9/11: The Obligatory Post

Another 9/11. Another year when I can't look at September 11 on the calendar without transportation to a different type. Another year where I see the numbers 9 and 11 completely independent of one another and yet still pair them together to the day I sat in Citizenship Issues and then math class and then the rest of school, clutching the hands of friends and my then-boyfriend, as the entire school shut down to watch burning buildings.

In every generation there is some moment that becomes the catalog point. Where were you when ...? And then a year later, the year after that, the first time you're near the location where it happened. We catalog our lives based on trauma.

Why is that?

I took this photo while on my first-ever trip to a big city, to New York City. It was frigid and we were on the ferry to Ellis Island. It was March 31, 2001. Less than six months later the skyline was changed. And the moment it happened, I went back to this picture and thought, "But we were just there." Every year on 9/11 I look at this picture, photoshopping little planes in my mind, adding audio of screams.

It's surreal. But this is one moment by which I catalog my life.

If you're looking for more, check out Jewish Responses to 9/11 over at Hirhurim, or maybe Un'Taneh Tokef Prayer and 9/11. But whatever you do, be wary when you Google "Judaism" and "9/11." Primarily, the results are riddled with tales of the Jewish conspiracy and how no Jews died on 9/11. This, folks, is false.

Changes in Plans

An unfortunate turn of events means I'm not going to Israel in a few days. Nope, I'll be stateside, which has some other exciting news attached to it. But this video was posted on Twitter today and makes me really bummed I'm not going to Israel, and even more bummed that I'm not going to ROI (well, I was never going this year -- why didn't I push to apply!?). Oh Benji, how I miss you! (Esther, you, too!)




Bad screen cap there if you ask me. 
Anyway, sometimes teams don't mesh, and sometimes people get voted off the island, so I'm not going to be staffing a trip to Israel. It's upsetting for me personally and professionally, because I saw a huge change to really impact the lives of some amazing Colorado teens. With my connections, my master's degree in Judaic studies and deep knowledge of the political and religious history of the Israel-Palestine conflict, and love of all things Jewish and Israel, I saw myself as really making an impact. Alas, I'm not going. Hopefully I can find a way to Israel later this year or my chazakah of going every year since 2008 will crash and burn. 
The upside? I'm taking a trip to Los Angeles in a few weeks to meet someone I've been talking with online on and off since moving to Colorado. He and I haven't talked about how public I can/should be about the details, so for now, I'll leave it at that. 
Stay tuned!

Oh Passover! Oh Passover! How Soon You are Approaching!

Oh ... Passover! Pesach! The feast of unleavened bread! The week of pained colon! So on, and so forth. 'Tis the season, folks, are you fully prepared?

I'll just say that I'm not. Period. I bought some stuff to exist as Passover-specific, and I'm planning on taking a bucket-load of things to be kashered tomorrow -- pots, pans, and other bigger items that I can't kasher on my stovetop. But beyond that? I haven't started cleaning and the amount of kosher l'pesach products I've purchased is relegated to some jam, some of the Yehuda Gluten-Free Matzos (which don't fulfill the mitzvah for the seder), and a few other things. I'm trying to buy as little as humanly possible for Passover, largely because over the past three years the volume of things that I had in my dating and married life sort of horrifies me now. When I was married, we had two homes and each of those homes had three sets of everything for everything. We had Meat, Dairy, Parve and Passover Meat, Dairy Parve. Among two homes, that amounted to twelve sets of things. Of course, the Parve weren't full sets, but otherwise, we had it. It was just too much. So I'm going minimalist this year.

Thus, tomorrow, it being the kashering day, also is going to be the "start the cleaning" day. I've got a kosher l'pesach Smoothie Maker for all of my liquid-diet needs, and I'm planning on doing a lot of salads and eggs.

And on that note, I'm also going Sephardic. That means I plan on digging through piles of rice to get all the bad things out, so that come Friday night, I have clean, kosher-for-Passover rice. I probably won't delve too much into beans, but I do plan on having quinoa around. Flax Seed also is a friend of mine, so you can expect that will be in the diet plan, too. Also? I was elated to find out there are certain brands of Rice and Almond milk that are good for Passover (for Sephardim) WITHOUT certification. Color me stoked! (Find the Sephardic kosher-for-Passover products list here.)

