Who’s Wedding is it anyway?

Contrary to popular belief, but a Jewish wedding is not there to celebrate the marriage of girl A to boy B. Rather it is for the parents of girl A and Boy B to celebrate their children tying the knot. Sorry to shatter all engaged or dreamy girls dreams, imagining their wedding as “their DAY”. Your wedding is for your parents not you.

If it was up to me, I’d invite my friends, immediate family, maybe a few cousins, and that’s it to my wedding. But no, I’ll probably have to cut down my friend list to accommodate cousins and old family friends I never knew existed. I’ll smile at kabolas ponim, and kiss the cheeks of many people with scratchy skin, and firm handshakes wishing me a hearty “Mazal Tov”. I’ve seen my sisters go through it, and so will, in due time.

Yes, I’ll choose my gown, how I wear my hair blah blah blah, I did that for myself at my siblings wedding already, it doesn’t count. What counts is who comes and is invited…in which I my guest come in 2^nd.

People complain of a Shidduch Crisis, and my brother and I have realized that it’s out-of-town mothers that contribute to it. Many boys won’t go out with out-of-town girls because, besides for the dating inconvenience, it is very difficult for their friends to attend their wedding. If the boy is learning in Lakewood, and most of her friends are married and live in Lakewood, wouldn’t it be logical for the wedding to be in Lakewood? If the wedding were for the Chosson and Kallah, the answer is clear. However, since the wedding is for the parents, the solution is no longer and option, because then all THEIR people won’t be able to attend.

I don’t think anything I say will change the reality, just wanted to open your eyes, and jade your image of weddings…Hey, think of it this way, if you have more than one kid than you’ll have an opportunity to have “your day” more than once (a new incentive to have kids..)

Wimpy Wedding Woes

I went to a wedding tonight; there weren’t a lot of girls there. One girl told me she was sticking around longer than she planned on because there were so few people.

More girls means more popular.

More popular means more people like you.

People like you because you’re nice.

You are nice, and good and therefore worthy of getting married.

Ergo having a lot of girls at your wedding is a validation of the kallah to her mother-in law that she is worthy of her son.

Personally, I find the less girls, the more fun the wedding is. The kallah gets to actually focus and talk to her friends instead of making sure she dances with everyone, or everyone edging themselves out to be sure to dance with her. The dancing is more intense because it’s a more intimate crowd. The people who are there, are there because they want to be there, not out of obligation to an old high school chevra that is long extinct, or product of a small seminary.

I have two weddings in mind of two friends, one massive, the other tiny. Hate to be rude, but the small one was SOOOO much nicer, even if the massive one had better food, a better band, and better dressed people. The atmosphere was so different based on the amount of people there.

I know my wedding is going to be one of those massive ones, because my family on both sides is HUGE, but I do kinda wish I’d have a small one, where I can talk to my friends and close family without being exclusive…and without having people stick around because (whisper) “there are no girls…”

 

Spare Me Your Honesty

I decided I don’t like honest, blunt people. It’s rude impolite and serves no real purpose other than to let others know how nasty you really are.

I was talking to someone about my friend who was in play with me. The conversation went like this

Me: You should have seen X !It was hysterical, a modern Carol Burnet!

Other Person: Who’s Carol Burnet?

Me: Y’know, Miss Hannigan from Annie. She had this whole persona thing, very funny.

Other Person: Well I don’t think X is good. I never liked her.

Me: What? Why?

Other Person: She was always annoying. A little whiny.

Me: When was the last time you saw her?

Other Person: Dunno, five years

Me: Ye, she was 15.

Etc.

What was the purpose in her telling me she didn’t like her, or that she’s a bad actress? She hasn’t seen the person in years, yet she felt the need to interject her “true and honest” opinion of her!

Most of the time it is really better to just keep your comments to yourself. You know what you think, be secure in it. The entire world doesn’t need to hear and agree with you. You’re not that important that your opinions need to be heard, or are making any difference to the world at large.

If I solicit your opinion like,

“What do you think of X as an actress”

Or

“How do I look today?”

While it may not be worth it to be honest, you do have carte blanche to say what you want.

Yes, have your opinions, state your piece, be heard, but when you’re just being “honest”, SHUT UP.

Haughty Hits

Hi Everyone.

My vain self is hoping for 1000 hits by the end of  this month.

You can help by visiting and commenting!

Thanks to everyone who already visits and comments on a regular basis =)

“I Feel Good”

I just found out that there are three things in this world that are “Me’ein Olam Ha’abah”. We petty mortals can get a whiff of the world to come…how cool is that. So the three things are Shabbos, walking in the sunlight, and going to the bathroom. Chazal said this eons ago, and I would modernize it by including, taking off high heels.

