This poem MUST remain a state secret for a while so don't tell anyone you saw it here- my niece is using it for a school assignment under her name but I was so excited with it that I just wanted to post it already. So just don't let anyone find out that she paid me to write it for her. :-)
Growing up I felt alone,
Had nowhere I felt right.
My friends were always noticed,
While I stood just out of sight.
They seemed to have it perfect
Knowing just what to do and say
Easy smiles, the right clothes,
They were accepted right away
So for a while I copied
Made sure to dress the same way too
Had the matching designer bags
And the perfect pair of shoes
The clothes didn’t seem to cut it
Even the compliments seemed fake
So I went back to my observing
And looked for another take
And then I cut my hair like they did
Laughed at the jokes I didn’t quite get
They laughed along and liked the hairstyle
But I didn’t fit just yet
And as much as I kept trying
To copy every expression on their faces
I never felt like I was me,
I was pieces in a thousand places
Then one day I woke up tired
Was so discouraged I could cry
I put my hair into a good old ponytail
And gave my own self a try.
That day at lunch I admitted
That those shoes pinched my toes
I laughed a real laugh then
When all I heard were a bunch of “I know’s!”
Slowly I stopped worrying
And stopped copying what they bought
Figured it was time to find out who I was
Without worrying what they thought
Funny thing happened then
As I started to make the shift
I became noticed more
Wasn’t lost now in the drift.
I guess when I was like them
I was just another face in the crowd
With those matching perfect shoes and bag
Nothing different to make me stand out
But now my hair is longer,
Pulled back into place
It’s not the raging style
But it looks good on my face
And my friends really accept me
For whom I am and what I have
They like me for what’s inside me
(Although I still love that designer bag!)
It was hard to make that realization
That I had to break away
Stop doing things just to be like them
And figure out my own way
But after all is said and done
It’s easy enough to see
That while it’s wonderful to feel accepted,
It feels better to feel like me.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Purim Pics!
Oh, and yes! JB has peyos! I really wanted to post about our trip to Miron but you know, Purim got in the way...
My Monopoly man and his bag of money:
My kids and my great-nephews (the ballerinas):
My brother kissing a friend on the street. (My brother is the girlie. Don't ask.):
My Monopoly man and his bag of money:
My kids and my great-nephews (the ballerinas):
My brother kissing a friend on the street. (My brother is the girlie. Don't ask.):
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Purim Poem 2010
I dunno about Purim this year...
I love Purim but I love the spirit of it, not the competition. I can't stand the neighbors showing off their six daughters all matching in some costume I saw for $29.95 in the party store and giving out 65 shalach manos that cost at least $10 apiece.
I mean, yeah, I've been doing themes since I was two and I have pictures of all eleven of us (parents and the siblings) all dressed matching, but they're in costumes we made ourselves and with a theme we worked on together as a family project. It wasn't about my mother showing off her brood to her friends, it was about us kids getting together for a day of creative fun.
There was no pressure as a kid. Purim was pure fun. Sure, I lost my cool when a sister wore our "secret" costume to her purim masquerade a few days before the actual unveiling and I got mad if a brother wanted to be a soldier instead of the garbage collectors we were doing that year, but still, it was all in good fun.
Then I get married and have my own kids and I'm learning what Purim is all about in the adult world. My FaceBook home page is FULL of my friends obsessing over their themes and costumes and the last item that MUST go into their mishloach manos. I'm starting to feel inferior and even a tad resentful that my husband won't allow me to blow my last three paychecks on fancy chocolates no one likes and bottles of wine. Oh, and three Sundays baking Boston cream pies and Biscotti. (Please, I'm kidding)
Just as a by the way- for those friends who are baking- don't bother. If you have kids under the age of ten in your home, everything homemade goes right in the bin. I have a three year old baker here too and I know EXACTLY what goes into your cookies. Snot sweat and more snot.
So not my thing.
Which is not to say I don't go a little crazy.
I am a perfectionist after all and I do want my kids to look good and I want to be proud of whatever presentation we decide to give.
So while my mishloach manos isn't anything special (think everything that was ten for a dollar in the supermarket) and our costumes are pretty basic (black hat, shabbos vest, cane, and money necktie, or in my daughter's case, a pillowcase stuffed to look like a bag of money) the one thing I pride myself on every year is my poem.
You liked it last year, so here's the one we're doing now! (Our theme is Monopoly)
Money money years ago
It started with a king,
He ruled 127 countries
And monopolized everything.
He threw a party for all his subjects
But then his queen refused to dance,
So he shut down her accounts
And said “You lost your Chance.”
When his deed hit him hard,
He sent out a new bill
Said “I’m looking for a Queen,
Vashti’s place to fill.”
Girls from all over the country
Basked in Hagai’s makeups and scents
They were banking on this to get rich quick
And would spare no expense.
Esther had all the properties
Achashverosh wanted in his wife
He took one good look at her
And signed the dotted line for her life.
But although he kept asking her
“A penny for your thoughts”
Esther kept her identity secret
And wouldn’t allow it to be bought.
It may have bothered the king greatly
But soon he had troubles of a capital order
Mordechai found two traitors
And the king had them drawn and quartered.
Then all was forgotten
When Haman proposed his new endeavor
With moneybags as a bribe
He hoped to be rid of the Jews forever
But Achashverosh didn’t much like the Jews
And so gave Haman the Royal seal
Said “Business is business”
And “I’ll fund the whole deal”
Haman set a lottery
He let the die cast the date,
Though he didn’t credit the actions the Yidden took,
When they found out about their fate.
When Charvona came to teller,
Esther asked for a fast,
“For three days of davening I appeal,
Before the king’s patience I’ll tax”
“I’d treasury your company tonight,” Esther said,
“And please make Haman aware.”
The king was interested in her offer,
And promised he and Haman would be there.
The King asked for her trust,
Begged her to get the worries off her (community) chest,
But “Please come tomorrow night”
Was Esther’s only request.
Buy night Achashverosh couldn’t sleep,
And called for Haman’s advice,
“I need to give someone a bonus,
Give me an idea that’s nice.”
So he expressed a fanciful vision
“Weal-the king means me of course!”
But when Haman heard he’d be leading Mordechai
It was like a Railroad hitting him at full force!
His daughter re-vault-ed him in public,
He didn’t much like this game,
And when he had to run to Esther’s party,
He thought he was going insane.
Only one thing had him laughing all the way to the bank,
The thought of cashing in Mordechai’s chips,
So he rushed in to his private party
With a confident swagger in his hips.
When the party passed Go
Eshter laid her cards on the table
“This man has been nickel and dimeing you!”
And she told Achashverosh all she was able.
Obviously, Haman went to Jail,
And he was given free parking on a tall tree.
He and his family hung high above the boardwalk,
For all Shushan’s residents to see.
With the flip of a coin, our nation was saved,
Their mazal was changed in a blink.
Haman was gone, the gezeira was over,
From rags to riches in a wink.
All the Yidden Sell-ebrated,
Once the news got around,
Hashem performed a huge nes,
And the Jews were now safe and sound!
Today we give Mishloach manos, we eat a seuda
And are “b’simcha adei ad”,
And of course we do matanos l’evyonim
Giving dollars “l’chol haposhet yad”!
So this is the story across the board,
What the megilla has to say.
Take note and remember it well,
And monopolize the day!
A Frelichen Purim!
I love Purim but I love the spirit of it, not the competition. I can't stand the neighbors showing off their six daughters all matching in some costume I saw for $29.95 in the party store and giving out 65 shalach manos that cost at least $10 apiece.
I mean, yeah, I've been doing themes since I was two and I have pictures of all eleven of us (parents and the siblings) all dressed matching, but they're in costumes we made ourselves and with a theme we worked on together as a family project. It wasn't about my mother showing off her brood to her friends, it was about us kids getting together for a day of creative fun.
There was no pressure as a kid. Purim was pure fun. Sure, I lost my cool when a sister wore our "secret" costume to her purim masquerade a few days before the actual unveiling and I got mad if a brother wanted to be a soldier instead of the garbage collectors we were doing that year, but still, it was all in good fun.
Then I get married and have my own kids and I'm learning what Purim is all about in the adult world. My FaceBook home page is FULL of my friends obsessing over their themes and costumes and the last item that MUST go into their mishloach manos. I'm starting to feel inferior and even a tad resentful that my husband won't allow me to blow my last three paychecks on fancy chocolates no one likes and bottles of wine. Oh, and three Sundays baking Boston cream pies and Biscotti. (Please, I'm kidding)
Just as a by the way- for those friends who are baking- don't bother. If you have kids under the age of ten in your home, everything homemade goes right in the bin. I have a three year old baker here too and I know EXACTLY what goes into your cookies. Snot sweat and more snot.
