What To Say

I have begun this post so many times in the past weeks, but I have either ended up deleting what I wrote, or I did not even know what to write or where to start. My thoughts and feelings are floating around in my head, all jumbled, and occasionally, if I am lucky, I can actually think something through and come to a (temporary) conclusion. A few days later though, I am back to where I started--confused, chaotic thoughts and feelings. 

I started writing this because usually putting my thoughts down into words helps me organize them, sort them and my feelings out, and maybe come to a conclusion. Or at least see other options, ones I may not have considered before. But this time, it does not seem to be working. I cannot seem to get anything down; I cannot even seem to organize anything just enough to put them into words. For once, I am at a complete loss here, and right now, more than ever, I need the outlet writing gives me. Yet, I cannot seem to find it. I have no idea what to say.

Routine

It's funny how your whole life can change in a day, yet your day to day routine can change very little with it. I completely uprooted myself, changed my life, where I live, and yet, my routine in the mornings and nights have stayed the same. I still go straight for the coffee pot when I get up in the morning, then take a shower, get dressed and ready, and proceed with my day. At night, I still stay holed up in my room (though now for different reasons), occasionally venturing out to watch TV and eat, and I still stay up late.

However, while my day to day morning and night routines have not changed, the rest of it has. Unlike college where a person goes to same classes multiple times a week, I only go to each of my classes once a week. Each day is a different class, different professor, different subject, and while that is routine for the week, it is not routine for every day, and for me, that is a good thing. Honestly, if I had to take the same classes multiple times a week, I think I would go nuts from the monotony of it.

Yet, each night after class, I do the same thing. I do my work, though I work on a different subject almost every night, I usually do spend the same nights week to week working on the same subject. And sometimes, I do spend more than one night on a subject. I do have somewhat of a routine here; I fell into one here the same way I fell into one back home. It is just a different one, and it varies a bit day to day, which is good for me since I hate doing the same thing day in and day out. Routine is nice, but variation is even nicer.

My New Beginning

I believe everyone deserves a new beginning in life, a fresh start, and as I write this, I am in the midst of mine.

I am sitting in my (fairly) new room, in Michigan, with my law school books spread out around me. I have been here for a month, and while I acclimated and adjusted well, I still have moments where I will look around and think, "This is my new life," and wonder how I got here. Never in a million years did I think I would go away for law school; I was never the type to just up and move away. I am still not that type. Yet, here I am, in my own apartment, going to law school, making new friends (but keeping the old), and truly being an adult. And it is everything I ever dreamed it would be (minus one thing--my boyfriend).

Yes, there is an insane amount of work to do; yes, it is extremely stressful; yes, I miss my family; yes, there are a lot of late nights and threats to drop out (my boyfriend can testify to that); and yes, sometimes I cannot fathom the thought that this will be my life for the next three years (in a bad way), but honestly, despite all of that, I love it. Ok, I do not love the amount of work (or the work itself always), but I love everything else about it.

I love class and learning about the law. I love being on my own, being fully responsible for myself. I love making new friends and hanging out with them. I love being able to go out and not having to tell anyone. I love not having to answer to anyone (except myself). I love it all.  This is my new beginning. 

They Come in Threes

There is a saying, "All good things come in threes." Others say that bad things come in threes. I would say that whether good or bad, major events tend to come in threes. In the span of one month, I will have had three major life events happen. The first one already has happened. My boyfriend left to go back to Israel. The next one, occurring in a week, will be my moving to a completely new city and state. Finally, the third will be starting law school.

Before any of them had even happened yet, I was fine. Since my boyfriend leaving was the first event, it hit me hard. I had a great deal of trouble adjusting to it, mainly because he was gone and I miss him terribly, but I also think that a little bit of what I was feeling was reality hitting me. As I said, before he left I was fine. Before he left, all three things were still in the future, about to happen. I knew they were coming, but they had yet to happen. None of it was real. Then my boyfriend left, and the first bit of reality hit me. He really did leave. Then it was real, and that made the next two events real as well. I really am moving. I really am starting law school. All it took was for one piece of reality to hit me, and the rest came crumbling down right after it.

