A long overdue update...

This update is overdue for me.

Life has changed a lot for me since I started this blog a couple of years ago.

I'm still scared, still uncertain, still don't really believe, still single.

I'm still at the same job, still lying to the same people about essentially the same things.

BUT: I'm slowly becoming more comfortable with myself, and more comfortable with letting Judaism slip into place, rather than fitting it in.

Would I rather let it all slip away? Absolutely. But I don't see that happening.

Every day when I leave work I change into jeans and a t-shirt. And I like myself like that. I feel comfortable like that.

I eat dairy dishes in non-kosher restaurants. I feel like i'm choking when I go home.

Home is a relative term.

I want to tell my friends about the new me, the improved me, the me who is different. Smart, successful, and has it together. Not the me who feels suffocated by religion.

I work harder than most people I know.

I crave attention, affection, love... but never seem to get enough to be satisfied.

I push people away, because I know eventually they'll leave on their own accord, and i'd rather nip that in the bud.

I'm the kind of person that everyone assumes I have a lot of friends, but sometimes my phone doesn't ring for days.

I promised I would be more open with my life, let people in, stop hurting on my own.

I guess i'm hurting more than i'll admit. This isn't rebellion, this is a way of life.

I don't drink, I don't do drugs, I don't have sex in bathrooms at bars (or anywhere for that matter.)

I just want a do-over in life, and I think i'm young enough to get it.

Back for a short time...

I've got an insanely hard Meteorology midterm tomorrow so in a desperate attempt to avoid studying, I have come here to post again.

Sometimes I look at myself and wonder if i'll ever regret what i'm doing.

When I was in seminary (many moons ago) we had speakers of all different backgrounds who came to share their life stories with us. One of them, Jake, would tell us the story of the first time he ate non kosher food. To quote him, as soon as he took a bit of the hot dog, he glanced up to the sky expecting lightning to strike him dead.

Aside from the non kosher part, which doesn't exactly pertain. Bending the rules, yes, but non kosher... weeeeeelllll, not really. But I am always convinced that something awful will happen to me or to my family. God is not a very nice or happy being and I don't want to piss him off.

I know we always rehash the same issue, but that's what this is for. No one else understands, not that I expect them to.

ME: (What I actually say) I don't think I want to be religious anymore. I don't feel anything.
HER: )What she hears) I want to be eternally damned and ruin every one's lives.

Christmas Musings...

Do you ever feel like your life is going in the exact plan you've so carefully orchestrated, and things still seems so... unordinary?

Good job- check

Get into a good college- check

Keep things calm on the family front- check

Nice clothing- check

Decent apartment- check

Good friends- check

Healthy- check

I've got it all, aside from the noticeable money and significant other.
But neither of those bother me. For a 23 year old, I have a decent life. Sure I have to slave away, and work hard for everything I have, but I should be happy, grateful, thrilled.
A part of me, (the naive part) feels if I don't express gratitude then god will take it all away. A la Foreskin's Lament and all

I never know why I write here, and people rarely read, but I feel a sense of comfort nonetheless.

The fact is, i've just become better at pretending. Thanks for the Chanukah present- now i'll be sure to pray every day. Left it on the train.

Jeans hidden in my closet.

Lights turned on and off...

It's not that I don't believe, it's just that I think god is off monitoring the murderers and thieves, he's not concentrating on me, he never has and never will.

Maybe if he showed a little compassion for my family i'd feel a little more inclined to please HIM.
As of now, i'd rather believe in Santa, he brings better presents.
_____________________________________________________________________

Secret of the night- I lie and pretend because I tell myself they'd never handle the truth. Truth is, i'm 23 and I don't think i'll handle the truth.

Would you give up everything to live the way you want?

It's been a while and things have changed and everthing is the same.

Cancer is still killling. This time it was my grandmother, and the name of the devil was Fast-Moving-Metasticized-Pancreatic-Cancer, short for There-Is-No-Way-Out-Of-This-Death.
Do you find it amusing that there is no way out of death?

I'm not sure why I decided to come back and post a random update here, months after my last post. Maybe i've become inspired by Aseret Y'meei T'shuvah.

Ha! Quite the unlikely thought.

"Nothing's fine, I'm torn

I'm all out of faith, this is how I feel

I'm cold and I am shamed

Lying naked on the floor"

Of course I feel nothing, and i'm getting worse at pretending. Things I don't even realize are a problem start to slip out. Am I yearning for the life I don't have because I don't have it, or is there something deeper?

Religion is not for everyone. My Rosh Hashanah was spent in the kitchen cooking. My mom spent hers in shul.

There must be a God, because someone has to be orchestrating this mess. I couldn't do it all on my own.

But at least i've reached the age where i've come to realize that lack of religion does not make me a bad person, I don't lie, cheat, steal, do bad things, I am a good person, who simply doesn't want her whole life governed by ruled she (meaning myself) hasn't chosen. I want to make mistake, I want to stumble, I want to fall, I want to be drunk in bars at 4 AM. I want to feel somthing other than this awful ache that's been building up inside me for the past few years.