So not my thing.
Which is not to say I don't go a little crazy.
I am a perfectionist after all and I do want my kids to look good and I want to be proud of whatever presentation we decide to give.
So while my mishloach manos isn't anything special (think everything that was ten for a dollar in the supermarket) and our costumes are pretty basic (black hat, shabbos vest, cane, and money necktie, or in my daughter's case, a pillowcase stuffed to look like a bag of money) the one thing I pride myself on every year is my poem.
You liked it last year, so here's the one we're doing now! (Our theme is Monopoly)
Money money years ago
It started with a king,
He ruled 127 countries
And monopolized everything.
He threw a party for all his subjects
But then his queen refused to dance,
So he shut down her accounts
And said “You lost your Chance.”
When his deed hit him hard,
He sent out a new bill
Said “I’m looking for a Queen,
Vashti’s place to fill.”
Girls from all over the country
Basked in Hagai’s makeups and scents
They were banking on this to get rich quick
And would spare no expense.
Esther had all the properties
Achashverosh wanted in his wife
He took one good look at her
And signed the dotted line for her life.
But although he kept asking her
“A penny for your thoughts”
Esther kept her identity secret
And wouldn’t allow it to be bought.
It may have bothered the king greatly
But soon he had troubles of a capital order
Mordechai found two traitors
And the king had them drawn and quartered.
Then all was forgotten
When Haman proposed his new endeavor
With moneybags as a bribe
He hoped to be rid of the Jews forever
But Achashverosh didn’t much like the Jews
And so gave Haman the Royal seal
Said “Business is business”
And “I’ll fund the whole deal”
Haman set a lottery
He let the die cast the date,
Though he didn’t credit the actions the Yidden took,
When they found out about their fate.
When Charvona came to teller,
Esther asked for a fast,
“For three days of davening I appeal,
Before the king’s patience I’ll tax”
“I’d treasury your company tonight,” Esther said,
“And please make Haman aware.”
The king was interested in her offer,
And promised he and Haman would be there.
The King asked for her trust,
Begged her to get the worries off her (community) chest,
But “Please come tomorrow night”
Was Esther’s only request.
Buy night Achashverosh couldn’t sleep,
And called for Haman’s advice,
“I need to give someone a bonus,
Give me an idea that’s nice.”
So he expressed a fanciful vision
“Weal-the king means me of course!”
But when Haman heard he’d be leading Mordechai
It was like a Railroad hitting him at full force!
His daughter re-vault-ed him in public,
He didn’t much like this game,
And when he had to run to Esther’s party,
He thought he was going insane.
Only one thing had him laughing all the way to the bank,
The thought of cashing in Mordechai’s chips,
So he rushed in to his private party
With a confident swagger in his hips.
When the party passed Go
Eshter laid her cards on the table
“This man has been nickel and dimeing you!”
And she told Achashverosh all she was able.
Obviously, Haman went to Jail,
And he was given free parking on a tall tree.
He and his family hung high above the boardwalk,
For all Shushan’s residents to see.
With the flip of a coin, our nation was saved,
Their mazal was changed in a blink.
Haman was gone, the gezeira was over,
From rags to riches in a wink.
All the Yidden Sell-ebrated,
Once the news got around,
Hashem performed a huge nes,
And the Jews were now safe and sound!
Today we give Mishloach manos, we eat a seuda
And are “b’simcha adei ad”,
And of course we do matanos l’evyonim
Giving dollars “l’chol haposhet yad”!
So this is the story across the board,
What the megilla has to say.
Take note and remember it well,
And monopolize the day!
A Frelichen Purim!
Monday, February 01, 2010
Week's Worth of Posts
Yeah yeah, I'm still around. Just too extraordinarily busy to post.
But there are a lot of things I should have posted about so today I'm playing catch up.
I think the first thing I should post about is my trip to Montreal.
Last Sunday I flew out there with my daughter (on her first Birthday!) for a speaking engagement. HB was adorable! She flirted with everyone in the airport and ate delicious dirt off the floors as she crawled around for the hour that we waited to board our flight.
Then, once on the plane, she looked fascinated out the window until takeoff when I had to sit her facing me on my lap. I was afraid she'd scream as the plane went up, but she was really really quiet and alert and as the plane lifted and there was that slight drag that pulls you back into your seat, HB dozed off. The drag pulled her body down to me and she gave into it and closed her eyes. It was so funny!
So she slept through the entire ride and when we landed I woke her and we breezed through the airport because I had no luggage save for one carry on.
We met up with the woman who came to get us from the a-port and she took us to my grandmother's flat about fifteen minutes away.
Then my grandmother spent the day spoiling us both rotten. We had a HUGE lunch that only a grandmother can set up and then we went out to buy HB a new snowsuit because her great-grandmother was SCANDALIZED that she wore JB's old navy blue one.
So one MAGENTA snow suit later we went back home to take a nap before the big event that night.
We left right on time, fifteen minutes late and spent the whole way arguing with the GPS that was supposed to get us there but didn't recognize the address no matter how many different ways we tried putting it in.
We got there in the end (the place was only ten minutes away and we followed printed instructions) but we spent an extra fifteen minutes ranting at the stupid GPS about why it didn't work. My grandmother had specifically given my grandfather's car for a car wash that day because she was set on taking his car that night because it had GPS. So of course when the GPS didn't work she was devastated and on the way home we drove right through a three foot deep slush puddle to punish it.
The party was thrown by an organization called Ezras Cholim. The organization is like a referral agency- they help patients navigate all the red tape there is in the medical field and get them into great doctors that would otherwise have waiting lists as long as my arm.
I've been to lots of parties but this one was awesome. The auction was downstairs and upstairs, since it was in a rented wedding hall, the caterers set up the chairs around small tables so the whole setting was very cozy and not as "speechy" as most other events where the chairs are lined up in straight rows.
My grandmother sat down at a center table that had a big reserved sign on it and whenever someone came to tell her it was a reserved table she proudly said, "But I am Tzeepi Caton's Grrrrandmozzer!" (She's French)Of course when someone told me to leave I did so very politely. Then later when I was called up to speak I totally enjoyed the look of horror on the same lady's face.
It happens to me all the time. It's not like a wear a sign announcing who I am when I get to an event and I don't tell anyone who I am until my speech because otherwise my whole night gets killed with all the people who MUST come over and talk to me. So it was much easier when a group of ladies came to my table and politely told me shove off, to just apologize and wheel HB away.
The speech was beautiful. I spoke and showed off HB who was smiling and waving and so not intimidated. (She gets that from me!) I think that HB was the hit of the night. People left talking about her, not me. :-)
Of course we got home really late (the GPS again) and then the next morning I had to wake up really really early to make my flight home.
But alas, the weather in New York was awful and they weren't allowing any flights in so my 11:00 and my 1:30 flights were cancelled and HB and I got to spend another whole day with Babby.
The 3:30 flight did go in the end so we got to the airport early and flew through check in but of course since the whole airport was backed up, I waited an hour in customs and by the time I got out my flight was boarding so my husband had to make do without the Peter Heering liquer he wanted me to pick up in Duty Free.
HB was good on the flight back as well although she didnt sleep but I was antsy and anxious to be home already.
This is why I charge so much for bookings- Two cancelled flights and my day is killed- I charge for my time more than for my speech.
We landed at 5 and at 5:05 I was out of the airport wiating for my ride. No one told me that my ride was making a stop in some hick town on the way home and that they'd get lost and that I'd be sitting with a cranky, hungry kid on my lap and that my toes would be in agony from my (adorable but) pinching boots and that I'd come home a full two hours later than I was supposed to.
But by 8pm I had both kids bathed nad fed and sleeping and I would have loved to sleep too but I had a wedding to run to which I ran to and then ran back from and fell into bed and was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
Then there was my speech for Project HOPE in Monsey this past Motzei Shabbos. HB came along again because there was no way the husband would agree to watch her and JB for the night. JB cried when I left- my speeches don't particularly make him very happy.
HB cried in the car - so me and the husband are even I guess. Although JB was sleeping by 10 and HB was up till 12 when we got to leave the party and then she screamed again at 1:30 when I woke her up to bring her into the house.
But anyway, the party was stunning! They had the whole place decorated with butterflies like the cover of Miracle Ride. It was in someone's home and was set up so nicely. There were a few rooms set up with chairs and large video screens where the speeches and program were shown. HB crawled around my legs as I spoke and I picked her up towards the end when she started chewing on the wires and I was afraid of either a blackout or electrocution.
I stayed late to sign some books and smile a lot at people I didn't know.