I knew none of them would be easy for me. The first one certainly was not. In fact, by the time everything is over, the first one will probably have been the hardest of the three, with law school coming in as a close second. I do know though, that the next two are scary. I am not so scared of moving to a new city or state and truly being on my own for the first time; what I am scared of is law school-- the work load, the effort it will take, but mostly, whether or not I will be able to handle it, whether or not I will succeed. It is all coming threes, and sometimes, that is not a bad thing at all, but in my case, I just wish they would have spaced themselves out a little better.

The Need for....Change

Every so often in life, I get this urge to change something. Nothing big, just something to shake things up, make life a little different, a little exciting. It does not have to be something that I do to myself, but it has to shake my life up a little bit. It does not have to be anything major, either, but it has to be fairly substantial; nothing like going out and buying a new pair of shoes. It can be as simple as (another) piercing, cutting my hair, or buying a new mattress (which I did not do). But it has to be something.

Lately, I have been having this urge. I have this desire to do something, make my life a little more exciting, because you know, my life is not already exciting enough (with all the upcoming and past events, holidays, and moving). Really, I do have enough excitement in my life right now. There are (or were) the loads of Jewish holidays this month, next month I have two bridal showers (one of which I am helping to plan), a bachelorette party (which I am planning), a wedding, preparing to move, and some other things I am sure I am forgetting. So why in the world do I feel the need to bring some more excitement to my life? I do not have the time, energy, or patience for much else at the moment, yet, the desire is still there. And it is going to stay there. This is one time in my life I do not need any more change or excitement.

Around The Table

As I sat down to the dinner table at my aunt's house on Erev Rosh HaShana, I noticed how much it has changed in the past ten years, how much the seating arrangement and the people around it had changed. Yes, I know many things change in ten years, but I did not expect to see my role, the new teenager who recently started high school, played out by the oldest of my younger cousins, M. It never occurred to me that I would see myself in my younger cousin. Nor was I expecting to be placed in my older cousins' shoes.

Ten years ago, only one set of my older cousins had children (two daughters), and the other two sets of cousins were married, but no children (yet). Ten years ago, it was I who had just entered high school, I who did not want to be placed at the "children's table" (which essentially just consisted of myself and my younger brother), I who wanted so badly to sit and talk with my cousins like the adult I thought I was. It was I who was being asked about high school and what teachers I had, about the homework, classes, and books I had to read.

But as we sat down to begin our meal this year, I realized that it was not myself caught between childhood and adulthood, it was not I who had just entered high school and wanted to sit with adults in my family. I was already there. I was sitting at the table with the adults, talking to them as if I was one. M, my fourteen year old cousin, was in the role I used to play, and I was playing the role of the older cousin, the one she wanted to sit next to, to talk to, the one she looked up to. 

As she and I walked to my aunt's (her grandmother) house the next day from synagogue, talking like we never have before, I realized how nice it was to finally be at this point, to be able to talk to her more like the adult she is becoming, instead of the child she used to be. Then I thought to myself how nice it was that things were coming full circle, and that who knows, maybe in ten years, she will have the same revelations as I just did.

The Optimistic One

The essence of optimism is that it takes no account of the present, but it is a source of inspiration, of vitality and hope where others have resigned; it enables a man to hold his head high, to claim the future for himself and not to abandon it to his enemy. 

-Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Optimist: A man who is chased up a tree by a lion but enjoys the scenery anyway.

-Walter Winchell

A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty. 

-Winston Churchill

I am the optimist in my family. My mom, my brother, and even my father, are pessimists. My aunt, my boss, and best friend are pessimists as well. I am surrounded by negativity on a fairly constant basis. Sometimes it amazes me that I am so optimistic. But I am. And I thank G-d for that. It enables me to see the bright side in just about anything and everything. Even in the smallest, most trivial situations, I see the bright side, while most everyone else I know is focusing on the negative. 

Sometimes I honestly do not understand how people can look at the world, the people around them, and especially themselves in such a negative way. To me, there is always a positive. It is not easy hearing their negative remarks either, about others, themselves, or anything, and it eventually gets to me. It frustrates me, sometimes quite a bit. There are times where I simply cannot stand to hear it and have to walk away before I say something hurtful to them about it. And there is only so much I can say to them, so much I can do, and only so many times I can try to put a positive spin on things, before I just give up. 

