseless things about him.
I'd say all these heartless murders are killing us, and there is an autistic child that went missing a few weeks ago, and we may never see him again. I see his picture everywhere and I wonder if he is lost somewhere in the subway tunnels where no one will find him. I think about his parents waiting at home for a call, to hear news good or bad and all they want is for their child to come home. And that little boy is not going trick-or-treating tonight.
I'd say we are separated by race and religion, by political standing and allegiances to teams that play games that mean nothing at all. Sports that waste millions of dollars yearly so fans can stand 3 deep at a bar and scream at the television screen, as if they could decide the fate of other humans. But you and I we share this world, we share the air we breath. We are all humans, people just trying to live our lives.
I'd say wouldn't it be nice to turn on the news for once and not hear about people dying, prisoners escaping, government officials being arrested for corruption, missiles falling in Syria and people pointing fingers and always trying to place the blame on anyone else.
I'd say aren't you scared to let your child leave the house dressed in a costume or a mask, looking like all the other bedecked children tonight and approach a stranger's house, many strangers' houses and ask for candy, are you not afraid for your child's safety.
If I went trick-or-treating I'd give out candy to all the kids, even the ones who came back for seconds, knowing that maybe their moms or dads are too poor to buy candy and tonight they want to feel just like everyone else. I'd make sure that they throw their wrappers in the garbage and not litter them on the subway floors and benches, because after all, that may be someone's bed tonight.
I think of all the people coming in contact with each other, strangers with flitting passing interactions, they laugh and talk and are emboldened by their disguises. They swarm the streets and subway cars in groups, hoping to get lucky tonight. Tomorrow will be back to school and work, if they wore a mask tomorrow they may get arrested for suspicious activity, we are taught to be scared of people in masks and hoods and disguises, but tonight, they blend right in.
Think of how much each person has to share with the world, if everyone dropped advice into these brightly colored trick-or-treating baskets instead of the poison we call candy, the poison that dentists love and parents hate, the poison that guilts people every day into dieting, if we forgo that poison for snippets of love and goodwill we may all be that much healthier and wiser.
I walked by a store tonight that had a sign in the window that announced "NO candy, only stickers", and I wondered which child was dumb enough to enter just to get a sticker, when everyone else was offering free candy.
If I went trick-or-treating I would say, "Sorry, NO candy, but I do have advice, I have life experience, I have insights and opinions, I have a unique outlook on life that is sure to be different than yours, I have happiness and sadness and stories, and love, I have inspiration that is sure to last way longer than that piece of candy that you stuffed in your mouth, or the one you left behind on the subway, deeming it unfit for your possession.
If I went trick-or-treating I would neither trick nor treat, I would not dress up in disguise. I would go out as myself, with all my flaws and all my attributes, I would share what only I can give and show people what they have been missing.
I would be ME, and hope that the world accepts me for who I am.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
The Giraffe Challenge
One friend changes her profile picture to a giraffe, and I think "huh".
Two friends: Okay, what's up with this?
After a little digging, this is what I found:
There is a riddle going around Facebook. If you get the answer right, nothing happens. If you get the answer wrong, you must change your profile picture to a giraffe for 3 days.
The riddle goes like this: "3:00 am, the doorbell rings and you wake up. Unexpected visitors, It's your parents and they are there for breakfast. You have strawberry jam, honey, wine, bread and cheese. What is the first thing you open?"
Really, my opinion of humanity is falling lower and lower.
If you feel like trying to solve the riddle, try your hand at the challenge here: http://thegreatgiraffechallenge.com/.
In the end, it really just comes down to: Do we have time for all this stupidity?
Two friends: Okay, what's up with this?
After a little digging, this is what I found:
There is a riddle going around Facebook. If you get the answer right, nothing happens. If you get the answer wrong, you must change your profile picture to a giraffe for 3 days.
The riddle goes like this: "3:00 am, the doorbell rings and you wake up. Unexpected visitors, It's your parents and they are there for breakfast. You have strawberry jam, honey, wine, bread and cheese. What is the first thing you open?"
Really, my opinion of humanity is falling lower and lower.
If you feel like trying to solve the riddle, try your hand at the challenge here: http://thegreatgiraffechallenge.com/.
In the end, it really just comes down to: Do we have time for all this stupidity?
Thursday, October 24, 2013
We Fought
In winter we fought, we fought in
summer, and spring. Throughout the years we fought. We fought by
parties and by weddings, we fought in company and alone. We fought on
the phone and in parks, in restaurants and in malls. We fought over a
$50 bill in the ocean, we fought over spots at the table, we fought
for attention. We fought over shoes, and toys, we fought over books
and computer time. We fought over looks, we fought with words, we
fought with knives. You left and we fought, I came back and we
fought, we fought over cars, and boys, we fought in old houses and
new ones. We fought on buses, we fought in different cities, we
fought when we were together, we fought less when we were apart. We
fought over food, and jobs. In frizzy hair we fought, sleek and
straight we fought. We fought in school and at home, we fought over
rooms and beds, we fought with names, we fought with chairs. We
fought over remotes, we fought over clothes, we fought with faces and
gestures. You left me at home and we fought. They made you take me
with you and we fought. We fought over friends, we fought over makeup and perfume.
