(Please, no platitudes)

It's like getting addicted to cigarettes to replace coffee.

Can one thing ever replace another? Doubtful. But if you don't have time for anything, it all falls to the wayside. The good things go first.

That's very frightening.

Priorities? Are there any?

I don't think blogging is all that healthy.

Oh well. Back to work.

Dillemma of the Week

Should I apply to YU's Revel Graduate School for Jewish History?

Why or why not?

Yeah, I'm Back. I shoulda stayed, but I'm back.

Thanks, Stx, for blowing my cover...I wasn't gonna post for a few days yet, but with all the pressure from y'all...

Wow.

Before I left, everyone kept asking me why I was going. My answer: "I need to." And I did. It's amazing how you don't know how much you need something until you have it again. And how much more you miss it once you taste it for a moment.

I needed to see the Kosel.
I needed to see the lady at the Kosel who reached into her change purse every single time that one of the women asking for money came over to her.
I needed to see the chayelet who turned around and gave tzedaka to the old lady sitting outside the Tachana Merkazit.
I needed to see the friends of mine who left extremely comfortable lives in Chutz La'aretz to begin their marraige on holy soil.
I needed to see friends who left less comfortable lives in Chutz La'aretz for not-so-easy lives on holy soil.
I needed to see my sister, brother-in-law, and their children, who have planted themselves Ba'aretz and have directed their lives exclusively to Torah and Hashem.
I needed to see my grandfather, who represents a generation that has lived through so many eras and has more knowledge and life experience than anyone I know.
I needed to see Rebbetzin Kanievsky and have the zchus to watch her holy husband make havdala.
I needed to daven at Kever Rachel.
I needed to speak in Hebrew, which is far closer to Lashon Hakodesh than the language that I speak here.
I needed to walk on the streets that had led to the Beis Hamikdash.
I needed to be able to give money to a random guy in the airport who couldn't pay his taxi driver, but knew he could ask us because we were frum.

I needed to stay for longer.

I went to remind myself of what I miss in Chutz La'aretz.
I came back with the knowledge that I must return.

Haitus

After (one of) My Best Friend's Wedding, I'm going on a very long-overdue journey of spiritual rejuvination.

I'll be back in the end of January ;)

No excuses

The things you learn when dealing with people who don't like you...

You know, you are fully capable of dealing with your emotions. When someone makes a comment, there's a conscious decision that goes on that goes on in a split second in your head. How to react?

You can choose to see it as an insult; you can choose to let it slide. There's no "I can't help it." It's something I've realized recently. You have the capability to decide whether to get angry or offended. And I've seen it happen-it's fascinating. X makes a careless remark, which causes Y to hate X forever. But Y could have stopped and thought Hm...I'm sure X didn't mean it that way...people aren't malicious by nature...

Those Wild-Eyed Radicals...

One of my jobs at work is organizing an archive of "alternative press." Alternative press is (like it sounds), anything printed that is not mainstream. I've learned some interesting things:

1. Only the people who call themselves "left" write alternative press pamphlets. Does that mean that "right" is mainstream? ;)

2. There's a lot of hatred. Most of these magazines, pamphlets, etc., are extremely incendiary (and I don't mean flammable ;) ), to the point that I actually had to put some of them down and take a deep breath (not 'cause I was angry with them, but 'cause I was angry AT them-for spreading lies, etc. FWI: There are lots of "Palestinian" reviews that are downright frightening.)

3. Everyone who publishes this "alternative press" is sure that everyone else hates them, and is out to get them, specifically, and so has to strike before the enemy. It's really weird.

4. There was an overabundance of "New"s and "Left"s as part of the title. People really want to show that their cause is different than everyone else's. (I guess it's like on a personal description on a blog, where the person writes "I am unique," like everyone else.)

Ultimately:
Many many people today take on Purposes and run, very far, with them because they have nothing else to cling to. It's kinda sad.

History + Theatre

So what's the connection between a frum actress and history? I'm not quite sure yet, but I'm almost there. There is certainly some kind of strange connection between history and theatre.

