when asked, "are you ready?"
my answer is no
I have so much trouble,
in moments of dispair,
having bitachon and yiras H'.
I can't do "it" yet;
I reach out for my friends
and fall into old patterns
instead of embracing convictions and logic that,
in moments of hope,
I profess belief in.
I'm not ready
but I wish I was
So i'm officially in
(more to come)
now to search my couch cushions
for $12,000
I don't have a couch
*sigh*
I'd Rather Dance With You
I'd rather dance with you
than talk with you,
so why don't we just move into the other room.
There's space for us to shake,
and 'hey, I like this tune'.
Even if I could hear what you said,
I doubt my reply would be interesting
for you to hear.
Because I haven't read a single book all year,
and the only film I saw,
I didn't like it at all.
I'd rather dance than talk with you.
The music's too loud
and the noise from the crowd
increases the chance of misinterpretation.
So let your hips do the talking.
I'll make you laugh by acting like the guy who sings,
and you'll make me smile by really getting into the swing.
I'd rather dance than talk with you.
and having children.
This guy might have some
but they probably don't come over to visit...
Angela Merkel recently failed
in her bid to become Chancellor of Germany
not because of anything she did
but because people saw the destruction
wrought by natural disaster
and the inability of capitalistic
society to provide for its less poor
so they said no
to american style government
and social insurance
and yes
to 15% unemployment
and comprehensive social welfare
Sometimes I think they're right
I mostly just don't know
Dan (rightly) teased me for taking this
It's ginger crusted salmon
on lemongrass and onion pilaf
I should have gone to cooking school
before I converted.
cooking school in Israel?
B is my best friend
I tell her what's driving me nuts
and she doles encouragement
or tochecha
if only I knew how to do it myself
I'm still waiting to hear back from
yeshiva about actually going
rather than having a,
"I'm sure you'll get in"
to go on
A man with a mane
of wavy white hair,
like he's mozart or something,
just walked by
or I'm imagining dead composers
I don't know why I mentioned that... tata
I woke up late this morning
really late
zman krias shem?
no, I was up at zman
"I got home at 5:00am and I'm still sleepy"
So I davened by Beis Naftali
prominently located on the
shabbos killing ninth floor of an
overpriced apartment building
This month has been crap so far.
The high of being
"Goywonder, Master of the Jews"
has worn thinner than a three year-old's safety blanket
I spent a long time in frumville
but lately I feel a pull down apikorsus alley
must... fight...
Worst of all I found out (last night)
that my failure to speak yiddish
means I'm not a yid ;)
Than again of course I'm not a yid...
Ikh heys Shvartzer...
Oyf tsleuchis!
this is elul
a time for repentence
teshuva
a heightening of one's
yiras H'
but I'm asked to dance
and my resolve crumbles
idiot
I was nervous
so I started talking,
all the witty things I think of
turn to verbal diarrhea
in the face of women
so as I was talking
all my thoughts were:
Why'd you say that
What are you doing
ARTICULATE FOOL!
so I talked less
now my thoughts are:
stop walking around
like some deaf mute
and socialize you bastard
so to all I ask,
why do we do this?
I see you with your thrifty prius, earthy subaru
moving the last major industry men with little education can compete in
I see you with your worries about helping the third world
while protecting your workers in a way that doesn't let poor nations to compete
I see you caring, ever so passionately, about the poor, the odd, the different
while donating your money to saving animals that no one has heard of
I see you sip your lattes at starbucks
harvested by panamanian children for 10 cents a day
I see you condemn hate, prejudice
yet you've never befriended anyone from outside your own social class
I see you give money at benefits, concerts
and leave those crazy religious people do the hard work of actually helping the poor, the sick
I see you
I see you
I don't wonder if I'm making a mistake
or why I did this,
but sometimes I'm reminded that I'm "them"
not "us"
and never really will be.
because as one hand welcomes the other pushes away
and an idealist is slowly broken
World Famous (if your world is my apartment) fried wontons
I love food
I think about dream meals
that I'll cook for my non-existant family
like some barefoot and pregnant housewife
my woman of valor
will know how to cook taxes
while I am like the merchant-ships
bringing her food from afar
'toli - ruining shidduchim chances everyday
we walk toward the trees
years before, saplings and underbrush
were cleared for bench
the young trees, mere shadows of the large stands
razed for small palaces surrounded by green moats
her question was too personal, confusing
and I was too young and scared
so I walked and then ran
to the safety of my room
the comfort of sports posters and pet turtles
I realize now that it was obvious
the way I'd looked at her had changed
our interactions
tinged by the end of childhood
If only I'd said yes
We're weak
slow, semi-intelligent
sacs of flesh, blood, and bone
yet we live in arrogant ignorance
behind our walls
of sticks, earth, stone and steel
we are all victims
tossed easily,
like leaves in the wind
judgement snuck up on me.
I woke to elul
this three day weekend;
in which we recall our labor,
our work.
was our year fruitful or futile?
will our employer have nothing
for which to reward us?