to one of mine

i was up all night thinking about this, and about you, and how to say this. i could never say it to you in person, but i think you read my blog.

we live in a society, maybe a world, where a lot of people are mysogonists. that doesn't mean that they hate women, per se, rather that they have a v unrealistic vision of what Woman is. these are the guys who hold women up on a pedestaal, and say all kinds of flowery beautiful statements about them, but at the end of the day, if the woman doesn't meet his expectations, or voices an opinion which he finds to be unfeminine for whatever reason, the hate and vitriol start pouring out.

you've heard it, read it, seen it. "I love women, but they should know their place." i'm afraid that this viewpoint, this twisted version of life, is something you've become convinvced is true in your own life. i've heard you refer to yourself as a bitch, and a slut - always with a wry grin on your face - and i've seen you collapsse in tears wanting to know why the world judges for doing things no differently than the boys do. why people can't seee how nice you really are.

your having opinions, and voicing them - that does not make you a bitch. a bitch is someone who maliciously attacks people. if stating that you disagree with someone is perceived as an attack by that person, it is not your problem, it is not your fault.

by the same token, you need to decide how you feel about people who fool around. either it's ok, or it's not. but beyond that, be careful how you refer to yourself. there are two terms generally used to refer to people who fool aroundd - slut and player. what is the difference between these two? don't you dare say that the slut is a girl and the player is a guy. that is not true. the slut is the person who does it because they're dying for affection, attention, and they're looking for it everywhere and indiscriminately. the player fools around for the pleasure (maybe a bit for the rep. *grin*), but is never talked into or forced into anything s/he doesn't want to do.

decide if you want to see yourself as needy and tragic/pathetic, incapable of having solid viewpoints... or if you want to be the person we all see when we look at you. someone strong and willful who shouldn't take shit from other people. i don't mean that you don't have patience for your friends. i mean that when other people start to put you down, you can not and should not give them any credence.

i love you very much. i respect you. i look up to you. i hope you can start to truly respect yourself as well.

eating disorders unite!

i've always hated the idea of dieting. restricting food just to lose weight so that as soon as it drops you can go back to comsuming as you please while attempting to maintain... blah. traditionally, i have lost when i i got busy, whether it was playing ultimate frisbee for 7 hours a day and eating the same way, or walking all over yerushalayim while eating a tooooooon of bread, or workign all day and only having time for smaller amounts fo food. but making food the focus of the change has always seemed crazy to me, more than any person can handle.

then i went to my doctor and complained to him about how now i'm fat, but my schedule doesn't allow for running around the way i used to. (my theroetical schedule, shutup). anyhow, he told me to check out the zone, and i did, and i like it. i'm eating normal food, which is happy yay for me, cause i like good food, and i'm using food to make me healthy. ie, not declaring it The Enemey. which is good, causse that's not a long term approach. so.. wish me luck, i'll tell you if i'm still happy in a week. : )

house sitting

i want to do this to someone. right now. it makes an interesting case for cheap decorating options...

also, my soup was disappointingly gross.

sweet things

i'm not sure who told me that life should be bitter or that i should spend my days frowning and being sad and lonely, but that person was wrong. life is sweet, life is warm, life is happy. life is what you make it.

i can't do this anymore. it's been two months (on monday, actually), and i need to publicly acknowledge that i have a wonderful boyfriend who gives my life extra sweetness every day. : ) the more i'm with him the more i realize that this is how life is supposed to be, it's not the exception to the rule. thanks, sweetie. don't blush - that's my job.

hm

what would you do if someone were having a memorial dinner for your grandfather? if the cause that the dinner will be funding is one you don't care about? one that granpa wouldn't have cared much for?

what if your grandmother had sent out letters asking people to donate money and come to the dinner? what if it was your uncle's cause?

what if you found out that your uncle went through the donation book from after granpa's funeral, and used those names and addresses to solicit funds for his cause? what if he asked 2 of the 16 grandchildren to match grandma's $1800 donation because they're "the ones who have jobs"? what if you just hung up after a phone call from a woman in the community calling on his behalf to remind you to make reservations for the dinner and to put in an ad before the deadline?

what if the whole thing felt dirty and under-handed to you and you ached to explain to your uncle how truly offensive the rest of the family (read: grandchildren) finds this dinner to be?

the rest of the story

i can't begin to recap the trip right now. but i'll share stuff from my last day and the flight which i find infinitely amusing.

let's start with the poor planning which resulted in my visiting bnei brak in pants. my family handled it well. i noticed people were nicer about it there, actually, then here. or even in NY. funny. points to my strikover chasid great-uncle. : )

oh! i went to the cemetary to visit my grandfather, and saw some ebautiful tributes. the one that got me crying was the man whose tombstone included a tribute to this three children who were killed in the Shoah... he lists them there so they won't be forgotten.

annyhow, back to the day i left. we were flying at minigh modany night/tuesday morning, so we firgured we'd leave close to 8. then we decided it was safest to do early check-in because my sister andi were flying with her three very young children, and we wanted to make sure our seats would be together, unlike the flight to israel where we got seriously farked. we call el-al, they tell us we have to bing everyone who will be flying to early check-in. so @ 10 am we start paccking like crazy women, i have to call She and cancel our 'date', and we sent the kids off with my mom's best friend and her amazing and talented daughter. they are so so good to us, btw. anyhow. we pack, we get the stufffin the cars (nice little caravan of 2 cars and a van - 7 suitcases, a stroller, 5 backpacks, and 2 children in car seats. plus 8 people)

we get to early check-in. they now charge, by the way. 20 shek a person, not bad at all, just be sure you have money with you. the people there were ammazingly nice. i was so confused. i had no red tape problems last week at the american consulate, and now el-al personnel were helpful. it was a total warp of all my fondest beaurocratic memories. anyhow, turns out we didn't have to shlep the kids along... misinformed again. gah.

ok. by the time that's over with, we have 2 sleepy and fussy kids, and one sleepy and crying baby. on to dinner, then bnei brak, then back to the airport. 7 month old baby gets strapped into the baby bjorn, and the 5 and 3 year old get into the stroller, her sitting, him standing in the basket behind the seat. we get a cart, pile up all of our beongings again (car sseat for the baby on the plane, 5 backpacks, and coats).

kids are in their PJs by now, excellent. we get in, and there's an escalator. ok, so around we go to #37, where they do a security check, then take us up in elevator. squishy beyond belief and funny, too. we get upstairs, and security won't let us go in with a cart. so the el-al guy, avi shimon who deserves a huge thank you, gets us a wheelchair, in which i pile all off our stuff. sara is shlepping 3 kids, i'm shlepping a half ton of stuff... off to a great start. especially when we get to the stairs at the gate that take us to the bus that takes us to plane where we have more stairs. ah! a very nice woman named shir-li helped us out by escorting the older kids (we had to check the stroller). sara had the baby and a back pack, i had 2 backpaacks and a car seat... fun and games.

i think i've told enough of the story for you all to glimpse the frustration of traveling with small children. wait til part two where you glimpse the frustration of traveling with small children who are not yours, and therefore refuse to listen to you while you watch them on the plane for 12 and half hours, and then in the airport after for another hour and a half.

or, you know what? on second thought - i don't want to relive that. not at all. i'm back. i am happy. thanks for coming out...

return from the Holy Land

i know it's so cheaty, and i'm sorry, but i wanted to officially announce that i am back. and that i am going to sleep. update wil hopefully come soon. : ) ie, when more awake, and slightly more coherent.