Absence makes the heart grow fonder

I missed you, America. Once I got passed customs and saw that American flag standing proud on American territory, I almost cried.

Okay, I didn't cry. Not even a little bit. But it definitely feels good to be back.

The wedding was, in a word: Amazing! This is what I remember of it (or what my exhausted brain can compute right now):

-Beautiful kallah
-Fun dancing
-Funniest little girl sitting next to me and chatting me up (niece of the kallah. The funniest thing she said: it was her birthday that night. She just turned 9. She gives this big sigh and says, 'It's just so hard.' I asked her what is so hard and she says so seriously, 'You know, 9 is a really big difference from 8.' Sweetie, just wait until you are my age.)
 -Standing outside for the chuppah in freezing sub-zero Celsius weather. (About -17 Celsius.... which is pretty cold.)

Everything else was a blur. Oh, and I went shopping and bought boots. So, all in all a productive 2 days.

I'm not so sure the American agent at customs was as happy to see me as I was to see him. I was expecting an open arms welcome back, but got no such thing. Just 'have a safe trip'. Thanks, you too.

Canadians are such weirdos. (My apologies to any Canadian readers.) I had a stopover in Montreal. Everything was in French. I hate French. Ever watched Tinkerbell in French? Ew. The guards there wear weirdly shaped hats:

The whole place was white. Apparently the snow doesn't melt until June.

It was a fun 2 days, all traveling done (Thank G-d), now it's back to work and back to life. And I think I'm getting sick.

To the beautiful kallah: Mazal Tov! I am so happy I was able to be there. And may we all celebrate many many more simchas this year!!

What is normal, really?

I'm so exhausted and I wish I was at home in my bed and not trying to get comfortable on a hard airport chair.

Everything got screwed up. I blame it on the airline. For some reason my flight was scheduled for 5 hours EARLIER than scheduled and I was not told about it at all. No email or call. How did that happen? I have no idea.

I was informed that my itinerary is completely wrong as well. Is it because I booked it through a travel site and not directly through the airline? Is it because I booked it 3 months ago and the flight changed since then? Does it matter? How can they screw up like that?

My mother says I should sue them. Sue happy America.

Doesn't matter. One flight cancelled one flight delayed one really long stopover. What is going on here? I WILL be at that wedding.

I hate the airline and I hate Canada. Unjustified? Maybe so. But I'm too tired to care.


Granola bar for dinner, forced to use tiny bathroom stalls and the free fragrance samples at The Body Shop to freshen up and feel human again...

I hate traveling. Thursday have to do it all over again.

Please excuse my negative tone. I am typing this on my iTouch, I have no phone service and airports make me crabby.

Goodnight all.

Oh Canada....

As I'm writing this, I'm freaking out and trying to remember if I packed my passport. Because our friendly neighbors no longer let us in their country without it. It is like we are criminals... Gosh.

I am not a horrible traveler, but it does make me nervous. Especially being that I am only taking a carry-on and trying to properly pack my tiny 3 oz. bottles according to the TSA regulations. Hey, I am just doing my part to keep our country safe, even though I don't see how someone couldn't figure out how to build a bomb with 3 oz. bottles of liquid. Oh, never say the word 'bomb' in an airport, unless you want security all over you, and to miss your flight.

I don't much like Canada. Or Canadians. There. I said it.

Okay, I like a select few Canadians. After all, I did spend 4 years of my life there.

The occasion: the best and only reason to travel to that desolate land. A wedding! My close friend is getting married and I am so looking forward. Out of town weddings (meaning out of New York, and yes I know how pretentious that sounds) are generally smaller, so each guest is more appreciated, and I am very happy to be a part of it.

I have my dancing shoes ready:

(Hottttt)

I am not taking my laptop and will most likely not have phone service, so this is goodbye for 3 days. Oh, I will miss you...

Building Blocks

I have a hard time editing something that I have already written. To me, it is like doing the work all over again. But editing and revising is a central part of any great piece of writing. It must be done.

7 PM: Gonna sit down to work on my paper....

7:30: Check some emails first...

8:00: What's new on Facebook...

9:00: I'm hungry, need some food...