I know I cannot change the way they think; only they can do that, and they have to want to do it. But, for those out there wondering why being an optimist is so great (other than the fact that looking at the world in a brighter light just makes things better and easier), here are a few reasons to be one: better health, longer lives, less stress, persistence (we do not give up easily), and better emotional health. Those sound like some positive outcomes, right? Now if I could just get my family and friends to see the bright side of this...

Autographs

The other day my mom told me that my aunt found my grandmother's "Autograph" book. Later at home, I got the chance to look at it. It is a book from my grandmother's grammar school days, with "autographs" on each page. It is almost like a yearbook, but without pictures. Actually, without anything from a yearbook except for the last few pages that classmates scribble all over, signing them and writing messages. Each of her friends signed a page, mostly writing a poem or something witty. I am not sure if what they wrote is original or taken from elsewhere, but I copied the ones I liked.



Here today, gone tomorrow,
So do many joys depart.
But the gladness of your friendship, 
Lives forever in my heart. 




You asked me to write, 
What shall it be?
Three little words, 
"Think of me"




May your life be as bright as Broadway at night, 
As smooth as a Rolls Royce without flat tires. 




Isn't love a funny thing?
It's somewhat like a toy
If you want your heart broken, 
Just give it to any boy. 




When you have the children, 
One, two, three
Name the tallest one
For me. 




May your life be like a deck of cards,
When you're in love, hearts.
When you're engaged, diamonds. 
When you're married, clubs.
When you're dead, spades.




When twilight draws it's curtains,
And pins them with a star,
I hope you will remember me, 
Although I may be far. 



A ring is round and has no end, 
And so is my love for you, dear friend




In your chain of friends
Consider me a link, 
But not a missing one.



I wish you Dempsey health, 
Rockefellers' wealth, and
Shakespeare knowledge. 




If you see a cat in a tree,
pull it's tail and think of me. 




As the ripples flow, 
the ship at sea may roll. 



I write here not for beauty, 
I write her not for fame, 
I write to be remembered,
So here I sign my name. 




I wish you wealth, 
I wish you health, 
I wish you Rockefellers' gelt. 




Health to make you happy, 
Wealth to make you blest, 
That is what I wish you, 
Leave to G-d the rest. 




I thought, 
I thought, 
I thought in vain, 
Now I've decided to write my name. 




Roses are red, 
Shoes are tan, 
Bananas are yellow, 
And so's your old man. 



Sugar is sugar
And salt is salt
If you don't get a sheik, 
It's your own damn fault. 




Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust,
If the bughouse don't get you, 
Then Hyman must. 




Look into the future,
Remember the past, 
Remember the fun, 
Remember the fun in Mrs. Wilson's class. 




Leaves may wither, 
Roses may die, 
Friends may forsake, 
But never will I. 



Friendship is a golden chain, 
That binds two friends together, 
And if you do not break this chain, 
We'll be two friends forever. 




There is a golden chain, 
That binds two hearts together, 
If you will never break this chain, 
We will be friends forever.




When you are in the parlor, 
And your man is by your side, 
Be careful when you kiss him, 
For his mustache may be dyed.




When you are married and have twins, 
Remember me for the safety pins. 




May your life be like an arithmetic:
Love added,
Sorrows subtracted,
Friends multiplied, 
Joys undivided. 




When day is done, 
And shadows creep,
Think of me, 
When you go to sleep.



Yours Till
(I am not sure what these mean, or if they have any meaning, but on some of the autograph pages, people wrote a "Yours Till" before signing their name. Below are all of them.)

Yours till I can quit talking.


Yours till the Statue of Liberty has twins.


Yours till angels play jazz.


Yours till misers part with their money.


Yours till the kitchen sinks.


Yours till the Eskimos wear evening gowns.


Yours till angel play St. Louis Blues.


Yours till fathers give their sons good allowances.


Yours until we walk our heads.

