tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45718406285452381962024-02-08T11:50:48.593-05:00Trying to find the oneness of it allcornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.comBlogger262125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-64743275461603061152012-08-14T19:00:00.000-04:002012-08-14T18:57:39.956-04:008/14/12Dear Self,
<br>Remember everything.
<br>Remember everything like each day is your last
<br>Or first
<br>Remember places
<br>Etch the images of venues from your past in your brain
<br>They may not be here when you come back
<br>To this city that is forever changing
<br>It will never be the same
<br>And neither will you
<br>But for now all you can do is remember
<br>For the next 2 weeks, as long as you're here
<br>Remember
<br>It's the only way to be in the moment
<br>It's the only way to conquer denial
<br>Remember
<br>Because you don't actually want to leave
<br>Write as many poems for Brooklyn until your fingers bleed verse
<br>Or until you feel release
<br>Sweet, sweet release
<br>And then comes peace
<br>And the ease will creep in
<br>
<br>But before that, buy every cliched Brooklyn poster
<br>Every rap name diagram
<br>Every t-shirt you see that says I <3 NY
<br>Every mug that will bring comfort on hot middle eastern mornings
<br>Or in the winter season
<br>When you are safe from snow storms
<br>Just remember to pack your wellies
<br>Kiss plows goodbye
<br>Write a sonnet for the F train
<br>A haiku for Gowanus
<br>Spill a drink for my bicycle
<br>I never thought love like this was possible
<br>
<br>I'm making myself feel feelings
<br>I stay sober most of the time
<br>Call it preparation for longing
<br>It will come when most and least expected
<br>On the plane I'll sob
<br>I'll want to turn back
<br>But turning back would be like living life in reverse
<br>And I want to move forward again
<br>
<br>Thirty can feel like the end of life
<br>But for now I see it as rebirth
<br>This decade is the one that screams change
<br>What better place to turn to than the city that makes me feel alive
<br>Sometimes
<br>Not last time
<br>I don't mind
<br>Tel Aviv, we'll drink like old lovers
<br>Stumble home together after last call
<br>The taste of whiskey and cigarettes on our breath
<br>We'll toast to old times
<br>And cheers to new beginningscornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-13351771101839372932012-08-08T14:09:00.000-04:002012-08-08T14:07:21.069-04:00RealizationDealing with the Israeli government is like a child doing what his parents say and then being punished for it.cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-79073567928215136992012-08-07T23:05:00.000-04:002012-08-07T23:02:46.141-04:00BrokenThere are some people whose Zionism is stronger than my will. They will persevere even when doors are slammed in their faces.
<br>
<br>Today I was told I have nothing. I took on the Israeli persona because that was the only way to get through to him. It took this "shaliach" over a month to tell me definitively what I'd been fearfully expecting. After I spoke sternly, demanded details, called him out on not doing his job, I felt...exhausted. Like I had sobbed for an hour. That release only mournful tears can bring.
<br>
<br>Today I feel broken. Tomorrow I will put the pieces together. I am not the first to suffer this struggle and I will not be the last. If I have nothing, then I don't need to prove myself anymore. Israeli or not, I just am.cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-20812121578175687172012-08-01T21:46:00.000-04:002012-08-01T22:02:42.276-04:00Israel, you make it so hard to love youI haven't even moved yet. Haven't packed up my stuff, gotten on a plane, and settled in a new home before fighting with your people. Which if I remember correctly I've been told since my Birthright trip are my people. I haven't even gone to a supermarket so why am I fighting with your people?!
<br>
<br>It seems that because my father's Israeli I have more to prove. You wanted me when I didn't want you and now that I do you're making me crawl back. My ID is good enough to claim me as your own, but now when I want what I'm told is rightfully mine I can't have it. Why were my friends allowed to work in your offices without promising you their children?
<br>
<br>I had 5 months of benefits, but you'll tell me I lived in your home for over a year. Your home. Which I've been told is my home. But I have to prove it. Do you want me to take you to my great-grandparents' home? Show you where my grandmother was raised? Where my father used to ride his bike, pick bamboo by the Yarkon to make kites?
