Tonight is New Years. Not our new years, of course, that was 3 months ago. Tonight is the goyish new year, and it symbolizes the end of and era, and the beginning of a new time. No more 2009, now it's 2010. The funny thing is, I've already been thinking of it as 2010 for awhile now. Much like you view yourself as a year older then you are as you approach your birthday. And then when it comes the new number seems natural, not new at all.
I wonder if people will refer to it as the year 'two thousand and ten' or 'twenty ten'. Interesting thought.
Tonight there will be swarms of people converging on Times Square. I was gonna be one of those people, but as it turns out, I'm home instead, nice warm and cozy, as it rains outside. I have to say, with all this talk about the ball dropping (no pun intended) it would have been cool to actually view it, after wondering about it for years, and never actually having seen it.
I have a mental image every year when it comes to new years. In the kids show 'Arthur' (one of my best childhood memories) the kids thought that there was a calendar police, and that at midnight on the dot they had to throw out their old calendars, and put up the new one. If they didn't do this the police would come. But they were kids, and so they fell asleep. And there was no calendar police after all.
I'm in a reflecting mood. Thoughtful. No, this holiday and celebration has no relevance or significance to me. But it is a change. And when something changes, things don't stay the same,. They are different. (That is like such a 'duh' moment.)
Only if you want to, pull out your party blower, and when the clock strikes midnight, give it a blow. There is a tradition to kiss someone at midnight. I will not be keeping that tradition this year, unless my mama's up, and cheek counts.
Look back at the past year, then look ahead, and don't look back again.
Happy new years, may it be a good one!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Frustrated
Here are my frustrations:
I hate judgmental people; I've just discovered that I'm judgemental. I.e, do I hate myself?
Scenario: a guy with dark skin, looks kind of Arabic, Persian, or possibly Israeli. Clean shaven, no kippa. He starts talking to me, asking me questions. Turns out he used to be religious. Now he's just, I'm not sure how you would catagorize it. May I interrupt myself to say that I hate labels as well.
He grew up religious. His family is traditional. He went to a religious school. He has ultra orthodox relatives. I never quite understood how he came to leave all that. But he tells me, I'm a good Jew. I give tzedaka, I don't steal, or kill, (ya, most of us too), I keep kosher, and shabbat, mostly, but I'm so damn bored so I watch tv, and use the computer, but that's it.
He asks me a lot of questions, questionsa that I can't answer, and that bothers me a lot. He asks me what is the difference between Chabad and other Jews. What is tanya. Why do the satmar ladies shave their heads. (I have to say to that I had no answer, not even remotely.) Why do women wear shaitels, if they are supposed to cover their hair, but shaitels look beautiful and are attractive.
I squirmed. I made up some answers. I got the feeling that he was more trying to challenge me then actually seek answers. But still, he was asking me, and I didn't know how to answer. Which made me wonder: did they actually teach this in school, how to know what to answer people when asked these kinds of questions, and I just blocked it out as I always did? Or did I waste 19 years of my life, 15 years of wich I spent in school, and learned absolutely nothing. Am I a shame to all my teachers? Ouch that hurt a bit.
If he is a good Jew, because he does all that he does, then how am I different then him? I won't ask better, I know that here is no better in Judaism. But what makes me different then him? Because I actually do keep shabbos? Or kashrus?
It's like a math equation that went wrong somewhere along the way, and now I just can't solve it. Frustrations are just so frustrating.
I hate judgmental people; I've just discovered that I'm judgemental. I.e, do I hate myself?
Scenario: a guy with dark skin, looks kind of Arabic, Persian, or possibly Israeli. Clean shaven, no kippa. He starts talking to me, asking me questions. Turns out he used to be religious. Now he's just, I'm not sure how you would catagorize it. May I interrupt myself to say that I hate labels as well.
He grew up religious. His family is traditional. He went to a religious school. He has ultra orthodox relatives. I never quite understood how he came to leave all that. But he tells me, I'm a good Jew. I give tzedaka, I don't steal, or kill, (ya, most of us too), I keep kosher, and shabbat, mostly, but I'm so damn bored so I watch tv, and use the computer, but that's it.
He asks me a lot of questions, questionsa that I can't answer, and that bothers me a lot. He asks me what is the difference between Chabad and other Jews. What is tanya. Why do the satmar ladies shave their heads. (I have to say to that I had no answer, not even remotely.) Why do women wear shaitels, if they are supposed to cover their hair, but shaitels look beautiful and are attractive.
I squirmed. I made up some answers. I got the feeling that he was more trying to challenge me then actually seek answers. But still, he was asking me, and I didn't know how to answer. Which made me wonder: did they actually teach this in school, how to know what to answer people when asked these kinds of questions, and I just blocked it out as I always did? Or did I waste 19 years of my life, 15 years of wich I spent in school, and learned absolutely nothing. Am I a shame to all my teachers? Ouch that hurt a bit.
If he is a good Jew, because he does all that he does, then how am I different then him? I won't ask better, I know that here is no better in Judaism. But what makes me different then him? Because I actually do keep shabbos? Or kashrus?
It's like a math equation that went wrong somewhere along the way, and now I just can't solve it. Frustrations are just so frustrating.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Dear God
Dear God,
Some days I just don't feel like smiling. It's not even like I wake up and say 'okay today I will be in a bad mood and I won't smile at all.' Sometimes it just comes. Like last week. I got lost on the way to somewhere I had to be. No one likes getting lost, least of all me. It was early in the morning, too early for me. I was cold, and pissed off. No, I did not tell myself 'don't worry Altie, everything is hashgacha pratis, there is a reason for this, trust in God'. Even though all that may have been true.
But I was annoyed. And mad. At the guy who gave me directions that were technically right, but because I don't know Manhattan enough they turned out wrong. At the MTA for taking my money for the metro card, and then not taking me to where I needed to go. At the bus driver who didn't refund me even though I barely went one stop and he told me I needed to go back the other way. At the lady who told me it was Broadway when it was clearly NOT Broadway. At the guy who wanted a dollar from me for a coffee in exchange for pointing me in the right direction, which I already knew anyway. At the weather, for being cold when I had to walk like 10 blocks!! At the ice that made me fall in front of a whole bunch of men.
The only good thing that happened in all of that was that I called my father for directions. He knows Manhattan like the back of his hand, and oh ya, theres a little tracking device in my phone, so all Daddy has to do is look my location up online and voila! He knows where I am. It can come in handy when I get lost, OR it can be detriment for me trying to sneak around without him knowing. (Like when I get home after hanging out with the peeps and he says, 'you're not allowed to go on a highway.' And I stare at him suspiciously thinking, how did he... oh ya.)
Well he helped me out. And I FINALLY (after about an hour later than I should have been) got on the right subway. And got to where I needed to go. I was NOT happy. I was NOT smiling. (Okay I did smile after I texted a friend who cheered me up. :)
I have some good days, and some bad ones. And even WITHIN those days, I have good moments, and bad. I do not promise to be Superwoman, and be happy all the time. Honestly, I think people that smile and are happy all the time are creepy, and weird. Everyone needs some moping time. Some more often then others.
Anyways God, I do have a point in all of this. (Thank you for your time, by the way. I know you must be super busy looking for the husband that my sister is missing at the moment, and those run-away wives that my brothers can't seem to find, plus making a flu vaccine, and tossing the economy just to give people something to talk about, and oh ya, that man we call the president, thank God for that, cuz otherwise people who have no lives would be bored out of their minds and have nothing else to talk about, seeing as how now all they say is 'oh Obama. Don't get me started...' And uhu.)
I can't promise to be happy all the time. I can't even promise to be happy MOST of the time. But I will try, at least a bit more than I do right now, and believe me for me that's HUGE. So take it.
Also, thank you for sending me those little things that make me happy, like an email from someone nice who cares about me, or a 50$ check in the mail, or even a sunny day. Maybe it's my JOB to be happy and find reasons to be happy, but when you send me the reason, it makes my job so much easier :)
So thank you for all the little things. I really do appreciate it, even though sometimes I sound very ungrateful.
Sincerely,
Altie
Some days I just don't feel like smiling. It's not even like I wake up and say 'okay today I will be in a bad mood and I won't smile at all.' Sometimes it just comes. Like last week. I got lost on the way to somewhere I had to be. No one likes getting lost, least of all me. It was early in the morning, too early for me. I was cold, and pissed off. No, I did not tell myself 'don't worry Altie, everything is hashgacha pratis, there is a reason for this, trust in God'. Even though all that may have been true.
But I was annoyed. And mad. At the guy who gave me directions that were technically right, but because I don't know Manhattan enough they turned out wrong. At the MTA for taking my money for the metro card, and then not taking me to where I needed to go. At the bus driver who didn't refund me even though I barely went one stop and he told me I needed to go back the other way. At the lady who told me it was Broadway when it was clearly NOT Broadway. At the guy who wanted a dollar from me for a coffee in exchange for pointing me in the right direction, which I already knew anyway. At the weather, for being cold when I had to walk like 10 blocks!! At the ice that made me fall in front of a whole bunch of men.
The only good thing that happened in all of that was that I called my father for directions. He knows Manhattan like the back of his hand, and oh ya, theres a little tracking device in my phone, so all Daddy has to do is look my location up online and voila! He knows where I am. It can come in handy when I get lost, OR it can be detriment for me trying to sneak around without him knowing. (Like when I get home after hanging out with the peeps and he says, 'you're not allowed to go on a highway.' And I stare at him suspiciously thinking, how did he... oh ya.)
Well he helped me out. And I FINALLY (after about an hour later than I should have been) got on the right subway. And got to where I needed to go. I was NOT happy. I was NOT smiling. (Okay I did smile after I texted a friend who cheered me up. :)
I have some good days, and some bad ones. And even WITHIN those days, I have good moments, and bad. I do not promise to be Superwoman, and be happy all the time. Honestly, I think people that smile and are happy all the time are creepy, and weird. Everyone needs some moping time. Some more often then others.
Anyways God, I do have a point in all of this. (Thank you for your time, by the way. I know you must be super busy looking for the husband that my sister is missing at the moment, and those run-away wives that my brothers can't seem to find, plus making a flu vaccine, and tossing the economy just to give people something to talk about, and oh ya, that man we call the president, thank God for that, cuz otherwise people who have no lives would be bored out of their minds and have nothing else to talk about, seeing as how now all they say is 'oh Obama. Don't get me started...' And uhu.)
I can't promise to be happy all the time. I can't even promise to be happy MOST of the time. But I will try, at least a bit more than I do right now, and believe me for me that's HUGE. So take it.
Also, thank you for sending me those little things that make me happy, like an email from someone nice who cares about me, or a 50$ check in the mail, or even a sunny day. Maybe it's my JOB to be happy and find reasons to be happy, but when you send me the reason, it makes my job so much easier :)
So thank you for all the little things. I really do appreciate it, even though sometimes I sound very ungrateful.
Sincerely,
Altie
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Happy fasting
I cry for all the kids in the world who haven't been tucked in at night,
and for the ones who went hungry today, not because it was a fast.
I cry for all the kids who are abused on a day to day basis,
by the very ones who are supposed to nurture them, and show love.
I cry for all the kids who are deprived of the words 'I love you'
and the ones who've never known a loving embrace.
I cry for the kids who cry themselves to sleep at night,
wondering if this was what they were brought down here for,
or if it ever gets better.
And then I drink a beer and drown myself in an alcohol induced stupor.
I go to lala land and everything is good and happy, for the moment at least.
I don't cry anymore, and frankly, I don't care about much.
See, crying needs a reason. 'Strong people don't cry.' That's false. It is the ones who cry who are strong for showing emotion. But still. You can't just cry because you are sad, no. So I cry and think of the neglected children, and the hobo's, and the poor people, and all the people that I read about in books but thank G-d have never met.
And believe me, if I could stomach a beer, I would drink. But I can't, it tastes too gross. And my 2 attempts at getting drunk have failed, I believe my body and mind is above that. So no alcohol induced stupor for me. Just the cold, harsh reality. And really, I'm not crying. Just thinking about it.
But I'm done. Now I'm gonna watch a funny show that makes you laugh despite whatever mood you're in. And I'm gonna while away the time until the fast is over. And maybe I'll put a coin into the tzedaka box, and give a thought or too to all the unfortunate people in the world. But that's all.
Happy fasting, everyone! Do one good thing today, and have in mind that this one thing may very well be the last one needed, the last 'brick in the bais hamikdash' that will help end this horrible golus, and bring Moshiach, not soon, not eventually, but right now!!!! Cuz I'm so sick of waiting!!!
and for the ones who went hungry today, not because it was a fast.
I cry for all the kids who are abused on a day to day basis,
by the very ones who are supposed to nurture them, and show love.
I cry for all the kids who are deprived of the words 'I love you'
and the ones who've never known a loving embrace.
I cry for the kids who cry themselves to sleep at night,
wondering if this was what they were brought down here for,
or if it ever gets better.
And then I drink a beer and drown myself in an alcohol induced stupor.
I go to lala land and everything is good and happy, for the moment at least.
I don't cry anymore, and frankly, I don't care about much.
See, crying needs a reason. 'Strong people don't cry.' That's false. It is the ones who cry who are strong for showing emotion. But still. You can't just cry because you are sad, no. So I cry and think of the neglected children, and the hobo's, and the poor people, and all the people that I read about in books but thank G-d have never met.
And believe me, if I could stomach a beer, I would drink. But I can't, it tastes too gross. And my 2 attempts at getting drunk have failed, I believe my body and mind is above that. So no alcohol induced stupor for me. Just the cold, harsh reality. And really, I'm not crying. Just thinking about it.
But I'm done. Now I'm gonna watch a funny show that makes you laugh despite whatever mood you're in. And I'm gonna while away the time until the fast is over. And maybe I'll put a coin into the tzedaka box, and give a thought or too to all the unfortunate people in the world. But that's all.
Happy fasting, everyone! Do one good thing today, and have in mind that this one thing may very well be the last one needed, the last 'brick in the bais hamikdash' that will help end this horrible golus, and bring Moshiach, not soon, not eventually, but right now!!!! Cuz I'm so sick of waiting!!!
Use your words boy!
Words have always been my friend. They have helped me express the things I was feeling and thinking, good or bad, happy or sad, thoughtful, or anything in between.
And now words have failed me. It's weird, but I think I'm just gonna stop talking now.
And now words have failed me. It's weird, but I think I'm just gonna stop talking now.
Friday, December 25, 2009
:(
There are so many bumper stickers on facebook that say exactly what I'm thinking, and feeling. But it all seems so fake. I want it to be MY words and MY thoughts on there, not someone elses.
She left. And she also left. They both left. Now I'm here all alone, and it's kind of sad. I know that in a few weeks it'll be easier to deal with, it will be better, it won't hurt as much. But they'll still be gone, you know? As much as you say, 'oh but they're only a phone call away', it'll never be the same.
They are my witnesses to what we got up to. Now who'll be there to verify that I didn't make up half the stuff I did? And who'll be there to hug me when it gets bad? And to laugh with, and cry with, and all that other stuff?
Hello world. This is me calling. I know you're out there. I'm sorry that I'm not my usual happy self right now. I'm sorry that I'm letting out all my emotions on you. I'm sorry that I'm sad. But what can I do?
I wish that I could sit there pouting until someone asks me what's wrong. Maybe I'll go to Manhattan and get one of those 'free hugs'. I can really use one right now.
It'll be okay, it'll be okay, I know. And when you ask me how I am and I say I'm fine, and then you tell me to stop BSing you cuz you know I'm not fine, what I really mean to say is, that I WILL be fine. I know I will.
Just right now I'm not, and that's okay.
She left. And she also left. They both left. Now I'm here all alone, and it's kind of sad. I know that in a few weeks it'll be easier to deal with, it will be better, it won't hurt as much. But they'll still be gone, you know? As much as you say, 'oh but they're only a phone call away', it'll never be the same.
They are my witnesses to what we got up to. Now who'll be there to verify that I didn't make up half the stuff I did? And who'll be there to hug me when it gets bad? And to laugh with, and cry with, and all that other stuff?
Hello world. This is me calling. I know you're out there. I'm sorry that I'm not my usual happy self right now. I'm sorry that I'm letting out all my emotions on you. I'm sorry that I'm sad. But what can I do?
I wish that I could sit there pouting until someone asks me what's wrong. Maybe I'll go to Manhattan and get one of those 'free hugs'. I can really use one right now.
It'll be okay, it'll be okay, I know. And when you ask me how I am and I say I'm fine, and then you tell me to stop BSing you cuz you know I'm not fine, what I really mean to say is, that I WILL be fine. I know I will.
Just right now I'm not, and that's okay.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Up for 25 hours straight, high on coffee
The world is so vibrant at 7 am.....
I don't like my GPS, so I'm gonna call it 'Stupid'.
