I'm not sure that anyone really cares, but I had a good day yesterday. I like to think it was a very "Denver" kind of day, and that makes me happy. In pictures, I give you, A Simple Sunday.
I started the day by sleeping until noon, because I've been ill with some kind of stomach ailment. Luckily, I woke up feeling a whole lot better and went on my way. First stop? The Denver Bicycle Cafe for Yelp Office Hours.
I told the bartendress that I wanted whatever she recommended. So she suggested a delicious cup from Huckleberry Roasters. This was probably the most delicious cup of coffee I've ever had. I drank it black!
Yes, bike bells that advertise Yelp awesomeness. <3
Some of the Yelpers. I can't get over the vibrancy of that wall.
After sitting around the cafe for a while, a few of the Yelpers and I headed over to the Vegan Market, which unfortunately had slim pickens because we showed up too late. So I headed next door to the most awesome shop ever, Tellulah Jones, where I anticipated finding a cute gift to add to the growing package for my nephews' birthday.
Home with goods in hand, I got to cooking. The food? Snobby Joes (from Veganomicon) and Herbed Quinoa.
Everything prepped! Ready to go.
I hated Sloppy Joes growing up. But this? This is amazing.
I wish I had taken a photo of us eating this because, well, it was unbelievable. The most delicious thing I've had in a long, long time. After we noshed, Taylor and I headed out to Scruffy Murphy's to meet up with a few of his film friends and to partake in some on-the-house beers.
I caught him blinking. D'oh.
It was dead, because it was Sunday, but we didn't mind. Good drinks with good friends. And then? Home, to bed, to sleep.
It began when my parents purchased a computer in 1997. We got AOL, and for the first time in my life, I had instant messenger and access to the outside world. The big, bad, e-world of strangers. I remember meeting some kid online (okay, I was a kid too, at the ripe age of 13/14) who lived in Arkansas. We actually "dated" online, which was weird, because we'd never talked on the phone or in real life. Needless to say, it didn't last long, but it was my first true taste of what the World Wide Web had to offer.
I created a MySpace page, started a LiveJournal, and really got the flavor of chat rooms. I joined groups on LiveJournal, made random friends on MySpace, and started to become a pro in the world of early social media platforms. I was hooked, I was addicted. My dad had to put a time limit on my e-time, in fact, which kicked me off the web at 1 a.m. I was that hooked.
When I got to college in 2002, I didn't have a computer of my own. I relied on my roommate's computer to keep my LiveJournal very active, and I instant messaged there as well. Then, in 2003, I purchased my first desktop computer and my first cellphone (I was a little behind the game in the cellular department). My LiveJournaling took off and I met my first "real" online boyfriend (who, yes, I would later meet in real life and move in with while living in Chicago, actually), and I started to meet people In Real Life that I'd met online on MySpace (scary).
I joined Facebook the moment it was available at my university, got GMail when it first came out, and became a quick devotee of all things Google. In April 2006, I decided to venture away from my LiveJournal and start a real blog -- a topical blog, this blog. I stopped going to MySpace so much, and embraced Facebook in a serious way. I joined Yelp in 2007, and I took a real dive into the world of meeting strangers In Real Life that I only knew on the web. In January 2008 I joined Twitter, and I went to my first Yelp function where I met a boatload of strangers who were awesome and not scary at all. From that point on, I realized that Social Media and the e-world was more than meets the eye: it was a networking extravaganza of awesomeness and friendship.
In 2008 my blog really took off with followers, and since then I've managed to loop in tons of new readers, new Twitter followers, Facebook friends, and a degree of Social Media presence that earned me a #5 on the most influential Jewish Twitterers by JTA. I spoke at SXSW Interactive 2010 as an expert on Jewish social media, and I've been tapped to moderate a panel discussion next month in NYC at the Jewish Shmooze event. My blog is my top priority (after Tuvia, of course), and I feel guilty if I don't Tweet dozens of times every day. I try to keep up on Facebook, but it's hard sometimes.
You can find me on Yelp, LinkedIn, Twitter, MySpace, Facebook, Blogger, Daily Photo Booth, Flickr, YouTube, 12Seconds.tv, last.fm, Foursquare, and ... the list just goes on and on (I also have a lot of inactive, defunct spots like Brightkite, that are in my name).