10:00: Just going to watch one show, to get my brain moving...

11:00: Time to start?

11:30: No, snack time

12 AM: Time to start in on my essay...

1 AM: Good work, time for a break...

3 AM: (head slumped on table) zzzzzzzzz

Okay time to go to sleep.

12 PM (next day): Time to work on paper

Need food first.

No food. Need to go shopping.

Don't feel like getting dressed....

Okay, work on paper.

1 PM-4 PM: Grrrrrrr...... Cut, paste, copy, move, delete, add, keep, or discard, too much information, too little, do I like it, do I hate it, is it worthy of an A, should I get a second opinion.....

Editing is very much like blocks. Move some around, until you are happy with the setup.

4 PM: I think I'm done. Hold on to it for awhile till I hand it in, just to make sure....

5 PM: Time to start my day!

I love Sundays. The Power of Procrastination......

But I think the essay turned out pretty good.

Your lips are moving but all I hear is...

Bla bla bla.

Were you ever in an argument with someone and they just wouldn't stop talking? Everything they say is a lie, and they keep putting words in your mouth and telling you what you are thinking and feeling. And all you want to do is tell them to shut up, or better, shove your fist in their face...

Some people just love to have the last word, and they will take it no matter what. Even if it means sticking their fingers in their ears and saying "lalala I can't hear you!".

I call that immaturity. What is wrong with settling an argument peacefully and civilly? Agree to disagree. Difference of opinions. Hear the other person out, maybe tell them you think they are wrong, then shake on it and go your separate ways.

My mother always told me to walk away from a fight. I didn't like that. I always wanted to stay and fight, stand my ground, prove my point. I wanted to win.

But sometimes really winning means letting it go. If the other person wants to feel big, let them. Even if you know that they trampled you to get there.

Sometimes in a fight, there is no end. Maybe a stalemate. Sometimes the two people in a fight honestly cannot work things out. Their differences get in the way, their temperaments clash, they dislike each other to a point where no matter what is said they will both leave feeling annoyed and misunderstood. 

In that case, the best thing to do is just stop talking. Let it go. Cool off. Forget about them. No need to stress over someone that is not worth it.

Because no matter how hard you try to make them understand, they will merely sneer and say something to belittle you, because in order to feel like the bigger person they need to make you feel small.

My mom told me to walk away, and this time I think she is right.

Being a kid again

I drop my bags as I run towards it, my surroundings fading away. Leaves are falling all around me, getting caught in my hair. The sun is shining down, glinting off the metal fence surrounding me.

I close my eyes and inhale deeply, and start moving. Slowly at first, I soon gain momentum. I can feel myself flying. Head thrown back, hair blowing in the wind, feet kicking, pumping, pumping, going higher and higher and faster and faster.

Soaring. This is freedom.

People are looking at me but I don't care. I laugh gleefully and continue swinging merrily.

Today, I am a kid too.

Have a good Shabbos, and never silence the child inside of you.

Disappointment

How do you explain to an outsider why there are people who want to kill us?

When we heard about the escalating war going on in Israel, and the three people who were killed in a missile attack, we were discussing it in my office. A non-Jewish co-worker asked quite innocently, "Why do they want to kill you?". I didn't really have an answer other than, it is an inborn eternal hatred and there really isn't any reason.

She asked, what happens if the Palestinians take over Jerusalem? Where do they want the Jews to go? I answered cynically, "Into the sea."

It can't be explained. Mostly, I don't understand it myself. For years, I heard about terrorist attacks in Israel, suicide bombers, stone throwing, missiles launched, and I thought, why do they let it happen? Why don't they fight back?

I heard all about 'politics', and protection, and 'Israel needs America's support'. But never once did I hear, let us go in there and fight and defend ourselves until every terrorist is dead.

During Operation Pillar of Defense, I followed the news daily, reading about every single rocket that fell in Israel, every single site that the IDF managed to destroy in Gaza, and I thought 'Yes! This is finally it!'. PM Netanyau was quoted as saying, "we will continue to take whatever action is necessary to defend our people," going so far as a ground incursion if it comes to that.