<br>
<br>Maybe I am being whiney about this. But maybe I'm also being told two different stories from each person I talk to. Talk to this agency. No that one. No the global one. No the local one. You need all your documents in person. We don't have them online. Apply to this agency and tell them the truth. Why did you tell them the truth? Didn't you know they'd reject you? Tell me your story again? Are both your parents Israeli? You made aliyah and left after 5 months? Oh no, you used up 12 months of benefits. Don't worry, you'll get a free flight. Who told you you'd get a free flight? You might not even get anything. You're a citizen. Just come and go as you please. Prove that you lived in New York. We want you. We don't care. Are you doing this aliyah thing?
<br>
<br>I just want to get on a plane and come home. My entire adulthood I've been told that Israel is my home and the Jewish people are my family. Why are you casting me aside like a forgotten daughter?cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-61617807760185107212012-08-01T21:41:00.000-04:002012-08-01T21:43:28.251-04:00Israel, you make it so hard to love youI haven't even moved yet. Haven't packed up my stuff, gotten on a plane, and settled in a new home before fighting with your people. Which if I remember correctly I've been told since my Birthright trip are my people. I haven't even gone to a supermarket so why am I fighting with your people?!
<br>
<br>It seems that because my father's Israeli I have more to prove. You wanted me when I didn't want you and now that I do you're making me crawl back. My ID is good enough to claim me as your own, but now when I want what I'm told is rightfully mine I can't have it. Why were my friends allowed to work in your offices without promising you their children?
<br>
<br>I had 5 months of benefits, but you'll tell me I lived in your home for over a year. Your home. Which I've been told is my home. But I have to prove it. Do you want me to take you to my great-grandparents' home? Show you where my grandmother was raised? Where my father used to ride his bike, pick bamboo by the Yarkon to make kites?
<br>
<br>Maybe I am being whiney about this. But maybe I'm also being told two different stories from each person I talk to. Talk to this agency. No that one. No the global one. No the local one. You need all your documents in person. We don't have them online. Apply to this agency and tell them the truth. Why did you tell them the truth? Didn't you know they'd reject you? Tell me your story again? Are both your parents Israeli? You made aliyah and left after 5 months? Oh no, you used up 12 months of benefits. Don't worry, you'll get a free flight. Who told you you'd get a free flight? You might not even get anything. You're a citizen. Just come and go as you please. Prove that you lived in New York. We want you. We don't care. Are you doing this aliyah thing?
<br>
<br>I just want to get on a plane and come home. My entire adulthood I've been told that Israel is my home and the Jewish people are my family. Why are you casting me aside like a forgotten daughter?cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-13364078563067745442012-07-18T02:34:00.000-04:002012-07-18T02:32:49.395-04:007/18/12Dear Brooklyn,
<br>I'll miss you
<br>Dear F train,
<br>You'll always be my favorite
<br>Dear Gowanus,
<br>I love you. Don't ever let them tell you you're too dirty
<br>Dear 3rd avenue,
<br>You're my best on nighttime bike rides
<br>Dear Williamsburg,
<br>I never gave you a real chance
<br>For that I'm sorry
<br>Maybe we'll meet in your next incarnation
<br>Dear New York,
<br>I love you and you're not bringing me down
<br>Dear poets with babies,
<br>Thank you for showing me that life needs to move on
<br>Dear Bowery Poetry Club,
<br>Thank you for shaping an adolescent me
<br>Dear Tel Aviv,
<br>If we meet in the way we should, you have a lot to live up to
<br>While you'll never be in another's shadows, I hope our love can grow againcornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-18240474209000669072012-07-15T00:26:00.000-04:002012-07-15T00:24:30.555-04:00My county is sickIt's not feeling well
<br>Hasn't been for a while
<br>
<br>Every time I speak to an Israeli I feel like my guard has to be up
<br>This constant fight is exhausting
<br>It's like they want me to hate living there before I've arrived
<br>
<br>Today a man burned himself alive
<br>In protest of a government that failed him
<br>He didn't use enough gasoline
<br>He'll probably survive
<br>And then what kind of life will he live?
