4

The Struggle is Real

Sometimes, it’s Passover, and you have peaches for dinner with tuna for dessert.

And you have your apartment being shown tomorrow and everything is covered in matzah dust or books. Or both.

And you’re pulling out every trick in the book (games, food, Golden Girls, blogging) to avoid finishing your paper which you could do in about five minutes but you just don’t want to.

And you realize you can’t make matzah ball soup because you don’t have Kosher for Passover cooking oil which costs like $12.99 at the store.

And you realize you have about six hundred pages of reading over the next few days, in addition to APO and dance obligations.

And you’re having trouble enrolling for next semester because you probably waited too long to make up your damn mind about which classes to take.

And you just kinda feel like you’re waiting for something to go wrong.

Well, more wrong than being grabbed around the waist and freaking the fuck out in front of your entire dance class.

5

Top Ten Things a Stoner Might Say on Easter

In honor of today being both Easter Sunday and 4/20, I thought I’d make a list.

 

Top Ten Things a Stoner Might Say on Easter

10. “Man, these little green plastic streamers aren’t working…what did you line the kids’ Easter baskets with again?”

9. “I have risen! Hahahaha just kidding I’m so totally not high right now.”

8. “You seen a big tall rabbit anywhere around here?”

7. “Under my Easter bonnet…no one can see how high I am.”

6. “I’ll show you how this Easter Egg rolls…”*

5. “GIMME YOUR CHOCOLATE BUNNY, LITTLE GIRL IN MARY JANES”

4. “Haha, Mary Janes.”

3. “Dude. I want some ham.”

2. “Mmm…baked ham. Hahahaha”

1. “Whatever man. Is Taco Bell open today?”

 

Whether you did Easter or did drugs today, hope you had a good one.

It’s still Passover, so I did matzah today.

 

*Can’t take full credit for this one. My friend Hannah told me that even though Madison is a hippie-dippie kinda place, they had an Easter egg roll on the Capital lawn rather than some sort of marijuana-related event, which surprised me. I then suggested that they hide chocolate eggs and charge stoners $10 to find them, to which she suggested that if there was a way to stuff a slice of pizza in the egg, that would be even better.

2

Mr. Know-It-All

I am a pretty calm person when it comes to dealing with other people. I have a pretty thick skin and I can take it better than I can dish it out. But there are some things that people say and do that just rile me.

Like know-it-alls. Know-it-alls come in all types. There’s the child know-it-all, one part wunderkind, two parts annoying; the best friend know-it-all, which can be comforting at times but grating at others; the sibling know-it-all, known to be the cause of rivalry (but deny it to the death), and then there’s the worst type of know-it-all.

Yes, I’m talking about the know-it-all religious figure.

They’re the type of people who give your religion a bad name. For all the wonderful people I’ve encountered in my religious circle, unfortunately it’s the ones who act like bigshots who often have the most visibility. Not to say that others are shrinking violets, but the outspoken nature of the religious know-it-all overshadows all but the most bold of their compatriots.

Today, I had Shabbat lunch and third-meal at the home of a local rabbi, whose name I am not going to say, mostly because I can never remember what it is (one of the good things about rabbis – they all respond to the same name: rabbis). He’s a good guy, as most guys are, but sometimes there’s this smarmy aura about him, as if he imagines himself as the center of the universe. I’m not knocking his religious education, but one of the things about rabbis is that they shouldn’t put you down, or speak to you in a way that is a direct judgment on your character.

Lunch was fine, but at dinner, the topic of religiosity and religious parenting came up. I know I was kind of setting myself up here, but someone else at the table mentioned that her parents came from two very different religious backgrounds, neither of which were Orthodox, and I added in that my parents also came from two very different religious backgrounds, with one Orthodox and one not so much, causing Rabbi Know-it-all to say:

“It’s impossible to raise a kid with one Orthodox parent and one non-Orthodox parent. It doesn’t work. It’s too confusing.”

Oh boy…

“Mine raised me Orthodox,” said I.

