"OK, now I'm going to get off my bandwagon"
(don't hurt yourself on the way down, dear)
join the bandwagon, get off your high horse
"biting at the chomp"
(I'm still looking for a chomp....can't find one)
chomping at the bit
"a feather in his bonnet"
(well that would look rather nice, wouldn't it)
feather in your cap, bee in your bonnet
"hey, if the truth fits, wear it!"
(now how's this for size?)
the truth hurts, if the shoe fits wear it
"if truth comes to shove
(she says she was kidding and said this one intentionally, but i have my doubts)
when push comes to shove, if truth be told
"you could have knocked me down with a fender"
(there are very few people i know who can't be knocked down with a fender)
you could have knocked me down with a feather
"you can talk to them till they're ill in the face"
-said by my cpr instructor, about obtaining consent to help a victim (obviously they're ill, that's why I'm trying to help them in the first place!)
"cutting off your nose despite your face"
cut of your nose to spite your face
"we can beat this till I'm dead in the face"
(this one is so messed up, it took me awhile to figure out what she was trying to say)
you can't beat a dead horse, talk till i'm blue in the face
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
dear friend,
i miss you. it's been awhile since we've spoken. last time we did, you told me had nothing against me, you just didn't want to talk to me because you hate all frum Jews. we haven't really spoken since then. oh sure, you friended me on facebook, and i sent you a teddy bear, and you wrote on my wall, but it's not the same. nothing like the long conversations we used to have back in high school. i remember when i first met you. i admired you for being strong and knowing who you were, even with all those around you pressuring you to bend and conform. and i was so happy to be able to be there for you.
but the year after that, i was so busy finishing up with high school, and getting ready to "become and adult" and go out into the "real world" and i was too busy for you. how i wish i could take it all back. and not let go of that awesome bond we created. because after that you went away. and i went to Israel. and you were so unhappy and there was nothing i could do about it. i felt so helpless 6000 miles away.
remember when you called me during bedikas chametz, and i told you i couldn't talk because i was too busy? i wish i could take that back. i wish i could stop my "busy, adult life" and sit and talk to you for hours and hours. i don't care if you changed your lifestyle. i miss your essence. i miss what's inside of you, what drew me to you in the first place.
I'm not asking you to change your way of life, or to come back home. i know life's been harsh to you. I'm just begging you to give me another chance. please, let me in again.
i miss you.
i love you.
love, me
i miss you. it's been awhile since we've spoken. last time we did, you told me had nothing against me, you just didn't want to talk to me because you hate all frum Jews. we haven't really spoken since then. oh sure, you friended me on facebook, and i sent you a teddy bear, and you wrote on my wall, but it's not the same. nothing like the long conversations we used to have back in high school. i remember when i first met you. i admired you for being strong and knowing who you were, even with all those around you pressuring you to bend and conform. and i was so happy to be able to be there for you.
but the year after that, i was so busy finishing up with high school, and getting ready to "become and adult" and go out into the "real world" and i was too busy for you. how i wish i could take it all back. and not let go of that awesome bond we created. because after that you went away. and i went to Israel. and you were so unhappy and there was nothing i could do about it. i felt so helpless 6000 miles away.
remember when you called me during bedikas chametz, and i told you i couldn't talk because i was too busy? i wish i could take that back. i wish i could stop my "busy, adult life" and sit and talk to you for hours and hours. i don't care if you changed your lifestyle. i miss your essence. i miss what's inside of you, what drew me to you in the first place.
I'm not asking you to change your way of life, or to come back home. i know life's been harsh to you. I'm just begging you to give me another chance. please, let me in again.
i miss you.
i love you.
love, me
Friday, May 23, 2008
onlysimchas.com
i stopped posting on onlysimchas awhile ago. i don't even check it out anymore. to begin with, i was never a big fan of surfing that sight anyway. i didn't see the point in checking out random strangers' wedding pictures, aliyah pictures, (just a million pictures in the airport) or birth pictures (the poor wife always looks horrible, but she has no energy to yell at her husband for taking pictures of her)
there has not been a single engagement that I've found out from onlysimchas. with the exception of an old friend who i have not kept up with and not even bothered to wish mazal tov because she would not remember me anyway (i have one of those crazy memories that i can remember faces and names from years ago)
as for posting, again, i see no point in it. by the time the kallah has checked out her page, I've already been to the vort and wished her mazal tov in person. some kallahs don't even know they're on, because they've been put on by their chosson's friends.