The best part of the evening was meeting my longtime friend and "editor" Chany L. who has worked with me on both my books and has read every piece of writing I have done in the last two years and gave me excellent feedback on everything.
We'd never had an opportunity to meet before that night and being that she lived in the area, she dropped by the speech and we got to meet each other in person for the first time. We both agreed that each other were adorable but she might have been lying- I'm not. :-)
By the time we got home I was a zombie and when my husband heard me come in he woke up and told me what a miserable night he had with JB. I smiled pleasantly and told him "welcome to my life." He'd never handle doing this every day with both kids. He told me that I couldn't make enough money for him to babysit ever again and I informed him that when it's your own kids it's not called babysitting. Then he went back to sleep in a huff. Oh well, at least I have some extra money now to buy that new pair of four inch heels I had my eye on.
So I think that's really most of what I was supposed to blog about recently.
Oh, and I didn't get to meet our frequent commentor Brochi because she had a baby Thursday before my Montreal speech! Mazal tov to her and her husband!
Im going to attach some pics of HB in Montreal and more pics of the tzitzis I made for JB last week. His upsherin is in three days and I wasted five hours apeice on each of those pairs, which is why I had no time to post. Hey, he deserves them! We're shaving his HEAD for this! And besides, he only gets to turn three once!
But there are a lot of things I should have posted about so today I'm playing catch up.
I think the first thing I should post about is my trip to Montreal.
Last Sunday I flew out there with my daughter (on her first Birthday!) for a speaking engagement. HB was adorable! She flirted with everyone in the airport and ate delicious dirt off the floors as she crawled around for the hour that we waited to board our flight.
Then, once on the plane, she looked fascinated out the window until takeoff when I had to sit her facing me on my lap. I was afraid she'd scream as the plane went up, but she was really really quiet and alert and as the plane lifted and there was that slight drag that pulls you back into your seat, HB dozed off. The drag pulled her body down to me and she gave into it and closed her eyes. It was so funny!
So she slept through the entire ride and when we landed I woke her and we breezed through the airport because I had no luggage save for one carry on.
We met up with the woman who came to get us from the a-port and she took us to my grandmother's flat about fifteen minutes away.
Then my grandmother spent the day spoiling us both rotten. We had a HUGE lunch that only a grandmother can set up and then we went out to buy HB a new snowsuit because her great-grandmother was SCANDALIZED that she wore JB's old navy blue one.
So one MAGENTA snow suit later we went back home to take a nap before the big event that night.
We left right on time, fifteen minutes late and spent the whole way arguing with the GPS that was supposed to get us there but didn't recognize the address no matter how many different ways we tried putting it in.
We got there in the end (the place was only ten minutes away and we followed printed instructions) but we spent an extra fifteen minutes ranting at the stupid GPS about why it didn't work. My grandmother had specifically given my grandfather's car for a car wash that day because she was set on taking his car that night because it had GPS. So of course when the GPS didn't work she was devastated and on the way home we drove right through a three foot deep slush puddle to punish it.
The party was thrown by an organization called Ezras Cholim. The organization is like a referral agency- they help patients navigate all the red tape there is in the medical field and get them into great doctors that would otherwise have waiting lists as long as my arm.
I've been to lots of parties but this one was awesome. The auction was downstairs and upstairs, since it was in a rented wedding hall, the caterers set up the chairs around small tables so the whole setting was very cozy and not as "speechy" as most other events where the chairs are lined up in straight rows.
My grandmother sat down at a center table that had a big reserved sign on it and whenever someone came to tell her it was a reserved table she proudly said, "But I am Tzeepi Caton's Grrrrandmozzer!" (She's French)Of course when someone told me to leave I did so very politely. Then later when I was called up to speak I totally enjoyed the look of horror on the same lady's face.
It happens to me all the time. It's not like a wear a sign announcing who I am when I get to an event and I don't tell anyone who I am until my speech because otherwise my whole night gets killed with all the people who MUST come over and talk to me. So it was much easier when a group of ladies came to my table and politely told me shove off, to just apologize and wheel HB away.
The speech was beautiful. I spoke and showed off HB who was smiling and waving and so not intimidated. (She gets that from me!) I think that HB was the hit of the night. People left talking about her, not me. :-)
Of course we got home really late (the GPS again) and then the next morning I had to wake up really really early to make my flight home.
But alas, the weather in New York was awful and they weren't allowing any flights in so my 11:00 and my 1:30 flights were cancelled and HB and I got to spend another whole day with Babby.
The 3:30 flight did go in the end so we got to the airport early and flew through check in but of course since the whole airport was backed up, I waited an hour in customs and by the time I got out my flight was boarding so my husband had to make do without the Peter Heering liquer he wanted me to pick up in Duty Free.
HB was good on the flight back as well although she didnt sleep but I was antsy and anxious to be home already.
This is why I charge so much for bookings- Two cancelled flights and my day is killed- I charge for my time more than for my speech.
We landed at 5 and at 5:05 I was out of the airport wiating for my ride. No one told me that my ride was making a stop in some hick town on the way home and that they'd get lost and that I'd be sitting with a cranky, hungry kid on my lap and that my toes would be in agony from my (adorable but) pinching boots and that I'd come home a full two hours later than I was supposed to.
But by 8pm I had both kids bathed nad fed and sleeping and I would have loved to sleep too but I had a wedding to run to which I ran to and then ran back from and fell into bed and was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
Then there was my speech for Project HOPE in Monsey this past Motzei Shabbos. HB came along again because there was no way the husband would agree to watch her and JB for the night. JB cried when I left- my speeches don't particularly make him very happy.
HB cried in the car - so me and the husband are even I guess. Although JB was sleeping by 10 and HB was up till 12 when we got to leave the party and then she screamed again at 1:30 when I woke her up to bring her into the house.
But anyway, the party was stunning! They had the whole place decorated with butterflies like the cover of Miracle Ride. It was in someone's home and was set up so nicely. There were a few rooms set up with chairs and large video screens where the speeches and program were shown. HB crawled around my legs as I spoke and I picked her up towards the end when she started chewing on the wires and I was afraid of either a blackout or electrocution.
I stayed late to sign some books and smile a lot at people I didn't know.
The best part of the evening was meeting my longtime friend and "editor" Chany L. who has worked with me on both my books and has read every piece of writing I have done in the last two years and gave me excellent feedback on everything.
We'd never had an opportunity to meet before that night and being that she lived in the area, she dropped by the speech and we got to meet each other in person for the first time. We both agreed that each other were adorable but she might have been lying- I'm not. :-)
By the time we got home I was a zombie and when my husband heard me come in he woke up and told me what a miserable night he had with JB. I smiled pleasantly and told him "welcome to my life." He'd never handle doing this every day with both kids. He told me that I couldn't make enough money for him to babysit ever again and I informed him that when it's your own kids it's not called babysitting. Then he went back to sleep in a huff. Oh well, at least I have some extra money now to buy that new pair of four inch heels I had my eye on.
So I think that's really most of what I was supposed to blog about recently.
Oh, and I didn't get to meet our frequent commentor Brochi because she had a baby Thursday before my Montreal speech! Mazal tov to her and her husband!
Im going to attach some pics of HB in Montreal and more pics of the tzitzis I made for JB last week. His upsherin is in three days and I wasted five hours apeice on each of those pairs, which is why I had no time to post. Hey, he deserves them! We're shaving his HEAD for this! And besides, he only gets to turn three once!
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Look what I Found!
I get asked a lot if certain of the crazier parts of Miracle Ride are real- other than real proof you're just going to have to take my word for most of it, but look what I just dug up! (and yes I know it's a few weeks late...)
P.S.- only about two more weeks to send in your reviews on Invisible Me! Targum's contest runs until January 31 2010. Send 'em to my email address- twinklebrite AT yahoo.com
P.S.- only about two more weeks to send in your reviews on Invisible Me! Targum's contest runs until January 31 2010. Send 'em to my email address- twinklebrite AT yahoo.com
Friday, December 25, 2009
Top Talents in Jewish Music Donate New Song for RCCS!
“I Believe in Miracles”; A Song to Help Cancer Patients
Avrohom Fried, Yossi Green, Yisroel Lamm, and other stars in the world of Jewish music have combined their unique talents to produce a theme song to benefit the many hundreds of cancer patients being assisted by RCCS, the Rofeh Cholim Cancer Society.
The theme, “I Believe in Miracles”, came as a result of so many former cancer patients expressing themselves as recipients of a miracle, funded and facilitated by RCCS. The recurrent theme of the song is a song of hope and a song of strength.
In fact, many of the great Rishonim have written how one’s acts of kindness can result in the creation of a “miracle”. We are taught time and time again never to give up hope, even if a “sharp sword is resting upon one’s throat”. And that is the story of the song, and that is the story of RCCS.