If it hasn't gone away by now, if I haven't seen the light, ain't gonna happen.

Secret of the night: I don't want to be inspired, I don't want to be fixed. I want to move somewhere far, far away and blend in and remve myself from my past, and when people ask about my family and friends brush it away with a wry smile and a wave of my hand, as though the whole story is too complicated to go into. It is. The story, will be complicated.

Why can't I sleep?

It's two AM and I should be sleeping. But I cannot.

I don't like the pensive me, I prefer the me who rolls into bed and falls asleep right away.

Pesach is almost here, the most restrictive and stressful holiday of them all.

Everyone is gone, to London and France and Israel and Belgium and scattered between Chicago, Miami and everywhere in between. It seems so strange to have everybody gone.

I'll be in Europe too you know.

The things one does to escape reality.

Street art..

I should be asleep, because in around 6 hours I need to leave to go volunteer at a soup kitchen.
I have been volunteering as a way to give back and add meaning into my life.
Mostly it leaves me tired.

On an amusing note :)

It has come to my attention, that I think too much about other people's lives in an attempt to avoid my own. Is it my fault that other people's problems are more interesting than my own?

My divorced friend has move in with me for a bit, to kind of get back on her feet.
Friday night she accused me of not treating her like she is divorced, which in my opinion was a wise thing. She says that even though she is single, she was divorced and hence I should treat her differently. WTF? I have spent the whole weekend trying to figure out what the hell she means. Still haven't arrived at it.

and this is blog world... + an engagement...

There are so many things I would say here... but even in this little corner where I get to express what I really feel, there lives this inate fear of people finding out who I am. I wonder what makes me care so much.

I'm not going to be home for Pesach. Anything to escape that hell. I am definitely in for an interesting Pesach, but in following with my privacy kick, i'll leave the other details quiet.

I thank god that my friends are not into blogs, so I can talk much more freely here... :)

My BFF (best friend forever) is engaged.

I knew the day would come, and I always knew she'd be before me, but I can't help feeling a tinge of jealousy. It's insane, and there is no reason for it, but in a bizarre way, she was mine ( in an a sexual way,) and now she's his. Forever. Another chapter in my life is closed.

Now here's the worrysome part. I'm worried for her. There are way too many things that point to a not-so-good start, or continuation. I know they guy she is engaged to, and was never impressed with him to start off with. She claims he's changed, and maybe he has.
How many people do you know really change.

My friends and I all worry, but I really have only one thing to say, no one can fuck up anyone's lives so perfectly as the person themselves.

I have 3 divorced friends. I've spent hours on the phones with friends who were being beaten, raped and verbally abused by sick husbands. What I haven't seen, i've heard.

Out of the kettle and into the fire. You know what it's like when you want to protect those you love, and you know the best thing you can do for them is let them be burned, so they know that fire hurts.

Sometimes I just wish I could be a happy go lucky self centered person. I don't take people's problems to heart, I don't lose sleep over them. I lose daylight hours... I lose faith.

So I just sit back, smile, congratulate her, go shopping for a gown for her, and a new dress for me. And pretend that i'm not worried about her. When she calls me up crying, I calm her down, tell her he's just being a guy, and cheer her up.

Because in the end, i'd rather she hate herself, then hate me.
___________________________________________________________________
Secret of the day,
In the end, we're all selfish, and we'll do whatever we can to keep the peace. Including lying to those we love the most.

Virginity... and all that sort of nonsense....

My roommate and I were having a serious discussion this week.

Seriously, when we were 18, 19, even 20, we were totally OK with the idea of no sex. Not that we all didn't talk about it 24-7, but we were OK with the idea of waiting.

But this situation is getting completely out of hand. We're 22, 23 and 24 and you know...

When some of my friends tell me they don't care, or that the lack of sex doesn't bother them, I always blink a little.

There are days where I seriously want to just propostion any guy on the train.

This situation is killing me. For god's sake, what am I- the eternal virgin?

I swear- I seriously don't know how much longer I can deal with this. It's not just guys who have needs.

Cold shower, here I come.

Purim Day is almost here

It's funny when I think about how much holiday's used to mean, and how little they do now.

My struggles are continuing, and getting worse everyday. I can't say i've given up, that would entail trying. I am not trying, because I don't want to.

To me, religion seems archaic, ancient, outdated. In with the old. Why can't I chose my own religion? I'd chose none at all.

I wish I could believe. I really do. You don't think I want to be like everyone else?

You don't think I want to fit in? I do, but I can't.

My God would want me to be happy.

It really because of what God has done to my parents, I don't want to associate their God with myself.

God could have cut them a break, could have made life a little simpler for them. Could have helped a bit.

Once again a random update...

