Things that are currently awesome:
My new boots! I got these beauties in black and then also these awesome fuzzy things in brown. Then, of course, because I had new boots I needed new clothes to show them off- so I went and bought skinny jeans and some skirts. I look adorable, but also a little slutty, so its great. Sadly I can't wear my new boots to console because I have a superstition about shoes and always wear the same ones to console- the few times I tested this theory little things broke, I no longer tempt fate (as an aside, if I ever were to get a big failure on console I probably would burn everything I was wearing that day. EVERYTHING). Excitingly, I can wear my new boots to Memphis to keep my feet warm at the Liberty Bowl.
My new Thermos. My old plastic mug for drinking tea on console fell in the parking lot and broke, so I needed a new one. I went to Target where I found an awesome package on pre-Christmas clearance- a big lunchbox and hot/cold Thermosy thing for $15!!! Since I recently found out this Thermos itself is regularly $27.99, I feel pretty awesome about that. And I needed a bigger lunchbox for my 13 hour weekend shifts where I bring 2 meals and a bunch of snacks and eat my way through the whole thing (keeps me awake at least). At the two of them match each other AND my old lunch box too and are cute and purple so I feel stylin.
Season 1 of Mad Men. I rented all 4 discs to help me stay awake sleep shifting the past two nights. Unfortunately, though very good, it is a little too slow and quiet to keep me awake while exhausted and attempting to stay up all night. But it is quite good. I have disc 4 left to finish, but I'm hooked and looking forward to catching up on the rest of the seasons and maybe being a live watcher in the Fall if it comes back for a 5th. You should watch it too. It will, among other things, make you glad you don't live in 1960.
Not living in 1960. Thank god I live in 2010. For one thing- if this show is to be believed- women had it rough in 1960. They couldn't have real jobs, just secretary/typing pool/switchboard operator type crap. They only worked if they couldn't land a husband. They had to be skinny and pretty all the time- no grocery shopping in sweatpants. They drank and smoked while pregnant! And the bras were really pointy looking. In a recent episode I saw a woman discuss how terrible it would be if she served her husband frozen food! Yes, that would be quite a tragedy. Lets keep in mind that around the same time little nerds in skinny ties were sitting in the same building I am, blasting men into space. Which many people, my boyfriend included, would probably prefer to live in that time in order to see. And though it would be cool to see it, I would not have been able to take part. So, thank you, I'll stick to the time I live in. And then there's other stuff: cruise control, modern medicine, the internet, cell phones, laptops, more than 3 television channels, sexual harassment being disallowed... we have it way better. Watch mad men and see.
Things that are currently less than awesome:
It's 4am. Well, its 4am and I am awake working a boring overnight shift. I still have 3 hours til handover, and 4 til I can go to bed. I like my job, much better than housewifery or secretarying, but I also like sleep, and it is in short supply while on console.
Boyfriend is in VA. Actually not the problem, the problem is that I am not in VA. Everyone else is off on their Christmas vacation. I suppose its fair that Jews don't get a christmas vacation... but I do hate missing the fun. And I also miss, you know, my boyfriend.
White FCR. This is what they call the space shuttle mission control room. We sit in one down the hall called FCR 1. FCR stands for Flight Control Room. And yes, there are also a Blue FCR (not used anymore) and a Red FCR (where we sit for sims); no there is not a FCR 2 that I'm aware of. FCR 1 (keep up- thats our usual room) is under construction (because we sit 24/7 they do mainenance over holidays where they inconvenience the least number of people, the skeleton team needed to keep things running... how cool is it that that includes ME?!). So they moved us to White FCR. Its dark, and I have half as many computer screens, and just generally I like my usual set and change is bad and whatever.
Liberty Bowl in 7 days! This is only not awesome because its a week away. In 6 days, this will be on the awesome list.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Saturday, December 4, 2010
New Project
So last year, remember that movie that came out- Julie and Julia? Well, I never saw it. But I did read the book, that the movie was an adaptation of. And the idea sounds fun.
I want to have a cooking project too. This week Dan and I cooked a few times, and each time its a struggle to find a recipe from the millions of websites and cookbooks/magazines that I have at my disposal. Its such an overwhelming quantity of options available, that settling on any one is maddening.
So... I am going to buy a cookbook. And then I'm going to cook my way through it until I've tried everything. Sound great. Only one problem. What cookbook?
Thats why I need your help, dear readers. Here are the criteria I will use in weeding through the again maddening number of choices out there:
1. Not overly complicated. Julie cooked through Julia Child's The Fine Art of French Cooking... if you don't know about french cooking, its horribly complex. I don't really have time, energy, money, or motivation to learn how to sautee goat hooves or disembowel my own whole chicken or whatever other craziness is out there to learn how to do. I also will not be running all over Houston looking for ox bones or veal livers. I need run-of-the-mill methods, with things you can buy at the regular grocery down the street. Also, I don't have alot of kitchen gadgets and I don't want to have to go stock up, so I need simple prep as well as simple ingredients.
2. Healthier food. Aside from complexity, French food has one additional downside: FAT. Butter, cream, oil... I don't disagree that soaking vegetables in one or more of these ingredients makes them taste awesome, but it isnt otherwise so great unless you want to die of a heart attack at 35. So... healthier options please!
3. Not too big, not too small. Ideal recipe size would be 4 servings; enough to feed me and the boyfriend dinner, and then lunch the next day. Though I know you can always double something that is made for two, it is often alot harder to split down something that is made for 16.
4. Boy-friendly. While I love to eat all manner of fancy things, funny things, chocolatey things, fruity things... boys are different. Boys need beef and carbohydrates and... beer? Idk, exactly, but I think I'd know if it was too girly when I saw it.
Let me know if you have any suggestions, so I can get to cooking!
I want to have a cooking project too. This week Dan and I cooked a few times, and each time its a struggle to find a recipe from the millions of websites and cookbooks/magazines that I have at my disposal. Its such an overwhelming quantity of options available, that settling on any one is maddening.
So... I am going to buy a cookbook. And then I'm going to cook my way through it until I've tried everything. Sound great. Only one problem. What cookbook?
Thats why I need your help, dear readers. Here are the criteria I will use in weeding through the again maddening number of choices out there:
1. Not overly complicated. Julie cooked through Julia Child's The Fine Art of French Cooking... if you don't know about french cooking, its horribly complex. I don't really have time, energy, money, or motivation to learn how to sautee goat hooves or disembowel my own whole chicken or whatever other craziness is out there to learn how to do. I also will not be running all over Houston looking for ox bones or veal livers. I need run-of-the-mill methods, with things you can buy at the regular grocery down the street. Also, I don't have alot of kitchen gadgets and I don't want to have to go stock up, so I need simple prep as well as simple ingredients.
2. Healthier food. Aside from complexity, French food has one additional downside: FAT. Butter, cream, oil... I don't disagree that soaking vegetables in one or more of these ingredients makes them taste awesome, but it isnt otherwise so great unless you want to die of a heart attack at 35. So... healthier options please!
3. Not too big, not too small. Ideal recipe size would be 4 servings; enough to feed me and the boyfriend dinner, and then lunch the next day. Though I know you can always double something that is made for two, it is often alot harder to split down something that is made for 16.
4. Boy-friendly. While I love to eat all manner of fancy things, funny things, chocolatey things, fruity things... boys are different. Boys need beef and carbohydrates and... beer? Idk, exactly, but I think I'd know if it was too girly when I saw it.
Let me know if you have any suggestions, so I can get to cooking!
Friday, November 19, 2010
Letter to me...
Tonight, while babysitting the space station, I will follow this example: http://www.thefrisky.com/post/246-letters-to-our-younger-selves/
And write a letter to myself at half my age.
Dear 12 year old space cadet,
Man, being 12 sure is rotten, huh? Mom cooks dinner, mom does the laundry, and thanks to Cheryl you have no idea what it is like to clean a bathroom. Plus you get to go to a black tie party every weekend, and the only thing you have to do to earn it is to show up at temple Saturday morning. A few years from now you will actually voluntarily go to temple, just to go. Yeah, I don't really believe it either.
I know you are too busy freaking out about your own Bat Mitzvah, because it sure looks scary up there, what with the public speaking and all, and we know you can't sing. Well, get this: you don't sound so bad, your speech makes Daddy tear up, and you make alot of money that you will use in 12 years to buy a house. Plus you get to wear the best dress ever, and dance til you drop.
I know you think you are an outcast, that you don't have alot of friends... but the important thing is that you have good ones. Ali, she really is gonna be your best friend forever. And I know that you are wishing for boobs because you think then the boys will finally notice you... well you never get big boobs but you will finally have boys notice. And this is something you should know now and start believing, although it won't make sense for a couple years... He is not the only boy who will ever love you. Nor the one after that, nor the one after that. Just by virtue of the fact that I listed three, that would seem to indicate any of them is not the only one... don't be so hard on yourself, because you are actually awesome.
