Yummy Torah Goodness from Kol Menachem!

Back in late 2009 and early 2010, I had the pleasure of working on an amazing project with Kol Menachem Publishers, which most of you are probably familiar with from their publication of the Gutnick Chumash. I had the pleasure of encountering the brains behind the operation, Rabbi Chaim Miller, back in 2008 when I attended the Chabad Shabbaton in Crown Heights (I wrote about it, too!), and we struck up a friendship and professional interest -- with him having upcoming projects and me being a trained copy editor.

When Rabbi Miller reached out with a new project -- The Lifestyle Books: The Five Books of Moses -- I was intrigued personally and professionally and hopped on the project without skipping a beat. Over several months, I worked as part of a team to help do some nitty gritty editing, and then sat back to wait for it to come to fruition in printed form. Lucky for you and me, it's been published!

When I was working on the project, I had no idea what the aesthetics were going to be for this particular book, and when I got a final copy of the book, I was blown away. As someone who grew up with illustrative and informative versions of the Bible (that, after all, is how Christians layout their Bible, giving color and stories a place within the text for text-study and being fully informative), this version of the chumash provides something that no other before does.

With a charming, colorful presentation, multiple strands of commentary and groundbreaking, interactive features, the Lifestyle Books Torah transforms the text into an experience-personalized, engaging and happening now. Its goal is to uncover the spiritual potential and human relevance in every line.

There is a full Hebrew text, a translation that makes the Bible so much easier to comprehend, a personalized running commentary that gives voice to "hundreds of Jewish thinkers and mystics, in a chorus that will speak to your life," as well as spiritual "treats" on every page, including "Kabbalah bites" that offer meditations, insights, and "Food for Thought." You can find a full sample of the Lifestyle Torah by clicking here. 

It's the kind of Torah that makes you ask questions, stop and consider, and not race through the parshah and haftarah portions. Here's what I sent Rabbi Miller upon receiving and looking through the Lifestyle Torah and its companion Prayers for Friday Night (which, by the way, is crazy amazing, too):

It turned out so beautiful, the aesthetics are truly unlike any other version I've seen, so I have to hand it to your design team. There's so much to read, and I really like the insights, kabbalah tidbits, and discussion points. Basically, I'm a huge fan. And the Friday-night companion? That's outstanding.

The companion offers explanation, insight, and even dates for when certain prayers became part of the lexicon of the siddur. Soon, Rabbi Miller hopes, there will be a full-on companion in the Lifestyle Torah collection that moves beyond simply Friday Night. Check out a full sample of the Friday Night companion here. 

There's Hebrew AND English, so don't let this scare you!

I've always been a sucker for the Gutnick chumash, but there's something about this volume of the Lifestyle Torah that just offers those very simple and thought-provoking insights that we all crave when studying the weekly Torah portion. 

If you're interested, head over to Kol Menachem and pick up your own copies of the Lifestyle Torah and the Friday Night companion!

Was I Born for Boulder?

Oh Colorado! You with your sloping valleys and winding mountain roads, your heavy snowfall and sunny days melting it all away. Your coffee shops and head shops, your dispensaries and book stores. How I love you, let me count the ways!

There's something about Colorado that has made me feel better, happier, healthier, wiser. It's like breathing has become easier and my skin doesn't feel so tight around my bones. Even in the thinnest of mountain air, while watching deer rest under pine tree branches, I feel like I'm not breathing borrowed air, stale air, boxed-up and packaged-in air.

At times, I'm almost more cognizant of my Jewish self than I was before. With that said, there's still this void, and I feel it most during Shabbos. When I first came to Colorado I took up with the rest of the crowd in my community and ended up at DAT Minyan, and I visited BMH-BJ a few times as well. At first it was comfortable, and then it wasn't. I can't explain it, but the longer I'm here the longer I long for the Orthodox community I knew back in Chicago or West Hartford. There's something about those communities and their mixed multitudes (the good kind) that made Judaism seem so much more varied, diverse, exploratory, confusing, beautiful, bright, growing.

So, at the invitation of Rabbi Goldfeder and his wife up in Boulder (if you recall, I wrote about his book recently, and if you haven't purchased it and you're married, then I insist that you procure it post-haste), I spent this past Shabbos with their family and the community. I had been invited up before but some work drama and family drama and life drama kept me from visiting, so I was elated to make the trip this time around.

I arrived within minutes of candle lighting thanks to a turn-around on the way, but I got there, zipped to my humble abode and got ready for Shabbos. I stuck around with the kids (three, beautiful, awesome, intelligent, hilarious, loving kids, by the way) and the rabbi's wife Ketriellah for the evening and got to know the family a bit, and then a big group arrived and the Shabbos table was full for the evening. The variety and diversity of people -- Israelis, former Israelis, locals and their families -- made for an interesting conversation and a great meal that was, by the way, GLUTEN FREE! Yes, everything (save the challah the rabbi made) was deliciously gluten-free. I was instantly sold on moving in. I wonder if they'll have me?

Saturday morning I woke up incredibly late and schlepped off to shul, which is sort of in half of a home that has been converted, and the sanctuary is just downright cozy. The moment I stepped out of the rabbi's house, I was greeted by a gray sky and snowy mountains in the not-so-distant distance. Can you imagine waking up every day and seeing the mountains right there?

At the shul, the mechitzah hangs curtain-style from the ceiling with beautiful silver ringlet chains, there are brightly colored carpets and artwork, comfy chairs, seforim everywhere, and even a nifty little container with all of the spices and incense used at the Temple. Very, very great atmosphere. And when I walked in, the group was waiting for a few more men for minyan for the Torah reading, so there was sort of a group-study going on, which actually, honestly, I thought was pretty amazing. Walking through the Torah and hearing feedback and comments from the group of men and women is sort of how I picture a group of Jews spending their Saturday morning.

Thinking. Talking. Asking. Exploring. All orbiting the weekly parshah.

We davened Mussaf, and then the room was cleared and everyone helped set up for kiddush, which, by the way, was pretty much all gluten-free friendly! (Did I mention I was in heaven?) We walked home to a warm meal, some reading time (and I got a neck massage from one of the Goldfeder daughters -- she's a pro at the ripe age of six, seriously), and then preparation for the third meal.

And in the midst of it all, it began snowing.