I don't know what it is that makes me come back here and write. I'm not even sure I have an audience anymore. I just know that something is drawing me here, compelling to write. So it's 11:44 PM, and I am typing as though my life depends on it- perhaps it does.

I could make up some interesting things, put a few funny anecdotes here, and make a funny blog.

I am a funny person- if you knew me in real life, you would think I didn't take things seriously enough. If you got to know me well, you might realize that I take things to seriously.

I started my 4th semester of college tonight. I'm 22 and not even 1/2 way done with my BA. My boss got fired, my job is in limbo- and as usual, my nights are haunted.

You want to know why I don't want to get married. You tell me no one will be left. You tell me to lose weight. You tell me people won't see me, they'll see things they don't like. How can I make someone want me- when even I don't want me?

How can I marry when I don't know what I want. How can I marry someone who believes- when I don't know what I believe? How can I marry someone who doesn't believe, when I don't know what I believe.

All I want is to be free, but the more time goes on, the more traped I feel.
The noose is tightening around my neck, and it's starting to hurt.

I wake up at night flushed, sweaty and with a racing heart. Someone is always trying to kill me in my sleep.
I'd give anything to get away. I'd give anything to start anew. No religion, no obligations. But i'd hate it too.

I'm a grass is always greener person. I'll always be looking over my shoulder, looking, Maybe one day i'll find someone who's searching too.
___________________________________________________________________
Secret of the day:
Whenever I go to movies alone, i'm always wondering if i'll meet some guy who is also at the movies alone. I always wonder if there are other lonely guys out there doing the exact same thing as me.

I'm not really sure why I stopped writing...

But today I recieved a comment on an old entry and it got me thinking. I think this was all hitting a little close to home. I suppose, perhaps, I was/ am worried someone would read this and start connecting the dots.

My own screwed up life, and screwed up thinking are for my benefit only. I wish I could say that there has been no further use for this blog, and that all issues are resolved.

But my dear, the problem is only just begining. Is there a point where a person develops faith, faith which was never there before?
I used to envy the people who believed, now I just pity them.

When I saw this postcard on Postsecret, I nearly cried. Whoever wrote that- could not have summed my life up better. Kudo's to you- an anonymous person- suffering as I am.


I only pretend to believe, because I see how my family treats my cousin who "went off." And it would break my heart to not be able to see my sisters.

"Not all who wander are lost", and not all who are lost wander.

Cancer, cancer, don't come near.

Cancer has become a part of my life.
It started out with my friends mother being diagnosed with a stem brain tumor, and continued with me taking a job that has something to do with cancer.

Cancer used to be for adults, it never hit close to home. Now words like Medulablastoma, and Neuroblastoma are everyday words. The word ALL (Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia) sends shivers down my spine. I never knew that babies could be born with cancer. Little babies, newborns, not strong enough to pick up their heads, fighting a demon. I know about tumors, different types, I know that anything in the brain is bad, and Leukemia is one of the worst.

There are those that say that if cancer won't kill you, the chemo will. A little boy died today. And the world went on living. I ate my lunch, after logging his death.

Am I cruel, or is the world cruel?

Cancer kills in an inhumane way. It makes you wonder. Only a God could create something so horrific. Makes you wonder how a God could make children suffer. Must children suffer for the sins of their parents?

My little sister has an autoimmune disorder, she gets an injection of a chemo drug once a week. It makes her sick, and it is one little shot. These kids have poisons running through their viens.

A 12 year old is being transferred to hospice. Hospice is for old people. Why do some get to live, and others die.

I've called parents to ask them a question and have had them tell me that their child is no expected to survive the night.

Only a God can engineer such a disaster. Why must the children suffer?

Not minding my own business...

As i'm sure many of you have heard, this week a 15 year old girl got engaged. As if that is not obsurd enough, the guy she got engaged to is suppossed to be 17.

How bizarre is that. Now there are all sort of the usual "maybe she's pregnant" rumors, and all of those malicious, and possibly true whispers. Usually I would never give a second thought to one of those stories. My usual reaction is; " oh well, there goes another kid screwing up his/her life." This time it is different. I know the kid, know the family. I was actually her counselor in a camp a few years ago.

She is the sweetest, cutest kid ever. I was shocked to see that she was on engaged.

It's a shame.

15 is too young to be married.

As per this weekend...

I am officially the only one of my (single) friends that has never had a boyfriend, or kissed a guy.

Interesting stuff.

So far my life is pretty scheduled, the only goal I have left for this year, is to get my drivers license. My second goal for this summer is to get a boyfriend. Third goal is to lose weight so guys will be more interested. Maybe that should come before finding a guy- as I suspect they go hand in hand.



It's people like the one who wrote this post card that make me want to give up.
How can one compare fat to death. I see fat every morning, I face death at lunch.
How shallow and self centered can people be. I hope who ever wrote this turns so fat that they can't leave their house.

