What I believe

When I volunteered at the USO for seven years, I was told to be careful when discussing three topics with the sailors who come to town: Religion, Politics and money (or was it something else? I forget). Of course I engaged only in conversations dealing with religion and politics because I definitely didn't know anything about money at the time.

So this blog had taken a turn into those forbidden topics and look what happens, everyone comes to visit as if I were discussing money.

Ok, that wasn't my intention. I use this blog as an outlet to vent and post my rants, not a place to argue or engage in preparations for a full blown World War III. Heck, I'm a freaking pacifist. Or at least I'd like to be. So my apologies to the audience and commentators for causing any frustration or anger towards others. I did not mean to cause a rift in this blog world. I like people to get along.

I'm not a religious person. I'm Jewish. Or as my co-worker, WL refers to my tribe - "You're not foolish, you're not sheepish, you're not Catholicish, you're not Muslemish, you're ...Jewish." As he lifts his hand and shakes it slowly, "You're somewhat of a Jew.... Jewish." [And this is the person who just proposed to his Jewish girlfriend. I wish him MAZAL TOV!]

Being Jewish means I belong to the Jewish Nation (which could open a whole new war on my blog, but for now, we'll just leave it at that). I consider myself an apathetic agnostic Jew. Or in better words: "Don't know, don't care, if there is a God - there's only one."

I believe that people on earth are divided to two major types (plus another million sub-types): religious and non-religious. I believe that some people were born into the wrong type and would be better off switching considering their personality and human nature. So some people could benefit from a structured way of life and guidelines that religion provides, and some people could benefit from a non-structured life where they don't end up following the wrong leader blindly.

I have people in my family who have turned from being atheists into religious, and vice versa. They all made the right choice in my opinion. It was the right choice for them.

I disagree that without religion there'll be no guidelines to live our lives. There's one guideline I need as an Agnostic person - don't do unto others what you don't want done unto you. It's a very simple guideline and pretty much defines all morals that should be maintained. It defines what is considered "wrong" and what is considered "right." You don't like people to lie to you - don't lie. You don't like people to kill you - don't kill. You don't like people stealing your stuff - don't steal. Very very simple concepts. Everything else can then fall into the category of morally acceptable by the majority in the place where you live. If you live in a country where it's okay to give bribery - then it's not an issue. If you live in a country where it's okay to belch out loud - then it's not an issue (but damn it, lay off the garlic when you do!).

I have many friends who are religious and have told me that I come across more spiritual than themselves. I'm not too sure what "spiritual" really means. I only know that I don't need a God in my life to do the right thing. I don't need to blame God for everything gone wrong. I don't need to bless God for anything that's right. I can take responsibility for the wrong and the right without a God entering the formula.

This isn't to say that I think any less of those who choose religion, and this isn't to say I disagree with their choice. To each his own. As long as they don't judge me, or force me to live their way - I'm fine with it.

I could write another long thesis on religion, but this is in a nutshell.

Next post will be about "money."

Or not.

Muhammed and Jerusalem

In response to a comment to my earlier post that says "So prophet Muhammad did get to Jerusalem and ascended to heaven from there" I would like to clarify this a bit to those who are not familiar with what happened.

The event of Muhammed getting to Jerusalem and ascending to heaven could only be confirmed by Muhammed himself. There was no physical journey that he made with other followers all the way from Mecca to Jerusalem. There is no historical document (e.g. Dead Sea Scrolls, Josephus, etc) describing this, and it is only referenced in the Koran in Sura 17 - "Night Journey." No one else was witness to this journey. There are no archeological findings to support Muhammad's visit to Jerusalem. And as explained in an earlier post, there is no mention of Jerusalem in the Koran. That is a latter interpretation of the words "farthest mosque."

In the Koran, it is written that in one night the Prophet Muhammed was transported from the temple at Mecca to a remote mosque and back to Mecca, but no details are given of the strange journey.


THE NIGHT JOURNEY

سبحان الذي أسرى بعبده ليلاً من المسجد الحرام إلى المسجد الأقصى الذي باركنا حوله
Koran sura 17: Night Journey Of Mecca Celebrated be the praises of Him who took His servant a journey by night from the Sacred Mosque to the Farthest Mosque, the precinct of which we have blessed, to show him of our signs! verily, He both hears and looks.

THE STORY GOES...

Muhammed rested in Kaaba, which is in Mecca (Saudi Arabia of today). While he slept, Gabriel, the angel, came to him, and brought him the winged steed Buraq, a winged white animal from Paradise, greater in size than a donkey but lesser than a mule, with wings on its hind legs. The Buraq carried Muhammad the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, where he got off Buraq, tied it up, and led other prophets in prayer. He then got back on Buraq, and was taken to the heavens, where he toured heaven and hell, and spoke with the earlier prophets, and with Allah. Allah told him to enjoin the Muslims to pray fifty times a day; however, Moses told Muhammad that they would never do it, and urged Muhammad to go back several times and ask for a reduction, until finally it was reduced to five times a day.

Afterwards, the unbelieving Meccans regarded this as absurd, and some went to Abu Bakr and told him "Look at what your companion is saying. He says he went to Jerusalem and came back in one night." Abu Bakr told them, "If he said that, then he is truthful. I believe him concerning the news of the heavens — that an angel descends to him from the heavens. How could I not believe he went to Jerusalem and came back in a short period of time — when these are on earth?" It was for this that Abu Bakr is said to have received his nickname "as-Siddiq", the believer.

Since the Prophet himself did not leave any clear-cut explanation of this experience, Muslim thinkers - including the Prophet's Companions - have always widely differed as to its true nature.

The great majority of the Companions believed that both the Night Journey and the Ascension were physical occurrences - in other words, that the Prophet was borne bodily to Jerusalem and then to heaven - while a minority were convinced that the experience was purely spiritual. Among the latter we find, in particular, the name of Ayesha, the Prophet's widow and most intimate companion of his later years, who declared emphatically that "he was transported only in his spirit (bi-ruhihi), while his body did not leave its place" (cf. Tabari, Zamakhshari and Ibn Kathir in their commentaries on 17: 1); the great Al-Hasan al-Basri, who belonged to the next generation, held uncompromisingly to the same view.

CHRONOLOGICAL TURN OF EVENTS:

1000 BCE: Jerusalem made Capital of David's Kingdom.

960 BCE: First Temple, the national and spiritual center of the Jewish people, built in Jerusalem by King Solomon.

586 BCE: Judah conquered by Babylonia; Jerusalem and First Temple destroyed; most Jews exiled to Babylonia.

538-515 BCE: Many Jews return from Babylonia; Temple rebuilt. ("Second Temple").