The third meal was filled with the sound of Hebrew (many Israelis were there) and children running amok in the basement. We talked about what it means to be a chosen people, among other things, and I felt like my Shabbos was complete. The sky darkened and all of the kids and guests gathered for havdallah, and then the rabbi busted out his guitar for some Shavua Tov-ing song-style.

I know I only spent about 25 hours in Boulder within the small Jewish community there, but I feel like the aura of the community, the people, the place ... there's something about it. I know so many people who would fit in so perfectly with Rabbi Goldfeder and the intelligent curiosity and belief that is ever-present there. It's something I haven't felt in a long time. And those of you who have searched near and far for a place where you fit Jewishly understand what that means, what that feeling feels like.

So I had an amazing time. I felt, for the first time in a long time, like my Shabbos meant something, like there was a tangible spark in my soul that I could walk away with and start the new week with.

Perhaps the funniest thing about it all is that the community I was in was an Aish community -- and those of you who have read me a long time know about my history with Aish. But there's something about this Aish rabbi and community that has something bigger to offer than is being expressed and understood in the greater Colorado community. (Check out the Boulder Aish Kodesh site here.)

If only I lived in Boulder, eh?

Also: If you want to see the beautiful hamsa that marks the gate for the shul, just Google Map and Street View 1805 Balsam Avenue, Boulder, Colorado!


EDIT/NOTE: So it turns out that Boulder Aish Kodesh is not tied to the large organization Aish HaTorah! Well that explains a lot. 

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!

I Cooked: Enchiladas!

I cooked! I have to say that I'm pretty proud that over the past month, I've made as many meals as I did when I was living on my own back in Chicago and fell in love with cooking. Veggies and spices and kitchen messes oh my! Taylor is quite the health-nut veggie like me, so it makes meal-planning and eating a lot more exciting knowing that I can finally share my food with someone!

Tonight was Creamy Spinach Enchiladas with a Red Cabbage Salad. I revamped the original recipe, which was dairy, to make it vegan (parve) and, luckily, it's gluten-free if you buy the right kind of corn tortillas!

Ingredients
10 corn tortillas, warmed (the recipe called for eight, but I had filling for 10)
10 oz. frozen, chopped spinach thawed and drained
1 cup frozen corn kernels, thawed
1.5 cups Daiya vegan cheddar cheese (original recipe was regular cheddar)
1 cup So Delicious Original Coconut Creamer (original recipe was regular heavy cream)
2 cans green chiles
salt
pepper

Directions

1. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. 
2. In a large bowl, mix together the thawed spinach, corn, one can green chiles, and 1 cup of the Daiya cheese. 
3. In a small bowl, mix together the creamer, one can green chiles, and 1/4 tsp of each salt and pepper. 
4. Heat up the tortillas. 
5. Place about 1/3 cup mixture in each tortilla and roll. Place seam-side down into a shallow baking pan. 
6. Pour the creamer mixture over the top of the enchiladas and top the entire dish with remaining 1/2 cup of Daiya cheese. 
7. Cover with foil and bake for 10-15 minutes until sauce is bubbly. Remove foil and cook another 5-10 minutes. (Daiya cheese won't brown, but regular cheese will.)
8. Enjoy!

For the salad, take a large red cabbage and quarter it. You'll need about 4 cups of thinly sliced red cabbage, which is about 1/4 of a large cabbage, and two thinly sliced scallions. Throw the cabbage and scallions into a bowl with 2 Tbls olive oil, 2 Tbls fresh lime juice, and 1/4 cup papitas (I just used regular sunflower seeds). Mix up with a bit of salt and pepper, and eat!

I'm whipping up a simple dessert right now: Blueberry Crisp Ramekins. Some blueberries, sucanet, gluten-free flour, topped with Udi's Gluten-Free Original Granola. Thatsit. Bam.

Edit: It's done!

Goodbye, Goodbye 2011!

January 7, 2011 -- Before things got really bad.

Well folks, it goes without saying that 2011 was probably the worst year of my life on this here planet earth. That's 28 years and three months of life, folks. Alternatively, one could argue that it was a year full of incredibly painful lessons that one hopes will lead to a better, happier life experience.

A crippling depression that went largely unnoticed on this blog (what can I say, I put up a good front) that left me in the darkest place of my life. Being here, able to write this, is something that a year ago I did not foresee. Divorce. Leaving an academic program that left me unsatisfied. Moving more than halfway across the country. Falling back into a debt that I'd avoided for so long because life stopped and restarted. Watching my family fall to pieces and losing the right to be a daughter.

So much in such a short space. I wonder how I got here, why I got here, why I didn't fall into oblivion into the dark place that took me for so many months.

And then I remember the positives of 2011. I went to SXSW Interactive for the second time in March. I spent the best three weeks of my life in Israel back in June (save for the Shavuot incident). I ended up in Denver, where the air has given me a calm and peace that I haven't experienced in years. I discovered that the love that people say they have for me is genuine, that I do have friends, that I do have something to offer people, that I am more than the sum of the thoughts of those who have pushed me down.

There are people that saved my life, time and again in 2011. My Yiddishe Mama, The Gelt, Kate, The Rebbetzin That Redefines, Cesar, My Little Brother, and the list goes on and on.

I won't make resolutions or even goals for 2012, because if there's one thing that 2011 taught me, it's that life changes in the blink of an eye, whether we like it or wish to accept it. Maybe it's something that happens with getting older, but the instance of change hits a lot harder and leaves more bruises than it does when you're younger.

So here's to 2012. May there be only peace, light, and answers for us all in this new (Gregorian) year!

Get it!? Light! Lantern?! Come on! Happy New Year!
Photo from November 14, 2011 -- A happier Chavi!

---

Also, from 2011, my January 1 post that details my earliest "When did you know?" memories regarding my choice to be Jewish.

Food Goes MoShY!

Growing up, there were always staples in the family fridge, and they're all foods that I associate with my father. Pears, apples, shelled hardboiled eggs, tomatoes (which I now know aren't supposed to go in the fridge, but that my father would slice up and eat with a dash of salt). In the cabinets you could always find canned tuna, Hamburger Helper, pasta, pasta sauce, velveeta, and every other Middle America staple there is. Without fail, certain things were always there. We were a meatloaf-eating, pork cutlet-cooking, steak-burning family. As an adult with what my friend Dan says is a really unbelievably healthy kitchen, I have acquired the same kitchen staples mentality except in my kitchen, a kosher vegetarian kitchen, it's all about the vegetables and fruits.

