5/31/12

I don't understand what's wrong with the NYC subway system tonight.
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
I think the only people who donated were Russian
After I and my throbbing headache fled through the open subway doors
I caught a glimpse and listen to a guy on an electric guitar singing a song
When did the train first become a place to display your art?
And when did people stop caring if there was an audience who wanted to receive it?
Now I know half of my complaining is due to the discomfort between my ears,
But I wouldn't go reciting this poem on the R train when people still haven't finished their long commute home

4/25/12

Today in Israel
There's a memorial ceremony in every city
Too many of our boys lost forever
We attempt to remember each and every one
Call them by name
Their faces - too many - flash across screens from Rabin Square to our living room TVs
Each one somehow looks like he could be family
Like she could've had a bright future
Like they didn't deserve their fate

Today in Israel a woman collapses in a stranger's arms
Her son was killed 10 years ago
But it stings like it happened yesterday
And she is again overcome by grief

Today in Israel
Politicians thank soldiers for their service
It is their selflessness that keeps this country safe
They are our future

Today in Israel
A new immigrant stands in silence during the siren's sound
She reflects in wonder
Feels like her aliyah is manifest destiny
Vows to hug a soldier every day
To never take this country for granted

Today in New York
I'm singing Chanukah songs in my head
I guess I'm feeling like today is pretty miraculous

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.

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.

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.

I don't want to live a life of gashmiut

Goals for 2011

Lose at least 5lbs (already lost 1)
Florida camping
A month in Israel this summer with my girls
Italy for xmas (davka) and Paris NYE
Make more $$$ dolla dolla bills, yo

So 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.

It's come to my attention that I feel very far away

Four 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.

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.

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.

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. xx