Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
it darted out between the cars and into the street.
I've always been terrified that i would hit an animal, or come close to it, and freak out and close my eyes and swerve off the road.
i didn't even notice it until it was like right under my wheels. i didn't even have time to freak out, or close my eyes, or jam on the brakes, or swerve off the road. i didn't even feel it. i wasn't sure I'd actually hit it until i looked in my rear view mirror and saw it lying on the ground.
i couldn't even go back to see if it was really dead or just stunned becuase i was in a rush. i just had to keep driving, completely horrified with myself.
i can't believe i killed something. i feel so bad for that poor squirrel :(
Monday, March 24, 2008
but now I'm really tired. and kind of sleep deprived. and I'm going to take a test in a half hour. so I'll find out if my friend's theory is true, or if it only worked for her.
of course being that i don't work right now (that status might be changing soon) i don't have much to say on organizing your home office. but most people are probably doing that anyway while they're cleaning for chometz (unless they're just wiping everything down and putting the stuff back in its messy order, but that's just weird)
as for national chip and dip day, i thought it was in the summer, becuase that's when we always have chips and salsa. when we're out swimming or having a barbecue (hold up, i think spring fever week is next week) there's something very summery about chip and dip-unless it's at a superbowl party. but whatever it is, celebrate! bring out the taco chips, the nachos, salsa, guacemole, even sour cream if you wish!
happy chip n dip day!
it's almost like sunrise, but not quite as much fun because I'm sitting with all my work. but the house is quiet, no one interrupts me to ask me to drive them to this person, or to cook supper, or to bring them this that or the other. i have peace and quiet.
unless there are noises.
I'm no longer afraid of the creaks and groans of the heating system. and I've almost gotten used to the rabbit (his cage is directly over my head) moving around. it's when there are noises that can only be made by a conscious person, that it starts to get creepy. like a sigh. or a cough. it's even worse when you're home alone. because then you're positive that there shouldn't be anyone making those noises
Saturday, March 22, 2008
i start out the night with a task. i've got a whole night to do what i need to do. whether it's write a paper, talk to a friend, study for a test, decorate a room, or even just waste time.
as the hours go by i get alot done. but then i start to slow down. it's usually around fourish. i seriously entertain the thought of giving up and going to sleep. but i know i'll get more done now. so i plug on. i'm so pumped full of caffiene that i can barely sit still, and i can practically hear my heart racing from the other side of the room!
the sun starts to come up and i race feverishly to finish my work. until, finally! i'm finished. i shower, have another shot of caffiene (somone should invent a way to have a caffeine drip with an IV needle in the arm) and start my day. i'm usually good till about eleven which is when i feel like i'm dead. or floating. hopefully i make it to at least nine o' clock when i can collapse in bed. once i had two all-nighters in a row. i was a disaster for two weeks after that
1. the guy who loves everyone-pretty cute, esp. for teens who lack communication skills. they tell everyone, their parents, brothers, sisters, friends, rabbis-and usually anyone else nearby-that they love them, they're so glad they know them...
2. the spiritual guy-my dad's like this; he fixates on one song and sings it over and over again. this year it was 'ein od milvado' this kind will usually take about forty minutes to bentch, and insist they HAFTA go daven ma'ariv. they also usually shower everyone with brachot, tell their moms/wives they're eishet chayil, tell everyone what they have to fix, and go around convincing people that it's time for moshiach to come
3. they criers-most guys turn into this after they've had alot to drink. they apologize for harm they've done, for not being the best friend/brother/son they can be. they cry because they feel inadequate. they cry because they are so lucky to be jewish...
4. my least favorite type-they guys who get drunk and then embarrass themselves, their families, whoever they're talking to, and whoever they're talking about. they talk about things that are inappropriate, they say what they really feel, but always kept inside. they tell secrets about others that they never were supposed to tell.