Sunrise in the rear view mirror is really pretty, but keep your eyes on the road.
Piles of snow are not fun to drive over, especially going at a fast speed.
Highway driving at 5 am when it's still dark, especially your first time, can be really scary.
Coffee makes you very jittery.
Sleep sounds very good right now.
I don't like my GPS, so I'm gonna call it 'Stupid'.
Sunrise in the rear view mirror is really pretty, but keep your eyes on the road.
Piles of snow are not fun to drive over, especially going at a fast speed.
Highway driving at 5 am when it's still dark, especially your first time, can be really scary.
Coffee makes you very jittery.
Sleep sounds very good right now.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
There was a guy on the subway today playing christmas songs on his instrument (perhaps a saxafone, not sure.) They were very catchy tunes, and I was trying not to hum along. I was saying tehillim for my friends father, who is having heart surgery tomorrow. (Please say tehillim for yehuda leib yitzchok ben rochel leah. kapital 54) It just seemed so wrong. That all these people were unaware of what was going on, that they didnt care that my friend's father is in the hospital. And I was the odd one out saying psalms in an anciant language, as modern christmas tunes played in the background.
One of the songs said 'he knows when you're awake, and he knows when you're asleep.' If I didn't know what it as talking about I might have assumed G-d.
Tonight was another friend's sisters wedding. I had to go. I had math class tonight, we had a test. Thank you to a certain someone who helpped me, even though it was wrong of me to ask. Get home from school, change into my new pretty black dress I just bought, trudge to the wedding. Say mazal tov, dance with my friends.
My other friend is leaving Wednesday night/ early thursday morning. Happy for one friend, sad for another, trying not to think about the 3rd one leaving. Another friend just came to town, went to see her.
All I wanna do is go to sleep, run away, hide in a little corner. So much happening at once, my mind can't take it all in. Too many emotions, I wish they would all go away.
Trudging through the snow at midnight, leaving the wedding, walking with my friend, worried about the other one. Don't want her to go, but shes going anyway. Wanna write a sad mushy goodbye poem, but I'm not going to.
I wanna scream, I wanna cry, but right now I havta go to sleep cuz I'm waking up at 6 am to sub for someone.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Okay I feel better now. Funny how a little key can let out a lot of emotions.
Gnite world.
One of the songs said 'he knows when you're awake, and he knows when you're asleep.' If I didn't know what it as talking about I might have assumed G-d.
Tonight was another friend's sisters wedding. I had to go. I had math class tonight, we had a test. Thank you to a certain someone who helpped me, even though it was wrong of me to ask. Get home from school, change into my new pretty black dress I just bought, trudge to the wedding. Say mazal tov, dance with my friends.
My other friend is leaving Wednesday night/ early thursday morning. Happy for one friend, sad for another, trying not to think about the 3rd one leaving. Another friend just came to town, went to see her.
All I wanna do is go to sleep, run away, hide in a little corner. So much happening at once, my mind can't take it all in. Too many emotions, I wish they would all go away.
Trudging through the snow at midnight, leaving the wedding, walking with my friend, worried about the other one. Don't want her to go, but shes going anyway. Wanna write a sad mushy goodbye poem, but I'm not going to.
I wanna scream, I wanna cry, but right now I havta go to sleep cuz I'm waking up at 6 am to sub for someone.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Okay I feel better now. Funny how a little key can let out a lot of emotions.
Gnite world.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Days not over yet...
He said to me, 'how you doin beautiful?' I checked the street, I was the only one around, he was talking to me. I smiled, cuz he was right. Thank you kind stranger who helpped boost my ego. You're sweet.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
My snowy rambles
Its snowing! This time for real. I ventured out to go to the poetry slam, couldn't miss my 5 minutes of fame. People digging their cars out of the snowy graves, me running in the streets, giddy like a child, high on happiness, and this snowy wonder, like a fantasy world, a child's dream cuz it means no school, but I'm not in school so it shouldn't mean much to me, but it does. It means winters here, and its here to stay, for awhile at least. My hair is white like an old ladies, no hat on my head, stupid of me. My gloves do not keep my fingers cold. Scratch that. They keep them cold, not warm. I see 2 of my neighbors shoveling their steps, they challenge us to a snowball fight, I hit them a few times, they only got me once. And this is so GLORIOUS!! And I love that word, glorious, it is just so pretty, just like the world outside. Cuz the snow covers up all the bad, all the garbage, all the bleak and the black, and the ugly. Now its all even, its equal, its all pretty! The snow melts in my hair and drip drip drips down my face, and onto the table, and makes my make up run. Now I feel like I have brain freeze cuz those little bits of heaven hit my head and made me cold. That's what I hate, the cold. If it could be white without being cold it would be just perfect. But then it wouldn't be snow, it would be some generic brand of fake. Yes i know. And now would be the perfect time to go skating, if I had a pond, like in those movies, where they have a pond in their backyard. But alas I live in the city, I'm lucky if I even have a tree in my backyard let alone grass. And i love the freedom of snow, the freedom to run in the streets, the freedom to be like a child again, and not care about anything, other than what hot drink you will have when you decide that you are good and cold, and the fun must come to an end cuz your bed is waiting. Yes, the bed always awaits, like it does, when nightfall hits. But I know that all I have to do is open my eyes tomorrow morning, and that white white world will be waiting for me still. And it'll all begin again. I love the snow.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
I believe
This article has been published in The Jewish Press
For thousands of years the world has held it's breath,
waiting for this moment in time,
waiting for you,
waiting for me.
I reach up to kiss the mezuza,
I don't know why.
I don't know much of anything,
but I know that I believe.
I believe, I believe, I believe.
No, they tell me, that's not enough.
You have to know. You have to learn.
So I learn, and I learn,
some things make no sense, but I listen anyway,
internalize, cuz they told me to. Maybe they know what I do not.
I don't know why I learn,
I don't know much of anything,
but I know that I believe.
I believe, I believe, I believe.
Still not enough, they tell me.
Now you have to tell the world. Spread the word.
So I do. I listen to them, cuz maybe they know more then me.
I say it nicely, I hand out pamphlets, and candles,
all the while wondering why I'm doing this.
I don't know why I do this.
I don't know much of anything,
but I know that I believe.
I believe, I believe, I believe.
No, not like that, they tell me.
You have to scream it, like you mean it.
But I do mean it.
So I scream. I scream in my heart, I scream to the world,
I do it cuz they told me to, and maybe they know more than me.
I don't know why I'm doing this,
I don't know much of anything,
but I know that I believe.
I believe, I believe, I believe.
Still not enough. It's never enough. It can't be enough.
You can't stop, can't let up, until it's over.
Until we have reached our goal.
They just keep saying it, keep saying it,
like they still mean it. Still smiling, still enthusiastic.
But I'm not so sure of it anymore.
I wanna scream. I wanna throw a glass into the fire,
and hear it shatter, like the sound my heart would make.
I wanna shout to the heavens, and hear the thunder rumble,
and see the lightening flash,
and feel the raindrops on my skin,
icy cold,
and know, that G-d is screaming too.
I wanna bang my fists on heaven's door,
and storm in there,
with the fury that I feel.
Cuz it's not enough. It never seems to be enough.
And the storm rages still.
And I don't know what more there is to do.
I don't know what G-d could possibly want from us,
that He holds it back, this one thing which we need.
And the frustration consumes me.
I don't know much of anything.
But I know, that despite it all, I still believe.
Not because they told me to.
But because in my heart, I know the truth.
And I whisper, as the storm reaches a crescendo,
Ani maamin.
I believe, I believe, I believe.
For thousands of years the world has held it's breath,
waiting for this moment in time,
waiting for you,
waiting for me.
I reach up to kiss the mezuza,
I don't know why.
I don't know much of anything,
but I know that I believe.
I believe, I believe, I believe.
No, they tell me, that's not enough.
You have to know. You have to learn.
So I learn, and I learn,
some things make no sense, but I listen anyway,
internalize, cuz they told me to. Maybe they know what I do not.
I don't know why I learn,
I don't know much of anything,
but I know that I believe.
I believe, I believe, I believe.
Still not enough, they tell me.
Now you have to tell the world. Spread the word.
So I do. I listen to them, cuz maybe they know more then me.
I say it nicely, I hand out pamphlets, and candles,
all the while wondering why I'm doing this.
I don't know why I do this.
I don't know much of anything,
but I know that I believe.
I believe, I believe, I believe.
No, not like that, they tell me.
You have to scream it, like you mean it.
But I do mean it.
So I scream. I scream in my heart, I scream to the world,
I do it cuz they told me to, and maybe they know more than me.
I don't know why I'm doing this,
I don't know much of anything,
but I know that I believe.
I believe, I believe, I believe.
Still not enough. It's never enough. It can't be enough.
You can't stop, can't let up, until it's over.
Until we have reached our goal.
They just keep saying it, keep saying it,
like they still mean it. Still smiling, still enthusiastic.
But I'm not so sure of it anymore.
I wanna scream. I wanna throw a glass into the fire,
and hear it shatter, like the sound my heart would make.
I wanna shout to the heavens, and hear the thunder rumble,
and see the lightening flash,
and feel the raindrops on my skin,
icy cold,
and know, that G-d is screaming too.
I wanna bang my fists on heaven's door,
and storm in there,
with the fury that I feel.
Cuz it's not enough. It never seems to be enough.
And the storm rages still.
And I don't know what more there is to do.
I don't know what G-d could possibly want from us,
that He holds it back, this one thing which we need.
And the frustration consumes me.
I don't know much of anything.
But I know, that despite it all, I still believe.
Not because they told me to.
But because in my heart, I know the truth.
And I whisper, as the storm reaches a crescendo,
Ani maamin.
I believe, I believe, I believe.
I'm in love
Makes my heart beat faster.
Forbidden.
Soft and sweet.
Smells like heaven.
Golden brown, and crumbly.
Bite into it,
melt in mouth,
like little bits of sunshine.
makes me happy,
live in the moment.
I'm in love
with a donut!!!
Or, as someone so kindly pointed out to me,
"you dont love diet coke. you love yourself. Therefore based on the way diet coke makes you feel you harbor emotions in relation to it." (Fill in 'donut' for diet coke'.) Okay ya, I also love diet coke. But if I was gonna be politically correct, (which I have no interest in) I'd say I love the way donuts make me feel. Which isn't a true statement. See.
But this donut is to die for. It's called an old fashioned donut, procured at Weies's bakery in Boro Park. Tell them I referred you, maybe you'll get a discount.
(I'd provide a picture, but the evidence is gone.)
Freilechin Chanuka!! I just love saying that, I'll abuse it until it's over. Oh, happy Rosh Chodesh too! Soon it'll be Hey Teves, the Didan Netzach day!
Here's to donuts, and throwing diets out the window until further notice!
Forbidden.
Soft and sweet.
Smells like heaven.
Golden brown, and crumbly.
Bite into it,
melt in mouth,
like little bits of sunshine.
makes me happy,
live in the moment.
I'm in love
with a donut!!!
Or, as someone so kindly pointed out to me,
"you dont love diet coke. you love yourself. Therefore based on the way diet coke makes you feel you harbor emotions in relation to it." (Fill in 'donut' for diet coke'.) Okay ya, I also love diet coke. But if I was gonna be politically correct, (which I have no interest in) I'd say I love the way donuts make me feel. Which isn't a true statement. See.
But this donut is to die for. It's called an old fashioned donut, procured at Weies's bakery in Boro Park. Tell them I referred you, maybe you'll get a discount.
(I'd provide a picture, but the evidence is gone.)
Freilechin Chanuka!! I just love saying that, I'll abuse it until it's over. Oh, happy Rosh Chodesh too! Soon it'll be Hey Teves, the Didan Netzach day!
Here's to donuts, and throwing diets out the window until further notice!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Unlimited lifeline
It's brilliant! You know the game 'Who wants to be a millionaire'? (It sounds waaaaaay better in Regis Philbin's rich barritone) The player has several lifelines. Phone a friend, ask the audience, eliminate 2 choices. But after you use up the lifeline, you don't get anymore. Fair? I think not.
What if in life you had unlimited lifelines? You do me a favor, and now I'm indebted to you. I do you a favor, and now you are in my debt. Life is a game of give and take, debts and payback.
But wouldn't it be nice if it didn't work that way? If favors recharged on their own? I'm writing an English essay for school. I need help. Anyone want to write it for me?
Unlimited lifeline. Like those candy bar machines, where after you purchase something, and it drops down into that black black hole, another candy bar pops out. Voila! It just keeps coming. Where you can always ask for help and not feel like you owe something, or that you are obligated to give back.
Awesome.
What if in life you had unlimited lifelines? You do me a favor, and now I'm indebted to you. I do you a favor, and now you are in my debt. Life is a game of give and take, debts and payback.
But wouldn't it be nice if it didn't work that way? If favors recharged on their own? I'm writing an English essay for school. I need help. Anyone want to write it for me?
Unlimited lifeline. Like those candy bar machines, where after you purchase something, and it drops down into that black black hole, another candy bar pops out. Voila! It just keeps coming. Where you can always ask for help and not feel like you owe something, or that you are obligated to give back.
Awesome.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
Gifts and trees (3rd night)
I just wrapped a whole bunch of presents, in, get this, sesame street wrapping paper, with colorful bows on top. Yes, they look really nice. And the irony struck me that this is exactly what the goyim do for Christmas, and then it struck me even harder when I placed them next to a miniature Christmas tree as a joke.
I'm having a family Chanukah party tomorrow, and I prepared gifts for a grabbag. It's supposed to be cute, nothing expensive, just chatchkelach like hand sanitizer, toe socks, a lint roller, pringles, markers, etc etc, you get my drift. Cute funny prizes.
Someone pointed out to me that Jews are not supposed to give presents on Chanuka. I'm not sure if that's true, and I'd like to see a source if there is one and anyone knows of it. I know we give money on the 5th night, believe me, I look forward to that tradition every year. That's when my father happily hands me money, and it's rightfully mine, as opposed to all the other times I use his credit card for things I need, and convince myself that he'll be okay with it.
Where do we draw the line though? Where's the line between funny and cute, like when I admire the Christmas lights and decorations, and being kofer batorah, like when I sing a Christmas carol cuz I like how it sounds, or pose by a Christmas tree, or even, gasp! say the word Christmas, instead of X-mas, cratsmach, or any other funny word that people use to avoid saying yoshkes name.
Chanukah is such a big holiday. It has so much light, and so much meaning. It should be special and separate, and holy, and a time to publicize, and learn, and grow, and be happy, and smile, and iceskate. And eat donuts and latkes and chocolate coins and play dreidel and light the menorah and spend time with family and laugh and love and learn and keep talking like this run-on sentance until you are so out of breath and you are ready to collapse just like your dreidel.
On a separate note: ever heard of drunk dreidel? I have presonally never played it, I haven't even played dreidel yet this year, but I do want to try it. Sounds like fun, even though I know that drinking isn't very chassidish for a Jewish maidel. Hello? Ever heard of orange juice?
Okay well I'm not a tree hugger, and I don't say yoshkes name, unless I'm talking about J-lovers, and how theyre wrong. And no, I don't really sing Christmas carols, unless they are playing in the mall, and I happen to sing along, don't ask me how I know the words. And G-d forbid will I buy a Christmas tree, besides the small one I bought for a dollar as a joke.
I'm a Jew, I'm a good Jew.
Happy Chanuka, I'm making donuts tomorrow!!! Any special orders need to be requested in advance. Other than that, anyone who wants a free donut and some good holiday cheer is welcome.
Raise your cup, say lechaim, and drink it dooooooown!!!
I'm having a family Chanukah party tomorrow, and I prepared gifts for a grabbag. It's supposed to be cute, nothing expensive, just chatchkelach like hand sanitizer, toe socks, a lint roller, pringles, markers, etc etc, you get my drift. Cute funny prizes.
Someone pointed out to me that Jews are not supposed to give presents on Chanuka. I'm not sure if that's true, and I'd like to see a source if there is one and anyone knows of it. I know we give money on the 5th night, believe me, I look forward to that tradition every year. That's when my father happily hands me money, and it's rightfully mine, as opposed to all the other times I use his credit card for things I need, and convince myself that he'll be okay with it.
Where do we draw the line though? Where's the line between funny and cute, like when I admire the Christmas lights and decorations, and being kofer batorah, like when I sing a Christmas carol cuz I like how it sounds, or pose by a Christmas tree, or even, gasp! say the word Christmas, instead of X-mas, cratsmach, or any other funny word that people use to avoid saying yoshkes name.
Chanukah is such a big holiday. It has so much light, and so much meaning. It should be special and separate, and holy, and a time to publicize, and learn, and grow, and be happy, and smile, and iceskate. And eat donuts and latkes and chocolate coins and play dreidel and light the menorah and spend time with family and laugh and love and learn and keep talking like this run-on sentance until you are so out of breath and you are ready to collapse just like your dreidel.