I am still bothered by my guyless-ness. How odd. I found out some shocking news about a friend of mine. So shocking- I couln't think straight. Just goes to show- you never really know someone. I mean, being realistic, how many people REALLY know YOU?

Thinking...

Tonight I feel content, cozy, secure.
I was home (with my family) for the weekend. Friday- Monday morning. It was nice to be home, it's nice to whiz in there, be the good guy, and leave. Seems all I ever do is come and go.

Tonight I made dinner and invited some friends over. During the meal my friend decided we should say a D'var Torah, so I grabbed my Chitas (Chumash, T'hillim, Tanya) which was sitting on the top of my fridge, actually probably hasn't been touched since I moved in, and I proceeded to the Hayom Yom of the day.

It's odd how distant I've become. I found the place easily, read the passage, but something was different. A spark was gone. I could not, would not feel inspired.

I get my inspiration in odd ways, from random people. Random movie lines, quotes of the day on Google, comics in the Daily News. It seems as though my mind is searching for what my soul has closed off, or vice versa.
My friend continued her "Dvar Torah" by saying that when one is content with where they are in life, that is the most detrimental. I suppose in many ways, I need not worry, but with religion... Oh boy- do I need to worry.

People love to ask me, "where do you stand, where do you fit in?" I suppose the correct answer is no where. I could say I keep what I like, I would be lying. I could say I keep what is convenient, I would still be lying. I do as much as I can do without feeling like the top button on my shirt is closed. I can't be choked. I won't be choked.

Gimmel Tamuz is in like 3 days. The day the Lubavitcher Rebbe passed on. I suppose some well meaning friends will drag me to the Ohel, as usual. I will go- as usual, in an effort to light a spark I refuse to kindle. I will pray, all the while looking around me, half in awe, and half wondering if everyone is really concentrating, or are they, as I am, waiting for inspiration. After the Ohel, while waiting for my friends, I will sit in the room and watch Rebbe videos. I will feel inspired, and then I will quickly squelch that idea, because that doesn't fit into what I've chosen for myself.

I sabotage myself. I enjoy it, I torment myself, but luckily- it's only me that suffers.

Summer Break keeps my mind in overdrive...

I thought summer break from school would give me a chance to calm down, to relax.
That is not how things are working out. My mind is in overdrive, I've been trying to plan my life.
Should I go to school full time, should I continue in night school. Is my job right for me. Should I quit and just go to school. What if I end up with too many loans.
Why won't the gov't grant me more money...

My best friend has a hug party for her son's first birthday, hall caterer, DJ... You name it- she had it. This is her second child.

What was I doing there. The only single person in the room, owing and aahing over everyone's babies. Im Yirtzeh Hashem-by-you's flowing like water. Pitying eyes. I don't pity myself. I'm 21 for God sakes. So don't give me something I won't give myself.

I want to travel. I want to LIVE my life. I want my life to play out like Moulin Rouge- only without the death. I want to feel, to live, to love.

"Always this ridiculous obsession with LOVE" Moulin Rouge

Why is it that I am not content to live my life as others do. Why can't I be happy with a simple life?
My friend decided she wants to set me up with the guy who came to fix her computer. She says he's Ashkenazi. As if that's enough to make a marriage work. Scrape the barrel- why don't you.

Tomorrow I am taking my sisters to Max and Mina's in Queens. Stalk me if you wish!
"You can't catch me- I'm the Gingerbread Man" So I am.

My head is swimming with idea's and notions and things I want to do.
The grass is always greener on the other side. Unless you live here- then it tends to be dried out.
What do I want to do with my life? I thought I would be happier with a break from school. Now I see how much I miss it. I miss feeling smart. I miss having people to talk to- I miss having something concrete to complain about.

I can start complaining again in September- when I start again.
I guess there really isn't much to update here. I am restless- never a good trait. Everyone is on vacation and I will work. (Truthfully, most people I know are working, but my mind keeps trying to trick me) "Silly Rabbit- Tricks are for Kids" So they are.

Think there will ever come a time where I will be content?

Life is fine, I've got a good job, got awesome grades this semester, have some money in the bank, am on good terms with my family. But something is missing.
"But that's not now. That's then" -Annie -the musical.

Not in a great mindset....

I have finals- I have work. My family is crumbling to pieces before my eyes.
There is nothing I can do about it.
I hate God sometimes. I love the fact that I can absolve myself from guilt by blaming it on Him.
I really don't hate God, I'm just so scared that there isn't a plan in this world.
I am scared my whole life will be like this, working to pay my rent, and sitting home alone, on my bed, typing term papers on great writers, psychologists, and sociologist, knowing at best- I will end up being mediocre.
In my house, being mediocre is a sin. You are the best at what you do- or you do not try... Most of us do not try.

I want to cry, because I am so confused. I want to know where my life will take me.
Will I be destined to sit home alone, forever? I'm only 21.