5. and of course, the vomiters. but almost everyone turns into this type. you might be able to avoid it if you drink alot of water, which keeps you properly hydtr
Friday, March 21, 2008
my teachers always told me i don't have any self-esteem because i write my "i"s in lowercase. but anyone who knows me even faintly well can tell them that's so not true because my ego is bigger than the grand canyon.
my friend hates it that in my phone book on my phone i don't capitalize names. she says something about how it commands respect for other people when you do it. (i think she got that from a story about a rabbi who had everyone in his phone book written with R' in front of it, or something)
but it's such a waste of time to capitalize names and the beginning of sentences.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
i dunno why. there's just something about the white face, and that fake painted smile that makes me break out in cold sweat.
i never read the book IT by Stephen King, and my friend's husband told me NEVER to read it (he says that's what caused his fear of clowns)
i do remember reading some other book about a clown gone bad, something about a dying grandfather calling out dates before he died...if anyone can validate what I'm saying it would make me feel slightly saner. but i know that it wasn't what caused my fear of clowns because i remember that i was babysitting and i told myself that i wouldn't like the book b/c i didn't like clowns and it had clowns on the cover and a sticker on the spine that said HORROR.
why the heck did i read it?
my friend says i don't like clowns because i hate people who hide behind lies or fake smile. that is definatly true. i can't stand it when people tell me they don't mind going places with me, when all they want is to go home. i mean, just think about it:why would i want to take you if i know you don't want to be with me? it's like people who force themselves where they're not wanted. i never got that. i like to be around people who like me. i like to get the vibe that i'm liked.
but humanity is weird. maybe that's why some parts of it hide beneath the painted face of clowns.
whatever they're reasoning is, they still freak the heck out of me.
so when the hand grabbed this almond, he realized he was probably in trouble. but instead of being shoved into the black hole that had claimed so many before him, he felt himself falling onto the tabletop. the almonds scattered across the shiny white lacquer of the table. suddenly, two fingers came out and scooped up our little friend. terrified, he willed himself to be anywhere else but there. even his cousins, the peach pits were better off than he. at least they didn't get eaten. but instead the almond found himself resting on a shelf inside a cool dark place. to his right, he could see down a long tunnel. at the end of the tunnel was a wall that vibrated anytime any sound was made. the almond was confused. what was going on?
suddenly he heard a laugh "is that an almond in your ear? then the fingers were back, and plucked him out.
(this story is based on true events)
Tuesday, March 18, 2008
someone once told me that people become shrinks to solve their own problems.
i know a kid who creates her own problems. she's got everything going for her-great family who loves her, she's smart, creative, dances well...she craves attention. so much so that she'll act sick or make up issues, not eat or sleep, to get it. i want to shake her sometimes and tell her to snap out of it.
why do human beings need to always be at the top of everything? even the food chain! we always have to be the best, own the biggest....
life used to be really dangerous what with all the plagues, crusades, dramines, and random roaming wife snatchers. now it's even more dangerous with guns, cars, nuclear bombs, and high buildings to fall off of.
happy st. Patrick's day. i once heard a funny joke about Irish and Jews and drinking but i don't remember what it was. but i recall that it really made me laugh.
Monday, March 17, 2008
i feel like an engine that's been running for a week. i'm only getting like three to five hours a night. my body is crying out for sleep and i'm plagued with headaches, but as soon as i get into bed, i'm wide awake.
it's starting to scare me.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
When Kayin gave his korbon of flax to Hashem, Hashem berated him sharply. Kayin became jealous of Hevel whose korbon had been accepted and he killed him. After he was punished, he did teshuva and Hashem forgave him. Then Adam saw what had happened and he sang ‘Mizmor Shir L’yom Hashabbos” why did he do it now? And why did Hashem berate Kayin so sharply for giving only flax?
To understand all this, you have to understand why Adam ate from the Eitz Hadas. Everything in the world belonged to Adam. Was it really just that he couldn’t resist the only thing that was forbidden to him? No. Adam was on a much higher level than that. Adam felt inadequate. Hashem had created him and gave him the entire world. And Adam had nothing to give in return. The nachash told him that by eating from the Eitz Hadas, he’d be an equal with Hashem. And this is what Adam wanted. To be able to give back to Hashem. Which is why he ate from it.
When Kayin and Hevel brought korbonot to Hashem, Kayin gave a small korbon, and Hevel brought an ostentatious one. Hevel brought a huge gorgeous gift to show how little he was compared to Hashem. But Kayin’s gift was so small that it was more like a gesture. You give a gesture to someone who is your equal. And that was why Hashem was so sharp with him-for putting himself on equal terms with Hashem. That was the significance of Adam’s sin-he too thought he could be on equal ground with Hashem. And that’s why when he saw that Hashem had accepted Kayin’s teshuva, he sang Shir.