0 BCE/AD: JESUS and Christianity begin.

70 AD: Destruction of Jerusalem and Second Temple by the Romans. All that remained is the Western Wall (Wailing Wall).

1000 BCE through 636 AD: Jerusalem ruled (in this order) by Israelites, Persians, Greeks, Romans, Byzantine Empire, Persians.

622 AD: The Night Journey occured.

• At the time this verse of the Quran was recited many muslims understood the phrase "furthest mosque" as a poetic phrase for a mosque already known to them, a mosque in Heaven, or as a metaphor.
  For the following reasons, they find it unlikely that this verse referred to a location in Jerusalem:
  There were already two places that Muslim tradition of that time period called "the furthest mosque"; one was the mosque in Medina (Arthur Jeffrey, The Suppressed Quran Commentary of Muhammad Abu Zaid, Der Islam, 20 (1932): 306) and the other was the mosque in the town of Jirana, which Muhammed is said to have visited in 630. (Alfred Guillaume, Where Was Al-Masjid Al-Aqsa? Al-Andalus, (18) 1953: 323–36)

632 AD: Muhammad died.

638 AD: Caliph Umar I captured Jerusalem from the Persians.

• Seeing the magnificent Church of the Holy Sepulchre built by Constantine in 335 A.D. and well aware of how sacred the city was to both the Christians and the Jews, Umar declared that the city was sacred to the Muslims as well. Needing a rationale, he searched the Koran and zeroed in on Sura 17. The "Furthermost Point" (al-masjid al-Aqsa) of Sura 17, where Mohammed ascended to heaven, was, Umar decreed, none other than the Jews' holiest of holies, the Temple Mount in Jerusalem.

715 AD: The Umayyads built a new mosque on the Temple Mount; they named this Mosque al-masjid al-aqsa, the Al-Aqsa Mosque or "furthest mosque". AL Tibawi, a Palestinian historian, argues that this action "gave reality to the figurative name used in the Koran." (AL Tibawi, Jerusalem: Its Place in Islam and Arab History, Beirut: Institute for Palestine Studies, 1969, p. 9.)



I have no doubt that Muslims today regard Jerusalem as important, but until they acknowledge that it was sacred to the Jews long before their ancestors invaded it and declared it holy to them, and until they acknowledge our historical right to live in Israel with Jerusalem as our Capitol (as it has been for hundreds of years before the Arabs invaded it) - there is no hope for peace between Abrahams descendents.

The photos of the "farthest mosque" shown on this website are evidence enough to prove that the Muslims did not consider it as the most sacred place of worship until last century. In fact, the most holiest place for Muslims is still considered to be in Mecca, quite far from Jerusalem, if I might say so.

Strangely enough, the Christians have a much stronger physical claim on Jerusalem and many other holy sites in Israel - yet they do not proclaim it in the same manner that Arabs do - they do not call for the destruction of our country or the deaths of millions of Jews just for the purpose of being able to worship in their holy places.

The claim for Jerusalem by the Muslims following the Iranian president, is based purely on hatred of the Jews and nothing else. It does not attempt to solve our co-existence, nor does it acknowledge our right to live our lives. It is an attempt to obliterate a nation off the face of the earth, for one reason alone - more political power.

Killing all the Jews, conquering Jerusalem, making it the Capitol of Islamic nations will not bring peace to earth. It will not resolve all the problems the Muslim world is facing. It will not bring the Muslims together. As long as humans are so different from each other - even Muslims will continue to fight amongst themselves (e.g. Iraq...). Jerusalem is not the answer. The answer is within the people. The answer lies in talking, understanding, acknowledging - and dare I say, faith that we can live together in peace.


Shalom Salam
שלום سلام

Some facts about Jerusalem

• For over 3,300 years, Jerusalem has been the Jewish capital. Jerusalem has never been the capital of any Arab or Muslim entity.
• Even when the Jordanians occupied Jerusalem (1948-1967), they never sought to make it their capital, and Arab leaders did not come to visit.
• In the Jewish Bible, Jerusalem is mentioned over 669 times and Zion (which usually means Jerusalem, sometimes the Land of Israel) 154 times, or 823 times. The Christian Bible mentions Jerusalem 154 times and Zion 7 times. Jerusalem is not mentioned once in the Koran. Jerusalem is also not mentioned in the Palestinian Covenant.
• Jews pray facing Jerusalem as the location of the Beit Hamikdash. Muslims pray facing their holy city Mecca with their backs toward Jerusalem.
• King David established the city of Jerusalem as the capital of the whole Land of Israel. Mohammed never came to Jerusalem. Jerusalem remained under Turkish Ottoman Empire rule from 1517 to 1917, and under British rule from 1917 to 1948.
• The Temple Mount in Jerusalem is the holiest site for Jews. It was the site of the Beit HaMikdash ("Temple") built by King Solomon (950 BCE), which was destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar (587 BCE), rebuilt in 541 BCE, and then destroyed again by the Roman army in 70 CE leading to the exile of Jews from Israel.
• Al Aqsa Mosque and Shrine Of Omar were built at the site of the ancient Jewish temples. The Arabic name for Jerusalem "el-KuDS" is derived from the Arabic name "BeT el-MaKDeS", a translation of the Hebrew "BeiT ha-MiKDaSH", the name of the Jewish Temple.
• Under Jordanian rule, Jewish holy sites were desecrated and the Jews were denied access to places of worship. Under Israeli rule, all Muslim and Christian sites have been preserved and made accessible to people of all faiths.
• Arabs recently burnt the Tomb of Joseph and the ancient synagogue in Jericho. To this day Arab Waqf in control of the Temple Mount does not allow Jews to pray in the Temple Mount.
• The Muslims' claim on Jerusalem is less than a hundred years old. Jerusalem's role as "The Third Holiest Site in Islam" in mainstream Islamic writings does not precede the 1930s and was started by the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem, Mohammad Amin al-Husayni last century. One only has to read about his associations with the Nazis to understand his motives were not religious in nature and had nothing to do with Islam and a whole lot to do with anti-semitism.
• Throughout the ages the Arabs have ignored The Temple Mount and renewed interest only recently because of their political exigencies and not religious history.

The Danger we Pose

I've had three days to "calm down" from my political anger. Sometimes I get so angry when I hear the news that I force myself to be quiet before I lash out and vent.

This is about the asinine comment made by the President of Iran, which I will not repeat here, as I'm sure everyone has heard of it.

