sometimes all you can do
is just be there
and hope that the people you care
will know.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
NFTY, the Common Cold, Owl Eyes, and Pink Shirts.
This weekend is my third NFTY Fall weekend.
How weird is that?
Last year, I felt like NFTY Fall was my Jewish life coming full circle. So then what is this? Double circle? Venn diagram? I don't know.
I think feeling down is contagious. I think it's contagious the same way that laughs and chicken pox and yawning is contagious. And I don't even think I have any reason to feel down. Maybe it's just a mix of my notorious tendency to be impatient, a lack of text message response by a certain special someone, and worrying about my adorable Popop. I really don't know. I seem to say that a lot, and it's even starting to bother me. Why on earth don't I know? Fuck.
I also saw a college consultant today. Quite a card, that lady. Living with her husband in a tiny little cottage overlooking La Jolla, probably one of the most expensive pieces of real estate in southern California. Smiling and waving from her bookshelf was John McCain and Sarah Palin, so I knew that of course we'd get along. Oh, if only you could type sarcasm. But she was one of those sweet right wing nutjobs, like the type that thinks gay culture can be summarized by the Queer Eye guys and contained within the ghettos of Los Angeles and New York City. She was rather audacious as well. I'd say the most memorable moment involved her looking directly at me, pushing over a bowl of Swedish Fish, and asking, "Have you ever met a gay?" It was delightful. I really had to stop myself from choking, laughing, and tearing up all at the same time.
Shalom Shalom. I don't know why you say shalom, I say shalom.
How weird is that?
Last year, I felt like NFTY Fall was my Jewish life coming full circle. So then what is this? Double circle? Venn diagram? I don't know.
I think feeling down is contagious. I think it's contagious the same way that laughs and chicken pox and yawning is contagious. And I don't even think I have any reason to feel down. Maybe it's just a mix of my notorious tendency to be impatient, a lack of text message response by a certain special someone, and worrying about my adorable Popop. I really don't know. I seem to say that a lot, and it's even starting to bother me. Why on earth don't I know? Fuck.
I also saw a college consultant today. Quite a card, that lady. Living with her husband in a tiny little cottage overlooking La Jolla, probably one of the most expensive pieces of real estate in southern California. Smiling and waving from her bookshelf was John McCain and Sarah Palin, so I knew that of course we'd get along. Oh, if only you could type sarcasm. But she was one of those sweet right wing nutjobs, like the type that thinks gay culture can be summarized by the Queer Eye guys and contained within the ghettos of Los Angeles and New York City. She was rather audacious as well. I'd say the most memorable moment involved her looking directly at me, pushing over a bowl of Swedish Fish, and asking, "Have you ever met a gay?" It was delightful. I really had to stop myself from choking, laughing, and tearing up all at the same time.
Shalom Shalom. I don't know why you say shalom, I say shalom.
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