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All Good Things….

I started this blog a long time ago, lifetimes ago in internet years – 2008. A lot has changed in that time, me, you, the world.

I’ve let this blog linger the past couple of years, posting just once – twice a year. I didn’t want let it die, the thing that gave so much to me: an outlet for my thoughts, a place to develop my writing voice, a canvas to work on my craft, explore ideas, challenge my assumptions— and my writing has moved on to bigger and greener pastures thanks to this blog.

I’ve made wonderful friends though this here– Big shout out to Princess Lea. But like every other Jewish blog that started way back then – it’s time to say goodbye.

Blogs are not what they used to be. They’re all well-crafted with agendas and purpose. There isn’t much of the meandering chatter that used to populate the frum blogosphere.

So, with that, I bid you my final farewell, and thank you for sticking around till the end.


Posted by on January 18, 2017 in Uncategorized


Tznius These Days

“My husband wants to know, maybe you can explain it,” my friend asks. I’m talking to her motziah Shabbos she’s driving home from Shabbos Sheva braches, kids conked out in the back seat, her husband driving and baffled. “My cousin was there, her husband learned a few years in Israel, she went to a top seminary everything and you should have seen how she was dressed. I get the grey lines of tight clothes and long shaitels and knee-skimming skirts, but here she didn’t even try. My husband wants to know what she’s thinking.”

Me the groiyse mind reader, Na, I just have enough opinions and perspectives for five people
“Who said she’s thinking anything,” I started. “These days there such a lack of regard to the authority of halacha maybe she views it as nice but optional.”

Or maybe she’s feeling disenfranchised that her husband’s not learning anymore, so she’s not in the “yeshivish” world anymore.

Or, she’s not in school no one’s telling her what to do, so she’s just acting out like this. Because she’s not an idiot you know, she knows the Halacha, sure, she can recite it and many other lessons that were drilled into her head over the years.

“Na,” my friend counters. “It’s not scandalous for her husband to be in college, it’s ok for her crowd.”

“I dunno,” I muse. “These days no one is tznius and what used to be black is now grey. They always hocked in school about skirt lengths, but have you noticed no one covers their elbows anymore?”

“People in Lakewood still cover their elbows,” She answers.

“Well people on Facebook don’t.” I say, “and these are my ‘friends’.”

“And what about shaitels,” my friend continues.

“What about them?” I ask. I wear short shaitels, not for tznius reasons (although it does work out) but because my bone structure gets lost in long and my face looks fat, so I can discuss it pretty neutrally.

“We came to a consensus on Shabbos that past your bust is prust, past your shoulders to your bust is long and until your shoulders is totally fine.”

I laughed; it’s all so arbitrary.

“My sister n law was hocking about some woman she saw in the pizza store” my friend continued “ ‘her shaitel was till her waist it was disgusting!’ I ripped into her. When you got married, your shaitel was 11 inches, now it’s 16. Her’s was 16 when she got married, add five inches, that’s 21. You started off more yeshivish, but you’re at 16, she started off less so, it’s the same five additional inches, what’s the difference behind the thought? My sister in law was quiet.”

So was I.

“I can’t listen to this sister in law talk about tznius,” my friend started again. “Every day she wears the same long pleated mid-calf skirt. She doesn’t get it. She doesn’t understand women when they’re pregnant… When I’m pregnant I struggle with my knees, they’re the only part of me that’s skinny!”

And I’m thinking, does her cousin feel as misunderstood as my friend does by her sister-in-law?

My friend came back to her cousin. “Her skirt wasn’t near her knees with a slit, there’s no grey area, it’s a straight up nisht. What can make a girl just disregard everything she’s been taught.”

And then I remembered. There had been a tznius gathering for educators in my community. “Shaitels shouldn’t be more than 2 inches past the jawbone.” A co-teacher and I exchanged looks and laughed. We both complied with his ruling, but no one else did. I didn’t think much of it until the next day at school when a bunch of teachers were firing off.

“2 inches past, that’s way too short”

“I’m not cutting my shaitel”

“Who is he to make up such random line?”

Then one teacher articulated what everyone felt but couldn’t put words to.

“I’m not a person who doesn’t listen to daas Torah. If I’m told something, I do it. But I’m not cutting my shaitel, so I’m mad that he is turning me into someone who doesn’t listen to Rabbanim; it’s not even Halacha. ”

Four inches were told, hair not past a shirt’s yoke, colorful shoes need not apply. These aren’t Halacha, but it feels like that sometimes, and if we don’t listen long enough, we slowly become people who don’t listen to Rabbanim even when it is Halacha…

I don’t know what my friend’s cousin was thinking. I don’t know why she dresses the way she does, but I walk the streets and she’s not alone. The reason can’t be solitary. What I do know is that tznius is complex. It goes to the root of who we are as women and yidden, and in this modern world that seems to contradict each other even if it shouldn’t. I also, know we’re going about it all wrong. I don’t know right answer and what we should be doing, that many opinions I don’t have, I just know that this isn’t working.

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Posted by on November 22, 2015 in Jewish, Musings, Uncategorized


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Does the Public Have Any Rights Regarding Your Life

“Tell your husband to be nice to mine, he doesn’t know anyone.” I said lightly and gave her a big smile. She returned the smile, and let out a small laugh. I left the office and headed to the teacher’s room to make a coffee. The secretary followed in soon after,

“Did she say her husband was coming?” she looked at me intently. I shrugged a little bewildered.

