tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64688052330753666882012-02-09T14:15:42.623-05:00What surprises me may not surprise you....%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.comBlogger851100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-45224507473539736652012-02-08T22:30:00.003-05:002012-02-08T22:37:58.411-05:00

After reading a comment on an article online somewhere, I couldn't help but shudder at the thought of how much we are missing out because we don't employ this tactic this by us. I'm not sure how many of you listen to Jewish music, but throughout, were one to pay attention to lyrics, you would notice that there are literally dozens of songs that talk about davening. There are those in Hebrew, and

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-89931693886436455512012-01-31T23:30:00.012-05:002012-01-31T23:41:03.177-05:00

I can't recall the last time, if ever, that I saw a video of a Gadol Hador from the previous generation (aside from the Lubavitcher Rebbe), let alone 5 of them. It's 8 minutes long, but it starts from the beginning a few times. It ends at 3:21 before it starts again. Just seeing them sends a shiver down my spine... So, I figured I'd share. .

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-49733798936407420452012-01-17T21:50:00.013-05:002012-01-17T21:59:02.356-05:00

Watching people a few hundred feet up in the air, walking or bicycling on a string that a newborn could wrap its pinky finger around has always astonished me. Regardless of the science behind it (using a long pole as a means of forcing one's center of gravity onto the string) does nothing to subtract from the magnificence of the act. Therefore, it's these performers that take my breath away when

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-48175819310961290042012-01-10T23:10:00.000-05:002012-01-10T23:10:55.690-05:00

I'm getting published! This week, for the first time, my name will be in a newspaper attached to an article I wrote (I've been published before, but it was ghost-written). Yet, as the title of this post states, I have mixed feelings. That's because the article isn't a happy-go-lucky article about a lesson I learned nor is it an inspiring dvar Torah. No, it isn't an article crying out to Hashem

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-3352299460815510142012-01-07T22:30:00.021-05:002012-01-07T23:34:20.261-05:00

Although you wouldn't know it, there are probably things you do every day, sometimes many times a day, that have no basis in halacha. Now, in and of itself that isn't really a problem, as long as it doesn't violate halacha. None of them, the ones that I'm aware of anyway, are transgressing halacha, so they're fairly innocent- for you to do. Being the highly judgmental people we are, even though

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-21621724723551856972012-01-01T22:39:00.000-05:002012-01-01T22:39:47.853-05:00

Chareidi against Chareidi Chareidi against Dati Dati against Chareidi Chareidi against Secular Secular against Chareidi Jews against Jews What can I do, but cry? Who's at fault?! I don't care! Spitting= Useless and Inciting Media Coverage= Useless and Inciting "Open Letters"= Useless What can I do, but cry? Our Protectors?? Our Future?? Our People?? Ones who have died

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-86062887622831623942011-12-23T11:30:00.000-05:002011-12-23T11:49:15.736-05:00

JESUS’ BIRTHDAY  • The whole mystery around Jesus' birth has no mention in the New Testament. Jesus is in fact introduced as an adult in the Bible, implying that there is no interest in his birth or childhood.  • Popular myth around Jesus is that his birth was Jan 1, 1 A.D.  • This came about due a mathematical error by Exogus involving addition and was therefore off by 4 years. This mistake,

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-33010756239409365872011-12-16T13:45:00.002-05:002011-12-16T13:47:00.766-05:00

With Chanukah almost here, I can't help but recall a presentation I had to make for school a few years ago. It isn't, at all, the most impressive work that can be done with a PowerPoint presentation, far from it, but considering I had no experience with PowerPoint, I'd give it a grade of "pretty good." Regardless, I like it and had a blast doing it. So, my chanukah "gelt" to you, is the

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-63514949961776438802011-12-10T18:30:00.031-05:002011-12-10T18:50:27.339-05:00

Debating is awesome! But you knew that, right? Which blogger doesn’t love debating?! Well, I definitely qualify as a blogger (see post) and I know I love debating. It wasn’t the writing side of me that brought about the discussion, but to be honest, it wasn’t the debating side either. Quite a while back, an acquaintance of mine brought up the topic of dating in regards to herself. She had just

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-90635895736984760842011-12-08T00:00:00.001-05:002011-12-08T00:17:34.326-05:00

I commute a lot for various reasons and when I do so, if I'm not tired or caught up in a novel, I often pay attention to the other passengers and try and get a feel for what they're up to, how they're doing, what they do, etc. It's just a thing I do, which I may have written about before, and I really enjoy it. Rarely do I get answers, but occasionally, I do. The other day I was on the train