Even President Obama said that Israel has a right to defend itself, and that "There's no country on Earth that would tolerate missiles raining down on its citizens from outside its borders".

It all seemed to be going in the right direction until.... Cease Fire. That says it all.

The problem with a ceasefire is, it is just a temporary respite from the attacks. It gives the Palestinians time to regroup, to bury their dead, to rebuild, and to come back stronger wit more missiles than before. What's the point? Like a hornet's nest, if you don't get them all the first time, they will just multiply.

Obama commended Israel on the way it handled the ceasefire. Of course. With that much pressure to end the war, what choice did they have? 

This picture pretty much sums it up:

This picture says it all.  "Cease Fire Starts....Air Raid Sirens in Beer Sheva" 

And that is all. The war is over. Israel won. And yet they are still suffering.

There's a 'joke' going around Facebook- "The definition of a ceasefire: Israel ceases, and Hamas fires". 

It is a big disappointment. It is frustrating to watch the most persecuted country in the world let others hurt them every day and not fight back.

Netanyahu: "Now, I realize that there are citizens who expect a harsher military action and we may very well need to do that. But at present, the right thing for the State of Israel is to exhaust this possibility of reaching a long-term cease-fire. As Prime Minister, I have the responsibility, and it is the highest responsibility, to make the right steps to ensure our security. That is what I have done and it is what I will continue to do."

It will never be enough, because evil will never disappear, until we destroy it to the very end.

We need Moshiach now.

Lost in Translation

Learn a foreign language. It's on my long list of things to accomplish in my lifetime. But learning takes time. And effort. And not many people can speak a second language with a perfect accent.

In my company we deal with many foreign clients who live outside the US. Most of our foreign clients speak Spanish, but we've had Chinese and Arabic as well.

We have a really cool resource: an account with a translation service. We call the service, say what language we need, provide the clients information, and then they connect you with an interpreter and the client.

The first time that I used it was weird. Each translator is different. Some of them are totally impartial, repeating word for word what the client said, even speaking in first person as if they themselves said it.

Then there are the ones who insert themselves into the conversation like they are a part of our company. One interpreter kept telling me, "I told him that we are trying to help him, that we would like to offer him...". I thought it was funny.

Then there are the ones who try to joke with you like they are your best friend. Which makes me wonder what they are saying about us to the clients, when we can't understand. I'd imagine it would go something like this:

"Los estadounidenses están tan tonto, ¿no? Lo único que quieren hacer es engañar a usted fuera de su dinero. Vamos a ordeñar por todo lo que vale la pena. Tú y yo juntos, hombre. Podemos hacerlo."

Then there is the translation itself. I don't know how expanded other languages are, but what I do know is- it is impossible that what the client said in a two minute monologue can be translated into five words. Something was definitely lost in translation, or paraphrased:

"Dios bendiga a América, tierra que me encanta. Párese junto a ella, y guiarla a través de la noche con una luz de lo alto. Desde las montañas, a las praderas, A los océanos, blancos con espuma Dios bendiga a Estados Unidos, mi hogar, dulce hogar Dios bendiga a América, mi hogar, dulce hogar."

"He said- everything is in order." Yup.

I also wonder how the interpreter can remember everything I just said in order to accurately repeat it to the client. Then there is the awkward silence, if I am connected to the client but the interpreter has not come on the line yet, and neither of us can communicate.

I am picking up words here and there and responding even before the interpreter finishes translating. A funny thing happened once- the interpreter started telling the client what I was saying, and the guy interrupted and started speaking in almost perfect English. The interpreter was left with nothing to do but listen to us talk.

It is an interesting experience. I have some down time to sit back and 'watch the show' so to speak. It takes time to translate what I am saying, let the other person talk, and translate it again. So I take a break and get some other work done. Sometimes I put the call on mute and chat with my coworkers. 

Having a 'middleman' so to speak takes pressure off me in the case where the client is not happy, and makes the interpreter the 'bad guy'. He acts like a buffer, because my words are not actually making an impact.
It also gives me a chance to retract or change my words before they are related to the client.