there are two different kind of posts
1. the hysterical best friend. this one is complete with long ramblings that mean nothing to anyone else who reads them, besides the kallah who either reads it very late, or doesn't remember half of what the post is referring to, in her ditzy-kallah state:
"MAZAL TOV Chaya!!!! OMG I CANNNOT BELIEVE YOU'RE ENGAGED!!!! AAAAHHHH!! I know i already posted like seven times but i had urge to post again i didnt say enough....dont thnk just bec ure gettin married were still having fun LEDUGMAAAAAAAA our trips to (insert name of frequented restaurant) lol get ready ill start coming to your new house hmmmmmmmmmmmm i wonder where can you guess?????!!!(insert crazy story that happened once, usually highlighiting the kallah's inability to drive) hahahahaha never forget lol.....(random memories, which make absolutely no sense, and are totally not punctuated correctly) MAZAL TOV CHOSSON & KALLAH!!!!Love (some obscure nickname, and if not for the name at the top of the post, the kallah would have no clue who posted it)"
2. the gushy type. whether it's the best friend, or someone who hasn't spoken to the kallah since second grade, this poster feels the need to let everyone know exactly how long they've known the kallah, and they feel it their duty to assure the chosson he's getting a 'prize':
"mazal tov! SORI!! it's crazy, it feels like just yesterday we were in nursery together, blowing our noses on the teacher's skirt and eating sand (here, they insert every embarrassing act the kallah ever did in her early years)and now you're getting MARRIED!!! avi I'm sure you know by now, but you're getting the best! she's an amazing girl! i hope you guys only have ALL the bracha in the world, build a BEAUTIFUL home, and have GORGEOUS kids with TONS of nachas! you look ADORABLE together!! thanks for being the BEST friend EVER!!"
3. short and to the point:
"mazal tov rivky" (if you're going to the vort, you'll say those exact words, and if you've go the kind of relationship where you'll never utter the words to her, is she really going to read your post, remember who you are, and think "oh wow it's so nice to hear from her!"?)
and i always wondered:
since the posts are usually all capitalized, does that mean the poster would be shouting if she said this all in person?
why can't anyone take the time to spellcheck?
do they realize they're making a fool of themselves for all the Jewish world to see?
there has not been a single engagement that I've found out from onlysimchas. with the exception of an old friend who i have not kept up with and not even bothered to wish mazal tov because she would not remember me anyway (i have one of those crazy memories that i can remember faces and names from years ago)
as for posting, again, i see no point in it. by the time the kallah has checked out her page, I've already been to the vort and wished her mazal tov in person. some kallahs don't even know they're on, because they've been put on by their chosson's friends.
there are two different kind of posts
1. the hysterical best friend. this one is complete with long ramblings that mean nothing to anyone else who reads them, besides the kallah who either reads it very late, or doesn't remember half of what the post is referring to, in her ditzy-kallah state:
"MAZAL TOV Chaya!!!! OMG I CANNNOT BELIEVE YOU'RE ENGAGED!!!! AAAAHHHH!! I know i already posted like seven times but i had urge to post again i didnt say enough....dont thnk just bec ure gettin married were still having fun LEDUGMAAAAAAAA our trips to (insert name of frequented restaurant) lol get ready ill start coming to your new house hmmmmmmmmmmmm i wonder where can you guess?????!!!(insert crazy story that happened once, usually highlighiting the kallah's inability to drive) hahahahaha never forget lol.....(random memories, which make absolutely no sense, and are totally not punctuated correctly) MAZAL TOV CHOSSON & KALLAH!!!!Love (some obscure nickname, and if not for the name at the top of the post, the kallah would have no clue who posted it)"
2. the gushy type. whether it's the best friend, or someone who hasn't spoken to the kallah since second grade, this poster feels the need to let everyone know exactly how long they've known the kallah, and they feel it their duty to assure the chosson he's getting a 'prize':
"mazal tov! SORI!! it's crazy, it feels like just yesterday we were in nursery together, blowing our noses on the teacher's skirt and eating sand (here, they insert every embarrassing act the kallah ever did in her early years)and now you're getting MARRIED!!! avi I'm sure you know by now, but you're getting the best! she's an amazing girl! i hope you guys only have ALL the bracha in the world, build a BEAUTIFUL home, and have GORGEOUS kids with TONS of nachas! you look ADORABLE together!! thanks for being the BEST friend EVER!!"
3. short and to the point:
"mazal tov rivky" (if you're going to the vort, you'll say those exact words, and if you've go the kind of relationship where you'll never utter the words to her, is she really going to read your post, remember who you are, and think "oh wow it's so nice to hear from her!"?)
and i always wondered:
since the posts are usually all capitalized, does that mean the poster would be shouting if she said this all in person?
why can't anyone take the time to spellcheck?
do they realize they're making a fool of themselves for all the Jewish world to see?
