deliciously.org

August 11, 2007

Getting to know you...

It seems that that whole 5 questions interview thing is going around again, and I'm a sucker for not having to think about what to talk about, so I'm doing it. In fact, I requested questions from two people, and if you request questions from me and then do it yourself, I'll probably ask for some in return.

Here's how it goes:
1. Leave me a comment and I respond by asking you five personal questions so I can get to know you better.
2. Update your website or blog or LJ or whatever with the answers to the questions.
3. Include this explanation and when others comment asking to be asked, you in turn ask them five questions.

**REMINDER: This isn't LJ--if you comment asking for questions, you won't get an email in response when I answer you, you'll have to remember to check back here.

And here are Amanda's questions for me:

1) When an artifact from your childhood (like a certain type of toy, or a television or book series) enjoys a resurgence in popularity, does it make you feel happy and nostalgic or angry and nostalgic? Why?
2) Are you still pursuing rabbinical school? If so, how is that coming along? If not, why did you decide to put that goal on the backburner?
3) I just read on your deliciously.org 'blog that you are a Harry Potter fan. What is your opinion of the last book? What, if anything, would you have changed about the outcome?
4) If you had to change your name, what alternate name would you select? Do you feel intimately connected to your name?
5) What cancelled television program do you wish could be revived (or, if you'd rather, would have lasted longer in the first place)?

Answers after the cut, and yes, obviously, #3 will have spoilers for Harry Potter. Answers to Carly's questions coming in a post soon.

This may make me a horrible person, but I usually feel angry. It's the same feeling I get when someone tells me that they're a fan of Rent but I find out they've never seen the play or they didn't see it for the first time until years after I did. I don't really do anything with Rent anymore, but did they sleep out on the sidewalk every Tuesday for an entire summer to see the show? No, I don't think so. Bite me. Anyway, my point is, I get very possessive. I end up feeling like the kids who get to enjoy it now Just Don't Get what it really is all about. Plus, all too often, it's altered to be rereleased, which I just can't stand.

2) Are you still pursuing rabbinical school? If so, how is that coming along? If not, why did you decide to put that goal on the backburner?

Carly asked me this too, so I know it must be glaringly obvious that I haven't talked about it in awhile. There are basically two answers to this question. The first answer is that I'm not pursuing anything except breathing right now. I am currently deep in the trenches of figuring out if I can ever work, if I can ever be a parent, if I can ever be anything other than a resource draining lump. And if I sound depressed there, it's because I am. I'm really pretty unhappy about where I'm at on this whole journey and issue but basically... I have no plans or lack of plans.

The second answer is... IF I got to a place where I feel like I can work and I do decide to pursue a career path... The rabbinate is still really really appealing to me. I feel like the actual schooling is a terrific fit for me. I also feel like I really don't want to live in Philly for six years, and having lived somewhere I was miserable last year and now being back here, I'm not sure I'd give up six years living somewhere else for anything. I might. I really don't know. But that leads me to the last issue... I had forgotten, while I was in Oberlin, just HOW much I hate the Jewish community in the Twin Cities. Being back here, Judaism has been much less a part of my life, even internally. I don't like the community or the synagogues or the people I'd be working with. And if I want to live here long term (which... I think we do), there's really no point in being a rabbi because I would never want to work in this community. Right now for me, Judaism is really... whatever the opposite of salient is.

So in sum? I have no idea. It's not off the list of possibilities, it's still the thing I would most like to do. But it's not likely.

3) I just read on your deliciously.org 'blog that you are a Harry Potter fan. What is your opinion of the last book? What, if anything, would you have changed about the outcome?

Wifey, if you're reading this, just skip to the next question. Basically I feel like JK Rowling set herself up for failure. There's no way she could have pleased me. I feel like Harry should have died. However, if he had, I'd have been pissed as hell. I do feel, though, that at the very least he should have been the one to deliver the curse that killed Voldemort, but what can ya do? I feel like the pacing of the book was really bad. I missed that heart attack-y feeling from book six. I thought the ENTIRE plot about the Hallows was unnecessary and served absolutely zero purpose. I hated the exposition scene with Dumbledore in "King's Cross" and I didn't really care for the Snape/Lily chapter. I loved Ron and Hermione and seeing some growth in them. I love love love love Neville, and almost as much, I love Luna. I loved Kreacher. I loved HOW Ron and Hermione finally got together. I wanted a lot more Snape. I never liked him, in any book, but I wanted more. I was really underwhelmed, and I don't even like action books. That said? I don't think she could have written anything that I would have liked and I don't think any outcome would have satisfied me (although it's very hard to believe it was a truly horrific war with so few deaths). I wouldn't mind nixing that terrible epilogue. And I just have to say, best part of the WHOLE book was Molly coming at Bellatrix and calling her a bitch. It's really sad, though, when the death I was most upset about was Dobby's, when I hated him so much all along.

4) If you had to change your name, what alternate name would you select? Do you feel intimately connected to your name?