Therapeutic Blogging

When I first started my blog about four years ago, I did because I loved writing (and still do) and wanted a place to write whatever I wanted without being censored. It also allowed me to pass the time and make myself think, make my brain work, instead of just being numb from boredom. I also liked it because it was fairly unknown to the world and most people did not have one. (I am weird like that; I like having new, interesting things most people do not have or know about yet.) It became my hobby. I wrote whatever I wanted, whatever came to mind. It was great; I loved it.

In the last year to year and a half though, my blog has been more than just a blog. I no longer write random musings, thoughts, etc. I write as an outlet. It allows me to sort through my thoughts, get them down, organize them, and then go back later to look it over and think about it some more. It allows me to work through whatever it is that needs to be, whatever it is that is on my mind or bothering me. In a way, it is like therapy. And the best part about it: it's free.

Imagine Me and You

"Me and you and you and me, 

No matter how they toss the dice, it has to be

The only one for me is you, and you for me

So happy together...."

-"Happy Together," The Turtles

You date someone. Things are going well, very well, you know where it is headed. You love him (or her), and you know he (or she) loves you, and a picture begins to form: The two of you, together, married, with children, jobs, a house. You picture your life together, and you see it all. 

Then, it is over. No longer is there "the two of us." Your lives are now separate, no longer so intertwined, no longer dependent on the other. But the picture you had of your life together? That is still there. You still see it sometimes, especially in the beginning. It is like a movie that keeps repeating in your head; sometimes it is just one scene, other times, it is many. But as time goes on, the movie fades, and you are just left with a scene or two. It is those few that play in your head occasionally long after the relationship is over, after you both have moved on.

I mention this because I did this; I do this. Still. I still sometimes get those short scenes in my head, imagining a future that I know is no longer possible, a future I that I have let go. It is not something I want to picture anymore. It makes me feel like I am clinging to the past, like I am wishing and hoping for something that I know will never happen. Yet, sometimes I cannot help it. They are just there, at random moments, playing in my head. Like an old, sentimental movie that I just cannot seem to say goodbye to, but know I have to.

Trusting Myself

When I'm trusting and being myself... everything in my life reflects this by falling into place easily, often miraculously.  -Shatki Gawain

 

I learned you have to trust yourself, be what you are, and do what you ought to do the way you should do it. You have got to discover you, what you do, and trust it. -Barbra Streisand

I have always trusted myself and trusted my gut. I learned to do that a long time ago. But over the last few months I admit that I had a hard time doing so. It was not that I did not know what my gut was telling me, what I knew to be right, but I hard time doing it. I was torn, about everything, being pulled in all sorts of directions, one part of myself telling me one thing while another part told me something else. But inside, somewhere, I knew all the right answers, I knew what had to be done, in every aspect of my life that I was unsure about. It was just trusting myself that I could do it, and that I was doing what was right, that was difficult for me.

But I did it, all of it. I trusted myself, and everything turned out well. Better than I anticipated, actually. Knowing that I was making the right choices helped tremendously, even if they were hard decisions to make. I learned to trust myself again by being honest with myself about everything--what I was truly feeling, what I truly wanted, and what I knew to be right. Things are finally back on track in my life, and that is because I trusted myself.

Snow Days

The first fall of snow is not only an event, it is a magical event.  You go to bed in one kind of a world and wake up in another quite different, and if this is not enchantment then where is it to be found?  ~J.B. Priestley

Remember when we were younger and we could not wait for snow days? Waking up in the morning, seeing all the white on the ground and the white that continued to fall in thick, heavy flakes, and praying to G-d that at some point in the next hour, you would hear the beautiful words, "School is canceled today" And when you finally heard the news, you would heave a huge sigh of relief. No school, playing outside in the snow for hours on end, watching tv during the day, and hot cocoa with marshmallows. Was there a better way to spend the day? 

I remember those days, maybe not all that well, but I still remember them. Where I live though, we rarely get snow days. We are the Midwest, we know how to handle snow (unlike some other states and cities that cancel everything when they get an inch of snow). Heck, it is normal for us to be covered in inches of snow throughout winter. Nowadays though, I no longer pray for snow days; I pray for days without snow, or at least a minimal amount. 