And you will have your dream job. No, sorry, aren't an astronaut yet. But you will get the job you never knew you were actually made for. And you will kick ass. So don't worry. Just have fun with your best friend, and try to relax a little.
Love and hugs,
24, and still a space cadet.
And write a letter to myself at half my age.
Dear 12 year old space cadet,
Man, being 12 sure is rotten, huh? Mom cooks dinner, mom does the laundry, and thanks to Cheryl you have no idea what it is like to clean a bathroom. Plus you get to go to a black tie party every weekend, and the only thing you have to do to earn it is to show up at temple Saturday morning. A few years from now you will actually voluntarily go to temple, just to go. Yeah, I don't really believe it either.
I know you are too busy freaking out about your own Bat Mitzvah, because it sure looks scary up there, what with the public speaking and all, and we know you can't sing. Well, get this: you don't sound so bad, your speech makes Daddy tear up, and you make alot of money that you will use in 12 years to buy a house. Plus you get to wear the best dress ever, and dance til you drop.
I know you think you are an outcast, that you don't have alot of friends... but the important thing is that you have good ones. Ali, she really is gonna be your best friend forever. And I know that you are wishing for boobs because you think then the boys will finally notice you... well you never get big boobs but you will finally have boys notice. And this is something you should know now and start believing, although it won't make sense for a couple years... He is not the only boy who will ever love you. Nor the one after that, nor the one after that. Just by virtue of the fact that I listed three, that would seem to indicate any of them is not the only one... don't be so hard on yourself, because you are actually awesome.
And you will have your dream job. No, sorry, aren't an astronaut yet. But you will get the job you never knew you were actually made for. And you will kick ass. So don't worry. Just have fun with your best friend, and try to relax a little.
Love and hugs,
24, and still a space cadet.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Last one...
There must be 5. http://www.thefrisky.com/post/246-the-5-non-negotiables/?obref=obinsite
So here it is...
5. Jumps right on the crazy train. Ok I know I'm insane. I know I act like a child, geek out over Disney World, watch ridiculous television, etc. I know it, you will know it by the time you date me for 10 minutes. But if you wanna stick around much longer, you will eventually have to throw caution and dignity to the wind and hop on that crazy train. Dan finally did it, by buying us Vinylmations in Disney world. And then by following my lead when I called them "the babies." And when you finally do hop on the crazy train, I know you're a keeper. I can't be insane all by myself forever, because thats just boring.
So here it is...
5. Jumps right on the crazy train. Ok I know I'm insane. I know I act like a child, geek out over Disney World, watch ridiculous television, etc. I know it, you will know it by the time you date me for 10 minutes. But if you wanna stick around much longer, you will eventually have to throw caution and dignity to the wind and hop on that crazy train. Dan finally did it, by buying us Vinylmations in Disney world. And then by following my lead when I called them "the babies." And when you finally do hop on the crazy train, I know you're a keeper. I can't be insane all by myself forever, because thats just boring.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Non-negotiables
Another week, another blog from the midnight shift. Tonight, to entertain my sleepy self, I was poking around the internet when I happened on this article...
http://www.thefrisky.com/post/246-10-common-non-negotiables/
Which got me thinking about my own non-negotiables...
1. Overt Displays of Affection. I like it when a boy gets a little ridiculous over me... telling me he I'm pretty, squeezing my butt randomly, holding my hand, sending me text messages 'just because.' Things like that. I could never be happy with a quiet, stoic type who just expects me to know he likes me. I wanna hear it. I don't mean gross PDA like making out in the grocery store, I just want to be part of a nauseatingly adorable couple.
2. Wants a couple babies. I could never be with someone who wanted no kids, just as I could never be with someone who wanted 10 kids. I want a nice low number... like 2, maybe 3. It's my duty to stave off Idiocracy as long as possible by procreating a little bit, which brings us to...
3. Brains. So maybe I haven't always been so good at this one, but I think what sealed the deal on this one is when Eduardo said to me "He made you dumber!" Eduardo, who has always thought a bit too much of my intelligence... if he noticed, it must be true. So from now on, smart boys only. Lets add 'Likes to read' in this same category. I don't care what, I don't care if they're romance trash with Fabio on the cover, or super boring biographies... read something, its how you stay smart and sharp once you're done with formal learning.
4. Sex. That's right, Alifaya, I said SEX. I will pause here while you get over the shock. (Mom, cover your eyes when you read this!) I know you can't have the sex life you had when you were 24 forever, that things are cyclic and you can't be in that honeymoon stage forever, but I would like a boy who a) likes to have sex and b) is good at it.
And that's really all I can think of. Plus its time for handover, which means almost time for me to go home.
http://www.thefrisky.com/post/246-10-common-non-negotiables/
Which got me thinking about my own non-negotiables...
1. Overt Displays of Affection. I like it when a boy gets a little ridiculous over me... telling me he I'm pretty, squeezing my butt randomly, holding my hand, sending me text messages 'just because.' Things like that. I could never be happy with a quiet, stoic type who just expects me to know he likes me. I wanna hear it. I don't mean gross PDA like making out in the grocery store, I just want to be part of a nauseatingly adorable couple.
2. Wants a couple babies. I could never be with someone who wanted no kids, just as I could never be with someone who wanted 10 kids. I want a nice low number... like 2, maybe 3. It's my duty to stave off Idiocracy as long as possible by procreating a little bit, which brings us to...
3. Brains. So maybe I haven't always been so good at this one, but I think what sealed the deal on this one is when Eduardo said to me "He made you dumber!" Eduardo, who has always thought a bit too much of my intelligence... if he noticed, it must be true. So from now on, smart boys only. Lets add 'Likes to read' in this same category. I don't care what, I don't care if they're romance trash with Fabio on the cover, or super boring biographies... read something, its how you stay smart and sharp once you're done with formal learning.
4. Sex. That's right, Alifaya, I said SEX. I will pause here while you get over the shock. (Mom, cover your eyes when you read this!) I know you can't have the sex life you had when you were 24 forever, that things are cyclic and you can't be in that honeymoon stage forever, but I would like a boy who a) likes to have sex and b) is good at it.
And that's really all I can think of. Plus its time for handover, which means almost time for me to go home.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Is this high school?
I am so angry that I am gonna blog about it. Yup, I'm an angry blogger now.
(Greetings from Mission Control, btw... I'm here this weekend 7am to 8pm then back on Tuesday for the overnight).
I have recently gotten myself into a bit of trouble by running my mouth. Who's shocked? Because I am such a demure, quiet, lovely girl who never says mean or offensive things, so this is truly a surprise that I might ever get into any trouble for something I said. Right?
Ok, quit with the chirping crickets, I get the picture. I know. I'm blunt. I'm completely uncensored, lacking any kind of filter from brain to mouth. And to top it all off, I'm not very nice. So the unfiltered brain says alot of mean things. And here's the latest story of why I should get a filter (do they sell them on ebay?):
So it begins... years ago, really. I have known this person for over 2 years, but never really been more than a casual aquaintance. Why? Well, because he's mean. He makes meanspirited jokes about religion, appearance, sex... anything really. When I talk to him, I never know when I'm gonna be the butt of another mean joke. But I think he's not trying to be mean, he believes hes funny. I know now you are saying "Why Stephanie, would you like to be the pot or the kettle?" (kettle, thanks!) but seriously... on my most sarcastic day I couldn't be half as mean. Most of what he says while trying to be funny, I find hurtful. And I try to think "well, he doesn't mean any harm," although I can't honestly be sure whether he does mean harm or not. I hung out with him still because: 1. I like being on the softball team and 2. He's fun to hang out with, when he's not being mean. He's a total social butterfly type, and I like that, because I'm shy and without social butterflies in my life, I wouldn't do anything. Ever. Although, likely my house would be alot cleaner if I avoided all social butterflies. And I have never been one to back down from anything just because things made me feel a little uncomfortable... like socializing with strangers. Or mean jokes.
Now, however, he's Dan's roommate (well, he has been for awhile, I'm the new one here). And I love Dan and wouldn't ever want to cause trouble for him or pull any "it's me or that guy" crap, but hanging with him has also meant hanging more with his roommate. Which means more exposure to the mean jokes. It hasn't been all that delightful. But I'd like to be in it for the long haul with Dan, so I'll take whatever his roommate dishes out. But I never promised to do it quietly.
So yesterday, he's lamenting his current dating life while also discussing a date he has lined up this weekend and how hot the waitress is. Yes, its clearly looking bleak. But you know, you want sympathy I'll give you sympathy. You want to have some lighthearted banter with me, fabulous. But I'm still myself, and I'm not gonna go so far as to become a member of your pity party. Nor am I going to help you turn that poor woman's workday into sexual harassment Friday.
So when I refuse to be his "wing woman*" in the aforementioned hitting on the waitress, he gets angry at me. When things escalate, I say he objectifies women and I'm not interested in facilitating. Then he says that "loyalty is the most important thing," insinuating that I am being disloyal. By the end of the day he has dedicated a facebook status to my alleged mistreatment, and begged off the evening plans we had with some other people in order to avoid me.