On a separate note: ever heard of drunk dreidel? I have presonally never played it, I haven't even played dreidel yet this year, but I do want to try it. Sounds like fun, even though I know that drinking isn't very chassidish for a Jewish maidel. Hello? Ever heard of orange juice?
Okay well I'm not a tree hugger, and I don't say yoshkes name, unless I'm talking about J-lovers, and how theyre wrong. And no, I don't really sing Christmas carols, unless they are playing in the mall, and I happen to sing along, don't ask me how I know the words. And G-d forbid will I buy a Christmas tree, besides the small one I bought for a dollar as a joke.
I'm a Jew, I'm a good Jew.
Happy Chanuka, I'm making donuts tomorrow!!! Any special orders need to be requested in advance. Other than that, anyone who wants a free donut and some good holiday cheer is welcome.
Raise your cup, say lechaim, and drink it dooooooown!!!
Sunday, December 13, 2009
chanukah monologue (2nd night)
You might think I'd give over a sicha, in honor of chanukah,
but I'm not gonna talk about that, in my monologue.
Maybe I'd tell you about my boring shabbos, and how long I slept,
but I'm not gonna talk about that, in my monologue.
I'd speak about the menorah, and it's meaning and importance,
but I don't feel like talking about that, in my monologue.
I have to be so careful not to blow out the candles every time I leave the house,
but I'm not gonna talk about that, in my monologue.
my mama made greacy latkes, and bought over a dozen donuts,
but who wants to talk about that, in my monologue.
I'd tell you about the movie I saw, and how it freaked me out and I really didn't like it,
but I'm not gonna talk about that, in my monologue.
I feel like having a good cry, but I'd equally laugh as hard if I found something worth laughing at,
but I'm not gonna talk about feelings, in my monologue.
I can't believe it's chanukah, as I do every year, and then it passes so fast and then its over and I missed out,
but I'm not gonna mention that, in my monologue.
I have so much to say, and so much to tell you,
but I'm not gonna say any of it, in my monologue.
(If the name Taylor Swift rings a bell, then you are correct for thinking that. And no I don't have security guards. But I didn't say lalala hahaha, plus, she didn't say anything about Chanukah. )
If this was a diary, I would reveal so much more, but alas, 'tis not. So that's all for tnite folks. Plus, if it was a diary, I'd start off, dear diary...
Okay, let's try again:
Dear Lucy...
(that's as far as I got. gnite.)
but I'm not gonna talk about that, in my monologue.
Maybe I'd tell you about my boring shabbos, and how long I slept,
but I'm not gonna talk about that, in my monologue.
I'd speak about the menorah, and it's meaning and importance,
but I don't feel like talking about that, in my monologue.
I have to be so careful not to blow out the candles every time I leave the house,
but I'm not gonna talk about that, in my monologue.
my mama made greacy latkes, and bought over a dozen donuts,
but who wants to talk about that, in my monologue.
I'd tell you about the movie I saw, and how it freaked me out and I really didn't like it,
but I'm not gonna talk about that, in my monologue.
I feel like having a good cry, but I'd equally laugh as hard if I found something worth laughing at,
but I'm not gonna talk about feelings, in my monologue.
I can't believe it's chanukah, as I do every year, and then it passes so fast and then its over and I missed out,
but I'm not gonna mention that, in my monologue.
I have so much to say, and so much to tell you,
but I'm not gonna say any of it, in my monologue.
(If the name Taylor Swift rings a bell, then you are correct for thinking that. And no I don't have security guards. But I didn't say lalala hahaha, plus, she didn't say anything about Chanukah. )
If this was a diary, I would reveal so much more, but alas, 'tis not. So that's all for tnite folks. Plus, if it was a diary, I'd start off, dear diary...
Okay, let's try again:
Dear Lucy...
(that's as far as I got. gnite.)
Friday, December 11, 2009
Happy Hanukkah!
Check this out. An awesome video.
Of course, like all Jewish songs, (or most of them. or a lot of them.) the tune is taken from a song called 'hey ya' by a non Jewish band called 'Outkast.'But that seems to be irrelevant. Enjoy the video.
Here's to latkes and donuts, chanuka gelt and chocolate coins, lots and lots of oily foods, dreidel, menorah lighting, and of course, the miracle of chanukah, the festival of lights.
8 days, my friends. 8 days.
Of course, like all Jewish songs, (or most of them. or a lot of them.) the tune is taken from a song called 'hey ya' by a non Jewish band called 'Outkast.'But that seems to be irrelevant. Enjoy the video.
Here's to latkes and donuts, chanuka gelt and chocolate coins, lots and lots of oily foods, dreidel, menorah lighting, and of course, the miracle of chanukah, the festival of lights.
8 days, my friends. 8 days.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
How chassidish are you
1) What shape are you?
a. circle
b. square
c. triangle
2) What color are you?
a. red
b. orange
c. green
3) How chassidish are you?
a. ultra
b. moderate
c. not at all
4) What word best defines you?
a. holy/ spiritual
b. learned
c. curious
Why would you let people define you? When someone asks me, 'so is she chassidish'? I think of a box. I hate the idea of putting someone in a box, labeling them.
I like the color green. And orange. I like to hang out with friends, and have a good time. I like to read books, and watch an occasional movie.
Do you drink? Do you hang out with guys? Do you wear a kippa? Does your skirt cover your knees?
Does it matter?
I am well aware that being chassidish goes hand in hand with simple basic halacha, and torah. But don't try to define me. Don't try to put me in a box, with all the other lumps.
In my opinion, the only one that matters is G-d. I will answer to Him at the end of the day. Not you, or you, or you.
Labels are stupid and misleading. So let me tell you this:
My name is Altie. I am not chassidish. I am a good Jew, who loves G-d, and tries to do what He wants. If I occasionally err, (or more than that) that is between Him and me.
My relationship with the Rebbe is my business, not yours.
And stop trying to label me, cuz all you are doing is limiting me. And I hate that.
Be who you want to be. Don't be who someone else thinks you should be.
a. circle
b. square
c. triangle
2) What color are you?
a. red
b. orange
c. green
3) How chassidish are you?
a. ultra
b. moderate
c. not at all
4) What word best defines you?
a. holy/ spiritual
b. learned
c. curious
Why would you let people define you? When someone asks me, 'so is she chassidish'? I think of a box. I hate the idea of putting someone in a box, labeling them.
I like the color green. And orange. I like to hang out with friends, and have a good time. I like to read books, and watch an occasional movie.
Do you drink? Do you hang out with guys? Do you wear a kippa? Does your skirt cover your knees?
Does it matter?
I am well aware that being chassidish goes hand in hand with simple basic halacha, and torah. But don't try to define me. Don't try to put me in a box, with all the other lumps.
In my opinion, the only one that matters is G-d. I will answer to Him at the end of the day. Not you, or you, or you.
Labels are stupid and misleading. So let me tell you this:
My name is Altie. I am not chassidish. I am a good Jew, who loves G-d, and tries to do what He wants. If I occasionally err, (or more than that) that is between Him and me.
My relationship with the Rebbe is my business, not yours.
And stop trying to label me, cuz all you are doing is limiting me. And I hate that.
Be who you want to be. Don't be who someone else thinks you should be.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
For math geeks
Easy:
2X=24
Harder:
3X+4X-10=35
Hardest:
7X²+3X+5-2X²=18
Oh but don't worry, it'll get harder.
That's like saying 2+2 is easy, 2x2 is hard, and 2/2 is harder. Really?
I hate slow people. (poo poo poo I didn't mean that.)
2X=24
Harder:
3X+4X-10=35
Hardest:
7X²+3X+5-2X²=18
Oh but don't worry, it'll get harder.
That's like saying 2+2 is easy, 2x2 is hard, and 2/2 is harder. Really?
I hate slow people. (poo poo poo I didn't mean that.)
On Ahavas yisroel, and fish
Behashgacha pratis, I heard part of a farbrengin on the auspicious day of yud tes kislev. I will tell you about what I remember.
Rabbi Jacobson was talking about the concept of kiddush, and seudah. (The blessing over the cup of wine, and the actual meal, on Shabbos.) The word kiddush comes from Kadosh, meaning holy, or sanctity. First we must sanctify, and then we can have the physical meal. They must come hand in hand.
But unfortunately, some Jews distort the meaning of holy. They forget G-d, the second they are done with kiddush. When it comes to the physical aspect of yidishkeit, they are kalt, and forget the basic principle of 'veahavta leraiacha kamocha'.
A story:
There was once a rich miser. (Isn't that how all stories start off). He didn't want to share his fortune with anyone. One time, a beggar came knocking at his door. The man was starving, and hadn't eaten in days. He begged the miser for a little bit of food to satisfy his hunger. The miser refused saying, go down the road to Chabad, they can help you. (Okay, Rabbi Jacobson said chabad, but it could have been any Jewish shul or whatever. The point was, he didn't want to help a Jew out.)
The beggar said, I'm too weak, if I try to move, I will surely die. Maybe you have some leftover food in the garbage that I can have, please, he begged weakly. Oh, the garbage, thought the miser. Sure, why not. And he gave him a piece of salty smelly fish that was in the garbage for awhile. The man hungrily ate it, and then turned to leave.
Of course, he collapsed, and was taken to the hospital. (Or whatever they had in whichever time this occurred.)
The miser came home and said to his wife, I have a mitzvah to do! Remember our guest, the one I gave food to? He fell ill. Now I can do the mitzvah of bikkur cholim, visiting the sick. So happily he went, to the hospital.
The next day the miser said to his wife, I have good news! Our guest has passed away. Now I can do the great mitzvah of escorting the dead. And off he went to do a mitzvah.
The next day he said to his wife, wife! Now I have another mitzvah, paying a shiva call (condolence) to the son of the man who passed away.
The next day the miser said to his wife, so happily, look how many mitzvos I did! I helped a poor man out, I visited the sick, I escorted the dead, and comforted the mourning. Four great mitzvot that came about, all from one little smelly piece of fish from the garbage!
Go figure. This story made me disgusted, and I thought, what an idiot this guy is. And that, on top of being a mean miserly person.
It makes me sad to see that. How can you daven, pray to G-d, and yet refuse to give a starving man food? Of course, this story is a bit drastic, and hopefully there are no starving men around today, and if there are, hopefully kind people help them out.
But think about it: a ger once asked Rabbi Akiva to teach him the whole Torah, and he answered, 'Veahavta leraiacha kamocha, ze klal gadol batorah!' Never forget that. What does it matter if you make a beautiful, shining, loud, lebedik, emotional, holy kiddush, if right after you are gonna spit in G-d's face, and refuse a Jew in need? They must come hand in hand.
I am tempted to say, 'don't do kiddush at all, don't daven, don't do anything holy, if that's how you act.' But of course, our job is to elevate the physical onto a spiritual level. So say kiddush, just make sure that it influences all other aspects of your life too.
On a positive note: 'men darf ton a yid a toive'. Says the Baal Shem Tov, a Jew comes down to this world for 70, 80 years, for the sole purpose of helping out a fellow Jew, in gashmiyut, and specifically, in ruchniyut.
Go do some good. The world needs you. Ya, you.
Rabbi Jacobson was talking about the concept of kiddush, and seudah. (The blessing over the cup of wine, and the actual meal, on Shabbos.) The word kiddush comes from Kadosh, meaning holy, or sanctity. First we must sanctify, and then we can have the physical meal. They must come hand in hand.
But unfortunately, some Jews distort the meaning of holy. They forget G-d, the second they are done with kiddush. When it comes to the physical aspect of yidishkeit, they are kalt, and forget the basic principle of 'veahavta leraiacha kamocha'.
A story:
There was once a rich miser. (Isn't that how all stories start off). He didn't want to share his fortune with anyone. One time, a beggar came knocking at his door. The man was starving, and hadn't eaten in days. He begged the miser for a little bit of food to satisfy his hunger. The miser refused saying, go down the road to Chabad, they can help you. (Okay, Rabbi Jacobson said chabad, but it could have been any Jewish shul or whatever. The point was, he didn't want to help a Jew out.)
The beggar said, I'm too weak, if I try to move, I will surely die. Maybe you have some leftover food in the garbage that I can have, please, he begged weakly. Oh, the garbage, thought the miser. Sure, why not. And he gave him a piece of salty smelly fish that was in the garbage for awhile. The man hungrily ate it, and then turned to leave.
Of course, he collapsed, and was taken to the hospital. (Or whatever they had in whichever time this occurred.)
The miser came home and said to his wife, I have a mitzvah to do! Remember our guest, the one I gave food to? He fell ill. Now I can do the mitzvah of bikkur cholim, visiting the sick. So happily he went, to the hospital.
The next day the miser said to his wife, I have good news! Our guest has passed away. Now I can do the great mitzvah of escorting the dead. And off he went to do a mitzvah.
The next day he said to his wife, wife! Now I have another mitzvah, paying a shiva call (condolence) to the son of the man who passed away.
The next day the miser said to his wife, so happily, look how many mitzvos I did! I helped a poor man out, I visited the sick, I escorted the dead, and comforted the mourning. Four great mitzvot that came about, all from one little smelly piece of fish from the garbage!
Go figure. This story made me disgusted, and I thought, what an idiot this guy is. And that, on top of being a mean miserly person.
It makes me sad to see that. How can you daven, pray to G-d, and yet refuse to give a starving man food? Of course, this story is a bit drastic, and hopefully there are no starving men around today, and if there are, hopefully kind people help them out.
But think about it: a ger once asked Rabbi Akiva to teach him the whole Torah, and he answered, 'Veahavta leraiacha kamocha, ze klal gadol batorah!' Never forget that. What does it matter if you make a beautiful, shining, loud, lebedik, emotional, holy kiddush, if right after you are gonna spit in G-d's face, and refuse a Jew in need? They must come hand in hand.
I am tempted to say, 'don't do kiddush at all, don't daven, don't do anything holy, if that's how you act.' But of course, our job is to elevate the physical onto a spiritual level. So say kiddush, just make sure that it influences all other aspects of your life too.
On a positive note: 'men darf ton a yid a toive'. Says the Baal Shem Tov, a Jew comes down to this world for 70, 80 years, for the sole purpose of helping out a fellow Jew, in gashmiyut, and specifically, in ruchniyut.
Go do some good. The world needs you. Ya, you.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Yud tes kislev
I promised you more about yud tes kislev, but I don't feel that I can do it justice. Tune in now to watch a live farbrengin, at Shmais.com by Rabbi Jacobson.
Leshana tova belimud hachassidus, ub'darchei hachassidus.
Leshana tova belimud hachassidus, ub'darchei hachassidus.
Some thoughts
I wish there was a way to measure how much a person will influence you.
A way to tell who will cherish you, and who will break your heart.
Who will trample you, and who will respect you.
To know who will be here temporarily, and who will stay with you forever.
Then maybe I would know how much energy to invest in each person.
But of course, there is no way to know.
So you must work hard, help everyone, care for each person,
love a lot, give everything you have,
and sometimes have everything thrown back in your face.
Have your heart broken into many many pieces, all in the name of love.
Life is cruel like that.
Or maybe, maybe, life is a learning game, and you become so much smarter through playing.
Ask not, what can you do for me, ask, what can I do for you.
Accept help when it is offered to you, and don't be too bone headed and full of pride to ask, when help is needed.
Don't measure a relationship by quantity, or how much you give or get,
measure it in quality, in laughs, in smiles, in hugs, and in kind words that are said.
Repay your debts, but be lax in demanding that from others. Perhaps they are unable to repay you at the moment.
Look for opportunities to give, and you will receive so much more in return.
Be friends to many, but have few of your own.
Disclaimer: I cannot say that I have put all of these into practice. In life, sometimes you must go through a situation in order to get hindsight, and become much wiser as a result. But luckily, G-d gives us the gift of foresight as well.
These are my thoughts. Feel free to add your own.
A way to tell who will cherish you, and who will break your heart.
Who will trample you, and who will respect you.
To know who will be here temporarily, and who will stay with you forever.
Then maybe I would know how much energy to invest in each person.
But of course, there is no way to know.
So you must work hard, help everyone, care for each person,
love a lot, give everything you have,
and sometimes have everything thrown back in your face.
Have your heart broken into many many pieces, all in the name of love.
Life is cruel like that.
Or maybe, maybe, life is a learning game, and you become so much smarter through playing.
Ask not, what can you do for me, ask, what can I do for you.
Accept help when it is offered to you, and don't be too bone headed and full of pride to ask, when help is needed.
Don't measure a relationship by quantity, or how much you give or get,
measure it in quality, in laughs, in smiles, in hugs, and in kind words that are said.
Repay your debts, but be lax in demanding that from others. Perhaps they are unable to repay you at the moment.
Look for opportunities to give, and you will receive so much more in return.
