Yay!

If you couldn't really tell in the previous picture, here's a better one of Randy's outfit today:

Yes, that's right--he's wearing a tee and hat I made!

Randy has Found Love...And It's a Female!

After finding some posterboard that someone had scribbled on in the Hillel room today, Randy let us all know what O-girls will look like in 20 years....

(and you can see the hottest o-girl ever, barring Miryam, in the mirror hiding behind her camera's flash.)

Quotes of the Day

Upon Hearing that I used God's Name in Vain
"That's number three on God's top ten!"
-Doni

On Socializing 21st Century Style
"Before facebook, I was a geek with no friends. But now I'm a geek with virtual friends!"
-Randy

Hot for Teacher

My professorial* crush can no longer be denied or repressed. I am waaaay too into my professor. At the beginning of the semester, I thought he was hot. But that's not a surprise, or anything, because I tend to think everyone is hot (except for maybe old, fat gu...no wait, I love Gregg Allman, too...oh dear). But now, my love for this professor of mine is totally out of control!
I had a pretty hot prof. this past summer for English 300, but then he just became arrogant at some point and the things about him that were like cute at the beginning of the semester just became assholey. Plus, he lost my portfolio and for that I hate him. :)
So, I approached my little crush on my Essay Workshop Class prof. with hestitation. I decided that I'd make myself not like him. Even if he is hot and just a grad school student. I mean--he said he lives in Bergen County (unless my hearing deceived me and he really said something else, which is not altogether impossible). No one--no one--lives in the suburbs when they're single! This man is either totally married (but no ring) or totally living with his parents (but...but...no way!). But of course, since I can't accept those theories, I am going to push them all aside for, "his grandmother is very old and very weak now that she's a widow with Alzheimer's, so he moved in with her to take care of her and give her the dignity and respect that an elderly woman should get since her nurse just works to fulfill a function." ...even though then his grandmother's in a diphthong sitch and that's sad...
Now, up until last week, I was cool. I was totally shimotily cool in class. Because really--a crush on teacher? So cliche. But I can't do that anymore because he's leading me on. He is leading me on!
There was a day last week (Wednesday) when it snowed. I was wearing a long skirt, naot, a tee-shirt under just a denim jacket, my sexy-fuzzy scarf, and my hot purple bag. I ended up running from 5th to school (across four avenues) in the snow, in my open back shoes, with my sockless feet, looking like a nutjob. No thanks to accuweather.com that told me there was a chance of rain but no mention of anything else.
I ran into Hunter West (thirty minutes late for class) and as I was hurrying toward the elevators noticed my hot professor walking toward my direction, laughing--I'm assuming at the obviously ridiculous spectacle of me (and I admit that you'd have to have a serious lacking in the sense of humor department to have not laughed at what I looked like). He said "hi." I said, "hi." And we both continued on our merry little ways.
But see, the next day in class, he kept smiling every time he looked at me. Just in a good mood? Possibly. But it's more fun to think it's because he likes me. I tried pretending to my brain that he was just still amused by my weirdoness. Yesterday in class, though, he kept laughing at me. LAUGHING! Have you ever heard of this in your life, from a professor? I mean, not laughing in a bad way. Laughing in a, "oh, that Dina..." way. And yes, I have come to recognize that kind of laugh quite well. I cannot be fooled!
Then, of course, when we were discussing Fitzgerald's The Crack-Up I was added some of what I thought to the comments (which was an awful lot, as usual) and I realized that I had just psychoanalyzed Fitzgerald and found all these cool things in his essay but that maybe my comment wasn't so relevant to the class's purpose, which was more along the lines of studying the essay structure and what not. So I stopped and said, "actually, never mind because maybe this isn't even relevant." I tend to have lots to say in class and I hate when I hear my voice too much.
Professor Hotness said something like, "well, actually it sounds really interesting--can you go on?"
"Oh, I'm sorry professor, did you just ask me to have a crush on me or was that when you sent me an e-mail this morning that said, 'Those were great - excellent work - thanks for sending them,' in response to the unintelligable e-mail I sent a kid in my class with comments for his essay I wrote at 5am after having been up all night because I had left it at home for class?" For serious...I even wrote in that e-mail, "If you're making the case that any sexual content in children's entertainment is either there unintentionally or completely missed by whatever-it-is's (film, movie poster, etc.) target audience because they haven't been exposed to what those suggestions are hinting to yet, saying 'it's okay for their to be a spire on the castle that resembles a penis because boys don't watch the Little Mermaid anyway' seems to weaken your argument because it seems like you're saying even a little boy wouldn't be looking for such symbols and it would thereby go unnoticed." And yes, I wrote their instead of there! Mortally embarressing. Even worse than that actual sentence. I can't believe I actually sent it and cc'ed my prof. like he asked. But then, I am trying to uncrush myself from having a crush on him. Not that he'll ever be able to resist my o-girl awesomeness anyway.

*How totally cool is it that is actually a word? Okay, so my syntax is all wrong for it, but whoa!

My Goodness!

Even before the vote is all tallied (few more days left, all of yous...get those votes in), I have a few things to say.

1. Randy, I know you voted twice because you FILLED IN THE SAME RESPONSES TWICE TOO! Geez, I know your opinion of women is not the highest, but really, we aren't as dumb as you think.


2. Steve, I know this, "I love you so much that I wish I gave birth to you so I can call you my offspring...and then rub peanut butter on you" was you. Sicko!


3. I think it's really nice that Helen from Philosophy Club thinks I'm adorable and someone I don't even know loves me "so so much" because that really makes me feel special!