We fought sadness, we fought pain. We
fought insecurities, we fought weight, we fought ugly, we fought
titles, we fought mean names. We fought ourselves. We fought
the haters, we fought the enemies, we fought the losers and the
weirdos, we fought the intrusions, we fought the uproots, we fought
change, we fought life, we fought depression, we fought school, we
fought society.
We fought, we fought, we fought.
You fought and I didn't know. You smiled
and you fought, you gave presents and you fought, you shopped and you
fought, you ate and you fought. You went on trips and you fought. You
fought in the house and outside. You fought in company and alone. You
fought and no one knew.
You fought and for once we didn't fight.
Unsettled
Freeze.
You know you should say something but you can't make any words come out of your mouth.
So you sit in silence, and the seconds stretch.
You know the person on the other end of the line will say "are you still there?".
You have a choice, to pretend that you got cut off and to hang up the phone.
Which won't undo anything nor unsay what was said.
Or you could react.
So you say, "I don't really know what to say".
And that is all. That is how you feel. You know it doesn't involve you, it doesn't much affect you, life will move on and things will keep changing and spinning and happening on their own.
No one is waiting for your big reaction, no one is asking you to be dramatic or emotional or say what you feel, cuz really, it's not about you.
You want to just say, "uhu okay that's nice, thanks, bye" and hang up.
You want to rehash what was said over and over again until you understand it, and give your opinion on it, and make sense of it, and try to change it.
Change it. Undo it. Make it like it never happened. If we could turn back the clocks, would that make things right?
But no one is asking you, nobody cares what you have to say.
And it doesn't matter really, does it.
Usually, you can describe how you are feeling. But sometimes, there is really nothing to say.
You kind of feel nothing at all. And that makes you feel weird.
How can one describe nothing?
Devoid.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
I feel nothing.
And what does that say about me, really?
You know you should say something but you can't make any words come out of your mouth.
So you sit in silence, and the seconds stretch.
You know the person on the other end of the line will say "are you still there?".
You have a choice, to pretend that you got cut off and to hang up the phone.
Which won't undo anything nor unsay what was said.
Or you could react.
So you say, "I don't really know what to say".
And that is all. That is how you feel. You know it doesn't involve you, it doesn't much affect you, life will move on and things will keep changing and spinning and happening on their own.
No one is waiting for your big reaction, no one is asking you to be dramatic or emotional or say what you feel, cuz really, it's not about you.
You want to just say, "uhu okay that's nice, thanks, bye" and hang up.
You want to rehash what was said over and over again until you understand it, and give your opinion on it, and make sense of it, and try to change it.
Change it. Undo it. Make it like it never happened. If we could turn back the clocks, would that make things right?
But no one is asking you, nobody cares what you have to say.
And it doesn't matter really, does it.
Usually, you can describe how you are feeling. But sometimes, there is really nothing to say.
You kind of feel nothing at all. And that makes you feel weird.
How can one describe nothing?
Devoid.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
I feel nothing.
And what does that say about me, really?
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Forced Company
Friday afternoon, I still did not have a place to eat for the Friday night meal. My mother said, 'go to your brother!', but I go to him way too often, and I found out that he had gone away for Shabbos. My friend invited me to go with her to some post-sem single girls meal, and I was reluctant, thinking it would be awkward, and that I would not have anything in common with these girls other than that we were all single. I didn't enjoy the thought of being lumped into a group simply because we all shared the same 'single' status. Why don't they make a group for artists, or writers, or people who share the same interests? My whole life does not revolve around my singlehood, nor does it define me.
After expressing my opinion and discomfort at the thought of this meal, I reluctantly agreed to go, because my friend is rarely ever in town, it would be nice to spend time with her, and well, why not.
We went to shul first, which was nice, and the lady in charge made me feel welcome. She is also my high school principal's mother, they look so much alike, and she brought back warm memories. After shul, we relocated to the room where the meal would take place, and then I started to get nervous. There were so many more girls than I expected, my friend and I could not find two seats next to each other, she was not agreeable with my idea that we ask two girls to move over so we could sit together, so I grumbled about sitting by myself next to strangers, and thought about going home, to my familiar warm apartment with no awkward social gatherings.
Then the meal started, and the girl next to me started talking to me, and I surprisingly had a very pleasant time. She was refreshing, similar to me in some ways, and we found what to talk about. Throughout the meal the girls sang songs, and my new friend and I sang a different song than everyone else, because we both just liked that song better. I helped serve food, and clear the table, I saw familiar faces of girls I met before, and I told the friend I had come with that it was okay that she abandoned me because I made a new best friend. She insisted that she did not abandon me.