I don't want anyone to get me wrong - I don't hate Muslims, nor do I feel anger towards them. That's too huge a generalization to make. I do hate terrorists and 90% of Arab leaders for brain washing their people to believe the bullshit they say. In a democracy, free speech allows everyone to speak, giving a semi-proper balance to opinions on both sides. A democracy means that the truth is often heard louder than the lies.

But most Arab/Muslim nations do not have a democracy. This means - no freedom of speech, and the lies of leaders are taken at face value with no one to contest it. The power of these leaders in supporting terrorism both financially and physically is upsetting me to no end. They spread their lies about Israel, and their people follow it like blind sheep, believing that indeed Israel is the root of all evil. Do they even realise how ridiculous this belief is? Can 6 million people living in a tiny piece of land constitute such a danger to the Arab/Muslim nations???
Yes, we're that tiny piece of red colour in the center of this map. The green represents all the Arab/Muslim lands.

Unlike Islam's Koran, which commands Muslims to force the entire planet to submit to literal control by Islam, the Jewish Torah promises the children of Israel a modest and reasonable allotment of land. Israel in RED, is a democratic nation 1/19th the size of California, surrounded by 22 hostile Arab/Islamic dictatorships with 640 times her size, 60 times her population and ALL the oil. How dare Arab propagandists call Israel "expansionist!" And how dare anyone believe them! How can Israel, which occupies one-sixth of one percent of the lands called Arab, be responsible for the political dissatisfaction of 22 Arab countries? How can the 13 million Jews in the world (almost 5 million fewer than they were in 1939!) be blamed for the problems of the 300 million Arabs, who have brotherly ties to 1.4 billion Muslims worldwide?

For those of you from the U.S., here's a map to compare Israel to the USA:

Now do you see how ridiculous it is to believe that the occupants of that little tiny slice of land could ever constitute danger to anyone living around them?

It wouldn't anger me as much had I believed that everyone is very aware of the facts, but I've come across so MANY Americans who were shocked to realise our true size, that it doesn't take a leap of faith to understand that the people living under the Arab/Muslim regimes are probably just as ignorant about the facts.

So let me state this out front - Israelis do not believe in expansion. Israelis do not believe in conquering the world. In our 57 years of existence we have given up more land than any other Arab nation has given up for the sake of peace with the neighbours! We pose no danger to any Arab or Muslim nation. It is pure propoganda to believe otherwise. And those who believe this propoganda ought to start catching up on some history lessons dating back to Abraham, the first Jew who lived in the Land of Israel (and if they stay awake for 2500 years worth of history they'd catch up to the history lesson about Muhammed, the founder of Islam, who lived in Arabia). Hopefully, they'll also reach the teachings of the Koran itself:

Night Journey Sura 26 - it is written that Allah say to the
people of Israel "Settle in the Land of Israel."

For all my women friends

Mother Goose and Grimm / Mike Peters Oct. 28, 2005

Money, money, money

No, I didn't win the lottery. This is a venting post. I just had to fill in some paperwork to join my company's 401K. My blood pressure shot up at least 30 points in the past half hour. If there's something I absolutely cannot stand, even worse than cleaning the house, it's dealing with money. Anything to do with our personal finances, I detest to the Nth level. I don't understand it, I don't care to understand it and I don't freaking WANT to understand it!

The most I can handle when it comes to money is paying the bills. Anything dealing with trying to understand the bills I get so angry and frustrated that I choose to pay the extra $14 that I think I was overbilled, than call a company and wait on the phone for half hour only to have to explain to the other idiot why I shouldn't be charged $14.

What annoys me the most on earth is anything to do with understanding taxes, equity, stocks, interest rate, and all those other words besides "pay this amount." I had taken college courses in Economics and passed them with an A, though I think I would have been better off with an F, and forced to take it five times until I GOT IT. I have this aversion to trying to understand the "adult world." It's not that I'm stupid, and it's not that I hate math (I absolutely LOVE math), it's a simple hatred of anything to do with money.

As a Jew I live by a basic tenet - you work, you save. But when it comes to the details of where to put the money in savings, I just gave up. After 6 years of marriage I've decided that we cannot go on living without a financial plan for our future, so we went and paid $500 for a financial advisor. Yes, I'd much rather pay a stranger $500 to deal with my money, than deal with it myself. The peace of mind involved in someone else doing it for me, is well worth it!!!

The reason I didn't sign up with my company's 401K, eventhough I've been with this company for seven years (yeah, I know, I know, "gasp, shock" - I've heard it all from co-workers who told me I'm an idiot for not using our company's plan which apparently is VERY good) - it was way too confusing to figure out what the fuck a 401K IS!!! It won't matter how many times my husband has explained it to me, and it won't matter how helpful some websites are - I just can't freaking get it. I have tears in my eyes now just from feeling overwhelmed about thinking of it.

I can't stand the choices of mutual funds. I can't stand the fact that they are all lumped together not giving me a choice to select only ONE of the companies within them at the percentage investment in it that _I_ want. I can't stand the fact that every mutual fund I've been shown has an oil company or a healthcare company. WTF!Can this world not exist without investing in freaking oil companies or a health insurance company? What's wrong with investing in high technology, medical research and educational products? I absolutely refuse to invest money in American companies associated with healthcare, and I refuse to invest in companies that get oil from Saudi Arabia and the Persian Gulf.

And yes, my husband has explained that it would mean I'd have to invest in individual stocks and get into the stock market. But I'm a perfectionist, Type A - and if I cannot dedicate 100% of my time to learning, researching and following the stock market and know for sure that my money is not constantly losing value - I'm not going to do it!

The only concept I find easy to deal with is the CD's - you put money in it, lock it for a year or five and it accumulates interest. So after five years I get not only my own money back but a small bonus with it. Very cool. Easy peasy.

Yeah, you guessed it - my husband does our taxes. Thankdog, for wonderful husbands.

What Goes Around Comes Around

I'm not a vengeful person, but sometimes things happen that makes me think that someone out there is performing revenge for me.

So this is about four different people who crossed my path and if I were the vengeful type, they'd be at the top of my list. Somehow, someone else took care of it for me.

I started out my higher educational path at a community college after spending two years at the Technion. I was thrown out of the Technion for failing Calculus three times in a row. They had a rule that if you don't pass it by the third semester - you're out. Of course they changed this rule a year after they threw me out, and today you have no time limit to pass the course. Needless to say, going into a community college after spending four semesters at the Technion was a walk in the park.