4. Zahava, your response to my question about peanut buttery bliss is completely factually inaccurate.

   "My fondest memory of peanut butter was: I borrowed this amazing creamy hazel nut peanut butter for the Pirutins kys. Then I wrote down to buy a new one on the glorious Friedman family shopping list. When my dad came home from the store he unpacked a lowfat nebech Skippy. Replacing the pinnacle of life indulgance with a pathetic immitation? Horrors. Yet I called it my fondest memory, I guess this explains why I'm obsessed with learning about the Holocaust. I think I'll stop writing now."

   Doll, love of my life, cookie-baby-face, it was a creamy Honey-Roasted-Skippy-Peanut-Butter that your dad tried replacing with a low-fat nebech Peter Pan. (Yes, peanut butter means so much to me that I can recall all these details with clear precision.) But it's okay because my mother taught me a life lesson after that incident: if you want a man to do something, you have to explain to him what you want--just telling will not accomplish the desired effect.
   And that, "pinnacle of life indulgance" was great!


5. You, "once when I was stuck in the Planters peanut factory, I shmeared peanut butter all over a goat and sent it running through the monkey cages in the factory. Why the planters factory has monkey cages is beyond me," did not follow instructions because Planters doesn't make peanut butter. They make peanuts. But you get points for creativity :).


6. And as for you, "me and Dina were in my room one Shabbos and before we took our lil nap we had our weekly shabbos binge. This time we took out the peanut butter and beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Then we woke up to hear havdolah," I totally want to know what was going on over there!


7. To all those of you who skipped the questions that I gave you in order to indulge your creative sides, well, all I have to say is that I hope your lovers don't mind your boringnesses because you are CLEARLY no fun in bed. And you--you who voted "oy..." to every single quote and then neglected to answer the bottom questions--well, I deleted your vote because you suck. So take that!

And to all of you: your grammar sucks. I mean, really, I know it's only the Internet, but it takes one, ONE, more key stroke to capitalize your I's!

P.S. For those of you from Madagascar, Micronesia, Palestine, Canada, Israel, and "I think Brooklyn is its own country," thanks for stopping by!

Quotes of the Day

In Response to my Morning Salutation
"I can see your elbows, whore."
-Randy

On Fame
"Think about it, Dina: the champagne will be flowing, stretch limos on demand, the finest european clothing... should I wear a cape?"
-Randy

I Love it When People Try to Help Themselves Instead of Those They "Want to Help."

Can I please say that I am royally annoyed?

I found out last week from Dean Ayravainen that the administration got tons of letters about the sign and that there was probably a form letter sent out because most of the letters were about the same.

"There was a form letter sent out? Who did that? How strange..." I thought.

Well, there's a Jewish student listserv I'm a member of but never really check. That is, until Steve IMed me in a panic that I HAD to check it out and I HAD to see what was going on yesterday. So I did. And what do you know...I find out that there has been an "action alert" issued by someone (don’t know who yet) to e-mail the administration at Hunter. How they found about the sign? Why, this site called Peace with Realism and CampusJ, of course. And Peace with Realism got it from CampusJ.

So, what is this--I write an article and then no one cares about us? Why an e-mail wasn't sent to us of the Hunter Jew Crew, I don't understand. I know that if I were to read an article like that and get concerned, my first reaction would be to contact the person who wrote it. And in this case, it just so happens to be that my e-mail address is right there on the page with the article. You don't even have to click a "contact me" button. Right. Freaking. There.
(And I do know that my e-mail definitely works because I have gotten e-mails regarding the sign from concerned faculty at Hunter and elsewhere.)

Please, someone, explain to me why there are people who care more about talking than saying anything because right now, I am too upset.

I read what people wrote on the listserv. I actually wrote one response and Steve wrote two. Guess how many people, out of the people who responded to any of the e-mails directly on the listserv, addressed me OR Steve. Go on, really, try to guess. It’s not that hard to figure--there were none. The people who had time to send an e-mail to President Raab apparently didn't have time to think about and respond to the Jewish students who are actually in the situation themselves.

We are doing something about it. We have been doing something about it. And because we by no means feel satisfied with the point we’re at right now (a disclaimer was put up with the sign saying that it is not intended to offend Jewish students but to simply make a political statement), we will continue to do something about it.

So in response to the people out there who think that we, Jewish students at Hunter, don't care at all about the fact that there is a sign in our school comparing us to Nazis and that we want to sit on our asses, plain and simple, waiting for some big, macho outsider to step in and say, "tah-dah! All taken care of. I have saved you!

Steve made a great point in his second response on the listserv,

"we aren’t like them. We respond to hate with education and events. When we rip down that sign what’s to stop them from coming into Hillel and taking down the Israeli Flag or stealing Tanakhs? Let them disgrace themselves they dig themselves into a hole of being uncivilized and hateful. At first, I wanted to rip down the sign...but if we do what does that change?"

Now, Steve and I don't always agree when it comes to politics :), but I think that what he said was worthy of being heard. Only, no one really cared to listen.

And I'm extra mad that I can't even write this on Punks cause then Dean Ayravainen, Dean Escoci, President Raab, Palestinian Club Pres. Lisa, and the whole Hunter administration mishpacha will read it. Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurgh.

Quotes of the Day

On Weighing the Benefits of Being Perverted
"Because then I can increase the number of comments that make reference to your breasts."
-A guy with really hot toes*

On Heroic Feats
"They nedd...hysterically funny miryam to sab=ve them from beeeeeeeeep-the-dudd. ...and spellcheck to save her!"
-Miryam

*please note that "a guy with really hot toes" is not the quotee's name but just a pseudonym to protect his privacy. (Don't ask...)

It Was Just My Birthday and Now I'm 52

Driving to school this morning, I needed to adjust the air in my car at least twenty-seven times. First, it was cold. Then it was so hot I had to take my jacket off (yes, while driving). Then I needed the heat on again, so I turned off the air conditioner and made it heat. And so on and so forth.