Wild Rice, Basmati Rice, Brown Rice, a variety of lentils, polenta, agave, natural unsalted peanut butter and cashew butter, tons of spices (especially those of the Indian variety), canned pumpkin and sweet potatoes, pistachios and other nuts, every type of gluten-free four you can imagine (rice, almond, the blend). In my fridge you'll find -- without fail -- kale and other leafy greens, chia seed, flax seed, and on my counter there are always pears, butternut and acorn squash, tomatoes, lemons and limes.

I'm sort of a health nut these days I guess. A vegetarian nutjob.

Although, I take that back. Over Shabbat dinner this past week, I discovered there's actually a name for what I am -- MoShY. (Mad props to @melschol and hubsters.) For those of you (like me formerly) who aren't in the know, that's "Meat on Shabbos and Yom Tov."

Yes, it happens. Despite my kitchen being all veggie (and practically vegan since I live on Daiya vegan cheese these days), I do eat meat when I'm invited out for Shabbat, mostly because I feel bad laying all of my weird food things on people.

Gluten free

No white potatoes

Please no white rice

No meat

It seems like a huge pain, right? When people invite  you over, you can't expect them to bend to your every allergy, and so far I've only experienced one Shabbat where I was pretty much unable to eat anything that was served except the salad. But I've experienced too many accidental gluten consumption incidents to be as gentle about my restrictions as I used to. Lucky for me, I really don't get invited out much and the friends who do consistently have me over are willing to deal with my crazy. But, like I said, I eat meat when I'm with them.

Why the emphasis on me eating me out of simplicity and not religious necessity? Well, there are those that hold that it's significant if not mandatory to consume meat on Shabbat. Why? A Chabad.org Q&A article points to the notion that we're supposed to call the Sabbath a "day of delight" from Isaiah. For the rabbis of the Talmud, the article says, this meant food and drink, because in the days of yore, food and drink -- especially wine and meat -- were things that were special, expensive, a treat. However, the Shulchan Aruch HaRav ultimately says,

There is no obligation to eat meat or drink wine on Shabbat. Rather, since it is assumed that most people take more pleasure in eating meat than in other foods, and in drinking wine more than other drinks, therefore they should increase in [consuming] meat and wine according to their means.

For someone like me, who doesn't garner great joy in consuming meat, I suppose this means that for me, to delight in food and drink on Shabbat would consiste of some delicious Ethiopian Lentils and a big cup of coffee! But then there's this article over on Chabad about Judaism and vegetarianism that, after explaining various takes on meat-eating in Jewish literature, says, "According to this approach, it may be cruel to not eat meat, because doing so robs the animal of its chance to serve a higher purpose." I don't buy that explanation, but feel free to read the entire article and let me know what you think. If everything has the ability to be uplifted to serve a higher purpose, then isn't a cow doing more by consuming lots of vegetation over a lifetime than by being killed and consumed in one quick meal?

So, at any rate, I'm MoShY! For now, anyway. It just makes life easier. Are you a member of the MoShY tribe? What do you think about Jews, meat, and vegetarianism? 

Pretending I'm Colombian

One of my best friends in the entire world is Cesar. He doesn't like being put in the public eye, and the fact that he even let me take a picture of the two of us during his Colorado adventures recently is a breakthrough (sorry, Cesar, I know I didn't tell you I'd be putting it here, but, you know, it's relevant).

Cesar was telling me about a tradition in Colombia for New Years that I think will be very therapeutic and cathartic considering how absolutely rotten 2011 has been for me. The tradition?

Burn Año Nuevo: An effigy on the name of the Old Year is made, which is called as Año Nuevo. It is tied up with fireworks, and at the point of the clock ringing twelve, it is burnt. Also, people write their faults, or any feared bad luck on a piece of paper and throw it in the burning effigy. According to beliefs, doing so ensures liberty from all past troubles, sins, and mistakes, as well as bad luck.

Evidently, people build full-size effigies of themselves, dress them up in clothes from the year, and burn them in order to wish away the craptastic things that happened. There's even a business for making small versions of effigies that are safe to burn on a balcony or in city spaces, so I'm probably going to go this route. I had some clothes I was going to donate that I don't wear or don't fit, so perhaps I'll make a little Chavi out of newspaper and dress her up 2011 style. 

Do you have any particularly interesting traditions for the Gregorian New Year? 

Man-O-Manischewitz!

Oh Manischewitz! Probably the most recognized "Jewish" brand out there, Manischewitz is hosting their annual Man-O-Manischewitz Cookoff! The quick and dirty?

Create a wonderful original recipe using Manischewitz Ready To Serve Broth and one other Manschewitz product for a chance to win $25,000 in prizes, including Maytag® Appliances and the opportunity to fly to the New York finals to compete in front of Celebrity Chef Claire Robinson. Top entries will be judged in the Manischewitz test kitchen and then you, America, will vote in the 5th and final finalist.

If you're not familiar with Chef Clarie Robinson, she's the host of the awesome cake competitions on The Food Network and has her own cooking show, too. But I know that it's the $$ and the appliances that have probably sparked your fancy, right? Well ...

The GRAND PRIZE winner receives $15,000 worth of state-of-the-art Maytag® Appliances. PLUS, Manischewitz throws in a $7,000.00 check and a gift card to your favorite grocery store to get more Manischewitz products! Prize includes installation that does not require structural alterations to existing kitchen layout. Overall, more than $25,000 worth of prizes will be awarded in the contest. All Finalists will win a trip to New York City for the exciting Cook-Off showdown.

Simply head over and enter your recipe for a chance to win! And if you're one of those "rules" people, you can find those here and FAQs (like age limits and ingredients limits) can be found here.

I guess if I entered and won I'd have to give away my appliances since I'm a renter. Now that would be the ultimate blog giveaway, right?

I'm thinking about some kind of delicious vegetarian stew ... what's on your mind?

The Big Reveal

Note: If you want to respond to the content of this post, please post in the comments. Any emails sent to me privately on this topic will be posted in the comments section, with or without the author's permission. I'm trying to keep people's comments/feelings on this public so I don't drown in negativity and criticism that surely will arise, as this is a tenuous and potentially life-altering post. 