<br>Unemployed, suffered a stroke, and now third degree burns
<br>He already moved to Haifa to avoid the expense of the city
<br>Where else will he go?
<br>
<br>Did we fail him?
<br>Is this the new trend in government protest for social change?cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-46878742581285686562012-05-31T20:54:00.001-04:002012-05-31T20:54:16.917-04:005/31/12I don't understand what's wrong with the NYC subway system tonight.
<br>Why on the same train I heard a man sing in Russian in a booming baritone voice accompanied by a CD of music played on an electric keyboard
<br>I think the only people who donated were Russian
<br>After I and my throbbing headache fled through the open subway doors
<br>I caught a glimpse and listen to a guy on an electric guitar singing a song
<br>When did the train first become a place to display your art?
<br>And when did people stop caring if there was an audience who wanted to receive it?
<br>Now I know half of my complaining is due to the discomfort between my ears,
<br>But I wouldn't go reciting this poem on the R train when people still haven't finished their long commute homecornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-75744348940369114952012-04-25T15:58:00.001-04:002012-04-25T15:58:22.129-04:004/25/12Today in Israel
<br>There's a memorial ceremony in every city
<br>Too many of our boys lost forever
<br>We attempt to remember each and every one
<br>Call them by name
<br>Their faces - too many - flash across screens from Rabin Square to our living room TVs
<br>Each one somehow looks like he could be family
<br>Like she could've had a bright future
<br>Like they didn't deserve their fate
<br>
<br>Today in Israel a woman collapses in a stranger's arms
<br>Her son was killed 10 years ago
<br>But it stings like it happened yesterday
<br>And she is again overcome by grief
<br>
<br>Today in Israel
<br>Politicians thank soldiers for their service
<br>It is their selflessness that keeps this country safe
<br>They are our future
<br>
<br>Today in Israel
<br>A new immigrant stands in silence during the siren's sound
<br>She reflects in wonder
<br>Feels like her aliyah is manifest destiny
<br>Vows to hug a soldier every day
<br>To never take this country for granted
<br>
<br>Today in New York
<br>I'm singing Chanukah songs in my head
<br>I guess I'm feeling like today is pretty miraculouscornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-70436305329214892432011-04-28T23:38:00.002-04:002011-04-28T23:46:50.945-04:00<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I know I've been quiet for a while, but maybe it's because there's just too much to say. My mind has just been one big question mark for months and every iteration of myself feels like the same. Like any number of versions of me. Was 2004 self any different than current self? Other than 7 years difference, I'm not so sure. When I was 22 possibilities were endless. Light. Room for casualty. Seven years later there is a heaviness to everything. There is weight in every decision I make.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">I've realized that lately the person who makes me happiest is also the one who triggers me to reach terrible sadness. What makes it worse is that he doesn't know, and I don't put any blame on him. No, I choose to blame those around me whose unsolicited 2 cents I allow to get inside my head and in turn affect this relationship. I also blame myself for not being more direct.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">When we're in the same bed, sleep comes easy for him. The roles reverse and I am the one who stays up at night contemplating my life's uncertainties. Going over mental checklists of my friends, placing them in their rightful categories: engaged, married, expecting. I do not fit in any category. I could stay like this in limbo forever. And that is the sadness, dear friends.