“I just assumed so, she didn’t say otherwise.”

“Well, that would be interesting,” she said slowly drawing imaginary lines on the table with her fingers. I measured my coffee.

“Huh?” The secretary looked at me closely again,

“You didn’t hear anything?”

“Hear what?” I poured in ample sugar.

“According to rumors for a while,” she paused, not for effect, but with difficulty, “she’s divorced.”

“What?” was my dumb response and suddenly felt terribly foolish. Her wedding, little over a year ago, flashed across my mind. “Nobody tells me anything!”

I didn’t drink my coffee.

Come the Shabbaton, the teacher assumed (correctly) that I had been apprised of her circumstances and made veiled references to it at times. I just nodded and said nothing



But I wonder, should someone have said something? I didn’t have to make an insensitive comment to her, had I known. Or maybe she’s rather deal with the in-sensitiveness, than the invasion of privacy.

I know there are things I’ve experienced that I don’t care to share. And when someone mentions similar circumstance I act like I know nothing of the sort. It’s my life to own, my story to tell, or not.

But but, is there an achrayis and obligation not to put people in uncomfortable situations.

“We were due the same time, what’s your baby up to?


“When’s your daughter’s wedding, she looked so radiant at the vort?”


“Tell your husband to me nice to mine – he doesn’t know anyone”

Crickets                and a laugh.

There are some things that can be tucked away and denied forever, others not. And for the latter, should others subtley inform people when they are getting close enough, or is a life private and only the owner can disclose its contents?

I’m leaning heavily toward the latter, but I felt so awful about my comments, it’s lending some credence to the former. I can’t really make it all out. I think I’ll just blame it all on the secretary.


Posted by on June 25, 2014 in Uncategorized


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Purim 2014

You have seen the slow evolution. You probably predicted it. And it happened.

I went all out this year.

It came to me on Succos. My son was playing with cars and trucks outside when he wailed,

“I dropped my mordechaicyle!” turning the soft ‘c’ into a glutteral ‘ch’.

And it hit me, right then – a motorcycle gang – or Mordechai-cycle gang! Kids will be bikers, handing out beer and gum cigarettes. And throw in cupcakes for a carb.

So with a good idea, too many Google searches, and an awesome Graphic Artist sister-in –law, my shalach manos was well….you tell me. (Actually the final pics aren’t so good because the cellophane was too glare-ee, so I broke it down to parts)





I think I’ve peaked though. It’s all downhill from here.


Posted by on March 18, 2014 in Uncategorized


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Spine Tingling Post Following, no ironic twist included


Or maybe I’ll be dan l’caf zechus that they put the blurb in front instead of the back…

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Posted by on February 1, 2014 in Uncategorized


My Need To Write

I want to write something and people will cry.

They will cry at my sorrow.

Marvel at my strength and depth.

I want to write something and people will laugh.

They will laugh from my wit, wish they could be me, or at the very least, hang out,

So they can hear some more.

I want to write something and people will change.

They’ll be inspired by my insight and perspective.

 The world will be a better place, and when pressed why,

 people will point at me as the source.

I want to write something smart, and people will nod.

They will quote me.

 People will refer to my knowledge and authority.

I want to write something and people will smile.

They will pass it along to their friend,

 because the sun will be shining brighter, the moon deeper, and laugh lighter.

I want to write something and people will point.

They’ll say they knew me when.

Want to know me now.

 And maybe then,

 I’ll feel accepted.


Posted by on June 27, 2013 in Uncategorized


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State of the Union

WordPress sent me my end of year and I’m not posting it. I’m embarrassed of my stats, not that I blame them really. I don’t post often enough, and I totally ignore the first room of cultivating readers – responding to their comments – I’m just not good at it, I feel like I have nothing smart to say. And then I don’t market my blog by commenting on other blogs – same comment on comments – I don’t have anything intelligent to add.

I also feel like the Jewish Blogosphere has changed so much since I started blogging, or maybe it’s the same and I changed. In any case, it used to be this really cozy place where everyone commented on everyone’s posts, exchanged meme’s, linked to each other, had conversations that started in the comments and sometimes went off to e-mails. I feel like I knew those bloggers. But they’re all gone. I can’t remember the last time my Google Reader bolded their title alerting me to a new post.

Child Ish
Frum Punk
Jacob da Jew
Mike in Midwood
The Babysitter
Bas Melech
NMF #7

Material Maidel

The Frum Skeptic


and a bunch of others…


The only one’s still around are BadforShidduchim, and Princess Lea who went from the best commenter ever to the best blogger ever. (Had to give that shout out, she really is awesome, no?)

So my stats dwindled as did my posts, energy, and commitment.

My life changed, and I haven’t yet figured out how to write about some things without trespassing on other people’s privacy (namely my family). That severely limits my material.

And I’m busier, and a blog while fun, and a wonderful outlet for expression, is not a priority.

So many times I’ve wanted to just close it down – while I still have some grace and dignity, and readers. But I like my blog, and it’s just as much for me as it is for you. So I think it’ll stick around another year, as I hope will you.
Here’s to a new year (well, not really new, just Gregorian new) and more sporadic intelligence – if there ever was any.



Posted by on January 1, 2013 in Uncategorized


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