Friday, March 14, 2008
...people who have their hearts broken and forgive the people who do it
...people who get married and still make time for their single friends
...people who get over a substance or alcohol abuse and make themselves better people
...people who look in the mirror, acknowledge a flaw, and decide they love themselves despite/becuase of it
...people who always seem to know exactly what to say to make me feel better
...to all you people out there, i love you and i admire you. thank you for being my inspiration
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
i was standing by the door of my bedroom, watching my sister play with my family's new toy: a wii (we got it from my dad's boss, he really likes me and my sibs) when i noticed a movement by the window. i looked up, and i saw someone (i think it was a guy) straighten up and walk away, like as if he had been looking in the window. so i kinda freaked and told my dad who went outside to check, and he came back in and reported that he didn't see anyone.
but i know someone was there.
and i'm not sleeping tonight
there's something quiet and beautiful about being out when there's no one around, and the birds aren't even chirping yet. you watch the sky go from dark to blue, to pinkish, and then lots of colors. and then the sun quietly slips up into the sky. sunset is allot noisier because everyone is around, and it's not as pretty because the colors are harsher. sunrise has lighter, softer colors. it's a very nice to sit with myself and think about life and everything. i find that with my busy schedule, i don't get allot of time to myself. and at night when i finally get to bed, i usually pass out the second my head hits the pillow because I'm so zonked. so sunrise gives me a good half hour or more to "get to know myself again" or sometimes i do it with a friend. the right friends understand that they don't have to say anything. we just sit together and watch the sky. i have one friend who i dragged out twenty minutes away from her bed at four thirty so she could see sunrise. she was complaining at first, but afterwards she told me she was glad i did it to her.
i don't get to see it all that often, because I've usually just fallen asleep a few hours before, but i try once a month to get up and watch it. in camp and Israel it was much easier because no one cared if i left at four thirty. but at home, I'd wake too many people up. so i have to just be happy watching it from inside, where i don't have such a good clear view.
as a kid i enjoyed purim. i got to dress up, no school, lots of candy, and we got together with my cousin. but as i got older, it got harder. my costumes got limited. i remember the first year i had an issue. i was dressed up as a vampire, and my mom made me put on a skirt over my pants. i was probably in seventh grade, so i was twelve or thirteen. after that, somehow my costumes never were the same. i was never one to go for costumes like fairies, brides, or princesses. i had already done the old hag and gypsy, so i felt there wasn't much left. i have this theory that if your costume is an inanimate object, you're going to be pretty uncomfortable. when i was like six or so, i dressed up as a flower. all i remember is that i was covered with tissue paper and i rustled and tore every time i turned around. my cousin takes the award for the weirdest costumes. she's been a peeler, a garbage can, a pillow case, and a vase. so when i was going through my angst-ridden-teenager-stage i was a punk for three years. each year i varied the costume slightly, but it was pretty much the same.
besides for the costume department, women have to kind of stay in the background while the men can let loose. not that i want to ride through the streets hanging out of my friend's car, smashed, or puke all over my neighbor's lawn, i just feel like men view women as the ones who put together the mishloach manot, make the food, and then drive them around and clean up after them when they're drunk.
not that i don't like purim. it's fun. and once i learned about the special part of the day, it took on a whole new meaning for me. but there's still something that bothers me, year after year.
Monday, March 10, 2008
you walk through security, towards the women's section, already thinking about what your going to pray for, maybe it's your sister's friend who can't have kids, maybe it's your cousin whose 32 and single, your friend whose having a little bit of trouble keeping shabbos lately-
"'allo, giveret!" a sharp cry interrupts your thoughts. you look down, at tiny wizened old lady sitting in a small chair, with her hands outstretched. why not? you think, it can only help, right? so you dig into your purse...oh no! all you have are a few coins! you pray that at least you have a few shekalim...no such luck. it's all agurot. (and you were saving them for your emergency iced coffee fund) what should you do now? she saw you digging into your purse, you can't walk away now!
so you almost apologetically drop the coins in her cup, and try to slink away-
"plink!" something lands at your feet. you look down. it's the agurot! you look back at her. she looks at you disgusted, and then leans over and spits on the money, and shakes her fist at you. too embarrassed to retrieve your coins, you slink away, and approach the wall, trying to collect your train of thought. oh well, maybe that embarrassment will give you an extra merit.