Luckily, I have a pantry that I can simply close off, and I plan on taping off all of my cabinets, too. This is going to be live-on-the-counter Passover.
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The reality, lucky for me, is that there really isn't any chametz in my home to begin with. The only thing that is chametz are the gluten-free oats that I have. Otherwise, this is a 24/7/365-chametz-free zone. Does that mean any less cleaning? Nope. Oats are chametz, and thus hardcore cleaning is a must.

I'm also one of those people who always ascribed to the idea that on Passover, a house should be completely clean of chametz. You have plenty of warning, you know when Passover is, so eat all of your bread and cereal beforehand. I've never bought into this whole "sell your chametz" thing. It just seems like a cheap copout. But this year? Well, the gluten-free oats that I have are from Trader Joe's, and I have an entire unopened bag of them. There are no Trader Joe's near here, and the other gluten-free oats I can purchase are hella expensive. So I'm being that person this year: I'm keeping my oats, locking them away, and feeling like a hypocrite.

In addition, I'm planning to do a hardcore car-cleaning scrub down this week. We all eat in our cars, we can't lie about it. Whether it's a snack or a coffee or a nosh, we do it. I have, without a doubt, eaten some delicious oat-based granola bars in my car, and that's chametz, so I'm going to vacuum the heck out of my car. Plus, it's a good time for Spring Cleaning, so why not?

But I have a week to do all of this. I really need to do a bit of meal-planning so that I have everything I need once Friday attacks. I have plans for both of the seders, yet no plans for the last days of Passover. In between, I plan on my staples of Matzo + Cream Cheese + Jam for snacking and lots of smoothies and raw foods for meals. Still, it's going to be a rough week as a Gluten-Free Vegetarian. I might have to cave and rock out some fish this week.

If you're in a last-minute rush and need some help with finding a seder, figuring out the rules and regulations, or are looking for some gnarly recipes, here are some helpful resources!

• Passover.org | Yes, it's run by Chabad. They own the domain. I think this is impressive! Their website has everything from the blessings to a bounty of recipes that will leave you giggling with joy. I highly recommend the Lemon Ice Cream. Also, they have a calendar to keep you on track with what you're supposed to do when. Print it out, and abide!
• Vegetarian Times Super Seder | If you're like me, you're looking for filling, protein-packed vegetarian meals. These recipes sound delish!
• Oranges + Seder Plates | If you're curious what the history is, read my post on it. 
• Unconverted at the Seder Table? | Yeah, it came up once. It's an interesting thing to consider. Then again, we're supposed to have strangers at our table!
• JoyofKosher.com | It is what it is. A seder-plate full of recipes!
• The Orthodox Union | They have everything you could need up -- a sefirat ha'omer chart, a guide to foods, and more. Check out their digital magazine here. 

Have any questions you think I can answer? Just let me know!

The TribeFest Round-Up

If you have to go to Vegas, stay at the Palazzo. You won't regret it. 

Where to begin. It's been nearly a week since I got back from Las Vegas where I was attending the first-annual (aka second) TribeFest, and I'm still struggling to figure out what I really got out of the entire experience. There are a few things I can say for certain.

1. Being in a certain space with nearly 1,500 other Jews makes you feel at home. 
2. There is so much that needs to be done among Jews in their 20s, 30s, and 40s to ensure our Jewish future.
3. The conversion and minority Jewish communities (GLBTQ) were highly underrepresented, underinvolved, and almost marginalized.
4. Jews need to consider who they are, where they're going, and how they're going to get there.

And on that last night, five-inch heels and a miniskirt with a beyond low-cut blouse are not the way to go. For this, I am certain. 

It makes me sad that what stands out most about TribeFest was the ogling men and half-naked women. And these were the attendees -- not the average Las Vegas folk. I might as well have been wearing a burka. Not that I was on the prowl, because, well, I'm happily relationshiped. But it made me sad for all of my single counterparts. 