Sometimes I don't know if I should say 'you are...' or say 'tell him that...' Theoretically I am speaking directly to the client, albeit through another person, but it feels weird to direct my words at the client, so mostly I end up saying, 'please tell him..'

It is weird not knowing how my words are being translated and explained. Of course translation is a funny thing. For some words there are many translations in a different language, and sometimes none at all. It is up to the interpreter's discretion how to translate it. Even in Google translate things come out weird or stilted or make no sense.

I know a lot gets lost in translation. Sometimes the meaning changes, sometimes the very best things you try to say comes across as cold or rude. Language barriers can be a big deal.

Which is why I will never marry a foreigner.

My Tomato

Ever had someone in your life who was bad for you? I'm not talking insane stalker who threatened everyone you loved, and killed your cat. I am referring to the variety of bad influences that you find in every day life. The ones who convince you to cut class. The ones who tell you to shoplift because it's fun.

A more practical example is a person who is simply not healthy for you. They belittle you, they hurt your confidence, they are like a poison to your carefully constructed life. The solution: get rid of them.

But what if it is not so simple? Oh, I have heard that line a million times. And generally, 'not so simple' means that you know exactly what to do, you just don't want to do it.

But what if said person just keeps cropping up? And despite your brains warning signs of 'Danger! Danger! Keep away!', you just have this pull, this desire to have them around.

We all have toxic things in our lives. Too much television, too much candy. That ice cream, that chocolate bar. Things we know are bad for us, and yet we indulge in them. Call it guilty pleasure.

I have this theory. I call it 'my tomato.' I hate tomatoes. I always have. But everyone always made them look so good and juicy. So every once in awhile, I would try it, thinking, maybe this time I will like it. To this day, I still hate tomatoes.

Your tomato is the person you know who is not good for you, and yet every once in awhile you say, 'let's try again, maybe this time it will not be so bad.' But it is still bad. Maybe this time it is worse.

And I wonder, why do we do that to ourselves? Do we not remember just how bad this person/thing is for us? What is wrong with us? Are we insane?

We are not insane. At least, I don't think I'm insane. I hope not. I can't deal with insanity.

So I sit on a bench in the cold night air, with millions of cars rushing by me at high speed. And I ask myself, what should I do?

I'm a smart person. I usually know what to do, deep inside. They say to trust your own instincts. So I try.

My instincts are telling me to get in a car and drive far away and never come back.

So I ask again. And this time I hit upon the right answer.

'Go home', my inner voice says. Go home. Make dinner. Make a lunch. Do your work. Fold your laundry. Focus. You have a life. You have responsibilities. Why are you sitting here dreaming of being anywhere else, when you have a pretty good life waiting for you at home?

And I know what to do. I have always known what to do. It is that simple.

Throw out my tomato. And never look back.

The next big thing is already here

I watched communication deteriorate. When I started high school, girls would sit together on the bus on the way to school, and talk to each other. We had fun, we sang, we shared, we enjoyed each other's company.

Enter: MP3 players. This was before the iPod became globally famous. Girls would have their tiny MP3 players with headphones in ears and every morning in each seat would be girl, girl, girl, girl, with blank sleepy expressions on their faces, listening to music and dead to the world. No more communication. People would hesitate to sit next to them, unwilling to disturb their space.

And then it spiraled from there. iPods. Video iPods. iPod nanos. iPod touch. iPad. And now mini iPads.

Kindles, and nooks, and smart phones. And it never stops. iPhone, iPhone 4, iPhone 4S, iPhone 5. It is never enough.

The more they make, the more they try to make better. Last year's model car is not good enough. No, now you need to lease the newer 2013 model.

Trade in your laptop for newer and better. Touch screen laptops. Tablets. Every year a new make and model. The old one expires five minutes after you buy it.

And I just want to say, enough. Just stop. Isn't it enough? Why can't we just be happy with what we already have? Why must we be thinking about 'the next big thing' the second after we buy something?

I see all the ads and I want what they are selling. I want everything. I don't need it. I desire it. I want a new phone. I want a kindle. (Chanukah gift, anyone?) I want what they are selling, because they make me feel like without it, I am lacking.