Thursday, May 22, 2008
day 33
i will never have another lag baomer like the one i had in Israel.
when i was in elementary school, lab baomer meant we would take a trip to a state park, in rain or shine (somehow it was always raining) and i always forgot my lunch at home and had to end up eating the soggy pears and unflavored, unsweetened applesauce that was provided for the kids that ate school lunch. once we got the parks we usually ended up having races or paper clips hunts-yes, they really thought we would get down on our hands and knees and look for little colored pieces of metal among the mud and goose poop of bear mountain state park. after sixth grade we refused to take part in these kind of things, and usually all sat around listening to our Walkmans (we thought we were cool because we listened to hamsa boys) in eighth grade the entire eighth grade (125 girls) collectively, found one paper clip. we really didn't care.
in high school, it wasn't much better. in ninth grade our school had a bonfire in the backyard. all the girls from sternberg went crazy, putting dirt on their faces, leaping around the fire whooping their heads off. i thought they were crazy. our principal took us to some park, where all we wanted to do was tan in the sun and listen to music-by then it was on our ipods. and if i remember correctly, this was when my friends were going through the Yankee-craze phase, so under the guise of old Walkmans, they listened to the games.
our neighborhood had a bonfire every year in a park, but i stopped going a couple of years back, because the thought of standing in the the drizzly cold to roast a couple of marshmallows when i could easily do it over a stove, just didn't appeal to me.
but nothing surpasses lag baomer in meron. we all piled onto a bus and traveled for hours, my Israeli madricha told us stories and taught us all the words to 'bar yochai'-did you know that it's like pages and pages long? i have a friend who still remembers all the words. it was hot and stuffy, but nothing would prepare us for when we got off the bus. we joined the throngs of people walking up the hills towards the kever. it took us about an hour from when we got off the bus, to the doorway of the kever. and another twenty minutes to get inside.
there were people everywhere, from all different walks of life. selling posters, bumper stickers, pins, hats, t-shirts, that sported breslov sayings, as well as the little smiley with the peyot and kippah, in addition to pictures of the rebbe. there were old men, young boys, sheep, and goats. little boys just getting their haircuts, groups of irreligious israeli teenagers wearing little plastic kippot and four inch skirts over their jeans. there were people walking around giving out free water bottles, and EMTs running back and forth with stretchers filled with fainting women. the line for the bathroom was longer than the line to get gas in new jersey, and there was an over abundance of air freshener and no toilet paper. everyone was pushing and shoving, screaming names, and yelling at each other.
one old lady really lost it. she was screaming at us, cursing us out. my friend looked her calmly in the eye, and then yelled back "gam ani ben adam! eifoh hakavod habriyot shelach?"
once we got to the entrance, the guard wasn't letting anyone in because it was too full. he said we would have to wait for people to come out. but man, there were some holy people in there, because they sure weren't coming out. so we asked him very calmly and quietly, to pretty please, let us in. and he did. he moved from the door, and told his friend to let us come in.
boy, if we thought it was hot outside, it was sweltering inside! but at least we got to go inside. we didn't get anywhere near the actual kever of course, no way was i going to wriggle myself between millions of sweaty people.
trying to get back to the bus was an experience in itself. we were going against the tide. one of my friends who is really short stopped walking for a second, and was swept backwards. it was really scary, how close she came to being trampled.
when i was in elementary school, lab baomer meant we would take a trip to a state park, in rain or shine (somehow it was always raining) and i always forgot my lunch at home and had to end up eating the soggy pears and unflavored, unsweetened applesauce that was provided for the kids that ate school lunch. once we got the parks we usually ended up having races or paper clips hunts-yes, they really thought we would get down on our hands and knees and look for little colored pieces of metal among the mud and goose poop of bear mountain state park. after sixth grade we refused to take part in these kind of things, and usually all sat around listening to our Walkmans (we thought we were cool because we listened to hamsa boys) in eighth grade the entire eighth grade (125 girls) collectively, found one paper clip. we really didn't care.
in high school, it wasn't much better. in ninth grade our school had a bonfire in the backyard. all the girls from sternberg went crazy, putting dirt on their faces, leaping around the fire whooping their heads off. i thought they were crazy. our principal took us to some park, where all we wanted to do was tan in the sun and listen to music-by then it was on our ipods. and if i remember correctly, this was when my friends were going through the Yankee-craze phase, so under the guise of old Walkmans, they listened to the games.
our neighborhood had a bonfire every year in a park, but i stopped going a couple of years back, because the thought of standing in the the drizzly cold to roast a couple of marshmallows when i could easily do it over a stove, just didn't appeal to me.
but nothing surpasses lag baomer in meron. we all piled onto a bus and traveled for hours, my Israeli madricha told us stories and taught us all the words to 'bar yochai'-did you know that it's like pages and pages long? i have a friend who still remembers all the words. it was hot and stuffy, but nothing would prepare us for when we got off the bus. we joined the throngs of people walking up the hills towards the kever. it took us about an hour from when we got off the bus, to the doorway of the kever. and another twenty minutes to get inside.
