Happy Thanksgivukkah!

The great thing about this cartoon is that it reminds me of the people 

that drive around with the chanukiyah (menorah) on top of their cars!

On this most holy of days, two deliciously gluttonous holidays merge into one. Yes, even in Israel there are those of us who are celebrating Thanksgiving and Chanukah, with the latter being normative and the former being, well, odd considering it's the commemoration of a fake narrative of something that didn't really happen in America. 

But old habits die hard, and my darling English husband is willing to indulge those of us who jones for the classics. However, we are holding off to make our Thanksgivukkah a Shabbat experience, and we're pot-lucking with friends at our place with the turkey and all the fixins (don't worry, our kitchen is still vegetarian, we're getting creative to make this happen). 

On the menu? 

Turkey (a la Rebacks)

Streuseled Sweet Potato Casserole (Me)

Gluten-Free Green Bean Casserole (Me)*

Portobella Mushroom Rice (Rebacks)

Gravy (Rebacks)

Cranberry Sauce (Rebacks)

Latkes (Me, maybe ...)

Sufganiyot (store-bought, of course)

Raw Pumpkin Chai Spice Pie Bars (Me)

Quite the meal, no? And the awesomeness that is Mel will also be joining us with husband in tow providing our paper goods and all that goodness since our dishes are dairy and the meal is (obviously) meaty. 

I anticipate Shabbat lunch being quite the low-key affair (some kind of salmon dish and lots of salads). I also anticipate being comatose most of Saturday and Sunday as a result of the festivities. Baby hasn't left much room for food these days, unfortunately. What's a soon-to-be mama to do? Eat very slowly ... and scarf the leftovers!

Also: Tonight I'm celebrating Thanksgiving the way it was always meant to be celebrated ... with American football! Yes, Israel has its own American football league, called the IFL, and the coach of the illustrious Judean Rebels is none other than the husband (Coach!) of blogger Ruti. So tonight, it's all about the Chanukah Bowl. 

What's on your menu for Thanksgiving and/or Chanukah? Any special or unique traditions that your family absolutely abides by? 

*Green bean casserole has always been a standard in my family, and Thanksgiving simply isn't Thanksgiving without it. However, the days of canned cream of mushroom soup, French's fried onions, and frozen green beans are over for me, as it's all lacking in "gluten free" and non-dairy categories. So I've made my own homemade mushroom gravy, will be attempting some gluten-free "fried" onions (majorly modifying this one), and mixing it all up in the hopes that it comes out tasting like awesome. Stay tuned! 

Book Review: Getting Kvetchy at Hanukkah

I am what you might call a bibliophile. I love books, I love collecting them, I lament having to part with them (which I did with so many during my divorce and aliyah to Israel), and when I look at our bookshelves at home there are a lot of seforim, but those belong to my dear husband Mr. T. I'm not about to start hoarding books again just to have a fine balance between his and hers, but it is nice getting new books, reviewing books, and finding new authors to kvell over.

Recently Mr. T was in Jerusalem with a friend of his looking for benschers (the little books that Jews use before and after meals and on Shabbat that have songs and the prayers over food and drink) at M. Pomeranz Bookseller, a staple store owned by a couple that made aliyah to Israel more than 20 years ago. 

While there, Mr. T spotted a book: The KvetchiT: A Hanukkah Tale by Larry Butchins. He absolutely had to have it for me because I am, after all, the Kvetching Editor. Surprise surprise he brought it home and I sat reading it last night.

The premise is cute, and it makes me wonder who comes up with these things (but in a good, not judgey way, of course). The story is narrated by a grandfather figure named Samuel who starts with the historic dilemma of the people at the rededication of the temple. The people are kvetching and kvetching that they don't have any oil, and although the common miracle we hear of is the oil lasting for eight nights, the miracle we don't hear of is the creation of the the KvetchiT -- a fuzzy, little three-eyed creature who feeds on kvetches. But once the kvetching over the oil stops, the KvetchiT is at a loss because he needs the kvetches to survive. He hides away in a cave and falls fast asleep.

The story zips ahead hundreds of years when a boy named Samuel finds him (does the name ring a bell?) and hears the story and agrees to help record the 20 greatest kvetches for the KvetchiT to live on. The story brings us back to the present where one of Samuel's grandchildren receives a unique gift of family tradition (and kvetching).

It definitely takes kvetching to a unique, new level of cuteness, and the illustrations are very traditional in the style of "religious" Jewish books, but not aggressively so (don't worry, you won't find the mom in a full-body coverup). I'm just bummed that the 20 greatest kvetches collected in the story are only available on cassette. Who has a cassette player?! Not this chick. I eagerly await their release in MP3 or CD format.

You can buy the book from Pomeranz for pennies, folks, and this would make a very cute gift for a child or a particularly kvetchy adult.

Do you have a favorite children's Chanukah book? A particularly excellent kvetch that you think the kvetch could live FOREVER on? With a wee one on the way, I'm eager to start collecting gobs of children's books!

Note: The book reviews I'm doing for Pomeranz are honest, as all of my product and book reviews are, but the books are being given to me at no cost for review. 

Israel and My First Sukkah

I'm sitting in my favorite Jerusalem coffee shop because our wifi in the new apartment isn't working and I am a "work from home" desk jockey, and right before my eyes, arising out of nowhere, is a sukkah! (And it's coffee themed, no less.)

Yes, the beautiful thing about living in a Jewish community is that all of your favorite restaurants throw up sukkot -- or booths, huts, shanties -- for the weeklong holiday where we're commanded to eat, drink, and be merry all outside in the sukkah. The great thing about living in Israel is that this is basically happening everywhere. Why? It's a mitzvah to eat in the sukkah! So if you're the kind of establishment that wants Jews of every flavor and religious leaning to show up during the holiday, you put up a sukkah.

