Linkage

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Good writing. Relevant subject. Try not to scare her with your strange blogger ways.

It's Time

Time for me to be honest.

With myself.

My friends,

Mashpia.

You.

You, the reader.

You, the mysterious unknown audience,

You, the ones whose numbers are saved in my phone.

I think I've reached a certain point in my life here.

Either I write about what I'm really thinking or I don't write.

But here's the deal:

Don't ask questions when I write mysterious statements.

Don't give me a hug the next time you see me (unless that's our normal manner of greeting).

Even when you think I need one.

I'm going to pretend that I am talking to myself, the way I do when I'm walking down the street and freaking out.

And you and all your comments?

That's just me talking back to myself.

Bsd

I think my Pandora is reading my mind, my mood.

Music that screams when I need to scream, cries when I need to cry, soars when I need to soar.

Nothing like having a soundtrack to your life, underscoring the moments you want to remember forever, the moments you'll forget never.

Now - angry and sad, scared and mad, I want to jump the cliff, jump the shark, laugh at how crazy it's all gotten, and thank G-d in my quiet moments for what I know I have, for the treasure hidden in the X-marked spot in my own room, my own heart, my own life.

First Day of School Checklist

Bsd

Wake up at the painfully early hour of 6 AM - Check.

Decide to wear my purple dress for luck and love - Check.

Wait for Albany Bakery to open their doors so I can buy breakfast - Check.

Korbanos on the train - Check.

Receive schedule - Check.

Meet Stephanie, who also doesn't have any books - Check.

Go to the subbasement to buy uniform shirt, massage oil, books - Check.

Wait on line for twenty minutes - Check.

Meet Lana and Helmy (who introduced herself as Helmy, named after her Estonian great-grandmother, who was an alchoholic) - Check.

Discover that Lana and I are in the same class, and decide to be late together - Check.

Spend 42 dollars on school supplies - Check.

Change into my tznius version of the school uniform ( school tshirt, black shirt, black short skirt, black leggings) - Check.

Make it to class - Check.

Listen to two hour lecture; need the restroom desperately by the end of it - Check.

Take the stairs to the library to make copies; meet Dani, Librarian Extraordinaire and Savior of My Sanity and Money - Check.

Stuff half an eggsalad sandwich in my mouth in the last five minutes of break - Check.

Watch demonstration - Check.

Partner up with Lana (as in Svetlana, not Lang), who happens to be from Russia via Israel - Check.

Receive 20 minute massage; finally relax - Check.

Give 20 minute massage - Check.

Realize that my table had been one leg higher the entire time - Check.

Change back to street clothes - Check.

Meet Jen and Katie, both fellow Brooklynites - Check.

Leave school - Check.

The End.

Unless you want to hear about how I did my reading at work while my kiddie slept away. Which if you do, means you are really desperate for details of my life. If you're THAT desperate, just call me.

It Smells Like Pee, And Other Stories of Chai Elul

Bsd

Yud Zayin/Chai Elul is my parents' wedding anniversary (27 years!), which is why I spent twenty minutes at Rabbi (Chaim, Mr. Gutnick Chumash) Miller's farbrengen with my phone plastered to my ear, listening to a calm voiced woman interrupt the beauteous Muzac to inform me that, "Your host has not yet joined the conference.".

When you live 3,000 miles away from your parents, you celebrate their anniversary by giving them a phone call. The Welton family has achieved an even higher level of sophistication - we give my parents a celebratory conference call. Whew, baby.

So, four kids, two parents, shouldn't be too hard to get us all on the phone at the same time, right?

Wrong.

Let's just say I'm grateful I have a small family.

On the less sarcastic side, we accomplished our goal. Anniversary call completed, I focused my full attention on the farbrengen.

It was worthy of full attention.

Best farbrengen I've been at since Rabbi Korn, and I LOVE Rabbi Korn's farbrengens.

I knew it was going to be good from the first glimpse I caught as I popped my head through the open doorway, confirming that the farbrengen was indeed where I thought it was. Crammed full of girls, the air in the room was heavy with heat - both literally and metaphysically.

I sat quietly, as I usually do at farbrengens. (Well, not entirely quietly. But any comments were directed at my friend Raizy (shout out to Raizy!), not the room at large).

Rabbi Miller was exactly what I have determined a good farbrenger should be - smart, passionate, funny, but most importantly, he let the girls lead him to what they wanted to talk about without getting lost in the shrillness of their arguments.

We wandered from topic to topic for a bit. A little bit about whether the system is flawed or not, whether mechanchim are given enough respect, whether Lubavitchers are afraid of their emotions (Consensus: Yes.).

A practical, if sometimes self-admittedly grouchy, man, Rabbi Miller decided we should all meditate on five emotional points during davening, and I will present them to you in their abbreviated form and let you all figure out how they'll apply:

1. Gratitude

2. Awe

3. Purpose

4. Joy

5. Hope/Yearning

(Sidenote: Maybe I am starting to get over my seminary hangup...)

So that was last night.

How did I celebrate Chai Elul today?

Well, I said Brachos and as I sped through them at my usual sub-vocal speed, the Big Five streamed through my head.

Then I tried to screw a handle on my dresser, and wished that the men in my life were more available to me.

In the middle of that, one of the men in my life (my older brother, geez) called and asked me to walk with him to Bank of America.

I live on Union and Albany. The bank is on Kingston and Eastern Parkway.

It took 45 minutes.

Damn, black people can dance!

After that, I went to my friend's house (Shout out to D.L.!) to do laundry, and did driveway guard duty for an hour and a half.

What is driveway guard duty?

That is when you sit in your driveway so no one will come and pee in it.

Which leads me to my walk home, late at night and in the dark.

It smells like pee in all the corners of Crown Heights.

Happy Labor Day.

Gut Yom Tov.

(I have to wake up at 6 AM tomorrow. The summer is officially over!)

Elul Times

Bsd

I've talked so much today that my teeth are sore, my mouth is dry, my throat is still pulsing with the energy of my words, and my hands hold tight the memory of their frantic movement.

New is the word of the month.

New year, new school, new roommates.

New relationship with my brother.

New me?

Only it's not a new me, it's the old me, the me I've been trying to be for so long now I couldn't remember who that was.

Only it's a better me, tempered by the failures of this year, strengthened by the hard-won successes.

Ksiva vchasima tova, people.