Just Google "kvetchingeditor" and tell me what you find. I've branded myself, and that's a success story in Social Media. People know me by my handle, and because it floats across the web, I'm lucky that it's consistent.
Sometimes, I sit back and wonder whether it's all been worth it -- the amount of time wasted playing games on Facebook while waiting for my Twitter to update on Hootsuite or an email to come in from some connection about some function, and my overall conclusion is Oh oh oh YES!
All I have to think about is the people I've met and how they've enriched my lives. I can't count the number of Twitter and Blogging connections I've met In Real Life who have become my closest and dearest friends. Is it worth spreading my entire life all over the web and sharing my experiences with the most distant of strangers? Without a doubt.
That's what Social Media is about: selling yourself/your brand to complete strangers in the hopes of building lasting connections and creating important, life-changing conversations over a variety of web platforms that highlight user-created content.
Of course, it isn't for everyone. I got started on this all 13 years ago (man I'm old), and sometimes it feels too big even for me. But I wouldn't change my experiences for anything in the world. This is the future, folks. Embrace social media. It's the present and the future. Don't believe me? Watch this awesome video below (hat tip to @bryfy).
I've written a million times about names, the importance and significance of names, and the future I likely have as Chaviva E. The web world knows me as Chavi, and when I say the web world, I mean bloggers across the blog-o-sphere, people on Yelp (a review site I take part in), and even most recently I was featured on a Chicago Jew site with this moniker, meant to be permanent.
When I meet new people from the interweb in person (such as at Yelp events or when meeting friends of people on the web who know me via my blog or another blog), I'm always asked how I got my name, what it means, why I use it. I always explain that it means the same thing as my given name, which leaves the questioner wondering what the deal is with the given name. It's then that I explain that Chavi is my Hebrew name, which I chose, and that at some point will become my "permanent" name. I usually get funny looks, but it typically surpasses the whole "listen, I'm a convert" bit, not to mention usually gets a nod and a "Well, that's a beautiful name." And we call it a day.
And until now, I haven't had anyone say flat out that they REFUSE to call me Chavi.
See, there are those (family, exes, friends from the past) who will always know me as Amanda and will probably call me as such, and that's just fine. No problem at all. But most of those who are still very close to me (in the friend category) and understand and respect my choices are more than happy to integrate Chavi into their lexicon. One of my closest chums started calling me Chavi on his own accord, and it means the world to me. There are those on Yelp who knew me first as Amanda and then as Chavi and they flip back and forth, but are always careful to say "Which do you prefer?" and then go by that.
But today, someone essentially said they refuse to call me Chaviva. This person, ironically, is a Jew.
It seems that lately I've run into several Jews who just can't handle me. I'm too much Jew, I'm over-Jew-ing it. I'm Jew Jew Jew all the time. I was even accused of trying to convert the masses (what the hell?).
Now, when it comes down to it, I really don't care. I don't need every Jew on the planet to accept me, and I guess if my biggest problem right now is one Jew refusing to call me by my chosen, Hebrew name, then I'm doing pretty good.
I just wish I could understand why this person, who at one time welcomed me as a member of the tribe and treated me with the same respect as others, suddenly is unable to call me Chavi.
EDIT: So here's what this Jew has to say to me, flat out, in a public forum.
"Amanda, sorry, you'll never be jewish no matter how hard you try. I don't care if you change your name legally. I don't care if you go to shul every friday for the rest of your life. I don't care if you keep strict kosher rules. I really just don't care. You'll never be jewish. It's just not going to happen. It's not in your blood. Furthermore, I'm really just sick and tired of your holier-than-thou attitude."
Someone explain to me how people are allowed to keep their Jew card with this attitude? This person is just as bad as the ultra-Orthodox Jew who denies my Jewishness, except this person is on the other end of the spectrum. People never cease to amaze me in their ignorance, and they will eat the words they spew one of these days.