Note: The sukkah is meant to be reminiscent of the temporary huts the Israelites were forced to dwell in during their 40 years wandering in the desert. It's also one of the Three Holidays that the Israelites/Jews would pilgrimage into Jerusalem to the Temple. Oddly enough, according to the prophet Zecheriah, in Messianic times, all nations of the world will celebrate Sukkot and pilgrimage to Jerusalem to celebrate. So to my non-Jewish readers: Brush up on your sukkah knowledge now! You never know when Mashiach will show up and you'll have to set up your own sukkah.

It might be hard to believe, but after "doing Jewish" for around 10 years now, I've never had my very own shiny, sparkly, law-abiding Sukkah. Despite a Reform conversion in 2006 and an Orthodox conversion in 2010, my sukkah experience has been relegated largely to community huts and those of close friends -- not to mention Sukkah City 2010, which was quite the experience.

One year my ex-husband attempted to install a sukkah on his deck, but he got flack from the neighborhood association and it fell down before we could even use it. I have experience with one-person pop-up sukkahs, large community sukkahs (including one that fell down around me), and sukkahs built in backyards, front yards, and everywhere in between.

But never have I built or decorated or dwelled for even a moment in my very own Sukkah! So this year, folks, this year is the year! It's the year of My First Sukkah. It's also the first year that I only have to observe one official "holiday" day at the beginning and end of the weeklong holiday. (In Israel, most of the Jewish festivals are only observed for one day, because theoretically we're close enough to Jerusalem know the calendar. Outside of Israel, most holidays are two days, because the idea is that Jews in the Diaspora would have to wait to hear when holidays began/ended. Yes, we have the internet and calendars, but this is just how we roll.)

With the holiday just a few days away, however, I'm left with a bit of panic: Where do I buy decorations? Do I even want to buy decorations? Should I create a theme that will create a tradition in our family? Should I go minimalist? Ahhhh! Plastic fruit: yay or nay? Cheesy posters of the patriarchs (who we invite in like visitors, because it's a huge mitzvah to invite people into your sukkah)?

The benefit of never having a sukkah of my own was that I never had to decorate it. May this be the worst of my problems this year, right?

Luckily, for us, our sukkah in the new apartment is up year round. According to the laws of sukkah, we're covered by the fact that there are two cement walls attached to the apartment where there is a glass sliding door, plus the rails on the fourth side of the balcony (with a beautiful view, I might add). We're borrowing the "roof" (called a skach in Hebrew) from our new landlord, and we recently picked up some plastic chairs that are currently serving as our dining room chairs (we're classy, and not rolling in money). As far as the basics, we're set.

As of now, the only "decoration" I have is a printed out and laminated infographic on Sukkot. I could run with the theme and just go nuts printing out and laminating infographics on the holiday, but that might be a little wonky and once Little Z is less fetus and more small child making cute pictures in school, I don't know how well they'll match. (Here's a thought: Teach Little Z about infographics in-utero!)

Decorations or not, I'm just blessed to live in a country where on every corner, on every balcony, in every little nook and cranny in this country, I'll be privy to sukkot of all shapes, sizes, and colors.

Do you have a theme for your sukkah? If you don't have your own sukkah (yet), what would be your theme of choice? 

Sukkot: The Ushpizin Infographic

Absolutely loving this infographic. Hopefully, you'll be able to find it in my sukkah!

The Sensory Christmas

No Chinese food, no movie. But I was at Google Tel Aviv!

For the first time in my life, I wasn't in the United States for Christmas.

Yes, I know, I'm Jewish, who cares, it's Christmas. But when you spend your entire life in a Midwestern classic Christmas setting, there are aspects that surround the holiday that are so normative -- they're like breathing. The lights, the sounds, the smells, the tastes. They're all simply a part of my life. My genetics are bound to crave the smell of fireplaces, the site of lined and beaded lights, the taste of warm apple cider and holiday cookies.

I'll be Jewish for the rest of my life, but there will always be certain pangs of sadness at this time of year. And I don't feel guilty about it because the way I grew up, Christmas was about trees and presents and food and visiting Silver Dollar City* (where, for years, my aunt and grandmother worked) and dipping candles and eating s'mores. It was about driving around as a family looking at the city bedecked in holiday lights. It was presents, snow, and the knowledge that this is what everyone everywhere just does.

But?

I was in Tel Aviv last night at the Google Tel Aviv Campus for an event (which was awesome), and on my way back I hopped the Jerusalem light rail for a few stops and got off at Mahane Yehuda (that's the shuk, the giant outdoor market). At that hour, the shuk was quiet and filled with cars and trucks dropping off or picking up late-night deliveries. A few shops were still open and closing, and a few people were using the walkway as a quick bypass to get from Agrippas to Yafo.

About halfway through the shuk, I experienced something beautiful. I closed my eyes, breathed in, and the corners of my mouth curled up in a smile. I was transported to Silver Dollar City, the smell of cookies and s'mores, constantly kindled fires, fresh wax from candle dipping, and the crisp, cold air. For probably 10 seconds, I got my piece of childhood, my piece of December in the United States, in the Ozarks.

More and more, I understand the role HaShem plays in our everyday lives. The things we don't realize but experience in fleeting moments of absolute awareness with all of our senses. Those are the moments when HaShem reaches down to provide us a comfort that we might not even know we need. It was a gift. A 10-second gift.

I think it will get me through until next year. In fact, I know it will.

To read some past posts on my Christmas-time experience ... check out these posts from 2009 and 2007 (which is a particularly emotional post).

*This place has changed so much since the days I went there and purchased American Girl cards, watched glass being blown, got tin-type photos made, and enjoyed the simplicity of a rickety train ride (where, of course, robbers would take over the train, Old West style). Now it's all water rides and fancy things. I haven't been there since 1996, and I'm guessing I'll never go back. Some things are better left to memory, aren't they?

When Life is Happening

Oh hello blog. Long time no talk. This is what happens when I'm busy actually living my life, I guess, right? The blog slowly takes a back seat to everything else. I've been dealing with graduate degrees and jobs and marriage and everything that falls in between. Never before has the blog taken a random and unforgiving lull.