Yossi Green, one of the leading composers in contemporary Jewish music was inspired to compose the song as a result of his first-hand knowledge of the accomplishments of RCCS. When Avrohom Fried (arguably the leading singer in the Chassidic music field, today) heard the song, he readily agreed to take part in this Chessed undertaking. And for those who know Yisroel Lamm, it is easy to guess that he immediately agreed to arrange and conduct the music.
The result is obvious to anyone with a discerning ear. According to Yossi Green, this song may go down as one of the greatest in Avrohom Fried’s longstanding history of great hits.
To download this song by donating a minimum of $1.80 to RCCS, please go to:
www.rccsmiracles.org
Avrohom Fried, Yossi Green, Yisroel Lamm, and other stars in the world of Jewish music have combined their unique talents to produce a theme song to benefit the many hundreds of cancer patients being assisted by RCCS, the Rofeh Cholim Cancer Society.
The theme, “I Believe in Miracles”, came as a result of so many former cancer patients expressing themselves as recipients of a miracle, funded and facilitated by RCCS. The recurrent theme of the song is a song of hope and a song of strength.
In fact, many of the great Rishonim have written how one’s acts of kindness can result in the creation of a “miracle”. We are taught time and time again never to give up hope, even if a “sharp sword is resting upon one’s throat”. And that is the story of the song, and that is the story of RCCS.
Yossi Green, one of the leading composers in contemporary Jewish music was inspired to compose the song as a result of his first-hand knowledge of the accomplishments of RCCS. When Avrohom Fried (arguably the leading singer in the Chassidic music field, today) heard the song, he readily agreed to take part in this Chessed undertaking. And for those who know Yisroel Lamm, it is easy to guess that he immediately agreed to arrange and conduct the music.
The result is obvious to anyone with a discerning ear. According to Yossi Green, this song may go down as one of the greatest in Avrohom Fried’s longstanding history of great hits.
To download this song by donating a minimum of $1.80 to RCCS, please go to:
www.rccsmiracles.org
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
News!
There's been a lot going on and each point here probably deserves its own blog post but like I said, too much going on and not too much free time.
Here are the highlights:
Invisible Me went into a SECOND PRINTING! That's awesome considering it's out less than a month! So thanks to everyone to bought a copy and made it shoot up the bestseller list.
I will be speaking in Montreal IY"H- changed my mind in the end. January 24 I'll be there at the Ezras Cholim party so if you're a blog reader from that side of the border make sure to come say hi!
Targum and I are still waiting for your reviews! Nothing professional- just a few sentences telling us what you thought (without giving away plot details of course!). We've resigned ourself to hearing all about readers who were up till 4am to finish- so go ahead, tell us about your sleepless night with Invisible Me!
And now that Invisible Me sold out we KNOW there are lots of you out there reading it so we'll be waiting to hear from you! Email your review to me at twinklebrite AT yahoo.com.
What else? I'd like to be writing another book but I'm kind of stuck with some writer's block so most of my days are split between playing around with a blank Word document and toilet training my son.
If there's anything else I'll be back to post! Right now my blank document is still waiting...
Here are the highlights:
Invisible Me went into a SECOND PRINTING! That's awesome considering it's out less than a month! So thanks to everyone to bought a copy and made it shoot up the bestseller list.
I will be speaking in Montreal IY"H- changed my mind in the end. January 24 I'll be there at the Ezras Cholim party so if you're a blog reader from that side of the border make sure to come say hi!
Targum and I are still waiting for your reviews! Nothing professional- just a few sentences telling us what you thought (without giving away plot details of course!). We've resigned ourself to hearing all about readers who were up till 4am to finish- so go ahead, tell us about your sleepless night with Invisible Me!
And now that Invisible Me sold out we KNOW there are lots of you out there reading it so we'll be waiting to hear from you! Email your review to me at twinklebrite AT yahoo.com.
What else? I'd like to be writing another book but I'm kind of stuck with some writer's block so most of my days are split between playing around with a blank Word document and toilet training my son.
If there's anything else I'll be back to post! Right now my blank document is still waiting...
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
London!
I'm back from my first speaking arrangement abroad!
Well I was back two days ago really, but you know how it is with jet lag....
Actually, there wasn't any time for jet lag. I left here just after Shabbos, got there Sunday lunchtime, spoke Sunday night, left early Monday morning and got back here Monday afternoon and went right from the airport to my nephew's wedding.
I've never done anything like this and it was a great experience even though I hope I never again have to do something like that in just a day.
I can't believe so many people really read and liked Miracle Ride enough to fly me across the Atlantic...
Had to back out of a trip to LA this weekend though. There's only so much traveling a young mother of two kids who are up all night can take in one week!
I still can't believe I did it!
I think there's so much more I wanted to say about it, but I can't remember what. I'll post again if my mind ever gets back from Great Britain.
Well I was back two days ago really, but you know how it is with jet lag....
Actually, there wasn't any time for jet lag. I left here just after Shabbos, got there Sunday lunchtime, spoke Sunday night, left early Monday morning and got back here Monday afternoon and went right from the airport to my nephew's wedding.
I've never done anything like this and it was a great experience even though I hope I never again have to do something like that in just a day.
I can't believe so many people really read and liked Miracle Ride enough to fly me across the Atlantic...
Had to back out of a trip to LA this weekend though. There's only so much traveling a young mother of two kids who are up all night can take in one week!
I still can't believe I did it!
I think there's so much more I wanted to say about it, but I can't remember what. I'll post again if my mind ever gets back from Great Britain.
Thursday, December 03, 2009
The Cutest Contest Entry So Far
Waiting to hear from readers out there! Click HERE for contest details.
Check out this "review"!
Dear Tzipi Caton,
I am so mad at you. My mother keeps ignoring me. She is reading this book and not paying any attention to me. So not fair! So don't write any more books, unless they are children's books. My mother says I am not old enough to read this one yet, maybe when I am bigger. Even though I am seven years old and I read on a fourth grade level. So you could write one for like fifth graders, that would be good. And when my mother finally came down to the kitchen, she still wasn't listening to me, so I said "I can tell, you're THINKING about INVISIBLE ME!" And then we both started laughing cuz she said I was right!
So to make me feel better, she said I could tell you how I am feeling...she said you might have more time to listen than she does right now.
Sincerely,
Chaya
Check out this "review"!
Dear Tzipi Caton,
I am so mad at you. My mother keeps ignoring me. She is reading this book and not paying any attention to me. So not fair! So don't write any more books, unless they are children's books. My mother says I am not old enough to read this one yet, maybe when I am bigger. Even though I am seven years old and I read on a fourth grade level. So you could write one for like fifth graders, that would be good. And when my mother finally came down to the kitchen, she still wasn't listening to me, so I said "I can tell, you're THINKING about INVISIBLE ME!" And then we both started laughing cuz she said I was right!
So to make me feel better, she said I could tell you how I am feeling...she said you might have more time to listen than she does right now.
Sincerely,
Chaya
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
Tell Me About It!
My book is on the shelves!!!! I saw it today!!! I even took a picture, hehe.
Now I want everyone to get their hands on a copy and read it, and I'll even offer you a good incentive to do so.
Targum and I are putting up a contest.
We're looking for the best review on Invisible Me.
We need readers to write up what they think about the book, why or why not they'd recommend it to others, what age group they think its appropriate for, what they enjoyed most, and of course, anything else they'd like to share about Invisible Me.
The only things you can't include are spoilers about the book. Please don't mention any specific incidents and of course, don't give away the ending!
All entries will be published on Targum's website, and together, my editors and I will choose our favorite one.
The contest is open from December 1, 2009 until January 31, 2010. Please send your entries to my email address, TwinkleBrite AT yahoo.com and don't forget to put REVIEW in the subject line.
Give us a name you'd like your review to be listed under and we'd like your age as well. (If you prefer your name and age not be mentioned, just say so and we'll keep it private, but you'll still need to send it in to be eligible to win.)
Now for the most important part, the PRIZE! Targum has generously offered to give our winner a 30% discount at Targum.com. Depending on how many reviews are submitted and how many excellent ones we'll need to choose from, we might consider runner ups, but for now, this is what you'll be competing for.
Check out Bas~Melech's review of my book to get an idea of what we are looking for. Thank you Bas~Melech for the great regards!
So dear fans- get reading cos I'll be waiting for your reviews!
-Tzipi
Now I want everyone to get their hands on a copy and read it, and I'll even offer you a good incentive to do so.
Targum and I are putting up a contest.
We're looking for the best review on Invisible Me.