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-25194117783448989932011-12-04T20:15:00.010-05:002011-12-04T20:31:55.685-05:00

tea tastes better than scotch your 5 most recent Facebook statuses revolve around your Mommy and pills you’re hot then you’re cold, you’re yes then you’re no you’re dressed warmer than Santa Claus and shivering crossing the street to buy a tea just isn’t worth the effort your cough starts coughing up pieces of you toast becomes tastier than chocolate the guy at the

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-39409950756159371962011-11-28T22:00:00.017-05:002011-11-28T22:03:41.807-05:00

Below is an email that some, perhaps many of you will be receiving some time this week or next. I started this months ago after I started receiving more spam emails than I used to and couldn't recall putting my email on any shady sites. The only thing I could think of was that it was due to forwards. I love forwards, some of them anyway, but it drives me insane when I see every other person who

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-34832702509827151192011-11-23T19:45:00.030-05:002012-01-10T23:12:14.940-05:00

You dare?! You violate my private space as well as the trust of your friend, and then dare accuse your friend of having done something inappropriate? Something which you had no right to see? "No right," I said. No no, a lot worse than "no right," not only no right, but by looking at, you again, not surprisingly I know, disrespected me- but this time you included your friend. Entering a place

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-85717680932400114562011-11-18T12:15:00.002-05:002011-11-18T12:37:12.108-05:00

... to me :) Instead of asking for something from my readers or reminiscing about my blog or the past year, I decided to give you something instead. Below is a video of one of the most beautiful versions of Canon in D I've ever heard. It's been on auto-repeat since I logged onto my computer today, and I can't help but share it. For those of you who have never heard of Canon in D, it was composed

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-76037892251706126602011-11-16T22:51:00.001-05:002011-11-16T23:45:49.987-05:00

Since before I started driving, I saw the RPM dial, often displayed prominently, on the dashboard. Now that I'm driving, both new and older cars, I've started paying attention to all sorts of different things that relate to driving. I hope to share a lot of what I've learned, seen and noticed over the next few weeks and months. For those who don't even know what RPM stands for, it's

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-90981171028053778892011-11-14T07:50:00.001-05:002011-11-14T15:40:20.027-05:00

"At least if I go bald I don't need to worry about marrying a shallow girl." ~ Guy at Barber Shop

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-85763118526888928142011-11-09T19:45:00.005-05:002011-11-09T20:03:31.057-05:00

The comment that started it all? When we first met? Your first text? Our first phone call? The first time we chatted? Our first walk? The picture I tagged you in? The first time we met outside my place? When we went ice skating the first time? When we went ice skating the second time? The emoticon you sent via text by accident? Your call on my birthday? The picture of "us"? The hours on the

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-91844958382496164212011-11-07T22:30:00.008-05:002011-11-07T22:35:04.143-05:00

I was on the train going to an interview the other night (I got the job, B"H) and while waiting, a Hispanic (looking) woman (she later implied her name is Monica, so I'll call her that) sitting next to me turned to me with a smile and asked, "What is Jewish? Is it a religion? Slavery? Cult? Culture?" Shocked: "It's a religion." "Which religion came first," Monica continued, "Christianity, Jewish

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-35458423560014349632011-11-02T23:40:00.006-04:002011-11-03T14:52:18.163-04:00

Have you ever known anyone who treated you one way for a significant period of time, but at the first sign of contention, turned against you? How about someone with whom you had chatted with for various lengths of time, over a long period and had always treated with you with the utmost respect? How about someone who had shown respect for a certain aspect of who you are and then they go ahead and

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-45388940454797771652011-10-31T23:20:00.013-04:002011-10-31T23:31:09.515-04:00

I think...? The world population has reached 7 billion! Or has it? Now, 4 months from now, same difference. The nitpickers will say that it does make a difference. Blah to you. I haven't seen any recently, but TEDTalks used to be the primary way that I used to entertain myself on the computer at nights when I was too lazy to do anything other than watch. Some of the presentations were incredibly

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-40132864840075777782011-10-26T22:15:00.000-04:002011-10-27T16:50:27.667-04:00

A few months ago, after the indescribably horrific death of Leiby Kletzky A"H, a rabbi, Rabbi Yehuda Levin, gave his opinion for the reason that it occurred. If you recall, Leiby's kidnapping and subsequent murder took place soon after the legality of gay marriage had been decided upon in NYS. The vote passed, rather underwhelmingly, yet was considered to be the benchmark by which the rest of the

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-29757079041932926432011-10-25T08:55:00.009-04:002011-10-25T08:55:00.579-04:00

This isn't a real repost, but I did want to say that I made the voting a lot easier, and wanted to make sure everyone knew it. I got some responses, but not quite enough to make a final decision quite yet. So, vote here please. To understand what you're voting on and why, read this post.