NOTES: this post is based on a true experience that happened to me last year.
i was inspired by child ish behavior's post about collectors
women all over the world moan and groan that they can't communicate with their Spanish-speaking cleaning ladies. yet somehow, the houses are sparkling and the laundry gets done. and every pesach, the houses are chometz-free. you'd think that after spending six years in this country, they'd learn more English. more than the usual, mop, bucket, sponge, wash, fold, laundry, iron, sweep, floor, bedroom, bathroom, and maybe the occasional shmattta. my brother says cleaning ladies speak in broken English because that's what hear. he says instead of saying "can you please clean the bathroom?" my mom says "maybe you clean bathroom?" in face, I've found that human nature is such that people will talk to others in their language ability. that's why people talk to non-English speakers in a rather broken dialect. the only exception to this rule is the Israelis-they'll still speak to you in rapid-fire Hebrew (even if they know English) while you're left in the dust, picking out the few words you know (yes, no, ok...)
but if you really want to, you can figure out what someone is trying to say, even if you don't speak their language. my friend had a French couple at her house one weekend-he spoke Hebrew and French and she spoke only french. yet somehow both families managed to get through the weekend with only minimal awkwardness.
in eighth grade they told us our yearbook theme would be a passuk about how words from the heart enter the heart. i always personally thought this was just "feel-good-crud" as my friend would say. but then one day my friend came to me with a question i didn't think i could answer. but she needed to hear something. so i took a deep breath....and spoke from the heart (sounds cheesy, i know, but that's really what it was) and somehow, whatever i said was the right thing for her to hear. because i spoke sincerely. so even when you meet someone and you can't really understand them, if you want to, you'll get through.
the exception to this is my biology teacher. she's Indian and she's been in America for like seven years. and we still can't manage to communicate properly with her.
apparently someplace in england there was a shopping center that was frequented by some rough youths, and the adults didn't like them hanging around. so they emitted a very high frequency that adults can't here, but youths can. and it's highly annoying.
whatever the story, i have it on my phone. so today in lab i set my ringer to mosquito and i was able to test without my professor knowing.
but my lab partners got really annoyed.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
i was shocked when i heard this news. how many times had i walked/ridden past that yeshiva, never given it a second thought. my seminary was right near that neighborhood, my cousin lives there. one minute these boys were learning, the next, their friends are lying in their own blood...just stop and think for a second..somewhere out there, eight mothers just received a phone call that their sons are not coming home for shabbos. in fact, their never going to come home again. these mothers will never be able to say to the neighbor "oh i have loads of laundry to do, my son is home from yeshiva" they'll never be able to walk their sons down the aisle, never have the joy of holding a grandson....
when we hear about things that happen in israel, or any other part of the world, we stop what we're doing. we feel bad. maybe even say tehillim. and then we go on. for the families of those who are killed, there is no "getting back to regular life" when there's a bus bomb, or a Kassam rocket, there's a little girl out there who will never be able to have her Abba come sit with her and say shema. a family will never be able to celebrate the bar mitvah of their brother/son. a young girl will never walk to school with her best friend again. it's so easy to become callous and hardened. it's important to remember that in just a few short moments, someone's life is changed forever.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
last week i was driving, when i came to a four-way stop sign. even though I've been driving for almost four years, I'm still pretty good about following the rules of a four-way stop sign. i dunno why I'm good about that specific law (I'm sure my mom would be happier if i was more careful about other laws...say for instance, the speeding one) anyway, i checked carefully to make sure i had the right of way (which i did) and proceeded to make a left turn, when a van came zooming in from my right, barely slowed, and went barreling through the intersection, if i had been maybe two feet more in, he would have plowed into my car. and he didn't even slow down! just kept speeding. when i caught up to him at the light and ended up in the lane next to him, i peeked into the driver's seat...yup it was a chasidish guy! i don't get it-don't these people want to be around for all their kids' weddings? they should slow down and be more careful
so that was my philosophy; rude till proven polite. until the day my brother called me "sweetheart." he's 17. he swears it "slipped out" and he "calls everyone that" but i highly doubt he calls his 6-foot-4 best friend "sweetheart" no. with this slight change of nature, came evenings when he sits and talks with my 14-year-old sister.
while there are still times that i want to beat him up, he's helped me see that not all males (especially the teen-aged variety) are animals.