there were people everywhere, from all different walks of life. selling posters, bumper stickers, pins, hats, t-shirts, that sported breslov sayings, as well as the little smiley with the peyot and kippah, in addition to pictures of the rebbe. there were old men, young boys, sheep, and goats. little boys just getting their haircuts, groups of irreligious israeli teenagers wearing little plastic kippot and four inch skirts over their jeans. there were people walking around giving out free water bottles, and EMTs running back and forth with stretchers filled with fainting women. the line for the bathroom was longer than the line to get gas in new jersey, and there was an over abundance of air freshener and no toilet paper. everyone was pushing and shoving, screaming names, and yelling at each other.
one old lady really lost it. she was screaming at us, cursing us out. my friend looked her calmly in the eye, and then yelled back "gam ani ben adam! eifoh hakavod habriyot shelach?"
once we got to the entrance, the guard wasn't letting anyone in because it was too full. he said we would have to wait for people to come out. but man, there were some holy people in there, because they sure weren't coming out. so we asked him very calmly and quietly, to pretty please, let us in. and he did. he moved from the door, and told his friend to let us come in.
boy, if we thought it was hot outside, it was sweltering inside! but at least we got to go inside. we didn't get anywhere near the actual kever of course, no way was i going to wriggle myself between millions of sweaty people.
trying to get back to the bus was an experience in itself. we were going against the tide. one of my friends who is really short stopped walking for a second, and was swept backwards. it was really scary, how close she came to being trampled.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
its' that kind of mad frustration...the kind that has me blinking back tears of anger. i feel like a little kid again, and I've just been told that i can't go to my friend's house to sleep over. and i want to cry. i know that it won't solve anything, and it's probably not the most mature reaction, but that's what I'm feeling right now. if i didn't know better, i would kick the wall really hard, but that's not a wise thing to do either.
i just gotta keep reminding myself that things like this happen. and I'm going to do everything i can to make sure I'm never, ever in this situation again. ever.
i just gotta keep reminding myself that things like this happen. and I'm going to do everything i can to make sure I'm never, ever in this situation again. ever.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
tattoos that made me stop and wonder...
the girl who sat next to me last semester...three greek characters across the inside of her wrist...
the guy going down the stairs in front of me...a butterfly on the back of his neck...
the girl in line in front of me at the bursar's office...a line of writing around the back of her heel...
the lady who works at the front desk at the nursing department...the weird upside-down chinese symbol on the back of her hand...
the guy who sat next to me in photography class (which i got an A in)...a beetle under his earlobe...
the guy going down the stairs in front of me...a butterfly on the back of his neck...
the girl in line in front of me at the bursar's office...a line of writing around the back of her heel...
the lady who works at the front desk at the nursing department...the weird upside-down chinese symbol on the back of her hand...
the guy who sat next to me in photography class (which i got an A in)...a beetle under his earlobe...
bamboozled
i learned alot of things at college this semester, but one thing i learned is that my classmates are animals who find it entertaining to jump on people.
the bamboozle annual two-day musical festival held in new jersey. every year the hottest bands compete to play in the lineup. apparantly everyone besides for myself, my two frum classmates, and my lab partner who thought she was too old to go, but whose son went instead. everyone was sunburned and hoarse. as i listened to two of them talking, i learned about a new sport called moshing. moshing is when people at metal or rock concerts aggresively push or slam into each other, for absolutely no reason at all. apparantly one guy was run into so hard that he fell and banged his head and the band had to stop playing so they could call security and get the guy out to take care of him. my classmate was actually laughing as he told this story.
maybe it's just becuasae i'm a girl so i feel bad about something like this happening, but i still dont get how people can find stuff like that funny or amusing. it's awful and horrible, and yet again, i'm really glad to know that i'm not like everyone else in my class
the bamboozle annual two-day musical festival held in new jersey. every year the hottest bands compete to play in the lineup. apparantly everyone besides for myself, my two frum classmates, and my lab partner who thought she was too old to go, but whose son went instead. everyone was sunburned and hoarse. as i listened to two of them talking, i learned about a new sport called moshing. moshing is when people at metal or rock concerts aggresively push or slam into each other, for absolutely no reason at all. apparantly one guy was run into so hard that he fell and banged his head and the band had to stop playing so they could call security and get the guy out to take care of him. my classmate was actually laughing as he told this story.
maybe it's just becuasae i'm a girl so i feel bad about something like this happening, but i still dont get how people can find stuff like that funny or amusing. it's awful and horrible, and yet again, i'm really glad to know that i'm not like everyone else in my class
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
you can do it, but we're so not helping!
my dad had to make a trip to home depot today to buy some piping and other things for our pool. i love spending time with him so i offered to come along.
big mistake.
home depot is not a store for girls.
as we were pulling in, i rememebered the other times i've been to home depot in high school. once to buy four 10 lb. bags of sand. and once to buy three 15 ft. pipes.