</span></span>cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-69284678222850313952011-01-19T22:31:00.000-05:002011-01-19T22:24:02.415-05:00I don't want to live a life of gashmiutcornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-24712651483108945932011-01-16T11:38:00.000-05:002011-01-16T11:31:17.207-05:00Goals for 2011Lose at least 5lbs (already lost 1)<br>Florida camping<br>A month in Israel this summer with my girls<br>Italy for xmas (davka) and Paris NYE<br>Make more $$$ dolla dolla bills, yocornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-58135303062603172762011-01-04T13:55:00.000-05:002011-01-04T13:48:41.132-05:00So far, gym 3 days, lots of salad, lots of water, protein, minimal carbs and minimal dairy. How long before this becomes just another forgotten New Year's resolution? Only time will tell.cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-5785231977141903532010-12-21T20:40:00.000-05:002010-12-21T20:33:44.082-05:00It's come to my attention that I feel very far awayFour and a half years ago I got on plane to the Holy Land that is Tel Aviv. Well, Ra'anana to be honest and less than a week later I was in a 5-month sublet on King David Street living a life I could never have dreamed. And I met so many beautiful people who touched my life to its core. Four years ago on December 18th (my mom's birthday), for better or for worse, but mainly for necessity, I received my Teudat Zehut. And for those seven months prior and many months to follow, I loved, longed, lusted after, laughed, cried, danced, and drank too many bottles of wine. I don't regret a single thing, except for leaving. Or not leaving, but having not come back. <p>I think I tend to get so nostalgic for Israel in winter. It's easy to do so then, because I'm cursing New York's cold and questioning why the hell I am passing up Palm Trees and heat waves for snow. It's also because when it's cold here, I know I have so long to wait till summer comes and I choose to leave the best time to be in New York so I can have a Tel Aviv summer like it was in 2006 and the end of 2007. <p>It's been four and a half years - can you imagine? I've come to terms with the decisions I've made that have led me to Brooklyn with a boy I love, but nothing can compare to 2006/2007 of my mind. That was the only time in my life when I had a group of sisters who would call me out on my bullshit. Would tell me to stop pretending I didn't miss NY, chide me for treating my time in Israel like some "study abroad program", support me and my poetry needs, and simply love me for me. And sometimes it hits me just how lucky I was and how I feel so far away. I miss you all. I miss every second of it. I wish I could just go back in time to grab a group hug and carry on like it'll all be okay because it has to. <p>So, let's use technology to our advantage. Here I am on the cursed G train with vegan thai take-out and a lemonade mixer on my way to see a man in Williamsburg for a hug and to work a freelance life till the wee hours of the night. His hugs don't feel like sisterhood, but they certainly feel like home. And I'll make due until it's summer again, and you'll find me dancing. You'll know where I am because I'll be with you. xxcornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-2963063869378877122010-11-21T17:38:00.000-05:002010-11-21T17:32:53.562-05:00CardioFor 1 hour 4-5 times a week. Because it's necessary. And bc I might make myself single soon.cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-67800525213578131832010-11-17T23:40:00.000-05:002010-11-17T23:34:56.850-05:00Oh friendsI regret to tell you that religion always gets in the way. That our young heroine will tell you stories over drinks about the time when love came easy and she could have had it all. The rock on the finger. The big beautiful Manhattan sky rise. The 2.5 children while under the age of 30. But, dear friends, this young lass never makes the easy choices or the "right" decisions. Our leading lady left her prince years ago. She gave up the life in the palace for a desert that blooms. For the night that only ends when the sun comes up.