So what to say? Well, the past week or so has been filled with lots of work, purchasing my first Jerusalem-style chanukiyah (aka one in a box to be displayed outside), an excellent Shabbat with "family" in Ramat Bet Shemesh, a few amazing dates, my attendance at TEDxJerusalem, two major falls that busted up my knee royally, and my first-ever attempt at making my own gluten-free sufganiyot (aka fried jelly donuts).

Yum-my. Recipe can be found here. 

Check out my fancy chanukiyah!

My life seems much more easily documented in images these days than in text, which is a weird change for me. But pictures, you see, are so much easier to capture and post. I envision elaborate posts about every little emotion I'm experiencing, but I'm currently in a place where I'm really enjoying my own emotions in the privacy of my own space. That's a new thing, right?

So, keep tabs on my Instagram for quite literally up-to-the day (if not hour) updates on what's going on. I'm going to try to get better about posting here, but there is just absolutely too many amazing things happening in real life for me to post about right now.

Stay tuned!

Chaviva Does Dallas!

Hopped on a plane at Denver International Airport at 7 a.m. It was the first time I walked up to the counter to check in and the guy said, "You're a plus seat, so you can have the best seat on the plane, what do you want?" So I opted for the second row, and I got free TV on the way! I watched Kathie Lee and Hoda. It was a fun flight. 

Rav Tex and I went shopping at Trader Joe's for some last-minute goodies and I spotted some delicious-looking pomegranates that weren't a million dollars each. Huzzah!

And here's the cutest little girl on the planet, who makes me happy because she lights up when I walk in the room. Makes. My. Life. If only you could see her eyes. Seriously, the bluest, most beautiful eyes on the planet. And she loves the toy and jacket I brought for her!

So excited for Rosh Hashanah here with tons of my friends' family members. I've been so relaxed while here. I can't believe that in one month, I'll be in Jerusalem.

Life is happening! L'shanah tovah friends!

Holiday Gifts Roundup!

This is a list of awesome things that I think you should look into for Chanukah gift giving (or, you know, general gift giving). Ready? Ready!

Of course, first ont he list is the Craig N Co. Hanukkah Music Sampler, which, by the way, is still free! You can't go wrong with a free gift of awesome music, whether it's for you or your mom or your bubbe! And ... The Kosher Shopaholic has a whole bunch of giveaways, including Rebbetzin Tap and Friends DVDs, so go over there and enter, enter, enter. Again, free stuff, folks.

Over on ModernTribe, I spotted The Brisket Book, which, unfortunately isn't for me, but I can think of about 30 million men who would appreciate this book, not to mention a few ladies. I'm looking at Mel over at Redefining Rebbetzin's husband; he's a big meat eater. Maybe this is the perfect gift? The author says:

If brisket does indeed improve your life, then The Brisket Book promises to be the ultimate life-affirming resource for anyone who has savored--or should savor--this succulent comfort food.

Seriously. Everything you ever wanted to know about brisket is in this book. Including pictures of cute little old Jewish ladies kvelling about the meaty meat. 

Also over at ModernTribe is Salt-M Russian Stacking Doll & Pepper, which is, um, amazing. The pepper is in the salt. I'm looking at Vicki for this one. I think she can appreciate it, because, you know, she's Russian and Russians like these kinds of things. (snicker) But seriously, cute. Super cute. I just wish it weren't plastic, but I'd still take it. 

One of my favorite sites for random awesomeness is UncommonGoods.com, where I found the Construction Plate. I'm prepared to open a restaurant that serves only vegetables served on these plates. I think it would be both fascinating from a psychological perspective and, well, just entertaining and fun! On the pricier end over at UncommonGoods is something I've wanted for eons, and that's the Custom State Necklace. Of course, I'd get a big ole' Nebraska with the gem located in Lincoln, but I can't bring myself to spend the cash money on it. Feel free to take up a fund. I'd love to muster up the change to get one for Kate over at Suburban Sweetheart. (Ooooo-hhiiiii-ooooo!)

There is a cheaper version of the state necklace available on Etsy, but, well, it's not the same. Not exactly. Still pretty cool. Although, now that I think about it, this one also is pretty gnarlysauce. 

Maybe I'm hungry, but food is a theme here. Check out this book that just came out a few weeks ago: Scanwiches. It's "part coffee table book, part cookbook, all mouth-watering celebration of the world's most versatile meal." However, that description doesn't mention that it's amazing. As in, "full-frontal food porn." (This one has me thinking of Kate, too, is that weird?)

And, of course, anything from Archie McPhee & Co. if you're a classicist and like vintage/retro items (or ones that resemble them anyway) like an Inflatable Beard or a super classic item like the Ark of the Covenant!

Okay friends, that's enough for me. So go, buy stocking stuffers and Chanukah goodies until your hearts' content! Let me know if you find anything funny or worth sharing on any fo these sites. Oh, and, you know, if you want to get me something, you know where to find me. (I'm serious about that plate.)

Jews + Chinese Food

I couldn't help but share this. My darling husband Tuvia sent this to me (I believe he got it from his pops). Enjoy!

EDIT: This image needs attribution. Just got wind that it was drawn by David Mamet for Tablet.

Do You Throw Your Latkes in the Air?

I'm sure you guys have seen this already, but I can't help but share. And ask: What's up with the astronaut?

In Jerusalem, All is Aglow

In Nachla'ot, this is what we see. Lights, lights, in every shape and size.

I'll admit it: I am incredibly spoiled being in Jerusalem for the first half of Chanukah. In fact, spoiled probably isn't even the most appropriate word. I need a word with more awesomeness and emphasis on "special" and "unique."

If you've never been in Jerusalem for Chanukah, then you're missing out. There's something about walking down a street and, when you turn to look down any alley, seeing doorway after doorway bright with the lights of chanukiot or menorahs. I was telling Tuvia that it reminds me of Christmastime back in Missouri and Nebraska, when my dad would insist on us driving around -- as a family -- to look at the varied and unique displays of lights in every neighborhood of town. Some went all out with every last inch covered in beautiful white lights (classy) and some would go all out with plastic Santa figurines and colorful lights upon every door and window frame (barf).