So far, my two favorite history teachers used to be very involved in theatre, in addition to my boss at the rare books library.

Maybe it's a matter of giving over some kind of message? An inherant teaching thing? I'm not sure yet...but it's something I'm thinking about.

There are so many musicals (very) roughly based in history: 1776, Les Mis (because of which, incidentally, I thought the commoners "lost" the French Revolution until 7th grade), Ragtime, Assassins, even Chess, for crying out loud!

I feel like there should be a class teaching history through musicals. I think it would be fascinating.

Addendum: I was thinking about it more (especially 'cause I just bought the "Grimmoire" for Wicked), and I decided I would do it as a workshop if I ever make a troupe/drama school thing for frum high school girls. (Stx, get the notebook-Did you know that Stephen Schwartz and the producer wrote the entire story for Wicked on notecards before they started anything? Sound familiar? ;) )

A note on music

The שער שירה is just below the שער תשובה

I just want to point out the amazing power of music-to hurt and to heal, to create and to destroy. How one can live without it I just don't know.

I often find that I can express myself better through song than through prose. Not that I write music-I plagiarize shamelessly, but I wish I could. There is so much that you could say in a song. So much that is not said that is meant. For example, the other day, I sooooo wanted to sing "The Dangling Conversation." Instead, I was called intolerant and judgmental. Ah well. I still know I was right.

Sheeeeeeeee's back!!

So I was going through all the posts I saved as drafts during the semester and found some fascinating things. I'd basically written two or three words to describe entire emotions or thought processes. Dunno, it just taught me something about myself. But I'm glad to see that while there was an exceptionally depressed one, there was also a positive, bright one. And, as always, I tried to find a lesson from them ;)

I'll post two of them now (one kinda leads into the other):

1. The first was written one night when I came home from a community event. I was extremely depressed, because my thoughts the entire night while smiling and nodding at people I hadn't seen since high school were: They have no idea who I am anymore. They don't care. They think I'm weird 'cause I'm studying history for the sole reason that I like it! Why can't I have a close connection with one of my high school teachers? Why doesn't anyone think I'm special for being me? Why do I have to fit into everyone else's box?

'Tis interesting. During the semester, I'm usually very busy and don't have time to talk to many people, much less set aside time for serious Torah learning, etc. (aside from Partners in Torah, which I fit in 'cause it's ABSOLUTELY necessary), and I get depressed 'cause I have nobody to talk to. Strange? Nah...

Yeah, anyway. I'm over that.

*twiddles thumbs*

2. The second one is about my advisor, who is an absolute gem. He cares about his students to a degree that I haven't seen since...well...high school! ;) What I find about him is that he makes me believe that I can do things that I've always thought I couldn't. So the other day (actually, now it's the other month), he told me to apply to Yale Graduate School for a Ph.D. Me? L'll me? I don't know anything! I'm not that good! Wait...do you really think so?

*Prepare for another self-analysis*

It taught me a lesson. YOU can change a life. YOU have the power to take someone's lowsy self-esteem and bring it up. Because Dr. G. believed that I could do it, I made the effort to prove him right. It's amazing the difference a few kind words will do.

(Incidentally, I'm not at all saying that my teachers in high school didn't do that-they DID! It's interesting what you see from hindsight.)

Now...that wasn't very coherant, was it? Oh well.

Not thinking coherantly yet.

No time to post 'till after December 19, so you get the song that most closely describes my thoughts.

Time it was and what a time it was
It was
A time of innocence
A time of confidences
Long ago, it must be
I have a photograph
Treasure your memories
They're all that's left of you.

-Simon and Garfunkel

Please daven for a refuah shelama for Shayndl Rachel bas Sima Leah.

How surprising.

No time to post a real post, so here's a quick observation that I couldn't resist.

From Google Desktop News (sitefeed)

"Hamas Promises to Retain Truce in Israel"
-Guardian Unlimited (12 hours ago)

"Hamas will End Truce in Israel"
-BBC News (7 hours ago)

Um...am I the only one confused?
And they're both UK newspapers...you'd think someone would be reading the other papers...