Progress is good. I know that. Advances in science and medicine is good. The more they search, the more they improve, the better it will be for society. Imagine a cure for cancer. G-d willing one day there will be one. Imagine a surgery that can make blind people see. That already exists. Because nobody stopped and said, okay that is enough for now, I think we are pretty advanced, let's give it a rest.

But in the area of physical possessions- people don't stop. Cars, houses, vacations, jobs. It is just never enough.

There was a news article in which mothers were asking the city to ban ice cream trucks so their kids wouldn't whine and beg for it every time a truck passed by the park. In my opinion that is ridiculous. The solution to the problem must come from within, not from an imposed rule.

The solution to obesity is not to ban sugary drinks over 16 ounces. The solution is self-control and exercise.

I am not asking advertising companies to stop with their ads. That would be ridiculous. Yes, I would like to not be reminded every time I ride the subway that I do not possess the newest model smart phone, that I do not have Windows 8, that I cannot buy a ticket right now and fly anywhere in the world, that I cannot afford a car, regardless of the model.

I understand that self-control must come from inside of me, and that 'Ezehu ashir hasameach bechelko' (Who is rich? He who is happy with his lot.) But I just wish that all those advertisements did not make me feel like my lot isn't good enough.

My question is- when will it end? 'The next big thing is already here'. That is, until something even bigger comes along.

And then, get out of the way because Black Friday is coming. The lines will be long, the sales will be great, and everyone wants what they are selling.

The answer- it will never end. 'Now' will no longer be good enough tomorrow. And 'They' always win.

On My Own

There's something in my head
and it just won't leave.
These thoughts are swirling
and I can't break free.

And I just want to feel
safe and secure
and I just want things
to go back to before.

But I know that's not
what life has in store for me
and I know that you
are not what's best for me.

There's a million streets to walk down
in this city all alone.
And that's why I'd never
make it on my own.

Sometimes it seems like
this will never end.
Just when things are fine
you round the bend.

The road's not smooth
it never has been for you.
Waiting for the sunshine.
Don't know if you'll make it through.

The things you wish for
the hopes and dreams.
You tell yourself it's alright
when that's not what it seems.

And they are all standing there watching,
as you take the spotlight
You want them to know that
you'll be alright.

But there's a million streets to walk down
in this city all alone.
And I know that I must
make it on my own.

You close the door
and slide down the wall.
Let the floor
break your fall.

Hope that you won't
let them down.
Know that you
can turn things around.

But there is something
holding you back.
You are searching for
the one thing you lack.

And there's a million streets to walk down
in this city of broken dreams.
And everything is not always
as it seems.

Sometimes you just can't
say the things you need to say.
You don't know how
it turned out this way.

And so you let the arms of
12 am hold you tight
And just maybe
you were never meant to fight.

Everything seems to
fall apart.
And soon it'll be over.
You can use a fresh start.

And she says
"Something about you
just brightens up the day".
But you hide your face
and turn away.

How can she see that
when inside it all feels wrong.
And you memorized all the
lyrics to the song.

Someday soon it'll
all come together.
And you better be ready
For the stormy weather.

Cuz there's a million streets to walk down
in this city all alone.
And it seems it's time to
make it on my own.

Be safe little brother

They say to pray and I do but I don't think about it. Every time I see a headline that says 'Please say tehillim for... for a speedy recovery' I mumble the persons name with a quick thought and move on to the next thing in my day.

Is that normal? Is that okay?

An acquaintance said, "It's so sad, everyone is so worried about Israel right now, talking about it, posting about it, etc. But in 4 months we will all forget..."

It is sad. And it is true. We forget because if we don't, we can't move on. If we don't forget about loss, the pain, the deaths and destruction, how can we live every day with that pain weighing on us?

Until it is someone close to you. And then you can never forget. You remember every day, every little thing reminds you of the person who is gone, maybe you move on and it is not in the forefront of your mind, but you never forget.

What can we do? Beyond the prayers, the learning, charity, posts, statuses, worries, etc. What can we do to help?

I was never in a bomb shelter. I don't know what an air raid sounds like. I have never known the fear of war, worrying about loved ones, I have never been close to death.