I can't ever remember loving God. That makes me one very F******D up Jew.

HEAVEN'S VERY SPECIAL CHILD

HEAVEN'S VERY SPECIAL CHILD

A meeting was held quite far from Earth
It was time again for another birth.
Said the Angels to the Lord above
This special child will need much love.
Her progress may be very slow
Accomplishment she may not show.
And she'll require extra care
From the folks she meets down there.
She may not run or laugh or play
Her thoughts may seem quite far away
So many times she will be labeled
'different,' 'helpless' and disabled.
So, let's be careful where she's sent.
We want her life to be content.
Please, Lord, find the parents who
Will do a special job for you.
They will not realize right away.
The leading role they are asked to play.
But with this child sent from above
Comes stronger faith, and richer love.
And soon they'll know the privilege given
In caring for their gift from heaven.
Their precious charge, so meek and mild
Is heaven's very special child."

Quick personal update....

Things have been following a rather ordinary pattern. Work, school, chocolate, term papers, phone calls, dinner, video's. Oh and work had a bit of an upset. Can't put any details, but something sad happened. Someone passed away, a child, not mine, not yours, no one i've ever met.
I got a text in the middle of the night to pray for this child. I never met the child, yet I knew more about him than most people that did know him. I suppose I am not immune to death. We planned our work schedules around the L'vayah. I did not go- I never met the child. But I got a text about the little child I did not know, from someone who did not know that I knew the child I did not know.
I suppose many of you think I am obsessed with death. On the contrary- it seems death is obsessed with me.

As per Thursdays- I went to the hospital and looked at life. I have resolved to see the life in something- staring at death is no longer an option. I gave her bread and hunted down a nurse for some butter. I freed her arm from beneath the blankets and helped her butter the bread. She turned back to watching "Ushpezin," and I walked to the door. As I turned to leave, she turned to me and said "Thanks."

I have been falling asleep on busses and trains today, fell asleep on the 5, on the 2, on the D, on the B11, on the B41, and on the B49. All in one day. Too little sleep, to much to do.

Happy Belated Mothers Day...

I often wonder how different my life would be if my mother was different. Don't get me wrong. I lay any blame on my own shoulders. But I know that many of my rebellious issues stem from my mothers newfound love of Judaism, oh we grew up frum and all. But this is FRUM.... different stuff.
I prefer my God, He's a lot more chilled and forgiving.
Her God- now that's a whole other story.

Pictures courtesy of PostSecret
I love my mother, I really do. But there are times I believe my subconscious does not. I bear an enormous amount of resentment towards her. I love her so much, I dislike her that much too. I tell her I love her because I know thats what she wants to hear. I hurt her because I know I can. I resent her for making me grow up too fast. For making me the mother of her children. She is my mother. She helps me when I have a crisis, will drop everything to help me. I don't know what I want from her. I want her to show me how much she loves me. So I test her over and over again.

Why do we hurt those we love the most?
I love her so much it hurts.
I hate her so much it is painful.

Every Thursday I take three hours out of my day...

To watch someone's life ebb away.
It seems almost cruel for me to waltz in there, all cheery and good deed'y. To skip around the room, smiling brightly about everything and anything. I can leave the room in the end. She will not.

She says please for everything, "will you please see if there is anymore peanut butter, please turn on the DVD player, please leave the door." Would we all say please if we knew we were to never leave the room?

It seems almost cruel to come in there, panting and out of breath, still bearing the musty scent of rain, hair all curled and frizzy. "I've been outside today too," she says, and indeed she has, pushed by a nurse, for the nurse's cigarette break. I've been outside, because I went from place to place, walked on my own feet, stood on crowded platforms, jumped for a seat. I've been outside living my life and you've been outside for a cigarette break.

I keep thinking I'll change, I keep thinking that today I'll really appreciate life. I do- in my own little way. I appreciate the way I am too busy to appreciate life.

Every Thursday I try to come up with original excuses why I cannot go. It's something awful to go week after week, with the same false cheer. "Excuse me, I know you're dying but would you like a soda?" "How are you feeling today?"
What is she supposed to answer, "Oh I think I may live a few more weeks?"

So we continue the charade, I with the cheeriness and she with the hope. Because all a dying person has is hope. The sad kind of hope. We chat about her children, which high-school the eighth grader is going to, knowing full well she will not see her child enter that grade.

I often want to ask her, aren't you scared, aren't you sad? I'm scared for her, I'm sad for her.
My problem with death is that it does not affect me as it does others. I walk out of there, count my lucky stars and go grab some dinner. Because in the end, we are all human.
Tolstoy is right, we are glad it isn't us.
We are sad that it is someone else, but every time I'm home, I hug my mother a little tighter.

Because Tolstoy is right, ("The Death of Ivan Illych") we are glad it is not us.

TRIANGLE OF LOVE....