i never thought there could be so many different kinds of sands. there was a whole aisle just for sand. to me, sand is sand. ok, there's white or yellow, but that's just about it. so i finally choose the bags i want and of course i dragged the bags all the way to the check out counter to find that one of them had a whole in it-i looked behind me and-yup, there was a trail of sand all the way from the last aisle, through the entire store.
i'm not even going to elaborate on what happened with the poles, but at one point, i was holding them under my arms when my friend called my name from behind me. i swung around, and some poor innocent old man lost his hat.
so needless to say, i was less than thrilled to be back.
now here's a lesson for when you go to Home Depot: make sure you know exactly what you're looking for. i mean like th e size, shape, color, and even then you'll have about fifteen different ones to choose from. we must have spent a good twenty minutes looking at little screwy things that go on the end of the pipes.
i was put in charge of the cart. you know the home depot carts, the fifteen foot stage on wheels with the bars on top. pulling that was like driving a truck. imagine having to parallel park a suburban by hand. that's how i felt when i tried to pull my cart over to the side of the aisle. plus i had four ten foot pipes sticking out of the ends-and i was on the phone-they really can give out tickets for that. i ran over my own feet like six times, banged into at least three other carts, and only knocked over one display. then while i was trying to get my cart on line to pay, a guy came overe and started talking to me. i think he only wanted to ask where the line ended, but hello, did he not SEE i was having a difficult time and was not capable of communicating because i was busy muttering obscenities at my cart under my breath? and the guys who work there are anything but helpful. they just zoom around on those moving stepladder things, honking at people and terrorizing old ladies looking at bathtubs.
so the next i go there, i'm going equipped with steel toed boots and a bottle of prozac
so needless to say, i was less than thrilled to be back.
now here's a lesson for when you go to Home Depot: make sure you know exactly what you're looking for. i mean like th e size, shape, color, and even then you'll have about fifteen different ones to choose from. we must have spent a good twenty minutes looking at little screwy things that go on the end of the pipes.
i was put in charge of the cart. you know the home depot carts, the fifteen foot stage on wheels with the bars on top. pulling that was like driving a truck. imagine having to parallel park a suburban by hand. that's how i felt when i tried to pull my cart over to the side of the aisle. plus i had four ten foot pipes sticking out of the ends-and i was on the phone-they really can give out tickets for that. i ran over my own feet like six times, banged into at least three other carts, and only knocked over one display. then while i was trying to get my cart on line to pay, a guy came overe and started talking to me. i think he only wanted to ask where the line ended, but hello, did he not SEE i was having a difficult time and was not capable of communicating because i was busy muttering obscenities at my cart under my breath? and the guys who work there are anything but helpful. they just zoom around on those moving stepladder things, honking at people and terrorizing old ladies looking at bathtubs.
so the next i go there, i'm going equipped with steel toed boots and a bottle of prozac
Friday, May 9, 2008
what is it about jumbled wires and cords that annoys me?
i can't stand untangling things. and my stuff is always getting tangled. i keep a power strip plugged in to my outlet so i can charge everything overnight, and right now my phone charger, ipod charger, laptop charger, headset charger, ipod headphones and speakers are lying hopelessly tangled. ugh. i just get so frustrated and annoyed when i have to untangle things. it's one of those little things that i never really thought about till now and i now i'm suprised to find how much it irks me.
even when i've cleaned up my room, straightened and made my sister's bed, vaccumed the floor, that pile of parephenelia jumps out at me when i walk in the door
i can't stand untangling things. and my stuff is always getting tangled. i keep a power strip plugged in to my outlet so i can charge everything overnight, and right now my phone charger, ipod charger, laptop charger, headset charger, ipod headphones and speakers are lying hopelessly tangled. ugh. i just get so frustrated and annoyed when i have to untangle things. it's one of those little things that i never really thought about till now and i now i'm suprised to find how much it irks me.
even when i've cleaned up my room, straightened and made my sister's bed, vaccumed the floor, that pile of parephenelia jumps out at me when i walk in the door
Sunday, May 4, 2008
weddings
i went to a wedding a few weeks ago. that's always a long haul. it's probably easier for guys because they don't have to do the whole hair and makeup thing, and my friend said once you cover your hair it cuts down preparation time in half. add a two hour drive, and a final the next day, and i really didn't want to go. but the girl getting married had once upon a time been a good friend of mine, and i had personally promised her I'd be at her wedding, so i dutifully told my boss i had to leave early, and sailed out of my office at three, with my co-workers glaring at me behind my backs-not really, everyone else in my office takes very long lunch and mincha breaks and i usually work through lunch.
so i go home and wonder to myself who the idiots are who decided that heels are the height of fashion-it must have been a guy. or did some crazed female put them on and think to herself "my toes are cramped, my muscles are screaming in agony...now THIS feels good!" ? i have one friend who always wears heels. she's practically more comfortable in heels than flats! she got it from her mother who also always wears flats. i tell her all the time that i can swear she must have barbie feet. y'know, the toes are permanently pointing downward, leaving her no choice but to wear flats....