“Tell me more,” says the rabbi.

Me:

<Regret>

So, I go through the basics of how my parents met, how they raised us, and how I am today vs. how I lived when I was in their house, ending with “…my parents taught me that Shabbat was important but that my studies were as well, and if that meant doing homework on holidays/Shabbat, so be it. ”

</Regret>

His response?

“Well, that’s a mixed message, you could just as easily go to a club on Shabbos and they’d never know. It’s like a gateway into breaking Shabbos ::smarmy smile::”

Um, wha?

First of all, you don’t know me. Okay, that’s more of a gut reaction and a copout. But seriously, second of all, you have never met parents, lived in my house, or experienced my childhood. Third, and the most hurtful of all, is that you’re basically telling me that I have no self-control and that my religious views/my parents’ are based on lies. Is that something a religious figure and role model should be saying? No. That’s what a petulant, nose-picking moron on the playground or in the hallway would say. Everyone judges and gets judged by others over the course of his/her life, and that’s fine, but keep it to yourself unless you’re certain that the person might have a serious problem, in which case talk to them privately about it, if it matters that much to you. Also, you don’t have a say in how religious I am, and when you put it out there like that, I’m less likely to believe things that you say in the future. And when you jump to conclusions, bring a parachute; you might knock yourself into a hole in the ground.

I thought I would have more to say on this topic, but I think I’ve said my piece for now.

There is one kind of know-it-all that I can tolerate, and that is my parents. Don’t mess with them; when you insult them, you insult me.

15 Life Lessons Learned From "As Told By Ginger"

3

How to Make Mealtimes on Passover Much More Enjoyable

This day has turned out to be perfectly awful, capped off with my Internet deciding to go to Italy or something, so I’m posting this from my iPad, which means I’ll have to return later for tags and graphics.

On top of that, it’s still Passover. I know that my ancestors did my unborn soul a solid by getting out of Egypt, but couldn’t they have just brought some trail mix or something? Well, part of it is some old rabbis’ fault, but I won’t go into that right now.

I would like to, on another note, pay a tribute to something that has made my Passover a little more hassle-free, and that is the Solo cup.

Commonly seen at fraternity houses and beach bungalows, the red Solo cup is the iconic imagery of modern-day alcoholism. The fire-engine red plastic never goes with anything you’re wearing, but its color seems to be pleasing to the eye, mind, and soul of those seeking relief from midterms and taxes alike. Students from other countries are often surprised when they come to college in the USA that sometimes the cups may be blue. Its status has only been enhanced by the media exposure received from movies of the last twenty years; hundreds of Oscar-worthy performances yet never noticed by the Academy.

This Passover, I took stock of my utensil collection. I have my grandmother’s silverware, but my Passover flatware was left behind in Houston. Since I bought two sets of dishes once I got here, I never needed anything of the disposable sort. Upon opening my utility cabinet, I had a half-filled sleeve of plastic plates, but no plastic cups. So, I went to the grocery store and bought some red Solo cups for this purpose (and to make me feel young again). Once the holiday started, I realized just how useful red Solo cups are to the everyday consumer.

You can eat just about anything out of a red Solo cup.

Aside from any beverage, the red Solo cup is the perfect side for a bowl of soup, if you let it cool a little before hitting the plastic. Matzah balls act as ice cubes. For fresh fruits like berries or canned peaches, just put them in the cup, run it under some water, and you’re good to go. Speaking of snacking, they have a finger-bowl-like quality for any morsels out of a box or bag. Chicken or fish? No problem! Fold it over, stick it in the cup, and you can have one hand free and use a fork and spoon to cut it into pieces. Eggs are a snap: in omelet form, just slide that baby in, and in hard boiled form, it’s handy to have two on hand – one to hold the eggs, and one for the shells, and the yolks too if they’re not your thing, so you can dump it in the trash or down the disposal when you’re done. Believe it or not, you can also use plastic to save the environment too! You can eat out of one, drink from another, put biodegradable waste in one, and non-biodegradable waste like candy wrappers and drink pouches in the other, and dispose appropriately. How convenient! Another environmentally friendly function of the cups is their reusability. Wash them throughly immediately after use, and you can use them to enjoy another meal! Or, if you like, take the cup you ate your lunch from and turn it into your dinner disposal cup! Double duty, people! And clean-up’s a breeze – just lift it up and you’re done, no more sponging down the table!