Be friends to many, but have few of your own.
Disclaimer: I cannot say that I have put all of these into practice. In life, sometimes you must go through a situation in order to get hindsight, and become much wiser as a result. But luckily, G-d gives us the gift of foresight as well.
These are my thoughts. Feel free to add your own.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
It's slushing out!!!!!
I can hardly call this snow. It's more of a rain, with some snowflakes mixed in, which leads me to give it the name, slush. It's slushing out!
Summer is definitely over, as is fall. My front steps are strewn with fallen leaves that everyone (ya, me included) was too lazy to sweep up, then it rained and they turned into wet clumps, and they are still sitting there calling 'help, help!' but no one cares. Someone had the gall to ask me why no one cleaned our steps, and I rolled my eyes. Like, I can use my time for much better things then sweeping up leaves and stuffing them in a garbage back. And anyway, the snow will cover it soon, and then it'll all be good.
Tonight is a night to curl up with a mug of hot chocolate, with little marshmellow floating on top. Or tea, for our British folk. It is a night to stay indoors, read a good book, or watch a good movie.
The times, they are changing! And how. This week is gonna be the first light of Chanukah! It is so exciting, I love this time of year. It always brings to mind a snow globe, filled with white trees, and lots of glitter for fake snow, and a pond, and ice skating, and of course, lots of pretty lights, in all colors. I wanna drive down the street and take it all in.
Tonight is a yom tov. Mention of it here does not do it justice. It needs it's own post. It needs a farbrengin, and learning of a sicha. It needs hachlatos, and perhaps a visit to the ohel, and maybe, if you're lucky, a call to the mashpia.
Tonight is Yud Tes Kislev, the 19th day in the hebrew month of kislev. This day marks the beginning of Chabad Chassidus. It is a victory, and a triumph. I will iy''h post more about it tomorrow.
Gut yom tov! And enjoy the slush!
Summer is definitely over, as is fall. My front steps are strewn with fallen leaves that everyone (ya, me included) was too lazy to sweep up, then it rained and they turned into wet clumps, and they are still sitting there calling 'help, help!' but no one cares. Someone had the gall to ask me why no one cleaned our steps, and I rolled my eyes. Like, I can use my time for much better things then sweeping up leaves and stuffing them in a garbage back. And anyway, the snow will cover it soon, and then it'll all be good.
Tonight is a night to curl up with a mug of hot chocolate, with little marshmellow floating on top. Or tea, for our British folk. It is a night to stay indoors, read a good book, or watch a good movie.
The times, they are changing! And how. This week is gonna be the first light of Chanukah! It is so exciting, I love this time of year. It always brings to mind a snow globe, filled with white trees, and lots of glitter for fake snow, and a pond, and ice skating, and of course, lots of pretty lights, in all colors. I wanna drive down the street and take it all in.
Tonight is a yom tov. Mention of it here does not do it justice. It needs it's own post. It needs a farbrengin, and learning of a sicha. It needs hachlatos, and perhaps a visit to the ohel, and maybe, if you're lucky, a call to the mashpia.
Tonight is Yud Tes Kislev, the 19th day in the hebrew month of kislev. This day marks the beginning of Chabad Chassidus. It is a victory, and a triumph. I will iy''h post more about it tomorrow.
Gut yom tov! And enjoy the slush!
Friday, December 4, 2009
The jokes on me
"A man tracht, un gut lacht."
It's funny how that works. G-d is up there right now, and He must be laughing at how funny it is. But I don't find it funny. Nope.
It's funny how that works. G-d is up there right now, and He must be laughing at how funny it is. But I don't find it funny. Nope.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Random stufff
My Mama's talking about me. Again. She says it's her right, being that I'm her child. Yadayada. Well the good part is, she makes me sound like an awesome person. 'Oh yes, she's an excellent writer. Oh yes, she knows computers. Oh ya, she's really smart.' I drew the line when she offered to call up a person I had an interview with, and tell them to hire me. No thanks, Mother.
Last night I made a midnight pie run for a friend of mine. In the rain. Cuz a girl must have her pie, and I'm a good person. And I didn't even make the pie, my mother did. And when the friend asked for the recipe my mother laughed and said, 'you buy the pie crust, you put the filling in, you put another pie crust on top, voila!' But I made a girl very happy, so I'll put that on my list of good deeds for the day.
I went on a drive with someone as a favor. She was nervous, cuz it was an unfamiliar area. On the way back, we were driving through a very narrow street, and I cringed cuz we were getting very close to the parked cars. But I kept my mouth shut, cuz no one likes a backseat driver. And it was a rental, so I figured, if we hit a car, it wasn't such a big deal. Except I would be on the side of the car that would get hit. Ya, good thing we didn't crash.
Today I made soup. It's a pea soup with vegetables, and it tastes really good. Everyone is invited to my house for some soup and inspiration. I'll provide the soup, and you supply the inspiration.
Yud tes kislev is coming up. I should do something for it, but I don't know what. Any ideas?
Last night I made a midnight pie run for a friend of mine. In the rain. Cuz a girl must have her pie, and I'm a good person. And I didn't even make the pie, my mother did. And when the friend asked for the recipe my mother laughed and said, 'you buy the pie crust, you put the filling in, you put another pie crust on top, voila!' But I made a girl very happy, so I'll put that on my list of good deeds for the day.
I went on a drive with someone as a favor. She was nervous, cuz it was an unfamiliar area. On the way back, we were driving through a very narrow street, and I cringed cuz we were getting very close to the parked cars. But I kept my mouth shut, cuz no one likes a backseat driver. And it was a rental, so I figured, if we hit a car, it wasn't such a big deal. Except I would be on the side of the car that would get hit. Ya, good thing we didn't crash.
Today I made soup. It's a pea soup with vegetables, and it tastes really good. Everyone is invited to my house for some soup and inspiration. I'll provide the soup, and you supply the inspiration.
Yud tes kislev is coming up. I should do something for it, but I don't know what. Any ideas?
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
The road to hell is paved with good intentions
You wake up in the morning with a song in your heart, thinking today is gonna be the day. Today you will conquer the world. Today, you will do good, you will make it happen, you will change the world.
And then you go to sleep dejected, because you didn't even try.
I was gonna go to a neighbor's wedding, but I didn't, because I came back late from class. I was gonna pay my teacher a shiva call, but I didn't, because I excused myself saying that I didn't know her that well.
I was gonna do so many things. Like learn a new language. And travel the world. Make a discovery. Become a volunteer at a soup kitchen. Work with disabled children. Donate blood. Ride a motorcycle. Meet my favorite actor.
And now, 71 years later, I find myself at 90. And the only thing on that list I did was learn French. Now I know the numbers from 1-10, and the days of the week.
I'm joking, of course. I am only 19. Thank G-d I have my whole life ahead of me, and despite my brother's claim that anyone who ever became famous did it before they hit 20, I know I still have a chance.
Okay let's try this: make yourself a list of the top 20 things you want to attempt or accomplish before you turn ____. I would put the range at 5 years. And look at it every once in awhile, and encourage yourself to do them.
If that includes getting a tattoo, or shaving your head, sky diving, or going on an archaeological dig, meeting the president, or running naked in the street, then by all means, include it on your list. Just make sure to put that very low down, cuz you might never actually get to it.
Be creative, be true to yourself. Write stuff down that you know in your heart you want to do, but would never admit to anyone. Like if you want to become a chef, but you think all your friends would think of you as a sissy.
At the end of the day, you don't want any regrets. So start now, and turn all your intentions into actualization.
Do it! (That was supposed to be said with a very scary face, like when I want my little brother to do what I say.) Get off the couch people!
And then you go to sleep dejected, because you didn't even try.
I was gonna go to a neighbor's wedding, but I didn't, because I came back late from class. I was gonna pay my teacher a shiva call, but I didn't, because I excused myself saying that I didn't know her that well.
I was gonna do so many things. Like learn a new language. And travel the world. Make a discovery. Become a volunteer at a soup kitchen. Work with disabled children. Donate blood. Ride a motorcycle. Meet my favorite actor.
And now, 71 years later, I find myself at 90. And the only thing on that list I did was learn French. Now I know the numbers from 1-10, and the days of the week.
I'm joking, of course. I am only 19. Thank G-d I have my whole life ahead of me, and despite my brother's claim that anyone who ever became famous did it before they hit 20, I know I still have a chance.
Okay let's try this: make yourself a list of the top 20 things you want to attempt or accomplish before you turn ____. I would put the range at 5 years. And look at it every once in awhile, and encourage yourself to do them.
If that includes getting a tattoo, or shaving your head, sky diving, or going on an archaeological dig, meeting the president, or running naked in the street, then by all means, include it on your list. Just make sure to put that very low down, cuz you might never actually get to it.
Be creative, be true to yourself. Write stuff down that you know in your heart you want to do, but would never admit to anyone. Like if you want to become a chef, but you think all your friends would think of you as a sissy.
At the end of the day, you don't want any regrets. So start now, and turn all your intentions into actualization.
Do it! (That was supposed to be said with a very scary face, like when I want my little brother to do what I say.) Get off the couch people!
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Why don't you just ask
Take my words at face value, and try not to read into them so much. Usually when I say something, I mean it. Unless it's when you ask me 'How are you' and I say I'm fine, when I'm really not, but I need you to prod me to tell you what's on my mind. Or when you ask me what's wrong, and I say, nothing, but I just want you to hug me and tell me to stop lying to you.
Yes, wouldn't it be great to live in a universe where women just said what they meant, and meant what they said, instead of torturing their men to try to figure it out? And G-d forbid should the man get it wrong, he knows where he is gonna sleep tonight.
It's funny though. Sometimes people just assume stuff. And I wonder, why don't you just ask me? Ask me for a ride, instead of assuming that I would refuse. Ask me if I want to hang out with you, before deciding I would say no.
Ask me what I mean when you don't understand, instead of making it up by yourself, and getting it completely wrong.
Ask me what my opinion is on something, before deciding that I wouldn't understand, and I don't have an opinion at all.
Ask me what I want for my birthday, instead of buying me nothing at all. (lol. That was a joke, don't worry, my birthday isn't for another few months.)
I know that every persons mind works differently. I know that no two humans have the same thoughts at the same time, or the exact same feelings on the same event. I know that whatever goes on in my vast brain is not the same as the next person.
When I react negatively to a piece of news, you may be happy about it. Or vice versa.
And for that reason, you should ask, instead of assuming. There's a joke about the word assume, it makes an ass out of you and me.
So why don't you try it. Next time you want to know how I'm feeling, or what I'm thinking, ask me. I have so much to tell you, so many thoughts to share, if only you asked, and really wanted to know.
And if I disappoint you- well that's your problem.
Yes, wouldn't it be great to live in a universe where women just said what they meant, and meant what they said, instead of torturing their men to try to figure it out? And G-d forbid should the man get it wrong, he knows where he is gonna sleep tonight.
It's funny though. Sometimes people just assume stuff. And I wonder, why don't you just ask me? Ask me for a ride, instead of assuming that I would refuse. Ask me if I want to hang out with you, before deciding I would say no.
Ask me what I mean when you don't understand, instead of making it up by yourself, and getting it completely wrong.
Ask me what my opinion is on something, before deciding that I wouldn't understand, and I don't have an opinion at all.
Ask me what I want for my birthday, instead of buying me nothing at all. (lol. That was a joke, don't worry, my birthday isn't for another few months.)
I know that every persons mind works differently. I know that no two humans have the same thoughts at the same time, or the exact same feelings on the same event. I know that whatever goes on in my vast brain is not the same as the next person.
When I react negatively to a piece of news, you may be happy about it. Or vice versa.
And for that reason, you should ask, instead of assuming. There's a joke about the word assume, it makes an ass out of you and me.
So why don't you try it. Next time you want to know how I'm feeling, or what I'm thinking, ask me. I have so much to tell you, so many thoughts to share, if only you asked, and really wanted to know.
And if I disappoint you- well that's your problem.
Untitled
Sometimes, you can say exactly how you are feeling.
But there are times that you need someone else to say it for you.
Maybe it's a bumper sticker that captures your thoughts exactly. Other times, it is a particular song you like, that explains what's in your heart. Or perhaps a poem.
And then there are the times that you just keep quiet, because words are not enough.
But there are times that you need someone else to say it for you.
Maybe it's a bumper sticker that captures your thoughts exactly. Other times, it is a particular song you like, that explains what's in your heart. Or perhaps a poem.
And then there are the times that you just keep quiet, because words are not enough.
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Coming out of the closet
I wish it were still so simple, like when I was seven, and it was a non isssue. Back then, it wasn't something you thought about. It never became a group discussion, I didn't even know what the word 'opinion' meant until I was maybe 9.
We used to sing this song. It was in yidish, and it went something like 'Moshiach is already here, just 'efen oyf di egelach' open up your eyes. And then something about polishing your buttons. It always brought to mind an image of a row of soldiers standing pin straight, not moving an inch, with gleaming buttons in maybe gold or silver. It was a feeling, a good feeling. If we did just one more good deed, Moshoach would be here. We were taught a love for Chabad, a love for the Rebbe, a love for yidishkeit.
Then I grew up. Then I became confused. Then they tried to brainwash me, whoever 'they' may be.
I used to sing yechi. But then someone explained to me what it meant, and then I stopped singing it. (I'm not discussing that.)
I never really understood the arguments between the group that called themselves 'meshichist', and the opposite one, called the 'anti-meshichist.' For all intents and purposes, my family is 'neutral', and that's how I wished to remain.
I didn't even realize how bad it was until I visited another high school. I was in the kitchen in the dorm, and this girl says to me, as she's making her scrambled eggs, 'so are you like, a mish, or an anti?' all casual like that. I gave her a strange look and answered, 'I'm neutral.' Which seemed to please her.
I'm confused. Why do people talk about it, as if it's an article of clothing, or as if we are discussing the weather outside? 'Oh ya, it's a sunny day out. And uhu, I heard it's gonna snow.' The same way they say, 'I think the Rebbe is Moshiach, so what do you think? And does your family say yechi?'
What does it really mean?
I don't know. I honestly have no idea. I think this very issue in chabad is what may push people away, make a lot of people confused, and form half or more of all the disputes among us. And why? Because you have different beliefs then your neighbors? Is that a reason not to talk to them, or better yet, not allow your daughter to marry their son?
Last night I was in Manhattan, hanging out with my friends. One of them said 'look!', and there they were. The 'Yellow Flaggers'. You may have heard of them. Or maybe not. They are they chabadnikim, mostly Israelis, who wear yellow flag pins on their lapels, and try to get everyone else to do the same; who wave the yellow flag for all they are worth, in 770, by simchat bais hashueva, in public places, such as Manhattan, on mivtzoyim. You get my drift.
On the one hand, I thought, there are those crazy Israelis. That thought was closely followed by 'they are mine. Those are my people, my brothers, my bocherim!' So we went over to watch them dance.
There was a guy standing next to me, and he said, 'they suck. These guys come here every week, and all they want is money.' But he added, 'and they are the best street performers ever.' Then he gave them money. That made me feel better, but what he said still upset me. Little did he know, I am one of 'them'. He just insulted me, how rude!
Don't ak me what I believe, because sometimes I'm not sure.
I am first and foremost a Jew. I love G-d. Despite what you may think, that is not interdependant on whether or not I follow all his rules.
Next: I am Chabad. I am proud of it. I love the Rebbe. I believe Gimmel Tamuz happened. I hurts me to think about it, and to talk about it. It is confusing, like how can a Rebbe, my Rebbe, leave us? Okay, I know he didn't leave, he is still here, but then, why can't I see him? That is the childish way in which I think. And I refuse to accept it.
I hesitate to say this, because I may very well be stoned for it (I'm only half joking.) I believe the Rebbe is Moshiach. I don't have to explain it. A belief is intrinsic.
You know how you have the right to insult your own family as much as you want, but the second someone else starts saying the very insults you said, you get mad and want to punch them? (Or is that just me?) That is how I feel. I will not say that I know everything for certain. I know I am confused and unsure about some stuff. I know I disagree with some stuff, and with the way that some Lubavitchers go about it.
But watch it buster, because the second you try to insult them, you are insulting ME, and that is a very fine line to cross.
Ok wow. Did I ever say that I hate politics? I hate arguments. Maybe I should just keep my head in the sand, instead of trying to discuss it. Cuz honestly, I don't care to hear what some people have to say. But if you really want to, then go for it.
We used to sing this song. It was in yidish, and it went something like 'Moshiach is already here, just 'efen oyf di egelach' open up your eyes. And then something about polishing your buttons. It always brought to mind an image of a row of soldiers standing pin straight, not moving an inch, with gleaming buttons in maybe gold or silver. It was a feeling, a good feeling. If we did just one more good deed, Moshoach would be here. We were taught a love for Chabad, a love for the Rebbe, a love for yidishkeit.