i left a half hour later because my friend wasn't ready, and i had to stop for gas because i forgot to fill up in advance and it took my friend awhile to figure out how to pump (guess she doesn't fill up her daddy's car) but the ride was ok, with only minimal traffic. still, we got there just in time to hear everyone shout mazal tov and listen to all the chosson's friends sing od yishama completely out of sync with the band. (funny, you'd think that after enough weddings, they would learn the correct beats)
the families were both from out of town-meaning out of the tri-state area-but they all flew in for the wedding, for various reasons, some of which i still do not get. the wedding was nice though, i subjected my friend to the usual wedding rants; why do they play that song about getting ready for shabbos at all weddings, even if they're on Sunday nights?why do all those women in black hover around the tables looking for prospective daughters-in-law? can't they see I'm trying to eat my carbs? don't they notice that I'm trying to have a conversation with my friend whose now freezing in nervousness and doesn't want to talk for fear of saying anything too liberal and being overheard? and what's the deal with the whole umbrella thing? it just costs money to rent from a gemach, everyone looks sweaty in the picture and the kallah looks terrified because she's perched precariously on top of a rickety table, the little nieces start crying because they can't reach a string, and it costs more money to have it fixed after half the strings rip off because everyone is tugging at them.
the dancing was not so bad because the hall was huge, with ample room (although somehow, i still managed to get stepped on) the funny thing about dancing is that it's the only time I'm willing to grab a random sweaty stranger's hand. but i draw the line when they're holding a dirty tissue (and this has happened to me) i mean, do you really think you can blow your nose while your dancing?
so all together, it wasn't a bad night, and as i eased my aching toes out of my shoes and set my car onto cruise control, i figured that I'd had fun, saw some old friends, and i hope my friends will one day make the trek for me
so i go home and wonder to myself who the idiots are who decided that heels are the height of fashion-it must have been a guy. or did some crazed female put them on and think to herself "my toes are cramped, my muscles are screaming in agony...now THIS feels good!" ? i have one friend who always wears heels. she's practically more comfortable in heels than flats! she got it from her mother who also always wears flats. i tell her all the time that i can swear she must have barbie feet. y'know, the toes are permanently pointing downward, leaving her no choice but to wear flats....
i left a half hour later because my friend wasn't ready, and i had to stop for gas because i forgot to fill up in advance and it took my friend awhile to figure out how to pump (guess she doesn't fill up her daddy's car) but the ride was ok, with only minimal traffic. still, we got there just in time to hear everyone shout mazal tov and listen to all the chosson's friends sing od yishama completely out of sync with the band. (funny, you'd think that after enough weddings, they would learn the correct beats)
the families were both from out of town-meaning out of the tri-state area-but they all flew in for the wedding, for various reasons, some of which i still do not get. the wedding was nice though, i subjected my friend to the usual wedding rants; why do they play that song about getting ready for shabbos at all weddings, even if they're on Sunday nights?why do all those women in black hover around the tables looking for prospective daughters-in-law? can't they see I'm trying to eat my carbs? don't they notice that I'm trying to have a conversation with my friend whose now freezing in nervousness and doesn't want to talk for fear of saying anything too liberal and being overheard? and what's the deal with the whole umbrella thing? it just costs money to rent from a gemach, everyone looks sweaty in the picture and the kallah looks terrified because she's perched precariously on top of a rickety table, the little nieces start crying because they can't reach a string, and it costs more money to have it fixed after half the strings rip off because everyone is tugging at them.
the dancing was not so bad because the hall was huge, with ample room (although somehow, i still managed to get stepped on) the funny thing about dancing is that it's the only time I'm willing to grab a random sweaty stranger's hand. but i draw the line when they're holding a dirty tissue (and this has happened to me) i mean, do you really think you can blow your nose while your dancing?
so all together, it wasn't a bad night, and as i eased my aching toes out of my shoes and set my car onto cruise control, i figured that I'd had fun, saw some old friends, and i hope my friends will one day make the trek for me
killers in the backseat
i went away for the weekend and came back late last night. i got into my car which was left parked there. about three minutes after i got into the car, i turned around at a red light to look in the backseat to see if anyone was in the backseat. i don't know how anyone could really get into my car but i didn't want to take any chances. you hear all these crazy stories (although half of them aren't true, like this one) about mass murderers who hide in backseats of cars. it's one of those irrational fears that i usualy don't have. my friend was just telling me that everytime she goes into the bathroom she checks behind the shower curtain to make sure no one is hiding there. i never do that. i don't have to double and triple check the lock on the front door before i go to sleep either. but at two am, when everything is very dark and cold and quiet, you never know what dangers are lurking in the backseat of your car.