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-5151172096959950272011-10-18T19:45:00.002-04:002011-10-19T00:35:17.365-04:00

I've hinted to this topic more than once, but I've never really written about it (I did once actually, but it was deleted a long long time ago and very vaguely at that unless you were "in the know") There are numerous reasons for that, but virtually all of them have disappeared. The only dilemma that remains is how to write it. When writing about controversial or potentially offensive topics,

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-9306316869462778572011-10-11T18:53:00.007-04:002011-10-11T18:59:04.069-04:00

(Not so happy with the quality of this post because I had to leave and come back to it a few dozen times, so it's probably quite disjointed. Oops. It's been on my mind a while and I just wanted to get it out already.) Baruch Hashem, I managed to write some hearfelt, and hopefully inspiring to some, posts in the weeks preceding Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur. However, now I face a challenge. It's one

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-73215162151862038752011-10-09T00:05:00.000-04:002011-10-09T00:05:38.458-04:00

Yom Kippur is over. We've all, presumably, davened our hearts out and we're all on a high. Angels. Pure, holy, clean angels. Yet, minutes after we finished neilah, we're already saying the bracha of "s'lach lanu." We all know the answer that it's because we've been thinking that we want the fast to be over sooner so we can eat already? But are we really machshiv that thought, even as we rip

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-17615988378535331272011-10-07T15:50:00.001-04:002011-10-07T17:10:08.795-04:00

With so much to say during the Days of Awe, it was difficult to both compose my thoughts in a comprehensible fashion and then find a way write it all down in a way that I'll understand it, never mind anyone else. Unfortunately, the day has arrived and a lot of words will remain unwritten this year. I didn't have very much time to spend writing posts, and the one that I started writing last night

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-37256958058532356912011-10-04T20:51:00.001-04:002011-10-04T20:51:20.619-04:00

Note: There should probably be a lot of l’havdil’s and k’viyachol’s in this post, but I’m not really that good with them, so put them in where you think they belong. As Yom Kippur approaches, I get more and more nervous. I ruminate, lucubrate, ponder, wonder, contemplate, reflect, deliberate and cogitate. What have I done? What didn’t I do? These two questions, of all of those asked in my

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-69055168475612478162011-10-01T23:48:00.000-04:002011-10-02T00:11:53.797-04:00

This Rosh Hashana was different than most years in more ways than I can count. There was the lack of sleep, the perpetual headache, the general feeling that I wasn't happy. This year, it was more than nerves, oy, I wish I could say nerves contributed at all. No, this year, it hit me that I had lived most of the past year, wrongly. Not because of my actions or inaction, but because of the

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-13339388130520331422011-09-27T18:37:00.000-04:002011-09-27T18:37:08.427-04:00

PART 1: I'm Sorry I'm sorry to many people for many reasons, but right now, I'm sorry to my parents, family and close friends about one decision I made in particular. You were right, and I was wrong. I should've listened to you, you tried long and you tried hard. But, all I did was dig myself deeper in... deeper and deeper. You tried this explanation, you tried that one. You went one route

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-39928038415121280462011-09-22T22:26:00.001-04:002011-09-22T22:26:57.295-04:00

Addendum to previous post: How did I use this year's allotment of words? How will I use next year's? Disclaimer: The quotes below are there because they bring my point across. In no way am I giving any validity to the authors, any of their opinions, thoughts regarding anything, or whatever they may have said aside from what has been quoted. I don't know their religious beliefs, I

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-48478832006218433292011-09-20T20:28:00.000-04:002011-09-20T20:28:18.416-04:00

Where was I last year? Where will I be next year? Where am I now? How have I grown over the past year? How have I fallen? How was my davening last year? How is my davening now? How do I want my davening to look in a year? How was my learning a year ago? How is my learning now? How much do I realistically see myself learning daily next year? How, and what, was my job a year ago? How, and

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-81308328667381902152011-09-14T00:15:00.000-04:002011-09-14T00:15:37.537-04:00

You need me more than you need a job. You need me more than you need to go to school. You need me more than you need your friends. You need me more than you need relatives. You need me more than you need anyone else. Well, you need now, what I will be one day. For those of you who don't know what my career choice is, I'm going to be a psychologist one day. And yes, I am asserting that someone I