I was also highly disappointed by how "left out" I felt by the entire experience. So much of TribeFest relies on connections from camp, day school, college fraternities, Hillel, Hebrew school, synagogue, b'nai mitzvah, and so much more. For those of us who didn't grow up with any of that -- no memories, no connection, no relation -- there were voids. Grand Canyon-style voids. There was a time for people with certain affiliations to get together for food, friendship, drinks, and re-connecting. There wasn't a single one that I fit into, because I didn't grow up Jewish. Many moments left me wondering, "What about my experiences? Or lack thereof. How do I fit?"

But even still, knowing the shenanigans going on behind the scenes and how insignificant my Jewish experience felt, I had an amazing time with my fellow Colorado Jews. I got to catch up with old friends like @EstherK and meet certain old friends in real life for the first time, like @drewkaplan. I also got the amazing opportunity to meet and spend time with illustrious former SNL comedian Rachel Dratch (a member of the tribe!). I wish I could replicate her reaction to my birth name, which was hilarious. Being told by Rachel Dratch that I should write a book was, honestly, enlightening. Now, if only I could find someone to give me an advance so I can take time off, move to the mountains, and devote my time to book-writing ... 

I was able to listen to inspiring stories by a girl who started a multi-million dollar nonprofit at the age of seven, a lawyer who was inspired in law school to bring to light the reality of the abuse of children who are forced into becoming suicide bombers, and an Ethiopian Jewish woman (now an IDF med) who was saved from near-death as a child during her family's harrowing escape to Israel and who turned that experience into her career as a doctor and advocate for Ethiopian Jews. 

My reaction to it all? This tweet: 

The more people I listen to, the stronger I grow in feeling like I need to do more with my voice. #Tribefest

I know that I have a unique voice for a unique community, and perhaps I don't do enough with that voice.  I wanted to use my voice so many times, but my peculiar current circumstances largely prevent me from taking action, or even speaking on things that are important to me. But the experience left me inspired, none the less.

QUIZreal winning team, FTW!

It also left me with a $20 giftcard to Amazon (Colorado rocked QUIZreal, hosted by @thdpr and @hypersem) and a winning record in G-dcast's Pitchfest (again, Colorado rocked it and will be having our pitch made into a video)! I made so many new friends and connections in the Jewish world, and I got to experience the vibrancy of the Detroit and Texas communities (which were heavily represented).

DUH!

The next time around, I hope to see more educational sessions. I can think of a dozen sessions that could happen at TribeFest that would integrate Judaism, social media, Israel, and so much more. Sessions that provide material and ideas as takeaways. I also think that the convert's point of view is one that is both unique, necessary, and was missing and that voice needs to be heard. It's a teaching moment. An elegant, necessary teaching moment. 

Okay, okay. I was spoiled in THE Sheldon Adelson's private suite. But still, Vegas? Nah.

Oh, and the ultimate lesson of this trip? I hate Las Vegas. (Not the people, the place.)

Go On: Get Mortified!

Verily, this is good for the Jews. 

I love it when things ooze out of the woodwork. As a blogger, every now and again I get contacted by some of the most random PR agencies looking to get their info up on a blog, and most of the time I turn it down because I find it difficult to even fit it into my policy of 93 percent solid fixed content and 7 percent completely random content. But I think this will fit nicely into that 7 percent of content, and I hope you agree, because sometimes we all need a light, fluffy break from Jewtent (that's Jew + Content, silly).

This week, I was contacted by the Sundance Channel about The Mortified Sessions, a new show that highlights the confessions of some of the biggest stars around. The upcoming episode features SNL's Will Forte (who is known for his awesome MacGruber skit that, let's be honest, I love, because I went to the MacGruber movie screening at SXSW this year) as well as Jennifer Grey, who is, of course, a Jew!

Check out this very brief trailer for the upcoming episode on Monday at 8 p.m. ET.





I think the show is probably taking a cue from the ever-popular Who do you think you are? in an effort to remind us that, yes, of course, actors are people, too. It's shocking, I know, right? I just wish I were famous enough to be on this show ... they should have blogger celebrities. Or maybe I should start that trend, eh?

Each episode is 30 minutes long and takes place interview style with host David Nadelberg (Jewwww) as he guides "celebrities through their shoebox, exposing some stories that they have never shared before."