Then I grew up. Then I became confused. Then they tried to brainwash me, whoever 'they' may be.
I used to sing yechi. But then someone explained to me what it meant, and then I stopped singing it. (I'm not discussing that.)
I never really understood the arguments between the group that called themselves 'meshichist', and the opposite one, called the 'anti-meshichist.' For all intents and purposes, my family is 'neutral', and that's how I wished to remain.
I didn't even realize how bad it was until I visited another high school. I was in the kitchen in the dorm, and this girl says to me, as she's making her scrambled eggs, 'so are you like, a mish, or an anti?' all casual like that. I gave her a strange look and answered, 'I'm neutral.' Which seemed to please her.
I'm confused. Why do people talk about it, as if it's an article of clothing, or as if we are discussing the weather outside? 'Oh ya, it's a sunny day out. And uhu, I heard it's gonna snow.' The same way they say, 'I think the Rebbe is Moshiach, so what do you think? And does your family say yechi?'
What does it really mean?
I don't know. I honestly have no idea. I think this very issue in chabad is what may push people away, make a lot of people confused, and form half or more of all the disputes among us. And why? Because you have different beliefs then your neighbors? Is that a reason not to talk to them, or better yet, not allow your daughter to marry their son?
Last night I was in Manhattan, hanging out with my friends. One of them said 'look!', and there they were. The 'Yellow Flaggers'. You may have heard of them. Or maybe not. They are they chabadnikim, mostly Israelis, who wear yellow flag pins on their lapels, and try to get everyone else to do the same; who wave the yellow flag for all they are worth, in 770, by simchat bais hashueva, in public places, such as Manhattan, on mivtzoyim. You get my drift.
On the one hand, I thought, there are those crazy Israelis. That thought was closely followed by 'they are mine. Those are my people, my brothers, my bocherim!' So we went over to watch them dance.
There was a guy standing next to me, and he said, 'they suck. These guys come here every week, and all they want is money.' But he added, 'and they are the best street performers ever.' Then he gave them money. That made me feel better, but what he said still upset me. Little did he know, I am one of 'them'. He just insulted me, how rude!
Don't ak me what I believe, because sometimes I'm not sure.
I am first and foremost a Jew. I love G-d. Despite what you may think, that is not interdependant on whether or not I follow all his rules.
Next: I am Chabad. I am proud of it. I love the Rebbe. I believe Gimmel Tamuz happened. I hurts me to think about it, and to talk about it. It is confusing, like how can a Rebbe, my Rebbe, leave us? Okay, I know he didn't leave, he is still here, but then, why can't I see him? That is the childish way in which I think. And I refuse to accept it.
I hesitate to say this, because I may very well be stoned for it (I'm only half joking.) I believe the Rebbe is Moshiach. I don't have to explain it. A belief is intrinsic.
You know how you have the right to insult your own family as much as you want, but the second someone else starts saying the very insults you said, you get mad and want to punch them? (Or is that just me?) That is how I feel. I will not say that I know everything for certain. I know I am confused and unsure about some stuff. I know I disagree with some stuff, and with the way that some Lubavitchers go about it.
But watch it buster, because the second you try to insult them, you are insulting ME, and that is a very fine line to cross.
Ok wow. Did I ever say that I hate politics? I hate arguments. Maybe I should just keep my head in the sand, instead of trying to discuss it. Cuz honestly, I don't care to hear what some people have to say. But if you really want to, then go for it.
Kids
There's something about little kids that makes you smile. That makes you forgiving of every sin. That makes your heart melt.
Think about it. You are coming home from a tiring day at work, and you see a little girl walking with her mother. She has an angelic pretty face, and two pigtails in her gorgeous hair. You can't help but smile, and for those few minutes, you feel at peace.
Maybe it's because they remind you of a time of innocence, of naivete, of no worries or stress. Maybe it is because they bring you back to a time when you were happy, and just enjoyed life.
But whatever it is, kids can turn even the biggest sour grouch into a besotted fool with a silly grin on their face.
They make you laugh at the silly antics they get up to. We oooh and aaah over how cute they are. We want to cuddle with them, hold them, and 'eat them up.'
At other times, kids can make you wish you were never born. You want to slap them (G-d forbid!) and tell them to 'grow up' and act their age. Except that's exactly what they are doing.
We do stupid stuff, and tell them 'don't do what I did' and then get mad when they do. We don't understand why they don't just listen to us, why they have to cry so much, and why they can't just behave.
And this is all when they are little. Then they grow up and turn into angsty teenagers, and make you wish to G-d you never had kids.
Kids. You can't live with them, you can't live without them. I can only imagine what my parents are going through.
Think about it. You are coming home from a tiring day at work, and you see a little girl walking with her mother. She has an angelic pretty face, and two pigtails in her gorgeous hair. You can't help but smile, and for those few minutes, you feel at peace.
Maybe it's because they remind you of a time of innocence, of naivete, of no worries or stress. Maybe it is because they bring you back to a time when you were happy, and just enjoyed life.
But whatever it is, kids can turn even the biggest sour grouch into a besotted fool with a silly grin on their face.
They make you laugh at the silly antics they get up to. We oooh and aaah over how cute they are. We want to cuddle with them, hold them, and 'eat them up.'
At other times, kids can make you wish you were never born. You want to slap them (G-d forbid!) and tell them to 'grow up' and act their age. Except that's exactly what they are doing.
We do stupid stuff, and tell them 'don't do what I did' and then get mad when they do. We don't understand why they don't just listen to us, why they have to cry so much, and why they can't just behave.
And this is all when they are little. Then they grow up and turn into angsty teenagers, and make you wish to G-d you never had kids.
Kids. You can't live with them, you can't live without them. I can only imagine what my parents are going through.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Happy thanksgiving, tes kislev, you know
You know how they say that the things that are hardest for you to do are usually the right decisions to make?
Well, they forgot to mention one small part: it hurts.
Why do I find myself alone in the car at 1 am, cruising the now silent streets? As the last party-goers are leaving, drunk, from their thanksgiving dinners, and the last of the homeless are finding places to sleep for the night, I'm roaming the city. Because I did something that was hard for me to do.
You know what? It felt good. Yes. But the after part is always hard, and leaves me thinking, now what?
Today I had a thanksgiving dinner with my friends. Ya ya, I know it's not our holiday, as little brother pointed out. 'Why are you celebrating a goyish holiday?' So I told him, we are not really celebrating, we are just eating turkey. What's wrong with that?
Okay, we cheated. The turkey was expensive, so instead we had sliced turkey breast, the deli kind. We had sweet potatoes, and regular potatoes, and salad and green beans and cranberry sauce, and compote, and pumpkin pie, and I brought the chips. Ya, kind of a stupid thing to bring, but my friend told me to, and I can take orders if I have to.
It was fun. So much fun. Just chilling with friends, drinking Smirnoff ice, which tastes exactly like soda, except if you have a few of them you get a happy light feeling. Which I never get from diet coke, no.
Which got me thinking: today was Tes kislev. Okay, DON'T ask me what special thing happened today, cuz I'd have to get up and check the calendar. (Okay just checked it. It's the Mitiler Rebbe's birthday and yartzeit, and tomorrow is his celebration of release from prison. I thought it had something to do with him. Not bad)
So why am I having a thanksgiving meal when I should be having a farbrengin? Even though our get together could have passed as a farbrengin, and we even said a lechaim. But am I that out of touch with my Jewish side that I forget the days in chabad?
I had an interview today for a job in Manhattan, great location. But the job itself is even greater. It is working for a Rabbi, being his assistant. In a Chabad house, called Chabad loft. It is an awesome place, really big and airy, with couches, and paintings on the walls. And a big picture of the Rebbe. I want the job, I think I would be good for it, and it will be good for me.
As I told my mother, maybe Chabad will mikarev me. (That was a joke.)
And yes, I made a decision, a good decision, that I hope with all my heart that I will stick to, and not break my resolve like I usually do. And I hope that G-d sees my efforts, and helps me out a bit, cuz not to place the blame or anything, but He put the stumbling blocks in front of me in the first place.
Oh ya, in 10 years from now, I will look back on this and laugh. And I will be grateful that I went through everything I did, because it will have made me a stronger person.
But right now, I'm not laughing, and I need to take my contacts out cuz my eyes are dry.
As Charley always says, 'Merry Shabbos!!'
Well, they forgot to mention one small part: it hurts.
Why do I find myself alone in the car at 1 am, cruising the now silent streets? As the last party-goers are leaving, drunk, from their thanksgiving dinners, and the last of the homeless are finding places to sleep for the night, I'm roaming the city. Because I did something that was hard for me to do.
You know what? It felt good. Yes. But the after part is always hard, and leaves me thinking, now what?
Today I had a thanksgiving dinner with my friends. Ya ya, I know it's not our holiday, as little brother pointed out. 'Why are you celebrating a goyish holiday?' So I told him, we are not really celebrating, we are just eating turkey. What's wrong with that?
Okay, we cheated. The turkey was expensive, so instead we had sliced turkey breast, the deli kind. We had sweet potatoes, and regular potatoes, and salad and green beans and cranberry sauce, and compote, and pumpkin pie, and I brought the chips. Ya, kind of a stupid thing to bring, but my friend told me to, and I can take orders if I have to.
It was fun. So much fun. Just chilling with friends, drinking Smirnoff ice, which tastes exactly like soda, except if you have a few of them you get a happy light feeling. Which I never get from diet coke, no.
Which got me thinking: today was Tes kislev. Okay, DON'T ask me what special thing happened today, cuz I'd have to get up and check the calendar. (Okay just checked it. It's the Mitiler Rebbe's birthday and yartzeit, and tomorrow is his celebration of release from prison. I thought it had something to do with him. Not bad)
So why am I having a thanksgiving meal when I should be having a farbrengin? Even though our get together could have passed as a farbrengin, and we even said a lechaim. But am I that out of touch with my Jewish side that I forget the days in chabad?
I had an interview today for a job in Manhattan, great location. But the job itself is even greater. It is working for a Rabbi, being his assistant. In a Chabad house, called Chabad loft. It is an awesome place, really big and airy, with couches, and paintings on the walls. And a big picture of the Rebbe. I want the job, I think I would be good for it, and it will be good for me.
As I told my mother, maybe Chabad will mikarev me. (That was a joke.)
And yes, I made a decision, a good decision, that I hope with all my heart that I will stick to, and not break my resolve like I usually do. And I hope that G-d sees my efforts, and helps me out a bit, cuz not to place the blame or anything, but He put the stumbling blocks in front of me in the first place.
Oh ya, in 10 years from now, I will look back on this and laugh. And I will be grateful that I went through everything I did, because it will have made me a stronger person.
But right now, I'm not laughing, and I need to take my contacts out cuz my eyes are dry.
As Charley always says, 'Merry Shabbos!!'
Thursday, November 26, 2009
The death penalty
This is a speech I gave for class. I think it was quite good. So did some other people. Read it, enjoy, feel free to comment.
Death penalty- con
I think the death penalty should be abolished. Whether it's a firing squad, electric chair, gas chamber, lethal injection, or hanging, it's barbaric to allow state-sanctioned murder before a crowd of people. We condemn people like Saddam Hussein when they murder their own people while we continue to do the same. The 8th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution prevents the use of "cruel and unusual punishment". Many would interpret the death penalty as violating this restriction.
What exactly do we mean when we say “death penalty“? Capital punishment, also dubbed the "death penalty," is the pre-meditated and planned taking of a human life by a government in response to a crime committed by that legally convicted person. In simple English, we are killing a killer.
Hence, there are many moral complexities of the death penalty.
Catholic Cardinal McCarrick, Archbishop of Washington, writes "...the death penalty diminishes all of us, increases disrespect for human life, and offers the tragic illusion that we can teach that killing is wrong by killing."
How can we use death as a lesson to others, to teach criminals not to kill? We teach young children that killing is bad. How then, can we condone the act of murder, even if we use it on someone who has committed murder himself?
As Catholic Sister Camille D’arienzo said, ‘all life, not only innocent life, is sacred.’ In addition, some people believe that to judge a man and put him to death is an attempt to play God. And since when is it our place to act as God? God grants us a certain amount of free choice, free will, and the power of judgment. We need to use it wisely and carefully. I don’t think it is man’s place to decide things such as life or death. That should be left entirely up to God.
In the Mishnah it states, “A Sanhedrin that puts a man to death once in seventy years is called destructive” (Mishnah, Makkoth 1:10).
In Jewish law it is permissible to use death as a form of punishment. But it was a very rare occurrence that they actually implemented it. And a beth din that did use the death penalty was considered to be corrupt.
Now we must ask: what purpose does the death penalty serve?
Is the purpose to remove from society someone who is incapable of rehabilitation? Is the purpose of the death penalty to deter others from committing murder? Is the purpose of the death penalty to punish the criminal? Is the purpose of the death penalty to take retribution on behalf of the victim?
These are all valid questions. The purpose may very well be the removal from society of someone who is incapable of changing his behavior. We cannot let a criminal loose, and let him kill again, can we? But what if this criminal repents, and he is no longer a threat? Where then, is our need to eliminate him?
The case of Stanley "Tookie" Williams illustrates this.
Mr. Williams, an author and Nobel Peace and Literature Prizes nominee who was put to death on December 13, 2005 by lethal injection by the state of California, brought capital punishment back into prominent public debate.
Mr. Williams was convicted of four murders committed in 1979, and sentenced to death.
Williams was the leader of a gang called the Crips. They were responsible for hundreds of murders. Circumstantial evidence against Williams left little doubt that he committed the four murders.
About five years after incarceration, Mr. Williams underwent a religious conversion and, as a result, authored many books and programs to promote peace and to fight gangs and gang violence. He was nominated five times for the Nobel Peace Prize and four times for the Nobel Literature Prize.
Mr. Williams' was a self-admitted life of crime and violence, followed by genuine redemption and a life of uniquely and unusually good works.
There also existed no doubt that Mr. Williams posed no further threat to society, and would contribute considerable good.
Therefore, carrying out the death penalty as his punishment seems detriment to our purpose. If the death penalty is used as a preventative method, to ensure that the defendant doesn’t commit anymore crime, we must bring the defense in Mr. William’s case, that he repented. He turned his life around in prison, and became a good person. Is that not what we want? And yet, he was needlessly killed.
Is the purpose to deter others from committing murder? To that we must answer: capital punishment causes contrary results. There is proof that in the days following an execution of a criminal on death row, there has been a raise in violent acts, not a drop. Because of the publicity of the death, criminals who are inclined to kill find more opportunity to do so. A public execution only serves to rile up society, and causes more deaths, not less. It does not, then, deter others from committing murder.
Some see death as the ultimate form of punishment. But this is not true. To a criminal who is facing a sentence of life in prison, death looks mightily good to him. Some inmates in prison try to kill themselves, as a form of escape from the hellish life they are living. Therefore, to make the criminal suffer to the utmost, we keep him alive, and make him live out the rest of his days locked in a cell. Physical bondage is not life at all. Death is an escape, whereas, a life sentence is punishment.
And what of our last argument, avenging the death of the victim? In Deuteronomy 32:43 it says, "Rejoice, O nations, with His people; For He will avenge the blood of His servants, And will render vengeance on His adversaries, And will atone for His land and His people." God will be the avenger. It is not up to man to avenge blood.
And to those who argue for the death penalty, seeing it as a form of closure to the families of the victim who was murdered, we answer him, by killing the killer, it does not bring the victim back, and all we are doing is eliminating another human being from this earth, whether or not he was a bad person.
There are lesser arguments that can be brought to argue for or against the death penalty, such as, the financial cost. One might think that an execution is costly. And although in the face of death, a discussion of money seems petty and irrelevant, here we have proof that it is cheaper to house a prisoner in jail for life, rather than kill him. One death sentence costs 2-5 times more than keeping that same criminal in prison for the rest of his life. Some prisoners sit on death row for 15-20 years, plus the cost of lawyers, and appeals, and legal procedures. Death is more costly.
And lastly, what about error? Is it not possible that we might come to kill an innocent person? Sure, we can never completely eliminate all uncertainty, but nowadays, it's about as close as you can get. DNA testing is over 99 percent effective. When a jury and a judge rule to put someone to death, they are almost 100% certain that he deserves to die for the crimes he committed. But while that is true, it should not be up to a jury of 12, and a human judge of flesh and blood, to decide the fate of a human life.
In the united states, this is a widely discussed topic. There are many people who are for the death penalty, and an equally great amount rallying against it, and to abolish it.
After all is said and done, I don’t think that the United States of America should use death as a form of punishment. We are a country that stands in front of the world, and everyone watches us to see what we will do. We should not send the message that to kill a killer is okay.
No more violence. No more death. Let’s end it now.