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-63851161064947481092011-09-04T14:09:00.000-04:002011-09-04T17:10:23.357-04:00

Well, it's been a while since I last posted and I don't really have such a great reason. It comes down to having tons to say about topics I refuse to write about and having writer's block about every other topic. The words are there for some posts, but not for others. At times I feel like the words would pour out of me and I'd have a great post, but it's never a time that's opportune for me to

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-90409941639146856032011-08-25T00:16:00.000-04:002011-08-25T00:16:08.613-04:00

Because the topic is about homosexuality, there will be some graphic details. No worse than in the documentary if you saw it, but it’s not something I (hopefully anyone) would be talking about over a cup of coffee. So if you’re drinking or something, I’d suggest you finish up before you continue. Being a guy, I don’t know how sensitive any girl will be to reading this, so I figured better safe

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-39783952555068943822011-08-22T21:40:00.000-04:002011-08-22T21:40:47.288-04:00

This was inspired by something I posted on a friend's wall for her birthday. What I wrote, as well as the message imparted, lies within the stanzas of this poem. Decisions... We make them all day and wonder... We make them all day and hope... Decisions... They hurt... They heal... Decisions... Doing what's wrong, yet feels right... Doing what's right, yet feels wrong... Decisions...

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-47279379586465523052011-08-16T08:03:00.002-04:002011-08-16T15:53:38.527-04:00

He wheezed, desperately trying to catch his breath as the anvil on his chest impressed itself further and further into his chest cavity. The anvil, a 250-pound mass of steel, lay directly above his heart, squeezing the life-force out of him. He knew that when, if, the anvil was removed, the imprint on him would last for the rest of his life. “I can’t take much more of this,” he thought to himself

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-86355898685419753012011-08-11T23:25:00.000-04:002011-08-11T23:25:16.825-04:00

(Did you Google "shocked meme" to get here? Don't go away!! This post was written for you!) I remember when I used to read Frum Satire that every few months he'd post how readers ended up on his blog. I'm not going to link to an example of that because most of them are, um, explicit in nature. I don't know how many of you have advanced statcounters that actually inform you how people found your

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-10546962780836902132011-08-08T00:57:00.000-04:002011-08-08T00:57:43.859-04:00

These are my thoughts on the 9 days. The title and the post is some mussar aimed exclusively towards myself and was also *sheepish smile* to get your attention. But I think it's something that does apply to us all, so I posted it. There also isn't really so much mussar as much as some insight into some mitzvos and what we can learn about I can learn from it. Based on that, I know what I can do to

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-40662201495829457882011-08-03T21:55:00.001-04:002011-08-03T21:56:38.800-04:00

To be a parent, you must have a child. To say that you're married, you have to have a spouse. To call yourself a psychologist you have to have certain qualifications. To be a student, you must be enrolled in a school. With every noun, there's a trait, state that one is in, achievement, or action to substantiate it. You can't be anything without fulfilling its descriptive qualities. So I was

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-13078430519213326592011-08-01T22:41:00.000-04:002011-08-01T22:41:54.979-04:00

I didn't want to use the word that I saw another blogger use for a few reasons (one being because I couldn't possibly be what she referred to herself as lol), although I did have a really good laugh when I read the word that she used said word in conjunction with. I tried to find a good definition for the context in which she used it so I could provide it here and clue you in as to what word I'm

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-42668480196693145492011-07-31T18:47:00.001-04:002011-07-31T18:48:10.164-04:00

Sometimes, no, not at all. I love commenting on other blogs for so many reasons. The discussions and debates that a comment can start are always a blast. The other bloggers it brings to my own site, bringing in fresh views, backgrounds and ideas that are interesting and thought-provoking. And stam, that there are dozens of us from all over the world using our experiences and wisdom to help others

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-22018038156459687922011-07-28T18:59:00.000-04:002011-07-28T18:59:23.626-04:00

Time to say goodbye? Nope, I don't see that being initiated anytime soon and I'm not going to be the one that does so. I don't think I'll write about that ... yet.  Time to party? Nah, haven't done that in, um, wow, closing in on 3 years since I attended and participated (fully- take that for what you will) in a party. In retrospect, wish I hadn't. But I'm not going to write about parties either.

