Thawing Out

I can feel my fingers again B"H. Got lots of work done:
1) wrote most of one of my papers
2) called a shadchan
3) thought about doing my Hebrew Homework (doesn't count right?)
4) Checked out the NY Board of Ed website
5) Surfed every Jewish Job page in search of a job.
(read somewhere us bloggers talk about the most mundane, but I won't tell you what I had for breakfast, don't worry-not that I remember if I ate breakfast or not)
Tomorrow I have to do tons more work, yay! can't wait. The end is in sight though, as I get to pick up my cap and gown next monday.
Oh and party at my house Dec 25th (yeah I know what day that is), my mother decided I needed a graduation party so all you people who know me in real life are invited. Don't know what time it will be called for but I will let y'all know.
Life is crazy, but I would not want it any other way. Hope y'all are enjoying the ride as much as I am.
Will prob. be blogging often, as I have so much work that needs to be pushed off. Ha, don't you love procrastination.

I am in Love

Don't know what it is about the guy, but he makes me so happy. I think it is because every time he speaks it makes me think about all the people in the world who pay others to tell them how wonderful they are, and to think they could just get their fix online. I found this link on h.com and fell in love, I am sure you will too. So enjoy.
I like you.

My Hands are Freezing

Can't figure out how to keep them warm, and I have been inside all day. Gloves would be nice but I can't type with gloves on and I have to get this paper done tonight. Hope I can feel my fingers by the end of the night.

Finding Neverland and Sand in My Shoe

Last night my friend called and invited me to "Finding Neverland". Being that I am so out of the loop when it comes to anything related to popular culture in the last 12 months, I looked it up online and decided that it might be worth the 8 bucks and two hours of work that I would not be doing while I watched it. In the end my friend treated me to it and I decided that I wouldn't have gotten any work done anyway, so it was really worth it. It was a very well done movie and I would recommend it to all. The tale though sad was inviting and the message was inspiring. I decided that I needed a Neverland. Then moments later I realized that I had a Neverland, filled with dreams, promises and good feelings, those are the best kind. I think most people have such a place be it in the real world or in their heads and as we grow we still turn to it (though we don't let others know about it). After the movie my friends and I were discussing the idea of escapism and how some use imagination to escape but that it is so much more important than just that.

R' Orlofsky spoke in Baltimore last week, I had work to do and I was broke but I decided I could afford the time and money (sound familiar) to hear his words of wisdom and Torah. He did not disappoint. He spoke about Chanukah and Dreams (amazing how things in life fit together so beautifully). He said that Chanukah is for the dreamers, because without those crazy dreamers who felt that they would go fight against the great Greek army when they had no chance of winning the story of Chanukah would not have taken place. I will not even attempt to tell the story as he did but his message was clear, Those who Dream and Hold on to the Dream Accomplish Amazing Things. He told the story of a seamstress who wanted to to teach Jewish Women, everyone told her to go back to her sewing machine but while they were trying to figure out the issue literally with plans and committees she went along with her dream. While they were drafting plans for chairpeople she was opening Bais Yaakov.

So dreams are vital, I think this is the message Hashem is trying to not so subtly send me. Dreams of who you want to be (even if you feel you are lagging so far back that you will never be able to reach such heights), Dreams of what you want to accomplish (even if others are telling you it is impossible), Dreams of the lives you will touch and the works you will influence. They are dreams but only remain so if you let them.

This being said, as I dressed for my trip to the movies last night, I slipped on the flats that I wore on the beach last Shabbos and felt the rough kernels of sand against my feet. It made me smile.

Random but I think you can handle it

I did not write about the shabbaton because nothing exciting happened. It was nice, the people were nice and the beach was nice, but nothing really worth blogging about. But one thing did happen that got me mad and bear with me because I had it all typed up and lost it so this is take two. It was friday night and I was talking to a couple of Yachad advisors when a HASC guy came over to rub in the fact that I missed simchaton. I made my excuses and he moved on.