In Jerusalem, you see gigantic chanukiot and small ones. Silver and pewter, small glasses filled with oil, some in boxes, some simply on chairs in doorways. The variety is beautiful, the light is uplifting. I suppose this is one of the times of year where Jerusalem feels whole, connected, complete, and as one. I can't fully describe how beautiful it is -- you have to see and feel it to believe it -- but I hope some of the photos here can give you a taste of what it's like.

You can light 'em on a chair ...

I also wish I could go into a big academic diatribe about Chanukah really being (probably) a belated Sukkot celebration, but I'll save you the drama that it might unfold. I'll just say that for what it's worth, most people don't know the whole story about Chanukah and how it evolved through the years to what we know today. I will add, of course, that I love how appropriate it is to see so many chanukiot lit on the right side of the doorpost here -- after all, this is where we are meant to light our chanukiot because they are meant to sit opposite the mezuzah upon our right doorposts as a reminder of the rekindling of our commitment to HaShem and the Torah.

At any rate, Chag Chanukah Sameach, Chag Sameach, Happy Chanukah -- all from Jerusalem, which is a'glow (but not a'blaze, Baruch HaShem!).

We chose to set up our tea light chanukiah on our window ledge. Chag Chanukah Sameach!

For more photos, check out my Facebook! Also, for what it's worth, we were interviewed by the friendly faces behind Tuesday Night Live in Jerusalem, so stay tuned to their website to see if my hilarious comments about Israelis and Floridians make it on-air.

Chag Thanksgiving Sameach!

Happy Thanksgiving from ... Israel! Okay, not the most Americana place to spend the celebration of our most traditional and long-standing American holiday (which, I'll admit, has dubious beginnings), but this is the second year in a row that I've been in Israel for the holiday. I do think, however, that being in another country celebrating with other ex-pats probably gives you more of a sense of holiday spirit than when you're in America with the holiday saturating your lives. 

FACTOIDs: The first known use of "Thanksgiving Day" was in 1674. Today, we celebrate Thanksgiving Day as we believe it was celebrated in 1621 as a harvest feast shared by the English colonists (Pilgrims) of Plymouth, RI, and the Wampanoag Indians. 

I was never a big Thanksgiving celebrator. I don't like big meals. They always said to me "you're going to eat too much, run away." The holidays where we like to think it's okay to gorge are the holidays that I avoid gorging. And now, being Jewish, I get the big holiday meal once a week on Shabbat! Even then, I'm usually too busy to gorge, so it just doesn't happen (and now that I can't eat challah, a lot has changed).

My mom usually made the traditional goods: stuffing, a big ole' turkey that we'd eat on for a week, green bean casserole, and a host of other goodies. Things we never did? Sweet potatoes with marshmallows or cranberry sauce. In fact, I didn't know those were a thing until well after I'd graduated college. Green bean casserole has always been -- and will always be -- the food that sweeps me back to the holidays, no matter the time of year I eat it. Being gluten-free means that I haven't made the casserole in eons, however, because I'd have to make my own french fried onions and find a parve, gluten-free cream of mushroom soup. But the smell, the taste, the consistency ... in my world, Thanksgiving isn't Thanksgiving without the stuff. Thus, I can confidently say I haven't felt like I've had an actual Thanksgiving in years.  Stuffing is something I've always loathed. It just grossed me out. Lucky for me, I can't eat it now anyway!

Oh! And pumpkin pie! Color me a sucker for pumpkin pie. A little whipped cream? Okay, it used to be a lot of whipped cream, but it's been a while since I had a pumpkin pie (crust = not GF).

Are you catching a trend here? The traditional American eats are not friendly to those who can't eat gluten, from the stuffing to the casseroles to the desserts. This is good for me because many of the traditional eats I was never big on anyway. Maybe I was meant to move to Israel and not celebrate the American holiday?

Nah.

In fact, I mentioned that it feels more American to celebrate with ex-pats in the Holy Land, and it's true. You get to get together with other American Jews, in Israel, to give thanks to a country that (in truth) did so much for the Jewish community over the years. (I have mixed feelings about exactly what America did for Jews, but that's for another post. By this I mean the encouragement of acculturation and assimilation, as well as the loss of memory.) It's just funny to be surrounded by falafel and schwarma and yet be downing classic Americana food.

So here's to Thanksgiving, American style, no matter where you are celebrating. May you eat plenty of turkey, veggies, and even a little bit of dessert. And may all of you who spent your childhood in public school recall the paper bags that sacrificed their lives so that you could "look" like an Indian with your gnarly leaf-colored paper-bag vest!

Chag sameach!

My Favorite Things: A Winner!

You can print this out AND color it!

So, the saga of "no internet at home" continues. Supposedly some buff studs (ha) from Cablevision will be coming out today to try and fix it, which, unfortunately, is of no help to us because the next three days are Rosh Hashanah + Shabbat. The light will be blinking green while I'm davening. A lot of good that'll do me!

As a result of this internet lag, I'm very behind in everything. Yesterday was my first day of classes, and I have to say of the two classes I've been to so far, one (teaching a second language) will be challenging because of the teacher's very interesting teaching style (don't take notes!) and the other will be fascinating (sociology of education) if only for its first-day class discussion of what a society is and whether stratification is necessary and happens sort of on its own. I have a lot of reading to do, however, which is never fun. Hopefully, though, I can make waves in my teaching a second language course by finding some scholarship on using social media in the teaching of a second language. Anyone have any materials for me?