It turns out Nadelberg actually has been exposing the mortified pieces of our pasts (and his, for that matter) for some time now. According to Bookslut,

David Nadelberg started the Mortified project after discovering a hilariously awful love letter he wrote in high school, and figuring he couldn't be the only one with embarrassing adolescent writings to share with the world. Beginning in 2002 as a live stage show, Mortified has since expanded to nine cities (including Malmo, Sweden), a series of books, and a just-launched web series.

Honestly, I'm kind of bummed out that I just chucked all of my high school notes and love letters because they were bulking up my storage space. Le sigh. You can read something hilarious from David Nadelberg's book Mortified that discusses being "cheap" and being Jewish and how it's a sort of requirement. It gave me a few giggles. Just go here and jump to page 183 and read!

At any rate, you can visit their website or Facebook for more info on the show!

Ask Chaviva Anything!: Zionism and Non-Orthodox Jews

So many interesting questions keep pouring in, so I'm just going to keep on rolling through them. The variety is amazing, and the thought put into the question is impressive. You guys never cease to amaze me!

What do you think of Zionism? Are you a Zionist?

What do I think of Zionism? Well, I think that it was/is a powerful movement that was/is necessary for the establishment/maintenance of the State of Israel. Zionism itself was always a political movement meant to secure a national homeland for Jews of all stripes, and that homeland happens to be the biblical and modern Israel. So I think it's awesome, necessary, and without it, I think there would be fewer self-identified Jews in the world because there wouldn't be something binding us all in a physical manner.

As for whether I'm a Zionist, that's a good question, and the answer is yes. I think that a lot of the original understandings of Zionism and the reasoning and necessity for a Jewish homeland have been lost throughout the years, and sometimes I wonder if we're in a post-Zionist world, but then I'm reminded daily of the hatred of Jews that still exists and how important a homeland truly is. I do, however, think that sometimes the terminology is abused in order to validate actions by both Jews and the government of Israel.

What's you're beef with non Orthodox Jews?

My beef? I wasn't aware that I had a beef with non-Orthodox Jews. After all, more of this blog's history is probably devoted to me as a non-Orthodox Jew than an Orthodox Jew. My stance has always been that everyone's on a journey and everyone needs to travel at their own pace. As long as it's up, we're all in a good place. If you want to clarify, add a comment or re-ask your question, and feel free to cite specific instances that gave you the impression I wasn't down with my non-Orthodox folks.

What is your definition of Tzniut?

I hate to simply copy and paste, but I wrote back in my response to The Tzniut Project the following. (Also, you can read more about my take on tzniut here.)

For me, the first thing I think of is, "Where does it come from? What does it mean? Why do we do it?" I suppose it's only natural that I'm plagued with questions from square one. It's easy for me to explain to people why we cover our hair (the sotah portion) and why we cover as much or as little as we do. But when it comes to clothing and speech and thought, it's a lot harder. As many others have said, it's a type of lifestyle, but lifestyle sounds too much like choice to me, and for me, yes I choose to do it, but the outline of what's to be done is less of a choice. Tzniut means more than modesty, it means living your life in a way that others wish to emulate. Making your modest clothes look beautiful, to emanate inner beauty, to carry yourself in thought and speech in a way that others say "Wow, if that's what tzniut is, then count me in." It's being a light, really, unto all people. It's being humbled before haShem and all that's been provided us.

From Micah 6:8:

הגיד לך אדם מה טוב ומה יי דורש ממך כי אם עשות משפט ואהבת חסד והצנע לכת עם יי 

HaShem told you what is good and what is required of you: do justly, love mercy (loving-kindness), and walk humbly (modestly) with HaShem.

The word used -- הצנע (ha'tznea) -- is the same word/root for tzniut. So, basically HaShem is saying "Walk this way."

An Oldie, But a Goodie

And by that, I mean, indeed. What is the secret?

"...If statistics are right, the Jews constitute but one percent of the human race. It suggests a nebulous dim puff of stardust lost in the blaze of the Milky way. properly, the Jew ought hardly to be heard of, but he is heard of, has always been heard of. He is as prominent on the planet as any other people, and his commercial importance is extravagantly out of proportion to the smallness of his bulk. His contributions to the world's list of great names in literature, science, art, music, finance, medicine, and abstruse learning are also away out of proportion to the weakness of his numbers. He has made a marvelous fight in this world, in all the ages; and had done it with his hands tied behind him. He could be vain of himself, and be excused for it.