*Can I discuss this wingwoman thing for a second? Because here's the point of a wing woman: Guy sees girl. Guy wants girl. Girl would probably not talk to random male stranger at bar, due to legitimate L&O:SVU-style fear of rapists. But guy is hanging out with wingwoman (WW) girl. This WW girl seems normal and inoffensive and is wearing a cute shirt/shoes/whatever girls compliment something random just to get the conversation started. And she's talking to that guy, and she's giggling at something he said, so it must be funny. And guy is relating to that WW girl in a non-creeper, not overly sexual, friendly kind of way. So, hey, he must be alright. Look, they're coming this way. Oh, she said she liked my boots so I will tell her I got them on sale and we will laugh about how awesome it is when shoes are on sale! Girls and guy will chat for awhile, then WW will need to use the restroom, of course, because girls pee alot and need to check their hair. Now girl and guy have time together. But hey, wasn't it easy getting to know each other with another girl around to make sure I don't get raped. Yeah, this is going well. Sigh. Its all a scam on some level, to lull a girl into a false sense of security so she'll take her clothes off. And does that ever, in one trillion years, sound like something I would be into? NO. Its not you who I won't be a wingwoman for, its because that just doesn't fit into my personality. If you are my friend and I have a female friend that I think would like you and you like her, then I would introduce you to each other as a mutual friend, but I am not going to be the crocodile hunter with you, stalking prey in the wild. Sorry for the aside, back to the story...
Now we meet the other half of the reason I can't say what I want around him. When he's not mercilessly teasing me for one thing or another, he is getting disproportionately offended by things I say.
So what bothers me:
1. "Loyalty" Who are you to deserve my loyalty? If you were my friend you would understand why it is that I think you are objectifying women. You would understand why it bothers me, why gender equality is important to me, why paying so much attention to appearance upsets me. You would know you were pushing all my buttons, poking at every self esteem issue I had ever had. And if you understood all that, you would deserve my loyalty and I would expect yours. As it is, you know nothing about me, and the fat feminist inside my head... and so I don't expect you to be so careful about protecting me from my issues, but I certainly don't need to put them aside to help you out.
2. You don't get to be right all the time. Its called a difference of opinion. People are allowed to have it. You don't have to be my friend. I don't care if you want to be friends only with people who will either agree with you or keep quiet about it. I don't need to be your best friend, latenight chat buddy, shopping pal, dinner date or anything. I would just like us to coexist peacefully in the same area, for the sake of my boyfriend who, G-d help him, likes us both. Which means I need you to either not ask my opinion or not get mad at me when I express it. I don't care which.
3. Grow up! Is this high school? You're going to lie to my face and talk shit about me behind my back. And post it on facebook?! When did my adult life start taking place in the 9th grade?
4. Poor Dan. I just don't want to ruin your life. I'm just trying to be me, not to start making a mess. He's your roommate and I'm prepared to endure plenty more of his crap, on your account... but don't expect me to censor myself when asked a direct question. If I'm gonna say anything, its gonna be exactly what comes out of my head, with no positive or otherwise spin applied. I never had this thing called "tact." You may have noticed?
Ugh I don't give a damn about his opinion of me, I just want things not to be awkward when I go to Dan's house tonight. Mutual agreement to coexist peacefully. Thats all. And instead I have to worry that this is gonna cause problems for me and my wonderful, sweet, amazing boyfriend.
So thats the essense of the story. I love all you friend type people who read my stuff and tell me when I'm acting ridiculous. So please, do more of that. Meanwhile I will try to learn how to "not say anything at all" when I have nothing nice to say. Or how to lie and say nice things. Ok, probably not that last one.
(Greetings from Mission Control, btw... I'm here this weekend 7am to 8pm then back on Tuesday for the overnight).
I have recently gotten myself into a bit of trouble by running my mouth. Who's shocked? Because I am such a demure, quiet, lovely girl who never says mean or offensive things, so this is truly a surprise that I might ever get into any trouble for something I said. Right?
Ok, quit with the chirping crickets, I get the picture. I know. I'm blunt. I'm completely uncensored, lacking any kind of filter from brain to mouth. And to top it all off, I'm not very nice. So the unfiltered brain says alot of mean things. And here's the latest story of why I should get a filter (do they sell them on ebay?):
So it begins... years ago, really. I have known this person for over 2 years, but never really been more than a casual aquaintance. Why? Well, because he's mean. He makes meanspirited jokes about religion, appearance, sex... anything really. When I talk to him, I never know when I'm gonna be the butt of another mean joke. But I think he's not trying to be mean, he believes hes funny. I know now you are saying "Why Stephanie, would you like to be the pot or the kettle?" (kettle, thanks!) but seriously... on my most sarcastic day I couldn't be half as mean. Most of what he says while trying to be funny, I find hurtful. And I try to think "well, he doesn't mean any harm," although I can't honestly be sure whether he does mean harm or not. I hung out with him still because: 1. I like being on the softball team and 2. He's fun to hang out with, when he's not being mean. He's a total social butterfly type, and I like that, because I'm shy and without social butterflies in my life, I wouldn't do anything. Ever. Although, likely my house would be alot cleaner if I avoided all social butterflies. And I have never been one to back down from anything just because things made me feel a little uncomfortable... like socializing with strangers. Or mean jokes.
Now, however, he's Dan's roommate (well, he has been for awhile, I'm the new one here). And I love Dan and wouldn't ever want to cause trouble for him or pull any "it's me or that guy" crap, but hanging with him has also meant hanging more with his roommate. Which means more exposure to the mean jokes. It hasn't been all that delightful. But I'd like to be in it for the long haul with Dan, so I'll take whatever his roommate dishes out. But I never promised to do it quietly.
So yesterday, he's lamenting his current dating life while also discussing a date he has lined up this weekend and how hot the waitress is. Yes, its clearly looking bleak. But you know, you want sympathy I'll give you sympathy. You want to have some lighthearted banter with me, fabulous. But I'm still myself, and I'm not gonna go so far as to become a member of your pity party. Nor am I going to help you turn that poor woman's workday into sexual harassment Friday.
So when I refuse to be his "wing woman*" in the aforementioned hitting on the waitress, he gets angry at me. When things escalate, I say he objectifies women and I'm not interested in facilitating. Then he says that "loyalty is the most important thing," insinuating that I am being disloyal. By the end of the day he has dedicated a facebook status to my alleged mistreatment, and begged off the evening plans we had with some other people in order to avoid me.
*Can I discuss this wingwoman thing for a second? Because here's the point of a wing woman: Guy sees girl. Guy wants girl. Girl would probably not talk to random male stranger at bar, due to legitimate L&O:SVU-style fear of rapists. But guy is hanging out with wingwoman (WW) girl. This WW girl seems normal and inoffensive and is wearing a cute shirt/shoes/whatever girls compliment something random just to get the conversation started. And she's talking to that guy, and she's giggling at something he said, so it must be funny. And guy is relating to that WW girl in a non-creeper, not overly sexual, friendly kind of way. So, hey, he must be alright. Look, they're coming this way. Oh, she said she liked my boots so I will tell her I got them on sale and we will laugh about how awesome it is when shoes are on sale! Girls and guy will chat for awhile, then WW will need to use the restroom, of course, because girls pee alot and need to check their hair. Now girl and guy have time together. But hey, wasn't it easy getting to know each other with another girl around to make sure I don't get raped. Yeah, this is going well. Sigh. Its all a scam on some level, to lull a girl into a false sense of security so she'll take her clothes off. And does that ever, in one trillion years, sound like something I would be into? NO. Its not you who I won't be a wingwoman for, its because that just doesn't fit into my personality. If you are my friend and I have a female friend that I think would like you and you like her, then I would introduce you to each other as a mutual friend, but I am not going to be the crocodile hunter with you, stalking prey in the wild. Sorry for the aside, back to the story...
Now we meet the other half of the reason I can't say what I want around him. When he's not mercilessly teasing me for one thing or another, he is getting disproportionately offended by things I say.
So what bothers me:
1. "Loyalty" Who are you to deserve my loyalty? If you were my friend you would understand why it is that I think you are objectifying women. You would understand why it bothers me, why gender equality is important to me, why paying so much attention to appearance upsets me. You would know you were pushing all my buttons, poking at every self esteem issue I had ever had. And if you understood all that, you would deserve my loyalty and I would expect yours. As it is, you know nothing about me, and the fat feminist inside my head... and so I don't expect you to be so careful about protecting me from my issues, but I certainly don't need to put them aside to help you out.
2. You don't get to be right all the time. Its called a difference of opinion. People are allowed to have it. You don't have to be my friend. I don't care if you want to be friends only with people who will either agree with you or keep quiet about it. I don't need to be your best friend, latenight chat buddy, shopping pal, dinner date or anything. I would just like us to coexist peacefully in the same area, for the sake of my boyfriend who, G-d help him, likes us both. Which means I need you to either not ask my opinion or not get mad at me when I express it. I don't care which.