We need readers to write up what they think about the book, why or why not they'd recommend it to others, what age group they think its appropriate for, what they enjoyed most, and of course, anything else they'd like to share about Invisible Me.
The only things you can't include are spoilers about the book. Please don't mention any specific incidents and of course, don't give away the ending!
All entries will be published on Targum's website, and together, my editors and I will choose our favorite one.
The contest is open from December 1, 2009 until January 31, 2010. Please send your entries to my email address, TwinkleBrite AT yahoo.com and don't forget to put REVIEW in the subject line.
Give us a name you'd like your review to be listed under and we'd like your age as well. (If you prefer your name and age not be mentioned, just say so and we'll keep it private, but you'll still need to send it in to be eligible to win.)
Now for the most important part, the PRIZE! Targum has generously offered to give our winner a 30% discount at Targum.com. Depending on how many reviews are submitted and how many excellent ones we'll need to choose from, we might consider runner ups, but for now, this is what you'll be competing for.
Check out Bas~Melech's review of my book to get an idea of what we are looking for. Thank you Bas~Melech for the great regards!
So dear fans- get reading cos I'll be waiting for your reviews!
-Tzipi
Monday, November 23, 2009
Economics Lesson
Gave my husband a lesson in economics.
He went to the grocery store and I told him I needed Motrin, but only the Extra Strength.
He told me the Extra Strength usually cost more and shouldn't he rather get the lower dose?
So I explained carefully that if he bought the lower dosage and I'd have to take four pills instead of the two Extra Strength I normally need, I'd finish twice as fast and then replacing that bottle would cost a lot more than just having the Extra Strengths to begin with.
I thought he understood but then he came home with four travel packs of Motrin each containing two low dose pills. Each travel pack cost a whopping 75 cents! He spent three dollars on what is essentially to me two doses, or about eight hours of toothache relief.
He said the store was all out of bottles and this was the only thing they had left.
When I lost my head about spending three dollars on two doses of Motrin when an entire bottle of 250 pills cost about $5, he calmly replied that if he'd come home without anything and saved the money he'd be up all night hearing me kvetch about my toothache.
So, he concluded, he didn't actually spend the $3 on meds for me. He spent three dollars on a guaranteed good night's sleep.
Economics indeed.
He went to the grocery store and I told him I needed Motrin, but only the Extra Strength.
He told me the Extra Strength usually cost more and shouldn't he rather get the lower dose?
So I explained carefully that if he bought the lower dosage and I'd have to take four pills instead of the two Extra Strength I normally need, I'd finish twice as fast and then replacing that bottle would cost a lot more than just having the Extra Strengths to begin with.
I thought he understood but then he came home with four travel packs of Motrin each containing two low dose pills. Each travel pack cost a whopping 75 cents! He spent three dollars on what is essentially to me two doses, or about eight hours of toothache relief.
He said the store was all out of bottles and this was the only thing they had left.
When I lost my head about spending three dollars on two doses of Motrin when an entire bottle of 250 pills cost about $5, he calmly replied that if he'd come home without anything and saved the money he'd be up all night hearing me kvetch about my toothache.
So, he concluded, he didn't actually spend the $3 on meds for me. He spent three dollars on a guaranteed good night's sleep.
Economics indeed.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Invisible Me
For all the nosey little fans out there already asking questions, here's some background on the new book.
One night, while I was in the middle of writing another novel (that I hope to get back to writing now IY"H,)I was in the mood of a challenge.
Writing was going too easily for me. It was just so simple to put the story to paper and I was bored.
So I came up with a concept. Not to write about mental illness, (as some people think is the point of this book), but to tell a story from inside the head of a girl who couldn't speak for herself.
I wondered if I could do it. If I could make a story happen, in first person narrative, from the perspective of a girl who could hear and feel but not add to a conversation. I wondered if I could tell her story and make things right for her and help her prove her worth even without her voice.
So Dini is a girl with Selective Mutism. The book though, is not about her disability. It isn't meant to be. The book is about relationships. Its about struggling to be heard and loved through the haze of things you say to fill empty spaces.
I wanted to see if I could have conversations without talking. And what it would look like if you only got to see one side; the side in Dini's head.
Targum Press did an excellent job with the book- they put different fonts for every time Dini writes a note and other fonts for the people in her life who write back. It's a fun book to read and also challenging.
Aside from the fun I had playing around with the literary side of it, it's emotional too. I wouldn't call it cheesy, because I don't go for the mushy stuff. (Unless we're talking chocolate cake in which case, bring it on!)
It's emotional just because it's frustrating living inside the mind of a bright, talented, otherwise normal girl, while being treated like a retard. My aim was to help the reader feel just as trapped as Dini is and feel along with her and see the story from her side.
The story is pure fiction. Like I said, it was just a dream on my part to challenge myself and see if I could do it. I'm bored of all the regular linear books out there. The plots are okay, but they all kind of mush together after a while. I wanted mine to stand out. Not so much because of the plot, but because you have to work to read it and so I hope it'll stay with readers a lot longer.
No, it's not another Miracle Ride. Nothing will ever be. But it's still worth reading. Not just because I wrote it, but because I really think it's good. *pats self on back*
So if you pick up a copy, let me know what you think!
One night, while I was in the middle of writing another novel (that I hope to get back to writing now IY"H,)I was in the mood of a challenge.
Writing was going too easily for me. It was just so simple to put the story to paper and I was bored.
So I came up with a concept. Not to write about mental illness, (as some people think is the point of this book), but to tell a story from inside the head of a girl who couldn't speak for herself.
I wondered if I could do it. If I could make a story happen, in first person narrative, from the perspective of a girl who could hear and feel but not add to a conversation. I wondered if I could tell her story and make things right for her and help her prove her worth even without her voice.
So Dini is a girl with Selective Mutism. The book though, is not about her disability. It isn't meant to be. The book is about relationships. Its about struggling to be heard and loved through the haze of things you say to fill empty spaces.
I wanted to see if I could have conversations without talking. And what it would look like if you only got to see one side; the side in Dini's head.
Targum Press did an excellent job with the book- they put different fonts for every time Dini writes a note and other fonts for the people in her life who write back. It's a fun book to read and also challenging.
Aside from the fun I had playing around with the literary side of it, it's emotional too. I wouldn't call it cheesy, because I don't go for the mushy stuff. (Unless we're talking chocolate cake in which case, bring it on!)
It's emotional just because it's frustrating living inside the mind of a bright, talented, otherwise normal girl, while being treated like a retard. My aim was to help the reader feel just as trapped as Dini is and feel along with her and see the story from her side.
The story is pure fiction. Like I said, it was just a dream on my part to challenge myself and see if I could do it. I'm bored of all the regular linear books out there. The plots are okay, but they all kind of mush together after a while. I wanted mine to stand out. Not so much because of the plot, but because you have to work to read it and so I hope it'll stay with readers a lot longer.
No, it's not another Miracle Ride. Nothing will ever be. But it's still worth reading. Not just because I wrote it, but because I really think it's good. *pats self on back*
So if you pick up a copy, let me know what you think!
NEW BOOK!!!
It's HERE!!!
I just got my Author's copy and if I do say so myself, it looks good!!!
Check it out here!
I just got my Author's copy and if I do say so myself, it looks good!!!
Check it out here!
Thursday, November 05, 2009
Vampires Suck
Edward Cullen- come and get me.
I went to donate blood today and no one wanted it!
I did everything; played nice, pleaded, begged, groveled, threatened to prick my own arm until they had to restrain me, but no cigar.
Parents lie to you to make you feel better, you know? When I was a kid and I was the only one covered head to toe with mosquito bites, my mother used to tell me I had "sweet blood" and that they all loved it.
But it can't be true. Because no one but those darned mosquitoes want it!
I think the Twilight franchise would go down the tubes if I offered the vampires my blood. They'd all be so horrified by it that they'd be turned off their love of blood like I was turned off sesame chicken on chemo and never look back.
The Jewish private blood drives never took my blood claiming they didn't want it after I'd had transfusions. Even though those transfusions were back in '03.
The place I went to today was horrified to hear that. They said it was illegal to turn down someone if it was more than a year since their last transfusion. They claimed that they needed blood donors badly enough that to turn away someone when the NY requirements said I was fine, was almost criminal. I was told by a regional director (named Carlos) that if anyone ever turned me down for that again, they could lose their license or something equally satisfying to me.
So don't ever say it to me again, you hear, because I got Carlos on my side.
But today it wasn't the transfusions stopping me.
I am a small person. I was built this way. There's nothing I can do to change the fact that I will probably never weigh enough to give a pint of blood to someone who needs it as badly as I once did.
