A Tea-Venture to Boulder!

On Monday, my bestie Melissa and I headed up to Boulder for a day of merrymaking and fun-having by way of Celestial Seasonings and wandering around Pearl Street. It was a much-needed day of relaxing and chilling for both of us, but especially for Melissa who works her tush off 24/7 and rarely has time to breathe. I was glad to be able to whisk her away for some girly tea time.

Ahh! The Tea Room, possibly the coolest place on the entire planet. 

I want this on my wall. Now. Anyone know where you can buy this stuff? 

I have a sort of weird look on my face. Not sure what I was drinking, but trust that it was good.

Melissa was deeply upset to learn that her favorite tea NO LONGER IS!

Melissa took a photo of this art because it reminded us of her husband who was home sick. :)

You're lucky to even being seeing this photo. I HATE HAIRNETS!

We spotted this plate -- 10 | 20 -- while driving and couldn't stop laughing.
The windows said things like "pedicures" and "spa" and "M&M's" ... because ... yeah.

This is the gnarly store where I purchased my Ideal Woman necklace. You must purchase one. 

The day was topped off with a delicious dinner and a bath (that last thing was by myself, of course). I bought a lot of delicious tea, some jewelry, a tea bag holder, and the list goes on and on! It was an amazing time with a great friend, and it was much-needed. Huzzah!

Back and In Business

After a quick road trip to visit my awesome little brother Joseph (aka Joe, Joe-Joe, Broseph, Yosef, Josephina -- come on, he's nine years younger than me, I can get away with these things), I'm back up north and exhausted from the humidity and heat of South Carolina.

Lots of fun pictures to come! Any blog post requests?

The Roadtrip in a Nutshell

I'm back in New Jersey after a whirlwind week-long schlep to Nebraska and back. Our trip included some interesting stop-offs like Antique Archaeology (a.k.a. the home of TV's "American Pickers"), the World's Largest Wooden Nickel, a former bank robbed by Bonnie and Clyde, Freedom Rock, and, of course, Ken's Diner in Skokie, Ill., for a bit of kosher nosh. We visited the Omaha Zoo, which was amazing and included the Skyfari -- a ski-lift style ride over the expanse of the zoo, and we spent a bucketload of time hanging out with my nephews Oliver and Owynn. I made my parents dinner, and I got to spend some time with a few of my best friends from high school. And I can't forget to mention the beautiful sunsets and the 360-degree view of fireworks on the Fourth of July.

For oodles of photos from my trip, check out my Facebook Album! And check out this very brief video of the sleepy ones in action!

I have a lot to say about the trip, especially how it made me feel. I can't lie: the trip left me feeling kind of sad, but not in a nostalgic way. More like, why haven't I tried harder to keep in touch with people and keep up on their lives? When did I stop being a friend to my friends?

Growing Up & Getting Older.

This is a photo from ... maybe 2005? 2006? I don't remember. It's old. Just like us, now!

I hit the road to South Carolina around 5:45 a.m. on Monday from Teaneck, beating the early-morning traffic around the city. I turned the music up loud, chugged my Skinny Vanilla Latte, and watched the world fly by in my rearview mirror. I drove through Delaware and Maryland and North Carolina and part of South Carolina, and I knew when I had entered G-d's country: Ronald Reagan quotes on billboards and the "Pull off for porn here" billboards juxtaposed with "Have you been saved today?" ones just across the highway.

I stopped at a large Outlet Mall somewhere in North Carolina, popped into the local Lane Bryant and nabbed a new skirt. While checking out, I had to explain to the woman the difference in names on the cards and all that and she queried, glancing at my head scarf, "Did you change your name for religion or somethin'?" with a thick, curly twang. "Yup," I said, "I got married and converted to Judaism." Without much interest, but with a hint of "well, then ... " she said, "Well, isn't that just nice," handed me my bag, and wished me no pleasantries on my way out. It's easier for me to express the tone in person, with the language and the tone, but, well, perhaps you get the drift. As I left the store, two Muslim women were entering, and I almost issued them a "steer clear!" I almost wonder if my name gives off a hint of Middle Eastern-ness that doesn't say "Jew" to a non-Jewish or non-Muslim crowd. It's not an Esther or Miriam or Sarah or Elisheva or anything. Chaviva sounds to many like Habibi. Anyway ...

