Thursday, November 30, 2006

why am i watching amona videos??!

As if in a movie
short story or poem
my legs flexed and carried my body
unknown
i walked mindlessly
all the time conscious
just how mindless my walk really was.
the tears on my cheeks
were hot and many
and i couldn't bother wiping them away
cuz the winter chill
contradicted.

i was shaking and bubbling
my hurt and my anger
not sure which one was stronger
but pain is pain
and emotion is motion
so instead of going home
i walked in the dark
and i came to the spot
where not long ago
i sat with the child
us two on the floor
we sat with our coats
our coats and our boots
we sat on the rocks
wet and with mud
and i threw one in
into the water
i watched it soar
i watched it fall
i watched the rock go 'plop'
'here' said i, not long ago
to the child on the floor
'now you try one
and watch it go plop'
and he grabbed at a rock from the floor
he threw it with energy
he threw it with purpose
yet it landed oh so near
the rock did not make it to the water
the rock did not go 'plop'.
he tried again, again and again
yet every time as the first
he had such concentration
such might, determination
yet every time he failed
so i held him up high and gave him a few
thinkin this way hes sure to win
but alas once again
the rocks that he threw
fell just a few feet from our spot
i saw his frustration
i saw how unfair
i saw that we needed to act, to change
so i scanned all the forest and to my delight
i found oh the perfect spot
'come little one' i urged my small friend
'come let us make it go plop'
and we found a ledge where the water did flow
right underneath us you see
it was not far and stretched out beyond
no, it was right there at our feet
i gave him some rocks that i had grabbed just before
the edges, my palms are now red
and i watch as he throws with equal 'mination
though its failed time and time before
and i watched as this time
the rocks that were thrown
made their clumsy and graceful way
into the air, as low as before
but this time
i
heard
it
go
plop.

and we left that place
the young boy and i
each will a smile so pleased
our walk oh so jaunty
our souls calm and happy
and a tip of the hat
(if i'd had thee)


so i came to the place
where id sat with the boy
just a few hours before
and i lunged for the rocks
that were wet on the floor
without really knowing my mind
and i threw those rocks one
by one and some more
i threw them with purpose unclear
but as the rocks fell
each with a 'plop'
my volcano started to clear
with each fall of a rock
my hands trembled less
my fury a bit more gone
each plop that i heard
each plop that i made
calmed my shaking soul

and then i had two
just two rocks in my hand
pebbles so small, insignif'
i didnt feel ready to throw them away
to let go of it all at just once
so i took a deep breath
and smiled and looked
all around me in the dark
i froze the picture in my mind in my heart
i froze it in my soul
i carved the scene
the lessons
the plops
i carved it into my being.
and i whispered words
of the holy and ever
to change my wave
to change my whole being
and then i felt strong
felt secure, confident

and threw the last two in the water.


and the plops are with me still

Tuesday, November 28, 2006

Times of Label (& Co) #2

"Hey Sheina*, stop singing narishe zachin! Why are you not singing the words properly? I thought you knew them..."
"I do. I am just singing it in French."
"French??"
"Ya. In French. Actually no, I am singing it in Russian"




*a 3 yr old gorgeous (k"ah) gift to the world

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Adam sauntered into a clothing store.
A saleswoman accosted him-"Can I show you our brand new pants?"
"No, thank you", said Adam, "I don't need any pants, I have enough now. As a matter of fact, I don't want any of your clothing. Thank you very much though".

A week later, Adam is back in the store.
He accosts the saleswoman-"Hi, can you please show me those pants that you offered me last week?"
"What?!", exclaims the incredulous saleswoman, "But but you said last week you don't need any!"

She asks him desperately, "should i listen to the old adam or the new one?????"



sigh

Ceasefire Lasts 75 Minutes

Ceasefire Lasts 75 Minutes
07:15 Nov 26, '06 / 5 Kislev 5767

(IsraelNN.com) A Kassam rocket landed in an open area in the western Negev a short time ago, some 75 minutes after the PA (Palestinian Authority) (yemach shimchem) declared a ceasefire at 6:00am Sunday morning.


hey! sabra's gotta great solution to all these attacks! let's give em Alfei Menashe and Elon Moreh and Tekoa and 84% of Yerushalayim...that will definitely do the trick, no?

Thursday, November 23, 2006

Pidyon Sh'vuyim of our Sefarim

This day is the crowning culmination of the Didan Natzach victory, marking the actual return, in 5748 (1987) of the S'farim and k'tavim of the Rebbe'im to their rightful place in the library of Agudas Chasidei Chabad. This was the "...pidyon sh'vuyim (`release of the captives') of the S'farim, which were returned to their places in actual fact, on Monday of the Torah-portion `I shall return in peace to my father's house,' on the second of Kislev."