Well, my banner gives a hint: I'm rebranding -- both the blog and myself. A lot of people (looking at you @Mottel) believe that people aren't brands, but other people (looking @jeffpulver here) believe that people are and can become brands. Whether I intended it or not, I am my brand and my brand is me. I'm Chaviva, the Kvetching Editor, and this blog is the face of that brand. Do I include every minute detail of my life here? No, gosh no. If I did, y'all would be overloaded and I'd end up looking like some narcissistic lunatic. That being said, I've always prided myself on honesty, forthrightness, and truth.

I was speaking with my therapist today, after several weeks of throwing things around in my head whether this post was going to happen. With that note up top there and with what I'm going to say, this post will serve as therapy for me, and I hope it will take the weight that I'm "hiding" something off my shoulders. I'm a firm believer that if you don't inform on your brand, someone else will, and that's how gossip and lashon hara begins.

I am a Jew. I don't fit in a box, and although I tried very hard after my Orthodox conversion to throw myself into the tidy box of Orthodoxy -- Get Married, Move to a Big Orthodox Community, Have Only Orthodox Friends, Dress the Part, Wear the Headcovering, Go to the Mikvah, Live and Breathe the Box of Orthodoxy -- it didn't work. My marriage failed, my life shook, and I uprooted myself to Denver where I now feel more like myself than I have in a good three years.

Slam Poetry. Music. Film. Writing. Smiling. Laughing. Feeling at peace in my own skin -- except, of course, when others send me emails or texts or chats telling me how I'm letting down the people who look to me the most as a beacon of conversion to Orthodox Judaism. I'm made to feel guilty for feeling happy.

And why am I happy? Why am I really happy? Because unexpectedly, in early November, while sitting at the local Starbucks (a shonda!) doing work, a fellow walked up to me and asked to sit down. While he stepped away, I fled. I was just divorced, I was pretty sure he wasn't Jewish, and I think he was hitting on me. Then, time and again I went into that Starbucks and we struck up a friendship. That friendship over movies and ridiculous YouTube videos and existentialism and family/emotional drama and our love of rodents and books and music and everything else led to now: I'm dating this fellow. His name is Taylor, and Taylor is not Jewish. Taylor's what he likes to call an agnostic-atheist, meaning that he respects everything that I believe but that he doesn't buy into any of it. Has it resulted in any contention? Not really, no. He leaves me to my Shabbat observance, recognizes my kosher-keeping, and the fact that we're both vegetarian (okay, so I eat meat when I go to @melschol's house) makes cooking for each other at my place a breeze. Right now, he's perfection for me. He makes me laugh, he makes me smile, he makes me feel okay being me.

Yes, I've taken to eating out at the two popular local vegetarian/vegan restaurants -- City O City and Watercourse. I can get my weird vegan kosher Daiya cheese, plenty of vegetables, and a bounty of gluten-free options in a city where the only kosher "restaurant" holds a monopoly on the kosher business and serves subpar food (want to open a kosher restaurant? sorry! it can't be anywhere near the one that exists -- va'ad rules). But guess who thinks it'd be cool to open a kosher vegetarian restaurant? Taylor. Go figure, eh?

What else should I put out there?

I've reconsidered having children, I've reconsidered marriage. The children thing has a lot to do with family things that are too private for me to detail here, and the marriage thing has a lot to do with, well, being married and it going so horribly.

Yes, I know what you're all thinking/saying: Chavi, you just went through a tumultuous time, this is to be expected, don't count anything out! Or perhaps, Chavi! Just go to Israel and study in seminary and figure out your Jewish self there! Oh I know, some of you are even thinking Chavi, you're rebounding! It'll all get better once you meet a nice Jewish boy.

And perhaps all of those point are valid, but I've heard them from every angle. Rationalize things all you want, but this is who I am right now and this is how I'm happy right now. The truth is, I don't think I ever fit into the clean Orthodox box I thought I did. I wanted to, I tried so hard, but the Orthodox I fell in love with and the Orthodoxy I practiced were two different things. It doesn't make my past posts any less valid or significant, and I hope people still read and learn from them. I'm a Jew. An underconstructionist, rebranding Jew.

I'm still kosher, I'm still shomer shabbos. I still believe firmly in everything that makes Judaism work and functional. Torah m'Sinai. The important thing is that I'm not letting myself stop. Some of you may think I'm regressing, pouring into the plight of intermarriage and diluting the Jewish pool. And you'll think what you will, and I'm okay with that. I've come to peace with it.

This is my derech. My derech to which HaShem is privy. In the end, yes -- I'm a public figure, people associate and look up to me, I impact lives -- but at the same time I'm a person who is just as confused and searching as everyone else. The difference is that I've forced myself into the public eye and have to continue to stay true to myself and my readers.

As always, this is just the beginning. I'm going to let my haters be my motivators this time.

I Believe, With Perfect Faith. Do You?

Without explanation or interpretation, these 13 Principles of Faith, enumerated by Maimonides, are my credo. I am a Jew, this is my credo, and labels are the fire that will destroy us.

That flame inside you, that burns bright, is your neshama. Use that fire for good, for tikkun olam, for love and community, not hatred, judgment, lashon hara, or to put yourself above others.

1. I believe with perfect faith that G-d is the Creator and Ruler of all things. He alone has made, does make, and will make all things.
2. I believe with perfect faith that G-d is One. There is no unity that is in any way like His. He alone is our G-d He was, He is, and He will be.
3. I believe with perfect faith that G-d does not have a body. physical concepts do not apply to Him. There is nothing whatsoever that resembles Him at all.
4. I believe with perfect faith that G-d is first and last.
5. I believe with perfect faith that it is only proper to pray to G-d. One may not pray to anyone or anything else.
6. I believe with perfect faith that all the words of the prophets are true.
7. I believe with perfect faith that the prophecy of Moses is absolutely true. He was the chief of all prophets, both before and after Him.
8. I believe with perfect faith that the entire Torah that we now have is that which was given to Moses.
9. I believe with perfect faith that this Torah will not be changed, and that there will never be another given by G-d.
10. I believe with perfect faith that G-d knows all of man's deeds and thoughts. It is thus written (Psalm 33:15), "He has molded every heart together, He understands what each one does."
11. I believe with perfect faith that G-d rewards those who keep His commandments, and punishes those who transgress Him.
12. I believe with perfect faith in the coming of the Messiah. How long it takes, I will await His coming every day.
13. I believe with perfect faith that the dead will be brought back to life when G-d wills it to happen.