I do feel intimately connected to my name. There are times as a kid where I wished I had the last name Rozenberg (my mom's maiden name) instead of Feldman, and I collect long lists of names that I love, but I've never wished I had an actual different name. I used to want something more unique, but I couldn't tell you what, because to me, I am Rebecca. However, I was almost named Rivkah Michal (reev-kah mee-chal, ch being that hard h sound), which is my Hebrew name, and I would be content with that as my name too. That's not really a change, though, is it? There are names I love, but none of them are ME.

5) What cancelled television program do you wish could be revived (or, if you'd rather, would have lasted longer in the first place)?

There are two-- My So-Called Life and Popular. MSCL had so much to offer and I think it was going to go places that teen shows at the time hadn't gone (and maybe still haven't?). It deserved a longer life. I think it could have made a real impact, bigger than it did. Popular was just hilarious and clever and entertaining and I would love to see more.

Posted to Books & Hardly Working & Jew-mania & Mental Health & Mindless Entertainment & Miscellaneous & Nostalgia at 12:27 PM | Comments (3)

September 24, 2006

L'Shanah Tovah.... I guess.

Last year I wrote quite a bit about the high holidays (that's 3 seperate links, by the way). I did a lot of reflecting about my Jewish high holiday experiences and the way they were meaningful to me. And now I'm going to do the same about yesterday's services.

I'm really sad to say that I was very disappointed. Rereading last year's entry about attending the shul in Cleveland (middle link) only makes me more disappointed. The service was very unfulfilling, and the more I sit with that feeling, the more disappointed I become.

The rabbi was not the rabbi for me, and that was the biggest issue. What I'm looking for in a spiritual leader is someone who eminates passion for Judaism from his or her pores, someone whose every breath seems dedicated to loving Judaism. There can, and should, be more to them as people, but during services, I want to look at them and think, "Wow, that person was really meant to be a rabbi." I'm feeling a little badly writing this here, but I just didn't get that from the rabbi yesterday. It could be because she's so freshly out of rabbinical school, or it could be because she only spends 1/4 of her time with this congregation (she has another rabbinical job in Wisconsin and usually visits here only once a month) so they don't all click so well together, or it could have just been a bad fit with me. But I found her d'var Torah worse than uninspiring, I found her manner of presentation frustrating, and I didn't see any excitement in her eyes. I need that from a rabbi.

Ther service itself was also just not very moving. I love the three congregants who led the service (yes, three congregants led it even though the rabbi was there) and they certainly have the excitement I was looking for, but there were still two problems. One was that they were only three people, and they were three of the ONLY people who were very alive. The other is that they aren't rabbis, they haven't been trained in getting people pumped. They seemed, at some points, to be leading a service for themselves. Now, I don't believe they really were. The Reconstructionst movement is all about community and there would be zero reason for someone committed to this movement and its tenets to even want the service done "their way" over including others, but it had that feeling at moments. Perhaps because no one else getting into it. I don't know. But it didn't always work for me.

And then there was the sales pitch in the middle of services. Tasteless. I completely completely understand why they needed to do it. This is a place that had 12 attendees when I went to Shabbat services there. There were around 75 people plus another 10 or so kids yesterday and they were a captive audience. They need members to exist. I get it, in my rational mind. But it was such a turn-off.

And the final problem... These are Minnesota Jews. They may be Reconstructionist, they may be 100 times better than the Reform and Conservative Jews around here, but they were still Minnesota Jews. If you've experienced and grown up in the Minnesota Jewish community, you know what I mean, and if you didn't, there's no way you ever could. That's all I'll say about that.

Even the Amidah didn't do it for me. I felt rushed, there was no inclusive prayer/meditation language, and... it just didn't feel like my Amidah.

We didn't go back to services today. We decided it would be too, in Lauren's words, "lather, rinse, repeat." I didn't want a second day of feeling this way. We'll go back for Kol Nidre and Yom Kippur even though the rabbi will be there, but after that, we're going to make an effort to attend specifically when she's not there. If that's possible. That's sort of a sad feeling, especially since we're officially members of this shul. It's still the best choice for us in the Twin Cities, and I'd still like to be part of the work to build the congregation up so that it can be improved. I'm committed to this shul and my Jewish experience there, and hopeful that I will find meaning there.

But today, instead of going to services again, we're going with my mom to have lunch at my Baubie and Zaide's (it's brisket! that counts as Rosh Hashanah observance all on its own!) and I'll spend some time in my head getting what I want to get out of this day.

And next weekend, I'll go to Yom Kippur services ready to exist in my own head if necessary to get what I need out of them, too.

I hope.

Posted to Jew-mania at 10:32 AM | Comments (0)

September 01, 2006

a reminder

Today is the 8th of Elul. Despite growing up in the Conservative movement (even in a less observant family), I don't recall ever having heard anything about Elul or even Selichot. I must have, but I don't remember it at all. The idea of spending Elul in preparation for Yom Kippur is fairly new to me, but this year I'm trying to take that to heart.

I honestly don't know what it is I'm "supposed to" be doing for Elul, but I'm working very hard to spend a lot of time thinking. Not mulling, not brooding, not moping, but thinking. What do I want for the coming year? What changes do I want to make right now and what changes can I put on the back burner? What are my priorities? What MUST happen for me to be a newer, better person a year from now? I'm forcing myself not to have answers yet, to just think.

