Anti-Social

Some people might call me anti-social. I hate running into people I know (except good friends), anytime, anywhere. In fact, I purposely avoid people I know if I see them somewhere. If I see them coming towards me, I will turn around and go the other way. I hate the small talk, the pretending to care what is going on in their life, what they are up to, and them doing the same to me. I hate it. I have not seen them in who-knows-how-long, and if neither one of us cared enough to seek the other out beforehand and catch up, it goes without saying that we definitely do not care now. I do not even care enough to stop and get whatever gossip I can. It is all so fake. So why bother? Why pretend?

I do not do this to everyone, though. There are certain people I do not mind running into, but those people are few and far between. So unless I see those people when I am out, I will be doing my best to avoid others. However, if you see me and talk to me, I will not be mean; I will talk to you, but do not expect it to be a long conversation like one would have with a friend. It will be short and sweet. So if you see me, and feel the need to talk, go ahead, but you will probably see the back of my head as I run in the opposite direction.

What Are You Up To These Days?

Maybe it is just me, but I feel as if I have been asked that question a lot lately. For some odd reason, I seem to be running into people who have the need to know this about me, and I hate answering. Not because I am ashamed that I do not have a job or that I am not in school, but because I know what most of them are probably thinking, or going to think when they hear it. They are going to judge me in some way, shape, or form, and I hate that. Yes, I do have a few part-time jobs, and I do all the errands for my mom, and believe it or not, I am happy and love where I am at in my life, but I also know people will still think of the fact that I do not have a full-time job or are in school. In other words, I am not doing anything productive or worthwhile.

Honestly, I do not care what they think or if they judge me, but at the same time, I do not want to sound like I am not being productive, like I do nothing. So, in order to sound like I actually have goals and do not want to be a bum, I tell them (after telling them that I am not really doing much of anything) that I am in the middle of applying to law schools. And their responses go from glum to peppy: "Oh" to "OH!" Then of course, that opens a whole new door that I would really prefer not to walk into, but have to since I opened it. I now have to answer all their questions about that. Where I am applying to, what kind of law, have I taken the LSATs yet, etc, etc. Thankfully, the conversation wanes after that and we are both off to continue whatever we were doing.

I may not really be up to anything or doing anything these days, and quite frankly, I love it and am happy. So judge me all you want and think whatever you want. I may hate it, but I do not really care. I do not have to answer or explain my self to anyone. I will keep doing what I am doing, and hopefully, next time I run into you, it will be when I am lawyer. In fact, next time, it might be across of a courtroom.

On Being A Jew

As I approached synagogue on Erev Yom Kippur, I saw a man standing outside the building, talking on his cell phone. I commented to my mother, "Look at that guy there. I'll bet he's a three-time-a-year Jew." (A three-times-a-year-Jew is a Jew who only goes to synagogue three time a year, on the holiest holidays.) Then it occurred to me: I am no better than him. Granted, I do not talk on my cell phone outside of synagogue; heck, I do not even bring my cell phone to synagogue, but I have become a three-time-a-year Jew. I realized it was the pot calling the kettle black.

As I sat in synagogue on Erev Yom Kippur and listened to my uncle sing Kol Nidre, I kept wondering about why I was there, sitting in synagogue, praying, fasting, asking G-d to forgive me of my sins, to inscribe me in the book of life. I wondered why I had to go and say the words in the book, why I had to sit there and listen to the prayers (as beautiful as some of them are), and I wondered what it meant if the words I said did not carry the same meaning for me as they did for me five or ten years ago.

I sat there, struggling with my inner self, my inner thoughts, trying to decide if I was a bad Jew. I no longer go to synagogue on a regular basis, in fact, I do not go at all except for holidays, if then. I eat out non-kosher dairy, and I keep Shabbos (sort of), but not to the extent others, more religious Jews, do, among other things. But does that make me a bad Jew? Better yet, is there such a thing as bad Jew?

I do what works for me, I do what I believe and what I believe in. It may not follow all the laws or traditions, but it is what I believe. Many will say that Judaism is not about doing what works for you or doing what you believe in; it is about doing and believing, plain and simple. And that's great. If those people have such great faith, such great belief, and the resolve to do it all, or even more than what I do, I commend them, I really do. It's not easy. Being a Jew has never been easy, and it was never meant to be.

Being a Jew is built on faith, and a lot of it. I no longer believe the way I used to; I no longer have the same amount of faith that I used to have. I do have it when it comes to certain things, but the rest I have been looking for that belief, that complete and utter faith, for some time now. Searching for the belief that I had when I was in grade school, high school even. It constantly eludes me. I still have faith, but it is not on the same level that I used to have it. And maybe I am not meant to find it. Maybe I am supposed to stay at this level of faith. Maybe, at this point in my life, I am where I am supposed to be, including in my beliefs.