I had a 4.0 gpa by the time I got to the last semester, when I realised that I still need to take one credit of health/sports course. Due to my health I couldn't take any sport classes, so I opted for the class lecture in Scuba Diving. In the final exam I missed a couple of questions. Thinking that with my homework my final grade would be raised to 90, I was shocked to realise that homework didn't count for anything, and this teacher was bound and determined to give me a B. I waited for him the following morning trying to convince him to listen to me ("You did not state in the class requirements that there is no credit for the homework!"). This asshole knew perfectly well that I was a 4.0 student about to graduate a valedictorian. He took great pride in telling me about other students who were in a similar situation and whose mothers came and begged him to reconsider and he was determined to give them a B anyway. When I left his office and saw his sports-car I was just itching to take my keys out and scratch a nice line across it. I had all my professors and several administrators work on my behalf and try to resolve this with him, only to conclude the same thing - he's an asshole! I found out two days too late that I could have gotten exemption from this stupid sports course because I served in the army. But nothing helped convince the administrators to drop this class from my list of courses. My GPA dropped to 3.99. I wasn't the valedictorian.

Sweet revenge came in two forms - there were far more newspaper articles about me in all local newspapers than there were about the two other valedictorians. A couple of days after this professor refused to give me an A - he showed up in a cast from crotch to foot. He was in a car accident. Asshole got what he deserved!

I transferred to a University where my grades weren't as spectacular but I still aimed high. Until my last year of Architecture Design. At this point everyone knew that I wasn't the typical quite student. I was opinionated and damn it I was old enough to voice it in class and not be scared of stupid professors. My final grade sheet came with the sentence "I appreciate your pagnaciousness and tenacity but I think you'll be better off in Construction Management." This asshole of a "design" teacher (who happened to be the assistant dean) was a freaking DESIGN teacher and had no right to tell me where I'd be better off. He should have graded me on design and not on how opinionated I am. I was absolutely livid when I saw his comment. Showed it to everyone who were just as shocked because they didn't agree with the grade he gave me. It was the lowest grade I had received since I failed Calculus in Israel - he gave me a C+ because I talked back to the guest jurors (big deal, some architects from another university - like I care!).
That summer I continued towards a Masters degree, when I received news of my "sweet revenge" - the assistant dean was knocked over the head with a 2 x 4 while renovating his attic. He lost all memory and capability to speak. Could no longer teach and was forced into early retirement. That's what happens when a DESIGN teacher decides to practice CONSTRUCTION.

For three months you followed my rants about my workplace and working in a trailer. I tried not to mention the biggest asshole while I was still on the job. A former employee of our company has decided to take a position with the government, which made him our client. This is a former disgruntled employee who cannot stand anything to do with our company, and was all intent on making our lives difficult as representatives of the company on this project. Well one day when a crane was scheduled on site to raise up 5 dry coolers to the roof (700 lb each), I approached him on the roof and politely asked if he needs a hard hat (I was going to offer to bring him one). He got in my face and got all red-faced saying, "I don't need no stinking hard hat! Write me up!" When I tried to calm him down I told him that I was the construction manager on site and when there's overhead work everyone is required to wear a hard hat. He got all puffed up and walked down from the roof to the lobby. I walked down to the trailer to get hard hats for other people from the client's office, when he shouted at me across the lobby "We're going to do things the hard way, right? So where's the pavers protection??" At which point I answered back "For WHAT? something that weighs less than a bus??" (there was a ladder on it. That's it.). This guy called my boss at work and gave him a long laundry list of complaints about me and my co-worker. Our asshole of a boss (different story altogether) backed him up and didn't even bother asking me for my side.

Two weeks ago I was finally taken off this job. Came back to the office, when I heard the news - the asshole former disgruntled employee has been through a motorcycle accident and was injured, in the hospital. I was dying to write him a get-well card that says, "see what happens when you don't wear a hard hat?!"

Four years ago as I was going through the worst time of my life health wise, I was scheduled to see a doctor at Johns Hopkins for a second opinion. I waited five months for this appointment. Five very long and painful months. This was a chance to save my health. A chance to find a better solution than surgery. After a 3 hour wait and an hour drilling by stupid med students (like I have patience to explain to medical students 22 years of a very complicated medical history?!) - she came in the room and without any mental preparation or any note of saddness in her voice she outright said, "Your entire colon needs to be removed." I was suicidal driving on the way home from this appointment. The only reason I didn't drive my car at 65mph against the concrete divider between the lanes is because thoughts of my husband came to my mind all of a sudden. I couldn't do it. Needless to say, I found a surgeon. I still have some of my colon. That was four years ago. I've been warning other patients since then not to go see her.
A couple of months ago I heard the sweet revenge - she has been removed from Johns Hopkins to another facility and she is no longer to be consulted about surgeries. She's very unhappy about it and made it known to other patients.


Some of you may think I'm cold hearted for not having any saddness in me for any of the stories above. You know what, fuck it. I have way too much saddness for everyone else in the world. These assholes didn't deserve it from ME. Let others who love them care about them. There's just so much niceness in me. I don't need to be nice to everyone. They weren't nice to me!

No, I don't think that all these events were related in any way to how these people treated me. But it is a good feeling to know that bad things happen to bad people.

My advance degree advice

You Should Get a JD (Juris Doctor)

You're logical, driven, and ruthless.You'd make a mighty fine lawyer.

What Advanced Degree Should You Get?

When I was in 14 years old, my older brother bought me a huge toothbrush (one foot long), and said, "Because I think you have a big mouth!" My mother confirmed his belief and said, "You should become a lawyer one day."

That's all nice and well, but much like Medicine - it's a corrupt world. You help only those who have money, and even then you decide how much effort to put into it based on how nice your clients are. Not to mention you get thrown into working within the system, as opposed to doing the RIGHT THING.

So, I'm not a lawyer, eventhough I had professors who wrote on my final grade papers "I appreciate your pagnaciousness and tenacity, but..." But that's for another post altogether.

Compliments of Rockjock

I've been preoccupied recently (Jewish holidays, work, life) and lost track of some blogs I frequent. Well, apparently, I had been tagged in absentia.

So here are the rules:
1. Find your 23rd post.
2. Repost only the 5th sentence, or the closest thing to it.
3. Continue the vicious cycle by tagging 5 people...

Here's my 5th sentence in the 23rd post:

"This is when he goes into a 15 minute dissertation about the Eagle's shit and his bucket of water."

This was a post about my co-worker WL. I miss him already. This week was my first week off his job. I'm done. FINALLY! I may have to write a special tribute for him.


I don't really have all that many blog followers, so I'll just pick 3 new victims:

1. 3mr@n
2. Zombieslayer
3. Madman

Enjoy!