At any rate, Rosh Hashanah starts tonight and -- like every year -- my head is exploding and my mind, body, and soul are ill prepared. Am I ready to hear the shofar? Am I ready to experience newness and renewal and the excitement of 5771 and all of the awesome holidays that come after? Have I considered what 5771 will hold? No, I haven't. I haven't had time to breathe. Oh, and I've come down with a cold. The rest over the next few days will be excellent, but what does that say for my reflection and rediscovery? I wrote a Jewels of Elul blog post at the beginning of Elul, and I reflected on past years' posts. But all of the cooking (I was up until 2 a.m. last night) and running around has made me weak and exhausted. Thus, I only hope that at some point over the next few days it clicks, and I figure out where I'm going. I'm all about fresh starts and new beginnings, and this Rosh Hashanah should provide a much-needed refresh on my browser. So I want to wish you all a SHANAH TOVAH and may your new year be sweet, filled with all that you deserve! I'm so excited to start another year here on the blog with such an amazing crop of readers. You guys are awesome!

But now why you're really here: the winner of the My Favorite Things Giveaway! I took a nod from An Extended Vacation who uses the random number generator to signify the winner, as opposed to my typical method of typing EVERY name into the random picker (which is time consuming). The winner?

No. 4, which is Sophia! 

(I had a screenshot but it appears my computer ate it, so you're going to have to trust me on this one, folks.) So, Sophia, if you're reading this ... email me. I wanted to get the box sent out today, but because of the madness of preparing for the holidays, that's not going to happen. It'll go out on Monday, I hope. But believe me, it's worth waiting for :)

Tisha B'Av Cometh!

Jews the blog-o-sphere over are blogging about the impending fast of Tisha B'Av (literally, 9th of Av) that begins tonight and lasts for 25 hours through tomorrow evening. We eat a big meal tonight, followed by a hard boiled egg dipped in ashes, and then we begin our fast. We go to shul, we hear the reading of Lamentations, and we spend the day avoiding work, not wearing leather shoes, sitting low to the ground, and reflecting on the day in the Jewish calendar that seems to swallow up all the of the bad things that happen to us.

Four years ago, I wrote about my experience fasting on Tisha B'Av and my frustration with one Jews approach to Tisha B'Av for Secular Jews. Three years ago, I wrote about my frustration with the sentiment that on this day we "mourn for a life we no longer want." Two years ago, I wrote about how I felt distant from Tisha B'Av, as if I were just going through the motions.

Last year, of course, I was in Middlebury, Vermont, attempting to deal with the whole "kosher catfish" situation and touring the "kosher" kitchen on Tisha B'Av while attempting to stay sane amid classes without air conditioning in the steamy and humid Vermont heat. I was, in a word, miserable. I also was feeling pretty distant, again, from Tisha B'Av, focused, instead, on my exhaustion and the heat.

What was I doing prior to four years ago? I'm not sure. I can't remember whether my Reform experience back in Nebraska necessitated me fasting, and from what I can tell about my writings of four years ago, I'm guessing that's a big "no" on fasting and/or seeing any significance in Tisha B'Av as an active and important day in the Jewish calendar.

So what does this year mean for me? I'm not sure. I'm all the wiser, much busier, and not looking forward to fasting. As I get older, I find my body less and less accepting of fast days. I will, however, have the option of studying the necessary texts related to the day.

In reality, the one thing that's on my mind is that as soon as Tisha B'Av comes and goes, it's time for the High Holidays. Yikes. Seriously?

What I do want to leave you all with is a question: Can you carry out the mitzvah of being sad and mournful on Tisha B'Av in the manner that all mitzvot are carried out? With happiness?

Fourth of July: In and Out Like a Ghost

It's Tuesday July 6, and Independence Day just zipped on past me. In fact, yesterday zipped past me. I think it's the first Fourth of July in years that I really haven't thought much about the day or longed for July 4ths of years gone by.

This picture probably describes what I was doing on the Fourth better than I can.

Or maybe this one? 

We were on a bridge, driving back from Connecticut with a UHaul full of the rest of our "stuff." I didn't see a single burst of fireworks, and I only heard a smattering of poppage. It was depressing, mostly because where I come from, that is to so say where I grew up in Southern Missouri and Eastern Nebraska, the Fourth of July was a big deal.

I remember attending one year an installment of the dualing neighbors in their fireworks displays that rang in at $2,000+ at each house. Other years I went out to the lake with friends and watched the fireworks. One year I even hosted people at my parent's house; it was the July 4 after graduating, in 2006. We grilled out, had a water-balloon fight, and accidentally blew fireworks off in the garage (much to my father's dismay). Afterward, we went across town to watch the big display. That, folks, was a year to remember. A few years back I was in Oak Park with my then-boyfriend, drinking bears, playing bags (Chicago style), and ogling a friend's new baby. The year after that -- my last in Chicago -- I schlepped out to the local harbor, plopped down with hundreds of other people, and waited for the fireworks to begin. I watched people order Latino corn treats off carts, children edging near the water and parents pulling them back. It was a peaceful, calm, and, for me, perfect way to celebrate Independence Day.

And this year? Moving boxes, packing boxes, emptying boxes, staring at boxes, wondering when it will all be done. Painting, trying to find time to eat, nursing back pain, knee pain, leg pain, arm pain. One thing's for sure: I was never cut out to move heavy or light objects up and/or down stairs.

I was joking with Tuvia that I am a thinker, an intellectual. Worse came to worse, I wouldn't be able to snuff it physically with the rest of them. Thinking about the Holocaust, the camps, those who couldn't snuff it, it depresses me. Would I have been one of them? Such a morbid thought for Independence Day, but that's the way the cookie crumbles right now.

We hope to have everything painted and unpacked by Friday. Hopefully Shabbos will come in to a well-organized, settled, comfortable house that feels like a home. Come Monday, I'm back to being a student (for the time being anyhow, as I have to start and finish my grad exam in two weeks). It'll feel good to be back doing something that I'm good at: learning, writing, positing.

Back to the unpackin' and paintin' grind, folks. Be well!

Cheesecake Out Your Ears!

Shavuot came, saw, and left. Of course, it also conquered (mad props to the folks in my shiur for adding that neglected "conquering" into my talk on Rachav, wink wink). It was dramatic, dairy-licious, gluten free (for me anyway), and, well, long.