And yes, this from the girl who believes New Year's is arbitrary. So I'm finding some comfort in the Jewish rituals surrounding one specific date and making "resolutions". Sue me.

I am also willing to admit that I'm not quite ready to ask forgiveness right now. I'm not at a place where I believe that I deserve it, from anyone. I'm not even at a place where I can bring myself to think about which things I may have done or not done that would require forgiveness. But I AM ready to offer forgiveness, to let go of some grudges that I've been holding silently. And for me, that's a really good start.

Besides, I have another month until Yom Kippur. Elul has just begun.

Posted to Jew-mania at 01:59 PM | Comments (0)

July 21, 2006

A heavy entry for a Friday

This Sunday is visitors' day at Herzl Camp. I want to go. Badly. But I don't think I am.

It's hard to explain Herzl to someone who has never been there. It's even hard to explain my relationship with Herzl to someone who felt differently about it. Every summer, I was miserable. Of all the places in my life where I felt left out, lonely, and misunderstood, Herzl was the worst. Even the summers when I had great friends there, I was lonely and depressed. I begged my counselors to let me call home, I had anxiety attacks (even though I didn't know at the time that that's what they were) over certain activities, and I created the best excuses and found the best places to hide.

Every year, I swore I would never go back. And every year, I would wait anxiously for the sign-up forms to arrive in the mail and insist that we turn them in immediately to assure my place at camp. When I got to be too old to be a camper, I felt like I was losing part of my identity.

During my sophomore of college, I decided that I had too many regrets about things that shouldn't have been such a big deal. I started on my very cornily titled "journey to yes" that involved doing my winter term project at my old middle school and working on the BESY play. I left those experiences feeling much better about those places and really embraced the idea that if I could create a positive experience, I could wipe out the negative emotions--if not the memories--associated with those times in my life.

So I applied to work at Herzl. No one I went to camp with, not one single person, understood why I was doing it. I couldn't explain it. I just had to. And it started out really well. I learned that some people who I really hadn't liked as a kid turned out to be decent human beings. I discovered that I was capable of being friendly with a group of my peers who I had previously seen as the enemy. I met some absolutely amazing kids, a few of whom I'm still in touch with now.

But this was before I knew that I had AS and before I knew what to do to get through a rough day, and it didn't take long for me to start having anxiety attacks every few hours. I had to leave camp without completing the summer. In some ways, that summer was a success. In others, it was worse than if I had never gone. I guess that fits the pattern...

I haven't admitted to myself until very recently how much that experience affected me. I feel like I'm up against a brick wall, trying to walk forward but completely stuck by the idea that I still couldn't make it, even as a 20 year old. I feel like a pretty big failure. I wish I could go back and work there again, but without Lauren by my side, it's not going to happen, and I really am too old now.

Still, I have a lot of love for Herzl. It was a really big part of my life, even though I figure I've only spent a total of about 140 of the over 9300 days that I've been alive there. I truly love what Herzl is--a place for Jewish kids to live in a Jewish space and see Judaism on a daily basis as a regular part of their lives, where they can be away from most adults, take ownership of themselves and their identities, and have adventures. True, it's also a place where social norms are distorted, uncool kids never have a chance to feel good about themselves, and there are unwritten rules about being peppy and energetic that are oppressive to kids who just don't feel that way--but it made me who I am. It's had a huge influence on what I want to do with my life, both in terms of being a parent and in terms of a career.

And I want to go to visitors' day. I took Lauren to see the camp last year in May. There were about 10 people there, mostly young kids and their parents. I showed her around. I took her to every significant place and showed her every plaque I worked on. I sat on the mercaz and felt empty and I stood in the heavy dew and remembered. I have no good reason to go back now, but I can't let go. This time, if we go, there will be hundreds of people there celebrating Herzl's 60th anniversary. Several of my old campers as well as my future step-cousin will be there. It will still be hard and painful, but it'll be more real to camp.

But I can't go by myself. I need a friend to come with me and Lauren, who doesn't know camp herself. I can't face it alone. And no one wants to go.

Posted to Jew-mania & Mental Health & Nostalgia at 01:52 PM | Comments (2)

April 12, 2006

PMS + family holidays = moody melodrama

I love Pesach. It's my favorite Jewish holiday. I like the food (no, not for all 8 days, but for the first few, it's great). I like that there is some meat to the family gathering portion of the holiday. I have always enjoyed the seders, even the ones that go until 1 in the morning.

But the last few years, I've really dreaded them. My family's seders last a half hour, don't cover any of the more meaningful aspects of the event, and are kind of... going-through-the-motions-(in-English)-like.

I just can't figure out why I should bother doing something that's fairly meaningless.

Anyway, this year has been especially hard for me. As I mentioned before, I'm not in the best mood these days anyway. On top of that, I've now had a taste of Reconstructionism. We even own the Recon haggadah, which is absolutely amazing. All night tonight, I found myself wishing we had a Recon seder to attend.