The only Passover food that doesn’t quite work with the cup is matzah itself, but who needs matzah anyway?

Now, go out and get yourself some red Solo cups and rediscover the fun of eating at home!

0

Children Are Always Cute When Saying the Four Questions

And that’s just about the only time.

Yeah, I’m being serious.

Small children at meals usually mean that I need earplugs and two Advil. There’s just something about their voices screeching in unison at unholy pitches that just goes straight through the brain. With babies it’s somewhat more tolerable, since they don’t know what they’re doing, bless ’em. It’s the walkers-and-talkers who are germ-spreading, attention-seeking little future-people.

But at the Passover seder, it’s different.

The first night, I dined with YJP (which was supposed to be at the Concourse, but ended up moving to Chabad, oddly enough) and there were no children, so that was cool.

The second night, I returned to Chabad for an undergrad seder. Basically, it was four long tables of loud, obnoxious undergrads over whom the rabbi had to shout the seder.

At the normal point, the rabbi asked everyone to quiet down for the Four Questions, which the youngest children traditionally sing. The baby is still a baby, but fortunately most of the wild undergraduate elephants quieted their roar for the shy, overshadowed middle child to say the four questions with the help of his father. The talking got a little louder when the older, outspoken one started to do it double-time, English interspersed with Yiddish, but strangely, I found myself siding with the kid rather than the crowd. Maybe I like the underdog, or maybe I just intensely dislike the JAPs who go to Chabad because a) their parents told them to and b) they’re getting free food. And they’re probably going to hit up Wendy’s or Chipotle at the soonest opportunity. Or maybe because it’s actually a legit part of the seder.

The cool part of the seder was, after dinner, the rabbi directed anyone wishing to sing more songs over to our table. Because that’s how we Chabad regulars roll.

Not a lot of new visitors over the past few days, but welcome to The Bahamas. Bring friends. And now that I have people who actually read/comment…I’m taking suggestions.

4

Being Sick On Passover Sucks

It’s 4/14/14, so Happy Palindromic 1s and 4s day.

Just a brief life update.

I woke up this morning feeling really ill. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say that I knew I was sick. Especially when my stomach woke me up at 6:45 AM. Instead of being productive, I ended up spending most of the rest of the day between the couch and the bed in various states of sleep instead of cleaning for Passover or doing any work.

The worst part? Since it’s the day of Passover, I can’t really eat that much. I would’ve killed for a saltine, or even matzah (the tradition states that the matzah be first eaten at the seder). So I’ve been going on one bowl of soup and some soda.

Let’s see if I can make it through the seder…

2

Six More Things I Learned from Friends

So – total irony – I spent last night actually doing work instead of fretting over a post, and I actually had some good ideas for things to post, but I told myself I was going to focus on my work and I did. WILLPOWER.

However, after six pretty solid hours of class, I am ready to write something that isn’t school-related. That, and ready to stare at YouTube/TV/the wall for awhile.

Behold…

Six More Things I Learned from Friends

6. Fire safety.

Candlelight dinner in the park = starting an open fire in a wooded area, PHOEBE.

5. Martial arts.

…or, freshwater eel. And on that note…

4. Japanese cuisine

I know what you mean, Rachel Green.

3. Team sports.

Specifically, how to pick teams; just bunny up. (What’s bunny u-) “BUNNY!”

2. Holidays.

The only thing that’s wrong here is that it was Passover, not Chanukah…but yes, there were superheroes and flying involved. Smile on, Joey.

1. Military time.

Just subtract twelve. Thank you, Monica.