Then one of the Yachad advisors turned to me and started sharing his views on HASC. "They begged me to work there" he said "but I refused because such camps make me sick, they are just disgusting." Ok, stop right here, first of all dude (and no I did not say this) but they beg any guy to come because they don't have enough male counselors and second of all (this I did say) why are they disgusting? (by these types of camps he meant simcha, oh and you know camps like Aishel-but he wasn't going to even get in to that)
Well he said that people worked there to put it on their shidduch resume and to get the sweatshirts. Hang on again, aren't I a good example of how this whole shidduch theory doesn't hold water and I would go back in a second.

Well it was late at night and I was not in my best rhetorical form so I did not point out that he totally missed the point of such camps (you know to give these campers a great summer and to give the parents a break) or that there were people who actually worked at these camps for reasons other then those he stated. I also did not point out that whatever reason people go they come out with so much more then they imagined they could come out with. I did say that I was sorry he thought that but I worked in camp to be with my girls.
This is when he really blew up.
"See he said, this is what I am talking about, Your girls" He said, "They are not your girls, they have parents who love them, do you think they would want you to call them your girls?"

I explained that first of all I would never call them my girls to their face and number two, their parents know what I think about them and they don't mind, they actually like that I am so attached.

But then I was thinking, all caregivers, teachers and counselors at 'normal' camps (wonder if he thinks it is ok to work at sternberg), their children, girls or boys. This is not abnormal. I think I can call girls (yes my campers were girls between the age of 7-12) who I bathed, fed, clothed, diapered, ran around with, played with, soothed, sat up all night when one had pneumonia, cuddled, worried about, taught, sang to, cried with, did laundry for, took to the doctor and most of all loved for seven weeks (some for 3 or 4 summers in a row) MY GIRLS. And by that I do not mean that I love them more than their parents, or that I own them in anyway. Sheesh.

I know that HASC is not the perfect camp, I know that us counselors are far from perfect or wonderful but he is missing part of the puzzle. He doesn't know about bonds that form so quickly and deeply that they don't disappear in the months after camp (I know it sounds like a bad color war song). He doesn't know about the campers who talk about their counselor all year and for years to come. He hasn't seen the smiles my girls give me when I visit. Maybe he should read Aishel's blog entry from last week.
No, HASC is not with out its issues.
Yes, I know that some people work their for the reason's he named.
But he missed the point.

I decided

I decided that in order to get married a girl has to really, really like the guy. I mean the kind of like at causes her to overlook the fact that he is male. Cause you know what boys are strange. No not some of them, all. Now boys I don't mean this as an insult, it is not as if it is your fault, the y chromosome has a lot to do with it, or maybe it is the lack of a second x who knows.
No seriously though, men and women are so different in order for them to put up with each other they have to seriously love one another and in order to even consider living together they have to seriously like each other or else it just doesn't work. Now I have no brothers and we have trained my father over the years so I did not realize how absolutely different guys were until more recently in life. Of course I knew there was a difference but I had no clue who completely opposite the two species are.
It is a good thing, I really believe this, but at the same time it is difficult.
Ok, enough rambling for now...so much more to write but I have a paper (or four) to work on. I'll catch y'all up when I am done.
Till then leave me a message.
Yeah me,
not pamello
not Sasson
not the lurkers..
ME.

Boys

Nisht*
* don't you be taken that the wrong way now.

Things I have learned in the last 24 hours

1. Things I discuss with people over IM might be blogged about (and not by me).
2. Yelling sometimes actually gets things done (no I did not yell at anyone).
3. People do not read blogs because they are interested in what the blogger has to say, no, no, they read blogs so that they can read the comments of other readers and banter amongst themselves in the comment section.
4. Talking about getting work done does not equal actually getting it done.
That is all for now folks, discuss...

So Busy Yet Nothing to Say

Life is hectic which is great because I am actually getting stuff done. I have decided to step back a bit front the after college plans (just for a few days) so that I can get ahead of the before graduation stuff. Today I had to make an appointment to get my wisdom teeth out before my dental insurance runs out, and to be honest it is not how I want to be spending the week after graduation, but better now then later right.
I am going on a shabbaton this weekend and I can't wait, I need a little time away from real life (although I am bring work with me) and this should just about fill my quota of getting away until graduation day.
Not much to share, life is boring at the moment. Busy but boring. Which is nice for me but not really blog worthy.
Hope you are doing well and life is treating you well.
P.S. See three blog entries and no dating mentioned, Nice.