For the second year in a row, I stayed up all night getting my Torah study on. I woke up around 10:30 a.m. on Tuesday, went about my business, and then ended up in West Hartford for davening. We ate dinner with friends, and then headed off to the first bout of learning at the home of some excellent yidden who have the most beautiful interior (read: kitchen and sunporch) I have ever seen. After I got done coveting (oops) their cabinets and backsplash, I made my way to the sunporch, nabbed a comfy chair, and nestled in for the long haul. The first talk was given by a math professor, but unlike usual, he spent his time talking about a few songs and their connection to the texts (both biblical and rabbinic). There was even singing, which livened the audience participation and helped keep nodding heads awake. My resolve is now to track down those songs and learn them. The only one I can remember off the top of my head is "To sing is to be like the Jordan" (לשיר זה כמו להיות ירדן). Beautiful words, beautiful tune.

Next, it was my turn. I passed out my handouts (I'm an academic after all) with sources for Rachav from the Midrash and Bible, and began my talk. I like to keep things interesting, and I try to use colloquial language because I want to keep people awake and involved. I try to remain just informal enough that it's acceptable, you know? I like people to listen! And I definitely don't like talking at people. So I rocked my talk, which I'm still trying to figure out how to post up here in some fashion -- you might find something in the sidebar there to the right soon -- because the talk illicited a lot of really interesting questions and conversation. After it was over, I felt so good, not to mention completely reawakened. After all, it was 1 something in the morning!

Another fellow gave a quick talk and we all schlepped on to the shul for the second half of learning. We got there, meeting the sprawling group of teenagers that were funneling in, and then? The alarm went off. BURGLARY! BURGLARY! Talk about an inopportune time for the alarm to go off. I waited in the lobby and the policeman showed up after about 10 minutes (very prompt there, fellas), and I had to explain to him exactly what was going on. Late night learning, holiday, Judaism, blah blah blah. He seemed to buy it, so he asked if anyone had the code for the alarm. Alas! Only the rabbi. "Oh, I'll go pick him up and bring him back," the police man said. My response? "No dice." I explained that he'd need to get the code from the rabbi and then drive back with it. As he walked out the door, we also asked him to get the key to the ark. "The what?" he said. The ark! "You guys have an ark here!?" he joked. Luckily, right as he stepped outside, the rabbi's son showed up and saved the day with the code. Baruch haShem!

The rest of the night was kind of a blur. There were two more shiurim (let's not even get into the drama surrounding what happened with the third), and by the time davening rolled around at 4:45 a.m., I was exhausted, full of coffee and sweets, but unable to stand up straight. The interesting thing is that it was as if I were in trance. I stood, and I read the words so fast (you see, early-morning, post-all-night davening usually moves at the speed of light, which it did), and my eyes closed on their own. It was almost like I was experiencing the davening out of body. The words swimming around me. It was, in a word, weird.

I went back to the place I was staying, and crashed around 6:30 a.m. I slept off and on until 9:30 a.m., when I got up, got dressed, and walked to the other side of town to the other shul for a supposed 11 a.m. shiur that, in reality, didn't start until 11:45. I sat, half-alive, through their davening, tried to stay awake during the shiur, and then enjoyed a lengthy meal with a former professor and his family (which, can I say, is completely awesome). I didn't end up back over at my bed until around 5:30, and by then I decided it was futile to even attempt to sleep. I stayed up, forcing Tuvia to do the same, and we chatted with my hosts. Then came davening, then dinner at the rabbis (by which time I was practically loopy and giggling 90 miles a minute). I found my way home, rinsed off the allergens that had stuck themselves to my entire body, and went to bed around midnight.

All told, I had been up for nearly 40 hours with a nap probably clocking at two hours, max. I slept like a baby (which, someone pointed out, does not mean that I woke up every two hours crying for milk or in the fetal position sucking my thumb). The problem was that I didn't want to wake up for shul yesterday, and even after a short nap yesterday I still woke up exhausted. This morning it was painful to pull myself out of bed. I am exhausted. 


Luckily, it was worth it. All-night learning lends itself to a lot of interesting conversations and interactions, especially with people whom I probably won't see much of once Tuvia and I trek off to the greater NYC area. We're begging them all -- already -- to come visit, stay, and eat with us, and I hope they do. We've made too many good friends here to just wish ourselves away. But Shavuot this year was interesting, especially learning about some interesting characters found in the Talmud/Midrash called Mashiach ben Yosef and Mashiach ben David. 


Don't worry. I'm going to write a whole post on that. Maybe @DovBear will let me post it to his blog? Who knows. Shavua tov, friends. Time to get down with Shabbos now. 

Easter @ The Intersection of Memory Lane

Here's a deep theological and meaningful question for you: How would the world function if Starbucks wasn't open on Easter (and other holidays, at that)? Okay, just to keep your minds at ease, I am at Starbucks, but I'm not partaking in the coffee (or anything else for that matter). I bought one of those really overpriced bottles of water that will help save the children of the world; I brought my own iced coffee from home. I figure I probably could have gotten by coming in here and just sitting (since I'm here all the time anyway), but that would have left me seriously guilt-tripping. So it's water. Water for free Wi-Fi and the ability to be in my "office"-like mentality in which I prepare to grade 80 undergraduate exams that will be ... interesting. The class is up to the Jesus as a Jew stuff, and that always makes for lively exam answers.

I'm actually surprised by the amount of people in here. I'm also surprised at the number of people on the road (driving to church?). I made a trip to Wal-Mart last night for some Pesach cooking utensils, and the rush at 9 p.m. was insane. People (obviously parents and grandparents) were shoving chocolate bunnies and Peeps and marshmallow covered eggs into their shopping carts, along with those cheap easter baskets and that obnoxious grass stuff that you'll be picking out of your carpet for weeks. Ahh, memories.

I grew up, as you all well know, in a Christian community in a "Christian" household. Our holidays never included Jesus (sorry, dude), but rather the popular American themes of the holiday: Santa at Christmas, the Easter Bunny at Easter, etc. I got Jesus at Vacation Bible School with friends in the summer and later in high school I got it through clubs and church adventures and Weekend of Champions retreats (think: giant Christian slumber party).