Death penalty- con
I think the death penalty should be abolished. Whether it's a firing squad, electric chair, gas chamber, lethal injection, or hanging, it's barbaric to allow state-sanctioned murder before a crowd of people. We condemn people like Saddam Hussein when they murder their own people while we continue to do the same. The 8th Amendment of the U.S. Constitution prevents the use of "cruel and unusual punishment". Many would interpret the death penalty as violating this restriction.
What exactly do we mean when we say “death penalty“? Capital punishment, also dubbed the "death penalty," is the pre-meditated and planned taking of a human life by a government in response to a crime committed by that legally convicted person. In simple English, we are killing a killer.
Hence, there are many moral complexities of the death penalty.
Catholic Cardinal McCarrick, Archbishop of Washington, writes "...the death penalty diminishes all of us, increases disrespect for human life, and offers the tragic illusion that we can teach that killing is wrong by killing."
How can we use death as a lesson to others, to teach criminals not to kill? We teach young children that killing is bad. How then, can we condone the act of murder, even if we use it on someone who has committed murder himself?
As Catholic Sister Camille D’arienzo said, ‘all life, not only innocent life, is sacred.’ In addition, some people believe that to judge a man and put him to death is an attempt to play God. And since when is it our place to act as God? God grants us a certain amount of free choice, free will, and the power of judgment. We need to use it wisely and carefully. I don’t think it is man’s place to decide things such as life or death. That should be left entirely up to God.
In the Mishnah it states, “A Sanhedrin that puts a man to death once in seventy years is called destructive” (Mishnah, Makkoth 1:10).
In Jewish law it is permissible to use death as a form of punishment. But it was a very rare occurrence that they actually implemented it. And a beth din that did use the death penalty was considered to be corrupt.
Now we must ask: what purpose does the death penalty serve?
Is the purpose to remove from society someone who is incapable of rehabilitation? Is the purpose of the death penalty to deter others from committing murder? Is the purpose of the death penalty to punish the criminal? Is the purpose of the death penalty to take retribution on behalf of the victim?
These are all valid questions. The purpose may very well be the removal from society of someone who is incapable of changing his behavior. We cannot let a criminal loose, and let him kill again, can we? But what if this criminal repents, and he is no longer a threat? Where then, is our need to eliminate him?
The case of Stanley "Tookie" Williams illustrates this.
Mr. Williams, an author and Nobel Peace and Literature Prizes nominee who was put to death on December 13, 2005 by lethal injection by the state of California, brought capital punishment back into prominent public debate.
Mr. Williams was convicted of four murders committed in 1979, and sentenced to death.
Williams was the leader of a gang called the Crips. They were responsible for hundreds of murders. Circumstantial evidence against Williams left little doubt that he committed the four murders.
About five years after incarceration, Mr. Williams underwent a religious conversion and, as a result, authored many books and programs to promote peace and to fight gangs and gang violence. He was nominated five times for the Nobel Peace Prize and four times for the Nobel Literature Prize.
Mr. Williams' was a self-admitted life of crime and violence, followed by genuine redemption and a life of uniquely and unusually good works.
There also existed no doubt that Mr. Williams posed no further threat to society, and would contribute considerable good.
Therefore, carrying out the death penalty as his punishment seems detriment to our purpose. If the death penalty is used as a preventative method, to ensure that the defendant doesn’t commit anymore crime, we must bring the defense in Mr. William’s case, that he repented. He turned his life around in prison, and became a good person. Is that not what we want? And yet, he was needlessly killed.
Is the purpose to deter others from committing murder? To that we must answer: capital punishment causes contrary results. There is proof that in the days following an execution of a criminal on death row, there has been a raise in violent acts, not a drop. Because of the publicity of the death, criminals who are inclined to kill find more opportunity to do so. A public execution only serves to rile up society, and causes more deaths, not less. It does not, then, deter others from committing murder.
Some see death as the ultimate form of punishment. But this is not true. To a criminal who is facing a sentence of life in prison, death looks mightily good to him. Some inmates in prison try to kill themselves, as a form of escape from the hellish life they are living. Therefore, to make the criminal suffer to the utmost, we keep him alive, and make him live out the rest of his days locked in a cell. Physical bondage is not life at all. Death is an escape, whereas, a life sentence is punishment.
And what of our last argument, avenging the death of the victim? In Deuteronomy 32:43 it says, "Rejoice, O nations, with His people; For He will avenge the blood of His servants, And will render vengeance on His adversaries, And will atone for His land and His people." God will be the avenger. It is not up to man to avenge blood.
And to those who argue for the death penalty, seeing it as a form of closure to the families of the victim who was murdered, we answer him, by killing the killer, it does not bring the victim back, and all we are doing is eliminating another human being from this earth, whether or not he was a bad person.
There are lesser arguments that can be brought to argue for or against the death penalty, such as, the financial cost. One might think that an execution is costly. And although in the face of death, a discussion of money seems petty and irrelevant, here we have proof that it is cheaper to house a prisoner in jail for life, rather than kill him. One death sentence costs 2-5 times more than keeping that same criminal in prison for the rest of his life. Some prisoners sit on death row for 15-20 years, plus the cost of lawyers, and appeals, and legal procedures. Death is more costly.
And lastly, what about error? Is it not possible that we might come to kill an innocent person? Sure, we can never completely eliminate all uncertainty, but nowadays, it's about as close as you can get. DNA testing is over 99 percent effective. When a jury and a judge rule to put someone to death, they are almost 100% certain that he deserves to die for the crimes he committed. But while that is true, it should not be up to a jury of 12, and a human judge of flesh and blood, to decide the fate of a human life.
In the united states, this is a widely discussed topic. There are many people who are for the death penalty, and an equally great amount rallying against it, and to abolish it.
After all is said and done, I don’t think that the United States of America should use death as a form of punishment. We are a country that stands in front of the world, and everyone watches us to see what we will do. We should not send the message that to kill a killer is okay.
No more violence. No more death. Let’s end it now.
What do you think
If a tree falls in a forest, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a noise?
Is a success truly a success if no one was around to see it? When a child learns how to walk, or do a new task for the first time, they run to show their parents. 'Look at me! Look what I can do!' right before they fall.
It's so important to a human to receive validation for their actions, or state of being. Yes, your smart. Yes, your pretty. If your confidence is shot to hell, it is good to hear these things. Some people like to hear them regardless, because they have a big ego.
I gave a speech today, for class. But I came early, and said it for the 1st class that the teacher gives, not my usual class with the familiar girls. Because my teacher thought we would be short on time. So no one in my class got to hear my speech, besides for the teacher.
I felt cheated, in a way. I wanted them to applaud me, tell me what a good job I did. The girls in the other class did that, but I don't even know them, so it didn't mean much.
We were finished all the speeches, and had 10 minutes to spare, so I asked the teacher if I could say mine again, so my classmates could hear it. Of course the answer was no.
My speech was great. Perhaps I'll put it up as a post. But it would have been nice to hear other people say good things about it.
So what is it about humans that makes them need compliments? Really, why?
Is a success truly a success if no one was around to see it? When a child learns how to walk, or do a new task for the first time, they run to show their parents. 'Look at me! Look what I can do!' right before they fall.
It's so important to a human to receive validation for their actions, or state of being. Yes, your smart. Yes, your pretty. If your confidence is shot to hell, it is good to hear these things. Some people like to hear them regardless, because they have a big ego.
I gave a speech today, for class. But I came early, and said it for the 1st class that the teacher gives, not my usual class with the familiar girls. Because my teacher thought we would be short on time. So no one in my class got to hear my speech, besides for the teacher.
I felt cheated, in a way. I wanted them to applaud me, tell me what a good job I did. The girls in the other class did that, but I don't even know them, so it didn't mean much.
We were finished all the speeches, and had 10 minutes to spare, so I asked the teacher if I could say mine again, so my classmates could hear it. Of course the answer was no.
My speech was great. Perhaps I'll put it up as a post. But it would have been nice to hear other people say good things about it.
So what is it about humans that makes them need compliments? Really, why?
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Gift horses
I wonder where the expression "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth" comes from. I know what it means. Don't question a good thing, appreciate it, etc. But who started it, and really, why not?? If I got a gift, I see nothing wrong with looking it in the mouth. Okay if it had a mouth. And not every gift, only the ones I am skeptical about.
When G-d gives me 'gifts', sometimes I find myself saying, okay thanks, but what's the catch? If I accept this from you, what bad thing will happen to me instead?
There's a new movie that just came out. It's called, The box. It is about a young couple who have the chance of making a million dollars, and all they have to do is open the box. Simple. But the downside is (if you can call it that) that someone they don't know, somewhere in the world, will die.
Ya, I think I would look the horse in the mouth then, and I don't think I would accept it. But that is a question of morals, a discussion I'll leave for another time.
I was talking to a friend. I told her something that happened. She was skeptical about it, while I was happy, and accepting. It is a question of perspectives, and how you look at it. I saw it as a good thing, and she saw 'stay away. Beware. Caution.'
Which got me thinking. Is it genuinely a good thing, like I originally thought? Or am I so naive, that I need an outsider to point out to me that it is not indeed as good as I thought it to be?
I want G-d to hand me life on a silver platter. I want a big wrapped box with a bow on top, and a roast with all the trimmings.
But that ain't never gonna happen. Even I'm not too stupid to think that.
So at the very least, I want to be able to accept it as a gift, and not be constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for the other foot to drop. Waiting for lightning to strike. Waiting for G-d to say, 'Haha, child, you thought I was gonna give you something good? Oh no, that was an illusion. I take it back."
So I say, look the gift horse in the mouth. If you like what you see, keep it. And if you don't, well what the heck, you are stuck with it, cuz I don't think G-d takes any refunds. And at the very least, you can use the horse as a rocking chair. Or something equally as usefull.
Lechaim! Here's to life, liberty, and the persuit of happiness. Friendship, clean horses mouths, and most importantly, clarity, to recognize a good thing when you see it.
*P.S. Just looked up gift horses. It has to do with the age of the teeth. Petty people, I should have known. A horse is a horse of course of course. Is it not?
When G-d gives me 'gifts', sometimes I find myself saying, okay thanks, but what's the catch? If I accept this from you, what bad thing will happen to me instead?
There's a new movie that just came out. It's called, The box. It is about a young couple who have the chance of making a million dollars, and all they have to do is open the box. Simple. But the downside is (if you can call it that) that someone they don't know, somewhere in the world, will die.
Ya, I think I would look the horse in the mouth then, and I don't think I would accept it. But that is a question of morals, a discussion I'll leave for another time.
I was talking to a friend. I told her something that happened. She was skeptical about it, while I was happy, and accepting. It is a question of perspectives, and how you look at it. I saw it as a good thing, and she saw 'stay away. Beware. Caution.'
Which got me thinking. Is it genuinely a good thing, like I originally thought? Or am I so naive, that I need an outsider to point out to me that it is not indeed as good as I thought it to be?
I want G-d to hand me life on a silver platter. I want a big wrapped box with a bow on top, and a roast with all the trimmings.
But that ain't never gonna happen. Even I'm not too stupid to think that.
So at the very least, I want to be able to accept it as a gift, and not be constantly looking over my shoulder, waiting for the other foot to drop. Waiting for lightning to strike. Waiting for G-d to say, 'Haha, child, you thought I was gonna give you something good? Oh no, that was an illusion. I take it back."
So I say, look the gift horse in the mouth. If you like what you see, keep it. And if you don't, well what the heck, you are stuck with it, cuz I don't think G-d takes any refunds. And at the very least, you can use the horse as a rocking chair. Or something equally as usefull.
Lechaim! Here's to life, liberty, and the persuit of happiness. Friendship, clean horses mouths, and most importantly, clarity, to recognize a good thing when you see it.
*P.S. Just looked up gift horses. It has to do with the age of the teeth. Petty people, I should have known. A horse is a horse of course of course. Is it not?
Monday, November 23, 2009
The City
I turn on the music and just sit in the car. It is late at night and I can't find a space. I park by a hydrant, hoping I won't get a ticket. But there is a cop on my block, so I wait for him to leave. It is after midnight. I want to go inside, I want to go to sleep, I want to eat something. But I am stuck here in my car, waiting for the cop to leave.
I chill. Put my seat back, enjoy the music. Wonder who else is up at this hour. I text my friend, she texts me back, I'm sick of that so I call her. But she is busy. Bummer.
Chillin. That's what they say. It's nice. But I wish I had someone to chill with, instead of just me and the music.
My song comes on, the one I like. I have a few of those. I sing along, as I am wont to do when I'm the only one in the car. It's calming.
Escape. People think of it as a bad thing. But I think it's healthy. To get away from everything for a little bit, give yourself space, time to think, or better yet, not think. So I went to The City. And there is only one City, with a capital T and C.
There was a big sign that said, UNTHINK. Ya, it spoke to me, that's what I was trying to do.
I walk through Time Square. The billboards and flashing lights make everything feel alive. There's an awesome vibrating feeling in the air, like you are a part of something big, you are creating history. The best part is, I feel it every time I go to Manhattan.
I call my father to ask him which way is Central park. Ya I'm like a guy in that way. No sense of direction whatsoever, and I hardly ever ask for help. My motto is, figure it out yourself. And if you can't, then you're an idiot. Oh well.
I headed towards the park. It was getting dark, and by the time I got there I decided it was just creepy enough and late enough that I shouldn't go in by myself. So instead I went to the apple store right near there. It is an AWESOME store. You walk in and there is just tooons of laptops and ipods everywhere, for you to try out. I am like salivating, even though I just bought a laptop. (Sorry sweety, I still like you.)
I listen to the music, and dream of buying an itouch. Ya, the one I want for Christmas. Oh well. At least I can check it out here, and enjoy it for a bit.
Next stop, Gap. Then H&M. I bought a hat, cuz I decided I must buy something if I'm in The City.
It's getting late. I had a great time chillin, I love going to The City. But my UNTHINK time is over. It's time to go back, to life, to everything.
It's just a subway ride away. I can go to The City to escape and UNTHINK anytime I want. Great feeling.
I chill. Put my seat back, enjoy the music. Wonder who else is up at this hour. I text my friend, she texts me back, I'm sick of that so I call her. But she is busy. Bummer.
Chillin. That's what they say. It's nice. But I wish I had someone to chill with, instead of just me and the music.
My song comes on, the one I like. I have a few of those. I sing along, as I am wont to do when I'm the only one in the car. It's calming.
Escape. People think of it as a bad thing. But I think it's healthy. To get away from everything for a little bit, give yourself space, time to think, or better yet, not think. So I went to The City. And there is only one City, with a capital T and C.
There was a big sign that said, UNTHINK. Ya, it spoke to me, that's what I was trying to do.
I walk through Time Square. The billboards and flashing lights make everything feel alive. There's an awesome vibrating feeling in the air, like you are a part of something big, you are creating history. The best part is, I feel it every time I go to Manhattan.
I call my father to ask him which way is Central park. Ya I'm like a guy in that way. No sense of direction whatsoever, and I hardly ever ask for help. My motto is, figure it out yourself. And if you can't, then you're an idiot. Oh well.
I headed towards the park. It was getting dark, and by the time I got there I decided it was just creepy enough and late enough that I shouldn't go in by myself. So instead I went to the apple store right near there. It is an AWESOME store. You walk in and there is just tooons of laptops and ipods everywhere, for you to try out. I am like salivating, even though I just bought a laptop. (Sorry sweety, I still like you.)
I listen to the music, and dream of buying an itouch. Ya, the one I want for Christmas. Oh well. At least I can check it out here, and enjoy it for a bit.
Next stop, Gap. Then H&M. I bought a hat, cuz I decided I must buy something if I'm in The City.
It's getting late. I had a great time chillin, I love going to The City. But my UNTHINK time is over. It's time to go back, to life, to everything.
It's just a subway ride away. I can go to The City to escape and UNTHINK anytime I want. Great feeling.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
I wanna sit on Santa's knee
I wanna sit on Santa's knee.
I wanna tug his white beard to see if it is real,
I wanna say, hey Santa, this year for Christmas I want an itouch. And a new phone. And a car would be cool. You think you can do that for me? And it's okay if it doesn't fit down the chiminey, just leave it in my driveway. Thanks.
But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
I wanna believe in wishing wells.
I wanna throw a shiny penny in,
watch it sink to the bottom,
make a wish, and believe it'll come true.
But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
I wanna believe in the tooth fairy.
I wanna put all my old teeth under my pillow,
go to sleep, and wake up in the morning with money instead.
I wanna imagine that she builds castles with all the teeth she collects.
But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
I wanna dress up on Halloween, like a ghost or a goblin.
I wanna gut a pumpkin and put it in my front yard.
I wanna go trick-or-treating,
and throw eggs at passing cars.
But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
I wanna sing Christmas carrolls, and sip eggnog by the fireplace.