The meal was arranged by a program that is geared towards post-sem single girls, and they want Friday night meals to be a regular thing, maybe once a month. The woman in charge said they are in the process of building a lounge, they envision it to be a place for girls to come and hang out, learn with each other, or just have fun. They also want to have programs, melava malkas, and other activities.
While the idea does sound very nice, and it is great that someone is taking charge and filling a need in the community, the thought of being part of a 'singles club' does still make me uncomfortable, mostly because I'd rather not be a part of it for logistical reasons. And also, joining feels like if I label myself as a 'post-sem single girl', that is what I will be forever. Silly, I know. But then, fears usually are baseless.
I didn't expect to have a nice time, and I did. And that is rare. So thank you to said friend for bringing me along.
After expressing my opinion and discomfort at the thought of this meal, I reluctantly agreed to go, because my friend is rarely ever in town, it would be nice to spend time with her, and well, why not.
We went to shul first, which was nice, and the lady in charge made me feel welcome. She is also my high school principal's mother, they look so much alike, and she brought back warm memories. After shul, we relocated to the room where the meal would take place, and then I started to get nervous. There were so many more girls than I expected, my friend and I could not find two seats next to each other, she was not agreeable with my idea that we ask two girls to move over so we could sit together, so I grumbled about sitting by myself next to strangers, and thought about going home, to my familiar warm apartment with no awkward social gatherings.
Then the meal started, and the girl next to me started talking to me, and I surprisingly had a very pleasant time. She was refreshing, similar to me in some ways, and we found what to talk about. Throughout the meal the girls sang songs, and my new friend and I sang a different song than everyone else, because we both just liked that song better. I helped serve food, and clear the table, I saw familiar faces of girls I met before, and I told the friend I had come with that it was okay that she abandoned me because I made a new best friend. She insisted that she did not abandon me.
The meal was arranged by a program that is geared towards post-sem single girls, and they want Friday night meals to be a regular thing, maybe once a month. The woman in charge said they are in the process of building a lounge, they envision it to be a place for girls to come and hang out, learn with each other, or just have fun. They also want to have programs, melava malkas, and other activities.
While the idea does sound very nice, and it is great that someone is taking charge and filling a need in the community, the thought of being part of a 'singles club' does still make me uncomfortable, mostly because I'd rather not be a part of it for logistical reasons. And also, joining feels like if I label myself as a 'post-sem single girl', that is what I will be forever. Silly, I know. But then, fears usually are baseless.
I didn't expect to have a nice time, and I did. And that is rare. So thank you to said friend for bringing me along.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Despicable Me
I hated those people, the manipulative ones, the ones who try to get there way 'just cuz', who push others out of the way and say things like, 'I don't really need it, I just want to stick it to them'. It makes me cringe.
I hate those people, the ones who call me 'liar' on the phone when I am just trying to do my job, and accuse me of trying to screw them over, and threaten lots of things if they don't get what they want.
I hate those people, the ones who refuse to pay for a service because one little thing was messed up, and I just keep thinking how dishonest that is, and it bothers me.
And yet I understand them, the hapless helpless feeling of what now? I trust someone, I trusted you to come through and you didn't and now what am I supposed to do about it?
So I basically called them a liar, and threatened them, and told them "I know what I'm talking about, so don't try to pull the wool over my eyes".
And then they came through in the end. And more than that, they offered me compensation to better 'satisfy' me. Now I feel ashamed, like how could I have stooped so low and become those people I hate?
I hate those people, the ones who call me 'liar' on the phone when I am just trying to do my job, and accuse me of trying to screw them over, and threaten lots of things if they don't get what they want.
I hate those people, the ones who refuse to pay for a service because one little thing was messed up, and I just keep thinking how dishonest that is, and it bothers me.
And yet I understand them, the hapless helpless feeling of what now? I trust someone, I trusted you to come through and you didn't and now what am I supposed to do about it?
So I basically called them a liar, and threatened them, and told them "I know what I'm talking about, so don't try to pull the wool over my eyes".
And then they came through in the end. And more than that, they offered me compensation to better 'satisfy' me. Now I feel ashamed, like how could I have stooped so low and become those people I hate?
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Wake up on a Saturday night
It's Saturday night and to some people that means putting on their best glitz or glam outfit, lots of makeup, and going out on the town, trying to meet people, mix and mingle, find something to do, go where it's 'happening'.
It's 7:30 and I have nothing to do. No, I have an essay to write but I don't want to. I don't have school tomorrow so I should be out there with the best of them, doing something, anything but laying here bored out of my mind.
I don't have any good books to read. I don't have any movies I feel like watching. I think of getting dressed and going out, but then it's 10:00 and I haven't done anything and now it's too late.
And still I sit here, laptop sleeping, music playing on the radio, and I feel bored. Restless. I want to do something but have nothing to do.