Happy Chanukah to those who believe in me, believe with perfect faith in HaShem, and to those who have no clue what to believe. Without judgment, without exception, we all have our own path and no one can tell you that your path is wrong -- only HaShem can guide you. 

Getting Help: Books You Can Trust II

Ahh, I love two-part posts. I first posted earlier this week about Rabbi Goldfeder's "Relationship 1:1" and now it's on to the second book that hit my doorstep thanks to the rabbi-author's publicist. Read on!

Life is Great!
Revealing the 7 Secrets to a More Joyful You!
By Rabbi Yitz Wyne

I was always a sucker for Why Bad Things Happen to Good People -- it got me through some really craptastic times. It seems as though these helpful books were coming out of the woodwork over the past few months, giving me food for thought and some wisdom with which to run.

Rabbi Wyne's book is, to put it simply, an eyesore. I say that because, well, you can see the cover, and it screams of "I AM A CHEESY JEWISH SELF-HELP BOOK!" with its sunshiney rays and smiling rabbi. Rabbi Wyne is the founder and spiritual leader of Young Israel Aish Las Vegas, which also threw me for a loop because I didn't realize that Young Israel and Aish were bound up in any way, and he's also a popular radio personality on "The Rabbi Show" on AM 720 KDWN talk radio. With a radio show, six kids, a wife, and a congregation, it's no wonder perhaps that the book cover design was an afterthought. Or maybe it wasn't. Either way, if you can get by the "don't judge a book by its cover" bit, you should be fine.

The book is divided into chapters according to the seven "secrets" that Rabbi Wyne wants to share, which feels a little gimmicky to me. Why do self-help books always have to have "secrets" to offer up? Why can't the author say what he or she means and get on with it. Each chapter leads with the secret and a sunshine clip art, which grated on my nerves at the turn of each chapter. (Can you tell this book annoyed me?)

However! I read the entire book. In fact, I flagged probably 20 different things in it that I found particularly interesting or inspiring. I just wish someone would re-release this book with a new layout, getting rid of the "secrets" and the bad clip art and cover.

Some of the great takeaways?

• Happiness ratings are subjective || Rabbi Wyne explains how what might be a 7 on a scale of 1 to 10 for me might be completely different on a scale of 1 to 10 for someone else. Our scales are incredibly varied, so we can't and shouldn't compare our levels of happiness (21). 
• Happiness is a choice || "No one can 'make you' happy or 'make you' sad. The most others can do is create situations and environments that make it easier for you to be happy or upset, but ultimately the choice will be yours" (46). Amen, amen. Now to drill this into mine own noggin!
• Learn from your experiences || Rabbi Wyne quotes the Talmud, saying, "Who is wise? He who learns from everyone." The rabbi-author stresses that "Judaism doesn't view wisdom as accumulation of facts and formulas. Wisdom is a process that is acquired with a particular attitude" (90). I like it. It makes me wonder if I'm wise, however.
• The Passion Principle || I often wish I was a better waker-upper in the morning, but I often roll around, sometimes for hours, lamenting my lack of sleep or poor sleep and bemoaning getting up. Rabbi Wyne discusses the importance of being passionate about something as it gives life meaning and purpose. He says, "This concept is so important that in Jewish tradition the very first law that is stated in the law books is to 'strengthen yourself to wake up every morning like a lion, to serve your Creator" (137). I need to find my inner lioness, methinks.

I have to give mad props to the rabbi-author for crowd-sourcing a question on Facebook and using some of the responses in his book (99-100). On a negative note, however, I found the rabbi's discussion about how you should "Expect nothing from anyone else. Don't expect gratitude. Don't expect kindness. Don't expect loyalty" as a bit harsh. He goes on to say, "The more we expect from others, the more we will be disappointed" (104). What do you think? I feel like if I get married, I have the right to expect things -- emotions and otherwise -- from my spouse. In a job, one has the right to expect to be treated a certain way. Right?

Overall, this book has a lot of morsels of goodness that will make you tilt your head, go "huh," and think. Aesthetics aside, the rabbi-author offers a lot of personal insight, stories, and tales from his mentor as well. It's not as personal as some other books I've read, and it feels a little cheesy and forced at times, but if you're in a tough place, you can definitely walk away with some things to think about.

Read this book? Know the author? Let me know what you think!

Chanukah: 2003-Now

A Novel Idea Bookstore, Lincoln, NE || 2011

Back in 2003, at the urging of a friend, I went to A Novel Idea Bookstore -- my third favorite used bookstore of all time after Myopic in Chicago and the Antiquarium in Brownsville, NE -- and down the rickety stairs to this section pictured above: Judaica. It was there that I first bought Choosing a Jewish Life by Anita Diamant, and it was in front of this shelf of used books that my neshama arose from a weary sleep. The fire continues to burn bright, its shades of orange and red and yellow and amber waxing and waning each day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eight years ago, the first night of Chanukah fell on December 20; it was a Saturday. At that time, I wrote a lot about my dislike for Christmas and how it made me feel, and I kvelled about probably the first "Jewish" gift ever given to me, by my friend Melanie. It was a musical dreidel. I was a sophomore in college in Lincoln, Nebraska, and I knew I would be Jewish.

Seven years ago, the first night of Chanukah fell on December 7. By that point, I was a Jewish knowledge and observance machine. On December 6, I hopped on a city bus and schlepped over to a Walgreens near the Reform synagogue in order to buy my first menorah. It was a huge, important, ridiculous event for me. The next day, on the first day of Chanukah, I wrote:

Happy Hanukkah everyone! I bought my menorah, lit my candles, said my blessings, and then made some cookies that are shaped like driedels, megandavids, Judah Maccabee, shields, etc. Then I iced them, sprinkled them with blue and yellow sprinkles and brought them down to work. They were literally gone in about 5 minutes. Everyone crowded around them ... it was an amusing sight. Interestingly enough, though, I recieved an e-mail from DAN, the PRES of HILLEL, at 5:45 (though I didn't get it till tihs evening) that they will be lighting a menorah in the J.D. Edwards Kaufman building (where just about every Jew on campus lives ... the "super honors program") each night of Hanukkah. ... Although I don't have the blessing memorized ... mrr. They know I'm a Jew-in-training anyhow. Heh. Did I mention that my Jews in the Modern World prof (Alan Steinweis) played the VIDLIT Yiddish lesson in class today. Oh man ... it was hilarious. I think I enjoyed it more than the rest of the class. Then again, I have a passion for the Yiddish. 