I don't really know what my point is. Judaism has become so important to me recently, and I just hate for Pesach to become a thorn in my side. I understand that it's partly about being with family and doing things OUR way, but I just wish that I had a 2nd seder to look forward to that was done MY way.

At least I got to eat a lot of really good charoset.

Posted to Jew-mania at 08:19 PM | Comments (3)

March 07, 2006

25 IS old, I don't care what you say

It's funny how easy it is to forget that I'm aging. I've accepted that kids I babysat when they were FIVE are on facebook, but other than that, I'm not confronted on a daily basis with reminders that time is passing.

Today I got an email newsletter for my childhood summer camp. It was a lot of the same, "sign up and have a great time!" kind of stuff, but there was a section thrown in that is either new or that I've never noticed before. It was a list of engagements, marriages, and new children of former staff members. Out of the 32 people on that list, I personally know/knew 26 of them. Four of my former counselors were on that list, but most of them are people who were my age or a few years older.

The biggie for me was seeing that my very first OZO (junior counselor) from 1991 has a new baby girl. I guess that if she was 17 that summer, she would be 32 now, so it only makes sense that she could have a child, but it still blows me away. She's eternally 17 in my mind.

There were other notable things in this newsletter. They've added a low ropes course, which cracks me up. Ropes courses are for fancy camps, with air conditioning and swimming pools. Of course, the new dining hall DOES have a/c now, too... And there's also now a family week at the end of the summer. I still maintain that it would be great for a big group of us who used to go to rent a cabin and go to that, but no one but me is interested.

Still, no matter how weirded out I am by the changes to the camp and by seeing my peers grow up, every time I get a newsletter or see pictures from camp, I want to go back so badly that my bones ache. That place was torture, but it was a really wonderful kind of torture. As great as Camp JRF sounds, I can't help but hope that my kids end up going to Herzl. I can't help but hope that someday, I can work with them again.

Even if the kids I'm working with are my peers' children.

Posted to Jew-mania at 05:37 PM | Comments (0)

February 09, 2006

I'm so motivated... Can't you tell?

This is the third day in a row that I've thought it was Friday. Seriously.

Today was also my second day of Hebrew class. Our teacher from first semester moved to Florida at the end of December, so we have a new teacher. The two of them could not be more radically different teachers, and I'm SOOOOOOOO lost. In fact, I barely made it to class today because after one day, I was convinced I should become a Hebrew class dropout and forget my rabbinical school dreams.

Honestly, I think I learned much better the way that my first semester teacher taught, but I'm willing to admit that if she had stayed my teacher, it would probably take twice as long to cover the same information as it's going to take with the new teacher. HOWEVER... it's only useful to cover material faster if people understand it.

I think the chances of me completing this semester are about 80%. I have no good reason to stop going, and it's the only regular activity in my life right now, and it's FREE, but dammit... I just don't wanna. Of course, I'm going to be out of town for the midterm, and there's a strong likelihood that the Birthright trip I signed up for will be at the same time as our final, so we'll have to take the idea of "completing" the class with a grain of salt. It's lucky that I just roll out of bed and go to class, because if I had time to think about whether or not to go after I woke up, I probably would skip every other day.

And if anyone thinks I'm really going to show up for the weekly language table at 5 pm on Thursdays, they're going to be waiting a LONG time for me to arrive.

Posted to Jew-mania at 11:18 AM | Comments (5)

February 08, 2006

Is this what my brother feels like when he does something new?

This morning, I spent two and a half hours, from 9 am to 11:30 am, trying to register for Birthright Israel before I finally got the pages to load. I'm not sure why I had such bad luck this time around when last time, both Lauren and I were registered by 9:15 -- early enough that I had time to run to the bookstore to get my Hebrew book before my class started at 9:30.

Either way, I'm all signed up now. It's a sort of bizarre feeling. Lauren and I have been Lauren and I for a very long time now, and in that time, I haven't done a lot of major things on my own. I work well as part of a pair, and I feel safest when I'm with the people I love. Lauren makes me feel understood, which is important to me, and she likes to do things the same way I do, for the most part. We're good together. I do recognize that there are some benefits to not doing EVERYTHING together, but so far, together has worked very well for us.

So it's very strange to think that in three months, I could be headed off to a foreign country without her. I signed up for the May trip, figuring that it would be easier to go while we're still in Oberlin than over the summer if we're in the middle of moving. Plus, the less time I have to overthink what it means to be a traveler with Asperger's, the less likely I am to freak out and change my mind.

I still can't believe I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm a person with a passport and I can't believe that it's taken me almost 10 years since most of my friends went to Israel to feel ready to go. But I'm also really glad. I do feel ready (most of the time). Even if I'm going on the trip alone.

Posted to Jew-mania at 12:54 PM | Comments (1)

January 24, 2006

I haven't talked about RRC since November, when I went to visit, have I?

I've been thinking a lot this week about my future career plans. Lauren and I decided that she was going to do a job search in two places, Minneapolis, which is our home, and Philadelphia, home to RRC, and that if she didn't get something in one of those places, she'd stay here (if possible). Somewhere along the line, we got so homesick that we sort of... forgot about Philly. But this week, I've found myself wondering about our focus on MN. I mean, if we end up going home, will I ever want to leave to go to RRC?