I think the correct term would be 'Bla'. As per thefreedictionary.com: blahs A general feeling of discomfort, dissatisfaction, or depression.
Okay, so I decide to draw. And I can't think of what to draw so I draw charcoal people that don't really look like people but kind of do. I think of psychologists and how they have young kids draw pictures because they can't accurately express their feelings. And I look at my charcoal sort-of people and think about what I'm trying to say.
Then I lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling. Then I call my mom. Then I hear her talk for ten minutes about a foreign film she saw with my father that she liked, it was in French with English subtitles, and she thought I would like it. I tune her out and think, sometimes you don't even hear what they are saying, it is just nice to hear their voice.
Then I hang up with her and think about watching a French movie with English subtitles, and think about getting dressed up and going out, and think about having someone to go out and do something with, and think about all the people currently out and having fun, or pretending to have fun, or having a horrible time but not wanting to go home because then their life would be really sad and depressing, so they go out and pretend to be full of life and exciting like everyone else but really being boring and depressing and wanting to go home, and thinking about how nice it is that I can stay home and not feel like I'm missing out on some big party scene, and then I listen to a Hilary Duff song that I heard on the radio years ago when I wasn't supposed to listen to the radio but I did so secretly until my sister caught me and told my mother, but now I can do whatever I want and the song is about going out on a Saturday night and I wonder if she actually wants to go out on a Saturday night or maybe they just told her that is what she has to sing about so she did what she had to for her career.
So I listen to it about 7 or 8 times and then write the world's longest run-on sentence just for fun.
Time to go to sleep. Happy Sunday.
It's 7:30 and I have nothing to do. No, I have an essay to write but I don't want to. I don't have school tomorrow so I should be out there with the best of them, doing something, anything but laying here bored out of my mind.
I don't have any good books to read. I don't have any movies I feel like watching. I think of getting dressed and going out, but then it's 10:00 and I haven't done anything and now it's too late.
And still I sit here, laptop sleeping, music playing on the radio, and I feel bored. Restless. I want to do something but have nothing to do.
I think the correct term would be 'Bla'. As per thefreedictionary.com: blahs A general feeling of discomfort, dissatisfaction, or depression.
Okay, so I decide to draw. And I can't think of what to draw so I draw charcoal people that don't really look like people but kind of do. I think of psychologists and how they have young kids draw pictures because they can't accurately express their feelings. And I look at my charcoal sort-of people and think about what I'm trying to say.
Then I lay on my bed and stare at the ceiling. Then I call my mom. Then I hear her talk for ten minutes about a foreign film she saw with my father that she liked, it was in French with English subtitles, and she thought I would like it. I tune her out and think, sometimes you don't even hear what they are saying, it is just nice to hear their voice.
Then I hang up with her and think about watching a French movie with English subtitles, and think about getting dressed up and going out, and think about having someone to go out and do something with, and think about all the people currently out and having fun, or pretending to have fun, or having a horrible time but not wanting to go home because then their life would be really sad and depressing, so they go out and pretend to be full of life and exciting like everyone else but really being boring and depressing and wanting to go home, and thinking about how nice it is that I can stay home and not feel like I'm missing out on some big party scene, and then I listen to a Hilary Duff song that I heard on the radio years ago when I wasn't supposed to listen to the radio but I did so secretly until my sister caught me and told my mother, but now I can do whatever I want and the song is about going out on a Saturday night and I wonder if she actually wants to go out on a Saturday night or maybe they just told her that is what she has to sing about so she did what she had to for her career.
So I listen to it about 7 or 8 times and then write the world's longest run-on sentence just for fun.
Time to go to sleep. Happy Sunday.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Dreams
Did you ever wake up from a dream ad have that feeling that something good happened, but you can't remember it?
And then you do, it is a warm fuzzy memory from dreamland, an occurrence that never really happened, and yet you remember it as if it did.
You play it over and over in your mind, wishing you could go back to sleep and return to that dream, hit play and see what will happen next. But alas, we have no control in dreamland.
You replay the details again and again, bothering it like a loose tooth, until you are not even sure what you dreamed.
After many times of thinking about it, it begins to fade, until the warm fuzzy feeling goes away, and you realize that it was only just a dream.
But you want so badly for it to be real.
And then you do, it is a warm fuzzy memory from dreamland, an occurrence that never really happened, and yet you remember it as if it did.
You play it over and over in your mind, wishing you could go back to sleep and return to that dream, hit play and see what will happen next. But alas, we have no control in dreamland.
You replay the details again and again, bothering it like a loose tooth, until you are not even sure what you dreamed.
After many times of thinking about it, it begins to fade, until the warm fuzzy feeling goes away, and you realize that it was only just a dream.
But you want so badly for it to be real.
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Worldly Experience
There was a guy who declined to date me for the reason being that he didn't think I was 'worldly' enough. He has since married a girl from South Africa. I guess living in another country could make one 'worldly'.