The Egyptian, the Babylonian, and the Persian rose, filled the planet with sound and splendor, then faded to dream-stuff and passed away; the Greek and the Roman followed; and made a vast noise, and they are gone; other people have sprung up and held their torch high for a time, but it burned out, and they sit in twilight now, or have vanished. The Jew saw them all, beat them all, and is now what he always was, exhibiting no decadence, no infirmities of age, no weakening of his parts, no slowing of his energies, no dulling of his alert and aggressive mind. All things are mortal but the Jew; all other forces pass, but he remains. What is the secret of his immortality?"

-- Mark Twain in "Concerning the Jews," Harper's Magazine, 1899

It's like Chanukah 'round here.

Four days worth of mail finally showed up in my mailbox here, and boy oh boy it was like Chanukah Harry decided to bless me big time! Here we have a textbook (originally $52, purchased for $35 thanks to a coupon, with FREE shipping!) for a Bible class, "Cool Jews" by Lisa Alcalay Klug, which I'll be reading up on for a bit on the PopJudaica.com blog, and finally a Jewish Tweets (a la Twitter) mug from the wonderful folks over at the Jewish Treats blog.

Yes, it is a good day to be a poor graduate student.

But seriously, stay tuned. I went to the big Jewish barbecue (which was really just a good ole' fashioned cookout) last night and was perplexed by the "it's kosher" followed by "here are packets of mayo for your hamburger" bit. I also had a Hebrew class this morning that was downright outstanding, and I'll be heading to a seminar in just a few, which has me frightened because there are only five or six people registered. The fewer people? The more attention to the individual. In the long run I dig this, in the short run it scares me.

Oh, and Hebrew class? Chaviva went off with FLYING colors (prof had us sign in, no roll call, but did do this big intro thing where she taught us how to say "My name is ..."). Score one for the Hebrew name.

Remembering.

Today, readers, is Holocaust Remembrance Day. The Holocaust -- the Shoah -- need not be defined or explained in any measure here. I think that the general readership of my blog knows what happened, when, to whom, where, and why. The day was inaugurated in 1959 and the date chosen was the 27th of Nisan (because the original date, the 14th of Nisan, fell the day before Pesach which is pretty inconvenient as far as choosing dates goes). There are a variety of ways in many different places around the globe that the memory of the 6 million and more is remembered. There are marches, readings of the names of the victims, services, Torah scroll readings, and more.

I wrote not too long ago about how I have always felt distanced from the Holocaust, and I think that it is something that many converts struggle with. Though, there have been and are those who convert because of their closeness to the Holocaust -- a feeling of remorse, regret, sympathy, humanity. For me, I've read about the Holocaust in more ways than I can count, and I always promised myself I would not involve myself in Holocaust studies because those I've met who are actively involved tend to be cynical and sarcastic about life and the general human condition. I've read the books, the laments of "Where was G-d?" And I have no answers, only questions, and I'm comfortable with that.

So today, I take a brief moment to mention someone who shares my name who sacrificed herself during the Shoah to save others.

Chaviva Reik was born as Emma in Shayo Hasso in Solvakia, and she grew up in Banska Bystrica the Carpathian Mountains where she joined the Hashomer Hatzair youth movement. She made aliya to Israel in 1939, where she joined Kibbutz Ma'anit and then enlisted in an underground military organization's parachutist unit. During this time there was a puppet government in place in Slovkia and an uprising was staged to coincide with the entrance of the allied forces, specifically the Red Army. But to squelch the uprising, the Nazis took Slovakia in 1944. After her training, Chaviva and several others waited in Italy to be parachuted into Slovakia, but because of the refusal of British authorities to send a woman behind enemy lines for military operations, she had to hitch a ride to the location with some U.S. pilots. Finally in Banska Bystrica, the group of parachuters set up soup kitchens, community centers, and helped Jewish kids escape to Hungary and on to Palestine. The group also helped rescue POWs. In late 1944, Nazis moved in and occupied Banska Bystrica, so the parachuting group and about 40 other Jewish partisans escaped and built a camp in the mountains but were captured within a few days by Ukrainian SS troops. About a month later, Chaviva and most of the others were shot by the Nazis, while others were sent to death camps. One, Haim Chermesh, escaped to Palestine. It wasn't until 1952 that Chaviva's remains, as well as those of the others, were returned and buried in Mt. Herzl military cemetery in Jerusalem. Now, Chaviva Reik's name adorns an institute, a ship, and numerous streets.