3. Grow up! Is this high school? You're going to lie to my face and talk shit about me behind my back. And post it on facebook?! When did my adult life start taking place in the 9th grade?
4. Poor Dan. I just don't want to ruin your life. I'm just trying to be me, not to start making a mess. He's your roommate and I'm prepared to endure plenty more of his crap, on your account... but don't expect me to censor myself when asked a direct question. If I'm gonna say anything, its gonna be exactly what comes out of my head, with no positive or otherwise spin applied. I never had this thing called "tact." You may have noticed?
Ugh I don't give a damn about his opinion of me, I just want things not to be awkward when I go to Dan's house tonight. Mutual agreement to coexist peacefully. Thats all. And instead I have to worry that this is gonna cause problems for me and my wonderful, sweet, amazing boyfriend.
So thats the essense of the story. I love all you friend type people who read my stuff and tell me when I'm acting ridiculous. So please, do more of that. Meanwhile I will try to learn how to "not say anything at all" when I have nothing nice to say. Or how to lie and say nice things. Ok, probably not that last one.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
September Adventures
So it would appear that I skipped the entire month of September. Oops. Also because I have been rambling nonstop about crazy jewish things and trying to make sense of my life, I thought perhaps I would take a day off from that (rest assured, I have another monster of a post about religion brewing, but not for tonight) and just give you the rundown of my crazy adventures.
Where to begin?... How about September 1st?
Kidding, I will not go day by day. But there were a few awesome, great, big things that happened in September.
1. I am now 24. Which my jerk boyfriend likes to remind me is "mid twenties" rather than "early twenties" so I officially became old. Had a nice little outing with coworkers, then went to bed early drunk off margaritas. And my (not really a jerk, except when hes reminding me I'm old) amazing boyfriend outdid all birthdays in memory with a bunch of really thoughtful presents and by being wonderful and awesome.
2. Debbie and Mike got married!!! Yay and congrats! Flew to Philly, rented a car like a grown up, visited cousin Jessica at UPenn, got a grand tour of the campus and some delicious falafel, then drove out to New Jersey for the main event. Beautiful weather, wonderful friends... I'm so sad its over and I feel like I may never see these people again. Sniffle. We always knew the wedding was coming and we would get together for that... but now what? Megelah you need to come visit ASAP or elses! You too Ms. Viscione! What if I told you my guest room had a king size bed? I could throw in room service! Free wireless internet!
3. High holidays. (Ok so maybe there is a brief moment of religious babbling in this post after all.) This was the first year I think that I spent both holidays at Chabad. Rosh Hashana was a nice kind of break from the world- dinner at the rabbi's the first night, all day services, dinner at another family's house the second night, more services, and lunch with yet another family. I am lucky that there are so many families that take in stray people, and fed me. Then yom kippur... such a hard day but also kinda nice. So different to go to Chabad where everyone is taking a special kind of pleasure in fasting, compared to conservative temples where everyone treats it as this torture you have to go through. Like you have no choice but to starve, but at least you are in miserable company. But thats not the point, you aren't torturing yourself, you are focusing on the needs of your soul over the needs of your body. And after, my friend's mother in law took in a few stray people... and fed me homemade bagels. Awesome!
4. So last year I gave up pork... and that has been going really well. But I don't feel so ready to give up either separation of milk and meat (mmm tacos) or shellfish (mmm shrimp). So what should I do as a New Years resolution instead? I have decided to go with candle-lighting. I won't lie, its not so easy as I had planned. First because in the weeks after Yom Kippur there were about 700 holidays. Well, ok, so Sukkot, Shemini Azeret (still not sure I even know what this holiday is for), Simchat Torah, plus Shabbats. And because I'm never home on Friday nights to light. So I have a little portable candle kit that I got once at a Chabad event, and I bought a bunch more tea lights so I can restock. Last Shabbat I lit on the cruise... then Nicole made me blow it out when we went to dinner so I didn't burn the ship down. She's right, of course, you shouldnt leave candles unattended, but then... you're not supposed to blow them out. Oh well, baby steps. So thats the plan this year... no pork, more candles.
5. Sukkot... one of my favorite holidays, since joining Chabad. We never made a big deal about it when I was a kid, and at school it always seemed kinda lame... but at Chabad they seem to take a special pleasure in it. The first night is a nice long night of eating and drinking and singing and the Sukkah is so big because so many people come and decorated so nicely. So I have, as a side resolution, decided to make a point of eating in the Sukkah at least once every year. Took Dan... its not a matter of trying to convert him (if I wanted to do that, I would go find a nice conservative temple in Houston where people are practically normal except for occasionally exclaiming in yiddish rather than throw him in the Hassidic deep end) I just like to spend time with him, and I dont want there to be this big secret place I go all the time to do big secret Jew things. And I'm really grateful and happy that he's willing to give it a shot for me because I know its scary to go there. And then as we were leaving I went and told the Rabbi's wife that he wasnt Jewish. They all kinda assumed he was because a) I was dating him and b) he was there and c) he looks more jewish than I do (says the blue eyed, pale girl). But then when I told the Rabbi's wife he was my boyfriend who worked for NASA she said "Get out! He's Jewish and he works for NASA?!" Well I couldn't lie. Then I got a little mini lecture about soulmates. I think a bigger lecture is probably coming, but I can take it. I know it bothers him that it bothers them and that I have to listen to it... but I think he should understand a little more about guilt, being catholic and all. All my life I've been hearing a lecture about something from someone. What matters is that I love him and hes wonderful and sweet and smart and adorable and takes good care of me and, to a lesser extent, that my parents like him. Also I hope that when you guys meet him, you will like him. Everyone else, doesn't get a say.
6. Operator Cruise! Over 2 years ago when we all started our group flight controller training, called boot camp, we discussed taking a cruise together when we all got certified. Back then we weren't even really friends yet, just a bunch of new young people who left home for horrible texas. Then we became good friends, hung out all the time, planned parties and trips and weekends together. Then we all got certified around March and basically stopped seeing each other. Someone is always working, someone is always sleep shifting, and so nobody was available. We had to plan 4 months in advance and request time off of work in order to even have this one week... and still I think most of us got crap for it.
But it was awesome!!! I wont get into particulars, and pictures will be up on facebook shortly for your perusal, but here are the highlights: Sunbathing! Mayan Ruins, complete with swimmin' hole! Cozumel Zip line + snorkel (no death trap scootering this time). Party in the penthouse! We won the Quest, be jealous!
7. Ok so technically this didn't happen until October but I had to add... Alabama/Florida game. Made my day. Ok, my week.
Now I have a cold while working the overnight shift- my nose is stuffy, my throat hurts, the room is spinning a bit, and I really want to go crawl into bed. However, being grateful for small wonders, I am in mission control! I just need the system to be nice to me tonight.
Whats on the agenda for this month? Cooler weather! This and one more week of overnights. Throw in a weekend shift (13 shifts in all, punishment for taking vacation I guess). And at the end of the month a trip to Orlando with Dan... UCF football, fun with the fam, and maybe, hopefully, fingers/toes/eyes crossed, a shuttle launch.
Where to begin?... How about September 1st?
Kidding, I will not go day by day. But there were a few awesome, great, big things that happened in September.
1. I am now 24. Which my jerk boyfriend likes to remind me is "mid twenties" rather than "early twenties" so I officially became old. Had a nice little outing with coworkers, then went to bed early drunk off margaritas. And my (not really a jerk, except when hes reminding me I'm old) amazing boyfriend outdid all birthdays in memory with a bunch of really thoughtful presents and by being wonderful and awesome.
2. Debbie and Mike got married!!! Yay and congrats! Flew to Philly, rented a car like a grown up, visited cousin Jessica at UPenn, got a grand tour of the campus and some delicious falafel, then drove out to New Jersey for the main event. Beautiful weather, wonderful friends... I'm so sad its over and I feel like I may never see these people again. Sniffle. We always knew the wedding was coming and we would get together for that... but now what? Megelah you need to come visit ASAP or elses! You too Ms. Viscione! What if I told you my guest room had a king size bed? I could throw in room service! Free wireless internet!
3. High holidays. (Ok so maybe there is a brief moment of religious babbling in this post after all.) This was the first year I think that I spent both holidays at Chabad. Rosh Hashana was a nice kind of break from the world- dinner at the rabbi's the first night, all day services, dinner at another family's house the second night, more services, and lunch with yet another family. I am lucky that there are so many families that take in stray people, and fed me. Then yom kippur... such a hard day but also kinda nice. So different to go to Chabad where everyone is taking a special kind of pleasure in fasting, compared to conservative temples where everyone treats it as this torture you have to go through. Like you have no choice but to starve, but at least you are in miserable company. But thats not the point, you aren't torturing yourself, you are focusing on the needs of your soul over the needs of your body. And after, my friend's mother in law took in a few stray people... and fed me homemade bagels. Awesome!