Of the three, a person can only experience two of them at the same time. Unless you are walking in the sunlight on shabbos while relieving yourself, you are a weird, free- spirit, eewy hobo-type person, and you don’t count.

For the first two, the preparation for them is pretty painless. It’s instant gratification.

It’s not Shabos, then it is, the transition is easy.

You’re walking in the shade, and then there is direct sunlight.

Transitioning is painless, easy, calming…

With going to the bathroom, it’s the one that I understand and appreciate the most… but I hate waking up in the morning with that pre me’ein olam ha’abah feeling.

Celebrate Cell-phones

I’m back home from camp. YAY! More posts forthcoming…

Anyway, there was a panel Friday night discussing “communication”; this a euphemism for “cell-phones are evil”.

I have to stand up, go against the grain and say, go ahead and let cell phones infiltrate and destruct the world as we know it. I say this, because in simple economics terms; the benefits outweigh the costs.

Every second of the day, cell phones selflessly protect the fragile self-esteems of girls everywhere.

At every simcha, social gathering, street corner waiting, there are girls fiddling around with their cell-phones. They seem so busy, so focused on their task, so driven. No, they are not waiting for an urgent call, for a ride, an answer, a chat. They’re more likely to be deleting contacts, fooling around with the calculator, reading old texts, and if they’re daring, changing the language on their phone.

Why, you might ask?

Cell phones are a symbol of communication, of connectivity, access to people. People equal social success, popularity, and need. Therefore if you are busy with your cell phone you must be popular, needed, well-liked, and important…instead of having no one to talk to at your “modern” cousin’s vort. People perceive you differently. You are suddenly indispensable and cool.

It protects a person from feeling stupid, looking pathetic: desperate.

It also is a great defense mechanisms as it protects the mind from realizing how fragile the person really is.

So what if girls go around with artificially inflated ego based on “social success”? They aren’t crying in the bathroom, closet eating, whining, which is all the better for me and the world at large because an insecure girl is a force to be reckoned with.

Cell-phones: you are a G-d-send.

 

Fabulous Food Foolery

Concerning food, I don’t think anyone takes lessons to heart. Yes, we may learn lessons, but we don’t apply them. Come to anything else, If we mess up, we don’t do it again, or do it again, but smarter.

 

If I oversleep, and the rest of my day is spent hiding because I’m wearing two different shoes, and my hair is sticking out in mathematically impossible angles. I’ll be sure to never oversleep again. Or next time I oversleep, be smarter about it, like wearing a my Disney’s Mickey Mouse ears to cover my hair and distract people from my feet

 

If I insult my brother and he cries and tells my mother who gets annoyed at me, I’d learn to be a little more subtle and smarter in my insults. Use bigger words, give them in smaller increments so he doesn’t notice them that much, but I still get the satisfaction.

 

If I lend my sister my sweater and she stretches is out, I’ll learn to never lend her a sweater again…or to buy sweaters that she wouldn’t be caught dead in…or make her lose weight…or lend her sweater I don’t particularly like, and when she stretches it, make her keep it, while I rationalize buying a new wardrobe.

 

If I experiment with purple eye shadow, and my friends want to know what door I walked into; I will not be wearing purple anymore, or find more supportive friends

 

However, if I eat a combination of cupcakes, cheesecake, ice coffee, taco chips and salsa, Dougies, and Fresca, and spend the night clutching my stomach in agony; I WILL do it again

 

If I eat 3 franks, 2 doughnuts, Hawaiian fruit punch, twerps and saltines, and I enjoy the remainder of the evening by burping up frank and doughnut residue, I WILL do it again.

 

If I eat cereal and milk for breakfast, and then they bring out the pancakes topped with ice cream, I will eat a second breakfast, maybe even a third. I will annoy all my friends, telling them.

“Oh my gosh I ate so much. I feel so gross, Why didn’t you stop me….”

And I WILL do it again.

 

If refreshments is MASSIVE homemade oatmeal raisin cookies, I will eat six of them. I will dunk each bite into milk a la nursing home style. I will hoard a few more for later. I will complain how my stomach is starting to show, and that my mother would kill me if I gained weight in camp, but I WILL do it again.

 

If I drink three expressos at 11 o’clock at night, and wonder why I can’t fall asleep, and consequently eat Ike and Sam popcorn, Stella Dora Shtreimel cookies, trail mix, Raisin Bran, pretzel crisps, mustard, a banana, and cottage cheese to satisfy my boredom, and then make best friends with the toilet trying to throw it all up…I WILL do it again.

 

The simple explanation is that food is that good, and we are that weak.

 

Oh Well.

Calorie Cancellation Consolation

In the world of girls, it is understood that there are certain foods and circumstances that simply don’t count in the world of calories. I’ve compiled all that I know (Thank you B.) If you have any more to contribute, please do. You will do justice to your existence on this earth.

