A fall day in late October, riding the Pennsylvanian across the commonwealth’s rolling red-and-orange-and-yellow-and-brown-and-all-colors-in-between farms, listening to Simon and Garfunkel’s Greatest Hits. “This could be an almost perfect day. Enjoy it.”
(while practicing driving stick...)
first thought: I hate driving stick.
second (attempting positive) thought: I love working at Starbucks. I need to drive myself to work.
third thought: I really can't drive stick.
first thought: I mamash hate stick.
second thought: BE POSITIVE, SELF!
third thought: It's too dangerous! I can't even get into first gear!
second thought: POSITIVE!
first thought: I really really really really don't like this.
second thought: argh.
My Bubby, while talking about How to Find Me a Husband, on Dating:
"I don't know the hot-spots any more... I've been out of circulation for a while."
(on how I think.)
The man in front of me (everyone is in front of me, I sit in the rear at the bar) wears an orange shirt. He is older, but cool. I know this to be true because he bikes (note right pant leg tucked into sock), shaves his head, and has checked both his gmail and facebook accounts thus far. He sits with a woman ("a writer") (overheard from conversation with another patron, a "'fiction' non-fiction writer"), who is looking quizzically at her book. It also seems that she knit her sweater (chenille, mock-turtle, multi-colored yarn).
At the table in front of this cool older couple is a kid, maybe my age, though it looks like he is graying. He is working on something very intently at his computer. I know this to be true because he has not once looked up at me, though I keep waiting for him to admire my cafe-beauty (selfish, we are).
In the middle of the room, sitting alone with a cup of tea and a wedding band, is an older Indian man. He occasionally watches the street, occasionally the tv mounted on the wall (CNN). He is tapping his foot (right) to the beat of the music.
And Along the Far Wall--
Another older man (it is late! shouldn't all the old people be at home? There is yet hope for my future!), documents open in much profusion on his laptop, keeps turning his head to an awkward angle to watch the tv (CNN reaction to The Infomercial).
There was a family of four on the lounge chairs at the front of the room when I walked in, playing trivial pursuit. Very beautiful. Kids my age, too.
The barista is behind me, standing unseen at the bar. She is "an actress." She has red hair (dyed), bangs, and wide hips.
(A commercial for Iron Gym cannot be that interesting!)
-and this is the part where I analyze the above.-
As I was sitting here reading Derech Hashem/The Way of God (yes, intelligent as well!)... well, I don't know how to continue that sentence without it sounding more pretentious than it does. R' Moshe Chaim Luzatto writes in the introduction:
"When an individual is confronted by many details and does not know how they relate to one another or their true place in a general system, then his inquisitive intellect is given nothing more than a difficult unsatisfying burden. He may struggle with it, but he will tire and grow weary long before he attains any gratification. Each detail will arouse his curiosity, but not having access to the concept as a whole, he will remain frustrated.
"If one wishes to understand something, it is therefore very important that he be aware of other things associated with it as well as its place among them. Without this, one's longing for truth will be frustrated and he will be pained by his unsatisfied desire.
"The exact opposite is true when one knows something in relation to its context. Since he sees it within its framework, he can go on to grasp other concepts associated with it, and his success will bring him pleasure and elation."
I am just a poor boy
Though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles
Such are promises
All lies and jests
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest
When I left my home and my family
I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station
Running scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters
Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know
Lie la lie...
Asking only workman's wages
I come looking for a job
But I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
Lie la lie...
Then I'm laying out my winter clothes
And wishing I was gone
Going home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me,
Leading me, going home.
In the clearing stands a boxer
And a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down
Or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving"
But the fighter still remains
I watched Pride and Prejudice last night (the newer less-truthful one, sadly) and now life just seems so-- so regular! Clearly, I am Elizabeth Bennet in dire need of a Mr. Darcy!
Once upon a time, my AIM away message read, every Friday, "it's Friday I'm in love." Some among us might recognize this as being the title of a popular early 90's song by The Cure. Others among us, my mother in particular, may not be aware of this cultural reference and think that indeed, rebecca is in love with someone. One Friday afternoon my freshman year of college, my mother called me. We had a normal conversation, talking about home, classes, etc., and then, as I was about to hang up, she asked me who I was dating.
What? I'm not dating anyone.
There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. Problems with Parents Using Technology.
In recognition of love and Fridays and parents, I would like to share this really happy song by Michael Franti with you. Enjoy!
1.
email forward from my father today:
2.
script of a letter found in the envelope along with my paycheck:
Rebecca,
I believe i spoke to your father on the phone while trying to find out if you are in Pgh or [ ]. He was very funny.... Wanted to know where my name came from, told me about Japanese history, and tried to get your check depositted into his account.
Happy Summer,
Minda
1.
I haven't felt any urge to update lately. Maybe I feel my life is better kept only within myself, maybe I no longer crave the approval/adoration/simple readership that frequent posting bequeaths. Regardless, life continues to be lived and thoughts continue to be thunk.
2.
What is it with everyone (ok so of course not everyone but way more than expected)(especially when one's expectations are no one) doing drugs (smoking/pot/excessive drinking)? Is life not wonderful and challenging when we just live?
3.
I have a friend (American) who is thinking of getting a civil marriage with this Israeli she likes (who does not like her) so that he won't be deported.