I wanna put up a tree in my living room,
and adorn my front lawn with colorful lights.
I wanna sing, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
I wanna make a turkey for Thanksgiving.
I wanna make stuffing, and cranberry sauce, and wild rice with craisins.
I wanna eat until I can't eat anymore, and there is no room left even for desert.
I wanna get drunk on wine, and fall asleep without doing the dishes.
But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
But Santa will never be Jewish. And boy is he missing out.
I light the Menorah on Chanukah, and get presents and money. And I have my very own Santa. He has a long beard too. He doesn't say 'ho ho ho', but he has a wallet that says, I'm made of money. And he pays my cell phone bill. Dad's are better than Santa any day.
I put a shiny penny in the tzedaka box, instead of letting it sink meaninglessly to the bottom of a well, where someone will no doubt extract it someday, to buy a coffee with it. And hey, I get rewarded for that.
I save my teeth, instead of giving them to the tooth fairy. I think she has enough already, no need to burden her with more. And the concept of getting money for a natural occurance like teeth falling out makes me laugh at the absurdity. She can keep her money, I'll keep my teeth.
I dress up on Purim, give out and recieve baskets filled with all kinds of candy and junkfood, and the good part is, people come to give me, I don't need to go knocking on doors for it. And best of all, we have a commandment to get drunk. What more could a person ask for.
I sing Am yisroal chai, we want Moshiach now, and all kinds of crazy niggunim that make you want to dance. I chop up the tree and put it on top of my sukkah, which gives everything a nice smell. I've never had eggnog, and the thought of drinking raw egg makes me nauseous.
I eat and eat on pesach, and wine and dine, and never stop. I have Turkey whenever I am in the mood, and pumpkin pie too. And Thanksgiving is every day, not just once a year when you are feeling charitable towards G-d, and say grace.
They believe in superstitions like walking under a ladder, seeing a black cat cross the street, and breaking a mirror will bring bad luck. But we have our own bubbe maises, like sit at the corner of table and you won't get married for seven years, putting out zatar will keep away evil spirits, saying poo poo poo will prevent bad things from happening, and so on.
They will never know the taste of kuggel and gefilte fish, or chollent on Shabbos afternoon. They won't have the sweet taste of learning Torah, or the feeling of satisfaction after breaking a fast. They will never understand all the 613 plus commandments we have, or all the crazy nutty customs we do. They just won't.
I wanna sit on Santa's knee. But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
I love being Jewish, it's awesome.
I wanna tug his white beard to see if it is real,
I wanna say, hey Santa, this year for Christmas I want an itouch. And a new phone. And a car would be cool. You think you can do that for me? And it's okay if it doesn't fit down the chiminey, just leave it in my driveway. Thanks.
But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
I wanna believe in wishing wells.
I wanna throw a shiny penny in,
watch it sink to the bottom,
make a wish, and believe it'll come true.
But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
I wanna believe in the tooth fairy.
I wanna put all my old teeth under my pillow,
go to sleep, and wake up in the morning with money instead.
I wanna imagine that she builds castles with all the teeth she collects.
But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
I wanna dress up on Halloween, like a ghost or a goblin.
I wanna gut a pumpkin and put it in my front yard.
I wanna go trick-or-treating,
and throw eggs at passing cars.
But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
I wanna sing Christmas carrolls, and sip eggnog by the fireplace.
I wanna put up a tree in my living room,
and adorn my front lawn with colorful lights.
I wanna sing, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
I wanna make a turkey for Thanksgiving.
I wanna make stuffing, and cranberry sauce, and wild rice with craisins.
I wanna eat until I can't eat anymore, and there is no room left even for desert.
I wanna get drunk on wine, and fall asleep without doing the dishes.
But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
But Santa will never be Jewish. And boy is he missing out.
I light the Menorah on Chanukah, and get presents and money. And I have my very own Santa. He has a long beard too. He doesn't say 'ho ho ho', but he has a wallet that says, I'm made of money. And he pays my cell phone bill. Dad's are better than Santa any day.
I put a shiny penny in the tzedaka box, instead of letting it sink meaninglessly to the bottom of a well, where someone will no doubt extract it someday, to buy a coffee with it. And hey, I get rewarded for that.
I save my teeth, instead of giving them to the tooth fairy. I think she has enough already, no need to burden her with more. And the concept of getting money for a natural occurance like teeth falling out makes me laugh at the absurdity. She can keep her money, I'll keep my teeth.
I dress up on Purim, give out and recieve baskets filled with all kinds of candy and junkfood, and the good part is, people come to give me, I don't need to go knocking on doors for it. And best of all, we have a commandment to get drunk. What more could a person ask for.
I sing Am yisroal chai, we want Moshiach now, and all kinds of crazy niggunim that make you want to dance. I chop up the tree and put it on top of my sukkah, which gives everything a nice smell. I've never had eggnog, and the thought of drinking raw egg makes me nauseous.
I eat and eat on pesach, and wine and dine, and never stop. I have Turkey whenever I am in the mood, and pumpkin pie too. And Thanksgiving is every day, not just once a year when you are feeling charitable towards G-d, and say grace.
They believe in superstitions like walking under a ladder, seeing a black cat cross the street, and breaking a mirror will bring bad luck. But we have our own bubbe maises, like sit at the corner of table and you won't get married for seven years, putting out zatar will keep away evil spirits, saying poo poo poo will prevent bad things from happening, and so on.
They will never know the taste of kuggel and gefilte fish, or chollent on Shabbos afternoon. They won't have the sweet taste of learning Torah, or the feeling of satisfaction after breaking a fast. They will never understand all the 613 plus commandments we have, or all the crazy nutty customs we do. They just won't.
I wanna sit on Santa's knee. But I can't, cuz I'm Jewish.
I love being Jewish, it's awesome.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Today's gonna be a good day
It's Rosh kislev. I didn't go to a farbrengin, I didn't do anything special, and I forgot that it is an auspicious day. Maybe I'll go to a farbrengin, maybe I'll even do something special for it, and hey, I just remembered that today is an auspicious day in Chabad! It's a good start!
Lubavitcher Rebbe Returns Home after Heart Attack (1977)
For the first time since suffering a major heart attack five weeks earlier, on the eve of Shemini Atzeret, the Rebbe left his office in 770 Eastern Parkway and returned to his home, signaling his recovery. Chassidim all over rejoiced at the good news.
From that day on, the Rebbe redoubled his efforts on behalf of the Jewish nation and all of humanity, and for the dissemination of Torah and chassidism. From then on, the first of Kislev is celebrated as a day of thanksgiving and rejoicing.
I davened today. I'm happy about that :)
It's a good feeling.
Lubavitcher Rebbe Returns Home after Heart Attack (1977)
For the first time since suffering a major heart attack five weeks earlier, on the eve of Shemini Atzeret, the Rebbe left his office in 770 Eastern Parkway and returned to his home, signaling his recovery. Chassidim all over rejoiced at the good news.
From that day on, the Rebbe redoubled his efforts on behalf of the Jewish nation and all of humanity, and for the dissemination of Torah and chassidism. From then on, the first of Kislev is celebrated as a day of thanksgiving and rejoicing.
I davened today. I'm happy about that :)
It's a good feeling.
Please read this
This post on CMBC's blog is amazing. She is a great writer, please read it at her blog, and leave a comment!
No more
There is a red headline among all the regular news. Red means danger, important, pay attention to me. So I do. But I don't like what I see. A sea of red, one after the other. And it doesn't stop, even when I shut my eyes. It doesn't go away.
The page is so normal. Engagements that day, mazal tov, chosson classes, morah music, basement for rent, shoe sale, lost cell phone, scroll down, and down. A typical day on the news site of shmais.com.
But this is wrong. Terrorists? Mumbai? Holtzberg, shluchim I never heard of? Why G-d, why?
November 27 2008. I came home the day before from Israel, for my sister's wedding. I had no idea what was going on. Didn't see any news on the way. Nothing. The first I heard about it was when I got home. And then it started.
All the news said say tehillim. But I don't remember saying tehillim. I don't remember much about that day. Just thinking, please let the news be good.
Hoping to hear good news, thats what it said. Cuz a Jew always lives with hope, even when the sword is on your neck. Keep praying, keep giving tzedaka, a Jew doesn't give up hope.
But then the news came. It was all over. They didn't make it. And it became more real. I'm sorry G-d, I'm sorry I didn't pray harder, I'm sorry I didn't give more charity, I'm sorry for so many things, but why couldn't you have saved them? Is that asking for too much??
So much good came out of it- I know.
It brought Jews closer together- I know.
It made us stronger- I know.
Gavi and Rivka would have been happy to see all the hachlatas that were made- I know.
Everything happens for a reason- I know.
And on and on and on.
But can you tell me why a little boy had to be left without parents? Can you tell me why 2 special people had to die while doing the Rebbe's outreach? Can you tell me why G-d, who is so great, couldn't have saved them, when the world prayed so hard for their safety?
You can't. No one can answer those questions besides for G-d Himself. And I ask, yet He remains silent.
And I continue to stare at the page, and all the articles written, preaching of faith, and courage, and the need to go on. But I don't want to go on. I want to go back. I want to do that day over again. I want to watch a video of the Holtzbergs on shlichus, and know that they are safe in their chabad house. I want to erase that day from history. I want to pray until I can't pray anymore, cry until my eyes are dry, and say tehillim like there is no tomorrow. I want another chance. I want to make it go away.
But G-d has spoken. There is no going back.
I don't have anymore questions. They are useless. I want Moshiach. I want them back. I want a day with no more tzaros. No more deaths, no more prison sentences, no more pain, no more suffering. No more tears, no more broken hearts, no more no more no more!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I want Moshiach, G-d. Is that too much to ask?
Sunday, November 15, 2009
In the middle of the night
In the middle of the night is the best time to think. If I lived my whole life early in the AM, I might be farther along then I am now.
5 am, can't sleep. I go upstairs to get a drink, and then the magazines catch my eye. The house is so quiet and peaceful, it's never like that in the day. So I stay, curled up on the couch, ready for a good read.
Some things pull at my heart. Like the article about the lady who lost her baby, how it died because of faulty formula. Or the one about the girl who struggled with shidduchim.
But that's not all. There are some good articles too. Like the lady who lost weight, and got her life back in order. And the one about the amazing couple on shlichus, who are helping bring Jewish teenagers back to yidishkeit.
Sunrise, or sunset? Is the cup half empty, or is it half full? Good or bad? How can you tell? I don't know.
I sympathize on some of the stories, I cry over others. And then there are the ones that I can relate to, that make me think, that story sounds like mine. She is going through exactly what I am feeling right now, and look, she got through it okay. It gives me strength to go on, to finish my story.
It is good to share your story, so that someday someone who needs to hear it will hear it, and it will change their life. Maybe in years from now I'll share mine, and it will help someone too.
My eyes are closing, it's after 6, and my bed is calling. I say goodnight to the silent house, and as I curl up under my blanket, everything seems so clear. Thinking and planning, making lists, and setting goals. Everything is clear in the middle of the night.
I can't wait until morning, when I can get those plans moving.
5 am, can't sleep. I go upstairs to get a drink, and then the magazines catch my eye. The house is so quiet and peaceful, it's never like that in the day. So I stay, curled up on the couch, ready for a good read.
Some things pull at my heart. Like the article about the lady who lost her baby, how it died because of faulty formula. Or the one about the girl who struggled with shidduchim.
But that's not all. There are some good articles too. Like the lady who lost weight, and got her life back in order. And the one about the amazing couple on shlichus, who are helping bring Jewish teenagers back to yidishkeit.
Sunrise, or sunset? Is the cup half empty, or is it half full? Good or bad? How can you tell? I don't know.
I sympathize on some of the stories, I cry over others. And then there are the ones that I can relate to, that make me think, that story sounds like mine. She is going through exactly what I am feeling right now, and look, she got through it okay. It gives me strength to go on, to finish my story.
It is good to share your story, so that someday someone who needs to hear it will hear it, and it will change their life. Maybe in years from now I'll share mine, and it will help someone too.
My eyes are closing, it's after 6, and my bed is calling. I say goodnight to the silent house, and as I curl up under my blanket, everything seems so clear. Thinking and planning, making lists, and setting goals. Everything is clear in the middle of the night.
I can't wait until morning, when I can get those plans moving.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Not today
Sometimes, I am ready for whatever God throws at me. I am strong, I have faith, I believe that whatever happens was part of His plan, and that everything is for the best. Sometimes, I see a tragedy, and interpret it as something else. Even though it hurts in my heart, my mind tells me that God knows what He's doing. Sometimes, even when bad things happen, I don't question God. I deal with it. I handle it.
But sometimes I wake up and say, please God, don't let anything bad happen today, because I can't handle it. Today God, please cut me some slack. Let it be a good day, God, because right now I can't deal with anymore pain or suffering.
Please not today.
But sometimes I wake up and say, please God, don't let anything bad happen today, because I can't handle it. Today God, please cut me some slack. Let it be a good day, God, because right now I can't deal with anymore pain or suffering.
Please not today.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Fading away
Remember the time we turned on blasting music in our room, and we danced? Yes, even I danced. And we got it on video. And the neighbor came upstairs, and boy did he scream!
Remember those nights we would sit and talk way after midnight? And I would read something I wrote for my blog, and you would tell me in an awed voice, 'someday you are gonna be a famous author, and I'll be able to say, we used to be roommates!'
Remember when I had a stalker, and you helped me? I couldn't deal with it, and you made sure it all turned out okay.
Remember when you were homesick, and I talked you through it?
Remember when we went to the park, and lit candles, and burned stuff? And then we prank called people?
Remember when we sat on our bench and talked for hours? And when we went walking, and tried to go every night?
Remember when we used to laugh together, like we shared an inside joke?
Do you remember? Do you remember everything like I do?
Then tell me why you see me online and you say 'hi how are you' I smile and say, 'good thank g-d'. And it's the same every day. And you ask me what I'm doing in life, and I tell you what I'm up to. And we exchange news. And that's it. And again the next day. And I think, not much can change in a day, can it?
Tell me why I think of our friendship wistfully, like it happened in the past. And why I forgot your birthday. Tell me why I wish things can go back to how they once were, but I can't make it work in the present. Tell me why I don't have your number, and if I did, I wouldn't call you.
Tell me, please. Tell me why people move on, and leave only memories behind.
Our friendship fades away, and I do nothing to stop it. And I wonder, deep in my heart, is it my fault, or is it something inevitable, that can't be helped?
I will still say hi to you when I see you online, and even make the little smiley face that tells you I am happy to talk to you. And I will still go through the routine of asking how you are, and answering the question back, even if I know that we are leaving a lot unsaid. Things are different now.
I'm learning to let go, let memories be memories, and realize that some friendships were not meant to last.
It hurts when they fade away... but maybe I have to learn to let it be.
Remember those nights we would sit and talk way after midnight? And I would read something I wrote for my blog, and you would tell me in an awed voice, 'someday you are gonna be a famous author, and I'll be able to say, we used to be roommates!'
Remember when I had a stalker, and you helped me? I couldn't deal with it, and you made sure it all turned out okay.
Remember when you were homesick, and I talked you through it?
Remember when we went to the park, and lit candles, and burned stuff? And then we prank called people?
Remember when we sat on our bench and talked for hours? And when we went walking, and tried to go every night?
Remember when we used to laugh together, like we shared an inside joke?
Do you remember? Do you remember everything like I do?
Then tell me why you see me online and you say 'hi how are you' I smile and say, 'good thank g-d'. And it's the same every day. And you ask me what I'm doing in life, and I tell you what I'm up to. And we exchange news. And that's it. And again the next day. And I think, not much can change in a day, can it?
Tell me why I think of our friendship wistfully, like it happened in the past. And why I forgot your birthday. Tell me why I wish things can go back to how they once were, but I can't make it work in the present. Tell me why I don't have your number, and if I did, I wouldn't call you.
Tell me, please. Tell me why people move on, and leave only memories behind.
Our friendship fades away, and I do nothing to stop it. And I wonder, deep in my heart, is it my fault, or is it something inevitable, that can't be helped?
I will still say hi to you when I see you online, and even make the little smiley face that tells you I am happy to talk to you. And I will still go through the routine of asking how you are, and answering the question back, even if I know that we are leaving a lot unsaid. Things are different now.
I'm learning to let go, let memories be memories, and realize that some friendships were not meant to last.
It hurts when they fade away... but maybe I have to learn to let it be.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Relationships
People come into your life for a reason, a season or
a lifetime.
When you know which one it is, you will know what to
do for that person.
When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is
usually to meet a need you have expressed.
a lifetime.
When you know which one it is, you will know what to
do for that person.
When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is
usually to meet a need you have expressed.
They have come to assist you through a difficulty,
to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you
physically, emotionally or spiritually.
to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you
physically, emotionally or spiritually.