Yet, despite my hatred of snow (and slush and ice), I absolutely love the first snowfall of winter. The first time the snow falls, I just stand by the window and look outside, taking it in and wondering at the beauty of it. There is just something so beautiful about it, and not just when it falls, but when it covers everything and I look outside and it is all white. There is just something so beautiful, so magical about it. 

A week later though, I am ready for spring and some warm weather.

Everything Happens For A Reason

I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be. -Douglas Adams

For those that do not know me, and even for those who do, I am a big believer in everything happening for a reason. I may not always know the reason, but I believe that it was meant to happen. The reason I bring this up is that, one night last week my friend asked me if I was happy. I thought about it for a few seconds and replied, "Yes and no."

Let me begin with the "no" answer. I cannot say that I am unhappy, for I am not. However, considering that this is not where I wanted to be at this time in my life, a year and a half after graduating college, yes, in a way, I am unhappy, but only in the sense of how everything turned out. Things did not go as I had planned. If I had known that this is where I would have ended up now, I would not have set my hopes so high, and it would have made the transition from college to the real world easier. It would have made realizing that my dreams might not happen, or might not happen the way I wanted them to happen, easier.

But yes, I am happy with my life as it is, despite how things ended up. No, I did not end up where I wanted to be at this time in my life, but I do believe I am where I am supposed to be. I believe that I was supposed to end up here-- unemployed, living at home, trying a number of times to succeed on the LSATs and get into law school, and single. Of this I have no doubt. I am where I am supposed to be.

I believe that everything happens for a reason, including all of this. I may not know all, or any of the reasons, but I do not need to know them. All I need to know is that this is where I am in my life and this is where I was supposed to end up, and that I am who I am because of it. And I am happy, very happy.

Reflections

 "One year will change a life forever."

As we rang in the New Year, and a new decade, last week, I read and heard many people wondering where they were and what they were doing ten years ago when we rang in the new millennium. As I sat and listened to them, or read what they wrote, I asked myself the same question. Where was I, at that very moment, ten years ago? Well, the boring answer is I was babysitting, while my cousins went out and partied in the New Year. I had just turned fourteen, in eighth grade, six months away from graduating. I was young. I was very young, innocent, and naive. I had dreams and aspirations; dreams I never thought could be deterred in any way, and aspirations I thought I would reach.

Now it is ten years later. I am twenty-four. I am no longer (as) young, and definitely no longer innocent and naive. I still have those dreams and aspirations I had back then, but these days they include the real world, reality, and everything in between, everything that could, and does, get in the way. I have a Bachelor's degree that gets me no where, no job, and loans to pay off. More than anything else though, I have no idea in what direction my life is headed. Ten years ago, I had it mapped out to a "T."

Then I thought about where I was last year, how I celebrated New Years then. As I recalled, I remembered that when I rang in 2009 last year, I had everything mapped out then as well. Granted, there had been some bends in the road, but for the most part, I knew where I was headed. My life was on track, going in the right direction, the direction I wanted. I had a job, I was working on getting into law school, I had a great relationship (that I thought I knew where it was headed), and great family and friends. Things were going well. Now, it is a year later, and nothing has gone the way I planned. At all. Almost everything has changed.

I realized then that a life can change greatly in ten years, and is expected to change greatly in that time span. After all, ten years is a long time. But a year can be a long time, too. Life can change just as much in one year as it can in ten. Mine did, and it taught me to expect the unexpected, that I can plan all I want, but that G-d might be laughing at me for planning. I have learned to do my best, try my hardest, and not give up, but I have also learned to take things as they come. So, here's to a 2010 that will bring the unexpected, inspiration, change for the better, and the realization of childhood dreams.

Instant Gratification

We want it, and we want it now. This instant. It does not matter what it is, we want it now. Instant everything. Instant messages, email, fax, internet. Instant food, the faster the better. Instant education, job, wealth. Instant medical service, diagnoses, and an instant cure. Instant family. Instant travel. Instant information. Instant banking. Instant, instant, instant.