4. So last year I gave up pork... and that has been going really well. But I don't feel so ready to give up either separation of milk and meat (mmm tacos) or shellfish (mmm shrimp). So what should I do as a New Years resolution instead? I have decided to go with candle-lighting. I won't lie, its not so easy as I had planned. First because in the weeks after Yom Kippur there were about 700 holidays. Well, ok, so Sukkot, Shemini Azeret (still not sure I even know what this holiday is for), Simchat Torah, plus Shabbats. And because I'm never home on Friday nights to light. So I have a little portable candle kit that I got once at a Chabad event, and I bought a bunch more tea lights so I can restock. Last Shabbat I lit on the cruise... then Nicole made me blow it out when we went to dinner so I didn't burn the ship down. She's right, of course, you shouldnt leave candles unattended, but then... you're not supposed to blow them out. Oh well, baby steps. So thats the plan this year... no pork, more candles.
5. Sukkot... one of my favorite holidays, since joining Chabad. We never made a big deal about it when I was a kid, and at school it always seemed kinda lame... but at Chabad they seem to take a special pleasure in it. The first night is a nice long night of eating and drinking and singing and the Sukkah is so big because so many people come and decorated so nicely. So I have, as a side resolution, decided to make a point of eating in the Sukkah at least once every year. Took Dan... its not a matter of trying to convert him (if I wanted to do that, I would go find a nice conservative temple in Houston where people are practically normal except for occasionally exclaiming in yiddish rather than throw him in the Hassidic deep end) I just like to spend time with him, and I dont want there to be this big secret place I go all the time to do big secret Jew things. And I'm really grateful and happy that he's willing to give it a shot for me because I know its scary to go there. And then as we were leaving I went and told the Rabbi's wife that he wasnt Jewish. They all kinda assumed he was because a) I was dating him and b) he was there and c) he looks more jewish than I do (says the blue eyed, pale girl). But then when I told the Rabbi's wife he was my boyfriend who worked for NASA she said "Get out! He's Jewish and he works for NASA?!" Well I couldn't lie. Then I got a little mini lecture about soulmates. I think a bigger lecture is probably coming, but I can take it. I know it bothers him that it bothers them and that I have to listen to it... but I think he should understand a little more about guilt, being catholic and all. All my life I've been hearing a lecture about something from someone. What matters is that I love him and hes wonderful and sweet and smart and adorable and takes good care of me and, to a lesser extent, that my parents like him. Also I hope that when you guys meet him, you will like him. Everyone else, doesn't get a say.
6. Operator Cruise! Over 2 years ago when we all started our group flight controller training, called boot camp, we discussed taking a cruise together when we all got certified. Back then we weren't even really friends yet, just a bunch of new young people who left home for horrible texas. Then we became good friends, hung out all the time, planned parties and trips and weekends together. Then we all got certified around March and basically stopped seeing each other. Someone is always working, someone is always sleep shifting, and so nobody was available. We had to plan 4 months in advance and request time off of work in order to even have this one week... and still I think most of us got crap for it.
But it was awesome!!! I wont get into particulars, and pictures will be up on facebook shortly for your perusal, but here are the highlights: Sunbathing! Mayan Ruins, complete with swimmin' hole! Cozumel Zip line + snorkel (no death trap scootering this time). Party in the penthouse! We won the Quest, be jealous!
7. Ok so technically this didn't happen until October but I had to add... Alabama/Florida game. Made my day. Ok, my week.
Now I have a cold while working the overnight shift- my nose is stuffy, my throat hurts, the room is spinning a bit, and I really want to go crawl into bed. However, being grateful for small wonders, I am in mission control! I just need the system to be nice to me tonight.
Whats on the agenda for this month? Cooler weather! This and one more week of overnights. Throw in a weekend shift (13 shifts in all, punishment for taking vacation I guess). And at the end of the month a trip to Orlando with Dan... UCF football, fun with the fam, and maybe, hopefully, fingers/toes/eyes crossed, a shuttle launch.
Monday, August 23, 2010
To be a Jewish Woman. And a rundown of my life.
Excitement! Everything has been going awesome. I am quite lucky! What has been happening? Well, I will tell you.
1. Went to one of boyfriend's friend's wedding in upstate NY. Its so pretty, and the weather was awesome, and it was in a barn. And his friends are awesome and adorable and really nice and I had a great time. Also, travelling not alone is pretty nice too. Actually getting to the airport and having someone to talk to while waiting for the plane or on the plane... and nice when the person sitting next to you and kinda hogging your space is someone you like and not a weird, stinky stranger. I could go on alot longer about that whole thing but I wont, because this is already going to be a contender for longest post ever. So lets just say... amazing, wonderful, very happy.
2. Josh goes to UCF! Helped him move into Tower 4 on Friday. Very excited for my little bro to be at my school. Excited that I can still go back for football games and tailgate with the fam, excited that I will get another duck from yet another spirit splash to add to my collection. Feels like I did something kinda right, starting the Golden Knight legacy.
3. Debbie is getting married! I know, what took her so long, right? Had a wonderful weekend in Orlando celebrating her bachelorette party- Clubbing, laying by the pool, eating an obscene amount, more clubbing, and ending it off with a lovely brunch and a trip back to UCF- the place that started it all. Plus, thanks to Meg's brilliant enstatement of a 1 to 1 rule (1 alcohol, 1 water), nobody puked-- success!!! I can't wait to go see everyone again in 2 weeks for the big event! I'm also excited about the whole grown-up experience- flying to Philly, renting a car, staying in a hotel... things I dont usually do.
4. House... is still a work in progress. Today I got some blinds installed... they are pretty! But my cable is out... so comcast is coming to try to fix that tomorrow. We will see if they can. Stupid comcast. Also need mass amounts more time for unpacking, organizing, furniture shopping, grout sealing, and decorating. And cleaning. And mowing the lawn. Alot of work and I'm too busy to do it all. I have my priorities, and the mop is low on that list.
Ok so thats the rundown of whats going on in my life. Now we get down to the existential musings, as usual. And its gonna be extremely long this time.
I have been reading a book. Its called "The Modern Jewish Girls Guide to Guilt." Wait, lets back up. I have developed a new habit... the bookstore near my new house has a fairly decent sized Jewish books section. So my habit is to go there every now and then and buy a book... or a few. I am trying to get a little perspective on my concerns- about going to temple (or not), about keeping kosher (or not..or to what degree), about being on the "wrong" side of the mechitzah (aka the women's side), about driving on shabbat, about what I understand about the laws and what I dont.
The non-Jews (and less religious actual Jews) in my life enjoy quizzing me about this. Like "whats the point of separating milk and meat?" or "why do you become an adult at 13?" And then when I explain my rudimentary, beginner-who-took-some-classes-15-years-ago-and-didnt-really-care-then version of the rules, nobody seems very happy. Because, like all Jews, I know of these rules, and decide which ones to follow- but it isnt because we know the ins and outs of the rules and decide which ones we personally want to believe... its because we just pick the convenient ones. Sometimes the ones we do pick make even less sense than the ones we don't pick. Like how fasting for 26 hours, "not even water?" sounds insane to the rest of the world, and is pretty much the only thing most of us grab bag Jews do. Whereas not eating shellfish, sounds like an acceptable rule to everyone, but nobody really does that because, lets face it, shrimps are tasty. And then we argue about whether pigs are unclean because they roll around in poop or whether it makes sense to walk to temple rather than drive because, after all, isnt walking alot more "work" in this Texas/Florida heat or wherever you are with its 6 feet of snow?
Anyways, it would be nice to learn more, so I do. I have been, for 2 years now, chasing knowledge, understanding... justification for why the rules are the rules. For my inquisitive non-Jews, and my inquisitive secular Jews... and for myself.
So this book... well I would be lying if I said I wasn't hoping for answers. Answers to moral issues like: can you be a feminist and a Chabadnik at the same time? Can you marry a non jew without ruining everything? Why, really, is it my job to rebuild the Jews post holocaust anyways, when my rabbi and his wife (preggers with child number 11) are doing a far better job than I ever could? And they keep kosher.
Unsurprisingly, the book contained no real answers. But... it did offer something I wasn't really expecting... kinship. As it turns out, I am not the only little Jewish girl in the world struggling with that same crap. The book is a collection of essays by Jewish, female authors who discuss all manner of guilt trips that one poor Jewish girl encounters, struggles with, and attempts to survive.
To start it off, the Editor's preface was me. Completely, totally, perfectly describing my issues. We are trapped in the middle of everyone's expectations for us. The feminist movement of the 70s, which says to hell with men, women are not baby machines, we will not be held back by the trappings of biology. The modern feminist movement which says, to hell with that, we can be mothers and career women and apparently can also find time to sleep (this last part is most certainly untrue... something's gotta give). Or maybe it says, I'll sleep when I'm dead, I must be wonderwoman now.