What does being worldly even mean? Does it mean you have to travel to many countries, be cultural, know current events, be involved in politics? Does it mean anything or is it just a pretty way of saying nothing?
A person can have a more extensive life experience staying in one city his whole life, than someone who has traveled the whole globe. Experience comes from what you know, how you perceive the world, how you think, how you act upon what you know.
People have book smarts and people have street smarts and people have no smarts at all.
What makes one a worldly person?
What does being worldly even mean? Does it mean you have to travel to many countries, be cultural, know current events, be involved in politics? Does it mean anything or is it just a pretty way of saying nothing?
A person can have a more extensive life experience staying in one city his whole life, than someone who has traveled the whole globe. Experience comes from what you know, how you perceive the world, how you think, how you act upon what you know.
People have book smarts and people have street smarts and people have no smarts at all.
What makes one a worldly person?
Sunday, October 6, 2013
The B---- who stole my day
I don't hate all people, just some people. And the some people that I hate, it is usually because they don't respond to me in the way I had expected them to. And I don't adapt very easily.
Building on my last post, the girl who I will now forever remember as "The B---- who stole my day", is at it again.
I emailed her being that not only did she hand in her story on my day but to top it off she didn't even print out enough copies. So I messaged her to say, in the nicest way, "hey B----- who stole my day, please send me your story. Oh, and by the way, not cool what you did."
In my exact words:
"It seems there was some confusion, as you switched your workshop date with mine without letting me know, being that I missed two classes. I stayed up late finishing my story only to find out that it is now due in three weeks. As you can imagine, that was a bit distressing for me. There is nothing you can do about it now, but it would have been nice if you tried to get in contact with me, send me an email or ask the professor to let me know ahead of time. I would have had no problem switching with you and having extra time to work on my story, had you asked me. In general, that is the decent thing to do."
Me thinking that she would be all nice and apologetic and I would be all forgiving, like oh don't worry about it.
Her response:
"I'm sorry that you felt rushed without the knowledge that you didn't have to have your piece ready, but I can assure you that I had no idea that there was anything to inform you about.
I had an issue with my workshop date and asked the professor if she could switch my date and she told me that she would be more than happy to bump up my date earlier. At no point did she tell me that I would be swapping dates with you or that I should inform you about it. I was under the impression I was being moved into a free slot. I would think it would be the responsibility of the professor to inform her students of a swap or at least provide one student with the other's contact info.
The decent thing to do would be to not make assumptions about a situation because, like you stated, you were absent and therefore weren't there when this happened. "
(When I told the professor, she said she had assumed that this girl had worked it out with me. There is way too much assuming going on.)
Thanks, B-----.
I noticed she was wearing a magen david necklace. Now I feel like saying, hey while I was out celebrating our holiday, where were you??
I so want to tell her that her story sucks, but she would probably just find a way to turn it around on me. And the worst part it, based on the first few sentences, she is a decent writer. Which makes me hate her even more.
Now do you understand?
Building on my last post, the girl who I will now forever remember as "The B---- who stole my day", is at it again.
I emailed her being that not only did she hand in her story on my day but to top it off she didn't even print out enough copies. So I messaged her to say, in the nicest way, "hey B----- who stole my day, please send me your story. Oh, and by the way, not cool what you did."
In my exact words:
"It seems there was some confusion, as you switched your workshop date with mine without letting me know, being that I missed two classes. I stayed up late finishing my story only to find out that it is now due in three weeks. As you can imagine, that was a bit distressing for me. There is nothing you can do about it now, but it would have been nice if you tried to get in contact with me, send me an email or ask the professor to let me know ahead of time. I would have had no problem switching with you and having extra time to work on my story, had you asked me. In general, that is the decent thing to do."
Me thinking that she would be all nice and apologetic and I would be all forgiving, like oh don't worry about it.
Her response:
"I'm sorry that you felt rushed without the knowledge that you didn't have to have your piece ready, but I can assure you that I had no idea that there was anything to inform you about.
I had an issue with my workshop date and asked the professor if she could switch my date and she told me that she would be more than happy to bump up my date earlier. At no point did she tell me that I would be swapping dates with you or that I should inform you about it. I was under the impression I was being moved into a free slot. I would think it would be the responsibility of the professor to inform her students of a swap or at least provide one student with the other's contact info.
The decent thing to do would be to not make assumptions about a situation because, like you stated, you were absent and therefore weren't there when this happened. "
(When I told the professor, she said she had assumed that this girl had worked it out with me. There is way too much assuming going on.)
Thanks, B-----.
I noticed she was wearing a magen david necklace. Now I feel like saying, hey while I was out celebrating our holiday, where were you??
I so want to tell her that her story sucks, but she would probably just find a way to turn it around on me. And the worst part it, based on the first few sentences, she is a decent writer. Which makes me hate her even more.
Now do you understand?
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Fiction writing
I'm taking a fiction writing course at school. I wanted to see if it is something I would be interested in.