So I find that here at work, I spend a bulk of my time doing one of about four things -- Yelping, Twittering, Google Readering or Blogging. It's not the most productive thing in the world, but it's also why I've claimed Shabbat as my own e-free break from society. I rustle up the web during the week and get a day of rest to recline and detach. So as I spend the bulk of my day prowling, I come across a lot of interesting stuff, I think.
A Simple Jew linked to this entry on Cross-Currents by Jonathan Rosenblum about the Five-Star Pesach. It's just what you might expect, analyzing where the Pesach week is going, especially when you don't have to worry about cleaning since you can just spend the week at a resort, right?
I thought this was an especially interesting link to come across considering this morning an Orthodox friend and I were discussing Pesach. I was lamenting that I've really only had two Pesachs on record, and that accounts for three seders. My first seder was a Hillel seder and it really set the course for what I hoped seders were. It was interactive and full of discourse and delicious food. The second seder was a community seder in Omaha that was equally wonderful and had about 150 or so people, though it didn't feel huge. The last seder I went to was last year and it was the 20s/30s seder at my former Reform shul and it was a Chicago-wide celebration that drew hundreds of people. The seder, though, was not good. They didn't even have Kosher for Pesach soda, which was pretty shocking (though when I thought about it later, a shul that can't provide Kosher wine on Shabbat probably wouldn't provide Kosher soda on Pesach). I was lamenting to my friend that Pesach is only once a year. For new Jews it's hard to get the rhythm and the traditions and everything down when it comes only once a year. Shabbat? Oy. Shabbat is a cakewalk now compared to the once-a-year holidays like Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur and Pesach.
My friend was telling me how she has gone to the same seders at her in-laws for nearly a dozen years now. I was asking her whether the Orthodox community has community seders, and she didn't know. I'm guessing that the answer is no, except at these Five-Star Seders, that is. But it was definitely food for thought (badaching) and seeing that piece by Rosenblum seemed to fit in well.
I get really anxious around this time of year. I'm trying to plan out my Pesach week, making sure I buy everything I need so I don't resort to Matzo pizza for every meal, all week long (though I love, love, love matzo pizza). I've printed recipes, talked to my friend about her recipes, plotted gigantic quantities of kugel and charoset, and attempted to create a plot for recipes. But I'm just so horrible about planning ahead. I sometimes wish there *were* someplace I could disappear to for a week to just have all the chametz-free food there, easy as pie. Though, I will mention said friend did offer to make a little extra of her dishes to send my way, and this, well, is a blessing indeed.
At this time of year, though, I find myself worried that I'm going to mess up. That I will forget a certain quirk about Pesach and will end up noshing something secretly laden with chametz. This is why this year I'm shopping in the Kosher for Passover section of the Jewel. Hekshered items are, well, a little easier on the mind I guess. So far, though, I've only procured one box of matzo and one box of matzo meal and one box of the matzo ball soup mix. I need to get to town.
I read yesterday that Chassidim do not mix their matzo with water -- AT ALL -- on Pesach. They eat it only in its most pure form. Now, I don't know about you, but this seems like a difficult endeavor. I also wonder whether smearing cream cheese on a piece of matzo or something similar is even allowed? Since liquid would meet matzo. And the charoset? It has liquid in it, thus, when it hits matzo it would be forbidden, nu? So much I don't know! And this is the girl without a seder plate to her name, not to mention a matzo cover. Sigh.
On that note I was reading a few of the essays that came in my 60s Essays for 60 Years booklet I got at the debate the other night and was constantly reminded how much I need to learn about Hebrew, Jewish history, religiosity, spirituality, tradition, culture. It's so much, so vast. It just keeps multiplying! With every little bit I learn, there is a little bit more. It's almost frustrating at times, but at others it's such a blessing to have this never-ending possibility of learning.
So I'll continue to plan my Pesach week meals with the knowledge that sticking to a plan will be easier for me in the long run. I'll save some coin, maybe lose some weight, and hopefully after I get the meals figured out I can sit down and really consider what Pesach is and means. Until I get around to that, though, go read what True Ancestor has to say about Pesach over on his blog.
Well. The truth is often a hard pill to swallow, and this has been one of the hardest. Nay, most frustrating. Nay, most infuriating. This bl...
On Jews
He has made a marvellous fight in this world, in all the ages; and has 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 peoples 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?