Because You Read

I have so much to write, so much on my mind,
but I can not share, I will not share. Because you read.
It isn't your fault.
I asked you to read.
I asked you to share, my dreams, my thoughts, my musings and my rants.
I wanted you to read, I wanted you to know me.
So I told you to read, I begged you to read.
And now you do.
So I can not write.

Shoes

Ok, so I have become a shoe fanatic. I don't buy many because I have to fall in love with a pair in order to bring it home (a problem when I really need a pair). When I need a pair, though there is no stopping me, even if it is totally impractical. Till now that is, I have learned the trick to stopping myself from buying unneeded shoes. I wear my high-heeled tall boots when I go shopping. They are such a pain to take off, I can't possibly try any new shoes on. It worked last night. I was out shopping for a shabbos sweater and ended up in the shoe department (just looking of course). I found a pair of ankle boots that were totally cute, and totally impractical (I think I have on outfit to possibly go with them), so first I said to myself if they are under 20 dollars, I will try them on, thinking they would be at least 25. Well they were 19.95, so what could I do. I took them off the shelf, then I looked down at my shoes, and realized that there was no way my boots were coming off before I got home. New boots went back on the shelf and there they are still. So sad, I think I dreamt about them last night, but my wallet is thanking me. Or it will when I get to Ny and start paying rent.

So glad I can bring people together

Even if it is only virtually. Maybe I should change the name of my blog to The Meeting Place or Welcome to the Party. nah, maybe not. Good Shabbos.

Musings of more Positive Passion

You asked for it so here it is, I said I feel deeply but this won't seem as deep because we take love so lightly. Love is deeper then I can capture in these simple phrases. Yet here it is anyway, my passion for life and what it encompasses in no specific order.

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I love nephews

I love friends

I love weblogs

I love flowers

I love snow
I love the noise of NY

I love my chani's smile

I love being Jewish

I love being me

I love music

I love warm blankets on cold nights

I love Hashem

I love feeling accomplished

I love the journey we call life

I love the leaves turning colors

I love camp HASC
I love my campers

I love crazy chaotic moments

I love quite moments in solitude

I love walking alone

I love walking with friends
I love talking to friends
I love a good challenge
I love Eretz Yisroel
I love my family
I love a good book
I love the moment right before you fall asleep
I love daydreams
I love fireflies
I love oatmeal raisin cookies
I love sunshine
I love the way silk feels against your skin
I love wide-open spaces
I love watching babies sleep
I love to laugh
I love swings
I love words
I love the smell of winter
I love loving and being loved in return

A fit of passionate dislike

Disclaimer: I hate the word hate, but this is what I was feeling (maybe not hate but passionatly dislike isn't poetic). I am not sharing this so that you can all send me virtual hugs or words of sympathy. I am sharing this because I know I am not alone and that I am not the only one with these emotions at random moments in thier lives. On this blog, I share my unexplainable feelings of joy and sometimes my unexplainable feelings of sadness. I feel deeply, this is my writer's curse and blessing.

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I hate the games

I hate the hope that dies so quickly
I hate the hating myself and feeling inadequate
I hate the wanting and the waiting
I hate the jealousy that I try not to feel
I hate the “I wish I knew some one for you”s
I hate the “don't worry you will look back and laugh”s
I hate the “oh, I feel so bad for you”s
I hate the feeling that maybe if I lost weight I would be married
I hate the fact that my parents think every guy on earth is marriage material but won't help me find the guy that really is
I hate the fact that shadchanim gave up on me
I hate the awkward singles events that I went to and might go to in the future
I hate the lack of singles events in Baltimore
I hate the wishing that some guy would just show up and sweep me off my feet
I hate that it hurts me to be so left behind
I hate that I feel so left behind
I hate dating
I hate not dating
I hate the sympathy
I hate the obsession
I hate the endless list of possibilities that never end up working out
I hate the advice not asked for
I hate the assumptions
I hate hearing how wonderful I am
I hate hearing how much I have to work on
Yet most of all I hate the hating

Ok, I am not that scary at 3 am

At least I hope I am not that scary at 3 am.

lots of you read

I know, so comment or else I will come after you in your sleep.
And I can be quite scary at 3 am, so I would comment if I were you.