I know that if it's important enough to me, we'll make it happen. But at the same time... We're talking about starting to have kids in the next couple of years, and we've been looking at the housing market to see how reasonable it is. If we bought a house and got pregnant in the next couple of years, would I really want to pick up and move to another state, where we don't know anyone, right in the middle of all that? It would be hard. And I'm not willing to put off the nesting-related plans we're making for anything.

I don't have any answers, except that we'll keep considering both Minneapolis and Philadelphia, but just for today (and we all know I change my mind about life every damn day), I'm kind of feeling like Philly might be the better choice...

Posted to Jew-mania at 11:44 AM | Comments (0)

November 08, 2005

maybe I'll say more later...

I'm home. I'm sick.

The insitute was very emotion-provoking for me, and I met some absolutely amazing people. I don't have the energy to say much more, but I'm so glad we went, even though I was put through the emotional ringer.

I feel better about myself and my path than I can ever remember feeling before.

Posted to Jew-mania at 02:16 PM | Comments (0)

October 31, 2005

I miss myself

In 36 hours I'll be on my way to Philadelphia. At the moment, I don't really want to go.

Fall break ended tonight and today all the residents of this building returned. I had already forgotten how disruptive the noise is here. I'm not a student anymore and this lifestyle doesn't work for me. The good news is that out of the 30 days in November, I'll be out of Ohio for at least 13 of them. Then I have a few weeks in December to get through and it's winter break and quiet, quiet January.

Tuesday morning I take my Hebrew midterm, which I have yet to study for, and then I immediately depart for PA. I'm scared as hell about this trip. We'll be staying with a stranger and on a timetable decided by the school. I'll have 5 days of being ON all the time, knowing that everything I do could have an impact on my future. And right now, I'm just not up for that. I'm tired, and my schedule is all out of whack, and I really want to spend the next week home alone, in silence. I loved having Lauren around so much this last week, but I feel competely thrown off.

I've also been questioning my plans to apply to RRC lately. If I really CAN'T work, is it a waste of our resources for me to do this? And after 3 years off of doing any work (because St. Thomas was NOT work, in the academic sense), can I refocus myself enough to work that hard for 6 more years?

Like Lauren says, finding that out is what this coming week will be all about, but I'm just so tired...

So tomorrow I'll dust and do dishes and tidy up a little and I'll study for my Hebrew exam. I'll pack for our trip to Philadelphia and maybe I'll call my mom. Tuesday I'll take my midterm and sit through a nerve-wracking seven-and-a-half-hour car ride and meet the stranger whose house we'll be invading for 5 days. And a week from now, I'll be home and about to start a week of regularity and I'll calm down and get my confidence back. And three weeks from now, I'll be on my way home for a week with my family (though without Lauren, unfortunately). And I can do that.

I can do this.

Posted to Jew-mania & Mental Health at 12:20 AM | Comments (0)

October 15, 2005

Catching up

1. Dar Williams' twin sat near us at services on Wednesday and Thursday. We did eventually find out her real name, but we'll keep caling her Dar Williams. She's very nice and sings like Dar, too.

2. We're going to join Kol HaLev, finances permitting.

3. Lauren's parent's will be here within the half hour, and then my mom is coming on Wednesday for 4 days. I miss my mommy!

Posted to Jew-mania & Miscellaneous at 12:47 PM | Comments (0)

October 12, 2005

A little non-concrete reflection...

Yom Kippur starts tonight, and I know this is kind of weird, but I'm excited for it. Even as a kid, I really liked it. There's something very satisfying about doing something other than just thinking and talking to show that you have remorse for your wrong-doings.

Maybe it's just the Lisa Simpson in me ("Grade me! Evaluate me!") but I enjoy Yom Kippur.

When I was little, my parents wouldn't let me fast, which was right of them. But in our house, even me and my brothers gave something up for Yom Kippur. Each year our parents had us choose something to give up for the day that we really liked; that meant that at least one of us gave up TV. Other common items were video games, books, and action figures.

My parents said that the reason for this was that even if our bodies weren't grown up enough to fast, it was important to show God that we were so sorry about the mistakes we had made that we would give up something important. That meant something to me as a kid, and I plan to do the same thing as a parent, even though I won't use the word "God", being that I don't believe in the traditional God figure.

I remember the first Yom Kippur after my Bat Mitzvah, when I was finally allowed to fast. It was the one and only thing about my new status as a Jewish adult that mattered to me. The truth is, it wasn't anything religious that spoke to me, but the idea of not eating for a 27 hours (or whatever it is) called out to my competitive nature. Not only that, but the challenge had been built up for the previous 13 years until I was convinced of its meaning.

I made it that year. I fasted longer than my mom, who almost always broke her fast when she prepared the Break Fast meal. I was very proud.

Since then, I've only fasted three or four times. Knowing that I COULD do it sort of took away the reason for doing it for me, especially as a teenager who was trying to make a break from Judaism. This year, I'm fasting again with a new purpose. To me, it will make a statement about my commitment to my path in life. It's also a tie to my community, to the millions of people all over the world throughout time who have fasted on this day to atone. I will think about how I can be a better Rebecca in the upcoming year, and although I don't believe in sins, exactly (it just sounds so Christian...), I will be meditative about my wrong-doings.