Four years ago we lost 2 great people, Gabi and Rivka Holtzberg, shluchim to Mumbai India. Today, another shlucha to India was killed in a terrorist attack in Israel. 25 year old expectant woman, Mirah Scharf, among other deaths and injuries.

I hate the facts. I hate hearing the statistics, the ages, the names. It makes it so much more personal. When you hear the woman was pregnant- it makes it that more tragic.

I have a little brother in the IDF. And I am not worried about him. I don't know why. I can't bring myself to worry. I stop and think, should I be worrying? And I decide no, there is no need to worry. So I go on with my day.

And I hope to G-d I never have a need to worry.

And then I feel so selfish for not worrying. What is wrong with me? Why am I not shaking with fear, and praying to G-d to watch over all our brothers and sisters in Israel?

But I can't think. I'm sitting at work and I can't focus. I don't want to call my mother because I know she will worry, even if we know for sure my brother is safe.

So I read the headlines along with everyone else, and sigh, and mumble some tehillim, and say 'please G-d protect them and let it end' and then I feel helpless because it is not in my hands.

So I go on with my day, and that feeling of guilt lingers.

Because I know nothing about war- but these people are living it every day.

May we merit to see the coming of Moshiach speedily in our days.

(Don't know what to call it)

There's this thing, it's called writer's block. Sometimes it's not so much a block as, such a good idea that it takes more time and effort than you have to write it.

Sometimes you have so much to write. Like about phones. And language. And sleep. And time.

I have no time. And I need sleep.

And I really really want to write. Because I have such a good idea blooming in my head.

And this is not a preview. This is my lame way of saying: be patient I am trying to formulate my thoughts.

In the meantime, I get an A+ in Procrastinating 101. And sleep deprivation.

Oh sweet sweet sleep....

We had a deal

Back then it seemed so little,
So innocent, what you said to me.

You wanted to help me,
to save me from my mistakes.

But we both know
how that would have ended.

So we made a deal.
And we took off running and never looked back.

I thought about what you said,
every night as I fell asleep.

My future flashed before my eyes,
and I knew what you said was true.

I hope you are off chasing the dream,
Changing the world.

But all I can do is sit and think,
and waste my time.

I still got time,
according to our time-frame.

But that's just it-
This is life, it's not a game.

But if it were,
You and I would be the players.

We'd be racing against the clock
to get to the finish line.

And I have no idea where you are
or what you're doing.

And I know what you'd say to me,
if you knew how I was feeling.

The only thing in this game I don't know
is how it'll end.

Cuz I'm sitting here,
filled with fear and not moving.

And I want you to tell me what to do,
to pull me through.

But we both know
that's not gonna happen.

Cuz we had a deal.

No goodbyes

As I watch you walk away I think,
'I love you.'

I think I finally get it.
How they say, 'deep down you love them,
no matter how much you hate them.'

For me it was really deep.
So deep I barely ever saw it.

And you always complained
and asked me why I hated you so much.

And it's not because you bug me all the time,
or annoy me, or steal my stuff.

It's not because you talk too much,
or that I just can't stand your voice.

It's not because you were always immature,
a 'baby', followed me around everywhere I went.

I hated you
simply because you existed.

But that was childish,
as hate usually is.

I love you
simply because you exist.

And you will never hear me say it.
But I know you know it too.

As I watch you walk away,
I don't say goodbye.

I say have a safe trip.
and 'see you around.'

I don't need to say goodbye,
because I will always see you again.

And no matter how many times I say 'I hate you',
you know I'll always love you.

Cuz that's just what families do.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

I love it when the weather turns mild after a bout of cold. Wednesday night I came home cold and wet due to a snow storm. Today, the sun is shining, it is jacket weather, and everyone is out and about.

Crown Heights is full of men, as the annual shluchim convention is taking place. One friend posted a cute status: "Crowds of confused rabbis buying pantyhose -kinus hashluchim 5773". 