I lied and said I was just a pound under the limit. I begged and said it was more like two pounds but could I please? I pleaded and said I was once a cancer patient and wanted to give back. I bargained and asked if I could just give red blood cells.
They put me on the scale. At a full eleven pounds under the limit, they gave me the free cookies out of pity but asked me to leave.
As a girl all I wanted was to be like my mother. The woman who helped build my father's business, raised nine kids by day, scrapbooked their pictures at night. Cooked one supper for us as a family and another every Sunday for Chai Lifeline. Ran with me to the hospital and then came home to PTA. Gave blood in the morning and then went rollerblading at night with us girls.
She's the goal I set all my life and I'm trying, even though I'll never match up. See, we have different blood types.
She's A- and I'm A+. So if it came down to it at the medical level- she won't ever want my blood either.
I'm feeling rejected.
Any vampires out there who like A+? My blood is looking for a good cause. If it can't be cancer kids, I don't mind Edward Cullen paying a visit...
I went to donate blood today and no one wanted it!
I did everything; played nice, pleaded, begged, groveled, threatened to prick my own arm until they had to restrain me, but no cigar.
Parents lie to you to make you feel better, you know? When I was a kid and I was the only one covered head to toe with mosquito bites, my mother used to tell me I had "sweet blood" and that they all loved it.
But it can't be true. Because no one but those darned mosquitoes want it!
I think the Twilight franchise would go down the tubes if I offered the vampires my blood. They'd all be so horrified by it that they'd be turned off their love of blood like I was turned off sesame chicken on chemo and never look back.
The Jewish private blood drives never took my blood claiming they didn't want it after I'd had transfusions. Even though those transfusions were back in '03.
The place I went to today was horrified to hear that. They said it was illegal to turn down someone if it was more than a year since their last transfusion. They claimed that they needed blood donors badly enough that to turn away someone when the NY requirements said I was fine, was almost criminal. I was told by a regional director (named Carlos) that if anyone ever turned me down for that again, they could lose their license or something equally satisfying to me.
So don't ever say it to me again, you hear, because I got Carlos on my side.
But today it wasn't the transfusions stopping me.
I am a small person. I was built this way. There's nothing I can do to change the fact that I will probably never weigh enough to give a pint of blood to someone who needs it as badly as I once did.
I lied and said I was just a pound under the limit. I begged and said it was more like two pounds but could I please? I pleaded and said I was once a cancer patient and wanted to give back. I bargained and asked if I could just give red blood cells.
They put me on the scale. At a full eleven pounds under the limit, they gave me the free cookies out of pity but asked me to leave.
As a girl all I wanted was to be like my mother. The woman who helped build my father's business, raised nine kids by day, scrapbooked their pictures at night. Cooked one supper for us as a family and another every Sunday for Chai Lifeline. Ran with me to the hospital and then came home to PTA. Gave blood in the morning and then went rollerblading at night with us girls.
She's the goal I set all my life and I'm trying, even though I'll never match up. See, we have different blood types.
She's A- and I'm A+. So if it came down to it at the medical level- she won't ever want my blood either.
I'm feeling rejected.
Any vampires out there who like A+? My blood is looking for a good cause. If it can't be cancer kids, I don't mind Edward Cullen paying a visit...
Wednesday, November 04, 2009
Bro Scores, Yanks Win!
Who flipping cares?
Don't get me wrong, I like the outdoors, I love playing games, I know all the rules. But rooting for some idiot who makes three million a year to hit a ball? C'mon. I don't even know the guy! And does he even care if I root for him or not? No! Cos he don't know me from beans either.
But still at my brother's wedding, there were all the guys, (and many of the gals I must add), on their blackberry's watching the game live on Fox.
As my brother was on stage swaying and praying, his friends in the audience were jumping with nerves as they watched the innings go down.
Every so often you had some kid, or half the assembled, pump a fist in the air and holler "Go YANKS! Whoooooooop whooooop!"
We're talking during the chuppah.
I would like to say I didn't see my brother's eyes flick up once or twice, inquiring about the score, but I can't be sure.
(Just kidding! My brother isn't into sports at all.)
Stupid sick people.
Well the Yanks won and the wedding was great and the couple is cute and my gown was nice and I had a miserable time with my cranky kids who are NEVER coming to a wedding with me again, so all is well, but reality check anyone?
Don't get me wrong, I like the outdoors, I love playing games, I know all the rules. But rooting for some idiot who makes three million a year to hit a ball? C'mon. I don't even know the guy! And does he even care if I root for him or not? No! Cos he don't know me from beans either.
But still at my brother's wedding, there were all the guys, (and many of the gals I must add), on their blackberry's watching the game live on Fox.
As my brother was on stage swaying and praying, his friends in the audience were jumping with nerves as they watched the innings go down.
Every so often you had some kid, or half the assembled, pump a fist in the air and holler "Go YANKS! Whoooooooop whooooop!"
We're talking during the chuppah.
I would like to say I didn't see my brother's eyes flick up once or twice, inquiring about the score, but I can't be sure.
(Just kidding! My brother isn't into sports at all.)
Stupid sick people.
Well the Yanks won and the wedding was great and the couple is cute and my gown was nice and I had a miserable time with my cranky kids who are NEVER coming to a wedding with me again, so all is well, but reality check anyone?
Friday, October 23, 2009
Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
Got a call from the mother of a really depressed little girl losing her hair. We needed to find a way to cheer her up.
I sent her a clown sheitel with this poem:
So you wake up one morning and your hair starts to go
its all over your pillow and blanket and clothes
its itchy and depressing and feels so bad,
but it doesn't have to make you sad.
Yes, this may be the part where chemo takes over,
but its a great excuse for a make-over!
Have very straight hair and want to give curls a turn?
Get a sheitel with a nice frizzy perm
Or are you tired of breaking brushes in your curly messes?
Time for a straight look with easy smooth tresses
Like long and short, but cant decide which one?
Get two sets of hair and switch around for fun!
Go to school every day and make your friends guess
What way you decide to wear your hair next.
What about color? Would you look good as a blonde?
You never know, go try one on!
Black or brown might suit your head,
Go try some one, or what about red?
Or orange or purple with highlights green or blue.
What do you think? It's up to you!
I know your real hair is hard to part with,
but here's some new hair just to start with.
I sent her a clown sheitel with this poem:
So you wake up one morning and your hair starts to go
its all over your pillow and blanket and clothes
its itchy and depressing and feels so bad,
but it doesn't have to make you sad.
Yes, this may be the part where chemo takes over,
but its a great excuse for a make-over!
Have very straight hair and want to give curls a turn?
Get a sheitel with a nice frizzy perm
Or are you tired of breaking brushes in your curly messes?
Time for a straight look with easy smooth tresses
Like long and short, but cant decide which one?
Get two sets of hair and switch around for fun!
Go to school every day and make your friends guess
What way you decide to wear your hair next.
What about color? Would you look good as a blonde?
You never know, go try one on!
Black or brown might suit your head,
Go try some one, or what about red?
Or orange or purple with highlights green or blue.
What do you think? It's up to you!
I know your real hair is hard to part with,
but here's some new hair just to start with.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The Truth
It's been on my mind a while, but I never said anything because I don't know what to do about it really.
I'm not "Me" anymore.
The reason I decided to actually post about this is because tonight I've been skimming through some old emails and found one written by a fellow blogger (Though I doubt she still reads my post after that email she sent me) telling me that since my book came out I've become different. She said I used to be funny and spunky and now I was some big headed speaker and writer who enjoyed being full of myself.
So she's not wrong. I like being full of myself. But serisously, I know what she means and I know why it happened.
When this blog began I was a kid. It was read by only my friends and those that weren't my friends had no idea who I was. I kvetched about chemo and talked miserably about those annoying chessed doers and said funny things to Santa Claus when he tried to give me X-mas gifts. And I was allowed to say all that, because who was I? I was just some anonymous stinker writing a blog.
Suddenly, I'm not anonymous anymore. And there's this pressure. This need to conform and this fear of saying all that stuff I used to, of being the pain in the neck teen I used to be.
But in real life I'm not this way, so it irks me.
Because in the life I really lead these crazy things are still happening to me and I'm still sassing back and enjoying every minute of it.
But I can't quite post on the blog how my son sings "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" every time I mention my mother-in-law, can I?
And I'm sure my husband would find it weird if I told you he knocked himself out by opening the car door while he was texting and hit himself on the head and needed me to drive his dizzy bleeding self to get stitches.
I could tell you how my sukkah blew away two weeks ago but not about the snooty conversation I had with the con-ed guy.
Cos now my blog is more real. And I'm afraid of hurting people and afraid of hurting myself.