 

No Calorie Foods and Circumstances

 

·        Food eaten between the hours of three and four in the morning; on the grounds of the ambiguity of which day the calories belong to

 

·        Cake and kugel shavings eaten in the name “to even it out”. Doing a mitzvah like that constitutes no calories in return

 

·        Cookie dough has no calories; the calories come from the oven while it’s baked. This especially applies to frozen cookie dough, because the molecules are so stiff, they can’t count.

 

·        Crumbs don’t count, they are non-beings

 

·        When you “taste” supper to see if it’s ready, No calories, no matter how many times you taste.

 

·        Any food eaten with copious amounts of water is null and void, because the water flushes it through you. (osmosis, or something like it)

 

·        Anything eaten after exercise comes off through sweat.

 

·        If you eat a bar of chocolate in small increments, each small piece has no calories. Therefore, you can eat a whole bar and still be “good”. (or really anything eaten in small amounts)

 

·        Anything eaten after a fast has no calories. No explanation necessary.

 

·        Anything eaten by more people than the recommended serving per container has no calories, so start sharing!

 

·        Anything eaten on Pesach. You are so limited as it is, the mental anguish negates all calories. So eat all the chocolate and matzah and cream cheese you want!

 

·        Food consumed on a date has no calories. Period.

 

·        Eating food off your niece’s/nephew’s/little sister’s/brother’s/child/grandchild’s plate is a mitzvah; you are preventing baal tashchis. Just make sure the person is a blood relative and younger than you, or else it doesn’t work. Not only does it not work, it’s gross.

 

·        Of course Shabbos food has no calories…the calories wait until after Shabbos to be digested, then they start counting!

 

·        Brachos Parties are beautiful, not only are you saving the world from every possible calamity, but obviously the food doesn’t count…it’s a mitzvah! Hello!

 

·        Eating to soothe someone’s ego…your friend’s (hard) chocolate cookies, you’re grandmother’s (clumpy) vegetable soup… this only applies to girls, hence the chosson’s new pot.

 

 

 

By implementing a few, but choiceful changes in your life, you can eat all day and never reach the magical 1500.

 

 

 

 

 

Jumbo Ego

We had Baliboo day in camp.

 

Some staff members thought it would be fun if we organized a few games ourselves.

 

It was fun.

 

I participated in Jumbo. And I won. The rope was above my waist, and I’m extremely high-waisted and not short.

 

I’m still on a high.

 

I’m still reveling in the glory.

 

I am so proud of myself for winning.

 

Besides for the great adrenaline rush of jumping, making it, measuring up the competition, telling the little kids watching in awe to get out of the way, picking up your skirt way too high, running to get pants before the vaad hatznius chastises me, holding back a derisive laugh when someone falls spectacularly…I haven’t played sports in two years…and I’m still good.

 

How’s that for an ego boost.

 

It’s a part of me that I thought was over once I was no longer a camper. And HELLO, I’m still alive and kicking. 

 

I won. I won. I won. I won. I won. I won. I won. I won. I won. I won. I won. I won.

 

Who should I gloat to next?

Bulimic Sanctuary

Of all the million and a half disorders listed in the DSM IV, I always thought, Yay, at least I’m safe from one.

 

I thought I was immune to bulimia. Not because of my great self body image, self esteem, or other psychological factors. It’s very simple really, I have a TERRIBLE gag-reflex.

 

I can’t make myself throw up for the life of me, and trust me I’ve tried. Once I swallowed a taco chip, whole (great talent, I know). I bawled as it scratched its way down my esophagus. Fingers, toothbrushes, coughing, nothing brought it up. Five minutes later, I was fine, mentally and physically, secure in the knowledge that the taco chip made it to my stomach without killing me, and that I’d never be bulimic.

 

All this has changed since last night. No, the taco chip did not come up from the digested afterlife…I made myself throw up…all confidence, that there was one thing I could always hold out on was gone.

 

The fault lies in the nine days food in camp. It’s hunks of quasi melted cheese and starch. It didn’t settle in my stomach, but glued together my ribs. I whined to everyone, I attempted a nap, I whined a little more, but after an hour I had to face the facts, there was only one way to go…up (taken out of context this last sentence can almost sound like spiritual motivation)

 

I didn’t actually believe I could make it happen given past experience.

 

I kneeled pleadingly in front of the toilet and hugged the rim.

 

I tried coughing heavily. I got a headache.

 

I tried my fingers. I tickled my uvula.

 

I tried a toothbrush. Three times.

 

My neck lurched and extended and heaved and I…regurgitated.

 

Now, I’m charley hoarse in my neck as well as ¾ s of the rest of my body.

 

I’m also reevaluating my mental stability.

 

So far so good.