I walked into the Hillel room. It was boiling; I opened the window.

I went to meet two classmates to study for our midterm. I froze.

And then, as if a mad number of hotflashes wasn't enough, I started getting the soft-foods-craving. That's right, it was yogurt. I had to have yogurt. I neeeeeeeeded to have yogurt. So on my way to my car, I stopped into Food Emporium and picked up a yogurt and a package of plastic utensils.

Of course, satisfying a craving on the fly just doesn't do it for me (and really shouldn't for anyone), so I put my stuff down in my car, took out a spoon from the ones I bought, and stood on the sidewalk right outside of my car falling into bliss. Yes, yogurt was bliss.

I am officially an old lady.

I Hate Stalkers!!!

I have two screennames. I made myself a newish one a while back but still used the old one on occasion. Now AIM gives you linking screenname options, so I do that--why not? So anyway, one screenname is normal. I use it with people I work with...when I have to put up IM contact info anywhere...and basically keep my away messages normal because my dad IMs me on it, too. So do strangers, cause, y'know, I use it as contact info.
But tonight I get an IM on my old screenname--on the screenname that really few people still use and certainly no strangers know...

FreakyStalker: HELLO THERE
BewilderedMe: hi
FreakyStalker: HOW R U
BewilderedMe: good
FreakyStalker: thats nice
FreakyStalker: where r u tonigth
BewilderedMe: home
FreakyStalker: having fu
FreakyStalker: n
BewilderedMe: who are you?
FreakyStalker: who r u
BewilderedMe: you IMed me, I'm assuming you know who I am
FreakyStalker: i know your increidbly gorgeous with a lkilelr body
BewilderedMe: I know you're ridiculous and a stalker
FreakyStalker: vos
BewilderedMe: vos?
FreakyStalker: machste
BewilderedMe: pardon?

I think this is a trend because just last night AND today I got a scary stalker IM from someone using Yahoo! Messenger AND I WASN'T EVEN VISIBLY ON! At least when I need a life I make surveys and Millard Fillmore Fan Club Merch., not scare people.

Quotes of the Day

On Missed Opportunities
"I wish we were still in the days of apprenticeships and marrying at 20."
-Nukes

From the IM of a Silly Boy
"Can Doni and I play baseball in your living room tomorrow?"
-Moishele

The Love of My Life

And Ruth Reichl's come out with another book. I love that woman! Yes, that's right, I said it--love and woman in the same sentence. From her humonganoid jewfro to her Hemingwayesque style of writing, could there be a single person more sexy, smart, or idolizable than she? No, I think not.

First, there was Tender at the Bone, in which Reichl as a young girl finds that "food could be a way of making sense of the world. . . . If you watched people as they ate, you could find out who they were." On a personal note, my favorite part in that book was when she had a crazy party at her house one weekend (as was common since her parents would leave her with the house for days at a time) at which they ended up baking a chocolate cake! (Note: you're welcome to purchase the $5.13 used hardcover copy from bn.com for me...I will love you forever.)
Next came Comfort Me with Apples, which has tenure on my bookshelf between Dershowitz's The Case for Israel and Saul Bellow's Ravelstein...

It had been a short trip. It had been forever. When I got home the house seemed less empty and Michael less like a stranger. I was filled with a strange serenity.
"You're crazy," said my mother when I told her what I thought lay behind this extraordinary feeling. "It's all been too much for you. Have you seen a doctor?"
"No," I said. "I don't need to. I know."
"How late are you?" she asked.
"One day," I said.
"Ruthie," she lamented, "stop it. When would you have gotten pregnant?"
"When Michael and I were in the Napa Valley," I saide, certain that it was true.
"It's just wishful thinking," my mother insisted.
"I think I'll go get one of those home pregnancy kits," I said dreamily.
"Yes," she replied, "please. Get it over with quickly. The sooner you find out the truth, the less disappointed you will be."
My doctor said much the same thing when I called her. "Those home pregnancy kits are very unreliable." She sighed as if she wished she could wipe them all off the market. "You might as well come in and let us give you a real test."
That one was positive too, but she remained wary. "Don't get your hopes up," she warned. "You're forty-one years old. The chances that you will carry this baby to term are very slim. You've been through a lot. If I were you, I wouldn't tell anyone about this. Not even Michael."
"Of course not," I said. Then I got in my car and drove straight to Michael's office.
"What are you doing here?" he asked when he saw me. "Is something wrong?"
"No," I replied. "For the first time in a very long time, nothing is wrong."
"So why have you come?"
"To tell you that we're going to have a baby."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
This time I had absolutely no doubts.

I tell you, this woman rocks. And, as if just OWNING Comfort Me with Apples and getting to read her Letter from the Editor when my monthly Gourmet Magazine comes isn't enough, my parents gave me the Gourmet Cookbook autographed by my goddess herself for my birthday.

Sigh...

Wow! This is Genius!

I started with "Quote/Quotes of the Day" on Sunday, March 6th, just for fun. I didn't realize it at the time--but the magnitude of that little feature exploded into competitions (Randy and Miryam, anyone?) and a very large fan-following.
Surprised? So was I.
I would like to give a "Quote of the Month Award" to the most deserving recipient, but that wouldn't be possible without you, fans (...we need you!).
And so, go--vote--knock yourselves out!

Vote on the Quote of the Month!

...and the link to the survey will also be located on the right side of this site under Links until I close it.

I love reading this comic--Soup to Nutz--because the youngest kid in this three child family reminds me of myself when I was growing up. Or even still today...

Quotes of the Day

On the Complexities of the Human Body
"I dont think there's enough blood in my brain right now for Dina humor."
-Yehuda

On His Favorite Topics (That Would be Me and Dorkiness)
"It's not like there's a threshold of dorkiness you haven't passed."
-Randy

Why, Why Must I Be So Unnormal?