On December 9, 2004, I wrote:

Tonight, after lighting candles with Dan, Cliff and Sari in Kauffman hall ... I definately felt a part of something there with them. Lonely Jews in Nebraska, ha. But Dan sang the blessing beautifully ... Sari lit the candles, and Cliff and I stared on. It was good times.

Shortly thereafter I started working on a paper on why I want to be Jewish for the then-rabbi of the synagogue who subsequently left. I waited another nine months for another rabbi to work with me, and by then I'd mastered so much. I converted Reform in April 2006 and in December 2006 I was in Washington D.C. for Chanukah; I made this video and wrote a lot of blog posts. 

Back in 2007, Chanukah was incredibly awesome, and then Christmas came and it was bad. A little old man accosted me while I was busy at work at the Spertus Museum's open house for Jews on Christmas. If you want to read it, I think it can give you some insight into what it's like to be a non-Orthodox convert.
And then? From 2008 up until last year, I was in Israel for Chanukah. It was a unique, mind-boggling experience where I felt so much like myself. No Christmas tunes, no expectations, just lots of latkes and sufganiyot and chanukiot everywhere. Walking up and down alleyways, menorahs dotted doorways and boxes outside of homes, parks and squares, restaurants even stopped what they were doing to light. In Israel, Chanukah feels right. In America? It feels strange. 
Perhaps it's because for the first time in so many years I'm back where I began, in Lincoln, Nebraska. Estranged from my mother, without a chanukiah, no latkes, no sufganiyot, nowhere to go. So for the sake of memory, I think, I might go over to that same Walgreens where I purchased my first chanukiah and buy another. Maybe when I get home I'll make Chanukah cookies or try out this Gluten-Free Sufganiyot recipe, but at least I'll be there with my chanukiah and my Jewish troll doll and all of my Judaica and my sunrise over the desert in Israel. 
It all began while I was living in Lincoln -- my Jewish journey, that is -- but it never stopped here, and I think that I've worn away all the memory that's here. 

Getting Help: Books You Can Trust

I love books. In fact, I just went on a book-buying binge, picking up some things by Michael Chabon, Cynthia Ozick, and Kurt Vonnegut, among others. But before I get to those, I have to write about a couple of books that arrived on my doorstep from some outstanding rabbi-authors (yes, for free, to review). Here's one review, and stay tuned for the other. Also, let me know if you've read either of these books or are familiar with the authors! I'd love your feedback

Relationship 1.1 
The Genesis of Togetherness: Tapping Torah's wisdom to fine-tune your marriage
By Rabbi Gavriel Goldfeder


Okay, I know what you're thinking: This couldn't have come at a worse time, right? I moved to Colorado and the rabbi-author of this book, Gavriel Goldfeder, who calls himself "alternadox" and runs Aish Boulder, shot me an email mentioning this book and inviting me up for Shabbat. The Shabbat plans fell through, and I haven't made it back up yet, but the book arrived and I spent this past Shabbat reading through bits and pieces of the book.

Yes, I could have used this book back in January when the proverbial feces hit the proverbial fan in my marriage for the first time, but I didn't have this book. In fact, I bought another book at the YU Seforim Sale earlier this year and dedicated myself to reading it with my ex-husband every night; it lasted about a week. There was something insincere and cheesy and dishonest about the book. But Rabbi Goldfeder's book?

A book in which the rabbi-author, seeking to help the reader find balance and peace in a marriage, quotes the movie Batman Begins and talks about balancing "me" with "we" as being akin to a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup can't be bad, right?

"No one ever dreamed that peanut butter covered with chocolate could produce one of the best selling candies of all time. We've got to be able [to] hold on to the essential ingredients of who we are while also blending and joining forces. It could be a huge hit!" (16).

So I dove in, reading the first few chapters and wishing that I had known Rabbi Goldfeder back when. I think my marriage would have ended sooner, before I fell into a deep hole of depression and despair that it took me months to crawl out of in order to get the courage to ask for a divorce. The book is set up so that for each parshah of Genesis there is a chapter. The rabbi-author gives you a brief synopsis of the portion, then leads you through the story and its relevance within marriage and a lesson or two that one can take away from the portion. Basically, his goal is to take you back to the beginning -- and he does so with style, grace, and humor, and he doesn't shy away from relating his own faults in marriage.

Like I said, I didn't read the whole book because, well, it was a hard topic to grasp being only about three months out of my marriage, all while knowing that my ex-husband -- from whom I split amicably -- already is engaged (mazal tov!). So, I'm passing the book on to the lovely Melissa over at Redefining Rebbetzin to get a presently married woman's take on the book. I know that if and when I get married again, this book will come to my aid many times (so she better give it back!).

I have to hand it to whoever designed the book, too, because there's something about the cover that is rare when it comes to Jewish books -- it's classy, it's universal, it's something I'd see on a bookshelf and want to read. Also, there's something about the font and layout that makes this book incredibly readable. If you know what I mean, you know what I mean. If you're not into aesthetics, then this means nothing to you. But it's an easily read 130 pages of text, no doubt.

Perhaps the bit that hit home the most, but also urged me to put the book down because of the emotional impact of the statement is the following from Chapter 2 "The Other" on Parshah Noach.

There is a spiritual handicap that plagues many couples. Selfishness is not the right word, as it implies awareness of another while prioritizing one's own needs. Self-absorption is closer to the point -- focused only on one's self, unaware of others. The only way the self-absorption can work (or seem to work) in a marriage is if the other person is willing to play the slave, ensconced in total devotion and surrender. (19)

Many of my readers and friends watched me become someone I wasn't during my marriage -- weak, meek, sad, lonely -- and I think that Rabbi Goldfeder hits on a point here that so many people face, and even after months of counseling, it was difficult if not impossible to break free of these roles.

Basically, we should all just be a lot more like Peanut Butter Cups. It's easy, right?

Are You Ready to Get Served?

This post is sponsored by Serve from American Express. Sign up for Serve and receive $10 credit towards your first use. Comment below within the next 7 days for your chance to win an extra $100 credit to your account! 

I love, love, love being a member of the Clever Girls Collective, because of all of the stellar opportunities for sponsored posts, which means you get to find out about new products and services and I get to, you know, do fun things for free!