It was very hard after Miracle Ride was published and people began judging me, the real me, for all the things I said there. I found this last year and a half I was busy defending myself to annoying readers who thought they had a right to judge me and my story. There were lots of compliments too, don't worry, but I'm sick of trying to be a nice normal girl for all the people who feel they have to comment all the time.
I miss the days where I could just rant to the world about my insane life. Cos my life is funny. Always good for a laugh. But now that you guys all know me, it's different.
But now I started finding my posts kind of boring. Like each one had to have a lesson, like I'm some sort of rebbetzin. In fact, someone so close to me started calling me "Rebbetzin" and it bothers me, because our friendship isn't the same as it was.
I want to be able to post funny stuff again, randomly, for no reason. Think you'd still read my blog if I did? Or would you call me a hypocrite or wishy washy or any of those other names people have called me in this last year and a half?
I'm afraid of being Me again. People think that I'm something I'm not and for the last year plus I've been trying to live to that standard but I can see it just aint working.
So I want to rewind. Go back to being that crazy person who never gets it right. My blog used to tell this story of my weird and funny life. Maybe I can do it again?
I sure wanna try, but I'm still not sure how to do it. Lots of what happens in my life involves real people and real emotions and I'm afraid of hurting them.
Bas-Melech, in a comment to my last post, congratulated me on rejoining the masses. Now I want to do so for real.
But I don't know how. And I need your advice. Please be kind.
And that's the truth.
I'm not "Me" anymore.
The reason I decided to actually post about this is because tonight I've been skimming through some old emails and found one written by a fellow blogger (Though I doubt she still reads my post after that email she sent me) telling me that since my book came out I've become different. She said I used to be funny and spunky and now I was some big headed speaker and writer who enjoyed being full of myself.
So she's not wrong. I like being full of myself. But serisously, I know what she means and I know why it happened.
When this blog began I was a kid. It was read by only my friends and those that weren't my friends had no idea who I was. I kvetched about chemo and talked miserably about those annoying chessed doers and said funny things to Santa Claus when he tried to give me X-mas gifts. And I was allowed to say all that, because who was I? I was just some anonymous stinker writing a blog.
Suddenly, I'm not anonymous anymore. And there's this pressure. This need to conform and this fear of saying all that stuff I used to, of being the pain in the neck teen I used to be.
But in real life I'm not this way, so it irks me.
Because in the life I really lead these crazy things are still happening to me and I'm still sassing back and enjoying every minute of it.
But I can't quite post on the blog how my son sings "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" every time I mention my mother-in-law, can I?
And I'm sure my husband would find it weird if I told you he knocked himself out by opening the car door while he was texting and hit himself on the head and needed me to drive his dizzy bleeding self to get stitches.
I could tell you how my sukkah blew away two weeks ago but not about the snooty conversation I had with the con-ed guy.
Cos now my blog is more real. And I'm afraid of hurting people and afraid of hurting myself.
It was very hard after Miracle Ride was published and people began judging me, the real me, for all the things I said there. I found this last year and a half I was busy defending myself to annoying readers who thought they had a right to judge me and my story. There were lots of compliments too, don't worry, but I'm sick of trying to be a nice normal girl for all the people who feel they have to comment all the time.
I miss the days where I could just rant to the world about my insane life. Cos my life is funny. Always good for a laugh. But now that you guys all know me, it's different.
But now I started finding my posts kind of boring. Like each one had to have a lesson, like I'm some sort of rebbetzin. In fact, someone so close to me started calling me "Rebbetzin" and it bothers me, because our friendship isn't the same as it was.
I want to be able to post funny stuff again, randomly, for no reason. Think you'd still read my blog if I did? Or would you call me a hypocrite or wishy washy or any of those other names people have called me in this last year and a half?
I'm afraid of being Me again. People think that I'm something I'm not and for the last year plus I've been trying to live to that standard but I can see it just aint working.
So I want to rewind. Go back to being that crazy person who never gets it right. My blog used to tell this story of my weird and funny life. Maybe I can do it again?
I sure wanna try, but I'm still not sure how to do it. Lots of what happens in my life involves real people and real emotions and I'm afraid of hurting them.
Bas-Melech, in a comment to my last post, congratulated me on rejoining the masses. Now I want to do so for real.
But I don't know how. And I need your advice. Please be kind.
And that's the truth.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
A Dressing Down
People think that just because I was sick and got over it that nothing small in my life ever gets to me. That unless it's something hugely monumental happening, it has no effect.
Let me assure you, that is not the case.
People email me all the time and preface by saying, "you probably think I'm crazy or overreacting, compared to all you went through," and sometimes, yeah, you might be overreacting, but hey, sometimes I hyperventilate too.
And it doesn't make me a shallow person. It makes me normal.
Yes, five years ago I was fighting for my life, but now I'm living my life. And part of life are the frustrating little bits that can bring me to tears a lot faster than chemo did.
For example, (and if anyone dares to laugh at my misery, I will ban you from reading this blog,) take Sunday.
I was up Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights with my baby who is teething (yet again). Motzai Shabbos we were at an all time record where I was up six times between one and four in the morning and then up at six for the day.
At three thirty I ran out with my mother and sister, leaving the husband with both kids so that I could go to my last gown fitting before the brother's wedding.
Guess what. The gown don't fit.
I don't know if it was just made wrong, taken in wrong, or I'm built wrong, but that thing didn't look right no matter what we did.
I am not a picky person when it comes to these things, and spent the next two hours trying on 25 other dresses. Nothing doing.
Everything was too big or too fluffy or too nightgowny-looking, and almost all of them made me look thirteen. In fact, when my mother saw some girl trying on a stunning gown that she thought I'd look nice in, the girl was thirteen.
When after two hours, at closing time,I still had no gown, I threw a temper tantrum in the gown place.
I know, real mature.
I was sobbing all over some huge fluffy dress at how I was up since some unholy hour and now I was going to look ugly at my brother's wedding and no one cared and I just wasn't going to come, and I hated looking like I was still in high school...you get the picture.
So in a last-minute-no-choice-in-the-matter decision, we ran to another bridal shop that rents for DOUBLE the amount I was spending before (and it was NOT cheap to begin with, mind you!) and within fifteen minutes rented another gown.
I still came home and cried all night.
What? I'm entitled to want to feel pretty at the wedding! I never got to wear a gown before! I missed most of my sister's wedding to give birth to JB and I was really looking forward to being pretty next week.
One of the things I learned when I was sick was that no one has it easy. It doesn't matter that I had Hodgkins' and that my friend had a brain tumor, we were both suffering. Who's to say that one of us suffered more? How would you know?
Sure, crying about dresses might have seemed petty to me when I was bald and attached to an IV pole all the time, but hey, I would have given anything to be so innocent. I'd have loved for the most devastating thing in my life to be about a dress.
So I'm going to take this whole gown fiasco as an excuse to be grateful. I'm so happy that I'm at a time in my life where I can cry over a silly gown. I'm healthy, I have two cutie kids, a wonderful husband (who made my daughter a bottle with RICE instead of FORMULA)and in the end, a great gown to dance in at that wedding.
I used to feel awkward around those "shallow" people in my life, but for once, I can appreciate being one of them.
(what JB is wearing to the wedding. Couldn't resist.)
Let me assure you, that is not the case.
People email me all the time and preface by saying, "you probably think I'm crazy or overreacting, compared to all you went through," and sometimes, yeah, you might be overreacting, but hey, sometimes I hyperventilate too.
And it doesn't make me a shallow person. It makes me normal.
Yes, five years ago I was fighting for my life, but now I'm living my life. And part of life are the frustrating little bits that can bring me to tears a lot faster than chemo did.
For example, (and if anyone dares to laugh at my misery, I will ban you from reading this blog,) take Sunday.
I was up Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday nights with my baby who is teething (yet again). Motzai Shabbos we were at an all time record where I was up six times between one and four in the morning and then up at six for the day.
At three thirty I ran out with my mother and sister, leaving the husband with both kids so that I could go to my last gown fitting before the brother's wedding.
Guess what. The gown don't fit.
I don't know if it was just made wrong, taken in wrong, or I'm built wrong, but that thing didn't look right no matter what we did.
I am not a picky person when it comes to these things, and spent the next two hours trying on 25 other dresses. Nothing doing.
Everything was too big or too fluffy or too nightgowny-looking, and almost all of them made me look thirteen. In fact, when my mother saw some girl trying on a stunning gown that she thought I'd look nice in, the girl was thirteen.
When after two hours, at closing time,I still had no gown, I threw a temper tantrum in the gown place.
I know, real mature.
I was sobbing all over some huge fluffy dress at how I was up since some unholy hour and now I was going to look ugly at my brother's wedding and no one cared and I just wasn't going to come, and I hated looking like I was still in high school...you get the picture.