Okay, I'll admit that this midterm thing is really ruining my life. Really--if I didn't have something to do I wouldn't be doing what I am right now! Procrastinating, that is. So, after reading something about JDate on Jewlicious, I started to think, "hmmm, maybe reactivating the profile I made on JDate last year's not such a bad idea...after all, it's not like I'm doing anything productive with my time, anyway."
I joined JDate in the first place because last year at my internship, Melissa, a Catholic girl, complained to me and Marshall (another Jew in our office) that she is jealous that all the guys on JDate are hot, smart, and have good jobs. So, we joined me for her.
Anyway, I go on tonight and reactivate my profile and within FIVE FRIGGIN SECONDS of doing that I get two messages...

guy no. 2: i am jeff
me: good to know
guy no. 2: ha
guy no. 2: whats urs
me: I am brownsvillegirl
guy no. 2: nice to meet u =)
...
guy no. 2: what part of town do u live in
me: why, do you want to come over?
guy no. 2: just making chit chat
me: ah...so that's what they're calling it
guy no. 2: yes

aaaaaaahahahhahahahahahahahaha I think I have successfully scared him away. I hope at least. And here I was thinking the "I want to have a bajillion kids" in my profile would do the trick for me...

I Feel Like I'm in First Grade Again

Randy: "have you seen 'Puppetry of the Penis'?"
Me: "nopes, but I saw 'We are the Sperm Cells' dance around."

For those of you who DON'T attend Hunter, the strangest school on the East coast, "We are the Sperm Cells" were dancing around the tables on the third floor one day to avenge those who plastered the school with "The Vagina Monologues" and "Vaginas are Coming" and "Watch Out for the Vaginas" and "If You Have a Penis, Run and Never Come Back because Vaginas are Taking Over" and well, you get the point (let's just say it reached the level where we were going out of our minds from the number of times we were bombarded by the words "The Vagina Monologues" in the halls of Hunter).

Weird People are Everywhere

I answered the door a few minutes ago to find this man I'd never seen before standing there.
"Is your father home?" he said.
"Erm, no. He's not..."
"Do you know when he will be?"
I thought for a minute. "No, sorry, I don't."
I started closing the door when the man started talking again. "Is his car here?"
"Oh, yeah!" I said, "Now that you bring it up, his car is here! As a matter of fact, my father has this eccentric habit of actually sitting in his car in the driveway about three steps from the house when he's bored. Thank God you reminded me--let me go get him."
Okay, so maybe I just looked at him and told him that my father's car was, in fact, not home, closed the door, and made a weird face.

Quotes of the Day

On Needing to be Loved
"No, 'I hope this makes it on quote of the day.' (That's the quote!)"
-Randy

Upon Hearing that I Have a Secret Facebook Stalker
"I would think that dorky pic would repel any potential stalkers."
-Randy, again.

My shalach manot (which I think are really cool!).

This is my favorite picture without a baby in it. (credit goes to my dad who really wanted a normal picture. haha!)

Me and my cuz. And I vow to take off my shoes from now on when there's a camera around.

My very thin cousin's plate. She eats like an obese man would!

...and dessert.

The seudah.

Purim Pictures!

Chag sameach!
I spent the meal with a few munchkins and some relatives. I have some amazingly gorgeous pictures of the monkeys, but I don't feel comfortable putting them here, so sorry, you don't get to see them (unless you ask me, then I'll show you). Anyway, here are the pictures I am going to put up cause they pass my comfortability test...

Enjoy. And chag sameach!

Quote of the Day

On Nineties Nostalgia...
"I don't have enough lime green t-shirts."
-Randy

So Strange

This is the longest break I ever had.

Damn...have I changed?

Quotes of the Day

On Lunch at Hunter Hillel
"By the way did you take my beer yesterday?"
-Doni

On Current Events
"Kyrgyzstan's claim to fame is having a 10-letter name with only one real vowel."
-Randy

Randy finally credited me for his picture on Facebook!

It started snowing while I was driving to the bus this morning. Then it turned to rain. Then it snowed again when I was running to school from the bus. Then it turned to rain. Then it rained in the city and snowed at home. How hot is snow?

Who Knew?

This little addiction I have of tracking how people came to my sites is a little out of hand, I realized today, but sometimes it pays off. Often, people are brought to CampusJ or Punks (or even here) through Google searchs. So when I saw someone got to CampusJ through a Google search, I didn't think anything of it. Then I clicked on the link and found that the search was for...um...me! And my whole name was even in quotation marks! So weird. And I'm officially weirded out l'olam vaed.

Quote of the Day

On Having a Big Appetite
"I eat Fridays and occasionally Saturdays."
-Gene

I made the most amazing Sweet Potato soup for myself tonight. As I told Mir, describing it as "oh my God" does not do it justice. If I were to orgasm right now--now THAT would describe how amazing it was.

Bloop

I thought about how stupid I am in class the other day. There was a heated debate going on in the Hillel room, as usual, and I--so stupidly--got involved. But this discussion/argument/sharing of ideas was not like most of the ones we have. This one had to do with religious ideology.
I hate getting into discussions about religious ideology because I think they’re pointless. I like discussions that arrive somewhere, but if I’m set in my ideals and you’re set in yours and we’re both not interested in budging, what the hell are we talking for? Which is what bothered me about yesterday’s discussion.
The thing that got to me wasn’t so much that the girl I was talking to and I had such different points but that we both arrived at our decisions differently. And try as I did, I could not respect her. So now I’m just sad, sorry, and stupid.
As often as I may pass judgments on people, I never hold them accountable to what I decided. This is why I’m never surprised by what people tell me about things they’ve done in their pasts or even things about themselves right now. If there’s one thing I like about myself, it’s this ability of mine.
But the other day I just found myself so frustrated. I hate selfishness. It bugs the heck out of me (I think I see it a lot because I’m a totally selfish person, but that’s another story altogether). So, when I was still in Hillel, I wondered, how do I tell this girl that I can’t even ask her to understand what I’m saying because the way she sees things is antithetical to my point. So this is me ranting while trying to be vague so that in case the girl sees this and knows it’s her I’m referring to she doesn’t feel hurt but I can’t be vague so I think I should just stop even though I think I missed even expressing my point.

Quote of the Day

On Dreams and Aspirations
"Ah, what I would do to be an o-girl..."
-Randy

Blah Blah and Blah

I just read this article in the New York Times and don't think I've laughed harder ever in my whole life! Well, maybe once or twice, but this is so funny!
To sum it up, a couple of students, after hiring help to clean their dorms during their Freshman year, started a business called DormAid (originally DorMaid!) from which a student can hire someone to clean their dorm for at least $17.99 a roommate. But theeeeeeeen a bunch of students got fired up that this business will only emphasize the class differences between students at Harvard. Ha! That's a good one.

Still, Mr. Novy, a visiting student from Germany, said he could understand the class warfare argument.
"I definitely wouldn't tell my parents about it," Mr. Novy said. "They were students in the 60's, and they wouldn't have ordered such a service for political reasons. They would have probably done a sit-in in front of the apartments."

In other news, my cousin tried picking my nose once.

I'm Dead Meat

This may very well be my last day alive.

I have a new addiction: I like to click on the little rainbowy square on my CampusJ page and then look at the "By Referrals" thing. If that's not descriptive enough: I like to see what brought people to my page. It's a little spyingish, but I think it's fun. So I added a little rainbowy square to Punks and this blog. Just for fun, y'know, just for fun. And I added them today.
Well, this checking thing is an addiction of mine, so I can't help but check. I checked Punks today and found that someone was referred to my post about my experience with Dean Escoci and all the rest of the stupid administration at the terribly horrible school I go to. Then I clicked on the referral and bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep (that's me realizing that I am so going to regret saying that I know who it was and how I know because apparently everything I put on the internet comes back to haunt me).

I am so dead.

UPDATE: I wrote something halfway mean and halfway apologetic for Punks.

Sometimes I Just Write Because I Want To

If you didn't know that I'm weird, I'll tell you. I'm weird. I wore my long black skirt today because I was in the mood to. Only, my long black skirt is a spring skirt so it's made with a light material that looks funny when my boots stick out at the bottom. So I borrowed my mother's naot. Understand that it's universally known that backless shoes worn with socks is just about as unsexy as you can get so I wore no socks. Only, it was about 40 degrees this morning. So there I was waiting for the bus--thick, fuzzy scarf, short denim jacket, long springy skirt, and naot with no socks. And I didn't even have a coffee or tea like I sometimes do. I didn't even have something warm in my stomach because I didn't have hot cocoa or oatmeal for breakfast. I had carrots with chummus. Yeah, for breakfast. But you shoulda expected that, I already told you I'm weird.

Quote of the Day

On What She Did This Shabbos
"And then I went to my grandmas and she talked to me about masturbation."
-Eliana

I have a very sad obsession with taking pictures of inanimate objects.

This couple has got to be the most Jewish couple ever!

"As she did so, it was easy for friends and family to imagine the bride and bridegroom passionately disagreeing about something, but not letting it affect their relationship.
...The couple, Mr. Sperling added, "certainly challenge each other, but they seem to have an effective resolution mechanism. They do a great job of negotiating."

Greasy Grimy Gopher Guts

Here's a song Miryam taught me:

Boys are made of
greasy grimy gopher guts,
Chopped up parakeet,
mutilated monkey meat,
French fried eyeballs rolling down a dirty street
Aren't you glad you brought your spoon?

Babies

I hung out with my cousin's daughter Bat-Tzion Friday night before the meal. The next day in shul, there was a woman with an adorable munchkin in front of me. I offered to hold her daughter so that she could take her coat off. She was overly thankful and I was overly happy. After Shabbos, I hung out with Bat-Tzion a little more and I have one thing to say: I WANT TO HAVE A BABY!

Deep Thoughts

Forget a "Quote of the Day!" Today I bring you...

Deep Thoughts by Miryam E.

"If I was blind, I wouldn't be able to see."

Oh my Goodness. These are the hottest shoes ever!

Yesterday We Celebrated

This is how much I love my friends!
After yesterday (last night included)...

I'll write more after I upload my pictures.

Quote of the Day

On Her Boots
"I think these are on the wrong feet..."
-Devorah

Breakfast

Today for breakfast, I had two pieces of this delicious pecan, caramel, chocolate chocolate, bbq tortilla chips with chummus, two vanilla wafers, a fork of cole slaw, and a hot cocoa.
I totally forgot that last night after Randy told me he only likes me for my "gazongas" I decided I'm gonna diet until I lose them!

Quote of the Day

On Thinking My Birthday's Tomorrow...
"Speak to you in a few hours :)"
-Steve

Parking

Allow me just a moment to relay how much luck I had today with regard to parking. I left home this morning at about 8:20...twenty minutes later than I had intended. With morning traffic, I like insuring myself that I get to Hunter at around 9:30/9:45ish when I drive so that I can get a spot before the 10am legitimate parking starts. I turned left onto Lexington at 9:59 and at exactly ten o'clock on the dot, I pulled into the only spot left in front of school--smack in front of Thomas Hunter. Once inside school, I counted my quarters and found that I had exactly enough to last me the day (a miracle in itself). Then, when I went out to put money in my meter for the 1 o'clock hour, I noticed that the meter in the spot in front of mine was broken. There was a car parked there, so it made no difference to me. BUT as I was filling up my meter for the 3 o'clock hour, the car in front of mine pulled out! Luckily, I ran out to fill the meter while in middle of flyering for an event next week, so I had my keys in my pocket (I carried them around in case the Hillel room would be closed when I got back) and pulled my car up so that I wouldn't have to run out of school every hour!
As if that wasn't enough, I went to the gym at 6:30pm today instead of around 8:00pm like usual. The gym I go to is at the mall, so it's tough finding a spot that early. I, however, didn't even have to look for a spot because there was a vacancy in the third spot in the row right in front of the gym entrance!
I had the force today, I tell you.

It's official!
People are bizarrely weird!
Miryam took me out today for my birthday.
"So, what's Hunter like?" The guy behind the counter asked her.
"Um, it's a school."
"Yeah? What are you majoring in?"
So she told him.
"Really? Psychology? So can you tell me what I'm thinking right now?"
"No," she said, "because I'm not a psychic."

Messages of the Day

Instead of a Quote of the Day, since that would definitely be "happy birthday," I am going to post the most fun birthday wishes I got:

I had a feeling you would turn 20 some day. You know I always believed in you, toots.
I must take this oppurtunity to thank you for setting me straight ; )
btw, I think you have a really nice pair...
...of boots!
-your not-so-secret admirer

After giving me a series of wishes for the coming year, Dima added, "and lots of babies..."

And Ian said something with a heavy Yiddish accent that was really funny even though I couldn't tell what it was.

So, um, do I know any girls?

:)

I thought I'd wake up early, go to the gym to study Poli Sci, come home and bake a bread, go for lunch with Miryam, work on my papers, and be productive. That was what I envisioned my birthday to be like. Instead, I woke at about 9:00 starving. Realizing that the last time I ate was at 1:00pm the day before when I was the WZO meeting (two coffees, two plates of salad, and a strawberry), I went downstairs to find something to eat. I ended up poking all the apples out of what remained of the apple pie my mother made for Shabbos, along with some of the crust. Tummy aching from too much sugar too early in the day, I went back upstairs, changed into gym clothes, got into bed, and took a nap.

It's a Happy Birthday!

My plans:

• Call Grandma to thank her for her card and gift.


• Call Aunt Aline and Uncle Al in Florida to thank them, too.


• Study for my Poli Sci exam.


• Write my second story for Fiction class.


• Revise my essay for Essay class.


• Go to the gym.


• Talk to Mommy about things that need to be discussed.

Oh, and it's my birthday!
:)

Quotes of the Day

On Popularity
"It's easy to get a nipple to like you."
-Yehuda

In Response to My Defense Tactics
"Stop! You might trigger the stapling mechanism."
-Randy

Quote of the Day

On My Blue Sweater
"Yeah--your boobs looked super-perky!"
-Chaya (my been-shomeret-too-long-friend!)

I love this!

This is how big my smile gets when I hold an adorable baby!!!

I think this one's really sexy, too. And that's that for that!

Sexy.

We look a little scary in this one, but I love it anyway!

My Cousin, the Beautiful!

Quote of the Day

In response to my mother's claims that the windshield only whistles when the car's speeding.
"Uh, no. Because Daddy's doing 80."
-My brother Ari

So Sick

I had my father drive me to the doctor today because it was snowing, my car doesn’t handle inclement weather very well, and I’m not feeling well. He was waiting for me in the lobby area while I was waiting for the doctor in the office room.
With my hands at my sides to support my weight on the edge of the paper-covered bench, I rocked myself back and forth, matching the rhythm of my swinging legs. Here I was, a full four days short of turning twenty, and I realized that I just don’t want to grow up.
When I was younger, I'd make my father carry me around all the time. He used to always say, "when you turn five, I'm not going to carry you anymore." This line was modified every year, of course, "when you turn six..." "when you turn seven..." until I turned eight and was told that I was too old to be carried. And that was the end of that.
When I was in first grade, my parents gave me a book called So Sick! for Chanukah. I threw a full-fledged, mad tearful tantrum that I wouldn’t read it. They told me it was easy reading and that if I tried, I'd like it...but I didn’t want to try because if I tried and found that I could, in fact, read by myself, my mother and father wouldn't read to me anymore. Or at least I thought.
In an attempt to clear my mind from these silly memories, I glanced down at the form the nurse had filled out about me on the doctor's desk to see what it said. I read my height and my weight to myself and stirred the two numbers around in my head until they took on a significance that they didn’t have before. The last time I went to the doctor, I weighed four pounds less. The time before that, I weighed nine pounds less...I had to stop thinking about this.
My head was stuffy and the room was swinging around my head. But then, I was shaking myself back and forth. I needed to lay down, but I didn't want to seem like a little child.
I don’t think that numbers mean a lot. 20...19...18...all ages are really indistinguishable from each other. No big deal, I think, whether I'm 20 or 19. But now people expect me to be an adult. When I was faced with my Dean Escott episode, I felt like I was supposed to handle the situation on my own. It's what people expected of me. Only, I didn't know if I liked that.
When you're a kid, people don't expect you to know how to handle a situation--they wait for your questions and sometimes even offer guidance before they come. But when you're an adult, even though you don't know any more than you did when you were a kid, they expect you to know what you're doing.
"I’m a baby!" I wanted to shout in the tiny doctor's office. "I'm just a little girl!"
I wanted to crawl into a fetal position and sleep. But, of course, I didn't.
So when the doctor came in, I acted mature. When my father and I walked to the car and went to pick up my medication, I acted adult-like. When we got home, I didn't say, "mommy, could you just give me a hug and tell me that no matter how old I get, you'll love me and want to protect me the way you did when I was five?" I simply took my medication and went up to my room to take a nap. I'll get there, I'm sure, I'll get there.