As a kid, I woke up every Easter in a full sprint to my designated Easter bucket. My parents, you see, bought each of us a bucket (my older brother's blue, mine pink, later my little brother's was yellow I think), stuffed with that annoying grass stuff. My favorite treats were the chocolate covered marshmallows (which, luckily, are a Passover favorite now) and those little candy-coated chocolate eggs. My mom bought Peeps by the case, it seemed like, and we'd eat them while watching television and waiting for dinner. Sometimes we got nicer treats, things that actually weren't food and could come in handy (toys, that is). Dinner usually consisted of ham, cooked in some honey-BBQ combo and all the fixins that went along with every other holiday, like deviled eggs and mom's marshmallow/pineapple concoction. I remember one year mom wasn't in the mood to cook, so we ended up at Red Lobster for Easter eating shrimp and french fries. Now that was Easter eating.

As I got older, Easter got less interesting. I don't know when I stopped believing in the Easter bunny, but when I was in high school it became more about Jesus. Yet I didn't wrap myself up in the holiday; it just wasn't my way. I worked at McDonalds and then at Wal-Mart, and I always volunteered myself to work the holidays. I loved the pre-holiday rush (people-watching, that is) and the extra dollars in my pocket were nice. I suppose I should have known from the beginning that Christian holidays wouldn't be on my list of "things to do" in the future.

Then again, I've never been a big holiday person anyhow. Jewish holidays seem to wrap themselves into the fabric of the life of the Jewish people, however. It seems different in certain ways.

It's funny to think that many hundreds of years ago a Jew sitting in a Starbucks on Easter Sunday would have been a death sentence. I find it less weird to be out and about at Christmas because I know that a lot of the background behind Christmas isn't historically accurate (but still, mad props to my Christian friends, I love you guys; and I know a lot of the Jewish holidays have their issues, too). Being out on Easter makes me a little uncomfortable. Is that normal? Residual fear from the Middle Ages a little weird? Probably.

Anyhow. I've got about 80 exams to grade and then some food to cook for the last two days of Pesach (and seriously, baruch haShem, because this holiday is eating away at my insides and making me physically ill [that's not just me overreacting, I really am physically ill]). So Happy Easter to my Christian readers, Moadim l'simcha to my Jewish readers, and to all my Muslim and Pagan and Buddhist and Wiccan and Hindu and Atheist and Agnostic readers -- enjoy your Sunday, mmk?

Chavi Goes All Purim On Yo Tush!

Motzei Shabbos moonlight, on the way to shul for the Purim Party!

I've never had a truly stellar and outrageous Purim experience before. My shul back in Nebraska always did a Purim Spiel (think, the megillah as a musical to the theme of Classic Rock or Beatles Classics), but I never dressed up or really rocked out Purim style (last year Tuvia and I were on a plane back from Chicago around now). And, of course, Purim isn't even over -- it's really just begun. But man alive, what an experience so far.

Our shul did three readings this year: the regular loud one, a women's one, and the quiet reading. Our amazing friends prompted the quiet reading, because of their children's sensory/noise concerns, and the turnout for the reading was outstanding. Not everyone loves noise on Purim, so we opted for a single grogger spin, and a quiet boo, or some subtle key shakes. It was excellent, and for my first time really listening to the megillah in full (I've read it about 1 million times) was really beautiful, especially because the person reading it was one of our closest friends.

And then? Then came the party. If I could describe it to you, I'd say this: It was like a bar mitzvah gone completely wrong. I mean that, of course, in the most positive way possible. The only thing it really lacked was a giant bouncy castle and some farm animals. there was a big racetrack for people to race cars, video game stations set up for guitar hero and other systems, and there was even a setup for MarioKart racing, bucket seats included. There was a bubble guy there who basically led the kids in the Chicken Dance while magically making bubbles appear, as well as a face-painting lady, and my favorite thing of all: the Ben and Jerry's people! There was a baked potato bar and pasta and cookies and candy and soda pop out your ears, and the kids, I'm sure, are at home right now regurgitating their evening's indulgences. The band that played was, in my opinion, less than impressive. But I have to share their pictures anyway. The lead singer fancied himself a modern day Mick Jagger (those moves were ... interesting) and the masks were a straight rip from that other band that tours and does shows in animal masks (is that Animal Collective?). Overall, I was just bummed. It made me long for and miss desperately Blue Fringe. Now THAT is a band!

But the best thing about the big ole crazy Purim Party? THE COSTUMES. Holy mother of Moses! There were gigantic bottles of mustard, penguins, hippies, a greaser dad and his poodle skirt wife, Dr. Seuss characters, knights, cowgirls and cowboys, Star Trekkies -- and those were just the ADULT costumes! And there was our costumes, and those, folks, were something special. Can you figure out what we are?

Okay, probably not. So, only two people out of several dozen got our costumes, which are what I call "punny" -- funny puns or plays on words. My costume is Pink Eye and Tuvia's costume is Swine Flu. A few other punny costumes were our friend who was dressed all in black with postage stamps attached (Black Mail) and another who was toting around a piece of mail around her neck while dressed in a wedding gown (Mail Order Bride). These, my friends, are creative costumes! Just a note, you'll NEVER see me in that much pink ever again. Ever. That robe was so bulky, too. I look kind of ridiculous. We want to mix things up for the second reading and party/seudah tomorrow, so we'll see what happens.

Oh, and the most amusing thing? The payot-toting, goat-mask wearing drummer of the band! AWESOME.

For those of you looking for a little something more in your Purim, I highly recommend looking up or checking out a copy of Greek Esther. The version we read and know now is Hebrew Esther. There are three main versions of Esther that float around -- Hebrew, Greek, and the Alpha text. The latter is a Greek text that pretty much resembles the Hebrew version we have today (a translation). However, "Greek Esther" is a version of the Esther story that is about 170 lines longer, includes tons and tons of HaShem, and has many inclusions in it that make the modern reader question why the rabbis chose to canonize Hebrew Esther, not Greek Esther. After all, Hebrew Esther doesn't mention HaShem, not once. In Greek Esther, Mordechai and Esther pray to HaShem, Mordechai has a vision about HaShem's plan, and more.