One time I saw a frum guy taking a picture of a women's rain coat, presumably to send to his wife. Another time a frum guy stopped me in the makeup isle and said 'excuse me, my wife needs make-up remover'. So I started to tell him all the options, (liquid, pre-soaked cloths, cotton swabs, etc) and he just said 'thank you' and picked the first one he saw. It is so cute to watch guys totally out of their element. 

I love walking down the street on Friday afternoon and smelling the various fumes of cooking coming from the houses. Yum, chicken soup.

I'm making chocolate chip cookies. It just feels like the right time to make cookies. "All who are hungry come and eat."

I really hope the weather stays this great. Sun makes everything better.

Have a good Shabbos!

The place where you can find Me

Tonight's a night for cookies,
tonight's a night for fun.
Tonight's the night to get away
from you and everyone.

I dream of making music,
of finding that beautiful tune.
The one that makes everyone listen,
that fills up a whole room.

The snow outside has melted,
Frosty has lost his nose.
I want to make a warm fire,
Inside where it is cozy.

But the great outdoors is calling,
begging me to come.
To be one with the cold,
until all of me is numb.

This thing inside me growing,
begging to be let out.
I try so hard to block it,
but it continues to shout.

I can smell your cakes baking,
in your kitchen warm and sweet.
I see you standing all day long,
weary on your feet.

I stand in the corner watching,
hoping to remain unseen.
I enjoy observing you in your world,
Going about your routine.

I talk until I'm tired,
I say all that I feel.
The silence is my answer,
Time will help me heal.

Sometimes I don't want answers,
I just want to forget.
I listen to music and let it move me,
Until I'm no longer upset.

Sometimes I think it's crazy,
to tell you how I feel.
I say you'd never understand me.
You tell me to 'get real'.

You say we've all got problems,
that each one can use a helping hand.
'Not I', I respond cynically.
Forever alone I stand.

I

Just

Want

To

Talk

Aloud

And have you listen
and tell me what I want to hear.

I

Just

Want

To

BE

Myself

And have you accept me for that,
And no longer have fears.

But I can be so many mes
Sometimes I don't know which one is real.

So tonight, I let it go.
And close my eyes,
And pretend that I am
Right where I want to be.

But all I see
Is a blank open space,
A place
Unknown, and void.

With no name,
no beaten path,
Cuz no one has dared
to traverse it.

And I will be there first
As soon as I can figure out,
Just where this place is,
And how to get there.

And when you come looking,
that's the place where you will find me. 

To shake or not to shake

"By the way, I never caught your name."

"Josh", he said, and stuck out his hand to shake mine.

I presented my gloved hand in a halfhearted way and said, "I'm sorry, I can't shake your hand. It's for religious reasons."

"It's cool", he said. It's cool.

But is it?

To my shock and dismay, I have heard meany reasons and arguments defending the position of being lenient with shomer negia in regards to shaking someone's hand of the opposite gender, specifically in the workforce. One person even defended their claim using Wikipedia as a source. (See the section on Shaking hands in halacha). Everyone knows Wikipedia is not a valid source.

Whether shaking hands is a strict halacha or a 'personal preference', for me it goes way deeper than that.

There is that split second where thoughts go through my mind.

'He doesn't know me, who will ever know....'

'He won't understand, so why bother to explain?'

'It is just a handshake, what's the big deal?'

And then I remember who I am. I am a Jew. I am a frum Jew. I am a frum Jewish Lubavitcher, a chassid (follower) of the Rebbe. And the Rebbe never compromised, so why should I.

Why should one be lenient in an area where it is so easy for them to be strict? We as Jews learn to take the high road, in Halacha (to go beyond the letter of the law), in practice, (to give more charity, to do more favors for people), and in our personal lives. We are taught that it is not enough to just live, it is not enough to just do. We have to do more, we have to be better, we have to be the best that we are capable of being. 

Why should I make excuses and take the seemingly 'easier' route? To stand up for what you believe in, and what is right- THAT is what makes you a man.

Who knows? Maybe that guy will be walking away thinking, 'hmmm that is very impressive, I would love to know more about it.' Maybe he has a new found respect for Jews or religion.

And maybe he didn't think about it at all. But had I stuck out my hand and said 'Hi I'm Altie, nice to meet you'- I would have failed myself in every way.