Offline

While fasting 26 hours on Yom Kippur, I've come to the conclusion that having my computer in the shop for repairs is not as bad as I thought. So I'll be offline for about a week. This should give everyone time to catch up on the influx of posts from last week.

Friendly project is complete.

I'm contemplating whether I should launch the Hostile Project next. This will be an account of people I've come across in my life and couldn't stand. Yeah, this is looking like a brilliant idea. Stay tuned for some written venom.

Childish Friends

This last friendly post is about my favourite-bestest friends in the entire world. The type of friends that have been my friends forever and will remain my friends forever. It's about my childhood friends. Those that I grew up with. Those that I went to school with.

At the age of 2 I met Boaz in kindergarten. Unfortunately, I cannot give you an account of how we met or what was the first thing we said to each other. But I can assure you it wasn't intelligent nor brilliant. Knowing us, it was probably something stupid or funny like "wanna make a castle in the sand?" Boaz and I were inseparable for the following 16 years. Only the army was able to seperate us and send us far from each other. But they couldn't keep us apart during the weekends and vacations. We're like brother and sister. By some very strange turn of events we both ended up in the same profession - Construction Management, so now we still have a lot in common to talk about. Actually, I need to explain something - Boaz is the brother I always wanted instead of my brother who was seven years older. We'd go to movies together, scouts, parties, trips, you name it. We studied together for the matriculation exams. We experienced life together.

When Boaz sent me the wedding invitation, my husband and I made the trip from the U.S. to be at his wedding in Israel. The following day, their honeymoon - we spent with them - touring Jerusalem. So yeah, he's that type of friend.

Boaz and his wife have one kid. On New Year when we spoke on the phone, I found out the wonderful news - his wife is pregnant again. I'm so thrilled to hear it. If there are any parents in the world that deserve to raise many more kids - it'd be them. So Boaz and Hilla - MAZAL TOV!

On November 14 this year I will be celebrating 20 years since I became best friends with Shelly. Yes, it's a marked date on the calendar that we both commemorate with a silly phone call of "do you remember" every single year. Shelly and I were in the same class from sixth grade. I had nothing in common with her. I was a snob. I preferred befriending other snobs. Didn't want anything to do with someone unpopular in sixth grade. Then I got ill in the 9th grade and hospitalized. All my snob friends left me. They did the typical cruel teenager thing - made fun of my looks and forgot about personality and friendship, and within a week I became unpopular. That's when three girls from my class came to visit me in the hospital: Shelly, Tsori and Galit. Overnight I found out who my real friends were. So in an odd way I'm thankful I got so sick.

One week in the 10th grade we were on a school trip, helping the army mend the border fence with Syria. Shelly and I spent the evening talking about...(ok, is it really that difficult to figure out we had talked about guys?). Within an hour we found out we were infatuated with the same kid in class. We were both the shy girls. So we made a bet. Whoever gets him first - the other one owes her a candy bar (it was one of those "walking sticks" filled with candy). That bet will be 20 years old on November 14th. Neither of us won. Though, she got closer to the target than I ever did.

To explain to others my friendship with Shelly would be stupid, because no one could possibly understand the silly humour we have between us.

My friendship with her is an example of what I was willing to give up in life to maintain my friendship. We selected the same major in high school - math and physics. Within a year and a half, I realised she was about 100 IQ points above me when all her math and physics quizes came back with 100 (mine were in the 60's and 70's). I did some serious thinking and determined that with my competitive personality and my extreme jealousy it was best for our friendship if I left the class and moved to a different major. I requested the teacher to move me mid-year. He tried to discourage me telling me that my grades were not that low that I'd need to move and that he felt I could make it. I never told him the real reason. I just told him I don't like math and prefer Biology. I don't regret that decision one minute. I would have done it over again.

By the end of Channukah that year I was ready to move to the Biology major, where Tsori was already a veteran (she made this smart move several months before me). Tsori, Shelly and I became inseparable and spent many afternoons together. One day I'll have to write about the surprise birthday party they did for me for my 18th birthday.

Tsori lives in Jerusalem now, with her husband and three kids. I wish I could meet her more often during my visits to Israel. But friends remain friends, regardless of distance.

Tsori and Shelly were my only girl - friends 'til I turned 30. I hated all girls. All my friends were male.

Then there's 6'8" best friend, nine days apart in age - Doron. I'm older. I won't let him forget it. We met after high school. In a refresher course for math, before registering at the university. He came over, sat next to me, and said, "I know you. You used to go to this school...." Needless to say, I didn't remember anyone 6'8" and was in quite a shock that a stranger would approach me like that. I think it took us a day to become best friends. If there's anything I regret in life it's not knowing him at school. But he used to play basketball with all these guys that used to smoke, and I hated smokers, so I completely ignored him - thinking he was one of them. He wasn't. He hated smoking, too. He just played with them basketball. He wasn't friends with them.

Doron is one of those friends that I think every person should have. He calls me, writes letters, sends me stuff, makes me laugh, cares about me. Not enough words can describe his friendship. Yet another friend whose wedding I attended after special arrangements to travel from the U.S. to Israel to attend his wedding.

These are my friends from childhood. Best friends. But there's one more. A friend who will forever remain 13.

David. Killed at point blank with a shotgun pointed at his chest, when his "friend" played Russian Roullete. He was 13. Just had his Bar Mitzvah.

David was my bestest friend in the entire world since we were 5 or 6 (who can remember?!). We lived close to each other. We would spend every waking hour together. Waking hours ranged from 6am through 11pm. David was my first kiss. There. I said it. We were just experimenting. David was also my first love. No, it was never reciprocated, and I even introduced him to his girlfriend. But David was the one I was supposed to marry one day - at least that was what I had dreamt of.

It feels wierd to write his name or write about him. I've been traumatized so much by his death that I cannot say his name out loud. Thankfully I had never met anyone else named David in Israel (the Hebrew pronounciation is different from the English).

I still dream about him. The deepest pain I had ever felt in the world was when he died. Nothing can return him and I don't think I've come to terms with that knowledge. In my dreams, I find out he's been alive all these years and he purposely hid from me. I get angry at him for having caused me this pain.

My friendship with Boaz had strengthened tremendously after David's death. We were both his best friends. We held each other through that difficult time. A silent agreement between us meant - we don't talk about him. We were both comfortable with it.

In a couple of hours Yom Kippur begins. Yom Kippur is the day of atonement for the Jews. It's a day when we fast from sundown to sundown. 25 hours of no drinking or eating. I used to spend Yom Kippur with David. We would fast together (long before it was mandatory when we became Bar and Bat Mitzvah). We would run around the synagogue, waiting for our mothers to leave. We would take chocolate bars in our pockets to tempt the elderly fasting men. We would walk up and down the street (no cars are allowed to drive on Yom Kippur). Yom Kippur was our day.