I ate french fries tonight

And I don't feel guilty.
ok, maybe a little guilty.

My nephew sang happy birthday to me

Picture this, my chani (a slim, blond haired princess) sitting on the floor, her dress (one I could only envy- all satin, lace and petticoats) fluffed out around her struggling to get up and run across the room, as I sitting next to her (in an outfit not made for floor sitting, but definitely chani proof) hold her in place as not to disturb the pictures of her (and at one point me) that are being projected on to a large screen across the room. A screen, I might add, that she has no interest in looking at. I don't have any clue what had her attention (maybe the big empty space full of possible mischief or perhaps the table full of food directly behind the projection screen. Yet at one point she looked at me, eyes pleading, and then she resigned and gave me a smile. A Chani smile.
Though this would have been worth the trip alone, it was only part of the fun I had yesterday. Besides running in to some great friends I also got to see another camper, my Miri (a miniature, brunette Chani, with a little less attitude). At first she shied away a bit (perhaps she did not recognize me with straight hair), but after a moment she gave me a smile and cuddled into my lap. I got to feed her and walk around with her (her walking has improved so much she doesn't stop when you let go, it is amazing). Then we danced. I danced with Chani and Miri and Chani's mom (who gave me the biggest hug when she saw me), I twirled the girls in circles till they giggled.
Then we went over to the concert, a large production to honor all the Tafkid kids who were being bar or bas mitzvahed this year. There was another camper of mine being honored also. It was loud and crowded, but we enjoyed. I hung out with Chani and Miri a bit more, gave them last minute hugs and kisses (to hold me over till January) and got a ride back to the city mid concert. B"H I was an hour early for the bus, so I capped off my day with a visit to Sephoras (my most favoritest store ever), the new one, the one on fifth avenue. Talk about old fashioned elegance, this store used fifth avenue to its benefit.
As I got on to the bus and settled in to my seat I got a call. This is what I heard.
My older sister in the background: Happy
My nephew on the phone: Birthday
s: to
n: you
s:Happy
n: Birday (that is what it really sounded like)
s: to
n: tanta dis
s: happy
n: birthday you
It was the cutest thing ever and one of the best birthday presents I have ever gotten (the bear coming pretty close, my friends, thanks so much).
The ride home was uneventful, by ten I was home and soon after I was in bed, exhausted, but content.

I know I should be writing my paper

This paper isn't working. It just isn't flowing, usually I see the whole picture by now and the words hit the page before I even realize it. Here, every word is a struggle, every sentence an accomplishment and then I usually erase it. I think I am trying to hard, but I can't seem to destress when it comes to this simple paper.
This isn't helping my already blah mood. It is not a horribly blah mood, I think it would be a wonderful mood actually, if it weren't for this paper and all the other stuff that I am trying to figure out in my life. And it isn't like I want the stress to go away, I need to get this stuff done, I need to move on with my life and I need to plan for all the changes that should be taking place in the next few months. I just have to learn how to keep the stress from scraping away at my pleasant mood.
I hate waiting, I used to be extremely impatient, HASC taught me patience. Now I can deal with other people keeping me waiting or with other people not doing what I want them to do. I can even deal with unexpected changes and frustrations in life. What I am totally impatient with is wanting to know the path my life will take. How come I have patience for everyone but Hashem, does this make sense? I think not. I just want to know who he is and what he is doing with his life. I want to know where I will be working and living in a few months. I want to know if I will love Ny or hate it.
I know I ask for to much, I do not feel I have a right to these answers but I do crave them still. I want so much and so deeply that sometimes I wish that we were given things based on how much we desired them, but that is a foolish and dangerous wish.
I am happy. I love this time of year and I love that I have so much ahead of me. I love the fact that I have freedom and the resources to enjoy this freedom (ok, so I am a little short on cash, but hopefully a job will fix that). I love that I still love me and my life even when I am frustrated with aspects of both. I love how far I have come, I love the adventure that will take me to where I am heading.
Yet I ruin it all by getting hung up on the things that I don't love. I ruin it by being hung up on the wait.

I am sure it was meant in the nicest way possible

My grandmother informed me tonight that my twin will be a grandmother before I marry.
And you want to know why I am dreading the shelf.