Friday, May 2, 2008
shopping in the lower end stores
you can argue that you'll find the same clothing in a store like lord and taylor and in marshall's, but you have to be willing to sift through racks and racks of clothing, rub shoulders with (sometimes) undesirable people, and deal with bored obnoxious cashiers.
and then there's the issue of the dressing rooms.
in nicer stores, there are alot of dressing rooms, with carpeting, chairs, and a decent smell. i was in a discount store and i got nauseous from going into the fitting rooms. it was cold, and dirty, and the lighting was bad. the individual rooms were teeny. and half of them were unusable.
the first one didn't have a door
the second one had a door, but it didn't close properly
the third one had a door that closed, but no lock
the fourth one had a door and a lock, but the lock was broken
the fifth one had no mirror
the sixth smelled really bad
so i had to take the seventh room. by this time i was practically dizzy from going in and out of every room
the woman in the room next to me was yelling at her daughter on the phone, who'd apparantly let the supper burn, or something. next to her, a girl was telling her friend about the woes of her love life-or lack of, as it seemed to me.
but somehow it all seems worth it when you find really great buys. but when i don't find anything, i'm ready to give up and leave those stores to the dogs. (or the foreign people who regularly shop there)
and then there's the issue of the dressing rooms.
in nicer stores, there are alot of dressing rooms, with carpeting, chairs, and a decent smell. i was in a discount store and i got nauseous from going into the fitting rooms. it was cold, and dirty, and the lighting was bad. the individual rooms were teeny. and half of them were unusable.
the first one didn't have a door
the second one had a door, but it didn't close properly
the third one had a door that closed, but no lock
the fourth one had a door and a lock, but the lock was broken
the fifth one had no mirror
the sixth smelled really bad
so i had to take the seventh room. by this time i was practically dizzy from going in and out of every room
the woman in the room next to me was yelling at her daughter on the phone, who'd apparantly let the supper burn, or something. next to her, a girl was telling her friend about the woes of her love life-or lack of, as it seemed to me.
but somehow it all seems worth it when you find really great buys. but when i don't find anything, i'm ready to give up and leave those stores to the dogs. (or the foreign people who regularly shop there)
rules for calling shotgun
Rules for calling shotgun
1. The Shot gunner must be in clear sight of the car, and shotgun can be called regardless of whether the driver is in sight of the car
2. If you are the first to be picked up on a journey, you are automatically given shotgun, until you violate the other shotgun laws and thus, forfeit your position, the seat is yours
3. You cannot declare shot gun if someone has previously declared shotgun for that journey.
4. When simultaneous shotgun is called, there is then a foot race to the passenger side door from the all the people who called
5. Shotgun cannot be called whilst inside a building (unless you are in a multi story or underground car park!)
6. Shotgun cannot be called in advance, only whilst on the way to the car for the journey
7. On the call shotgun if the driver wants to mix things up a bit he can call reload, this means that all calls of shotgun before that are void and the first person to call shotgun again gets the seat... and if u plain don't like the person who called shotgun. This is often used when there is a simultaneous call and the driver is unsure of the outcome, also a shotgun can have 2 barrels so a reload can only be called once
9. Once shotgun has been called for the front seat then back left and back right can be called, thus leaving the fifth person who is traveling in the middle seat (or hump seat)
10. Being as how everyone is created equal, men have the same right as women to the front seat of the car. I.e. women don't own the front seat!
11. In the instance that the normal driver of a vehicle is drunk or otherwise unable to perform their duties as driver, then he/she is automatically given Shotgun.
12. Once the journey is underway, the driver is the obvious controller of the tunes. However if they feel the road needs their full concentration, or they simply cannot have any more, duty is passed to the shot gunner. However putting on bad tunes or allowing for silence when the ipod finishes a song or ANY instances of TAKE THAT will result in demotion to hump seat.
13. Shoe Rule, anyone calling shotgun must have their shoes on, this is to stop people running outside and calling shotgun, then having to go back inside to put their shoes on, thus slowing the journey
14. Shotgun overrules Dibs, Baggsy's and other girly calls!
15. Despite the debate, shotgun can be used to shotgun things other than the front seat (e.g. back left, back right, not going to answer the door etc)
17. If someone has successfully called shotgun, this gives them no right whatsoever to correct the driver on their navigation skills ("take a left here you idiot!") or driving ability ("I'd be in third gear if I was driving") if the passenger does this then they forfeit their position as shotgun holder
18. If someone says "what’s shotgun?" after it has been called then they have to walk
19. If you come up to the car and shotgun has already been called, the driver gets in and reaches over to unlock the shotgun door. If shotgun opens it before it’s actually unlocked, (this happens when the driver is still trying to unlock it and person pulls on handle) they have to give up there rights as shotgun. Therefore, shotgun suicide!