<br>
<br>No decisions will be made, but those in my mind. But I will tell you, while I don't make the easy, smart decisions, I long for the dream day where my groom is danced to meet me for the first time after a week. The emotional moment where we see each other for the first time. And I'm not sure I'll have that in this current situation. Yes, I am in love. Yes, I haven't felt this way in quite some time. But ultimately I know who I am. I know what I want. This relationship won't yield the optimal results. So there you have it. What I think 2 drinks in. And now 3. On to the 4th possibly. Good night my loves.cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-50237100658193058932010-11-04T11:54:00.000-04:002010-11-04T11:49:19.215-04:00Food journal2 handfuls Kashi cereal<br>Water<br>Coffee (1 sm. sugar, milk)<br>Banana<br>2 chocolate kisses<p>Lunch<br>Salad w mozz cheese, avocado, string beans, the usual, tuna and home made honey balsamic dressing<br>Coffee<br>Watercornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-37003165990239143132010-11-03T15:36:00.003-04:002010-11-03T15:40:13.612-04:00Finding InspirationChannahboo has inspired me to think about my own health, weight, and appearance. Today starts project Lose That Belly, and boyfriend and I are going to do what we can to tighten up and lose some inches. While I planned to go to the gym today, I lack the discipline and that did not happen. If I try to go now and get in a quick workout, I will for sure be late in meeting a friend for drinks and will subsequently be late for dinner plans later. However, what I can do today is make sure the drink I consume does not have too many calories, and the dinner I eat later will be healthy. So my diet I hope will keep up with that of Channahboo's.<br /><br />Not to say that this blog will now serve as a food journal, just that sometimes you need to put something out publicly with the goal of sticking to it. So please encourage me here or other places to remind myself that a 28 year old can still aim for a 20 year old's body. Tomorrow my calendar reminder is set for 8:30am at the gym. I'm in need of some morning cardio.cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-24138378889659869342010-10-24T12:09:00.000-04:002010-10-24T12:04:16.856-04:00Where does one post things anymore?With blogs, secret blogs, public ones, twitter, where am I supposed to note the sh*t I want to say like, I've been on the west coast for so f'n long that if I don't see my bf soon I am going to throw myself into traffic!!!<p>I am very grateful for tonight's flight back to NY. This cannot happen any sooner. I can't wait until Monday. Time for a cold shower. Thanks for listening.cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-57766400294661257452010-09-06T17:36:00.000-04:002010-09-06T17:32:09.969-04:009/6/103 little stops and you once thought the weight of the world was held in those moments<br>Thought love lurked around the corner<br>Thought promise was held in his hands<br>But they were held in yours all along<br>And there are men who will love the smile in your eyes<br>The fire in your heart<br>The fear of G-d in your soul<br>Love will consume you when you're ready<br>When you've deciphered the difference between infatuation and till death do us part<br>There will be time for passion, but only after there has been soul searching<br>Strengthen your connection with the All Mighty<br>For He will always be there in times of need<br>Walk with G-d when those around you won't <br>Remember body and brain are Holy<br>For they elevate the typewriter toocornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-4293918141549539002010-09-03T02:26:00.001-04:002010-09-03T09:38:28.290-04:00Hey girl keep your head up because if there's a G-d who loves you there's a man who will too. He'll carry fire in his belly and love in his heart, and the only tears you'll cry from him will be of joy when he gets down on one knee and tells you how this moment was waiting just for you. He'll know how to build things (like your father), he'll know how to fix things (like your father), and he'll know secrets that make your toes curl. He'll be the man to teach your sons to be men - teach them how to love a woman right - and teach your daughters to love themselves enough to never let a single man take away their self-worth (like you did). He won't be perfect but perfectly for you. He's out there, because if you believe there's a G-d and that He's everywhere then you just have to believe...cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-79078833769143230272010-09-01T12:00:00.003-04:002010-09-03T01:08:45.994-04:009/2/10<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I'm trying to understand this thing called love. Why we as humans have this basic need for love. To love another, but more importantly to be loved. Why we hit a certain age where this quest for love consumes us, and if it didn't then happiness would come easier.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">Why we feel less valuable without love. Why we cling when there's a glimpse of love in our midst, allow ourselves to be set up for a crushing fall when things don't go as that sliver of hope counted on.