And then there's the expectations of the Orthodox movement, which will never join us in the post-feminist 21st century world. There, women are always mothers, baby machines, the heart and soul of a home, the nurturers, the homemakers... and as such are tethered to the home and expected to toil in the kitchen (for keeping kosher is not easy) and fuss over the babies (for raising 11 is no small job). For a long time I thought that this was sexist, anti-feminist, but this is not true. It simply exists in a world that has no need for the feminist movement... in this world, women simply are the homemakers, they are the keepers of Judaism, the ones that pass the laws of keeping kosher, of modesty and family purity, and of observing the holidays, and of everything else that religion entails on to the next generation. Women and men are both bound by their biology... a man must go out of the home, he must pray in a group of 10, he must work to feed the wife and umpteen children, just as the woman must stay home, must put the needs of the umpteen children over her own spiritual desire to pray and in so doing, serve her spirit and the greater good. In all honesty, it sounds like a perfectly delightful, satisfying life. But it is not the life that was laid out for me. I was told I was an equal and as such should be treated equally. I was told I had a right and a responsibility to do as much, educationally and professionally, as I could, and as such was programmed to believe that to do less would be demeaning. In essence I was never given a chance to live in a world where men and women are fundamentally, biologically, mentally, and spiritually meant for different things. Much like a Rabbi's daughter was brought up to believe that to be the same as a man would be to deny her true self, I was brought up to believe that to be different from a man would be to subvert my own.
All of this feeds into a more universal- from reform "High-Holiday Jews" (the same as your Christmas/Easter christians) to the most religious- Jewish expectation for women. To perpetuate the race... if it even is a race. It certainly is not only a religion, due to the preservation of the bloodlines for thousands of years such that a jew today can trace their DNA back to a specific tribe that wandered the desert, and such that the mitochondrial DNA can identify one a jew, should they have never heard a word of hebrew. Mitochondial DNA... that is the essence of Judaism's expectations for its women. Mitochondrial DNA is passed from mother to child, mother to child, down through the centuries such that, should one's maternal great great grandmother had been jewish, that would still be in your mitochondria today. And Judaism, like mitochondrial DNA, is passed by the mother. All you need to be born a Jew is a jewish mother. Even if your father was a turkey baster. Or Michael Jackson. Or Hitler.
Sure you can convert, and this has, I imagine, screwed up some of that mitochondrial DNA, but there it is... my mother gave me 2 things: her mitochondrial DNA, and her Judaism. But those 2 things did not make me a Jew... because religion is something you have to practice. And in order to practice, you need to be taught... you need your mother, pillar of the home, center of the family, spiritual anchor, to teach you how to braid a Challah and light a Shabbat candle and wear ankle length skirts, and visit a mikvah. My mother, as you probably have already figured out, did not really train me to do any of those things. She taught me to be a man's equal (and then my father told me I shouldnt limit myself to just being his equal), she taught me to like physics, and love space and to kinda be a jew on the side, where it fit in. I suppose by falling in with Chabad I am trying to take back a choice that was made a long time ago, by not even my parents or my grandparents, but by my great (or great great) Polish immigrant grandparents who just wanted to fit in. Well, congrats, great great grandpa, we certainly do fit in! But at what cost?
And then, because no Jewish story would be complete without this spectre hanging over us, there is also the Holocaust expectations. The make Jewish babies until you pay back every one they killed. Then make one more so that you increase our number rather than make it a zero sum equation. This is the giant, epic guilt that faces every Jew, every day. The rationale that I owe it to those who weren't allowed to be Jewish or who were slaughtered simply because they were Jewish... those who questioned rabbis, in concentration camps, whether they should be allowed to eat their rationed slice of bread on passover. Yeah, you think about that next time you only make it through 3 days before hitting the chicken nuggets. Starving people, who were fed not quite enough to survive, who became walking skeletons, and who were freezing to death besides, would have not eaten bread because it was forbidden on passover. Someone owes these people a little respect. Someone owes them to keep doing what they died attempting to do. And, of course, that someone is every single Jewish woman in the entire world, present and future.
So thats the Jewish woman guilt. And the expectations of multiple societies that we struggle with every day. Be jewish-ish? Be extra Jewish? Make Jewish babies? Make Jewish babies until you undo 6 million deaths? Be secular? Fit in? Have a career? Be equal? Be different but of equal standing? Be anything that you want? Be what you were born to be (and by who's definition)? It is impossible to be them all. My job will not permit perfect Judaism. Ask me why at 11:45pm on Friday when I am driving home from work. Ask me why next month when I get to work at 7am on Saturday. And perfect Judaism will not permit my job. Ask the woman with 11 children, who feeds the stray Jews of the community at a 30 person Shabbat dinner every week, when she would have time to control the International Space Station.
It makes every day a struggle... who wants you to be what? And who do you listen to? Well you would say the simple answer is to be who you want. I would laugh at you, if it weren't so serious. Because what you want to be is not just a matter of you, waking up and deciding this is your life... it is an attitude you were raised with, that was handed down from your mother, just like your mitochondrial DNA. I want to be an astronaut. I want to love my boyfriend, who is sweet and adorable and nerdy and so wonderful and who makes me ridiculously, sometimes unbearably happy. But alternate reality me probably would not want those things... alternate reality me, the Chabad rabbi's daughter, would want to grow up to be a rabbi's wife, just like my alternate reality mother. She would never have shaken hands with, let alone had sex with, a nice non jewish boy, no matter how wonderful he was. But all that is really beside the point, because she would never have met him because she wouldn't be an engineer. She wouldn't work for NASA or control the International Space Station or even dream of working on Friday nights after sundown. She, at 23, would probably be betrothed, if not married to some nice Yeshiva student in Brooklyn. Her life would not be emptier- in fact, in many ways it would be fuller than mine- and she would not really know any better. Like actual reality me, she might meet someone who was leading her alternate reality life and wonder what that might have been like, and she might wonder if it was better, or at least more free, if she might have been happier. But in the end she, like me, would conclude that she was leading the life she wanted because it was the life she was raised to want, and that she will keep on playing that part.
1. There's too much pressure to be everything to everybody.
2. Nobody actually wants anything in a vacuum, there are always factors.
3. I have made a decision... I WILL do what I want. Which is this: date Dan. Maybe, hopefully, wishfully marry Dan. I will raise good, intelligent children to be just as messed up as I am but maybe not quite as Jewish. I will go to Chabad and not eat pork for as long as it damn well suits me to do so. I will believe that sitting on the womens side does not make me less of an equal to men in my secular life, nor does it actually devalue me in my spiritual life. And I will not, no matter who I marry, actually undo any of the multitude of wrongs perpetrated during the holocaust. I cannot singlehandedly, nor as a group of put-upon Jewish women, make up for the evil in the world and I refuse to believe that it is my duty to even try.
1. Went to one of boyfriend's friend's wedding in upstate NY. Its so pretty, and the weather was awesome, and it was in a barn. And his friends are awesome and adorable and really nice and I had a great time. Also, travelling not alone is pretty nice too. Actually getting to the airport and having someone to talk to while waiting for the plane or on the plane... and nice when the person sitting next to you and kinda hogging your space is someone you like and not a weird, stinky stranger. I could go on alot longer about that whole thing but I wont, because this is already going to be a contender for longest post ever. So lets just say... amazing, wonderful, very happy.
2. Josh goes to UCF! Helped him move into Tower 4 on Friday. Very excited for my little bro to be at my school. Excited that I can still go back for football games and tailgate with the fam, excited that I will get another duck from yet another spirit splash to add to my collection. Feels like I did something kinda right, starting the Golden Knight legacy.
3. Debbie is getting married! I know, what took her so long, right? Had a wonderful weekend in Orlando celebrating her bachelorette party- Clubbing, laying by the pool, eating an obscene amount, more clubbing, and ending it off with a lovely brunch and a trip back to UCF- the place that started it all. Plus, thanks to Meg's brilliant enstatement of a 1 to 1 rule (1 alcohol, 1 water), nobody puked-- success!!! I can't wait to go see everyone again in 2 weeks for the big event! I'm also excited about the whole grown-up experience- flying to Philly, renting a car, staying in a hotel... things I dont usually do.
4. House... is still a work in progress. Today I got some blinds installed... they are pretty! But my cable is out... so comcast is coming to try to fix that tomorrow. We will see if they can. Stupid comcast. Also need mass amounts more time for unpacking, organizing, furniture shopping, grout sealing, and decorating. And cleaning. And mowing the lawn. Alot of work and I'm too busy to do it all. I have my priorities, and the mop is low on that list.
Ok so thats the rundown of whats going on in my life. Now we get down to the existential musings, as usual. And its gonna be extremely long this time.
I have been reading a book. Its called "The Modern Jewish Girls Guide to Guilt." Wait, lets back up. I have developed a new habit... the bookstore near my new house has a fairly decent sized Jewish books section. So my habit is to go there every now and then and buy a book... or a few. I am trying to get a little perspective on my concerns- about going to temple (or not), about keeping kosher (or not..or to what degree), about being on the "wrong" side of the mechitzah (aka the women's side), about driving on shabbat, about what I understand about the laws and what I dont.