20. The successful shot gunner, in the front of a vehicle, assumes the responsibility for all gate opening, takeaway ordering and question asking. He/she is, in essence the co-pilot and therefore the enforcer of behavior in the vehicle and exacter of slaps/punches/water spraying/bag throwing at the passengers in the back.
21. Automatic "owner’s rights act 1997". This is that, if the owners of the car are traveling in the car, they have the right to the seat of their choice.
22. The Pirate Rule - If One of the potential occupants of the vehicle is dressed (convincingly) as a pirate then they are given automatic shotgun. In the occurrence of more than one pirate then a sword fight shall determine the successful shot gunner.
24. The person riding shotgun must provide sufficient leg room to the person behind them but only to the point where the shot gunner is still comfortable
25. The shot gunner must hold the toll ticket (he/she must not put it to the side because it falls under the seat, putting it under the car visor or in the glove compartment is ok.) The shot gunner must also find change when coming upon a toll booth.
26. When a car is going through a drive-thru of a fast food restaurant, the person next to the driver must hold all of the food items/drinks, no matter how hot or cold, until the vehicle is safely out of the drive-thru path. Then they must distribute the items to their owners.
1. The Shot gunner must be in clear sight of the car, and shotgun can be called regardless of whether the driver is in sight of the car
2. If you are the first to be picked up on a journey, you are automatically given shotgun, until you violate the other shotgun laws and thus, forfeit your position, the seat is yours
3. You cannot declare shot gun if someone has previously declared shotgun for that journey.
4. When simultaneous shotgun is called, there is then a foot race to the passenger side door from the all the people who called
5. Shotgun cannot be called whilst inside a building (unless you are in a multi story or underground car park!)
6. Shotgun cannot be called in advance, only whilst on the way to the car for the journey
7. On the call shotgun if the driver wants to mix things up a bit he can call reload, this means that all calls of shotgun before that are void and the first person to call shotgun again gets the seat... and if u plain don't like the person who called shotgun. This is often used when there is a simultaneous call and the driver is unsure of the outcome, also a shotgun can have 2 barrels so a reload can only be called once
9. Once shotgun has been called for the front seat then back left and back right can be called, thus leaving the fifth person who is traveling in the middle seat (or hump seat)
10. Being as how everyone is created equal, men have the same right as women to the front seat of the car. I.e. women don't own the front seat!
11. In the instance that the normal driver of a vehicle is drunk or otherwise unable to perform their duties as driver, then he/she is automatically given Shotgun.
12. Once the journey is underway, the driver is the obvious controller of the tunes. However if they feel the road needs their full concentration, or they simply cannot have any more, duty is passed to the shot gunner. However putting on bad tunes or allowing for silence when the ipod finishes a song or ANY instances of TAKE THAT will result in demotion to hump seat.
13. Shoe Rule, anyone calling shotgun must have their shoes on, this is to stop people running outside and calling shotgun, then having to go back inside to put their shoes on, thus slowing the journey
14. Shotgun overrules Dibs, Baggsy's and other girly calls!
15. Despite the debate, shotgun can be used to shotgun things other than the front seat (e.g. back left, back right, not going to answer the door etc)
17. If someone has successfully called shotgun, this gives them no right whatsoever to correct the driver on their navigation skills ("take a left here you idiot!") or driving ability ("I'd be in third gear if I was driving") if the passenger does this then they forfeit their position as shotgun holder
18. If someone says "what’s shotgun?" after it has been called then they have to walk
19. If you come up to the car and shotgun has already been called, the driver gets in and reaches over to unlock the shotgun door. If shotgun opens it before it’s actually unlocked, (this happens when the driver is still trying to unlock it and person pulls on handle) they have to give up there rights as shotgun. Therefore, shotgun suicide!
20. The successful shot gunner, in the front of a vehicle, assumes the responsibility for all gate opening, takeaway ordering and question asking. He/she is, in essence the co-pilot and therefore the enforcer of behavior in the vehicle and exacter of slaps/punches/water spraying/bag throwing at the passengers in the back.
21. Automatic "owner’s rights act 1997". This is that, if the owners of the car are traveling in the car, they have the right to the seat of their choice.
22. The Pirate Rule - If One of the potential occupants of the vehicle is dressed (convincingly) as a pirate then they are given automatic shotgun. In the occurrence of more than one pirate then a sword fight shall determine the successful shot gunner.
24. The person riding shotgun must provide sufficient leg room to the person behind them but only to the point where the shot gunner is still comfortable
25. The shot gunner must hold the toll ticket (he/she must not put it to the side because it falls under the seat, putting it under the car visor or in the glove compartment is ok.) The shot gunner must also find change when coming upon a toll booth.
26. When a car is going through a drive-thru of a fast food restaurant, the person next to the driver must hold all of the food items/drinks, no matter how hot or cold, until the vehicle is safely out of the drive-thru path. Then they must distribute the items to their owners.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