Election Day

You told me what you thought,

You told me what to say,

You prepared me in depth

For that awaited day.

You gave me pamphlets and notes,

You had me memorize the lines,

You made me spit them back to you,

In that god-awful rhyme.

You told me that you know best,

For me and our country,

You even gave me a special cheat sheet,

You quizzed me on it daily.

Quickly that day came near,

I rapidly grew with fear,

But you reassured me

That it would all be clear.

In that polling booth I stood,

Not knowing what to do.

I was finally all alone,

They didn't let me come with you.

I thought of all you told me,

I thought about what you said.

I considered the other candidate,

But was stopped by your voice in my head.

I closed my eyes and pulled the lever,

Hoping to make you proud.

I thought of the name we spoke about,

I said it to myself aloud.

You talk about this great country,

In words hushed and revered.

You tell me of the freedom it gives,

That we no longer have what to fear.

But you never gave me a choice

You never taught me how to think, how to do,

You simply showed me how to follow you blind.

Now I, am a copy of you.

4 years gone by (And still as awesome as ever!)

I'd like to thank my parents, who raised me to be the amazing person that I am today. I'd like to thank my Nana (Hi Nana!) and the little girl who pulled my hair when I was 5. I'd like to thank my dead cat Louie, who I know is watching over me from his grave. Wow, this is such an honor.

4 years. That is a long time to stick to anything, especially blogging. When I started my blog, (I love flashing back to the beginning. It is always important to remember where you came from.) I wrote long essays, inspirational thoughts, trying to share something with the world and inspire people. Over time, it has evolved into a diary of sorts, a way to express myself when I needed to most.

Thank you all for listening, and for reading. My journey is by far not over yet, I still have a ways to go. But I have gained so much through this blog. I have grown, I have learned about myself, I have gone through some rough times, some amazing times, and everything in between.

I have met some great people who I can call 'friends', some people who have caused a lot of drama in my life, and some who were just plain creepy.

If I have inspired even one person through my 4 years of blogging, it'll have all been worth it.

And I have. Myself. I have learned, I have grown, I have discovered things about myself that I never knew, I have experimented. It has been and still is an amazing journey.

My voice cannot be silenced, for as long as I am living, I will always have what to say.

Thank you for reading, and I hope that this year will bring amazing things and lots of blessings for everyone!

Here's to another successful year of blogging!

Keep moving forward

Sometimes I find myself stuck in certain areas in life. Career, relationships, personal struggles. I hate being stuck on one problem for too long. I like to find a solution and bump it out of the park. Done.

But not everything has an instant solution. Some people end up dealing with the same problem their whole lives. I don't necessarily think that is healthy. I don't believe a person should be in therapy for years dealing with the same problem. Yes, I believe in conflict resolution, but not if it takes you a lifetime.

Sometimes all one needs is a change. A change in routine, a new job, a change of scene, a change of friends.

On a computer sometimes you have to refresh a page if it is working slowly in order for it to operate properly. In a relationship sometimes you need to step up your game, 'spice things up', to keep it fresh and healthy.

Same in every day life. If you are feeling moody, depressed, for no particular reason, maybe it is time for a change. Learn a musical instrument. Try a new hobby. Take a class. Join a book club. Get out there, meet new people, reexamine your goals and start working on something that you have been putting off. Maybe it is time for a career change.

It is not healthy to be stuck in life. You have to keep moving forward, keep growing. And you can do it. Start with something small. Or something big.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. And it's about time I start living it right.

I love you

You're the one who makes me laugh through my tears,
You're the one who reassures me despite my fears.

You're the one who tells me that everything will be okay,
You're the one who's there for me at the end of the day.

You're the one I run to when things go bad,
You're the one I want to talk to when I'm feeling sad.

You're the one who listens when I call,
You're the one who's there with me throughout it all.

You're the one who's strong when I am weak,
You're the one who's silent when I speak.

You're the one who makes me feel alright,
You're the one I know will hug me tight.

You're the one who smiles when I arrive,
You're the one who's glad that I'm alive.

You're the one, the only one, who's a part of me,
You're the one who holds the key, to set me free.