after a self imposed ban on blogging, something happened today to cause me to rethink that theory.
There are times in our lives when something small happens, we see a particular activity taking place, and we step back to rethink our beliefs. There are times when a casual interaction or observation can force us to evaluate our concept of self and our place in the world, our pre-conceived notions of our position in society, our level of acclimation to the environment around us.
and sometimes following that event, observation, or activity, we just look at ourselves differently.
Wesley Kosher now does deliveries.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Didn't You Ever Take a Standardized Test?!?
I wonder if the poll worker volunteers ever took standardized tests as children. Or if they are aware that people take such tests. Or if they have ever had to fill out a form with little circles on it. I know I appear youthful at times, but do I look like an infant? Or do I have SUCH a vacuous and dull looking expression that these volunteers assume I am an absolute idiot??
I arrive at my local polling place, which doubles as a public school during regular hours.
ME: Hi, people, here to fullfill my civic duty!! Wait! what district am I?
(this happens every single time I come to vote. There are three tables set up, District 20, 86, and something else)
ME: Oh, nevermind, I remember now. I am district 20. Take the three digits of my house number, double it, add the number of drivers in my house, I got it
POLL WORKER: Just sign here (points to my name, in case I don't recognize it)
ME: okay, I'm off!
POLL WORKER: wait, Jim will explain what to do.
JIM: (rips off a sheet from a printed pad) This is a primary election.
pause.
ME: uh, yeah, I know, I am here to vote!
JIM: great! There are five positions with candidates running. (points to the five categories)
pause.
ME: uh, yeah, I know, I am here to vote!
JIM: so in each category, there are two or three people running for the position indicated on the top of the box. (Jim points to the top of the box)
ME: great!
JIM: next to each name is a small oval. (Jim points to each oval next to each candidate's name)
ME: (to myself. "THIS IS NOT REALLY HAPPENING")
JIM: So you need to pick one candidate in each category and carefully fill in the small oval located next to the candidate of your choice's name. Only one per office! Then proceed to the private booths to fill in your choice. When you are done you may place your ballot into this privacy folder, and then walk over to that area and the gentleman there will assist you.
ME: I carefully fill in my ovals, walk over to the brush-inhibited and hair-cut challenged individual sitting near the computer thing (Scantron). As I approach he gets up and walks out of the room. So I follow the clear instructions and place my ballot in the computer.
okay. am I actually living in the 21st century? The entire country is progressive and now doing these kinds of ballots? The poll worker told me these new ballots are so they can be accessible to wheel chair bound voters. The ADA has created this change.
I arrive at my local polling place, which doubles as a public school during regular hours.
ME: Hi, people, here to fullfill my civic duty!! Wait! what district am I?
(this happens every single time I come to vote. There are three tables set up, District 20, 86, and something else)
ME: Oh, nevermind, I remember now. I am district 20. Take the three digits of my house number, double it, add the number of drivers in my house, I got it
POLL WORKER: Just sign here (points to my name, in case I don't recognize it)
ME: okay, I'm off!
POLL WORKER: wait, Jim will explain what to do.
JIM: (rips off a sheet from a printed pad) This is a primary election.
pause.
ME: uh, yeah, I know, I am here to vote!
JIM: great! There are five positions with candidates running. (points to the five categories)
pause.
ME: uh, yeah, I know, I am here to vote!
JIM: so in each category, there are two or three people running for the position indicated on the top of the box. (Jim points to the top of the box)
ME: great!
JIM: next to each name is a small oval. (Jim points to each oval next to each candidate's name)
ME: (to myself. "THIS IS NOT REALLY HAPPENING")
JIM: So you need to pick one candidate in each category and carefully fill in the small oval located next to the candidate of your choice's name. Only one per office! Then proceed to the private booths to fill in your choice. When you are done you may place your ballot into this privacy folder, and then walk over to that area and the gentleman there will assist you.
ME: I carefully fill in my ovals, walk over to the brush-inhibited and hair-cut challenged individual sitting near the computer thing (Scantron). As I approach he gets up and walks out of the room. So I follow the clear instructions and place my ballot in the computer.
okay. am I actually living in the 21st century? The entire country is progressive and now doing these kinds of ballots? The poll worker told me these new ballots are so they can be accessible to wheel chair bound voters. The ADA has created this change.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Uman
Can't afford to go to Uman? Don't like to fly? Wish you had a rebbe to visit in a cemetery in the U.S.? Tired of letting all that money go to some European country whose residents would have been happy to give you up to the Nazis?
The Solution Is Right Here in Your Neighborhood!!
Tickets now being sold to camp out on neighboring properties to spend Rosh Hashana at the Brick Church Cemetery, right here in New Hempstead/Monsey! There are so many advantages to staying at a local graveyard this Rosh Hashana:
There are different neighborhoods and different rabbanim buried here. Choose your grave from across the religious spectrum!
There is a lot of lighting from local homes. We have good street lights here in America.