Instant gratification. The need to want something right now, instead of waiting. No longer do we want to wait and see the benefits of hard work, or let life happen and the pieces fall where they may. We, as a society, are impatient, very impatient. We cannot wait for anything. If we expect something, we expect it now. We want things done now, regardless of the circumstances of the situation.

Our society has become one that has drifted towards an expectation of instant gratification. it is everywhere in our society, in places we do not even realize it exists. Instead of sitting down and enjoying a meal, we have drive-thru's. We check everything online, sometimes obsessively. And if that is not enough, we have the internet to tell us everything we want to know at the drop of a hat, instead of working towards finding the answers to our questions. (Books anyone?) In fact, when was the last time you actually picked up a real dictionary? If you are anything like me, it has probably been awhile, a long while. Why go get the dictionary, thumb through it, find the word, and read it, when we can just Google it, or go to one of the many online dictionaries, look it up, and get it instantly?

We want it all at our fingertips, without waiting. We don't have the time to wait. But that is exactly what life is about: waiting. We are always waiting for something. Half of the joy in life is the waiting. So instead of wishing for something to happen now, in this instant, sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. It might just be worth the wait.

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.

Listen to the Rain

As I was listening to the rain outside my bedroom window tonight, I thought of this poem. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Listen to the Rain

Listen to the rain,
the whisper of the rain,
the slow soft sprinkle,
the drip-drop tinkle,
the first wet whisper of the rain.

Listen to the rain,
the singing of the rain,
the tiptoe pitter-patter,
the splish and splash and splatter,
the steady sound of the rain.

Listen to the rain,
the roaring pouring rain,
the hurly-burly topsy-turvy
lashing gnashing teeth of rain,
the lightning-flashing
thunder-crashing
sounding pounding roaring rain,
leaving all outdoors a muddle,
a mishy mushy muddle puddle.

Listen to the quietude,
the silence and the solitude of after-rain,
the dripping, dripping, dropping,
the slowly, slowly stopping,
the fresh wet silent after-time of rain.

~Bill Martin Jr. and John Archambault

The Pot Calling the Kettle Black

Last night I was having a conversation with a friend who is in a relationship with a girl, but they each know that it is short term. They know that it will eventually come to an end, and not in a year or so, but rather in a matter of months. I asked, bluntly, "If you know this is going to end soon, then why are you putting yourselves through this?"

As the words came out of my mouth, I realized that I sounded like a hypocrite. A big one. How can I ask him that question when I am doing the same thing with my boyfriend? He's leaving for Israel in July, at which time we will probably break up. Yet, here I am, knowing the end is drawing near, knowing that when this does happen that I am going to heartbroken, and I am still with him.

Many people have asked me over the last three or four months why I have not broken up with him already, knowing that he is leaving. The only answer I have for them is that I cannot. I cannot let go yet; I am not ready to let go. But I do know the longer I am with him, the more attached and involved I am getting, and because of that, it will only hurt me more in the end.

So as I asked my friend why they were doing to themselves and to each other, I knew why, and I felt like a hypocrite for even asking. They care about each other, and have fun together, and are obviously not ready to let go yet. And that I can totally understand.

"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.

Colors

It seems like they are infinite, and as I look around my room, I see tons of them. But when I think about it, and remember my elementary science, the thousands colors I see come from three primary colors (or really, for those science people out there, the three color receptors the eye can perceive). Yes, the infinite, or seemingly infinite, colors I see, are based on only three colors. Amazing, isn't it?

Well, that got me thinking (but really, what doesn't?). Most everything is based on something, and it only takes ONE thing for thousands of others to take off from it, to base themselves on it. And not only that, but everything builds on something. Take, for instance, computers. The greater and better technology became, the greater and better computers did. But first, someone had to invent/discover that ONE thing that made it all possible.

Here's another example, possibly the best example I, or anyone, can think of. G-d and humans. We came from G-d. He made us. In fact, we are in His image. Now, as you all know I'm sure, there was no precedent, no one person or thing for G-d to base His work on. There was just G-d. He was the first, and the last really. Every thing I do is because of Him. And every color I see is because of Him too. He set the precedent, and we are just following in His footsteps.