Tag Archives: Personality

The Slow Transition


I’ve been lying to myself for years. Yesterday though, it knocked on my door so nicely, and I couldn’t deny it. I’ve come to accept who I am as a person, it’s hard, it’s always hard acknowledging something you’ve tried to hide and deny. The time has come, and I hope I’ll be better for it.

“I booked you tickets to Florida for Shabbos,” my husband called to me from the couch. There was light intensity in his pitch, and I knew he wasn’t kidding.

“You what?” I asked like I honestly hadn’t heard what he said.

“You need a vacation, you’re dying to go – I booked tickets?”

“Tickets?” I stressed the “s”.

“Ye, I spoke to Roo today, you’re going with her.”

“But, but, what about you and E, and where we gonna stay, what are we gonna eat, I have to teach…” I started protesting, even though I AM dying to go to Florida. And I ruined it, the whole happiness, surprise and spontaneity. That’s it, I am not a spontaneous person as I had led myself to belive. I like to plan and consider. I like to know my options, know I’m doing what’s best and right for me. I don’t jump into things. I’d rather miss it, lost in consideration, than make a hasty decision.

I always thought I was spontaneous, or I always wanted to be light and free – but I’m not, I’m serious, intense and I think too much. Yes, I would walk to my friends on Shabbos with out calling ahead. But I think that’s where it ends

I cant just get up one day and buy my husband a present. I can get up one day and think I’d like to do that, but it’ll take me a while, to find the right one, the right deal, will he really like. Nike is not for me, I NEVER just do it. I never wanted to be that person, they seem so stuffy and rigid, but I really get thrown for a loop when my schedule changes without ample notice. I try to roll with the punches, but it’s a real effort on my part.

My day is always scheduled and planned in my head, what I plan on doing when, how much time I allot to do certain things, and when emergencies come up – not my emergencies, somehow I handle those, but if someone needs an immediate favor from me, it’s very difficult for me to rearrange things in my head, to realign my expectations of what I planned on doing. Going to Florida is wonderful – not on such short notice it just stresses me out!

I remember yelling at my mother when we would run errands, we’d have a list of things to do and then towards the end she’d remember one more stop she wanted to make. I’d get really agitated. In my head I was ready to go home, I was home already doing everything I planned in my head, and the extra 10 minutes, or even two would upset me.

“You’re messing with my head!” I’d tell my mother. She didn’t really get it, because she quite the opposite of me, drop everything, and do something better that comes along.

I equated spontaneity with happiness, and youth. A careless abandon, and truly living life. That’s how it is in books anyway. And the inflexible scheduled people were stuffy bores with no lives, and ruined everything. No wonder I wanted to be spontaneous.

And when I talk about how I feel, it sounds so much worse and severe and stifling than I feel my life is. I love my life, and I think it’s time to graduate from my dreams and recognize that there are worse things in life than slow to transition.


Posted by on July 6, 2014 in The Sporadic Side


Tags: , , , , , ,

The Neurotic Individual

“I don’t know where he gets it from,” She said half laughing. “It’s not me, and it’s definitely not my husband.” We were talking in the teacher’s room about our children, and where they pick up their fashion sense. “My son shakes in front of the mirror watching the creases in his pants and how they sway. If they move too much, get thee to the cleaners!”

We laughed, and laughed again when the next teacher told of her 18-month-old, with no hair to speak of gazing adoringly in the mirror smoothing out her “tresses” with a brush. But the swaying pants, it struck me, and reminded me of someone else – my little brother in law.

At 19, he’s super put together, and polished. I always wondered what it was that made his lines so crisp; it couldn’t just be his Brooks Brother’s collar-stays, because my husband has those too. Then one Shabbos meal, while waiting for my husband to finish washing and return to the table, I observed my brother in law, in those few idle moments, what did he do (I’m a people  watcher, sorry).His shirt cuffs were preoccupying him. He tugged at them a little, one edge of the cuff, was a millimeter off, not completely aligned with the opposite side. He adjusted it, then readjusted his cufflinks, which had moved a “ma – she –hu” in the tweaking. It took seconds, but I knew in that moment that I would never be it. I would never be super polished, and sophisticated, with my sheitel perfectly coiffed.

And then there’s my sister-in-law, who of course I love dearly, that really solidified my despair of ever being the enviable “How does she do it” Superwoman. A little before her wedding, she gave me a tour of her soon to be inhabited apartment. It was brand new, and really pretty, even without her little touches. I really liked her kitchen; there was a lot counter space, and two sinks, none of which my own apartment possesses. I absentmindedly reached to turn the water on.

“Don’t” she said quickly.

“What? Why?” I asked, “Worried about waterbills already?” She laughed,

“No, it’s just that I dried the sink before you came and I don’t want to do it again.”

My eyes squinted.

“Dried the sink?” I wasn’t familiar with the concept, wiping yes, drying, no. And I’d been running my own kitchen for a very long time by then: six months.