Amused While Procrastinating

Google search item that led someone to my blog:

"'Regel Achas' latin"

Aww...I can see where you'd think it's a nominative and an accusative, but it's actually Hebrew.

It means "one foot."

I really wonder what the context was...

(must...do...outline...)

Rabbi Neuberger

I don't have words to describe Rabbi Neuberger, nor the tremendous loss that Klal Yisroel is experiencing with his פטירה. This was a man who loved every single Jew, and literally saved hundreds of them-both spiritually and physically. Governors, mayors, government officials-they all called him for advice, as did former students and plain old laymen. My mind kinda boggles when I think of what his reward is in the עולם האמת.

One story my father always told about him-one Yom Tov, the phone rang. To the surprise of his children and grandchildren, Rabbi Neuberger answered the phone. After a hurried conversation, he hung up and turned to his gaping viewers.

"This was a case of פדיון שבוים, the saving of Jewish captives (something for which it is permitted to break Shabbos). I therefore was not only allowed to, but was required to answer the phone, even though it was Yom Tov, because there are Jewish lives hanging in the balance. And for that, we must do whatever we can."

The article below was written by the editor of the Baltimore Jewish Times, a Jewish magazine that covers all types of Judaism in Baltimore. The full article can be found here.

On a cloudy early Sunday morning I sit over a cup of hot tea and don't feel as if the world is quite the same. The feeling has intensified since learning about the death of Rabbi Herman Neuberger.

For those who don't know the name and don't understand, he was everything. He was 87 years old and up until his death I guarantee you he had more energy than you or I. He was not old as much as he was enduring and moving forward despite age.

On one level, there was no one else we know who national and state politicians needed to see more than Rabbi Neuberger. He'd listen to them, encourage and offer advice if he agreed with them or not. Just three weeks ago, he sat with Governor Ehrlich in his modest Ner Israel Rabbinical College office, and reminded the state's top official that winter was coming and that there were plenty of poor people who couldn't afford the rising costs of heat.

He asked the governor what he planned to do to help. U.S. Senator Barbara Mikulski, a long time friend of Rabbi Neuberger's, has visited the Mt. Wilson Lane office countless times. Friend and confidant, it was Rabbi Neuberger who she came to for a final validation of her desire to run for the U.S. Senate.

There are other, perhaps more difficult stories. Again, the modesty of his study didn't suggest that he'd been on the phone for hours rescuing fellow Jews be they from the threat of Islamic puppet states to the killer anti-Semitism behind a Communist regime, it was Rabbi Neuberger who got them out. The stories could consume the space of a library.

But then there are the localized accounts of people with no where else to turn, who needed direction, who needed help. And who knows what the help was. Nobody knew, because when they came to him for help, he would take care of it in a dignified, personal manner.

Two personal stories.

When my sister passed away in December of 2003, it was a very, very difficult time for my family. I wasn't entirely up to facing anyone during the shiva period. One afternoon during shiva, there was a knock on my door. It was Rabbi Neuberger. He came in, sat down in my living room, and all that I can say was that after he left, I felt as if my thoughts, my feelings during shiva were more focused or directed.

He didn't know my sister, but while he was there, I felt love, I felt strength.

Whenever I had the opportunity to meet with Rabbi Neuberger, before we'd get down to the subject of Jewish journalism, he'd first ask about my children. He knew where they were attending school, and he wanted to know "what the older one's doing" and "what's the younger one doing?" He wanted to know what seminary "the older one" would attend in Israel. He wanted to know about her fiance, now husband. And then, he'd talk to me about the issue he had in mind. Some of the time, he'd have difficult points to bring up. But all of the time, we left with warmth.

There was a time when I lived in Detroit that I questioned whether or not I'd want to stay in the business of Jewish journalism. On a visit to Baltimore, I was able to get on Rabbi Neuberger's calendar. I remember meeting with him at his Yeshiva Lane home. Most of what he said to me was very personal, very powerful. But he did say at the time that I couldn't leave the profession, that it was sometimes going to be hard, but to be brave and to keep doing what I was doing.
As recently as a handful of months ago, he reminded me of that conversation and told me to keep moving forward. His words had a way of penetrating all of the nonsense cluttering my head.