This is my chance to commit to making 5766 a great year in my life. If I "screw up" the chance, I can start over, of course, but I can also appreciate the symbolism of a fresh start at the right time of the year.

I'm looking forward to joining with my community and showing my commitment. I'm not the type to say, "Easy fast!" to anyone, but I will say that I hope that anyone who participates in this ritual this year gets out of it what they were looking for.

Posted to Jew-mania at 11:17 AM | Comments (1)

October 10, 2005

Jill and Precious Gray Eyes and The Stage, oh my!

Two items of great importance:

1. I have FINALLY recovered my wonderful Marc Dinkin tape. I'm listening to it right now and I'm very very VERY happy.

2. The rabbi at Kol HaLev (the synagogue we're going to right now) posted his D'var Torah from Tuesday, and as promised, I'm linking to it here. It's long, but worth a read, if you like this kind of thing.

Posted to Jew-mania at 12:05 PM | Comments (0)

October 06, 2005

Rosh-Hashanah Recap

Note: I've been using a lot of Jewish terms lately. I know a lot of people who read this aren't Jewish, so if you would like me to link to definitions and/or explain terms in the entries themselves, please comment and I'll be happy to do so from here on out.

I realized the other day that I actually lied earlier when I said I hadn't been to Rosh Hashanah services since 1998; it's actually more like 1993. After that, I gained the coveted Old-Enough-to-Babysit-at-the-Synagogue status and spent my high holidays in the preschool reading the little kids books like Everyone Poops and making sure that the kid covered in snot didn't get left out during playtime in the gymnasium. It's possible that I attended one or two services in the five year period following my Bat Mitzvah, but mainly, my high holidays were spent trying to untangle clenched little fists from my hair and/or jewelry.

So Tuesday was an even bigger deal than I had previously realized. We got to services right on time, despite having to make an unexpected stop on the way. I can't believe that, after living in a city full of Jews my whole life, we drove an hour to attend services, but we did. At first I was a little uncomfortable. Besides my typical tendency to be completely freaked out in new settings, this shul was very different from the Recon shul in Minneapolis. Out of all the people there (maybe 150 or so?) I could only identify two potential hippies. Compare to our Shabbat services at Mayim Rabim: out of 12 people, 10 were clearly hippies. Also, there were a lot of older people there, which I guess I foolishly didn't expect at all. In my mind, this is a movement for people my parents' age and younger. Very ignorant of me.

Anyway, the first part of the service was sort of uncomfortable for me, mainly because I didn't know any of the tunes to the prayers. For me, that's the MOST isolating thing that could happen at services. It's the one thing that has kept me away from more Jewish experiences than I can count, and it's by far the most difficult thing about making the transition from Conservative to Reconstructionist for me. But I tried to remind myself of two things: 1) I don't really know the Conservative Rosh Hashanah tunes either, and 2) If the Conservative movement was fulfilling for me, I wouldn't be doing something new.

And, as usual, I regained my equilibrium during the Amidah. For me, that prayer, the silent time when I can both give myself a good solid pep talk with no interuptions and also actually PRAY has always been the make-or-break element in a service. It's very important to me to know that everyone around me is also focusing on an inward spiritual moment at the same time I am. At this shul, they designate that time for meditation, and even though it's the one time that I DO pray, I appreciate that verbage.

After the Amidah, I felt much more comfortable. I had settled in and felt a part of the community. The Torah service followed that, and since the tunes for that are the same everywhere, it was another equalizer. The only thing that threw me off was when the Haftorah was said in English. In fact, I had no idea that the Haftorah was over until they started the prayers that follow it.

I enjoyed the D'var Torah, although it was very long. The rabbi talked about how this year begins a 3 year cycle wherein Ramadan falls at the same time as the Jewish High Holidays. This won't happen again until 2028. He talked about how this symbolizes an opportunity that we have to create a positive relationship and besides talking about the work that needs to be done, he talked about some positive things that are already happening. I wish his D'var Torah was online, so I could link to it, but I'll keep watching for it and put up a link later if he posts it.

After that, all that was left was the shofar. By that time, all the kids (and oh my goodness were there a lot of kids!) had come to the main "sanctuary" and were sitting on the stairs next to our chairs. In fact, I had trouble paying attention to part of the D'var Torah because they were so damn cute. The little ones were just great.

I do have to stop for a moment, though, to vent. There were a few high school age kids in jeans and t-shirts. I know that standards have changed since I was a kid, and I know that this is not a Conservative shul, but WOW. My parents would have disowned me if I had worn jeans to High Holiday services. My mom didn't even let me wear PANTS to SHABBAT services until I was in college.

We noticed this trend in Minneapolis when we went to Shabbat at the LGBT Reform shul, but that was Shabbat. Still not ok in my book, but this... We're talking about one of the two most holy days of the year. JEANS? Really? And there was one kid playing with an iPod, too. I just don't get it. I don't care if it IS old-fashioned; our kids will be getting dressed up for Shabbat and the High Holidays. In Judaism, it's so important to recognize the separation of the regular days from the special days, and I can't imagine dressing like a regular day for those occasions.

