You may have noticed that the word “furtive” has disappeared from my slugline.
I finally managed to tell my family. My mom said, “I’m surprised you didn’t tell me this earlier.”
*sigh* Well, I’m glad it went the good way of the two possibilities I thought of.
On a completely unrelated note, I believe you could (if you felt so inclined) sing “Adon Olam” to the tune of “Amazing Grace.”
I’m not sure if that’s funny, offensive, blasphemous, or all of the above, but it does in fact demonstrate the wonders of common meter. See, a degree in English is useful!
An old friend of mine seems to have unfriended me on Facebook, probably because I made an ill-advised comment on one of her posts, but less proximally because we seem to be just drifting apart. Since I stopped being so willing to do Friday night movies or Saturday afternoon outings with a lot of my friends here in town, and since three of them have taken to working out together (which I do at a gym, usually with a trainer, as I have done for 3.5 years or so now), my relationships with them have been fraying. It may be just the kick in the pants (or skirt-seat, as the case may be) I need to move out of my current living situation and move closer to the shul. But man, am I going to miss my garden. So, combine that with the impending loss of my job, and I’m feeling a little down…again. I haven’t had very many days of being not-depressed since September of last year.
On the other hand, I finally got my application in to the Beit Din. It took me quite a while to round up all the pieces and parts, alas.
And I still haven’t had the opportunity to tell my family, <i>or</i> my oldest remaining friend yet, either.
For those of you celebrating the civil New Year tonight, please don’t drink and drive. I take this very personally, because 12 years ago, my sister, then 18, was hit almost head-on while driving, by a drunk driver with a list of priors as thick as an old NYNEX telephone book. He’d been in a bar, and the bartender had taken his keys away, but he had a spare set. I’m given to understand he got a nice taxpayer-funded vacation in a stone hotel somewhere out of the deal.
Her defensive driving probably saved her life, as she was able to swerve and avoid a full head-on collision. As it was, the crash put the engine block of my parents’ Chevy SUV on her feet.
She had serious injuries, went into hypermetabolism, and is still suffering the aftereffects today. She lost her last year of high school and had to do extensive adult ed to catch back up, due to a curriculum change. I’m very grateful our family didn’t have to bury her that year, but by the same token, she has never been the same since.
Please don’t drink and drive. The life you save may not even be your own. Thank you.
Note: And for the dati folks out there, the minor fast of the Tenth of Tevet, which commemorates the beginning of the siege of Jerusalem by the Babylonians, begins at 6:33AM tomorrow and ends at 5:26PM. Drink lots of water!
Thank G-d that’s over.
I’m still nominally doing Christmas things because I’m still furtive for the moment (that’s about to change soon, B”H, more later) and it’s a matter of shalom habayit right now. I don’t need to be brogez with the folks any sooner than I have to be. (It won’t be the first, or last, time.)
Christmas Eve (“Erev Xmas”) I went to a friend’s house for a very subdued party, which was nice, even if one of the attendees was recovering from food poisoning and another one was just feeling out of sorts and the rest of us were exhausted. (I did almost all my Christmas shopping — except for wrapping, the only part I truly enjoy — in two days, Monday and Tuesday. Lots of running around.)
It was also my parents’ 48th wedding anniversary on the 24th. They claim that it was the only time they could both get off work and they could get a hall; I think at least part of it is that my mother thought a Christmas wedding would be romantic, since she is about the World’s Biggest Christmas Freak. (This is where I see some friction coming in.) I didn’t do anything with them because they don’t really do anything with family outside of the big milestone anniversaries anymore. Which reminds me, I’d better become employed soon and start putting away a pot of money, because Guess Who is probably going to have to organise the 50th anniversary party. If you said, “You are, Sara-Elisheva!”, you’d be right!
I also observed Hanukkah as best as I was able, given that I once again couldn’t find the skinny candles that fit in my hanukiyah and I don’t have oil pots for it, so I had to improvise. I will either replace the thing or get oil pots for it for next year. Doubtless I’ll be in Toronto between now and then, and I can make it to a Judaica store. I love Hanukkah and what it represents, although less the miracle aspect of it than the “let Jews be Jews” aspect. (Apparently, given some of my hate mail, that’s a controversial position in some quarters.)
And on Boxing Day, I spent most of the day either sleeping or frantically prepping for Shabbat. And then it was Shabbat.
Shabbat Recap to come, but that’s quite enough for now.
Well, you can pretty much guess what happened this week. I did pretty well with observance generally, although I didn’t make it to shul again. I <i>hate</i> being off my schedule (unemployment sucks), but my sleep cycle has gone to the bad place tenuously-grasped sleep cycles go when they die of brain trauma, and I’m having trouble with motivation generally.
I do have some more articles to post, soonishly, so stay tuned.
My condolences to the folks at my ex-work who lost their jobs in the Jerusalem layoffs on Sunday; behatzlacha in the future!
In this post I talked about El Al being in the news for preferentially catering to the whims of Haredi male passengers over their female clientele, and the Haredi men in question cutting up cranky over being assigned seats next to women, causing flight delays (and probably massive headaches among flight crews).
What I neglected to mention in that post was that my dad is a retired commercial pilot, and he had an incident once that he told me about (there may have been others, but this is the one I know about) where a guy was disorderly and would not sit down and let the plane take off. My dad had a male flight attendant “escort” the fellow off the plane, and had law enforcement waiting at the gate to arrest him. These days, you can get in some pretty heavy trouble by carrying on like that on a commercial flight, at least in North America…
I recommend this approach to El Al. Maybe after the first few groups of tantrum-throwers find themselves being escorted away to have a little chat with airport security and/or the local police, the incidents would stop.
My housemate just walked in here carrying what he described as a “rasta tribble” made of his own fallen hair and various detritus from under his desk. I saw the thing, which was practically the size of a small cantaloupe, and screamed “AAAAUGH! JESUS CHRIST!!”
Apparently I still swear like a goy when my guard is down… Whoops.