( Hayom Yom; Sicha, Tevet 5, 5748.)
She sings a tune
Foreign in the wind
She sings at peace
Yet all the folks quake.

Two flicketies beside a goofy grin
Glad to be alive and skipping.
She saunters down the path
And all the folks quake.

She reads all the words
But misses all the signs
Glasses sliding down her nose
Why do all the folks quake?

A juicebox in her hand-
the one for trips and kids.
Tis the sparkle of her day
So all the folks quake.

Very mindedly fingering her hair
(to the stranger, the Minded seem absent)
Laughs softly, ears reverberating from the laughter
of shaving soldiers, saltwater and flour
(thank you BC!)
It makes all the folk quake.

Bends down to talk to pigeons
Then waves goodbye
One hand on the juicebox
Still.


I wonder what the English would say about it.

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

new born words

1-
"I want all the information and research handed to me on a platter. After viewing and tasting, I will decide if the platter is a silver one or a moldy one"

2-
"What am I doing? I work, and then I'm default dugma chaya"

3-
"Tis good to feel accomplished, not merely to be accomplishing. But actually, that's just a yetzer hora"

4-
"Oish, I've spent nearly an eternity researching this. Well, enough time to be frustrated."

5-
"i just feel too small for this world in a way, and in a way too big, too much. like i dont fit in."

Real Stage Fright

Walking home (!) this evening, I was in a really cheery mood. I was so grateful to Hashem for everything, so happy and so relaxed. I was grinning huge. I looked heavenward, noticing but not caring about the cold rain and the wind ripping across the darkened skies, and quite audibly (mega smile still in place) said "Thank You, Hashem".

As I'm looking upward, I think of all that's goin on up there. I know there are thousands and thousands of malachim and tzadikim sitting and learning our holy Torah. Some are at shiurim and some are learning chavrusah style. Verses are being quoted by the quotees themselves; argumentative and piercing words have never sounded so friendly and pleasant. They are immersed in the thoughts of Hashem yet at the same time, they are also very aware of the goings on down here in this world. So, quite naturally I continued with a "Hi, Malachim". Y'know, just in case they want regards. I'm still grinning.

And then wham! It hits me. Ooh it hits me. Hard. Paaaaainfully hard.

You see, the malachim are all looking down at me and I'm stage fright.

Extremely stage fright.

THE MALACHIM ARE ALL LOOKING DOWN AT ME!

And what do I do, silly sabra? I simply say 'hi'. "Hi"?? HI??? Court cases are in session, deeds are being weighed, lives are being assessed, souls are being flung, the scale is trying to balance, evidence is being searched for-and all I say is hi???

Nooooooo.

Grin disappears, relaxation is a word in the dictionary, and I think fast and hard and then (without any thought at all really), it's obvious-I gotta make my ancestors proud. All of em.

I begin reciting Perek 32 of Tanya by heart. My voice is quivering, my hands are trembling. You see, this is no regular stage fright, oh no-this is fright from bein on the Real Stage.

Real Stage fright.

With real consequences. It's real, oh boy.

For what will the Alter Rebbe think if I skip a line? What will the Rebbe say if I mispronounce a word? How will my Zeide feel if the words of Edgar Allen Poe or Eyal Golan were to come from his granddaughter's mouth?

I am walking like a drunkard now, yet I've never been as sober; I can't see properly yet I've never experienced such clarity in my life. I'm feeling weak; my strength is derived from holding onto our holy words alone.

As I turn the last corner, I feel a relief previously unexperienced by man, shadowed by a strange and very throbbing fear.
Kind of how I feel every time I get off a stage.

But this was different. This was a Real Stage.

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

a life of questions...

I was debating if it should be a life of 'why' or 'why not'.
I came up with the following:

Deeds done by oneself, should be preceded with a 'why'.
Actions done by the One Above, should be received with a 'why not?'.




=====

A fascinating* thought-

Thousands and thousands of years ago, before the expulsion from Spain, before the cotton candy machine was invented, before Albert Einstein bought mousse (err or wished he could), before the raven came tapping, before black and white photos were popular, before the Alter Rebbe was put into jail, before the Wright brothers thought of flying, before my grandfather married my grandmother, before Ka'in killed Hevel, before the Kotel was back in Jewish hands, before anything-before the world was created even! before man was created, before there were fish in the sea and before there even WAS a sea, before all that...Hashem had already Known which color undershirt I would wear today. Fascinating. Completely fascinating.