Quote of the Day

I Went to The Doctor Today
"I'm assuming you don't smoke..." Look up.
I nod.
"And you don't drink or do any drugs, either. Right? I just have to ask, you know, because it's on the form." Look up.
I nod.

Quote of the Day

While Avidly Studying Doni's Psychology of Human Sexuality Book...
"This is Porn, the text book."
-Randalls

My Gates

Well, what do you know...
Apparently, my pictures of The Gates have been checked out so many times that it's second on Google's response to Brownsvillegirl.
As for that 30 year old Lesbian--I promise that isn't me!

Last Night

The only light in the room was coming from my clock. The yellow-green numbers shone 2:44. I turned over so that I wouldn't have to see it. I could have just closed my eyes, but ignorance is easier than denial. Besides, my eyes wouldn't stay closed.
My pillow felt like Yacov's stone, my room was stuffy, and my nose was clogged. I reached over to open the window a bit so that I wouldn't be locked in a closed room with trapped cold germs. The wind came into my room louder and occasionally carried with it snow. I felt them on my cheek, droplets of crystallized water frosting my skin and then melting into the artificially heated room air. My sleep still wouldn't come.

Pray that I get to sleep tonight!

Quote of the Day

On What Constitutes Hotness
"This guy in my class looks like a Nazi. He's so damn hot."
-Miryam

Banks and Books

While running to my car (yes, I run on days when I wear sneakers) from a meeting I had at the WZO, I passed the bank I interned at the summer I was seventeen.
I am so different than I was when I worked there that I actually started laughing out loud while running on the sidewalk in New York City. Yes, I have issues.
That internship was, without a question, the worse job I ever had. But while my job sucked really bad, my summer was amazing. I was actually thinking about that the other day while I was cleaning my room and listening to Janis. Every time I listen to Janis Joplin, it reminds me of the time I was in Bryant Park on a Wednesday afternoon (I called in sick at work that day) and Broadway at the Park...or what ever it is they called it...was there and they were singing songs from "Love, Janis" while I laid on the grass reading Fight Club and drinking an iced smoothie drink thing from Ben & Jerry's. That was the day I fell in love with Janis Joplin and permanently associated hangovers with happiness. Ah, bliss.

Happy Anniversary, Parents

It's March Ninth, Two-Thousand-Five. My parents got married precisely 24 years ago. Mazal tov, Mommy. Mazal tov, Daddy.
When I was younger, I used to love hearing the story of how my parents met and the courting process that ensued following that initial meeting. But now I look at the story and I'm really confused. My mother got married a month before her twentieth birthday. I'm turning twenty in about a week and on some days I can't ever imagine making a decision that weighty while on other days, I'm convinced that I’m ready to.
It's strange, this whole "love" thing. Do you really love someone when you're marrying him or her, or do you just see a potential there for lifelong happiness together? (Besides, I have my own definition of love that not everyone I know agrees with.)
I had a discussion with my mother a couple of months ago where she told me she wasn’t comfortable with my disregard for something she was sensitive to (although she didn’t say it bluntly like I just did). That conversation got me realizing a lot about relationships I hadn’t realized before.
There was a guy I shidduched once whom I just wasn’t into. At all. But he had such admirable middot, I couldn’t place what I felt was off and when I did figure it out, wasn’t able to articulate it properly. I chalked it up to, “he’s too morally straight for me. I can’t imagine that he’d understand my moral struggles.” But that wasn’t what I meant--and there were a few other things, too.
He and I had different sensitivities. He would never understand my moral struggles not because he was more moral than I was, but because we were sensitive to completely different things. Similarly, my sister and I constantly argue over what turn into ideological differences because she’s only eight hundred million times more sensitive to Halachah than I am and I’m a lot more sensitive to kavod habriyot than she is.
So I decided that the foundation for a successful relationship has to be either similar sensitivities or, something that may take more time to develop, a mutual respect for each other’s sensitivities. But that theory, as all theories I eventually realize (I tend to be slow on the picking-up-on-things-most-everyone-already-knows), will be developed into something profound at some point. Maybe when I’m actually in a relationship that works out.
For now I can just say that Miryam and I are both proud of the fact that we’ve each only cried over one guy in all our lives. Although, I actually cried over the same boy twice--but that’s a whole other essay.

Urgh.

I wrote an essay for my essay class and it needs mega work done to it. Only, I don't even know where to begin. So, I keep opening it, reading it, re-browsing it, and scrolling through it and I have reached the conclusion that not only is it lacking the real issue I wanted it to go into, but the structure sucks and my sentences are even worse.
But I love the beginning and I like the ending. So now what?

UEJF in NYC Link

To read about my meeting with the Hot French kids who were in New York last week, click here.

Quote of the Day

On, well, Goodness Only Knows What
"What if I told you that I know a gay guy who has a crush on you?"
-Dandy Randy (and no, he wasn't referring to himself)

Dandy Randy's At It Again

Randy is scarily infatuated with me. I clicked the link in his profile today to Facebook him and was brought to my own profile. He throws markers and pens at me all the time, just like little boys who'd then run from the girls they are totally into screaming "cooties." He calls me by endearing nicknames. He made me O-Girl of the month and worked on the bio for about a month--a month--interviewing me. He loves reading my essays, too.
Must be my high levels of testosterone.

I'm Not Getting Anywhere

My plans for today were:

• Change The Raging Bull, Biscuit, and The Fish Formerly Known as Phish's water.
  
• Call a bunch of organizations about helping us fund that music festival I'm working on.
  
• Go out to eat with Mir.
  