I learned that it is not. I decided that I either have no imagination or it is somewhere in there so deep that I can't find it.
Every time I sit down to write a story, I second guess myself. Is it stupid, will anyone like it? Didn't I just read a book with the exact same storyline?
Every idea I come up with seems too cliche, done before, tired, or from a book I just read. Or I stress and think, will it suck, will people hate it?
I get myself so worked up that I can't even write the first line. My mother told me that I am thinking too much, that I should just start writing and forget about all that stuff. I told her that I may need something to 'relax' me first, so she told me to have a drink. (Yes, my mother suggested that I drink.)
So I stressed and stressed and managed to write a story that seems decent enough, and it was due today because each student has a scheduled day that they have to hand in their story to be workshopped. At 2 am I finished, and I went to check the list of students to see how many copies I needed to print.
Then I realized that my name was moved to the 24th. So basically, no one told me that I was switched. I missed 2 classes because of Sukkos. My teacher replied and said that a girl asked to switch with me because she would not be there on the day hers is due. My teacher just assumed that she had asked me so the switch was made without telling me. In her words, "we've made changes. People joined the class, things evolved." Thanks lady. While things were 'evolving', I was celebrating my holiday.
My story is done a few weeks early. But that will just give me extra time to stress about it, revise it, scrap it, hate it, love it, all or none of the above.
If you are interested in reading the story, feel free to email me. I chose not to post it here because this is not a fiction blog.
I learned that it is not. I decided that I either have no imagination or it is somewhere in there so deep that I can't find it.
Every time I sit down to write a story, I second guess myself. Is it stupid, will anyone like it? Didn't I just read a book with the exact same storyline?
Every idea I come up with seems too cliche, done before, tired, or from a book I just read. Or I stress and think, will it suck, will people hate it?
I get myself so worked up that I can't even write the first line. My mother told me that I am thinking too much, that I should just start writing and forget about all that stuff. I told her that I may need something to 'relax' me first, so she told me to have a drink. (Yes, my mother suggested that I drink.)
So I stressed and stressed and managed to write a story that seems decent enough, and it was due today because each student has a scheduled day that they have to hand in their story to be workshopped. At 2 am I finished, and I went to check the list of students to see how many copies I needed to print.
Then I realized that my name was moved to the 24th. So basically, no one told me that I was switched. I missed 2 classes because of Sukkos. My teacher replied and said that a girl asked to switch with me because she would not be there on the day hers is due. My teacher just assumed that she had asked me so the switch was made without telling me. In her words, "we've made changes. People joined the class, things evolved." Thanks lady. While things were 'evolving', I was celebrating my holiday.
My story is done a few weeks early. But that will just give me extra time to stress about it, revise it, scrap it, hate it, love it, all or none of the above.
If you are interested in reading the story, feel free to email me. I chose not to post it here because this is not a fiction blog.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Bystander effect
When you see a stranger in distress, do you run towards them or away?
The bystander affect is an interesting phenomenon whereby many people witness an event happening, such as a mugging, an attack, etc. But the more people that are in the crowd, the less likely it is that any one of them will run to help, or to call 911, being that everyone thinks that someone else will do it.
A famous story used to illustrate this effect is the Murder of Kitty Genovese. A woman who was murdered outside her home, and neighbors heard her screaming and did not go to help.
It is unfortunate, but pretty common.
Also it's natural to not want to get involved, especially if there's a possibility of personal harm.
But what if you needed help and everyone stood and stared and said, hey anyone got a light?
If you see something, say something. Do something.
The bystander affect is an interesting phenomenon whereby many people witness an event happening, such as a mugging, an attack, etc. But the more people that are in the crowd, the less likely it is that any one of them will run to help, or to call 911, being that everyone thinks that someone else will do it.
A famous story used to illustrate this effect is the Murder of Kitty Genovese. A woman who was murdered outside her home, and neighbors heard her screaming and did not go to help.
It is unfortunate, but pretty common.
Also it's natural to not want to get involved, especially if there's a possibility of personal harm.
But what if you needed help and everyone stood and stared and said, hey anyone got a light?
If you see something, say something. Do something.
American Haiku
He browsed a newspaper left behind.
How many hands held it today?
June 5, 2013, #2 train
* * * * *
If we all shut the tap tightly,
we'd have more water in the world.
June 5, 2013
* * * * *
He dropped his ID card
and I ran after him shouting "excuse me!".
June 17, 2013, College Campus
* * * * *
Zooming around on office chairs is fun
when the boss is not around.
June 18, 2013, The Office
How many hands held it today?
June 5, 2013, #2 train
* * * * *
If we all shut the tap tightly,
we'd have more water in the world.
June 5, 2013
* * * * *
He dropped his ID card
and I ran after him shouting "excuse me!".
June 17, 2013, College Campus
* * * * *
Zooming around on office chairs is fun
when the boss is not around.
June 18, 2013, The Office
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Fear
Fear is irrational and stupid.