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-44499684443765739652011-07-24T00:34:00.001-04:002011-07-24T00:35:32.409-04:00

I asked the question that I raised here to someone I respect greatly and he gave me a lot more food for thought on the subject than I had initially considered. He challenged my point that I simply disagreed with their hashkafos and argued that I did not want the yeshiva to exist. He said that if I only deviated from their way of thinking when it came to hashkafos but still approved of the other

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-67091835303862662442011-07-20T03:18:00.000-04:002011-07-20T03:18:44.993-04:00

You were there when I needed you the most. You were there when you were the last thing I needed. At times, you begged me to heed your call. At times, you urged me to throw you away. Your advice is timeless. Your advice is so often frustrating. Your visits are often unexpected. Your visits are occasionally foreseen. In this day and age, people are scared of you and what you bring. In

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-33934997186335867282011-07-17T03:02:00.002-04:002011-07-18T21:26:16.277-04:00

Blogger after blogger, speaker after speaker, and every person on Facebook has been writing about what happened this past week. Everyone I called, everyone who called me, every frum person I've spoken to and even my taxi driver the other night. The adjectives, descriptive analysis of what they think of the perpetrator of the horrendous crime and how they think justice sold be served. It brings

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-38047698223657440612011-07-13T22:36:00.000-04:002011-07-13T22:36:04.914-04:00

Well, I did what I set out to do, so I'm treating myself to a blog post. It's too bad it wasn't something pleasant on my mind, but the venting felt good nonetheless. If there's one sport I'm not a fan of, it's basketball. It's not that I inherently dislike the game, it just happened to be the one sport that I was never any good at. I wasn't incredible at any other sport (unless you count

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-6249515824524798762011-07-07T23:36:00.000-04:002011-07-07T23:36:18.429-04:00

I told myself that I wouldn't post anything until I did something that I have take care of, and that I would have to "earn" the post but I'm hoping that this will actually ease me into it. Wish me luck! There have been a slew of strange/frustrating/awkward/maddening occurrences over the past few weeks that I've had with strangers. Jews, Gentiles, businessmen, random girls and everything in

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-38129896590665464432011-07-03T04:08:00.001-04:002011-07-03T04:09:01.607-04:00

Long-term hachlatos? An oxymoron in my experience. How about you? I'm going to stop listening to kol isha. I'm going to stop listening to all secular music. I'm going to deactivate my Facebook account. I'm going to do this. I'm not going to do that. The list goes on. I wonder if hachlatos are meant to be short term. Inherently I know that they aren't meant to be, but hachlatos, to me, seem to be

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-8184092430557605302011-07-01T00:28:00.000-04:002011-07-01T00:28:25.117-04:00

Disclaimer: This is NOT about a person. I love you so much. You bring a smile to my face every time I see you. Your smell is intoxicating. Without you I'd be antisocial. I get an extra dose of confidence when you're around. Thinking about you sends a pleasant chill down my spine. I sleep better knowing you'll be there for me in the morning. When you're not around, my mood suffers

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-11240960115736192342011-06-29T01:54:00.000-04:002011-06-29T01:54:10.617-04:00

This poem was written by Devorah over at Devorah's Poems. This one struck a chord within me and with a lot of things going on in my life. I was really touched by her words and with her permission, reposted it here. Hope you appreciate it as much as I did. Troubled mindTroubled heartConfusedDisturbedFalling apartFeelings sinkingDrowning deepAloneForgottenMy insides weepBut Someone calls outTakes

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-76361311798945024662011-06-27T01:09:00.000-04:002011-06-27T01:09:47.285-04:00

I received a letter in the mail a little while ago which really got me thinking. It was my old yeshiva soliciting donations. I've received such requests before, but never from this particular yeshiva since I became financially stable. The other yeshivos I attended all gave me reasons to donate to their causes so it never crossed my mind not to give them when I could afford it. They all gave me a

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-40946241375131291532011-06-26T00:12:00.000-04:002011-06-26T00:12:56.942-04:00

This was written a while ago, but all of my answers still apply or have been updated accordingly. Props to Corti (no hyper link because I'm posting this from my cell phone) for the meme idea. When I first saw her challenge, I knew exactly what my real answers to these statements would be. I also knew that they wouldn't be appreciated. Probably not so healthy anyway. With that said, coming up

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-45743734541925168092011-06-22T00:27:00.000-04:002011-06-22T00:27:15.007-04:00

Sounds like something you would expect to hear from a mother telling their child who just pulled their pants down in public, right? Not this time. Some guy named Deshon Marman, a football player at the University of New Mexico, was asked to pull up his pants on a flight. He politely refused numerous times, and was eventually “removed from the plane,” 1 whatever that means. It sounded from the

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-23131409441132862172011-05-31T17:47:00.000-04:002011-05-31T17:47:33.822-04:00

This started off as a short email with, imho, a cute subject line, but because of its length decided to turn it into a blog post. Now, I'm happy I decided to make it a post. Otherwise, the email would have been deleted and what I learned would have remained only in my head. Instead, I get to share it with whoever reads this blog. I'm not going to give you a philosophical reason why everyone

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-49116150161957075782011-05-30T00:43:00.000-04:002011-05-30T00:43:13.290-04:00

I thought you were gone. I wanted you to be gone. I was told that you were gone. I didn't miss you. I was happy without you. But you keep coming back. Like the rain. Like the demons of one's past. Like an old love who refuses to let go. You keep coming back. Everyone said that I can consider you gone forever. Everyone said that you would never come back. Everyone said that it

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-31372518715349026112011-05-29T16:42:00.000-04:002011-05-29T16:42:54.177-04:00

Coffee. I drink it a lot. Not because I need a caffeine fix but because it tastes good and comes in a convenient cup with a cover. It's also a hot drink, which can be found virtually anywhere and is good for my throat which gets sore easily and frequently. As with most food and drinks, I can only have so much of it before I get sick of it and need something new. Regular and French Vanilla are

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-7811718955027912202011-05-28T23:58:00.002-04:002011-05-29T00:01:44.581-04:00

...and I was disappointed. I started going to a shiur on Pirkei Avos on Shabbos afternoon a few weeks ago. The first speaker I heard was pretty good aside from his English which wasn't English but a mixture of Yiddish and English. The second speaker was excellent and I enjoyed him immensely. The third speaker, the one that spoke today, was the best speaker, but his topic left a lot to be

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-67857566354501349302011-05-24T23:01:00.000-04:002011-05-24T23:01:17.345-04:00

Remember this post? Apartment girl? She's back and worse than ever. She called me tonight from a different number, different suggestion and supposedly had completely forgotten about me. She found me from the posting I put up online yesterday because I'm desperate for a new apartment. For those who haven't heard, my frum landlord was kind enough to move in a guy and his girlfriend into one of the

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-26882543979799277312011-05-23T23:07:00.000-04:002011-05-23T23:07:20.581-04:00

Over the past few months, I was wondering how parents raise their kids to be G-d fearing Jews. With all of the challenges and nisyonos out there, is it really up to the parents any longer? Or must they sit back, do their best and pray their brains out that their kids will turn out ok? For a long time I wondered how I would raise my kids to be a Torah Jew. I think, hope and pray that I’ll make a

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-30832846349970713332011-05-20T17:53:00.003-04:002011-05-20T17:53:43.980-04:00

I had to go to the Amazing Savings in Queens yesterday to do some shopping for work. I won't go into detail about how frustrating it was to not know where things are and speak to workers who know less English than a dog (I'm not calling these guys dogs, but at least dogs bark to questions asked. These guys just stared at me blankly before pointing at the item that was staring me in the face).

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-79888914683586301662011-05-18T23:55:00.001-04:002011-05-18T23:57:18.256-04:00

I'm back. I have no idea how long I'll keep this open for, or how often I'll post, but I figured that my new blog will remain in the world of "there, but for all intents and purposes not there because it's nearly impossible to find" until I figure out what I want to do with it. In the meantime, I do, kinda, want to post things going on with me and hear what people have to say about it, so we'll

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-9274335023330168172011-03-22T22:17:00.000-04:002011-03-22T22:17:10.257-04:00

Normally I wouldn’t post a video on my blog, never mind one with the content that the one below does, but I thought that it was really well done and figured I’d bring a laugh or two to, what has lately been, a very frustrated sounding blog. I listen to MOJO in the Morning occasionally and some of the phone scams they do are really hilarious or really nasty. One of them was just downright insane

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-17588808632943249992011-03-18T15:16:00.000-04:002011-03-18T15:16:24.543-04:00

Alas, the troubles never end with just one or two stories, more are on the way. I'm not going to endlessly prattle on about the co-worker who makes it impossible for me to get my work done because of her garrulous nature.... but I easily could. Meh, why not? Actually, never mind. No, the reason that I'm writing this post is because of what happened the other day at a bank I had to go to because

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-77870789332554098142011-03-10T00:26:00.000-05:002011-03-10T00:26:36.924-05:00

When I first started this blog, I was absolutely adamant and asseverated to all those who would listen that I wouldn't talk about dating. I stand by that, but this post might tread dangerously close to the line of what I consider to fall into the realm of the category of dating. Over the past 3 days, I've said Mazal Tov 5 times for 5 different simchos (as opposed to 5 times for the same simcha

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-28625831507304937832011-03-08T23:31:00.001-05:002011-03-08T23:34:34.063-05:00

I'm beginning to think it's hopeless. I had one girl for a "friend" whom I parted ways with recently. Since then, out of nowhere, one girl tried slipping her way into my life via a free apartment and another somehow got a hold of my other number (Google number) and texted me out of the blue. Now, the first one I can understand- I did post my number online after all because I was looking for an

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-18433814800220518522011-03-07T22:04:00.001-05:002011-03-07T22:07:27.186-05:00

In the news over the past few days there have been 4 reports that I've heard of concerning anti-Semitism. They are: Christian Dior's firing of one of their most famous designers, John Galliano, for remarks he made about Jews (ironically to people who weren't Jewish), Louis Farrakhan's anti-Zionist comments, a Sony apology for a popular boy-band group that wore Nazi-like outfits for a Japanese MTV

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-91160647018500699352011-02-28T23:55:00.000-05:002011-02-28T23:55:07.145-05:00

As I wrote in a blog post (which will be deleted one of these days), a girl called me with an offer to move into an apartment and not pay rent. However, because she was looking for friendship, I turned down her very generous offer. I don't regret my decision in the slightest, but I do, kind of, regret having been so nice to her on the phone. I can say with a lot of confidence that I didn't flirt

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-59396162407580660022011-02-23T00:40:00.002-05:002011-02-23T14:47:44.774-05:00

This is a first for me. I want a resume. I feel like I need a resume. In the past, I was willing to trust my instincts and give it a go. If I didn't like it, I could always say "I'm sorry, but it's not working out." This time, I don't think it'll be that simple. Once I say yes, I'm basically stuck. Not quite for life- there are always ways out- but those are awkward and not usually very pretty.

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-64532841264687565742010-04-24T23:00:00.002-04:002010-04-26T04:18:45.673-04:00

Someone shared a quote with me and I wrote a whole essay in response. Writing posts from scratch at this point is not going to be a common occurrence so I’m going to regurgitate previous things I’ve written and post them (after I’ve done some editing hopefully). It’s fascinating to go back to stuff that I’ve written in the past and see how well, or poorly, I wrote them. And of course, I’d love to

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-29980088048167340772010-04-23T09:00:00.000-04:002010-04-23T09:00:08.370-04:00

I love analyzing people. It’s something that I do whenever I can. If I’m on the train and not doing college work, learning, or on the phone, I’m analyzing people. At Shabbos meals, when I’m not talking or staring rapaciously at the food on the table, I’m analyzing people. On the phone, looking at pictures and at work are just a few more of the countless places that I find myself glancing at the

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-48989757281506207952010-04-07T08:00:00.000-04:002010-04-07T08:00:04.149-04:00

I’m sitting with my grandmother wondering what to write about. I’m asking her what to write about...“Write about peeling potatoes,” she says. “Ok,” I reply. So, here goes, I’m going to write about peeling potatoes. My mother asked me this morning to peel potatoes. I was given 2 huge bags to peel and told to stop when I got tired of it. My mom gave me an electric peeler which was half broken and

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-24979923070169732312010-03-29T12:17:00.003-04:002010-03-29T15:50:22.732-04:00

I’m taking a course this semester that, to put it lightly, is weird. That was my initial reaction anyway. I’m not even sure how to define the class besides that it entails art and therapy. Even that doesn’t do it justice. I missed the first class so I had some catch-up work to do and missed how the professor defined “creative.” I’m telling you, it is unlike any definition of creative you will

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-47645516634811216742009-09-21T05:12:00.004-04:002009-09-21T05:15:12.610-04:00

Wow, now I feel like a blogger lol. I've been tagged to do a meme!Here are the rules:Rule number 1: Read the rules.Rule number 2: Write one superpower you would like to have and what you would do with it. Rule number 3: Write why you chose that super power over everything else.Rule number 4: Tag and link 7 people, and write why you think they will have an interesting meme.Rule number 5: fix your

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-42296724323886498972009-08-23T18:44:00.004-04:002009-08-23T18:48:46.072-04:00

Okay, random post title, but I'll explain. I was reading the lyrics of a song, and was curious to know what the meaning of the song was. I had an idea what it was, but I wanted to make sure. As I was perusing the comments I happened across one that really bothered me. One of the commenter's on the site that I happened upon said that a father should never let his son see him sweat. (If you want it

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-18028307050694069152009-08-18T09:00:00.001-04:002009-08-18T09:00:04.107-04:00

Reading a comment on the first post concerning swearing I remembered something else that bothered me related to swearing. Many people swear, statistically speaking it’s probably (Probably. I haven’t looked into it. I’d call it an uneducated, street-smart guess.) one of the most common bad habits (yes, I have no compunction calling it a bad habit), shared throughout the world. It’s no secret that

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-20367526552229210202009-08-08T22:58:00.003-04:002009-08-08T23:04:15.648-04:00

For more than 160 years women have been fighting for their rights. The right for women to vote was first granted in Wyoming in 1869, and over the next 50 years many states followed in their stead. Other rights came later, with the second wave of activism which began in the 1960s. I’m not going to go into all of the rights which were granted, but many of them are well known. Joining the military,

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-13606919875347922872009-07-02T06:33:00.008-04:002009-07-07T02:20:15.634-04:00

Over the past couple of days I've come across the topic of Amish people quite a bit. It started with a book that I read by Jodi Picoult (an author that two friends recommended I read), and just recently in a comment on a blog that I follow. Both Amish encounters that I had revolved around children and, to some extent, their naivete. It was enlightening to read the book Plain Truth, and learn in a

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-77741592419953612772009-06-09T05:45:00.004-04:002009-06-09T06:28:41.827-04:00

I was bored this morning so I decided to write a blog post. What else would a normal person do at a quarter to 6 in the morning when they’re bored?  The topic of the day, if not obvious from the title, is about words. It might always have been this way, but that simply means our educational system hasn’t progressed as much as we probably would’ve like it to. I’m talking about the slang that is

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-85162518339719568192009-06-02T03:37:00.011-04:002009-06-02T09:01:48.160-04:00

This post is falling into the pattern of one post leading to the next, and that's not exactly how I wanted it, but for now, I'm just happy to be writing again.  Apparently, people seem to have a hard time fully comprehending my writing because I'm constantly clarifying the point I'm trying to make. Well, for those of you who were expecting a dissertation on the finer points of graphology,

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-52230715615452103322009-05-18T05:00:00.001-04:002009-05-18T05:02:48.364-04:00

The message of an offhand remark can be amazing. Many, if not all, of you already know that, but I was the recipient of one of those messages today. The comment stunned me into silence to the point that I barely managed to stutter 'I'll talk to you later' before I walked away still shaking my head at the profundity of what my friend had said. We hadn't seen each other in a few weeks so we were

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-29001111964750769432009-04-24T02:45:00.000-04:002009-04-24T02:45:42.166-04:00

On the last post I wrote, someone commented anonymously and wasn't very polite. From the writing style, for some reason, I guessed that it was a girl. I have no idea if I'm right, and will probably never find out. (But for ease of writing purposes I will henceforth refer to as my anonymous commenter as being female.) It wasn't the content of what was written that bothered me; I don't think I get

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-72909701018734201742009-04-08T01:39:00.004-04:002009-04-08T05:10:54.459-04:00

So many disclaimers for this one. Firstly, for those of you who haven't been around me for the past year and a half or so, and have only been in touch with me over the phone, text, or on here, this post may come as a bit of a surprise. Secondly, for those of you who don't know that I stay up crazy late thinking about random stuff, the time that I'm writing this post may come as a surprise. And

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-70308916715914294532009-04-06T23:14:00.003-04:002009-04-08T05:11:39.785-04:00

Along with more than 18 million other viewers I saw this video.  For those of you who are too lazy to watch the video, I’ll give you the lowdown. A kid named David goes to the dentist. At the dentist he’s given medication (presumably as an anesthetic), and at the time this video was taken, David and his dad were driving home.  Throughout the portion of the ride that we see, David’s dad questions

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-60261986582081515772009-03-22T08:32:00.003-04:002009-03-24T20:18:42.566-04:00

I consider myself a bit of intellectual and think that I'm not the only one who believes that about me. So it will come as no surprise when I say I actually enjoy (ergh... enjoy'ed') college. Now I know, those people who are in 'real' college will say, that is to say not online college, going to the college that I go to is a blast because it's so easy. However, that's simply not true. Not that

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6468805233075366688.post-14850096274358057232009-03-20T10:59:00.001-04:002009-08-18T07:19:37.430-04:00

Although this is my first blog, I'm going to go straight to the topic that I've chosen to write about. Last night, I went to a comedy show, which was at a college that I plan on attending, and has a crowd that I'm friendly and familiar with. During the five minute intermission, my friend and I walked outside to get some fresh air. Outside, we met some of the other attendees and started talking

%Shocked%http://www.blogger.com/profile/08017279590797608442noreply@blogger.com14