The simplest answer, of course, is that the longer version was written in Greek and Greek = bad. Another theory is that there originally was a longer Hebrew Esther that the Greek Esther was based on, but because it was lost by the time the rabbis got to it, they still believed that Greek = bad. My question is why they didn't translate the longer version into Hebrew and go with it (heck, burn the Greek copy!). Of course, the rabbis would probably say that the whole point of Esther is that HaShem, while implicit, must be hidden for the story to be truly impactful as it takes place in the Diaspora. The funny thing is that the Rabbis, in the Midrash, essentially DO what Greek Esther does in that it elaborates and sort of embellishes the Hebrew Esther and the result is that if you read Hebrew Esther with the Midrash you sort of get the same feel as Greek Esther.

Anyhow, I could talk about this for hours, but what I'm saying is this: Go read Greek Esther. It'll BLOW your mind. Chag Purim Sameach!! Chaviva out!

What!? Pigs need automobile gas, too!

I am a Secular Christmas Dropout!

Riding down in the elevator of the new Science Center, on my way for coffee while Tuvia finishes up his day at work, I read the sign: "Science Center closes at 3 p.m. today in honor of the holiday!" In my head, all I can think is, How weird that this has become just another day for me.

It's so weird, every time Christmas rolls around, to think that I used to be a huge fan of Christmas. I loved the songs, the trees, the lights, the celebration. I never really took the idea of it being the birthday of Jesus to heart, because I knew my history and I knew my religion. Regardless of this, in my parents house Christmas was the kind of day where everyone sat back and watched TV, played with the new gadgets and gizmos, and ate Christmas classics. Oh, and we also gorged on cookies. My mom was big on cookies during the holidays, and she usually sent my dad into work before and after Christmas with tins full of confectionery goodies: No Bakes, Chocolate Chip Cookies, Chinese Chews (now that I think about it, the name is kind of inappropriate), those cookies she made with the cookie gun that had all sorts of shapes, like Christmas trees and snowmen and snowflakes, as well as fudge and lemon cookies and every other kind of cookie her little hands could make. We'd chow on Chex Mix (homemade, of course), and watch whatever happened to be on television. New video games were torn open and inserted, played for hours. I remember one of my favorite gifts of all time was this nifty Crossword Puzzle thing, where you turned the knobs and you'd get a new game each time. I got my share of Barbie dolls and art supplies and books and definitely pajamas, too. But the aura of the day was beautiful. It was relaxed and casual and a day where we wouldn't do anything -- after all, you couldn't, because everything was closed. Sometimes we'd have to run out to Walgreens for batteries or milk or green beans, but really the only reason to go out was to look at the lights.

I still love the lights, of course. But only the white ones -- the colorful mess of wires and lights that ends up on some people's houses leaves me feeling queasy. There's something universal about the lights of the holidays (the white ones, anyway).

Now? Chanukah came and went, and each day was just another day, aside from the lighting of the Chanukiah and the opening of a few presents. It wasn't one day of extravagant present-opening or gorging on sweets. Chanukah just isn't set up for that, and it wasn't meant to be. In fact, I'm not sure that there *is* a holiday set up in the Jewish calendar that can compare to what we've turned Christmas into. And I'm okay with that. At the same time, the nostalgia that I feel for Christmas concerns me sometimes. It feels wrong or inappropriate. I bob my head to Christmas tunes in the store, and while sitting at the dentist yesterday (Christmas music blaring despite the fact that most of the dentists at this particular location are Jewish) my feet were tapping to the classic Christmas carols of my youth. At one point, I was busy singing those songs in choir and in class. What a different world I lived in!

I imagine if I lived in Israel, the feelings of Christmas would fade over time, and I probably wouldn't even long for the lazy days of mom's cookies and bulk gifts and cheesy, old Christmas ornaments. Did I mention the tree? My mom loves her tree -- it was her prized possession, always. Every year she struggled to get us to help her put it up, and begrudgingly we would always help her. Now? Mom doesn't have anyone to help her. She managed to get my little brother to help this year (with the help of his girlfriend). She sent me a photo of one of the ornaments, a very old one that she has put on the tree since the 1980s. It's a mirrored one, much like all of her early ones (the entire tree is white/silver with a few hints of color here and there), and her comment with it was "Did you know that one of the mirrors was a six pointed star....we must have know way back then that it would represent you :)." My mom, as always, has brilliant insight into these things.

At any rate, I just wanted to share some of my thoughts with you all. Very stream-of-consciousness here, so I apologize if it's unreadable. I'm just trying to figure out the emotions at this time of the year. It's impossible to wash them away, or to even wish them gone. In fact, I think the fact that I have positive memories of that time of my life is good -- Secret Santa, ornaments, mom's green bean casserole and Chex Mix, the constant gift of flannel pajamas -- they're all a part of who I was and inevitably will shape who I become. Plus, I think they give me particular insight into what it means to be a Secular American (Jesus never existed in our Christmas, period). Someday, when I have kids, I think I'll be able to explain things better because of my experiences. Let's just hope that they develop a sense of worldliness like I have, so that when Christmas time rolls around they will neither long for it nor disparage those who celebrate it.

If you're in the mood, read a very emotional Christmas Day post from 2007, or about Nittel Nacht, the traditional way Ashkenazi Jews spend (or don't) Christmas Eve!

Light my Cupcake Menorah?

Oh Cupcake Menorah, oh Cupcake Menorah, how lovely are your candles! (Sung to the tune of Oh Christmas Tree, but a little more appropriate here.)

I have to give a hat tip to @ModernTribe_Jew for Tweeting about this. Talk about the cutest and coolest idea ever. Yesterday was National Cupcake Day, so this treat is right on time for your menorah lighting. Also, who wouldn't love to just chow down on that menorah after the candle burns out?

Check out EatMeDaily to get the recipe and how-to for this classy and tasty menorah.