Since his death, I cannot go through Yom Kippur without thinking of him. I fast because of the memories. I fast because I want to remember the good times.

I also fast because Yom Kippur is when we apologise to our friends and family for anything we may have said or done that hurt them this year.

So that's the end of my Friendly Project. My apologies to all my friends for anything I said, or didn't say, that may have hurt you or offended you this past year and previous years. I apologise for not being the best friend, for not keeping in touch as often, for not always being there for you. But you, my friends, are always on my mind.

And with this, I will close the computer for the next two days.

The World Wide Web of Friends

Obviously, the internet is the easiest place to find new friends. I've been online since 1995. Strangely enough, I've always been under my real name and not a psuedonym. This blog is the first time in my ten years online that I decided to go anonymous. I think I had more trust in the internet back then. No fear of spam, no fear of stalkers, no fear of anyone finding out who I am.

I got online the day that Yitzchak Rabin was assassinated. I felt a need to connect with other Israelis and talk. My husband had a CompuServe account, and that's how I ended up in the Israel Forum on CompuServe.

That's where I met my long time friends, Z.T. and J.R. - two Israeli men (who don't know each other), who were much older than me at the time (I was in my 20's, so obviously everyone above 30 was "much older"). Long chats online ensued, and within a year or two I had met both of them in person. They were the first in a long line of friends I made online whom I also met in real life. There's nothing in common between Z.T. and J.R. other than I became friends with them for political reasons. Or to better explain it, because we discussed politics day and night online.

Z.T. - a religious Jew from the left wing, J.R. - a secular Jew from the right wing. Should have been the opposite, but figures that I'd find the two anomalies in Israeli politics. Speaking politics with Z.T. is a pleasure and an enjoyable experience. Speaking politics with J.R. is an angering and frustrating experience. But somehow, I'm friends with both of them. What do they have in common - a wonderful sense of humour and just plain being wonderful people.

So no, I couldn't care less what your opinions are. I do care if you're a nice person with a charming personality. There are so many topics to disagree on, that I cannot limit my friends to the few that agree with me 100% on everything. I married the one friend who agrees with me on 95% of the topics we discuss. The others fall short of that mark - somewhere around 50-80%.

Then by some strange turn of events, I followed a friend from one forum to another, and ended up with a gazillion friends. So, J.S., thank you for introducing me to your own passion in life - writing, which has rapidly become my own hobby in life.
J.S. was also the beginning of my travels around the world to meet internet friends. My husband and I met J.S. and his wife, back in 1998 on a trip to Ireland - his homecountry. Then in 2003, my husband and I, along with my brother and his wife, met my internet friend, P.W, as well as his wife and son - in a trip to Scotland.

J.S. and P.W. - thank you for introducing me to your lovely countries!!! I can't wait to go back one day.

Once I settled in the new forum, I've made so many friends, I don't think I can really mention all of them in this short post. Some names to mention: Linda, Kris, Diana, Joyce, Carol, Martin, Elise, Dan, Jo...the list goes on. Yes, I've met some of them in person, including family members. And some I hope to still meet. Mtrain, that'd be you!

This world of blogging is a bit new for me, but hopefully, I'll meet you guys too, one day. No, not in the stalker type of way. So 3mr@n, you're on target. CS, it's been a real pleasure!!!

In the Navy

When I graduated from high school, due to the circumstances mentioned in the post below, I was exempt from joining the Israeli army. So I did the obvious thing - I volunteered. For two years, like all other 18 year old girls in Israel.

This was the first time I had met people from different social backgrounds, as opposed to those snobs I knew at my school for 12 years. This was my first test of how well I adapt to different social situations. I passed with flying colours. Made friends with everyone. Kept in touch with a few. Again, no email back then so there was no method to keep in touch with people who were scattered all over the country.

In Israel the military service is a huge landmark in our lives. It may be only two years or three years of our lives, but this is the period where we change from being teenagers to being mature adults. This is the period that everyone looks back to. The amount of memories you gather from your military service cannot be compared to any other experience in life. There is not even one Israeli you'll meet who has not kept in touch with at least one friend from their time in the service. And more often than not, social groups of friends begin in the military. Nothing like throwing a bunch of strangers from different social backgrounds into one tent and telling them - deal with it! It's the best bonding experience in life. Most times, you would never imagine becoming friends with some of those people, yet through some strange turn of events you end up best of friends. Whether it's by "your enemy is my enemy" or whether it's by "I'm miserable, I have no one to vent to, you're it."

I joined the Navy November 26th, 1987. Quite rapidly I learned how to get along with several girls my age who seemed nice enough to talk to when I was bored. Four months later, a new recruit arrived and we realised she was allotted to work in our unit, we did the obvious - started gossiping about her. What else could we do with our free time?!

Well, L.D. wore a lot of makeup. Heavy black eye liner on the eyes. Very goth looking. Well, being the nice girls that we were in this unit, we had determined that L.D. was a drug addict and that's why her eyes always seemed glazed over and in a different world. And we welcomed her in that fashion. We didn't talk to her. No one wants to talk to a drug addict. One day we all sat outside our unit during our lunch break and she broke the news - "I plan to die by the age of 24." That pretty much broke our silence and had us laughing.

She's 36 today, married plus one. She's my best friend from the Navy. She wasn't a drug addict, she just has her own unique style. She's as much of a snob as I am, and we share a great love of art - not to mention we connected on an intellectual level, which meant the world to me! We spent our boring days in the Navy discussing the hunky men we saw pass through our unit daily (I told you - we connected on an intellectual level!). Oh yeah, we performed medical checkups on divers, so we pretty much saw them all without their shirts on. It was a good bonding activity - discussing men that is.

Then there's my commanding officer, Y.M. No, I did not become friends with the commanding officer. He's retired today. But he will always remain "My commanding officer." The amount of respect I feel for him exceeds my ability to ever consider him a friend. But if we met in any other circumstances, I would have loved to be considered his friend. Of course, so did all the bachellorettes in Israel (including one very famous good looking singer who was his girlfriend). We shared the same sign - Aquarius. That was sufficient for me to consider him - my equal.

And of course I cannot forget my favourite civilian in the Navy, R.L. A wonderful Scottish-Jew who spoke only English to me. Intelligent, smart, detail oriented - that's all I needed to know to make friends with him. He was the unit's librarian. I'd spend days in his library helping him out. This was my quiet job in life. I miss working with him. His wit and dry humour kept me going through those couple of years.