• 
  

We were learning about love in developmental psychology topic in general. Made even more interesting, (interestinger) by the group of girls discussing it.
The Lubavitchers who believe in love, the Chassidishe girls who trust their parents, the Modern Orthodox ones who trust their friends...
Makes for a great discussion. I'm not really one for the psychological view on love but what we learnt was tres interesting (at the risk of being redundant.)

That triangle pictured on top is supposed to be what a relationship should contain.
1) Passion
2)commitment
3)Intimacy

Sounds quite the mushy thing but it's true, you need to be able to love the person, stay committed to the person and the relationship and have that special connection.

The triangular theory of love characterizes love in an interpersonal relationship on three different scales: intimacy, passion and commitment. It was developed by Robert Sternberg. Different stages and types of love can be explained as different combinations of the three elements, intimacy, passion and commitment. Sternberg states that a relationship based on a single element is less likely to survive than one based on two or more.

Through the Looking Glass....*EDIT*

"The horror of that moment," the King went on, "I shall never, never forget!" "You will, though," the Queen said, "if you don't make a memorandum of it.
~Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass, 1872


There are very many people in the medical world that say keeping a journal is unhealthy. One undoubtly writes down things that bother them, things that one would have forgotten had he/ she not written it down. Then the person re-reads what they wrote, and with every word, re-lives the often painful episode. Are we perhaps better off not remembering out pain?

Just when you think your friends are the best, that they love you for you, and you wouldn't be able to live without them. They do something so shocking that makes you doubt everything. If one girl could ever break another girls heart (not in THAT way), it was done to me last night.

Nights are always the worst for me.

"Can't you see my heart is broken on the inside, where, where has it gone?"
"How I wish someone would be my friend, and respect me for the way I am,
together we would laugh and share, if only somebody would care."

-----Marvelous Middos Machine

Never thought I'd be taking comfort from a kids tape song, but that it exactly how I felt last night.

I feel like a fool. I'll be learning from this "mistake."

Tumbling Down...

Tumbling down,
Orange and brown,
Come pretty autumn leaves,
Autumn leaves are happy and bright,
Autumn leaves are a pretty sight.

_______________________________________________________________

My life is brilliant, my life is pure... I saw a ghost- of that i'm sure.
_______________________________________________________________

My oldest friend's mom is dying. I know because I know because I know. I visited her in the hospital, as I do every Thursday. Death is not pretty. May we be blessed to go in peace, intact.
My job is getting to me, so many people, so many illness. How could God have created so many people imperfect? So much pain, so much suffering. Babies, newborns, why must they suffer.
_______________________________________________________________
"Children will atone for their parents sins." What if the parents have not sinned.
"We are believers, the sons of believers," are we not?
________________________________________________________________
"But i'll just keep walking on by, cause i've got a plan."

Here I go..........
Accent: NewYork, with a bit of other flavors, not the New Yoohhkaaahh accent though!
Booze: Bacardi N Coke, I know, a little old fashioned, or Bacardi Silver.
Chore I Hate: Washing dishes, J'ai detest.
Dogs: Cute as long as they don't bite.
Favorite Perfume: Lemon Sugar by Fresh.
Gold/Silver: Silver all the way.
Hometown: Somewhere in NY.
Insomnia: All the time, it's like i'm trying to slow down, but my brain is in fast forward.
Job Title: Personal assistant/ Department secretary.
Kids: NONE
Living Arrangements: rent an apartment, share it with a friend.
Most Admired Trait: Responsible, cheerful, not that you can tell from my blog- but...
Number of sexual partners: None, thought I had many witty answers for the question!
Overnight Hospital Stays: NONE.
Phobia: Hair, especially coarse hair, like in beards and stuff.
Quote: "Am I the habit you're too tired to break?"
Religion: Jewish
Siblings: 7
Time I usually wake up: 7:20
Unusual Talent: I invent recipes
Vegetable I refuse to eat: Brussel Sprouts
Worst Habit: Over-reacting eating at night.
X-Rays: Sonogram on a cyst, x-ray on my arm when I fractured it (bike accident) and x-ray on my knee when I tore the ligaments (skiing accident)
Yummy Foods I make: Almost anything, cooking is my forte'. Umm...chicken soup.

Communication

Communication
I'm talking to you about poetry
and you ask me,
"When do we eat?"
The worst of it is,
I'm hungry, too.

Alicia Partnoy

__________________________________________________________

Has this ever happened to you?
You talk to people, about real details, real issues, words from the soul and they simply do not care. I think the real problem is that some people don't have souls. The worst of it is, i'm hungry too.

It's a spiritual hunger, but not just that, a hunger for the arts, to see and understand famous paintings. To read famous literary works and memorize thousands of poems. I used to be the kind of person who appreciated the arts, the sensitive matter. 16 years of Bais Yaakov changes a lot. I never blame, I never accuse, I just wonder.