I signed up for the Serve.com promotion and got picked, which meant that I got some free change to take several friends out to dinner and drinks in order to try out Serve's product and to get some other friends to do the same. What is Serve, you ask?

Serve is a new way to settle up with friends instantly via email or mobile device -- whether you're at the bar or a restaurant. The result is that you avoid awkward exchanges of cash, and you don't have to chase down your friends to get them to pay up for your boss's holiday gift.

Yes, we made a Chanukiah out of our
used beer and cider bottles!

SCENARIO: Let's say you're at the bar or a restaurant, but the place only takes cash. You turn to your bestie and say, "Hey man, can I borrow $50 to get drinks tonight?" Your friend, being weird about loaning cash money to friends because he's been burned so many times, is hesitant. So you, being the smart person that you are for signing up for Serve.com, whip out your cellphone, click over to the Serve app and send your friend immediately from your Serve account the $50 you're about to borrow from him. He knows, upfront, that you're good for the money, because he just got an email saying that you transfered $50 to him. BAM! No weird encounters or "Hey man, so, make sure you get me the money by Friday" or anything like that. It's practically instantaneous.

So I took several friends out to WaterCourse, a vegetarian/vegan restaurant here in Denver that is absolutely amazing and friendly to weirdos like me who are gluten free and about 90 percent vegetarian and dairy free who also have concerns about kashrut (I know, y'all are going to have questions about this, but this isn't the post for it, so stay tuned). After the meal, when we got the bill, we split it up evenly using the calculator that comes with the Serve app, and everyone paid with their respective cards/cash. Having money in my account from Serve to reimburse my co-diners, I immediately reimbursed all of them via their email addresses from my mobile app! Before we even got up from the table, everything was settled and everyone was blown away by how instantaneously awesome the service is. More goodies?

• Setting up a Serve account is quick and easy
• No more checks
• Safe and Secure from American Express
• Get $10 just for trying it
• Refer friends to Serve and get up to $50

Check out Serve on Twitter and Facebook, and, of course, sign up already! You get free $10 for signing up and honestly, you won't regret signing up, getting your own Serve card, and jazzing your friends with the ease of use and convenience. 

---

Remember to sign up for Serve and receive $10 credit towards your first use. Comment below within the next 7 days for your chance to win an extra $100 credit to your account! Official sweepstakes rules and regulations may be found by clicking here. 


I was selected for this sponsorship by the Clever Girls Collective, which endorses Blog With Integrity, as I do.

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!

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.)

Jewish Authenticity: Detours, Spirals, Swirls

There is very little that comforts me these days, as the world as I know it changes every half-second. But that lack of consistent comfort, I suppose, does comfort me. It brings my underconstructionist nature into full perspective. Other things that comfort me

• I wrote my first slam poem in three or four years. This is huge for me folks. My poetry gave some of my darkest, hardest-to-handle emotions a voice. This. Is. Huge. 
• I realized, while unable to sleep one night earlier this week, that I've spent most of my life feeling guilty about being happy. I come from a place where happiness is unattainable, so when that twinge of happy entered the scene, I felt guilt, I grew depressed and forlorn, and the cycle repeated. But right now, despite everything that has happened and is happening (especially with my family), I have decided that I've earned this right to be happy, above all else. I'm committed to my own happiness. Sof sof. 

Now, something else that is comforting me is an article from Sh'ma called "The Spiral of Jewish Authenticity" by Stuart Charme, and it isn't just because the article starts out with a girl cutting off all of her hair and taking up slam poetry. The author cites socio-psychologist Bethamie Horowitz (whose work I archived for the North American Jewish Databank back when I was in Connecticut) who points out that "Jewishness is not a static condition but rather a journey with various twists, turns, and detours along the way."

I've experienced the twists and turns, and I suppose that right now I'm on a detour. But don't lose hope!

The author describes Jewishness as a

"loose spiral. We circle back to revisit a variety of issues related to Judaism and Jewishness; each time, we approach the experience of Jewishness from new perspectives and with new investments and understandings that emerge in response to other changes in our lives."

The author describes what we understand to be "Jewish authenticity," our sense of connection to the romanticized or idealized image of the past, of what it means to be Jewish. We search for a lifestyle or DNA for our Jewish marker so that we can understand a "sense of unbroken tradition and peoplehood." But, the author says, this is a myth that serves to "legitimate favored forms of identity while delegitimizing others."

And herein lies the cycle. The idea of "Jewish authenticity" changes, constantly. We construct/invent Jewish identity, what makes someone legitimate or not legitimate in their Jewishness. One could argue that halakah, or law, defines who is a Jew, but it isn't that simple. After all, at some point in time, one could argue that a certain aspect of commitment to a specific halakah is more important than another when it comes to "being" Jewish. Who is more legitimate -- one who keeps kosher or one who keeps Shabbat? One who dresses modestly or one who tithes? But we invent what is more or less important, what is more or less legitimate. (Or, perhaps, the we I speak about here is the rabbi.)

Essentially, the author says,

"Some of what is now accepted as authentically Jewish will eventually be abandoned and some of what is now rejected will later be reclaimed. In this sense, each individual's search for Jewish authenticity is a microcosm of the collective process of redefining Judaism at different moments of history.

And that, folks, is where I find my comfort in this article. The author goes on to validate the statement by warning us to "be careful of claiming too much certainty at the present moment -- recognizing the permanently destabilizing power of the future to shatter and rebuild the foundations of our world in ever-new ways."

The only thing that truly is certain -- that I can be absolutely sure of in this world -- is uncertainty itself. I think the author would agree, as he says, "There is probably some Zen-like truth to the idea that those who claim most adamantly to have found or achieved Jewish authenticity are also those who lack it in a deeper sense."

Ultimately, what the author wishes for his daughter -- the hair-cutting slam poet -- is what I wish for myself and for all of you: May your Jewish journey be intellectually and psychologically honest, vibrant, and creative; value questions more than answers; and, most importantly, discover your authentic Jewish self.


Note: Mad props to @StellaTex for passing this article along to me. 

For 24 Hours: Just Give!

no one has ever become poor by giving 

~anne frank~

Today, folks, is a big day for Colorado! Why? Because it's Colorado Gives Day, and I'm taking part in one way or another via my gnarly clients the Colorado Agency for Jewish Education and Stepping Stones.