Tell that to the trillions of people who suffer from stupid and irrational fears. And the list literally goes on and on: The phobia list.
I thought my 'fear' was made up, but apparently it is real: Graphophobia- Fear of writing or handwriting. I don't have a fear of writing so much that I have a fear of sucking, or of ridicule. I just have to write a short story for school. But what if it comes out horrible?
Ah, there's a word for that too:
Katagelophobia- Fear of ridicule.
Some are especially noteworthy: Kleptophobia- Fear of stealing.
So like, don't steal.
LOL: Syngenesophobia- Fear of relatives.
Chaetophobia- Fear of hair. (Like, even on your head?)
Phalacrophobia- Fear of becoming bald.
Cenophobia or Centophobia- Fear of new things or ideas. (ME!)
I think if I keep reading and identifying with this list I will become insane.
And there it is: Agateophobia- Fear of insanity.
Cibophobia- Fear of food.(Sitophobia, Sitiophobia) (Do you starve?)
Chirophobia- Fear of hands.
Macrophobia- Fear of long waits. (Most people, everywhere.)
Hmmmm... Papaphobia- Fear of the Pope.
Yup, Xenophobia- Fear of strangers or foreigners.
Anthropophobia- Fear of people or society.
Sociophobia- Fear of society or people in general.
Oh so that's what my problem is: Sophophobia- Fear of learning.
Bromidrosiphobia or Bromidrophobia- Fear of body smells. (I think we all suffer from that)
Agoraphobia- Fear of open spaces or of being in crowded, public places like markets. Fear of leaving a safe place.
I searched 'fear of babies'. No such thing.
Made the list: Theophobia- Fear of gods or religion.
BEST. ONE. EVER:
Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia- Fear of the number 666.
Okay seriously, if you need a laugh check out The List
I need to go to sleep.
Oh no:
Hypnophobia- Fear of sleep or of being hypnotized.
Somniphobia- Fear of sleep.
Noctiphobia- Fear of the night.
Clinophobia- Fear of going to bed.
I could just go on and on.....
Tell that to the trillions of people who suffer from stupid and irrational fears. And the list literally goes on and on: The phobia list.
I thought my 'fear' was made up, but apparently it is real: Graphophobia- Fear of writing or handwriting. I don't have a fear of writing so much that I have a fear of sucking, or of ridicule. I just have to write a short story for school. But what if it comes out horrible?
Ah, there's a word for that too:
Katagelophobia- Fear of ridicule.
Some are especially noteworthy: Kleptophobia- Fear of stealing.
So like, don't steal.
LOL: Syngenesophobia- Fear of relatives.
Chaetophobia- Fear of hair. (Like, even on your head?)
Phalacrophobia- Fear of becoming bald.
Cenophobia or Centophobia- Fear of new things or ideas. (ME!)
I think if I keep reading and identifying with this list I will become insane.
And there it is: Agateophobia- Fear of insanity.
Cibophobia- Fear of food.(Sitophobia, Sitiophobia) (Do you starve?)
Chirophobia- Fear of hands.
Macrophobia- Fear of long waits. (Most people, everywhere.)
Hmmmm... Papaphobia- Fear of the Pope.
Yup, Xenophobia- Fear of strangers or foreigners.
Anthropophobia- Fear of people or society.
Sociophobia- Fear of society or people in general.
Oh so that's what my problem is: Sophophobia- Fear of learning.
Bromidrosiphobia or Bromidrophobia- Fear of body smells. (I think we all suffer from that)
Agoraphobia- Fear of open spaces or of being in crowded, public places like markets. Fear of leaving a safe place.
I searched 'fear of babies'. No such thing.
Made the list: Theophobia- Fear of gods or religion.
BEST. ONE. EVER:
Hexakosioihexekontahexaphobia- Fear of the number 666.
Okay seriously, if you need a laugh check out The List
I need to go to sleep.
Oh no:
Hypnophobia- Fear of sleep or of being hypnotized.
Somniphobia- Fear of sleep.
Noctiphobia- Fear of the night.
Clinophobia- Fear of going to bed.
I could just go on and on.....
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Careers for People-Haters
The article aptly starts off with: "Hi, Hater. That's right - I'm talking to you, the one grimacing at the
idea of having to carry on small talk or sit through departmental
meetings. We get it: You're just not the type of person who likes to
work on a big team or collaborate with coworkers on projects."
In other words, if you hate people and you dread the idea of working closely with others, these 6 career options may be for you.
In other words, if you hate people and you dread the idea of working closely with others, these 6 career options may be for you.
How to help a trader escape
This is why I should write posts when I think of them instead of leaving them sitting as drafts until months later:
"Here's How Snowden Could Escape from Moscow and Exactly Where He Could Go"
So like, thanks for the great plan. I hear that Snowden is living the dream in Russia now.
"Here's How Snowden Could Escape from Moscow and Exactly Where He Could Go"
So like, thanks for the great plan. I hear that Snowden is living the dream in Russia now.