They may seem like a godsend and they are.
They are there for the reason you need them to be.
They are there for the reason you need them to be.
Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time,
this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.
Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away.
Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.
What we must realize is that our need has been met,
our desire fulfilled, their work is done.
The prayer you sent up has been answered and now,
Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.
What we must realize is that our need has been met,
our desire fulfilled, their work is done.
The prayer you sent up has been answered and now,
it is time to move on.
Some people come into your life for a SEASON,
because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.
Some people come into your life for a SEASON,
because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.
They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.
They may teach you something you have never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.
Believe it, it is real. But only for a season.
LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons,
things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.
They may teach you something you have never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.
Believe it, it is real. But only for a season.
LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons,
things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.
Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person,
and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas
of your life.
of your life.
It is said that love is blind but
friendship is clairvoyant.
Thank you for being a part of my life, whether you
were a reason, a season or a lifetime.
friendship is clairvoyant.
Thank you for being a part of my life, whether you
were a reason, a season or a lifetime.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Cuppa tea at 3
This article has been published in The Jewish Press
It's 3 am. Just going to sleep. Why Altie, you ask me, do you go to sleep so late? Yes, I have a good answer. And it has to do with my Mama, and some hot tea.
1 am, ready for bed. Showered, even brushed my teeth. Doing my last email check for the day. (Don't ask how many times a day I check it, I don't even know.) I hear her coming down the stairs. 'Hey Mama.' She can't sleep, she tells me. So she goes to make herself a cup of tea. That's what she does to calm down. I drink tea strictly when I'm sick, but my mama will have a cup anytime.
I gravitate towards the kitchen. It feels good to have another person up at this time. Makes me feel like I'm not the only one left on earth. I sit near her, in pj's. We talk about everything. Anything. I can tell her whatever I'm thinking, and she doesn't judge me. She always tries to find the good in everything, even if I feel like the choices I make and the things I do make me a bad person.
We solve world problems, my mama and I. The shidduch crisis? What crisis? My mama has too much faith too believe in that. And it rubbed off on me. She tells me that even before a child is born, it is decreed in heaven who they will marry. Does it matter if they have money, what kind of family they come from? They use paper plates on shabbos?? Ch''v! Not for my son! She didn't go to seminary? Then how will she know how to raise kids? Like really.
But mama, she sees through all of that. 'It is all up to Hashem', is what she says. You will marry who you are supposed to marry. He is out there somewhere, waiting for the right time. And when she goes to the ohel, I know to bring something with me to do, cuz she can be there for hours.
We talk about politics. Or rather, my lack of understanding on politics. She tells me why she voted for Obama, despite lots of religious Jews putting him down. She explains things to me, things that I seemingly don't understand. We discuss it, and my opinion is validated.
I tell her how I feel a lack of direction now, being out of high school. Like no on told me what to do next. And she assures me that I will figure it all out soon.
All my fears and worries, my anxiety, we discuss over a hot cup of tea. There is so much going on in the world, in my life. I sometimes blow it out of proportion, and make it harder to deal with. But my mama brushes it off. Everything's fine. Everything will be okay. It's all up to Hashem.
I feel like a little girl again. Just talking to my mama. She makes everything better. I kiss her good night, inhaling the familiar calming smell of her lotion. I go to sleep, at peace with the world.
And everything is going to be okay. It's all up to Hashem, after all.
I know, cuz my mama said so.
It's 3 am. Just going to sleep. Why Altie, you ask me, do you go to sleep so late? Yes, I have a good answer. And it has to do with my Mama, and some hot tea.
1 am, ready for bed. Showered, even brushed my teeth. Doing my last email check for the day. (Don't ask how many times a day I check it, I don't even know.) I hear her coming down the stairs. 'Hey Mama.' She can't sleep, she tells me. So she goes to make herself a cup of tea. That's what she does to calm down. I drink tea strictly when I'm sick, but my mama will have a cup anytime.
I gravitate towards the kitchen. It feels good to have another person up at this time. Makes me feel like I'm not the only one left on earth. I sit near her, in pj's. We talk about everything. Anything. I can tell her whatever I'm thinking, and she doesn't judge me. She always tries to find the good in everything, even if I feel like the choices I make and the things I do make me a bad person.
We solve world problems, my mama and I. The shidduch crisis? What crisis? My mama has too much faith too believe in that. And it rubbed off on me. She tells me that even before a child is born, it is decreed in heaven who they will marry. Does it matter if they have money, what kind of family they come from? They use paper plates on shabbos?? Ch''v! Not for my son! She didn't go to seminary? Then how will she know how to raise kids? Like really.
But mama, she sees through all of that. 'It is all up to Hashem', is what she says. You will marry who you are supposed to marry. He is out there somewhere, waiting for the right time. And when she goes to the ohel, I know to bring something with me to do, cuz she can be there for hours.
We talk about politics. Or rather, my lack of understanding on politics. She tells me why she voted for Obama, despite lots of religious Jews putting him down. She explains things to me, things that I seemingly don't understand. We discuss it, and my opinion is validated.
I tell her how I feel a lack of direction now, being out of high school. Like no on told me what to do next. And she assures me that I will figure it all out soon.
All my fears and worries, my anxiety, we discuss over a hot cup of tea. There is so much going on in the world, in my life. I sometimes blow it out of proportion, and make it harder to deal with. But my mama brushes it off. Everything's fine. Everything will be okay. It's all up to Hashem.
I feel like a little girl again. Just talking to my mama. She makes everything better. I kiss her good night, inhaling the familiar calming smell of her lotion. I go to sleep, at peace with the world.
And everything is going to be okay. It's all up to Hashem, after all.
I know, cuz my mama said so.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Just listen
I want to write, but I can't. I can't, because most of the stuff I want to say shouldn't be shared here.
Someone pointed out to me that my blog is mostly about me. I laughed and thought that was absurd. I said my blog is about how I relate to the world, and other people, my thoughts and feelings on things, etc. Then I noticed how many times I said I, or 'me' in that sentence. But why would anyone want to read about my life? And the answer I got was, 'your life is interesting to read about.'
I'm not sure what that meant, or how I should feel about that, but I'll take it.
I'm writing with my new laptop, and the cursor isn't working properly. It keeps moving postions, and typing in random sentences, places it's not supposed to be. It keeps straying. It's (damn) annoying, and I feel like cursing myself, but I'm not supposed to. (A curse in parenthesis doesn't count. My rule.)
I could tell you about the text I got, the standard one from my friends, showing that they care about me. I could tell you what the text means, and why I shouldn't have gotten it.
I could tell you about how I heard Jewish music playing in the local Jewish supermarket, and I thought, that's weird, I haven't heard this stuff in a long time.
I could tell you about how I heard someone davening, and saying tehillim, and wishing that person was me.
I could tell you a lot of things. But I'm not going to. I'm going to keep quiet, and you are going to make believe you heard all the stuff I'm not telling you. That's how it's gonna work.
And I'm gonna feel better for telling you, and you are gonna nod your heads in understanding, and tell me, 'don't worry, everything will be okay.'
And I will believe you, because I have to believe.
Thanks for listening.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
One year
I started this blog for a reason. There's a story behind how this blog came to be, as there's a story behind every good thing. But I will not share it with you, because it is personal. What happened, happened, and B"H, cuz a good thing came out of it.
Someone told me to start a blog to 'help people who are in my situation.' To give encouragement, inspiration, etc. Whether or not I accomplished that is not up to me. I tried my best.
Thank you, for giving me the push to start writing. 215 posts later, here I am. So many ups and downs, so many times I wanted to quit and abandon writing altogether. But I didn't, cuz then you would win. And we can't have that, can we.
I hope that through this blog I touched at least one person, inspired someone, changed a life, or just put a smile on a dreary face. Cuz that was my goal.
Here's to another great year of writing. A year of inspiration, of thoughts, ideas, emotions. It should be a year full of simchas, and change, growth and maturation for everyone. Lots of brachos, only revealed good, and may we see Moshiach right now!!
Happy Blogaversary!
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
I'm happy cuz
I'm happy cuz I'm free. Cuz now I can do whatever I want. I'm happy cuz I'm not tied down. Cuz I can get up whenever I want, buy a ticket, get on a plane. Go to Mexico. Or Cambodia. Wherever. And no one would miss me. No one would call me demanding to know where I am. Free. No strings attached.
I'm happy walking outside, enjoying the pleasant weather. I'm happy sitting on a bench, on the busy street, watching the cars go by. I'm happy with the wind in my hair.
I'm happy even though I'm tired. I'm falling asleep on the subway, and still I find time to laugh at the guy facing the wrong doors, as it pulls to a stop. Only to realize that he wasn't getting off after all, and the joke was on me.
I'm happy when I see a girl with balloons, and I imagine that it is her birthday. I am happy for her.
I am happy despite being sick with a cold, and wishing I can go to sleep for a long time.
I am happy cuz I'm standing there, and the subway rushes towards me really fast, and I love the feeling I get every time, my hair whipping about, and the thrill, that feeling that I am standing so close to the edge, but I know I won't go over. I just know.
I am happy because I am me, and no one else. Because I was born for a reason, even though that reason seems to evade me many a time.
I am happy cuz I have friends, even though they sometimes lock the door when I am still out, and then don't bother to call to see where I am and if I'm safe.
I'm happy cuz I'm driving the car by myself, no pressure in the back seat. And the music is blasting, and I'm singing on the top of my lungs. And I have a bad cold, and I know I sound bad, even to my own ears, but luckily I can't hear it. And what the heck. We only live once.
I'm happy cuz I have family who love me. Cuz they care. Cuz I can call them up on the phone, even when I am living a few blocks away. And it's okay to cry to them. To them, cuz they understand. Cuz even if they can't help, they want to make the ache go away. And they will talk to you, and even make jokes that are not funny, just to make you feel better. Just to hear you laugh. And they always tell you not to worry, that everything will be okay. And even if you know that may not be true, you believe them, you trust them. Cuz they make it all better. And that makes me happy.
I'm happy even if I don't always smile. I'm happy even if I don't show it. I'm happy despite the things that go wrong in my life. Because when I am having a really bad day, and yes, maybe I even feel depressed, I walk outside, and I feel the sunshine. Or I see the full moon shining in the nighttime sky. And it is so beautiful, and so natural. And how can you not be happy?
And I smile, an ironic smile, cuz who am I to be upset. And I remember who I am, and where I have come from, where I am going. I remember.
Yes I'm happy. You may look at me and not see it. But really, am I supposed to care what you think? You don't know what goes on in my head. You don't know my thoughts and feelings. You think you know. You want to know. You try to know. But you don't.
No, I'm not happy all the time. But admit it, neither are you.
And don't try to call my bluff. Because I'll call you on yours.
I'm happy walking outside, enjoying the pleasant weather. I'm happy sitting on a bench, on the busy street, watching the cars go by. I'm happy with the wind in my hair.
I'm happy even though I'm tired. I'm falling asleep on the subway, and still I find time to laugh at the guy facing the wrong doors, as it pulls to a stop. Only to realize that he wasn't getting off after all, and the joke was on me.
I'm happy when I see a girl with balloons, and I imagine that it is her birthday. I am happy for her.
I am happy despite being sick with a cold, and wishing I can go to sleep for a long time.
I am happy cuz I'm standing there, and the subway rushes towards me really fast, and I love the feeling I get every time, my hair whipping about, and the thrill, that feeling that I am standing so close to the edge, but I know I won't go over. I just know.
I am happy because I am me, and no one else. Because I was born for a reason, even though that reason seems to evade me many a time.
I am happy cuz I have friends, even though they sometimes lock the door when I am still out, and then don't bother to call to see where I am and if I'm safe.
I'm happy cuz I'm driving the car by myself, no pressure in the back seat. And the music is blasting, and I'm singing on the top of my lungs. And I have a bad cold, and I know I sound bad, even to my own ears, but luckily I can't hear it. And what the heck. We only live once.
I'm happy cuz I have family who love me. Cuz they care. Cuz I can call them up on the phone, even when I am living a few blocks away. And it's okay to cry to them. To them, cuz they understand. Cuz even if they can't help, they want to make the ache go away. And they will talk to you, and even make jokes that are not funny, just to make you feel better. Just to hear you laugh. And they always tell you not to worry, that everything will be okay. And even if you know that may not be true, you believe them, you trust them. Cuz they make it all better. And that makes me happy.
I'm happy even if I don't always smile. I'm happy even if I don't show it. I'm happy despite the things that go wrong in my life. Because when I am having a really bad day, and yes, maybe I even feel depressed, I walk outside, and I feel the sunshine. Or I see the full moon shining in the nighttime sky. And it is so beautiful, and so natural. And how can you not be happy?
And I smile, an ironic smile, cuz who am I to be upset. And I remember who I am, and where I have come from, where I am going. I remember.
Yes I'm happy. You may look at me and not see it. But really, am I supposed to care what you think? You don't know what goes on in my head. You don't know my thoughts and feelings. You think you know. You want to know. You try to know. But you don't.
No, I'm not happy all the time. But admit it, neither are you.
And don't try to call my bluff. Because I'll call you on yours.
Monday, November 2, 2009
What's the point?
Some people have a problem with honesty. As in, they don't know how to be honest. I have a problem with honesty. As in, I don't know how to be dishonest. I'm too honest. You get the point. (Here is where you ask me what I'm talking about, and I very politely say, oh no sir, (or maam) I can't tell you that. And if I tell you I'll have to kill you.)
Now I have a question: try this math equation. If a person wakes up at 6:45 am, leaves to work at 7:30, starts work at 8:30, works until 5:30, gets home at 6:15, leaves to school at 7, comes back from school at 10:30- well, where is there space for free time? Like down time. Chillin time. Time to sit on the computer and watch a show, talk to friends, breath. Wasting time. Ya it's called wasting for a reason, but if you didn't waste any time, or you didn't have any time to waste, then what would be the point of living? To go to work and make money? To go to school and get a degree, so later you can make money? Does the answer to the equation always equal money?
Money money, sure is funny, in a rich man's world.
I'd love to have money, at the very least be comfortable. Be able to pay bills, buy food, and still have some left over for boots. But hey, we don't always get what we want in life.
Sometimes I wish that life had a return label, that never expired. And when we get sick of it, we can exchange it for something better, or just give it in altogether. Ask g-d for an exbox insteasd, or a laptop. Say sorry, I don't want it.
And I ask again: what is the point?
Now I have a question: try this math equation. If a person wakes up at 6:45 am, leaves to work at 7:30, starts work at 8:30, works until 5:30, gets home at 6:15, leaves to school at 7, comes back from school at 10:30- well, where is there space for free time? Like down time. Chillin time. Time to sit on the computer and watch a show, talk to friends, breath. Wasting time. Ya it's called wasting for a reason, but if you didn't waste any time, or you didn't have any time to waste, then what would be the point of living? To go to work and make money? To go to school and get a degree, so later you can make money? Does the answer to the equation always equal money?
Money money, sure is funny, in a rich man's world.
I'd love to have money, at the very least be comfortable. Be able to pay bills, buy food, and still have some left over for boots. But hey, we don't always get what we want in life.
Sometimes I wish that life had a return label, that never expired. And when we get sick of it, we can exchange it for something better, or just give it in altogether. Ask g-d for an exbox insteasd, or a laptop. Say sorry, I don't want it.
And I ask again: what is the point?
Sunday, November 1, 2009
The end, the beginning
The memories, all the memories, from years and years of accumulated stuff. I guess it doesn't really matter now. Packed away in boxes and bins, stuffed in closets and under beds. So much stuff to show for all the years. But no place to put it, no shelves to display it, no hooks to hang things on. So it waits in the dark, silently, until someone will pay it some attention.
And in the meantime, I pass by it on my way out the door. No I'm not gonna stop. No I have no time to reminisce. I wish I did. But life is such that I live on the go. Go go go. Only forward, no looking back. No time for memories, no time to cry, or laugh, or sniff, or remember. Just no time at all.
My new apartment awaits. My stuff will stay behind in my family house. Until they move. Until I come to collect it. Until I get married and decide to sort through it, do the job that I dread, throw stuff away, put some in storage for keepsake, put some of it on display, and choose to remember, to go back into my past. Until then.
But for now, it is goodbye. Until later.
I'm moving out tonight.
And in the meantime, I pass by it on my way out the door. No I'm not gonna stop. No I have no time to reminisce. I wish I did. But life is such that I live on the go. Go go go. Only forward, no looking back. No time for memories, no time to cry, or laugh, or sniff, or remember. Just no time at all.
My new apartment awaits. My stuff will stay behind in my family house. Until they move. Until I come to collect it. Until I get married and decide to sort through it, do the job that I dread, throw stuff away, put some in storage for keepsake, put some of it on display, and choose to remember, to go back into my past. Until then.
But for now, it is goodbye. Until later.
I'm moving out tonight.
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