Monday, March 3, 2008
...when you go to a shoe store, you're excited and energetic, you're convinced you're going to find the pair that's perfect for you...on the first day of camp/school you set off determined to find the girl who will become your best friend for life...
...indeed when you walk in, the vast majority of shoes is astounding, surely you'll find something here...you look around the classroom/bunkhouse to see all different kinds of girls, and one of them is perfect best-friend-material...
...you walk up and down the rows, rejecting one shoe after the other. and why not? this shoe has to be the most comfortable. after all, you're going to be walking around in it...you don't want to be friends with half the girls there, they're too skinny/fat, tall/short/, ugly/pretty, nerdy/intimidating...
...you're halfway through the store and just feeling a little bit desperate. is there no pair that you'll like?...it's the end of the first day, maybe the first week, and you still haven't made a best friend...
...in desperation, you grab a pair and examine it. it's pretty, it's funky, not too expensive, perfect! you try it on , and ignore the slightly pinching feeling in the toes, who cares, you got a really cool pair of shoes!...you befriend someone who is cool and pretty and popular, never mind the face that she's a little nasty...
...two weeks later your toes are really hurting you, and you're wishing you'd never bought the shoes...you start to realize that your "friend" is obnoxious, rude, and is only using you. and now you're stuck in a messed up relationship...
....after countless blisters you finally pull off the shoes and dump them in the trash-and immediately you feel much better...you stand up for yourself and tell this girl that you refuse to be friends with someone who won't treat you the way you deserve...
...you find another pair of shoes, less flashy, maybe not as chic, but when you wear them, you're floating on air...you find another friend, she may not be as cool, but you click right away, and you're comfortable with her as if you've known each other for ages...
yes, friends are like shoes..maybe that's why women have so many of them!
Sunday, March 2, 2008
sure i've seen cheating in high school. i can proudly say that i've never done it, but i've witnessed a few times. then i got to college, where people think nothing of writing all the answers down on their hands. in my first semester, i had a really easy psych professor who would allow us to take the tests whenever we wanted within the week. i always took it at the earliest time to get it over with. before one test, the guy in front of me asked me if i'd email him and tell him what the questions were about. so i said "uh...i don't think so" to which he replied "why not?" it was all i could do not to laugh in his face "cuz it's cheating?" so he shrugged, turned to the girl next to him, and asked her instead.
in a different class the teacher told us her rules for taking her tests, which she based around the cheating incidents she'd had in her classroom:
1. if you wear a hat to the test, the visor had to be backwards (one guy was going cross-eyed looking up at his visor where he'd written the answer)
2. bottles can't have labels on them (someone actually took the trouble to take off the label, write information on the back of it, and glue it back on the bottle)
3. she checks our hands before she gives out the papers (for answers written on them)
4. ditto for the desk
5. ditto for the back of the chair in front of each person
now it might sound crazy, but it seems to me that it's the only way to prevent cheaters from passing. although it's kind of scary that the guy who is preparing your taxes, or the nice doctor who is setting your son's arm really cheated their way through the system. ok maybe I'm exaggerating, i doubt they would get that far, but it's just scary that i'm in an environment with absolutely no conscience or morals (i was surprised when peter said thank-you after i threw him a pencil)
...i didn't wear a shirt all week becuase i was "saving it" to wear to an event(am i the only crazy one who does this?)...and i didn't end up going...
...i studied really hard last minute for a test...the class was canceled so the test got pushed off a week...
...i told my friend i couldn't watch her kids because i wanted to go to sleep early that night...i ended up going to sleep after 2 am...
...i was convinced i was never going to read a certain book and let my friend tell me the ending...the next night while searching for something to read, i came across that book...
...i stayed up late for my sister to come home so i could talk to her about something...she had come home earlier than me and went to bed...
...class after eleven o' clock was canceled due to an impending storm...on the only day i have no classes after eleven...
...i ended up in my friend's town for a weekend...the very weekend she was visiting mine...