Another great reason for frum guys to grow beards
I can't explain why I find guys with beards attractive. It's just what I'm used to.
When I was 5, my father decided to grow a beard while we were away for the summer and he was in the city working. When he came to pick us up, I didn't recognize him. My mind was telling me that the person I was looking at was my father, but he looked... different.
As a frum Jew who is Lubavitch, I do think that guys should grow full beards.
And apparently there are great benefits that come with it.
When I was 5, my father decided to grow a beard while we were away for the summer and he was in the city working. When he came to pick us up, I didn't recognize him. My mind was telling me that the person I was looking at was my father, but he looked... different.
As a frum Jew who is Lubavitch, I do think that guys should grow full beards.
And apparently there are great benefits that come with it.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Little words, Big talk
The smell of
cold air
in a hug.
The outdoors
clings to you
as you enter.
Pine, green and sharp
taste the chill
on your tongue.
The sweetness
of love
in a homemade cookie.
The smile
of appreciation
for your favorite dish.
A coin holds
the warmth
of my palm.
My wish
for your safety
and contentment.
The sharp slam
of the door closing
behind me.
The sound of
quiet finally,
bittersweet.
A rushed goodbye
as the car
pulls away.
Hope you heard
all the words
I didn't say.
cold air
in a hug.
The outdoors
clings to you
as you enter.
Pine, green and sharp
taste the chill
on your tongue.
The sweetness
of love
in a homemade cookie.
The smile
of appreciation
for your favorite dish.
A coin holds
the warmth
of my palm.
My wish
for your safety
and contentment.
The sharp slam
of the door closing
behind me.
The sound of
quiet finally,
bittersweet.
A rushed goodbye
as the car
pulls away.
Hope you heard
all the words
I didn't say.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Oh, Religion
Tonight I argued that Catholicism trumps Protestant, Galileo Theology, and Jesuits.
The Protestants said that "We" took their money, and prevented them from getting closer to G-d.
Galileo said that his beliefs and discoveries in science did not contradict the church, and that he was still a firm believer in G-d, although the church claimed that his scientific discoveries went against the bible.
The Jesuits, while claiming to support the church, said that they brought education to schools. They had a pretty weak argument.
A guy in my group kept apologizing for what "We" did to the people, claiming that the church is different now, that it does more for the people, and that being that it is the foundation of Christianity and that all these other breakaway religions came after, then ultimately everyone will find their way back.
I tried telling my teacher that I'm Jewish, thinking that would settle the argument. But he told me to go along with it.
At the end of the debate, which was pretty funny and had everyone laughing (Galileo said 'follow me or you will die'), my teacher welcomed us to get out of character and say our true opinions.
So I said to the 'Protestants', you gave a good argument, but what do you really believe in?
Religion is a touchy subject. And while I find it amazing that in a classroom of secular students, most of whom are not Jewish, who come from vastly different backgrounds, countries, and religions, we are discussing G-d. And not just a discussion of 'does G-d exist', but more so, that He does exist, and how religion helps one see that.
I was never very good at arguments. I just wanted to say, "I'm Jewish, we are the Chosen people, there was no big bang, we did not just come to be, we were here from the beginning of time, we will be here until the end of time, and all other religions are bogus".
I did not think anyone would take too well to that.
Oh ya, and Jesus was Jewish, he went to hell and he is never coming back, so there goes your savior.
The Protestants said that "We" took their money, and prevented them from getting closer to G-d.
Galileo said that his beliefs and discoveries in science did not contradict the church, and that he was still a firm believer in G-d, although the church claimed that his scientific discoveries went against the bible.
The Jesuits, while claiming to support the church, said that they brought education to schools. They had a pretty weak argument.
A guy in my group kept apologizing for what "We" did to the people, claiming that the church is different now, that it does more for the people, and that being that it is the foundation of Christianity and that all these other breakaway religions came after, then ultimately everyone will find their way back.
I tried telling my teacher that I'm Jewish, thinking that would settle the argument. But he told me to go along with it.
At the end of the debate, which was pretty funny and had everyone laughing (Galileo said 'follow me or you will die'), my teacher welcomed us to get out of character and say our true opinions.
So I said to the 'Protestants', you gave a good argument, but what do you really believe in?
Religion is a touchy subject. And while I find it amazing that in a classroom of secular students, most of whom are not Jewish, who come from vastly different backgrounds, countries, and religions, we are discussing G-d. And not just a discussion of 'does G-d exist', but more so, that He does exist, and how religion helps one see that.
I was never very good at arguments. I just wanted to say, "I'm Jewish, we are the Chosen people, there was no big bang, we did not just come to be, we were here from the beginning of time, we will be here until the end of time, and all other religions are bogus".
I did not think anyone would take too well to that.
Oh ya, and Jesus was Jewish, he went to hell and he is never coming back, so there goes your savior.
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