The non-Jews (and less religious actual Jews) in my life enjoy quizzing me about this. Like "whats the point of separating milk and meat?" or "why do you become an adult at 13?" And then when I explain my rudimentary, beginner-who-took-some-classes-15-years-ago-and-didnt-really-care-then version of the rules, nobody seems very happy. Because, like all Jews, I know of these rules, and decide which ones to follow- but it isnt because we know the ins and outs of the rules and decide which ones we personally want to believe... its because we just pick the convenient ones. Sometimes the ones we do pick make even less sense than the ones we don't pick. Like how fasting for 26 hours, "not even water?" sounds insane to the rest of the world, and is pretty much the only thing most of us grab bag Jews do. Whereas not eating shellfish, sounds like an acceptable rule to everyone, but nobody really does that because, lets face it, shrimps are tasty. And then we argue about whether pigs are unclean because they roll around in poop or whether it makes sense to walk to temple rather than drive because, after all, isnt walking alot more "work" in this Texas/Florida heat or wherever you are with its 6 feet of snow?
Anyways, it would be nice to learn more, so I do. I have been, for 2 years now, chasing knowledge, understanding... justification for why the rules are the rules. For my inquisitive non-Jews, and my inquisitive secular Jews... and for myself.
So this book... well I would be lying if I said I wasn't hoping for answers. Answers to moral issues like: can you be a feminist and a Chabadnik at the same time? Can you marry a non jew without ruining everything? Why, really, is it my job to rebuild the Jews post holocaust anyways, when my rabbi and his wife (preggers with child number 11) are doing a far better job than I ever could? And they keep kosher.
Unsurprisingly, the book contained no real answers. But... it did offer something I wasn't really expecting... kinship. As it turns out, I am not the only little Jewish girl in the world struggling with that same crap. The book is a collection of essays by Jewish, female authors who discuss all manner of guilt trips that one poor Jewish girl encounters, struggles with, and attempts to survive.
To start it off, the Editor's preface was me. Completely, totally, perfectly describing my issues. We are trapped in the middle of everyone's expectations for us. The feminist movement of the 70s, which says to hell with men, women are not baby machines, we will not be held back by the trappings of biology. The modern feminist movement which says, to hell with that, we can be mothers and career women and apparently can also find time to sleep (this last part is most certainly untrue... something's gotta give). Or maybe it says, I'll sleep when I'm dead, I must be wonderwoman now.
And then there's the expectations of the Orthodox movement, which will never join us in the post-feminist 21st century world. There, women are always mothers, baby machines, the heart and soul of a home, the nurturers, the homemakers... and as such are tethered to the home and expected to toil in the kitchen (for keeping kosher is not easy) and fuss over the babies (for raising 11 is no small job). For a long time I thought that this was sexist, anti-feminist, but this is not true. It simply exists in a world that has no need for the feminist movement... in this world, women simply are the homemakers, they are the keepers of Judaism, the ones that pass the laws of keeping kosher, of modesty and family purity, and of observing the holidays, and of everything else that religion entails on to the next generation. Women and men are both bound by their biology... a man must go out of the home, he must pray in a group of 10, he must work to feed the wife and umpteen children, just as the woman must stay home, must put the needs of the umpteen children over her own spiritual desire to pray and in so doing, serve her spirit and the greater good. In all honesty, it sounds like a perfectly delightful, satisfying life. But it is not the life that was laid out for me. I was told I was an equal and as such should be treated equally. I was told I had a right and a responsibility to do as much, educationally and professionally, as I could, and as such was programmed to believe that to do less would be demeaning. In essence I was never given a chance to live in a world where men and women are fundamentally, biologically, mentally, and spiritually meant for different things. Much like a Rabbi's daughter was brought up to believe that to be the same as a man would be to deny her true self, I was brought up to believe that to be different from a man would be to subvert my own.
All of this feeds into a more universal- from reform "High-Holiday Jews" (the same as your Christmas/Easter christians) to the most religious- Jewish expectation for women. To perpetuate the race... if it even is a race. It certainly is not only a religion, due to the preservation of the bloodlines for thousands of years such that a jew today can trace their DNA back to a specific tribe that wandered the desert, and such that the mitochondrial DNA can identify one a jew, should they have never heard a word of hebrew. Mitochondial DNA... that is the essence of Judaism's expectations for its women. Mitochondrial DNA is passed from mother to child, mother to child, down through the centuries such that, should one's maternal great great grandmother had been jewish, that would still be in your mitochondria today. And Judaism, like mitochondrial DNA, is passed by the mother. All you need to be born a Jew is a jewish mother. Even if your father was a turkey baster. Or Michael Jackson. Or Hitler.
Sure you can convert, and this has, I imagine, screwed up some of that mitochondrial DNA, but there it is... my mother gave me 2 things: her mitochondrial DNA, and her Judaism. But those 2 things did not make me a Jew... because religion is something you have to practice. And in order to practice, you need to be taught... you need your mother, pillar of the home, center of the family, spiritual anchor, to teach you how to braid a Challah and light a Shabbat candle and wear ankle length skirts, and visit a mikvah. My mother, as you probably have already figured out, did not really train me to do any of those things. She taught me to be a man's equal (and then my father told me I shouldnt limit myself to just being his equal), she taught me to like physics, and love space and to kinda be a jew on the side, where it fit in. I suppose by falling in with Chabad I am trying to take back a choice that was made a long time ago, by not even my parents or my grandparents, but by my great (or great great) Polish immigrant grandparents who just wanted to fit in. Well, congrats, great great grandpa, we certainly do fit in! But at what cost?
And then, because no Jewish story would be complete without this spectre hanging over us, there is also the Holocaust expectations. The make Jewish babies until you pay back every one they killed. Then make one more so that you increase our number rather than make it a zero sum equation. This is the giant, epic guilt that faces every Jew, every day. The rationale that I owe it to those who weren't allowed to be Jewish or who were slaughtered simply because they were Jewish... those who questioned rabbis, in concentration camps, whether they should be allowed to eat their rationed slice of bread on passover. Yeah, you think about that next time you only make it through 3 days before hitting the chicken nuggets. Starving people, who were fed not quite enough to survive, who became walking skeletons, and who were freezing to death besides, would have not eaten bread because it was forbidden on passover. Someone owes these people a little respect. Someone owes them to keep doing what they died attempting to do. And, of course, that someone is every single Jewish woman in the entire world, present and future.
So thats the Jewish woman guilt. And the expectations of multiple societies that we struggle with every day. Be jewish-ish? Be extra Jewish? Make Jewish babies? Make Jewish babies until you undo 6 million deaths? Be secular? Fit in? Have a career? Be equal? Be different but of equal standing? Be anything that you want? Be what you were born to be (and by who's definition)? It is impossible to be them all. My job will not permit perfect Judaism. Ask me why at 11:45pm on Friday when I am driving home from work. Ask me why next month when I get to work at 7am on Saturday. And perfect Judaism will not permit my job. Ask the woman with 11 children, who feeds the stray Jews of the community at a 30 person Shabbat dinner every week, when she would have time to control the International Space Station.
It makes every day a struggle... who wants you to be what? And who do you listen to? Well you would say the simple answer is to be who you want. I would laugh at you, if it weren't so serious. Because what you want to be is not just a matter of you, waking up and deciding this is your life... it is an attitude you were raised with, that was handed down from your mother, just like your mitochondrial DNA. I want to be an astronaut. I want to love my boyfriend, who is sweet and adorable and nerdy and so wonderful and who makes me ridiculously, sometimes unbearably happy. But alternate reality me probably would not want those things... alternate reality me, the Chabad rabbi's daughter, would want to grow up to be a rabbi's wife, just like my alternate reality mother. She would never have shaken hands with, let alone had sex with, a nice non jewish boy, no matter how wonderful he was. But all that is really beside the point, because she would never have met him because she wouldn't be an engineer. She wouldn't work for NASA or control the International Space Station or even dream of working on Friday nights after sundown. She, at 23, would probably be betrothed, if not married to some nice Yeshiva student in Brooklyn. Her life would not be emptier- in fact, in many ways it would be fuller than mine- and she would not really know any better. Like actual reality me, she might meet someone who was leading her alternate reality life and wonder what that might have been like, and she might wonder if it was better, or at least more free, if she might have been happier. But in the end she, like me, would conclude that she was leading the life she wanted because it was the life she was raised to want, and that she will keep on playing that part.
Of course all that says nothing about the intricacies of my life, which alternate reality me does not have. Because between her and I are various levels of jew-ish. Like, the level of Jewish my grandparents want- go to temple on the high holidays, marry a nice jewish boy, have nice similarly leveled jewish children, but don't do anything more. They are just as displeased that I choose to go to Chabad, wear long sleeves in July, sit on the womens side, as they would be if I married a non-jew and had mitochondrially Jewish but maybe not actually Jewish children. Or the level of Jewish my dad wants- he who thinks that rice and beer are fine on passover, that this "no pork" thing is stupid, that orthodox jews treat women as second class citizens. And then theres the constantly evolving level of Jewish I am... like maybe this pork thing was a silly idea, or maybe I will pick a new kosher thing to do and then be a step closer to being less Jew-ish and more Jewish.