What is Colorado Gives Day?
It's 24 hours of raising as much money as humanly possible for 839 participating Colorado nonprofits and is the brainchild of Denver-based Community First Foundation. Last year's efforts raised $8.7 million, and I think that this year will blow last year out of the water!

The Organizations for which I'm Pulling?

The Colorado Agency for Jewish Education (aka CAJE), which is pretty self-explanatory. It's responsible for Hebrew High, the Melton Mini-School (adult learning), Israel Study Tour, Early Childhood Education and everything else awesomely educational in Colorado. Them's are some big shoes, folks, and they're hoping to raise $20,000 today! Give $1, give $18, just give, will you? I know most of my readers don't live in Colorado, but Jewish education is Jewish education, and if there's a state that needs it, it's Colorado -- with a Jewish population of 86,000, most Jews here are secular and CAJE does what it can to light a spark in all Jews.

The other organization is Stepping Stones, which is an "outreach organization whose mission is to welcome, support and educate interfaith couples, children and their families." So put your anti-interfaith dialogue on the back shelf and remember that Jewish outreach to interfaith families means a Jewish flavor that otherwise might not exist, and that's important. Stepping Stones also is pushing for $20,000, so give a little, give a lot, just give darn't.

What now?
Be a part of an amazing day of giving. Seriously, give $10, give $100, just give. And then browse the GivingFirst.org website and see what other organizations are worth your hard-earned cash!

Give to CAJE!

Give to Stepping Stones!

I'll be around town throughout the day today roving and reporting for the agencies, so if you want to donate in-person, check out King Soopers on Leetsdale, Zaidy's in Cherry Creek, Panera at the Denver Tech Center, and Bookies. 

Give and let give! Spread the word, friends!

Getting Stamped

Okay friends, my besties over at Quite Like It designs are making me an awesome return-address stamp, and I'm crazy stoked. Which of these three designs do you like best? Let me know ASAP by voting over in the sidebar!

(Clearly the blacked out part is my address ... )

Ten Years Later, and I'm Okay

I just finished watching a most horrible movie -- Since You've Been Gone -- starring some big talent like Lara Flynn Boyle, Teri Hatcher, David Schwimmer, Joey Slotnick, Jon Stewart, Jennifer Grey, Molly Ringwald, and Liev Schreiber. I wasn't looking for cinematic genius, and I didn't get it. I figured it would be one of those run-of-the-mill "you've done nothing with your life" kind of movies, and it sort of was, except that at the end the jerks from high school get their comeuppance and the geeks are the real winners.

Now? I'm watching And God Created Woman, starring Brigette Bardot -- a true film classic (although the fight scenes are so poorly done).

But back to the reflective masterpiece that was Since You've Been Gone. It got me thinking, mostly because I'm pushing my 10-year anniversary of graduating high school.

Ten. Years.

I could have several children by now, and I know some who do. Theoretically, I could have a whole clan of kids, a house, a high-paying job, a vacation home. But truth be told, I never sought any of those things.

Ten years ago, I was keen on going to the University of Nebraska-Lincoln -- after giving up my dreams of attending New York University because of cost -- and majoring in English. I was sure I'd be in the Honors Program (which I was) and that I'd live on campus (which I did). Beyond that? I had no aspirations. I wanted to be free, happy, and to write my little poet's heart out.

As a naive and hopeful 18-year-old (I was in the older end of my grade), I dreamed of moving to New York and being a poet.

A few months into my freshman year of college in 2002, I realized how silly my dreams were (much like those of my childhood -- to be an artist). My dentist, a very awesome lady in her own right, had all of her certificates hanging on her office wall, and during a visit I noticed that one of those certificates was for a bachelor's degree in ... English. The dialogue went something like this:

Me: So, you got your degree in English?
Her: Yup!
Me: So, how'd you become a dentist?
Her (laughing): Well, I realized very quickly after graduating that I couldn't do anything with a bachelor's in English, so I went back to school and became a dentist. 

Well, that sealed the deal for me! My freshman honors seminar was in journalism, so after speaking with my adviser and my professor, I quickly switched over to a bachelor's in journalism, specifically in copy editing (aka News Editorial) and fell quickly in with the crowd working a million hours a week at the student newspaper. Within moments my deal as a copy editor was sealed.

My aspirations changed: I would become a copy editor for a major daily newspaper in the U.S. and be an awesome Jewess in the process.

And I actually accomplished this goal! With a job at The Washington Post after graduating college, I was set, but incredibly unhappy. I picked up, I moved, I attempted to figure out what I wanted to do. I ended up in Chicago working for a Devil Wears Prada-style professor of Economics, discovered my inner Orthodox neshama and?

Another flip: I wanted to go to graduate school to become a professor of Judaic Studies. So I jetted off to Connecticut, got a master's degree in my field, and then, again, was unhappy and unsure what I wanted to do.

A quick change: I would get another degree, this time in education, and teach Hebrew language to youngsters in Jewish day schools in the U.S. So I moved to New York, started up at NYU, and was, within an instant, unsatisfied with the program and my aspirations. And off I was to Colorado, where I am now.

Over time, Social Media became a strength of mine. I dream of moving to Israel and becoming part of some kind of translation and grammar commission, fixing signs the country over for consistency and authenticity. I dream of becoming a well-known slam poet, not just a blogger. I dream of writing, always, the things for which I hold a great passion. I dream of being me, mostly.

Oddly enough, I'm not disappointed in where I have gone and what I have experienced in the past 10 years. In fact, I'm quite proud of everything I have experienced. Many loves, many lost. Many jobs, many addresses. Many cities, four trips to Israel. I bought my first bed, my first car. I found G-d, I found out pieces of mystery regarding myself.

Ten years. I feel like I should feel older and more settled than I do right now, but that's not my style -- it never has been. I was the first of my friends to move away, the wild and unexpected one. As my father says, I'm a free spirit. As much as I've tried to tie myself down, it just isn't in my nature.

I will always write, sing, drink, dance, and speak in ways that make me feel free and liberated. The guilt that I should feel, I suppose for the ups and downs, highs and lows, and promises I've made to myself and others is nonexistent. I live my life as though I am in control, and ten years after I accepted that control upon myself, I am proud to have rediscovered it.

So: Are you where you thought you'd be 10 years ago? Where you were when you were a senior in high school and the world was your oyster?