Let's Be Friends

I was at the pool today with a friend, Abby, and two of my cousins, ages seven and almost two (Zoe and Ashley). Zoe went off to play while my friend and I stayed and played with Ashley. Not even a half hour after getting to the pool, Zoe runs up to me and asks me if she can go to the "big pool" to play with her friend, whom she had just met. After some questions about her friend and where they going, as well as letting her know where I would be, I let her go.

Over the three hours we spent at the pool, both Abby and I noticed that this was not the first friend Zoe made at the pool. She made at least three more friends in the time we were there. Abby kept commenting on how easily Zoe made friends, on how easily it is for (most) young kids to make friends, and I began thinking, when did we stop befriending people so easily, so quickly? At what age do we lose our ability to go up to people our age and just start talking to them? What changes? Obviously, we change, and grow up, and our social behavior changes as well. But when it stop becoming socially acceptable to go up to someone and befriend them?*


*I do not mean people who are or seem weird or creepy. I refer to normal people, like those who take their kids to the pool on a hot summer day.

"Good Shabbos, Good Yontif"

As most Jews know, when passing one another on a holiday or Shabbos, it is customary, and courteous to say "Good Shabbos" or "Good Yontif" depending on what it is. Occasionally, you may even say both. So why is it that no one says it anymore?

I'll be honest: This is a huge pet peeve of mine. About as big as pet peeve as people pushing an already lit elevator call button. (Seriously, it's already pushed, hence the light. Pushing it again will not make it come any faster.) Common courtesy, right? You pass someone on the street you recognize as a fellow Jew, you say "Good Shabbos" or "Good Yontif." Easy. Simple. Nice.

Apparently, not so easy, not so simple, and not so nice. This has been happening for years--the decline of the courteous greeting from fellow Jews. I've noticed it as the years have passed. Each year, each holiday, each Shabbos, less and less people say it. In fact, even less and less acknowledge you with a smile, or half smile. They just walk past you, as if you do not exist. (Except I'm taking up half of their sidewalk. So much for not existing as they have to move over for me, as I do for them.)

So what, you ask, was my breaking point? Well, I'm glad you asked. It was this past Rosh Hashanah. I was walking home in the afternoon from my aunt's house for a much needed break (seven kids, one house; that's all I need to say). As I'm walking down a fairly popular side street on my way home, luck would have it I pass three teenage girls in deep meaning conversation. (You remember those, when it was all about boys, school, and "Omg, your shoes are so cute!") Not only did they barely move over so I would not have to walk in the grass in order to get around them (I know, three of them, one of me, but there was still room to move over some), but they sent me a snobby, "We're better than you are" look, and ignored me. I, however, was giving them a half smile, and about to say "Good Yontif." Once I saw their looks and caught their attitude, I promptly shut it. I turned my chin up and kept walking. I just hope they caught the chin thing.

Needless to say, I seethed about this all the way home. Granted, it was three minutes more, but then I seethed for about another five minutes once I got home. After that, I was just mad. I kept turning over in my mind what could have led to this decline, this...rudeness. And that's exactly what it is: RUDE. No excuses, no defenses, nothing. Just plain rude.

As I was thinking about this in my seven minutes, I kept remembering all the men, women, and kids who have done the same in the past. Why? Is it because I'm not religious enough (though how they could tell I would not know)? Is it rudeness? Bad upbringing? (Yes, I am throwing that one out there.) Is it Jewish law or tradition? I could not figure it out. OK, so some men won't say anything to a woman at all. Fine. I can deal with that; I can respect it. But you can usually tell which men are those type and which are not (hint: they way they dress most of the time). Granted, not always can you tell, but sometimes you can. So, ok, some will say nothing for shomer reasons. But what about the others? The women, other men, and kids? Let's be honest: The women are just snobs, and they pass it on to their kids. These are the people who think they are better than you for whatever reason. Maybe it's as simple as they have no idea who you are, or they do not even recognize your face (names are secondary), so you are not worthy enough of a greeting. That attitude, intentional or not, is passed on to their children, especially if they do in front of their children. They also encourage this behavior by not encouraging or making their kids say such niceties to others. My mother did it in front of me, therefore, I do. Same with my friends. Is this a sign of what parenting has become? The decline it has taken with each generation? I am not sure. What I am sure of though, is that my mother, and her mother would never have tolerated such behavior from their children.