I know for sure there are literally thousands of lives he has impacted.

That he died after lighting his Shabbat candles says everything. Here was a man bringing light onto the world his entire life. One more time, he kindled those lights.

Now it's up to us. But for so many, there's going to be that desire to pick up the phone and call Rabbi Neuberger to get his advice or opinion. We're going to wonder what he'd do in certain situations. He made this world better. I hope we can live up to the lessons he taught us.

Note: I wrote this the night that I heard about it (Motzei Shabbos), and blogger said it "had errors," and it never showed up, so I assumed that it got lost in the Internet Black Hole. I only knew it showed up 'cause I checked my email and I have my blogs emailed to me...I'm not sure why it came up now (11/1), but I still mean it!

Incidentally, the mayor and the governor were both supposed to have been at the funeral, as well as some other government people...and the governor of MD definately went to be Menachem Avel his children. That's just the kind of person R' Neuberger was. As an aide said "I've never seen Governor Erlich change his schedule on two hours notice. EVER!" But for this, he did.

בטול זמן

Ah, the lessons you learn from going to university...

Recently, I've been busy. Well, very busy. I'm taking a class that essentially involves writing a 40-page thesis, which can be a bit painful (although FASCINATING!!). I'm also taking four other classes, none of which are any piece of cake. And missing all these classes (and the time to write papers) for Yom Tov hasn't been helping very much.

But I just thought of something (which I do, occasionally, between thinking about Hebrew printers, the American Revolution, East Asia, the Italian Renaissance, and Latin). Because of my crazy workload (although not as crazy as Stx's ever was, but still...), I've been utilizing every moment. Any chance I have, I'm reading textbooks, translating Livy, doing reseach, and writing essays. I have not surfed the internet since the summer (and now that I've added Google Desktop, I don't even have to check and see when blogs are updated! ;) ). I've even learned how to create time! If you sleep less, you can steal hours from the night and add them to the day.

Because I've been so pressed for it, I've been thinking about time. Imagine if every mitzva had a deadline, if every chesed had a list of requirements that had to be fulfilled by a certain date. Would we then focus more on them? For me, if I know something has to be done by a certain time, I'll do it! In general, I find myself putting time limits on things so that I'll force myself to be good about getting them done.

But do we do that with mitzvos? Do we see our lives as something temporal, with an absolute deadline, after which we get a grade that will decide the rest of our existance?

We should do it every R"H and Y"K. No, we should do it every day, every hour. How do we spend our time? Are we working hard to meet our deadline? Or will we wait until the last minute and hand in a scribbled, unedited copy, having had "so much more important" things to do?

Shana Tova

I just want to wish everyone out in blogland (and elsewhere) a C'siva V'chasima Tova, a place in the Book of Life ;), and a happy, sweet, and successful New Year, filled with peace and joy for all of Klal Yisroel.

Silly Historians...

I'm doing research for a paper, and found this fascinating quote:

"To a modern reader inadequately equipped with Talmud's knowledge, it is virtually impossible to penetrate...even a simple letter...even ordinary letter writing was heavily affected by the literary style flowing from the intensive Talmudic training..."

--The Jews of Early Modern Venice, essay by Robert Bonfil, 172-173 (Italics mine)

DUH. It's so frustrating to read studies on Jewish history by people who have never learned what the Jews of the period learned (and continue to learn...), and therefore have no clue of the mentality of the people, and so of course can't understand the society!!

At least this guy figured that out...'course, he then goes on to attempt to "penetrate" the culture...

A Note Before Entering Shabbos

From a girl in my class:

"Judaism is such a beautiful religion!"

Isn't it, though? ;)

Have a wonderful, meaningful Shabbos-selichos start this week...are YOU ready?

What's on your...primary document?

As y'all know (or should know), I'm a History major. This means that I do a lot of reading of private books-journals, diaries, personal letters-to find the past within them.