So in a last-minute-no-choice-in-the-matter decision, we ran to another bridal shop that rents for DOUBLE the amount I was spending before (and it was NOT cheap to begin with, mind you!) and within fifteen minutes rented another gown.
I still came home and cried all night.
What? I'm entitled to want to feel pretty at the wedding! I never got to wear a gown before! I missed most of my sister's wedding to give birth to JB and I was really looking forward to being pretty next week.
One of the things I learned when I was sick was that no one has it easy. It doesn't matter that I had Hodgkins' and that my friend had a brain tumor, we were both suffering. Who's to say that one of us suffered more? How would you know?
Sure, crying about dresses might have seemed petty to me when I was bald and attached to an IV pole all the time, but hey, I would have given anything to be so innocent. I'd have loved for the most devastating thing in my life to be about a dress.
So I'm going to take this whole gown fiasco as an excuse to be grateful. I'm so happy that I'm at a time in my life where I can cry over a silly gown. I'm healthy, I have two cutie kids, a wonderful husband (who made my daughter a bottle with RICE instead of FORMULA)and in the end, a great gown to dance in at that wedding.
I used to feel awkward around those "shallow" people in my life, but for once, I can appreciate being one of them.
(what JB is wearing to the wedding. Couldn't resist.)
Thursday, October 01, 2009
New Article Out!
Check out my short story/article in the Mishpacha's Teen Pages this week. It's called The FBI.
Lemme know what y'all think!
Lemme know what y'all think!
Monday, September 28, 2009
Just as Holy
I spent Erev Yom Kippur in tears.
It was just nerves, I think. I always get this way before a fast. There's this anticipation of what it will turn out like, all these questions and worries in my mind. Will I fast okay? Will the kids behave? Will I manage them on my own? Will I get to daven? All that stuff and just general nerves of getting everything right.
This year nothing went right.
The day before was just a disaster, with my son kvetchy and bratty since the wee hours of the morning (he's still getting over a flu he had last week). I had to entertain him, plus do a mountain of laundry, (my daughter has some reflux and she vomits indiscriminately,) plus take care of baths for everyone and the meals and telling all the neighbor girls that no, it was not a good time for them to take a guided tour of my home.
(Why is it that they are all so enamored by our little family? There are a million girls on the block that each have great toy rooms and games and yet they all want to play with JB's trucks?!)
I bentched lecht, put the kids to bed, and exhausted, fell asleep with my machzor in my hands.
Upon waking half an hour later I found I was miserable. It's been years since I've missed a Kol Nidrei in shul. And this year I didn't even want to go.
I sat there in front of my lecht and just cried at how Yom Kippur didn't feel the same to me- I was in my robe, wearing a shmattah velour hoodie on top of it, and not even in a sheitel. The white tichel that I wore with so much pride all the years sat in my drawer all yom tov. I didn't put my sheitel on once today.
I spent the entire day on the floor playing with Tonka trucks. My machzor in one hand as I tried to daven, the mini wheels garbage truck in the other, crashing into JB's emergency vehicle, keeping him quiet.
My kids ate junk today and I didn't care. I forgot to turn off the light in my fridge, so all the nutritional stuff I prepared erev YT just stayed there. JB ate potato chips and sandwiches and lots and lots of Twerps, and HB had a bunch of formula bottles and not an ounce of real food except for the Craisins JB generously fed her while I was in the middle of my Al Chaits.
And when my kids both went down for a nap, I did too. My tehillim this year didn't even make it off the shelf.
It just didn't feel like Yom Kippur to me.
Then my mother popped by on the way back to shul after the break between Shacharis and Mussaf and when she asked how my fast was going and I told her how I felt, she said it was okay.
That I had my years in shul as a teen, and I'll have them again when my kids are teens. But now my place is at home.
She's right, I know. It just took a lot of getting used to. I'm still not sure I'm used to the idea and next year won't be any easier not being in shul for Unesaneh Tokef. But the truth is... well, that's the truth.
For me Yom Kippur is the avodah I do with my children all day. Feeding them, playing with them, singing songs and reading playgroup "shailos" thousands of times makes this day just as holy for me as being in shul makes it for everyone else.
So when my mother left and I took my nap and then woke up and took the kids outside to play, I didn't let myself feel bad. I fasted, I davened, and I made two kids happy today.
Other years I prayed for these two kids, this year they're here with me. What more can I want?
So the holiest day of my year smelled like peanut butter and spit up, instead of leather bindings and old machzor pages.
Guess what. G-d gave me a job. And He made me a mom to two very special and wonderful kids. And that makes me heilig. Even when I spent Yom Kippur playing with trucks.
May we all see the kedusha in everything we do this year.
Have a gut gebentched yahr everyone.
Oh, and two updates.
#1 - HB finally got her place in the nosh cabinet. She's not really a jelly ring like we first thought she might be. She's BUBBLES. (Short for BubbleGum) She answers to it and the neighbors call her that, so it's official. JellyBean's sister is Bubbles.
And #2 - Tzipi's next book is due out Chanukah time. It's titled "Invisible Me" and being published by Targum Press IY"H. I'll keep you posted!
It was just nerves, I think. I always get this way before a fast. There's this anticipation of what it will turn out like, all these questions and worries in my mind. Will I fast okay? Will the kids behave? Will I manage them on my own? Will I get to daven? All that stuff and just general nerves of getting everything right.
This year nothing went right.
The day before was just a disaster, with my son kvetchy and bratty since the wee hours of the morning (he's still getting over a flu he had last week). I had to entertain him, plus do a mountain of laundry, (my daughter has some reflux and she vomits indiscriminately,) plus take care of baths for everyone and the meals and telling all the neighbor girls that no, it was not a good time for them to take a guided tour of my home.
(Why is it that they are all so enamored by our little family? There are a million girls on the block that each have great toy rooms and games and yet they all want to play with JB's trucks?!)
I bentched lecht, put the kids to bed, and exhausted, fell asleep with my machzor in my hands.
Upon waking half an hour later I found I was miserable. It's been years since I've missed a Kol Nidrei in shul. And this year I didn't even want to go.
I sat there in front of my lecht and just cried at how Yom Kippur didn't feel the same to me- I was in my robe, wearing a shmattah velour hoodie on top of it, and not even in a sheitel. The white tichel that I wore with so much pride all the years sat in my drawer all yom tov. I didn't put my sheitel on once today.
I spent the entire day on the floor playing with Tonka trucks. My machzor in one hand as I tried to daven, the mini wheels garbage truck in the other, crashing into JB's emergency vehicle, keeping him quiet.
My kids ate junk today and I didn't care. I forgot to turn off the light in my fridge, so all the nutritional stuff I prepared erev YT just stayed there. JB ate potato chips and sandwiches and lots and lots of Twerps, and HB had a bunch of formula bottles and not an ounce of real food except for the Craisins JB generously fed her while I was in the middle of my Al Chaits.
And when my kids both went down for a nap, I did too. My tehillim this year didn't even make it off the shelf.
It just didn't feel like Yom Kippur to me.
Then my mother popped by on the way back to shul after the break between Shacharis and Mussaf and when she asked how my fast was going and I told her how I felt, she said it was okay.
That I had my years in shul as a teen, and I'll have them again when my kids are teens. But now my place is at home.
She's right, I know. It just took a lot of getting used to. I'm still not sure I'm used to the idea and next year won't be any easier not being in shul for Unesaneh Tokef. But the truth is... well, that's the truth.
For me Yom Kippur is the avodah I do with my children all day. Feeding them, playing with them, singing songs and reading playgroup "shailos" thousands of times makes this day just as holy for me as being in shul makes it for everyone else.
So when my mother left and I took my nap and then woke up and took the kids outside to play, I didn't let myself feel bad. I fasted, I davened, and I made two kids happy today.
Other years I prayed for these two kids, this year they're here with me. What more can I want?
So the holiest day of my year smelled like peanut butter and spit up, instead of leather bindings and old machzor pages.
Guess what. G-d gave me a job. And He made me a mom to two very special and wonderful kids. And that makes me heilig. Even when I spent Yom Kippur playing with trucks.
May we all see the kedusha in everything we do this year.
Have a gut gebentched yahr everyone.
Oh, and two updates.
#1 - HB finally got her place in the nosh cabinet. She's not really a jelly ring like we first thought she might be. She's BUBBLES. (Short for BubbleGum) She answers to it and the neighbors call her that, so it's official. JellyBean's sister is Bubbles.
And #2 - Tzipi's next book is due out Chanukah time. It's titled "Invisible Me" and being published by Targum Press IY"H. I'll keep you posted!
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