*interchangeable at times with 'scary' or 'comforting'.

CHODESH TOV!

pffffffff

"Hmmm, you look familiar..."
"Thank you!!"

---

"Hey nudnik, eich korim lecha?"
"Nudnik"



Dedicated to 'aizeh mishehee' and our (Simcha Peretz Geder?) campaign.
(eh don't believe us till it happens).

Ti Voglio Bene...but waaaaaaaaaaay more.

Friday, November 17, 2006

It's a Sweetbitter Shabbos for me.

When someone refers to something as bittersweet, what do they mean?
They are talking about something that is sweet but tinged by bitterness.
The classic example is of chocolate. Bittersweet chocolate.
It has a slightly bitter taste but one can still taste the sweetness of it.

When someone refers to something as sweetbitter what do they mean?
They are talking about something that is bitter but tinged by sweetness.
The original example is of Parshas Chayei Sarah. Shabbat Chevron.
It has a slightly sweet taste but once can still taste the bitterness of it.


This week, I will not be spending shabbos in chevron.
It is bitter. Strongly bitter.
But I have memories and feelings and photos of years past.
It is sweet. Strongly sweet.
So the sweetness helps to overcome the bitterness.

It's a Sweetbitter Shabbos for me.

----

(I'm wishing you all the sweetest of shabbosim..not just the sweet-ish* kind...and may we all merit to spend this shabbos together with all of our imahos and avos. Also, can you please say tehillim for Miriam Baila bas Rochel? Thank you.)
*hehehe

Thursday, November 16, 2006

Letting Kids Bee

Tis a bit too long.
Especially for the sabra.
(hmm which animal would that make me be?)
But nice photos. Really nice.
Oh ya, and good message.
Duh.
Hehe, can't believe I almost forgot to write about that.
The message.
It's a good one.


Watch the clip

(from J.M to mum to me)

Wednesday, November 15, 2006

My (attempted) Roman Conversion

It's not happening!
I try, I try, I really do, but it's just not happening!



I memorize their mantra, but end up chanting my own.
I merge into their lanes, but end up driving in my own.
I listen to their beat, but end up marching to my own.
I gaze at their portraits, but end up painting my own.
I mingle with their folk, but end up living on my own.
I practice their strokes, but end up creating my own.
I hear their language, but end up speaking my own.
I taste their mixes, but end up blending my own.
I wear their styles, but end up adapting my own.
I breathe their air, but end up emitting my own.



I just can't do it.
I just can't do as the Romans do.

Chof Gimmel Cheshvan

I'm lovin today's hayom yom.


On a separate note, I'd like to thank Hakadosh Baruch Hu, who, in His inifinite kindness and mercy had decreed that the bathroom not be freezing cold after my shower today.
Hodu L'Hashem Ki Tov, Ki L'olam Chasdo.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Times of Label #1

He tore off a piece of his siddur and before I could think of an answer, he had already tossed it into his mouth and was chewing furiously.


The concept of internalizing kedusha has taken on an entirely new meaning.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Upstairs, Downstairs

Upstairs, they farbrenged.
Downstairs, they partied.

Upstairs, it was all inclusive.
Downstairs, all exclusive.

Upstairs, the ages didn't matter. A chossid is not bound by time.
Downstairs, only those from the same age group were invited.

Upstairs, they sat in a small circle. Each one could see and feel and connect with one another.
Downstairs, they milled about. One looked but didn't see, one touched but didn't feel. There was no connection.

Upstairs, their voices rose in niggun and broke through the gates of heaven.
Downstairs, their voices rose in nonsense and crashed downwards.

Upstairs, they absentmindedly picked on the food because it was in front of them.
Downstairs they sat near the food so they can attack it with as much gusto as seen fit.

Upstairs, they spoke of Rebbeim and Rebbetzins. Of chassidim and yeshivas. Of the mesiras nefesh of then and of the mesiras nefesh of now.
Downstairs, they spoke of pop stars and idols. Of themselves and their lives. Of shallowness and selfishness.

Upstairs, they didn't feel the cold. Their bodies transcended nature.
Downstairs, they shivered from the cold. They were one with the elements.

Upstairs, minds were flooded, hearts were cracked, souls were ignited.
Downstairs, minds were clogged, hearts were closed, and souls were dimmed.


Upstairs, they farbrenged.
Downstairs, they partied.

Quotation Marks

"Beware of those [quotation] marks; they transform opinions to facts and theories to laws."
(Mion B. Relliantz)



Don't be a fool, I say.