Anyway, back to our day. We didn't stick around after the service. I needed to leave and sort of process stuff, and no one had said hi to us at that point, so it felt ok to leave. We also didn't go to Tashlich, although it might have been nice to go, since I've never been to that. We didn't go back the next day, either, since Lauren had to work. I had originally planned to go to Oberlin services on Wednesday, but every time I come in contact with the Oberlin Jewish community, I walk away feeling unworthy and unwanted, and that's exactly what I'm working to move past, so I decided to skip it. I think I made the right choice.

All in all, it was a really positive experience. It was very new, and a little uncomfortable, but as I reminded myself during my Amidah pep talk, the only way that something new becomes something familiar is to keep exposing myself to it and to keep an open mind. I feel really good about that and I'm more than ready to return next week for Kol Nidre and Yom Kippur. I'm looking forward to it, and I'm looking forward to attending Shabbat services there in the future, too. And maybe getting involved in other ways, too.

Even if it is a whole hour away. Stupid Ohio.

Posted to Jew-mania at 01:26 PM | Comments (2)

October 02, 2005

Chag Sameach, and L'shanah Tovah! (a day early)

I'm back from the dead!

It would seem that I'm actually recovering from being sick. I have to say that I'm really glad about this. I've been sick for over a week now, with Thursday through Saturday being those "death, please come and take me now to relieve me of my misery" days. Today I was able to drag my ass out of bed and go to my Hebrew class, and although it sapped me of all my energy for the day, I'm feeling a lot better.

I attribute this SOLELY to the six bowls of entirely homemade Jewish chicken soup that Lauren prepared. And for those who will ask why I say "Jewish chicken soup" instead of just "chicken soup", I'll supply Lauren's answer -- Jewish chicken soup is made with just the right amount of guilt and love.

I'm especially glad that I'm feeling better in time for Rosh Hashanah. I'm so nervous about going to a new synagogue for services on Tuesday, but I'm looking forward to this new year. For me, even as a person who thinks the concept of January 1st as New Year's Day is a complete piece of garbage, this Rosh Hashanah is going to be very meaningful. It marks the start of the first official year of my life that I am wholly and firmly committed to a Jewish identity separate from that of my family's and the first year that I will be pursuing the vocation that calls to me.

I think anyone who knows me well knows that I'm not big on holidays. As a rule, the only thing I like about them is family togetherness, and as my family has shrunk (and gotten crazier), even the joy in that has dwindled. In fact, I'm thrilled that I won't be in Minnesota for the high holidays this year. My parents aren't going to services and my family isn't even doing Break Fast or dinner for Rosh Hashanah, and I don't think I could take that if I was there. I've always hated the fourth of July and New Year's, and I'm a regular grinch when it comes to Christmas. Thanksgiving is the only holiday I've ever liked, and I'm perfectly willing to admit that that is almost solely because of my love of turkey and my great aunt's rice that I only got to eat once a year as a kid.

When it comes to Jewish holidays, though, I've always been a little more excitable. I love Pesach, or at least I did until my family seders became... rough sketches of a seder, to put it kindly. As a kid, Purim was intimidating but thrilling. Even Tisha B'Av meant something to me if I was at camp. And of course, Shabbat at camp was unparalleled. I guess the sense of history and community behind Jewish holidays has always been meaningful to me.

So I'm excited to make an official start to my new year. I've finally, FINALLY given myself permission to be Jewish in my own way. This is going to be a great Tishrei for me, I think.

Posted to Jew-mania at 11:42 PM | Comments (3)

September 27, 2005

That's Ms. Brittany-Spearser Rebbe to you!

I know that in the entries I've written so far about Hebrew class, I've mentioned that I am kicking some Hebrew butt. I've also acknowledged that a day would come when I would no longer do so. That day has arrived.

I don't know if it's because I was a little groggy in class today because I'm still sick or if we've just exceeded the number of words I'm capable of remembering at once, but I am now officially confused. For the first time, while doing my homework, I have to search frantically through the glossary I have created for the textbook to figure out what the heck the book is saying -- even with the words we just learned in class today.

I think I can guess pretty accurately that from here on out, getting up and dressed and off to class won't be so fun for me. It's not fun to suck.

In other Jewish-y news, I contacted the Recon synagogue in Cleveland, Kol Halev about the exorbitant cost of attending high holiday services, and they kindly offered to let us pay whatever we could afford. We are now officially on The List to attend their services. So I'll be actually GOING to high holiday services for the first time since... 1998?

That's so bizarre. I love high holiday services. But in 1999-2002, I was at college and unable to attend a synagogue. Then in 2003, my family had just left our synagogue at home and I was completely confused about how to get tickets without membership. Then in 2004, I had a complete nervous breakdown on the first day of Rosh Hashanah that resulted in me staying in bed for a good two weeks.

Also, in my quest for good podcasts, I've discovered There are Jews in Alabama? and I'm loving it. Nothing beats Shalom Y'all, but considering that I'll get new material to listen to every week, I'll take it.