"And the worst of it is, i'm hungry too"

Some inspiration via Kurt Vonnegut

We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be.
Kurt Vonnegut

That I would say, sums it up.

The thing is, what if you can't make out whether or not you are pretending or not. Not everyone knows whether they are the real them, or not.

So am I pretending? Is it wrong to pretend?
What about "Mitoach Shello L'shma, Bah Lishmah?"

What is it ladies and gentlemen? Can we pretend? Do you pretend?

But a life that's a lie is no life at all.

I'm drowning.

It made me doubt everything. As if anything I believed in needed doubting. I would say I no longer believe in God, but then even I'd know that I'm lying. Suffice it to say all I wanted to do was hop on the nearest train and go back to my apartment. I'm talking about on Yom To, not Chol Hamoed.
I turn into a person I do not know, around my family. I am short tempered and rude and...everything. It is as if all the animosity I felt growing up, envelops me. I am still me, the one who picks up the pieces.
After 21 years I want someone to look out for me, to cook me dinner and ask me how I feel. I just want someone to really care about me. Is that too much to ask?

This girl in my class ( at college) told me she can't wait to go home, cause everytime she goes home her mom takes care of her and cooks her favorite meals and does her laundry, she said it's better than a hotel.

You know what happens when I go home? My dad asks me to get the kids to clean up, while my mom is at the Shul doing God knows what. So I come home and cook and clean and do the kids laundry. Do the dishes, clean the kitchen.
I don't even know what I want.
I don't know.

Thing is, I really had almost convinced myself that I was over the whole rebellion stage. But it's not really rebellion anymore, is is? Nope, not a teenager and can't be excused as such. It is just plain not believing. I am not trying to rebel against anyone. I just want my life to be led as I wish.
More than anything, I wish I could be like my friends, I would use the word simple, but it is much more complex than that. They believe, no matter what. I cannot believe- no matter what.
I am so envious of the way they pray, I know I will never have that. This is not a recent development, since I was young I knew I did not believe, I went about/go about the motions as I know I should, because I always do what I should do.

I do not pray. Have not in so long. I bentch when people remind me to, so as not to draw any attention to myself. I keep complete Kosher, keep Cholov Yisrael in fact, because somewhere deep inside, I know I have a soul. I know I need to keep one thing, I am always terrified, that should I lose my last fragile hold on Yiddishkeit, all is gone. My friends all tease me and they have a joke- the day we see ****** (me) eating Cholov Stam we know something is wrong. They have no idea how close they are to the truth.

Because the truth is, this Pesach taught me that i'm hanging onto a thread, dangling over a cliff, and the thread is fraying more every day.

And I'm scared. I don't know any other life than the one I have.
But a life that's a lie is no life at all.

have you ever?

my favorite poem, slightly edited, to fit my not so favorite mood.
it's times like these, in the middle of finals, in the middle of the night, when everyone is sleeping, when i start to wish things were different.

have you ever?

have you ever lived my life
spent one minute in my shoes?
if you haven't then tell me why
you judge me as you do

have you ever woken up in the morning
wondering if this was your last day on earth?
have you ever left your house
unsure if you'd return?

have you ever seen your friend get shot
outside his favorite store?
have you ever seen a friend die
from drugs he never used before?

have you ever sat beneath the stars
hoping God will hear?
have you ever seen your friend drive away
after way too many beers?

have you ever had a friend
experiment with weed?
have you ever covered up a guilt
by doing a good deed?

have you ever considered suicide
as the only way?
have you ever tried to hide youself
behind the things you say?

have you ever wanted to protect
your friends and everyone in sight?
have you ever felt such pain
that you cried yourself to sleep at night?

have you ever lived my life
spent one minute in my shoes?
if you haven't then tell me why
you judge me as you do.

In daylight, in sunset in midnight in cups of coffee...

I walk down Kingston Avenue, all the stores are open late, people are scurrying about trying to get their last minute Pesach shopping in.
Its rather odd how these are my people, and I feel so much for them, and not at all.

I guess at 21 I should have figured some things out. I think I did. I figured out what I don't want to be like. I realize what I don't want to do. I just haven't realized what I do want to do, who I do want to be.

I hate watching Rebbe videos.
Plain and simple. I hate them.
Not because they can be boring, or because they are oftimes in other languages, but I hate them because they make me feel miserable.

I've always wondered what would have happened if the Rebbe were alive. Would I have gone to see him, to ask him for help, to give me Emunah? Or would I have been even further disgusted in the corruption of Lubavitch and distanced myself farther? I always feel that we have missed something great. We missed the building of a great thing and are left with the remnants. The building is basically finished and we, we are left to cement in some cracks. Fill the potholes and adjust the pipes.

We are the maintenance workers of Chabad, not the builders.

Eltere Chassidim are always telling us how bad they feel for us because we don't have the Rebbe, and all we have is his legacy. I always had a problem with that phrase. I don't know why.