I wish I could get in touch with all my other friends from that period. Including one who almost became my boyfriend, but I was a bit young and naive for him at the time. Yes, I still have a thing for him. But I'm way out of his league.

Here's to my friends from the Navy - best time of my life!

Working friends

Today I may post several posts. My goal is to finish this friendly project before sundown.

This is about friends I've found in the workplace. There aren't many of those (workplace I mean, not friends). I'm a fairly consistent employee. I volunteered for seven years of my life. Went to college for another seven years of my life. Worked part time at an Architecture firm 18 months. And finally, been with the current company for the past seven years. I'm not counting the one year work at Fuddruckers (Absolutely best burger you'd eat!) - because I didn't make any friends there.

My first "job" was actually without pay. I volunteered seven years with the USO (Haifa, Israel). I could probably fill a book about the friends I gathered from the hundreds of thousands American sailors that passed through the office during that time. And yes, I ended up marrying one of those friends. It wasn't intentional. But I figured that if I've managed to compare him to so many friends I have, and he still stood out as the "chosen one" I better get married to him. I was also very scared about losing him as a friend, and marrying him was the best option. No regrets there.
Today I've lost touch with most of my friends from that period in my life, but that's because Americans have these common names that are impossible to find on the internet even if I tried. But if anyone comes across a Stan Clark, married to Michelle back in the 80's, who went through the Top Gun school of aviation and looks like Kevin Kostner, please direct him to my website. I need to tell him that I appreciate his help with Calculus, but I ended up failing it for the third time.

Then came 18 months at an Architecture firm where I tried not to make friends because I was too much of a snob at the time. Though I'll admit that I still keep in touch with one of the Architects in that office, B.W., who's been a good friend throughout my time there and after. I think he's the only friend I have who's an Architect. Considering my background that's absolutely amazing that I've turned my back on the profession in such a manner where I cannot even make any friends among them.

Then there's my current company. Seven years of being surrounded by friends. I have no idea how this came about. Maybe the length of time I've worked here. But I'm leaning more towards the fact that this company has the most awesome collection of like-minded people. It's a management company. Everyone here is opinionated, strong, stubborn, vocal, and yeah - fun to be with! This is no doubt where I belong, among people who know everything about everything and people who know how to have fun as well. I would do it great injustice if I tried to name everyone, and you could pretty much go through the alphabet to get everyone's initials, ranging from C.L, J.V, W.L, D.G, L.R, B.S, H.K, D.D, D.M, E.C, G.M, C.B, P.H, P.K, I.N, J.Z., V.R (yes, the same one mentioned below). Wow, I think I can come up with a good game with just the initials of my friends from work.

When you work in the D.C. area, you end up with friends who live an hour to two hours away from your house. So unfortunately, most of my friends don't live very close by. But in spite of this, these friends are not just friends from 8 to 5. We meet outside of work, we meet in company parties and picnics. I've met most of the spouses, significant others and the kids. I've even been to one wedding, and I'm expecting a couple more invitations!

My favourite time at work is lunchtime, when I get to meet my friends, play cut-throat Scrabble with C.B and J.V. and get advice from all my other friends as they sit in the kitchen to observe our fun game. Scrabble rules. No doubt. In fact any activity that makes you laugh through your lunch break should be encouraged in the workplace.

If some of you think that my standards for friends must be quite liberal, think again. I'm very picky. I have lots of rules and requirements. They need to be smart, intelligent, funny, caring, responsible, honest, opinionated and with excellent work ethics. And yes, they need to know how to spell if they want to play Scrabble.

So here's to all my working friends, who've been there for me during the most difficult years of my life, who collected $100 in a Popeyes Take-out box to give to the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation of America when I was headed for surgery, who forced me to finish my lunch, who forced me to take a break from work, who forced me to take vacation, and who forced me to stay home on long term disability (because I insisted on coming to work just so I could get to play Scrabble with my friends at lunch).
Here's to all these friends who make me laugh, who let me rant and vent about life and work, who challenge me to seek higher goals, who help me win an argument, who are just there to lean on when I need it most.

Thank you all for being such wonderful friends and not just co-workers.

My cronies

It's been five months since I started this blog and I've been fairly happy with not revealing a whole lot about myself, but because I'm dedicating these recent posts to my friends, I can no longer hide.

This blog has been my escape from real life - a place where I can hide 75% of my life. Ok, I'll get on with it because I'm tired of hiding.

I've had Crohn's Disease for 26 years.

There. I said it.

I'm not going to go into a description of everything it means, other than mention that it's an autoimmune disease that attacks the intestinal tract and that I've had a dozen surgeries. When I watch all those HNT photos from other bloggers I'm jealous of all those perfect bodies. Mine is scarred and I have nothing to be proud of. If I could take a photo of my brain, that'd be the only one I'd be proud enough to display in public. Ok, 'nuff self pity. There are people far worse off.

I've lived my life in denial and ignored anything to do with sick people. I didn't want to be associated with other sick people. Then four years ago I had gone through a difficult time with my health and started seeking out others who understood my suffering.

I became active in support groups both online and offline. I became a lobbyist and along with other people as passionate as I am spoke to senators, congressmen and legislators in an attempt to get their support for a bill that would provide funding to the NIH for medical research that will find a cure. I attend conferences, meetings, fundraising events, support group meetings, committees and anything related to my life with Crohn's Disease.

I cannot stand people who were diagnosed with an illness and make it their life mission to talk to everyone about their pains, symptoms, surgeries, etc. No one wants to hear that shit! (Literally!)
But the problem is that we have a need to talk. We have to vent to someone. We have to share it with someone. It's just not all that healthy to keep everything inside and let everything eat you from inside.

So at work and on my blog - I don't talk about my disease. But in the evenings, I get online and dedicate two hours to helping others with this disease. Particularly parents of kids with it, since I know what it was like growing up with Crohn's.

I've made a lot of friends through all my disease-related activities. They're my crohnies. One of them has been my personal support group through a very difficult time. Her way of support - she would mail me gag gifts. Yeah, stupid things like -Things that would make me laugh.

This post is dedicated to all these friends I've met in recent years who share my disease and understand what I've been through. All those who make me laugh, and let me cry. All those who don't ask me with that serious tone of voice, "so how are you feeling today?" [Yeah, unless you really want to hear all the gory details of how I feel, then don't ask!]