Friday, November 10, 2006

What happened to my soulburn?

:(

No G-d, that does not mean I need to be 'lit' again.
No, thank You.
I just want the fire back.
Yes, please.

add it to the list...


...of woah
...of hashgocha pratis
...of memories
...of regrets
...of loves
...of pride
...of happiness
...of stupidity

i think i should have shutupped earlier?

someone has hijacked into my email account and is sending out emails that are NOT FROM ME!!
i dont know who it could be but they write so frighteningly similar to myself that it is no wonder that no one suspects anything.
whats that you just yelled? change the password?
i have, mistalbetim, i have!
but they just keep comin back and figurin it out.
its not fair!
yknow, i do semi-agree with some of what was written, but not EVERYTHING.



bottom line:
those emails i sent were not really from me. embarassment gone.




(good work, sherlock. how'd you think of that? elementary, my dear watson.)

waitta sec, did that change the dynamics of the bottom line? cuz new ones are appearing...

Rabbi Lau Leads Torah Process to New Munich Synagogue

Former Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi Meir Lau led the procession carrying a Torah to its home in the new Ohel Jakob synagogue in downtown Munich, 68 years after the Night of Broken Glass, Kristallnacht in which Nazis smashed windows and...(read rest of article)



That is definitely a 'woah'.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Germany Is Woah

Germany is woah.
Woah.
Like Gush Katif.
Gush Katif is woah.
Chabad is woah.
Chevron is woah.
Woah.
Yerushalayim is woah.
Niv & Barak are woah.
Afrosonny is woah.
Blood is woah.
Woah.
Woah woah.
Novels are woah.
Graves are woah.
Thunder is woah.
Woah.
Woah.
Germany is woah.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

















P.s. Chaya Mushka shows her sister a picture of
Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka and says "This is Rebbetzin Me"

Peepee.s. Can you spot baby sheenuh?

Silence

Silence, at times, is the loudest, sharpest and most powerful 'last word'.
(Mion B. Relliantz)

Monday, November 06, 2006

"I'm very confident about my insecurities!"

I can't stop thinkin and admirin that line. I absolutely love it, remchalamo.
(twas said in the comments section of this post).
Am Yisrael Chayale!


Another line that I read on a blog this week and still lovin, is from chasidishe shaigitz:
"My mechanic told me, 'I couldn't repair your brakes, so I made your horn louder.'"
(tis from Steven Wright...click here for cs's post and here for a link with a lot more of his quotes.)



p.s. sababa l'gamrei!

Friday, November 03, 2006

Shabbat Lech Lecha and 11 Cheshvan (or 'The Sabra That Was')

So as I'm doing the dishes, I'm musing about last year's Yud Aleph Cheshvan (anniversary of the death of our matriarch Rachel) and I decide to look back n read what I had written about it. I searched my blog till I found it here. It's a reprint of an email I sent out to a buncha acquaintances, buddies, family members, jailmates and grandkids. I get sucha kick outta readin my old emails cuz I write them as if I'm talking to the recipient personally. But, mahjnuna that I am, I still stick in my private jokes that noone but myself gets (ahem esty ;) ). So when I finished, I scrolled down and saw my email about Shabbat Lech Lecha and all these rich memories and emotions suddenly sabranapped me (similar to kidnapping, but not quite).

Those were the days...ahh hayu yamim hayu yamim...anyhow, I thought maybe you guys would enjoy it..cuz yall come back to this balagan of a blog and get frustrated that you cant decipher the CIA code....which noone asked you to do anyhow, so ur just setting yourself up for disappointment...silly muggles...and I never keep you in mind, never bother explaining or giving background...so theres no thinking or guessing required this time.....b'kitzur, my good deed of the decade.

I'LL GIVE Y'ALL AN HOUR TO GET OVER THE SHOCK.
(over my freedom of expression as well as the revealing clues/hints/details of my life n background)

[chortle chortle]



(o and wandering, i already told you i won't mention the approx 30:12 cuz ur not cool enough so don't you be expecting it now)

Thursday, November 02, 2006

And if you smell like mold after taking a shower, think not: "O my, I suck at taking showers"; think: "O my, tis a good thing I have a great deodorant which can cover the smell of these moldy towels."


(The Previous Car In This Train Of Thought)

Sohlim Teklarayshin

I shall give background, I shall.
"There's only one time where I did the right thing and I'm still regretting it."


(is that how it goes?)

77:24

yall know the routine already


(son, a witty thing to write back would be "I'm a witty fatma")