Be that as it may, my beef is not with the parents who are not encouraging to be courteous, it is with the people and Judaism. One of the most important things that I took away with me after twelve plus years of Jewish Day School is that Judaism is about respect. Respect your elders, respect your parents, respect other faiths. Respect. So, and please correct me if I am wrong, but isn't saying "Good Shabbos" or "Good Yontif" a sign of respect? And isn't not saying it, not only disrespect, but going against one of the fundamentals of Torah teaching? To me, what it boils down to is hypocrisy. People who claim, and do, follow the Torah, it's laws and teachings, and then turn around, and show complete and utter disrespect for fellow (wo)man.

Maybe next time I am walking down the street and see a group of Jewish girls approaching, I'll stick my chin up, not move over so they can get by, give them a look with attitude, and keep walking. Or maybe I'll comment on their cute shoes.

Reading the Newspaper

I am not an avid newspaper reader. In fact, I rarely read it. I'll read almost anything else, but not the paper. So what in the world provoked me to pick it up this past Saturday? That, I do not know. What I do know though, is picking up and reading the paper on Saturday only reaffirmed my beliefs.

As I flipped through the paper Saturday morning, still drowsy with sleep, I was confronted with headline after headline, photo after photo, article after article, of absolutely horrible things. There was of course, stories of our economy and our governments' inability to help. But then there was the article of Haiti. Do you know what's going on there? I am ashamed to say I had absolutely no idea. Apparently, Haiti is buried in mud. Yes, buried in mud. All the natural disasters that have hit them, mainly hurricanes, have turned the land and soil into mud, which, in effect, has left the people of Haiti scrounging for food. The UN is trying to raise money--about $54 Million--and has only raised $1 million so far.

There was coverage f the Presidential debates, which, while not outrightly bad, is when thought about. The debates only highlight what is wrong with our country--economy, healthcare, taxes, etc. Actually, there's about three or four articles covering the debates, most of them taking up at least one page.

So there's the U.S. economy, Haiti (which, btw, only takes up a corner of one page), a pregnant woman stabbed by an ex, who also shot and killed her boyfriend, and loads of other stories like those. All bad, sad stories. All stories that make you feel like shit, either because you feel helpless, as is the case with Haiti, or because it is just so awful. Either way, you end up feeling like shit.

As I'm flipping through the rest of the paper, I'm searching for some article that gives me good news. Something. Even an iota. Unfortunately, I did not find it. What I did find though, was the Obituaries. At first I thought, "Great. More bad news." Then I started thinking, in my hazy morning fog of thought, maybe, just maybe, this was was my good news that I was scouring the paper for. Now, I know how awful that sounds. People have died, and I am sitting there thinking that it's good news. I'm a horrible person. I know. But think about it: These people are dead. They no longer have to witness what the world has become. They no longer have to read the horrible, sad stories that I had just read, and tons more like them that will be printed in the future. They no longer have to see the suffering, the mess, that we and others have created and they no longer have to feel awful for not being able to do more. (I'm not going to go into how they might still be able to see, and feel the pain of the world, because that's not really what the post is about.)

So why in the world did I pick up the paper and read it? Or better yet, why did I continue to read it? I still cannot answer that. What I do know though, is that reading Saturday's paper just reaffirmed my desire, my need, to not read.

Omnia vincit Amor; et nos cedamus Amori

On my personalized Google homepage I have a box that shows me the "Love Quote of the Day." It's nice; I like it. Though it's not really daily. There's a new quote every time I refresh the page. But that's not my point. As I was scrolling down my Google homepage a few minutes ago, I looked at the "Love Quote of the Day" and saw that it said "Omnia vincit Amor; et nos cedamus Amori." Having no idea what it meant, I turned to my friend, Google, and pasted the phrase into the search box. Expecting to find translations of it, which I did, I was very surprised by the first hit. It was Sex-Lexis.com by Farlex, "The Dictionary of Sexual Terms."

Obviously, my first thought was, "What the heck?" Then I thought, "How, and why, is this the first hit that comes up on a romantic phrase?" Has society really come to this? Have we really become so low that the first hit for such a lovely, romantic phrase brings up a sextionary as the first link? Are we, as a society, really that focused on sex?

As I ponder this, I begin to think of commericials, ads, TV, and movies. Sex is everywhere. Everywhere. There is no escaping it. You turn a corner, there's sex. You watch TV, there's sex. You look at another pedestrian, and there's sex. So, is it really any surprise that the first hit is the sextionary? When thought about, no, there really is no surprise in it. At first glance though, yes. I don't really want to think that we are a society so seeped in sex that this happens. However, we apparently are.

(For those who are wondering, the phrase "Omnia vincit Amor; et nos cedamus Amori" means "Love conquers all; let us, too, surrender to love.")

How Well Do You Really Know Someone?