So I'm here in South Carolina, where I've been for the past two days, and tomorrow I pack up and ship back off to Teaneck. I am here visiting my little brother, although calling him that feels really strange now. Yes, he's nine years younger than me (surprise!), but he's not little anymore. I resisted a long time seeing him as a teenager, and now seeing him as an adult is even more difficult. He and his awesome girlfriend are sharing an apartment in town until they're able to move into campus to start the school year (which will happen in a few weeks), and at first I wanted to quip, "So how is playing house?" but after being here for two days and watching them cook each other dinner and clean up and do dishes and everything, I realize they're not playing. They're grown up. They buy groceries and watch movies and hug and snuggle and cook pasta in the meager pots and pans they have, but they make it work. And most importantly? They're happy. They're really happy. I'm almost jealous of their happiness. It's simple happiness, but they're really happy.

And it's about 5 million degrees and humid here -- not sure how anyone can function in those temps, but they do. And did I mention they're still happy? Sweaty and snuggly, they're happy.

If anything, being here with my brother and his girlfriend has made me miss my husband more than ever (this is, after all, the first time we've spent nights apart since being married in May). Yesterday we went to Myrtle Beach and roamed the beach, we watched fireworks, we schlepped the boardwalk. And the entire time I was thinking, Tuvia would love this. Vacations without your beloved kind of suck.

I never thought I'd be okay with Joe (that's the brother) getting older, but I think this short trip has helped me cope. I'm beaming with pride and joy in his accomplishments. He's a smart kid, he's always been smart, but his smarts have landed him some pretty sweet stuff here in South Carolina (a scholarship with a FREE computer attached!?), and he's living his life. He's doing his thing. He's living. He's grown up now. And I think that finally -- sof sof -- I'm okay with that. I love my little brother more than anything in the world, more than life itself. For all the hell I put him through as a child, he clung to me and nothing has ever come between the two of us; he is my closest relative, my most special soul. I don't know if he knows how much I adore him, but I think he has an idea. After all, I drove 12.5 hours just to see him.

And buy him sheets and a pillow for school, of course. What are sisters for, after all?

Life is a funny thing. I feel so old around him now. This kid, a man now, with a long-term girlfriend and name on an apartment lease and his own things and life. He's growing up, and I'm getting older. But I'm okay with it now. I have the pride of a million mothers for this boy-turned-man.

Now if I could just get him to cut his toenails ...

Stay tuned for lots of trip photos and me letting you know what it's like keeping kosher around non-kosher/non-Jewish family in a state with very, very, very few options that are not convenient at all. As a preview, check out this gigant fried flounder I got at Cafe M in Myrtle Beach!

Bon voyage!

Okay. I'm about 95 percent positive I'm going to leave my computer with Tuvia and not take it with me to Israel. I was gifted a notebook for journaling, and I think most assuredly that this is a sign (since I have another, as well) that I should be WRITING, not TYPING, my Israel experience. It'll be therapy for me -- someone so plugged in 24/7. But, you know, if there happens to be a computer there for my use? I'll whittle away at my likely ever-growing inbox, never fear. 

Catch you all on the other side of the trip! L'hitraot!

Hitting the Road, Jack!

In about an hour I'm hopping in a car with four other eager Jewish college students to trek to Crown Heights for the International Shabbaton there this weekend. We'll be eating Shabbos meals by family members of the Chabad rabbi on campus and partying it up Crown Heights style, I guess. There are several things I've had to think about in packing for the trip, and even though I got a 50-50 (yes-no) response on whether it was a faux pas to wear a Jean Skirt to the Shabbaton weekend, I've decided against it.

Why?

I don't know. I was browsing the web and found a ChabadTalk forum ranting and raving about how Jean Skirts should be banned (as they evidently are or were in Israel in some places) since they're not so tzinius. So whatever, I have plenty of skirts. Yes, people might look at me in a Jean Skirt and say "she's probably Modern Orthodox," but I'd rather not deal with anything that might make ME uncomfortable.

Don't get me wrong, I love skirts. I own more skirts now than I did pretty much my entire life. So it's a something, considering I used to be very anti-skirt in my pant-loving days of my youth (sort of never was a girly girl, that is, despite mom dressing me up in jumpers and homemade dresses crafted on her sewing machine).

At any rate, I think I'll have a lot to write about post-Shabbat.

Is it sad that when Shabbat rolls around the thing I worry about the most is my hair? You cookie-cutter Jewish girls with your long dark hair don't know how easy you have it! Yes, I might stand out and look hip and different, but on Shabbos morning? This do is a mess!

Shabbat Shalom, everyone!