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">Once, I wasn't 28. Once, I wasn't like this. Didn't feel this deadline looming over my head. I always looked for love in all the wrong places. Always looked for love lurking around the corner. But never like this. Never with this urgency. This rush. This disappointment. How do we reconcile this need for love? The weight of the world is love and now it's resting heavy on my shoulders to the point where my eyes brim with tears threatening to come out at any given moment at the thought of once potential lovers who just want to take take take so much all at once and then without a moment's notice just leave with everything they were able to get out, and when you've already been sucked dry what else is left to give to the next? But the thing is, just when we think there's nothing left to give there's always some reserve we find tucked away far behind our secrets we save for late nights staying up with lovers licking opened wounds.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">I've tried praying. I've tried talking to G-d sincerely and earnestly, leveling with Him, bargaining. I've written a list hoping it would manifest itself in the form of a perfect person created just to complement me. I've threatened to switch teams when I've become too jaded. And I know the advice that will be given is to not sweat it and not stress. Is anyone able to do that successfully without the help of our vices to distract us? How strong can I pretend to be before I crumble underneath the gaze of a man who holds the promise of a future in his hands?</span></span>cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-27937939645458210512010-08-29T11:32:00.007-04:002010-12-22T09:25:40.519-05:008/29/10<span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;" >Your disingenuous ways </span><span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;" >have made me question everything<br />Like why men feign love and devotion all for the sake of sex that doesn't happen<br />Why 3 subway stops once separated my heart from yours<br />Left me waiting and anticipating<br />Seemed like infinite hours<br />And now I can't wait for you to be so far away from my F train.<br />You can keep the G<br />Be gone with it. Ride it all the way to San Francisco.<br />There will be no flowers left at your doorstep for you to place in your hair<br />No silent vigils when you leave<br />No dramatic returns of items that belong to you<br />Just the waiting and the waiting and the glorious waiting for you to leave this borough that was/is yours<br />Will soon be mine<br />Waiting waiting delicious waiting for Brooklyn to become my new love<br />My new lover<br />I will go down on Brooklyn<br />Go down in Brooklyn<br />Brooklyn and I will go down in history as being the most genuine couple<br />Novels will be written about us<br />Posters with our bodies on it<br />Musky oils made to smell like our sex<br />Left as lingering reminders<br />Evoking memories of summer love that expired well before its time.</span>cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-22821708270368002712010-08-16T13:46:00.000-04:002010-08-16T13:43:10.018-04:00Bearded men not Jewish<br>Kipa wearers<br>Married facial-haired men are the only "trust-worthy" ones<br>I fight to wake up another day<br>I fight through crowds<br>Beards<br>Accents<br>Don't talk to me<br>I wear pants to confuse you<br>Let's meet for a drink and talk Torah<br>I'll tell you how Jerusalem lacks Holiness for me<br>I'll confuse you<br>Maybe I'll shock you<br>Maybe that's what I want<br>Maybe I don't know what I want<br>Summer's slipping through my fingers<br>So's my libido<br>It happens<br>I'll just drink and dance<br>And you'll pause<br>Scratch your head<br>Shake it<br>Shake me awaycornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4571840628545238196.post-40009027173412815362010-08-10T02:11:00.000-04:002010-08-10T02:08:00.381-04:00This suddenly feels like a bad f*cking ideaI like to say that nine years ago I could have never predicted that I'd turn out to be "modern orthodox," however I know the truth is otherwise. That if someone would have let me peek at my future amidst hits of ecstasy, I would've known this to be true. That eventually, somewhere along my life's graph, I would find meaning in the mundane; open my heart to belief; that one day I would find G-d, whether at that moment in time or 20 years from then, I knew it would happen; I could see it coming.
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<br>So why then, 9 years down the line, when I'm the girl who bares cleavage while making brachot, would I willingly enter a living arrangement with more potential difficulties than ease? Maybe it makes sense within the confusion, as I never seem to go for the easy choices, for the decisions that always follow logic. No, instead I go against the grain. Throw logic to the wind and tell G-d in defiance that I'll make it work, as if He has no choice in what will happen. But it's too late now. No turning back. No matter what, no matter how cyclical life becomes. It always seems a lost job is paired with a new apartment. Change your makom and you change your mazal, but is this any better? Time will tell.
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<br>So now I'm in the market for a bearded man who I can trust. Who will come bearing a blow torch and secrets of the Torah. Who will help make my home as Holy as it can be in the moment. It's funny how this whole time I was more concerned about kashering the kitchen than the size of my bedroom; toveling dishes over living room decor. And of course immediately after signing my soul to the devil all thoughts turn to Israel, and my heart has never experienced such hurt as seeing photos for the first time of a friend's ripening belly, round and ready to raise the future. These things, they happen. Life happens. Without caution. No stopping it now so I must go with the flow as cliched as I may become. There was another ending but then I got tired.cornflake girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08784478601388448112noreply@blogger.com0