"Can you really know someone without ever having met them? Thousands of people, perhaps millions, might say yes. But is there really a simple, clearcut, straight-foward answer? No. If there were, I wouldn't be wondering about this. But, still I ask, is it possible to know, and yes, even fall in love with, someone that you've never laid eyes on? I believe it is possible. In fact, I think it's a great way to fall in love. That way you know that you are falling in love with the person and not his or her looks. However, then the question arises if the person is truly who they say they are, but that's another issue for another time.

Some people will say that part of knowing a person is being in their physical presence, seeing their gestures, facial expressions, posture, etc., and they're right. But who's to say that you can't fall in love first, and then meet? While there is no substitute for in-person interactions, no potential for truly knowing someone without such presence, it is possible. Of course, this doesn't stop people from trying, hoping, and believing. Certainly millions of 'normal' individuals seek and often find people to interact with via the Internet. But to know their soul, their deepest selves, you have to be able to look into their eyes, and that cannot be done without personal interaction.

Each case is different, and what works for one does not always work for another."

That is a draft from a post I wrote just over two years ago. I happened to find it because I was looking through my 'Drafts' thinking that I made one recently and wanting to finish it. The draft that I thought was there was not, but this was. I read it over, and surprisingly enough, I remember writing it (but not saving it). In fact, I even remember thinking about this as I wrote it, and before I wrote it too. After reading it now, I look back at it and think, "Boy, was I naive." Falling in love without ever having met the person? I don't think so. After being in two relationships (one serious, one not, but not in that order), I now realize how wrong I was. There is something to be said about being with the person, seeing him or her, interacting with him or her, and learning about that person through those interactions. You learn things you can never possibly learn without interaction and seeing each other. In fact, there's more than just "something" to be said for all that, there's tons to be said. However, I think if I have to actually say those things, than maybe I'm not the only one who was naive.

Common Courtesy

Common courtesy. A simple concept, one that most people learn at some point in their lives, usually when they're younger. But these days, it seems that less and less people know what common courtesy is. Some things that people don't do as common courtesy I can let slide, others I can't. For instance, holding a door open for someone. Now, this may not seem like a big deal to you, but when people constantly do it, or better yet don't do it to you on a daily basis more than once a day, it starts to get to you.

Or here's a better example: I work in a retail store, a small, sometimes struggling, family owned one. Christmas season is our busiest season (as it is for most retail stores), but with only two people working there on most days, things can get pretty harried. So anyway, last Christmas, one of our "good" (it's in quotation marks because it's a matter of opinion) customers calls about a week before Christmas and tells us she needs nine gifts, all under $150.00, AND she wants it's delivered by 4PM. It was 1:30PM when she called. Oh, not to mention she wasn't coming in to pick them out herself, but we had to do it for her. (If you don't think that isn't so bad, let me just add that my boss' 89 year old father was there whom we practically have to babysit, other customers are coming in and out, not to mention a bunch of other things going on, and it's just my boss and me there.) Anyway, we did it, and delivered it a half hour early.

Now, how many of you would have wanted to kill her after? Yeah, well, you'd have to get in line. But that's not my point. My point is, where is the courtesy to call us ahead of time, and not hours before, but days before when she wanted the items? OK, so she may not have been able to come down herself, I can totally understand that. But she can't call us a couple days in advance and tell us what she wants, or even one day in advance? I mean, is it so much to ask for? Does she think we have nothing to do there but sit around and wait for her call? No, we have tons of things to do, and other customers to take of.

That's just one story I could tell. I have many others, but I thought it illustrated my point best. If someone could tell me why people can't hold open the door for others, say thank you when they do, or have the decency to call back to say they don't want a job anymore, I'll be more than happy to listen. Until then, I guess the best I can do is make sure that my children are not those kind of people.

JLo and the Grain

Today my mom, brother, and I went up to Burlington Coat Factory, since both my brother and I needed new winter coats. So I went off on my own to look for a coat while my mom went with my brother. I ended up getting a JLo coat, which actually surprised me, mainly because I tend to go against the grain, and there I was, going with the grain. So I started thinking about that, about why I go against the grain and why others go with it. I realized that it's not so much that I go against it, it's that I buy what I like and if it happens that it's not "in" or "popular" well, so be it. Too bad for everyone else.

But why do people feel the need to go with the grain, be in the "in" crowd? Now, I'm not talking teenagers, I'm talking about pwoplw in their 20s and up. I'd think that by the time they reach their 20s they'd be secure enough in themselves to be themselves and buy what they like. But not everyone is. I don't pretend to know why they still feel the need to buy what is in style or what everyone else has, because I don't. I can speculate, but I really don't know. It's just that my whole JLo coat thing made me wonder. In the meantime though, I am still going to buy what I like, even if no one else is buying it.