“Ye, I don’t like water droplet in the sink, so I dry it.”

And I knew then that my kitchen could never look like hers.

Yes, I can dry my sinks too with an extra strength Bounty paper towel if I choose to (and I do on occasion, it makes such a difference, it’s crazy). And if I were a man, I can sway in front of the mirror, and realign my cufflinks. But it’s all expo facto. I saw them do it, saw the results, and I’m just imitating. I’d have never thought of it on my own. And the thing is—they  didn’t think of it either; it came naturally. These small idiosyncrasies, they weren’t planned, developed and executed. They evolved out of the person’s need: a need for presentation, for cleanliness, for structure and symmetry. There’s a kind of neuroticism they possess for the areas they excel in, an attention to detail that the average person would never even think to address.

And I’m not that. Or maybe I am I realized after I received quite a few phone calls that sounded like this:

“Esther, I’m looking to buy a buy a double stroller; I know you just bought one, tell me all the makes, models, reviews, features and which one I should buy.:


“Esther, I’m looking to buy a drill.”

“Drill? I’m not Bob the Builder, I don’t know Adam about drills.”

“Ye, but hypothetically, it you were buying a drill, which one would you buy.”

“Hmmmm…Challenge accepted. Call me tomorrow.”

People call me up to help them research products and decide which one to purchase. I’m not trying hard when I read all reviews, comparisons, the maintenance, the warranties, understand the components, the everything. I just do it. I enjoy it. I don’t know any other way. Nor do I particularly want to.

So is that what other people experience when we gaze at them in astonishment and thinly veiled green eyes, just the wonder of them being themselves?



Posted by on June 13, 2013 in Slice of Life


Tags: , , ,

My Animal Instinct

Today’s post is brought to by Plinky. I answered today’s question, of which animal I’d choose to be:

If I had to choose which animal to be, I think I’d go with the American Bald Eagle.

They are lookers.

They are strong

They are powerful.

They are respected.

They are talented.

They are smart.

They are also an endangered species, so anyone who messes with them is instantly considered a jerk.


Posted by on December 30, 2012 in Musings, The Sporadic Side


Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Hosting A Question

Yes, this is my guest bedroom. Yes, I am kidding.

It is the human condition where people believe their beliefs, perspectives, and attitudes to be among the average consensus. Meaning, most people will agree with what we say and do, or at least understand it.

Obviously this is a very flawed logic and condition as evidenced by the amount of frivolous strife a person encounters each day. Arguments over who’s turn it is to take the garbage out, that the driver ahead of you should have made the light, that your mother in law should keep her comments to herself – none of these would have happened if all people were synced. We’re not, yet we still hold ourselves to be normal.

So, I pose a question. We’re all individuals, yet societies norm and averages make up consensus of what is acceptable or not, what falls under the umbrella of the bell curve, and what is beyond standard deviation; I speak on the topic of hostesses, and guests.

I love to play hostess, and rarely have an opportunity to be on the other side, but when I am, this is my modus-operandus – blend in. I don’t like to have my presence shouted from the rafters. I try to be as unobtrusive as possible, leave thing undisturbed, and if I do disturb them, to put them back so no one need know that I was here. Some people may perceive this of not liking my hostess, or being intimidated by them. I think it’s a sign of respect. I’m in their home, I play by their rules. Mostly this sort of thing comes up in the bathroom and kitchen, where most guests need to take of their needs, big or small.

Every home has some sort of system as to where every item belongs, and even if there is no system, but a haphazard dump, the things are generally dumped in the same vicinity time and again. The mugs in one cabinet, the towels slung over the oven door handle, the shower curtain drawn shut, the shampoo up in the caddy etc. and guests interact with these items, and use them as they see fit – which is wonderful. What arises next is, what does the guest do with the item once finished with it. Does he place it where he found it, following the order of the home he’s visiting, or does he put it where he finds most convenient – usually in line with the system he has running in his own home?

I’ve already stated that I do the former. All my guests are among the latter. Naturally I think I’m of the standard opinion. Statistics seems to indicate my minority status. But I’m not sure that it makes sense that ALL my guests follow their own system, my view is not that radical that no one else I know subscribes to it. I must therefore draw the conclusion that I am such a wonderful hostess that my guest forget they’re guest, think they’re home, and act accordingly.

So the question, what do you do when you’re a guest in someone else’s home. Will you make me a part of the masses, or further isolate me in my marginal status.

(I realize this post may seem like a chastisement of my guests. It’s not, it’s just a commentary on different perspectives. If a bathmat out of place has me banning guests, I probably have bigger issues.)


Posted by on September 2, 2012 in Humor, The Sporadic Side


Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

Take it From Me

Kach es Sheli, from Avrhom Fried’s new album has got me thinking, and once again recognizing the pathos of my mindset.