No need to deal with foreign currency. If you need a pre-yom tov slice of kugel, run down to Meal Mart and pull out the ole' George Washington.
Why deal with catered or institutionalized food, when the wife can run over with warm homemade food you're accustomed to? Don't compromise on the meals you are used to getting every other Yom Tov! and Shabbos! Let your wife know how much you value her cooking and how important Yom Tov meals are to you! It's about the sanctity of the chag.
Your family can visit you Yom Tov Afternoon.
If you don't want to see your family, you can hide in the *other* cemetery nearby. The revolutionary war soldiers were great marksmen. America protects its own.
Local heimishe families are gracious to locals and needy Jews who pass by. They know the value of proper indoor plumbing.
Staying local affords you the opportunity to still attend your regular shiurim. You might appreciate a good snooze in an air conditioned building, too.
You might get some other passersby to join you in the davening.
Most of all, staying local shows your family how important it is to you to make sure you are around them for the chag. Special areas will be set aside for fathers to hear their children's divrei Torah!!
Shana Tova!!
The Solution Is Right Here in Your Neighborhood!!
Tickets now being sold to camp out on neighboring properties to spend Rosh Hashana at the Brick Church Cemetery, right here in New Hempstead/Monsey! There are so many advantages to staying at a local graveyard this Rosh Hashana:
There are different neighborhoods and different rabbanim buried here. Choose your grave from across the religious spectrum!
There is a lot of lighting from local homes. We have good street lights here in America.
No need to deal with foreign currency. If you need a pre-yom tov slice of kugel, run down to Meal Mart and pull out the ole' George Washington.
Why deal with catered or institutionalized food, when the wife can run over with warm homemade food you're accustomed to? Don't compromise on the meals you are used to getting every other Yom Tov! and Shabbos! Let your wife know how much you value her cooking and how important Yom Tov meals are to you! It's about the sanctity of the chag.
Your family can visit you Yom Tov Afternoon.
If you don't want to see your family, you can hide in the *other* cemetery nearby. The revolutionary war soldiers were great marksmen. America protects its own.
Local heimishe families are gracious to locals and needy Jews who pass by. They know the value of proper indoor plumbing.
Staying local affords you the opportunity to still attend your regular shiurim. You might appreciate a good snooze in an air conditioned building, too.
You might get some other passersby to join you in the davening.
Most of all, staying local shows your family how important it is to you to make sure you are around them for the chag. Special areas will be set aside for fathers to hear their children's divrei Torah!!
Shana Tova!!
Monday, September 6, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Observation #1
I"m embarrassed to say it, but here goes:
women really are awful drivers. and they don't know how to park in parking spaces with lines. (but chassidish men are pretty bad at that, too).
everyone except for my sister and I.
women really are awful drivers. and they don't know how to park in parking spaces with lines. (but chassidish men are pretty bad at that, too).
everyone except for my sister and I.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
24/6
I recently saw a blog post somewhere (not sure where) in which a discussion ensued about women in some chassidish communities now wearing spring coats so they are not overly appealing in their regular summer clothes when out and about shopping or strolling on shabbos.
You heard me right, folks. Some very very clever businessman (emphasis on man) decided the level of tzniyus in his neighborhood, motivated I guess by the level of money in his bank account, was too low. Women walking around in their black shapeless suits or baggy zip up shirts and A-line skirts was too suggestive. So to protect eyes and thoughts from straying, women are wearing coats. in the summer. in 98 degree weather.
IT ISN'T YIDDISHKEIT, IT'S NARISHKEIT. (I have to trademark that comment)
it's like the expression 24/7 which everyone knows means "all the time". but some zealot somewhere was probably worried that it may be perceived as someone doing said activity on shabbos, so just to clarify (because how they live their life, daven, learn, where they send the kids to school, how they do business, what their family is like, blah blah wasn't enough proof that they are solid frum people) they modified the comment.
sick sick sick.
You heard me right, folks. Some very very clever businessman (emphasis on man) decided the level of tzniyus in his neighborhood, motivated I guess by the level of money in his bank account, was too low. Women walking around in their black shapeless suits or baggy zip up shirts and A-line skirts was too suggestive. So to protect eyes and thoughts from straying, women are wearing coats. in the summer. in 98 degree weather.
IT ISN'T YIDDISHKEIT, IT'S NARISHKEIT. (I have to trademark that comment)
it's like the expression 24/7 which everyone knows means "all the time". but some zealot somewhere was probably worried that it may be perceived as someone doing said activity on shabbos, so just to clarify (because how they live their life, daven, learn, where they send the kids to school, how they do business, what their family is like, blah blah wasn't enough proof that they are solid frum people) they modified the comment.
sick sick sick.
Monday, August 9, 2010
I Feel Newly Married!!
I had such an enlightening and youthful moment this evening.
I felt newly married.
I made a fresh supper.
It has been so long, I got reacquainted with my lovely dishes, pots, and utensils!
DIP1 and YBS are home, and I have run out of edible leftovers, hence something fresh.
actually, while scouting around for a specific Tupperware to put my lettuce in, I happened to glance upwards, and noticed it under some Tupperware cereal boxes. Upon opening the container, I discovered the fat free/whole wheat/splenda mini blueberry muffins (thanks G6, sorry I don't know how to link) I made a few weeks ago. I had wondered where they had gone, since I know I didn't eat all of them. I also looked at them for a moment or two, because I didn't recall icing them. with white, fuzzy icing. Oh well. I then decided I really needed to cook something new because the fuzzy white mini muffins are a testimonial to the food situation in our kitchen.
(I gave the cleaning lady two rolls on Thursday which DIP1 insists had mold on them, but luckily my lenses weren't in, and I shouted at Juana "YOU SEE MOLD??? LOOK GOOD??" and I just slapped on some tuna. her husband hasn't come to complain she is sick so I guess all is okay. whatever. mold=penicillin=free health care for illegals, so whose complaining??)
So I defrosted several half opened packages of chicken and made a yummy dinner. actually I just cut up carrots, sweet potatoes, onions, zuchinni, and red pepper, threw the chicken on top, sprinkled on seasoned salt, and baked. yum:
DIP1: Fleishigs? what is this, you cooked? something fresh? what's wrong?
YBS: I hate vegetables
DIP1: I had fleishigs for lunch.
YBS: I hate vegetables. But I like onions. I love onions. and Potatoes are vegetables. But not sweet potatoes
Me: Look at all those vitamins! swimming in chicken fat because I didn't have time to skin the chicken!
(okay, this is a little personal, but since I didn't skin the chickens, I also didn't remove the "end" of the chicken, like the "bottom" body part)
Hubby: yum, you left on the betzelshe, my favorite (gobbles it up)
DIP1: UCH!! GROSS! YOU CAN'T EAT THAT!
Hubby: nu, nu!
DIP1: you made a bracha already???
Me: can you even make a bracha on that part of the chicken? it's fat and skin. fui
YBS: these onions are great, thanks ma
DIP1: I really wanted a pizza bagel. and when you spice chicken, dear mother, you have to put the spice under the skin so it has flavor.
this is a complaint of DIP3 who removes the skin on other occasions when I don't have time to remove it, and shmears the de-skinned chicken with skin reversed so the spices go on the chicken flesh.
at this point we are all milchigs already. thankfully. I found a string cheese.
I felt newly married.
I made a fresh supper.
It has been so long, I got reacquainted with my lovely dishes, pots, and utensils!
DIP1 and YBS are home, and I have run out of edible leftovers, hence something fresh.
actually, while scouting around for a specific Tupperware to put my lettuce in, I happened to glance upwards, and noticed it under some Tupperware cereal boxes. Upon opening the container, I discovered the fat free/whole wheat/splenda mini blueberry muffins (thanks G6, sorry I don't know how to link) I made a few weeks ago. I had wondered where they had gone, since I know I didn't eat all of them. I also looked at them for a moment or two, because I didn't recall icing them. with white, fuzzy icing. Oh well. I then decided I really needed to cook something new because the fuzzy white mini muffins are a testimonial to the food situation in our kitchen.
(I gave the cleaning lady two rolls on Thursday which DIP1 insists had mold on them, but luckily my lenses weren't in, and I shouted at Juana "YOU SEE MOLD??? LOOK GOOD??" and I just slapped on some tuna. her husband hasn't come to complain she is sick so I guess all is okay. whatever. mold=penicillin=free health care for illegals, so whose complaining??)
So I defrosted several half opened packages of chicken and made a yummy dinner. actually I just cut up carrots, sweet potatoes, onions, zuchinni, and red pepper, threw the chicken on top, sprinkled on seasoned salt, and baked. yum:
DIP1: Fleishigs? what is this, you cooked? something fresh? what's wrong?
YBS: I hate vegetables
DIP1: I had fleishigs for lunch.
YBS: I hate vegetables. But I like onions. I love onions. and Potatoes are vegetables. But not sweet potatoes
Me: Look at all those vitamins! swimming in chicken fat because I didn't have time to skin the chicken!
(okay, this is a little personal, but since I didn't skin the chickens, I also didn't remove the "end" of the chicken, like the "bottom" body part)
Hubby: yum, you left on the betzelshe, my favorite (gobbles it up)
DIP1: UCH!! GROSS! YOU CAN'T EAT THAT!
Hubby: nu, nu!
DIP1: you made a bracha already???
Me: can you even make a bracha on that part of the chicken? it's fat and skin. fui
YBS: these onions are great, thanks ma
DIP1: I really wanted a pizza bagel. and when you spice chicken, dear mother, you have to put the spice under the skin so it has flavor.
this is a complaint of DIP3 who removes the skin on other occasions when I don't have time to remove it, and shmears the de-skinned chicken with skin reversed so the spices go on the chicken flesh.
at this point we are all milchigs already. thankfully. I found a string cheese.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)