Ok, I can't write this entry and watch Gilmore Girls at the same time. I'll be done now. I'll leave you with my Hassidic Rebbe Name:

You are very wise, humble and pious, Rebecca...
from this day forward you will now be known as the holy Reb Tzemer Yerushalmi Feldman of Uzliany , also known as the 'Brittany-Spearser Rebbe'...now let your chassidish adventures begin, your talmidim are waiting!

Posted to Jew-mania at 04:54 PM | Comments (0)

September 18, 2005

Jew-mania

I've had such a Jewish week! Between Hebrew class, reading two Jewish novels, my Birthright Israel interview, and jotting down some general ideas for my RRC application essay, I'm all Jewed out.

In truth, I'm really enjoying it. I'm loving Hebrew class so far, although as our vocabulary list approaches 100 words, I'm beginning to have trouble remembering which verb is which. I'm surprised, though, at how much Hebrew I retained from Talmud Torah. I know so many of the words we're learning, I already know how to read and write (but not translate) in script and block, and the things I don't know are coming easily so far. True, we still haven't finished the alphabet, but I really look forward to every class and come home excited to do my homework.

Unfortunately, I showed my professor the list of what I'll need to know to get into the Mechinah year of RRC, and two semesters isn't going to be enough. She told me, though, that there's an Israeli student here who could probably help me with the other stuff. I hope so. I understand that it's possible that I won't be able to apply for another year, but I'm really hoping to start next year if I can.

I've also now done everything I can do to get ready for Birthright. I applied for my passport, did my phone interview, sent in my deposit... Lauren has done the same. I'm still a little nervous about choosing Kesher for our trip provider, but in the end, I doubt it matters much. They said we should know in 2-3 weeks whether we got on. My hopes are high.

I finally read The Red Tent this week. People have been recommending it to me for years, but I just wasn't that interested. I finally gave in, and I really enjoyed it. It's not up there on the favorites list, but it was really pretty good. I think I'd like to own it. Right now I'm reading The Outside World, and while I can't imagine a non-Jew trying to read it, I'm enjoying that, as well. Reading is fun. It makes me forget to do important things, like bathe and do dishes and go outside, but it's fun.

That's been my whole week. It's been the least interesting since I got here. And I've enjoyed it.

Posted to Jew-mania & Miscellaneous at 09:43 PM | Comments (3)

September 06, 2005

Oh, yeah, that one vowel is called a patach...

I just got back from my very first Hebrew class since 7th grade (if you could call Talmud Torah Hebrew classes), and to my surprise, I'm ahead of the game. It should stay that way for the next two weeks as we learn the Alef-Bet, the one part of the Hebrew language that I've already mastered. After that, all bets are off and I'll probably drop to the bottom of the class, but that's alright. Today's class (we learned alef, mem, nun, hey, and taf in both block and script, plus four vowels) was a nice confidence booster.

There's other good news about this class, as well. It's free (I'm not getting any credit for it, but I really don't need credit), and the book only costs $25. The book should also last me through both semesters. This is the best financial investment I've ever made. That alone is reason to take this class, especially after spending an amount of money I don't care to sum up on my Oberlin education and subsequent masters degree.

It's funny how differently my pursuance of entrance to RRC is going from other endeavors I undertake. Normally I speed through everything, making decisions before I can second guess myself and change my mind. It's now already been nearly 6 months since I first decided I wanted to apply, and things are going slowly and steadily. I'm on the mailing list for interested students. I've attended two online open houses. I applied to the Institute for Prospective Students (including writing an essay and getting a letter of recommendation) and have been accepted. I'm taking Hebrew classes. On Thursday, Lauren and I will register for a trip on birthright. I've started thinking about what I'll say in the essay that will accompany my application for admission. I won't even be submitting it until February at the earliest, but I'm building up to it. So unlike me. So frightening.

Ugh. I hope this doesn't mean I'm becoming a grown-up.

Posted to Jew-mania & Oberlin at 12:27 PM | Comments (0)

July 31, 2005

having goals changes everything

Right now, I'm sitting in on a virtual open house for the RRC on the subject of the year in Israel. Other than admissions requirements, this is the area of rabbinical school that concerns me most. How does one pick up and move away for a year and then come back? What is Lauren supposed to do with herself for a year in Israel? How can we survive financially with neither of us working? Will Lauren be able to find a job again in the same city when we get back?

I've gotten the same answers repeatedly (except for the last question -- no one seems to be able to answer that), but it hasn't made me any less scared. Living a year in a foreign country is just plain terrifying, and not knowing how we'll survive when we get back is even scarier.

In the meantime, I got up my guts and turned in my application to the RRC's institute for prospective students, and it should get there in time to qualify me for the priority decision deadline. I'm still trying to get ahold of the Hebrew teacher here so that I can get into her class. I've just been informed that signup for winter Birthright trips will be September 8th, so now I need to go get my passport. I'm committed and excited and scared out of my mind.

And I'm really glad to have somewhere to focus my attention, because otherwise, I might die of boredom before the year ends.

Posted to Jew-mania at 01:15 PM | Comments (2)