So here's to Chaviva Reik, on this remembrance of the Shoah. I tend to be more reflective about the Holocaust on Tisha B'av (which is in August), so perhaps I'll have something more to add then. But until then, here is a video of a memorial prayer for those lost to the Holocaust.



And perhaps, just one last thought, something to consider when we remember the Holocaust and the tragedies that have befallen Jew and non-Jew alike, a quote by the Jewish writer Sholem Asch, "Not the power to remember, but its very opposite, the power to forget, is a necessary condition for our existence."

A movie worth your time.

This is a movie worth sharing, and it's called Refusenik. The documentary film details the struggle to free Soviet Jews. From the film's website,

REFUSENIK is the first retrospective documentary to chronicle the thirty-year movement to free Soviet Jews. It shows how a small grassroots effort bold enough to take on a Cold War superpower blossomed into an international human rights campaign that engaged the disempowered and world leaders alike. Told through the eyes of activists on both sides of the Iron Curtain - many of whom survived punishment in Soviet Gulag labor camps - the film is a tapestry of first-person accounts of heroism, sacrifice, and ultimately, liberation.

You can check out the trailer by clicking here. It looks like it doesn't have an opening scheduled for Chicago, unfortunately, but check out the openings in your area!

At the Debate, the sights, the sounds.

Okay, so I thought about something I wanted to blog about this morning on the bus, and now I can't remember. I do remember, however, thinking "I will blog on something and then never blog about my experiences at the debate the other night, wahahahahaha" (though the evil laugh was in my head as I attempted to not nod off). But now I can't remember what it was, so I guess I'm back to square one.

The debate comprised a microcosm of Jewish society. There were Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, Reconstructionist, Chassidic, you name it, everyone was there. You had the women who were JAP-esque with their bleached blonde hair and fancy nails and jewelry and you had women sporting sheitels, scarves, and nothing at all. There was one woman who reminded me of the Mennonite women I would often see at Wal-Mart while working. There were women with fully covered arms, collarbones, and elbows, but who had skirts that were -- in my mind -- far too short for modest dress. When I was talking to the Kosher Academic about this, she reminded me that as long as it covered the knees, it was fine. But in my mind, well, it was quite short and flowy, and it barely brushed the knees. It seemed like an interesting, yet odd, dynamic for an Orthodox woman. Some of the sheitels were well groomed and you could barely tell it wasn't the woman's real hair, and then there were some that were disheveled as if tossed on at the last minute. Some scarves were wrapped beautifully, others looked like they were probably irritatingly wrapped. There were black hats and no hats, kippot in all colors and sizes. Tzitzit dangled freely on men in suits talking on BlackBerries and other men with simple black pants and white shirts. Children with curls, men with curls. The elderly and the collegian. It was definitely a beautiful scene of the Jewish community, all united to listen to two schmucks discuss politics and which candidate is "good for the Jews."

Afterward there were groups of men davening, first a group near the entrance, later a group near the door to the theater where the debate was. It was interesting to watch these men, as there were more than enough active in their prayers to make minyan, but men would saunter up, look around uncomfortably and then their lips would move, as if mumbling something. It was an interesting sight, of course, as it looked like many of the men joined in simply because, well, when there is davening, you daven -- secular or religious or not. But myself and the girl I'd just met looked on at the sight (a most involved, passionate prayer that, well, you don't see in most liberal shuls).