1. There's too much pressure to be everything to everybody.
2. Nobody actually wants anything in a vacuum, there are always factors.
3. I have made a decision... I WILL do what I want. Which is this: date Dan. Maybe, hopefully, wishfully marry Dan. I will raise good, intelligent children to be just as messed up as I am but maybe not quite as Jewish. I will go to Chabad and not eat pork for as long as it damn well suits me to do so. I will believe that sitting on the womens side does not make me less of an equal to men in my secular life, nor does it actually devalue me in my spiritual life. And I will not, no matter who I marry, actually undo any of the multitude of wrongs perpetrated during the holocaust. I cannot singlehandedly, nor as a group of put-upon Jewish women, make up for the evil in the world and I refuse to believe that it is my duty to even try.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
I'm back!
Its been long enough, don't you think?
Well I do. And I miss writing. So much. To put words down and think that someone, somewhere, might read them. That they might matter to the world even for just a moment.
Why am I writing at 3am? Not the usual reason, which is that I used to write when I couldn't sleep, while having mental breakdowns in the middle of the night and sat sobbing in the dark while roommates, family, friends were sleeping around me. Nope, this is a better reason! I am in Mission Control for the International Space Station. We staff 24/7, and tonight it is my turn to babysit the billion dollar government vehicle in the middle of the night.
Since the last time I wrote, I got certified. Which means I earned the right to sit here at 3am. Since the last time I wrote, I got my heart broken. And with the help of friends, family, and time, I managed to survive. Since the last time I wrote, I started dating a new boy. And bought a house. My little sister graduated from college and got a job in Georgia. My little brother started at UCF.
I sit here, exhausted, at the edge of consciousness, waiting for things to go wrong, praying they all stay right. I have 4 more hours til handover, 5 more til I can go to bed. My american express bill was over $5,000, higher than I think it has ever been. My maintenance required light in my car has been on for a month. I have bugs, no curtains, and need to vacuum. PVTCS 1B is gonna undertemp on me one of these days, thats what the beeping in my ear is trying to tell me.
Also, I am happy. The kind of happy that you usually want to punch people for. Sometimes I just walk around with a stupid cheesy smile pasted on my face. I can't really explain it, and I'm not sure there's any good reason for it. I mean work is good... but theres still alot of bureaucratic crap not to mention me being here at 3:30 in the morning and sleep deprived. And the house is awesome... but also turning into a bit of a money pit. Plus, did I mention the bugs? Oh and I have yet to mention that I mowed on Saturday and am now sore (I have triceps... I know this because I feel them), mosquito bitten, blistered, and not the least bit interested in ever doing that again. And the boyfriend... well, I will get to that in a second. But all these things, while lovely, are not any more perfect than things ever have been. Plus I live in Houston, bottom 5 of great cities in the world, plus approximately 9,000 degrees in July. Most things are about as imperfect as things are. But still, I feel... happy.
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, you are saying. Fine.
So lets talk about the boyfriend. Pros: He's nice. Funny. Kinda cute, in a nerdy sort of way. Puts up with a fair amount of my craziness. Likes my hair short. Is restoring an old beetle in his garage (this impresses me greatly). Has an entire bookshelf full of dorky sci fi books. He works for USA, like me... and he's smart.
[Aside: You may not know, because I pretended like it didn't matter, but I always worried that if ex (from now on we will not use his name) and I had kids they would be dumb. Not like "average intelligence but dumber than me" dumb... like, actual dumb. Like 'I need my mommy to do my homework' dumb or... functionally illiterate dumb. And lets face it. The world needs no more dumb people. The world needs smart people. The world needs smart people to breed more smart people. If I had procreated with ex, I think I would have given up my right to complain about dumb people the way people who don't vote give up their right to complain about who is elected. On the other hand, now he is free to go off and breed with his tramp, or other dumb girl of his choosing... probably will overpower any good I could do for the gene pool.]
Anyways, if you could not tell, I have totally fallen for this guy. But I am attempting to proceed with caution. I want to be good at what I do, I want to be completely in love with this job, I want to be smart, I want to be a writer even if it is just a blog. I want to make sarcastic jokes and talk excitedly in acronyms nobody can follow. I want to take pride in all the things I don't need a husband for... I mowed my own lawn damnit! I want to spend hours on the phone with my bestest buddy Alifaya talking about nothing in particular. I want to go places and do things because I want to do them. I want to do sit-ups just because I can and not because they'll make me look better naked. When I was younger and less together I forgot how important that stuff was. And I don't want to do that again.
We'll save the Jew/nonJew conversation for another post. For now, just know that somehow I am in this glorious moment-in-the-sun kind of place in my life and, though I doubt it can last forever, things are pretty awesome. Now only an hour and a half til handover... must. stay. awake.
Well I do. And I miss writing. So much. To put words down and think that someone, somewhere, might read them. That they might matter to the world even for just a moment.
Why am I writing at 3am? Not the usual reason, which is that I used to write when I couldn't sleep, while having mental breakdowns in the middle of the night and sat sobbing in the dark while roommates, family, friends were sleeping around me. Nope, this is a better reason! I am in Mission Control for the International Space Station. We staff 24/7, and tonight it is my turn to babysit the billion dollar government vehicle in the middle of the night.
Since the last time I wrote, I got certified. Which means I earned the right to sit here at 3am. Since the last time I wrote, I got my heart broken. And with the help of friends, family, and time, I managed to survive. Since the last time I wrote, I started dating a new boy. And bought a house. My little sister graduated from college and got a job in Georgia. My little brother started at UCF.
I sit here, exhausted, at the edge of consciousness, waiting for things to go wrong, praying they all stay right. I have 4 more hours til handover, 5 more til I can go to bed. My american express bill was over $5,000, higher than I think it has ever been. My maintenance required light in my car has been on for a month. I have bugs, no curtains, and need to vacuum. PVTCS 1B is gonna undertemp on me one of these days, thats what the beeping in my ear is trying to tell me.
Also, I am happy. The kind of happy that you usually want to punch people for. Sometimes I just walk around with a stupid cheesy smile pasted on my face. I can't really explain it, and I'm not sure there's any good reason for it. I mean work is good... but theres still alot of bureaucratic crap not to mention me being here at 3:30 in the morning and sleep deprived. And the house is awesome... but also turning into a bit of a money pit. Plus, did I mention the bugs? Oh and I have yet to mention that I mowed on Saturday and am now sore (I have triceps... I know this because I feel them), mosquito bitten, blistered, and not the least bit interested in ever doing that again. And the boyfriend... well, I will get to that in a second. But all these things, while lovely, are not any more perfect than things ever have been. Plus I live in Houston, bottom 5 of great cities in the world, plus approximately 9,000 degrees in July. Most things are about as imperfect as things are. But still, I feel... happy.
Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, you are saying. Fine.
So lets talk about the boyfriend. Pros: He's nice. Funny. Kinda cute, in a nerdy sort of way. Puts up with a fair amount of my craziness. Likes my hair short. Is restoring an old beetle in his garage (this impresses me greatly). Has an entire bookshelf full of dorky sci fi books. He works for USA, like me... and he's smart.
[Aside: You may not know, because I pretended like it didn't matter, but I always worried that if ex (from now on we will not use his name) and I had kids they would be dumb. Not like "average intelligence but dumber than me" dumb... like, actual dumb. Like 'I need my mommy to do my homework' dumb or... functionally illiterate dumb. And lets face it. The world needs no more dumb people. The world needs smart people. The world needs smart people to breed more smart people. If I had procreated with ex, I think I would have given up my right to complain about dumb people the way people who don't vote give up their right to complain about who is elected. On the other hand, now he is free to go off and breed with his tramp, or other dumb girl of his choosing... probably will overpower any good I could do for the gene pool.]
Anyways, if you could not tell, I have totally fallen for this guy. But I am attempting to proceed with caution. I want to be good at what I do, I want to be completely in love with this job, I want to be smart, I want to be a writer even if it is just a blog. I want to make sarcastic jokes and talk excitedly in acronyms nobody can follow. I want to take pride in all the things I don't need a husband for... I mowed my own lawn damnit! I want to spend hours on the phone with my bestest buddy Alifaya talking about nothing in particular. I want to go places and do things because I want to do them. I want to do sit-ups just because I can and not because they'll make me look better naked. When I was younger and less together I forgot how important that stuff was. And I don't want to do that again.
We'll save the Jew/nonJew conversation for another post. For now, just know that somehow I am in this glorious moment-in-the-sun kind of place in my life and, though I doubt it can last forever, things are pretty awesome. Now only an hour and a half til handover... must. stay. awake.
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