The other reason I hate watching the videos is the way I feel after. I'm not dumb, and I don't bother rationalizing to myself. I am not interested in being perfect. I like the way my life is, and I prefer to not be too religious. But watching those videos, watching the Rebbe stare into my eyes, hearing his words. I feel like he is talking to me, looking right through my facade.



Sometimes I feel myself drawn in, I can't look away, I stand there mesmerized, unmoving. I feel in my soul something I don't want to feel. Something i've been pushing away for years.

In that moment I realize, you can cover your soul up with whatever you want. But you can never hide it, nor change it.

On the D train...

Every Tuesday I go home from college with a friend and our professor. The professor is a non-religious Jew. So we have various discussions about anything from that weeks Literary work to who makes the best french fries.

This weeks discussion wound up being about "Bashert" not the Shidduch kind but the divine providence type, AKA "Hashgocho Protis", I myself do not believe in it. I believe that there are times when yes, things do have a greater picture and it is never evident, or evident too late for us to be glad about it. I believe that the idea of divine providence is an excuse for many people to take the blame off thier shoulders and shift it to GOD.
Though it is nice to blame others, I prefer to let the blame rest on myself.

What do you think?

Adoption in the Jewish World.....

My neighbor S just adopted a baby boy from Korea. They have been married about 10 years, and have tried every avenue short of surrogacy. When I first learnt of their plan to adopt, I was appalled. Not because they were adopting. I believe in adoption, I believe in people who love children taking in other people's children and loving them as their own.

I just don't believe that a Korean child should be brought up in an Orthodox Jewish household. I mean who are we fooling here. The name of the game here is "who can be more religious", right. Would you be the one to let your child play with "that Korean kid"?
Would you invite "that funny looking kid" over for dinner, let your child sleep over at his house? Let you daughter date him? Let us be realistic here, in our quest for perfection and religion we have crossed some lines that have no business being there.

There are people who have adopted children of other races and nationalities, we see them in line at the grocery store, we see them playing with them in the park. We hear about them when no one wants to let them into our precious insular Bais Yaakovs and Yeshivas. Do we as human beings have a right to bring these children into our lives and homes, knowing that they will suffer for the rest of their lives?

This morning was the bris of the little Korean child, no longer Korean in anything but the color of his skin and the slant of his eyes. When I walked into the room for a moment I couldn't breathe, I could do nothing but stare at the face of the proud mommy and daddy. In that moment, I understood what it was about. These two people have gambled with their lives and the life of another as well. They have chosen to mold two worlds into one. But when I saw the joy in their faces, the tears in their eyes, I understood. There is no right, there is no wrong. There are just millions of people trying to do the best they can.

Is there any point?

Is there any point in going through life, if you're going through it alone?

Is there any point in achieving anything if there is no one to share it with?

Is there any point in having free time if all you do is watch "Friends" re-runs. Alone? Because at least while you're watching friends you can forget, just for a few minuites, that your phone didn't ring all day.


"Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets"
-Dr. Paul Tournier

How very true.

I'm not as dumb as you look.

Do you ever get the feeling that people are pulling wool over your eyes. That people are trying to get something out of you without trying to disguise their motive?

This girl in my class just called me up to "talk" because "we haven't spoken in so long." I'll admit for a moment I was flattered. I am bored and could use something interesting to do now. So after like 3 seconds of asking me how I am, she asks me if she can copy my Comp II assignment. Who does she think she is fooling?

Of all the things I hate, I hate people who innocently pretend to be nice, to get something out of other people. I had to bite my tongue to prevent myself from saying that I wouldn't give her the work even if I did have it (as it turns out my class does not have the same assignment as her class.)

This afternoon I went over to *E's house. We spoke for a long time. *E is married and having some marriage issues of her own. After every conversation with her I leave feeling like I want to cry. Not that I would, but that theoretically if I was the crying type (which i'm not) then I would. You know when things are so so so wrong. Too wrong for anyone to fix?
That is what the current situation is like.

It ALMOST- It almost makes me glad i'm still single. Almost.

Am I the habit you're too tired to break?

As I grow older, I find myself drawing away from once fameliar things. I seem to be headed into unchartered territory.

I was reading someone else's blog where she was saying how she has not EVER been on a date. I could ALMOST understand.

I am 21 and have been on 2 dates in my life. 98 percent of my friends are married. They all call me to gush about how amazing married life is and how I should get married. So I always tell them I will as soon as it fits into my schedule. It's not like i'm desperate. I'm not, not at all, in fact that is part of the problem. At 21 we are suppossed to be desperate, and not being desperate kind of puts us, or rather me at an impasse.

In the past 3 weeks, 2 of my good friends have gotten married. Both in two different cities, so I have been busy. Thank god there were othet unmarried friends there, so I was not subject to all the pity.
Save your pity. One day i'll be just as happy as you. Sure it might take a little longer, but for now i'm ok in my cozy little basement with my own little life.