He sings,

“Rebono Shel Olma, Ani Yodeiah, ShBais Hamikdahs Hashlishi aino bunoi mei avanim, hu vunoi me demaos, v’im cul ma shatah tzaruch rok dmaah achas, kach es sheli”

Creator of this world, I know that the third Bais Hamekdsh is not being built from stones, but from tears. And if all that you need is one more tear, take it from me.

When I listen to it, I feel inspired, like I can do this, we are close, redemption is near, and I can be a part of it.
But then I look around at my life. I sit and complain all day, about the smallest the thing. The driver that doesn’t know to ease into the intersection when making a left turn, the secretary that misplaced my papers – again. When it takes me more than thirty seconds to decide what to make for supper, when my kid gives me a run for my money when I try to change his diaper.

Kach Es Sheli?

Who am I kidding. I can barely handle day to day stresses gracefully, appreciatively, what nerve do I have asking Hashem to make me cry for my benefit. I’m not even appreciating the tears he gives me on a regular basis, am I an idiot? A glutton for punishment, asking for more?

It’s a beautiful song, but if I’m very honest with myself – that Kach Es Sheli – let him take Avrhom Fried because, well, I’m a baby who cries from everything, but I’m not an idiot who attempts a muscle to look strong and says “punch me” hoping the other person won’t take me seriously.


Posted by on May 22, 2012 in Musings


Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Instead of the Concession Phone Call

A long time ago, I became friends with Jennifer. You know Jennifer, she leaves nice comments on this blog, and makes me feel like someone is actually listening to my drivel.

It’s a funny story how we became friends. Well, not really funny, ha ha, but more like, unlikely. She wasn’t my type, I wasn’t hers (still is that way). Aside for “types” we really have a lot in common, reading, writing, drawing, Harry Potter and a wicked sense of humor (well, mines not that awesome, her’s is).

She was G.O., main part in play, nah, I shouldn’t tell you that about her, you’ll get the wrong picture, thinking she was this uber-glamorous, popular charmer who we all secretly hated. No, Jennifer, was – no still is, one of the nicest, kindest people I know. Can never say no to anyone. Really generous, sweet, smart, eager, and all those kind of qualities, the REAL nice girl qualities, she also happens to be super-talented, but it’s so by the way with her, that we were able to forgive her her awesomeness.

Anyway, in 9th and 10th grade, while I frittered away class time, sleeping, making extraneous bathroom trips, and being an overall failure, Jennifer diligently took notes, answered questions, and was of course a model student. Except when she wasn’t – which was when she was writing stories with me. We’d write a paragraph or two, and pass ‘em back and forth, waiting to see what twist the other one threw, stretching the imagination. A lot of them were Harry Potter fan-fics, and we once wrote a story that was a lot like Mean Girls, but Mean Girls hadn’t come out yet – it did later, and I felt cheated of intellectual property, but never mind that. We wrote a lot stuff; it was fun, we each have some of it stashed somewhere in our parents’ houses. And we made a bet, with no real stakes, just a mental competition, of who would publish a book first.

Well, this past Thursday, Jennifer won. “Not My Kind, I Don’t Mind” published by IsraelBookshop, available online and in Judaica stores is written and sorta illustrated by Jennifer (she made all the clay figures, and then a graphic artist placed them nicely on the page).

“Not My Kind, I Don’t Mind”, is a really cute story about acceptance and love, with a nice moral at the end, a moral that I learned in 9th grade when I became friends with Jennifer. Maybe if the book had been around when I was growing up, I’d have made friends with Jennifer a little earlier instead of moping around with an attitude problem.

Check out the book, and even better, buy and enjoy it!

It being a success will keep my ego in check😉


Posted by on April 30, 2012 in Slice of Life, Writing


Tags: , , , , , , , , , , ,

I’m a Woman (hear me roar)

English: A Lenovo X61 tablet laptop shown in t...

Image via Wikipedia

“Hi, Lenovo customer service Tina speaking, how can I help you?”

“I bought a computer from you less than three months ago, it’s non-functioning now. I don’t want it fixed, I want a new one! It shouldn’t start falling apart so soon.” (Harumph!)

“Oookaay, well I need a tag number first to process a replacement. You can get one from tech support, would you like me to transfer you?

“K.” (Grumble)

Fifteen minutes of elevator music on repeat – it was the same 30- second preview over and over again I swear.

“Hi this is Dan with Lenovo tech support, how can I help you.”

“I need help, I just bought my computer less than 3 months ago, and I’m having such issues.” (Pitiful)

“Ok, here’s what we’re gonna do…

20 minutes later hang up with no new computer, and a need to back up my files for further repair.

What the heck? I wanted a new computer! I told that to the woman. All of a sudden a guy tech comes on, I lose my resolve and turn into a damsel in distress?! I’m an embarrassment to my sex.

Please tell me I’m not the only one.


Posted by on February 13, 2012 in Humor, Slice of Life


Tags: , , , , , ,


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 251 other followers

%d bloggers like this: