One would hope that I add something to the world- be it good, bad, or indifferent- Me
Whenever I go on my blog, it seems that my header is messed up... is it just me?
Also, I'm illegitimately using this post to move some of the starting points for my labels around. I just didn't like where some of them started people...
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Showing posts with label community. Show all posts
Showing posts with label community. Show all posts
Monday, December 3, 2007
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Other funny women make me laugh... A LOT
It seems that I've been doing fairly well with my blogging everyday (every WEEK day) ambition. I have been posting more on other's blogs, getting my name (and my terrible pictures of Ratatouille) out there. Now that I've done all this work... I'm about to abandon my blog for almost a WHOLE MONTH.
So... I want some guest Bloggers. I haven't quite figured out how to work this out. I thought about making posts, with day titles and the guest bloggers name, and they would come and write a LONG comment.... but that seems a little strange.
I guess there is a way to give people writing privileges. I have to admit that scares me a little. Who knows what could happen. That's a lot of trust. I could come back to find my blog blue, and covered with chickens. Anything is possible.
So- anyone out there in blogger land willing to be a guest blogger. All I ask is that you commit to writing at least one day... if you want more, maybe we can work it out. I just REALLY want there to be SOMETHING for the weekdays when I'm gone.
So...caitlin, alison, james, david, hallie, scribbit, mike... anyone willing to write here???
So... I want some guest Bloggers. I haven't quite figured out how to work this out. I thought about making posts, with day titles and the guest bloggers name, and they would come and write a LONG comment.... but that seems a little strange.
I guess there is a way to give people writing privileges. I have to admit that scares me a little. Who knows what could happen. That's a lot of trust. I could come back to find my blog blue, and covered with chickens. Anything is possible.
So- anyone out there in blogger land willing to be a guest blogger. All I ask is that you commit to writing at least one day... if you want more, maybe we can work it out. I just REALLY want there to be SOMETHING for the weekdays when I'm gone.
So...caitlin, alison, james, david, hallie, scribbit, mike... anyone willing to write here???
Friday, July 13, 2007
Taking the leap
The "Write-Away" contest for July is about Adventure. So....here goes...
My sophomore year of High School I was preparing to take my first trip abroad without my parents. By this point in time I had been to several different countries, and had a fair amount of experience in traveling. None-the-less I was not only excited, but nervous about this trip. It took place over Easter weekend, and by some fluke of the lunar calendar I was going to miss my favorite holiday at my parents house: Passover.
I was going on this trip to see Theatre in London. All the girls with me were Christians, and, though there had been some discussion, no one had been planning on attending any type of religious services. So, before I went, I told myself that it would be okay to miss services, to miss the holiday and that I would be fine. Oh how wrong I was...
For those of you unfamiliar with Passover, the holiday is one based around a large festive meal at home, surrounded by loved ones and friends. The basis of the holiday is the exodus from Egypt and the story of Moses. Each Jew is supposed to 're-tell' the story every year, to adhere to the concept that each of us was set free from Egypt. It happens to be my favorite holiday- mostly because asking questions, staying up late and discussing things are what this holiday is all about. It takes place on two nights, only one in Israel, but two everywhere else.
The first night of Passover, as I sat in the audience for Blood Brothers, I couldn't help but be distracted. I'm not even sure that I knew it was passover, but somehow I just knew. I couldn't concentrate on the show and when it ended was unable to participate in any of the discussion. I thought I was getting sick. As I start walking back with the group we pass through this residential community. We're walking along, and all of a sudden the front door right in front of me opens. There's laughter and I stand, waiting, watching for someone to leave. I hear the distant sounds of a prayer...they are inviting Elijah into their home. I stand there for so long, just listening, tears forming in my eyes. The group has passed me, and for a brief moment I am standing alone on the street.
A little girl, no older than 7 comes to the front door, looking, waiting, and lays her eyes on me. She smiles at me; I at her. Her father comes to the door to call her back in and follows her eyes to where they have landed on me. He sees me, and we have a brief moment together. My group comes back around the corner to find me. As I hurry to join them, I stop at the door, meet his eyes and wish him a happy Pesach. He smiles, comes down the stairs and greets me with a hug.
Needless to say my friends start running, afraid that this man is going to abduct me or something. They get to us, and me and this man, Joe, start to laugh. I try to explain the situation, what has happened and why it has made me feel so connected to the world, but nothing works. He invites me into his home for the rest of the meal, and encourages me to come back tomorrow night. Though I am tempted, the chaperone's on my trip decide that it isn't such a good idea.
Though I only had a brief moment and a hug- I will never forget the feelings in my heart. The gratitude I felt at his generosity, and the way that G-d works throughout the world. I only hope that next year in Jerusalem I find him and his family.
http://scribbit.blogspot.com/2007/07/julys-write-away-contest.html
My sophomore year of High School I was preparing to take my first trip abroad without my parents. By this point in time I had been to several different countries, and had a fair amount of experience in traveling. None-the-less I was not only excited, but nervous about this trip. It took place over Easter weekend, and by some fluke of the lunar calendar I was going to miss my favorite holiday at my parents house: Passover.
I was going on this trip to see Theatre in London. All the girls with me were Christians, and, though there had been some discussion, no one had been planning on attending any type of religious services. So, before I went, I told myself that it would be okay to miss services, to miss the holiday and that I would be fine. Oh how wrong I was...
For those of you unfamiliar with Passover, the holiday is one based around a large festive meal at home, surrounded by loved ones and friends. The basis of the holiday is the exodus from Egypt and the story of Moses. Each Jew is supposed to 're-tell' the story every year, to adhere to the concept that each of us was set free from Egypt. It happens to be my favorite holiday- mostly because asking questions, staying up late and discussing things are what this holiday is all about. It takes place on two nights, only one in Israel, but two everywhere else.
The first night of Passover, as I sat in the audience for Blood Brothers, I couldn't help but be distracted. I'm not even sure that I knew it was passover, but somehow I just knew. I couldn't concentrate on the show and when it ended was unable to participate in any of the discussion. I thought I was getting sick. As I start walking back with the group we pass through this residential community. We're walking along, and all of a sudden the front door right in front of me opens. There's laughter and I stand, waiting, watching for someone to leave. I hear the distant sounds of a prayer...they are inviting Elijah into their home. I stand there for so long, just listening, tears forming in my eyes. The group has passed me, and for a brief moment I am standing alone on the street.
A little girl, no older than 7 comes to the front door, looking, waiting, and lays her eyes on me. She smiles at me; I at her. Her father comes to the door to call her back in and follows her eyes to where they have landed on me. He sees me, and we have a brief moment together. My group comes back around the corner to find me. As I hurry to join them, I stop at the door, meet his eyes and wish him a happy Pesach. He smiles, comes down the stairs and greets me with a hug.
Needless to say my friends start running, afraid that this man is going to abduct me or something. They get to us, and me and this man, Joe, start to laugh. I try to explain the situation, what has happened and why it has made me feel so connected to the world, but nothing works. He invites me into his home for the rest of the meal, and encourages me to come back tomorrow night. Though I am tempted, the chaperone's on my trip decide that it isn't such a good idea.
Though I only had a brief moment and a hug- I will never forget the feelings in my heart. The gratitude I felt at his generosity, and the way that G-d works throughout the world. I only hope that next year in Jerusalem I find him and his family.
http://scribbit.blogspot.com/2007/07/julys-write-away-contest.html
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Creating a blogging community: Traditions
So...I have decided to try to become part of the blogging community. As such, I am entering the 'Write-Away' Contest found here: http://scribbit.blogspot.com/2007/06/write-away-contest-for-june.html
I'm new to all this sexy posting, but I'm trying:
Traditions: I'm not a mom, I don't have a permanent place to live, a family or even only one address (yes, I still have a large portion of my mail going to my parents house). How then can I have any traditions? Well, suprisingly enough, I think that I do. Traditions are just another word for things you do often that have special meaning- things you do because they make you feel good, they make you think, they add something to your life.
I'm not a good cook, so it's suprised me that one of my true traditions has been cupcake baking. I guess many consider baking and cooking as seperate beasts, but to me, they are one in the same. Each month (usually related to the holiday or 'feeling' of the month) I bake a ridiculous amount of cupcakes. I've been doing really well. About 40 cupcakes per batch, and I bring them all over the world. The homeless guys on the street, my soccer team, my office, my roommates (old and new). I'm pleased with this tradition...how can a tradition with sugar be a bad thing?
I've tried to capitalize on other family traditions- every Passover I think very specifically about my parents; their love for me, and hopes for my future. Coming together for Jewish holidays is a tradition I not only love, but deperately want to embrace. So far, no luck on convincing the family to come out to LA for a Holiday at my house- but having my friends over and imitating the concept (albeit with more wine) has been pretty successful.
I am amazed at how many traditions my parents have impressed upon me. The fact that every year we not only have, but actually attend the 'family reunion' when me and my sister are the only people under the age of thirty? The fact that under no circumstances would it be acceptable for a member of my family to miss a holiday. I LOVE knowing that out of my extended family- my whole nucleus (sister, mom, dad and me) will DEFINITELY be there. That we will not only be there, but be spirited, happy and excited about whatever family event is close at hand.
It also occurs to me in this very strange and rambling post how many things I do that have become traditions. I have spent the last 5 years with Matthew's (my ex-boyfriend) family for July4th. What about this year? Making that change to not being with him, to not celebrating those moments with him? I remember the first time he brought me...the feeling of specialness I got from his not only inviting me, but showing me off. Is it wrong that though we are broken up I still want to cling to that tradition? That I miss making eggs at 2am with my ex-roommate, and our weekly 11pm tea on Thursday night?
Here's to being 22, living on your own, and starting your own traditions! The little things that make this insane and unknowable world a little better- a little less tragic. To traditions that may not be long tested, but have certainly started to spread a little joy, happiness and love in multiple directions!
I'm new to all this sexy posting, but I'm trying:
Traditions: I'm not a mom, I don't have a permanent place to live, a family or even only one address (yes, I still have a large portion of my mail going to my parents house). How then can I have any traditions? Well, suprisingly enough, I think that I do. Traditions are just another word for things you do often that have special meaning- things you do because they make you feel good, they make you think, they add something to your life.
I'm not a good cook, so it's suprised me that one of my true traditions has been cupcake baking. I guess many consider baking and cooking as seperate beasts, but to me, they are one in the same. Each month (usually related to the holiday or 'feeling' of the month) I bake a ridiculous amount of cupcakes. I've been doing really well. About 40 cupcakes per batch, and I bring them all over the world. The homeless guys on the street, my soccer team, my office, my roommates (old and new). I'm pleased with this tradition...how can a tradition with sugar be a bad thing?
I've tried to capitalize on other family traditions- every Passover I think very specifically about my parents; their love for me, and hopes for my future. Coming together for Jewish holidays is a tradition I not only love, but deperately want to embrace. So far, no luck on convincing the family to come out to LA for a Holiday at my house- but having my friends over and imitating the concept (albeit with more wine) has been pretty successful.
I am amazed at how many traditions my parents have impressed upon me. The fact that every year we not only have, but actually attend the 'family reunion' when me and my sister are the only people under the age of thirty? The fact that under no circumstances would it be acceptable for a member of my family to miss a holiday. I LOVE knowing that out of my extended family- my whole nucleus (sister, mom, dad and me) will DEFINITELY be there. That we will not only be there, but be spirited, happy and excited about whatever family event is close at hand.
It also occurs to me in this very strange and rambling post how many things I do that have become traditions. I have spent the last 5 years with Matthew's (my ex-boyfriend) family for July4th. What about this year? Making that change to not being with him, to not celebrating those moments with him? I remember the first time he brought me...the feeling of specialness I got from his not only inviting me, but showing me off. Is it wrong that though we are broken up I still want to cling to that tradition? That I miss making eggs at 2am with my ex-roommate, and our weekly 11pm tea on Thursday night?
Here's to being 22, living on your own, and starting your own traditions! The little things that make this insane and unknowable world a little better- a little less tragic. To traditions that may not be long tested, but have certainly started to spread a little joy, happiness and love in multiple directions!
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