• Get back to my stalker from the Israeli Consulate.
  
• Clean my room.
  
• Buy a purple nail polish that isn't so old it goops.
  
• Revise my essay I haven't even titled.
  
• Write Chaim an email.

What I managed to accomplish (so far):

• Eat out with Miryam.
  
• Buy one purple, one pink, and one purpley-pink nail polish.
  
• Waste time.
  
• Give myself a pedicure.
  
• Have coffee and pie with mom.
  
• Spill coffee on skirt.

You're the Doofus

See, "doofus" is hip slang. I am not old-fashioned or in fourth grade!

Quotes of the Day

On Seeing the Cup Half Full
“On the plus side, my cheekbone looks really good right now.”
-Miryam

Oh, That Bus...

I drove to school today because I didn’t want to have to take the bus. There’s a song by The Band called Twilight. It goes, "Don't leave me alone in the twilight/'cause twilight is the loneliest time of day." But we all know that isn’t true (only mentioning it because I was listening to The Band while driving in).
The loneliest time of day is when you’re on the bus by yourself. See, no matter how down or unhappy or upset you are, when you're around other people you have to be happy. When you're in class, you're not going to mope. When you're hanging with friends, you're not going to frown. But when you're sitting alone on the bus staring out the window at the wasteland of New Jersey on your way home with only your thoughts and emotions to keep you entertained, it's depressing. Couple that with a cloud of downness that hit you a while ago and has yet to lift and by the time the bus is rolling out of the tunnel, you've got tears rolling down your face.
Not that I was lonely today, but I was upset and spacey and unhungry. So I drove. Works for me.

Quotes of the Day

On Education
"I would hire you as my kallah teacher any day."
-Chaya

On Love and Forgetfulness
"So maybe I just want to be an ogre."
-Miryam

We've Crashed and Now We're Burned

We both knew it was coming. After all, I spent this week being mad hyper and she was strangely quiet. So when she said, "I just wish this year'd be over," and I found myself apetiteless, it was no surprise. I just find it strange that it's been hitting us the same time.

I Can Rant if I Want To

I was driving to Livingston on Friday when "Tears in Heaven" came on the radio. For the first time in, well, a very long time, I thought of that time when we were sixteen and my cousin played "Tears in Heaven" on that guy in the subway's guitar--which has got to be one of my favorite memories ever. I remembered that I was wearing my black slip-skirt, which means that I couldn't have weighted more than 105 pounds or so. Since this was sometime in the winter I was sixteen, which is the last season of my birthday years, I started thinking about my past birthdays. On my seventeenth birthday, Sara E. and Gila E. baked me a Duncan Heinz cake and messed it up. Hard feat, but they managed to pull it off. What we all learned from that cake was that if you spike Duncan Heinz mix with Vodka, the cake will shrink in the oven. They, of course, frosted it with chocolate frosting anyway, and brought it to school in the original (and too big) pan. On my eighteenth birthday, Sara E. gave me Shopaholic Ties the Knot, the third book of the Shopaholic trilogy, Tzippy S. gave me The Rules because her father had given it to her and she thought it reminded her of me (even though it's not really like me), and someone else gave me about five or six Dylan cd's. I remember my parents gave me something, but I wasn't expecting anything because they had just sent me to London with a friend for winterbreak (which was my dream ever since...oh, I don't even know when). For my nineteenth birthday, a guy I was seeing took me out to eat and to the Allman Brothers at the Beacon later that week. I love birthdays, they're just a substantial excuse to party (unlike Valentine's Day, which is a made up reason, or New Year's, which I can't stand). I can't wait to turn 20.

Jimmy, Jonathan, and Celia: my new hot French friends, with me (looking awful).

Need I Say More?

Thou Shalt Not Use The Allman Brothers' Name in Vain

I started reading an article in the NYTimes, and when I came up to this part, "the band occupies cultural real estate somewhere between William Faulkner and the Allman Brothers," I immediately stopped reading the article and ran to their site to hear what they've got.
Well, they suck. It's not that their music or production value's all that bad, but the thing that makes the ABB as great as they are is their commitment to their blues influence and Southern roots. This band? They just don't have that.
I can't imagine what David Carr was thinking when he mentioned the Allman Brothers. I mean, really, do we fans look like we can be fooled that easily?

Today I am a Woman

My mother called from the mall asking if I could make turkey.
“If it doesn’t make you too nauseated, there are two packages of turkey legs in the fridge, could you make one?” she said.
The thought made me sick, but since I’m working on my selfishness, I went downstairs and took the turkey out of the fridge. I put gloves on and cut the package open. I put the three drumsticks in a pan and put the gloves into the sink. After sprinkling the turkey with garlic powder and pouring duck sauce over them, I covered the tin with silverfoil and put it into the oven.
I’ve cut chicken and meat on Yachad shabbatonim in the past. But I’ve never dealt with raw dead animals before. I can’t even buy the stuff because that section in grocery stores makes me feel sick. Sad, I know. But today, I made food I’d never go near because it’s about time I grow up.

I Want the Boogeyman Back

It’s 3:20am on a Tuesday morning and I won’t go to sleep. I had a nightmare and now I’m afraid to drift off and experience it again. It’s not so much a dream as it is a sensation. And I’ve had it before. I can’t remember if I’ve felt this twice, but I definitely had this nightmare once before.
If you’ve read Harry Potter and you know what the dementors are, I’m pretty sure J.K. Rowling had this feeling too and used it as her basis for the dementors.
Not feeling safe in my bed, I turned my lamp on. Then I put on my glasses, opened my laptop, and started writing. I like that my nightmare sounded ridiculous when written down because I know that it was. It’s just hard telling myself that when I did just feel it.

Snow in the City

It snowed today.

And yes, I'm a big snow fan.