4.
You know how TV sitcoms have, generally after every line, a laugh track? And the purpose of this pre-recorded laugh track is to imply that the previously stated lines were, indeed, funny? So whenever I heard this I took the lines and the laugh under consideration, judged the humor, maybe had a fleeting internal smile, but never ("never") actually laughed out loud. And because I reacted to the laugh track in such a manner, I assumed all people did. However, dear friends, this is not true. I recently was in the presence of someone who laughed, a real, genuine laugh, along with every single laugh track. I don't really know how to respond to this.
5.
I found this challah cover in a thrift store a month ago. Auspicious place for a challah cover...
that it is not yet 9:00 am and I have just returned from schlepping a new set of dishes and pots to the mikvah to toivel them.
For now, I have no time to add my commentary and disgust, but please read this article at JPost...
Here are some highlights:
the High Rabbinical Court of Israel has declared invalid all conversions performed since 1999 by Rabbi Haim Drukman, the head of the Conversion Authority. ...
a panel of three high court judges ruled that all conversions conducted since 1999 by Rabbi Drukman - who heads the Conversion Authority - and another rabbi, must be declared invalid.
They also ruled that it was permitted to retroactively cancel the conversion of someone who does not observe the Sabbath. ...
On the basis of the ensuing discussion, the judge ruled the woman's conversion invalid, and in consequence, that her children, who were born after her conversion, are not Jewish. ...
The verdict rendered the Jewish status of thousands of converts retroactively invalid, and required them to convert a second time.
Last semester (last semester being this past spring semester, which has since past and left me no longer a student in the traditional sense) I attended a talk by Lori Palatnik titled "Kabbalah of You: Understanding Yourself and Others." Basically, there are three main essences or drives - חיים/Chayim/Life; ברכה/Bracha/Blessing; and טוב/Tov/Good.
These essences are evident in each person, and manifest themselves differently in a person's body and soul. Meaning, a person's body "relates" itself to an essence as does a person's soul. Knowing what "type" of person [I can hear Kate criticizing me already] we are, and what types our friends our, can really help us interact. Also, as was emphasized in Lori's talk, they really help us find our bsheret/soul-mate. Specifically, we look to marry someone with the things we are missing because we are yearning for the completion of one soul. (As reads my notes.)
Please find below a rendition of the three different essences as they apply to soul and body. Try to figure out which one you are. I, being a more complicated type of person, had to marinate over this for a few weeks before I finally became certain in which essences fit me best. (guess!)
Life is a one way street and
If you could paint it,
I'd draw myself going in the right direction,
So I go all the way.
Like I reallly really know but the truth is-
I'm only guessing.
Rose of Pain
His big toe stared back at me,
a skunk wandering the road at night,
visible in its impending death.
I stomped on it, made sure to grind it into the soil
with my stiletto.
I removed my foot from the point of damage
and viewed my work,
satisfied at the new passage to China.
I hate your big toe.
You crack your toes.
It makes me want to kill you.
It smells like the fridge-
you forgot to clean it during a 3-month vacation in Brazil.
When we lay next to each other in the night
and you touched me, it was the feeling like
falling hard into the concrete
and scraping your entire body
after hearing your father died.
Your big toe.
It would taste like the moldy milk
you left in the fridge.
There is dirt under your toe nail.
The nail is jagged and chipped.
The dark hair curls.
I want to kill you.
The sound of your approaching footsteps
Is revolting in its dirty browns and yellows.
Jesus will never forgive you.
I thought it was just a stage.
I was mistaken.
I love every inch of you.
Love.
I told my mom I loved her every day.
I really did.
I don’t love many people,
because my mom said love is liberating
and I’m a conservative.
Pfth.
Our family isn’t normal.
It started when the sweet
orange of faith came into town.
You gave me a rose
and I didn’t like the way it smelled.
I watched you flirt
with the cashier at the food store.
You didn’t see me.
Invisible.
When you come home,
I’ll rip you apart.
Sweet trash of roses.
The window was left open
to let in some air.
but ended up destroying the wood.
(from Two Types of Faith)
There are two, and in the end only two, types of faith. To be sure there are very many contents of faith, but we only know faith itself in two basic forms. Both can be understood from the simple data of our life: the one from the fact that I trust someone, without being able to offer sufficient reasons for my trust in him; the other from the fact that likewise without being able to give a sufficient reason, I acknowledge a thing to be true. In both cases my not being able to give a sufficient reason is not a matter of defectiveness in my ability to think, but of a real peculiarity in my relationship to the one whom I trust or to that which I acknowledge to be true. It is a relationship which by its nature does not rest upon 'reasons', just as it does not grow from such; reasons of course can be urged for it, but they are never sufficient to account for my faith.
...
The relationship of trust depends upon a state of contact, a contact of my entire being with the one in whom I trust, the relationship of acknowledging depends upon an act of acceptance, an acceptance by my entire being of that which I acknowledge to be true. ...It is obvious that trust also has a beginning in time, but the one who trusts does not know when : he identifies it of necessity with the beginning of the contact; on the other hand the one who acknowledges truth stands to that which he acknowledges as true, not as to something new, only now appearing and making its claim, but as to something eternal which has only now become actual; therefore for the first the status is the decisive thing, doe the second the act.