So I was thinking about my personal journal (no, not my blog...the one I actually write in occasionally with, y'know, a pen...), which I use for detailing private things that I need to get out on paper but don't want to share with the whole wide world (the www..;) ). Could my journal be used as a primary document for a historian? (Not a biographer...) Do I describe world shattering events, politics, or natural disasters?

Uh...no. I write about personal "world shattering events," many of which are not so world shattering...I write about the politics of my personal surroundings, and I don't think I've ever included an entry on the weather!

That's not to say that I think my journal is so important that people will later write papers on it (at least I really really hope they won't...). It's just a comparison. In years past (ah..here's the Miniver Cheevyism again...), what went on it the world around them was so important to peoples' lives that they wrote about it in their most personal accounts. Now we are (or at least I am) so self-centered that the only world we care about is the one within our ד' אמות.

Just something to think about...

Boy? Crying?

I was sitting in class the other day, minding my own business (or rather, writing as fast as I can to keep up with the prof.), when I saw a male creature crying. It was weird. I got uncomfortable. He kept rubbing at his eyes, and every once in a while, his face would crumple and he'd cover it. It was scary, almost. I felt so bad, just being there and not being able to do something. (I wanted to give him a hug...but never fear, I held back ;) )

And I got to thinking (as I sometimes do). Why is it that we it's so much worse when guys cry then when girls do? I guess it's something to do with the whole masculinity thing..they try so hard not to show emotions that if something leaks through, it must be pretty bad.

It reminded me of a funeral I once went to (one of my first). It was a girl in my school, who had an anurism and suddenly died. I didn't realize the gravity of the situation until my principal stood up to be מספיד. And he started to cry. My unshakeable, infallable, pricipal...crying! Suddenly I realized how awful it was that this girl had been struck so young...

I don't know. I don't really have much to say about it. It was just a thought that struck me and I've been thinking about it. It affected me...so I'm sharing it.

Why am I writing? I've finished an essay. I really should be doing research for my 7 pg. paper due on Rosh Hashana or my thesis...but I'm just gonna blog a bit before I disappear again. 'Cause...well...I'm an official quintessential nerd! ;)

Sakrfys: Get Out

Incidentally, my favorite ;)
'Cause I WANNA move to Omaha!

Ain't it comfortable to live in a big community,
Shuls and Touros every corner, and we're right near the city,
We got pizza falafel, Italian and Chinese,
Ice cream, candy stores, Mendy's and Dougie's.
This is Gan Eden on Earth - what an opportunity

Got my choice of Daf Yomi shiur morning and night,
Where to send the kids to school, wife and I get to fight,
It's like a ghetto where we live, every house another Yid,
You think we'd all be friends in the neighborhid,
But we don't even know the people living next door to our right.

Is this what the Aibishter really wants from me?
To sit here in my ghetto community...
I could be sharing and caring for Jews round the country,
Don't be selfish, live more sacrificially!

Get out of New York, New Jersey, LA, Chicago,
Toronto, Montreal, London, sayinara!
Move out to Edmonton, Charleston, Oakland, Omaha,
You wanna waste your life away or reach a Jew that's far?
They're all or brothers and sisters,
It ain't about survival of the fittest,
(If you wanna do His ratzon ultimately,
You gotta give up some of life's luxuries)
Go and make a difference - sheves achim gam yachad.

Meanwhile our fellow Jews are dropping off the radar,
While we're here enjoying our fire-poppers and potatoes,
We're losing more and more, more and more, more and more, more and more,
Brothers and sisters - they ain't gonna wait-a,
That's it, I'm off help the Jews, keep the change, see ya later.

Don't gotta be a rabbi, rebbe or schochtor,
There's loads of rooms for lawyers, therapists and doctors.
Just think of the impact you'll make - it's a piece of cake,
It won't be for naught, just living in our courts,
On a faraway brother, maybe Christopher Schwartz.

The disclaimer is one of the best parts of the song, but you have to buy the CD (which, by the way, looks like a vinyl record) to see it ;)