Overall, I felt really cozy and at home in the crowd. It was one of those "these are my people!" standing on a mountaintop and feeling refreshed kind of moments. I mean, it helped that the busride there involved passing several kosher bakeries and stores like Chaim's something or other and the Hadassah resale shop. I love that there is community, and I don't think it's a bad thing when communities create their own havens. It makes sense, really. A lot of people frown on groups of individuals who congregate (read: often called segregate) in a certain area and open shops and businesses that cater to their people. Think about (in Chicago anyway) the Puerto Ricans in Humboldt Park or the Indians up on Devon or the Ukranians in the Ukranian Village or the Jews in West Rogers Park. I mean, I think it's great. China town is looked at as a spectacle in so many cities, but it makes sense, and no one says "Why won't the Chinese integrate themselves! Why must they segregate!?" We go there on Christmas or to get manga or something and we don't wonder why the Chinese live in China town. I mean, there are people all over the city, spread here and there, but I understand the cohesive nature of communities of specific groups of people. And I have to say, I hope to live in such a community someday.

A potpourri of thoughts and things.

This is going to be a really schizophrenic post, as I have about a million things on my mind that I want to blog about, but my thoughts are pretty muddled right now. So I'm going to do as best I can to make each point quick, bulleted in a way (but not literally) so you, the reader, don't hate me later.

+ Yesterday on the bus I drove by a house with plastic Easter eggs dangling from each branch in bright colors. It automatically flashed me back -- in that crazy movie effects kind of way -- to my childhood in Joplin, Mo., when we used to do the same thing. It was *our* tradition. We stopped when we moved to Nebraska because we didn't have a tree. But in my mind Easter was always those eggs, dangling, and chocolate eggs filled with marshmallow. There was no religion, no Jesus, nothing. Just dangling plastic neon eggs.

+ My grandfather's yarzheit is Sunday. He died one year ago, and some of you may remember that I couldn't attend his funeral for lack of funds and timing. It still hurts me that I couldn't make it, and it's so strange to think it's been a whole year. It seems that I'm on a cycle of change every year, and this past year is no different -- everything, EVERYTHING, is different than it was a simple 12 months ago.

+ It turns out that the World Evangelical Association posted a full page ad in the New York Times stressing how much the Christian world loves Jews and apologizes for not doing enough in the past. It then goes on to talk about converting them all, or else, you know, the entire world will suffer hell and damnation. This whole "we love you, now convert or you're damning us all" thing is getting old. It's the world's oldest guilt trip and has resulted in the mass murder of Jews on dozens of occasions. If you tell the world that Jews are awesome, but they need to convert and they just won't, what's the logical answer? Well, if there are no Jews to convert, then the world is a better place. I mean,

We believe that it is only through Jesus that all people can receive eternal life. If Jesus is not the Messiah of the Jewish people, He cannot be the Savior of theWorld (Acts 4:12).

... believe away. Please, do. But your precursing this with an apology for the destruction of my people throughout millenia doesn't make this any more light hearted. I just. I guess I don't know how these two worlds are supposed to not collide. I know plenty of Christians (some who are my closest friends) who are perfectly happy and well-adjusted as Christians and have never, not once, "preached the Good Word" to me. Why can't *all* Christians be this way? Feel free to chime in, oh Christian readers. There's also a great blog post by Yair over at the JBC about his response to this statement by the WEA.

+ I realize that I haven't really given much of an update on life other than grad school stuff. So what can I say? There's a lot going on. Monday of this week was great and I felt wanted by everyone I wanted to feel wanted by. Then Tuesday cloud 9 started to slip out from under me and from then on it's just been frustrating. It took all I had to not call in sick today. I just wanted to sleep. I get this from my mother -- if you sleep, the depression and anxiety fade away, right? But I knew that wasn't my answer. There's issues with my parents and that ever-irritating car that is in my name (as are the loans) but that they have ownership of (and are making payments on). It's a crappy situation, and I want to be out of it. There's the grad school decision (that is almost fully decided) and other things like stupid crushes. There's also budding friendships and poetry writing, but it's all so benign and unnecessary for the rest of the world to know about, that it just isn't worth the hassle of writing about.

So there we are. There are just a few of the things. Just some of them. I like to think that when I write things down, they'll be removed fully from my thoughts -- like a tumor being carefully removed by small incisions from caring, well-trained hands. But most of the time, writing things down just creates more thoughts and I'm left at this uncomfortable divide where I can't block things out, but I can't handle them anymore (and that's where the sleep comes in). But even now, I'm not sleeping well (do I ever?).

Anyhow, be well friends.