This post is dedicated to a very special young friend - a very brave young man, that I wish all the best the world has to offer. After years of battling severe Crohn's, he had undergone stem cell transplant and is now finally recovering and on his way to prove the world that there is a cure for this debilitating disease. If anyone is curious to read about the wonders of stem cell transplant, the process, and the results, you can visit his wonderful website.

This post is dedicated to all the parents of kids with Inflammatory Bowel Disease, whom I've gotten to know in the past four years. Parents of toddlers, and teenagers. Parents who are struggling with decisions that no parent should ever have to make, yet they are forced to make.

This post is dedicated to my friends from my support group, and especially J & D who got married yesterday at a beautiful ceremony. Sometimes those words the priest says mean so much more - "in sickness and in health." This couple has been through it all! Congratulations and may you enjoy many years of joy and happiness.

This post is dedicated to all of my friends who visited me in the hospital, sent cards, sent flowers, walked with me and helped me raise money for the Crohn's and Colitis Foundation of America.

This post is dedicated to many new friends I will meet in future - friends who share my hope of living to see a cure for our disease.

To the Nafie Brothers

With my heartfelt condolences.


Moments in Life (Author: Unknown)

There are moments in life when you miss someone
so much that you just want to pick them from
your dreams and hug them for real!

When the door of happiness closes, another opens;
but often times we look so long at the
closed door that we don't see the one
which has been opened for us.

Don't go for looks; they can deceive.
Don't go for wealth; even that fades away.
Go for someone who makes you smile,
because it takes only a smile to
make a dark day seem bright.
Find the one that makes your heart smile.

Dream what you want to dream;
go where you want to go;
be what you want to be,
because you have only one life and one
chance to do all the things you want to do.

May you have enough happiness to make you sweet,
enough trials to make you strong,
enough sorrow to keep you human and
enough hope to make you happy.

The happiest of people don't necessarily
have the best of everything;
they just make the most of everything
that comes along their way.

The brightest future will always
be based on a forgotten past;
you can't go forward in life until
you let go of your past failures and heartaches.

When you were born, you were crying
and everyone around you was smiling.
Live your life so at the end,
you're the one who is smiling and everyone
around you is crying.

Don't count the years...count the memories.

Inna lillahi wa inna ilaihi rajioon.

Ramadan Mubarak

I hear this all the time: Why do Jewish holidays keep changing dates? I'm sure my Muslim friends get the same question about Muslim holidays.

The Muslims and the Jews go by the lunar calendar as opposed to the solar calendar. To learn more about calendars I found this very interesting link.

So what is the difference between the Jewish, Chinese and Muslim calendars: Jewish holidays occur on the same day every year: the same day on the Jewish calendar! The Jewish calendar has a different number of days than the calendar you use because the Jewish calendar is tied to the moon's cycles instead of the sun's. The Jewish calendar loses about 11 days relative to the solar calendar every year, but makes up for it by adding a month every two or three years. The month of Adar is repeated and then the first one is called Adar Aleph and the second follows it with Adar Bet. As a result, the holidays don't always fall on the same day, but they always fall within the same month or two. The Chinese calendar (which is also lunar) works the same way, which is why Chinese New Year occurs on different days but is always in late January or early February. The Muslim calendar is lunar but does not add months, which is why Ramadan circles the calendar.

This year for the first time in many years Ramadan and Rosh Hashana begin on the same day.

Ramadan, for those of you not familiar with its meaning, is the ninth month of the Muslim calendar. Muslims believe that during this month Allah revealed the first verses of the Qur'an, the holy book of Islam. At many mosques during Ramadan, about one thirtieth of the Qur'an is recited each night in prayers. By the end of the month the complete scripture will have been recited. During Ramadan Muslims fast while the sun shines. No food or drink during the daylight for the entire month.

When I finished my degree at a community college I transferred to a Catholic university. As a Jewish minority I thought I'd never find any friends at the university. But this university was inundated with international students, so obviously I was bound to make some new friends. But here's the thing, what does an Israeli Jew have in common with a devout Catholic? Well, come to find out - nothing. Turns out I had far more in common with my Muslim cousins* from the Middle East than I did with any Catholics. [* In Israel, Jews refer to Muslims as "our cousins" - referring back to Abraham our forefather]. So that's how I made friends with the Muslims from Lebanon, Egypt, Iraq, Kuwait, Iran, Jordan and Turkey. It was quite odd that while the entire world believes the Jews and the Muslims are at war with each other - here I was, enjoying the company of my good friends. This is also when I found out - not even all Muslims agree amongst themselves. When the Iraqi guy picked a fight with me, blaming the Jews for every suffering the Palestinians and Arabs have ever endured, all the other Arabs from Kuwait, Lebanon, Jordan and Egypt split into two groups. One group circled him and attacked him verbally in Arabic, and the other group circled me and apologised for his behaviour. Needless to say, I have a very positive view of Muslims since then.

I recall how during Ramadan my friend from Kuwait asked me to follow him outside and handed me some money, saying something that almost had me slapping him when I heard his first few words, "Look, you're a Jew and everyone knows that..." [Ok, you gave me money because you want me to open a savings account for you?] Then he proceeds to say, "Can you please go to the store and get me a bag of pretzels and a coke, because everyone will notice the Muslim buying food on Ramadan." So now I was becoming a religious messenger of a different type. He asked me to bring the snack to the men's bathroom because he didn't want to be caught by any of the other Kuwaities. He was afraid it would get back to his country if anyone found out he was eating during Ramadan. I had pity for him because I could only imagine how difficult it must be to concentrate on studying without eating or drinking and this guy had a deadline that day. So yeah, I confess to aiding a Muslim digress. Just another guilty feeling to add to many more.

I truly wish I had stayed in touch with all my Muslim friends from the university. But this was only the beginning days of the internet, and free email was not yet established and well known, so most students could not exchange email addresses to keep in touch. I imagine all of them returned back to their respective countries.

A year ago (Muslim calendar), I was on one of those frustrating projects, where everyone had to vent at least once a day about the stress and frustration with the job. I vented to a co-worker about never having any time to take a lunch break and being swamped with work. He agreed with me that it's getting really stressful. We talked for half an hour and then I said, "you know what, we should just go out to lunch together. Forget about the stress on this job!" He looked at me and said, "Sure. But can we do it in another month?" Shocked at his response I said, "Ok, look, you can't possibly be that stressed with work where you cannot even take a lunch break one time!!!" He laughed and said, "No. I can't have lunch because it's Ramadan."

I couldn't convince him to convert to Judaism just so we could have lunch. Stubborn Muslim. Embarrassed Jew. Perfect beginning for a new friendship.

To my dear Muslim friends around the world, including you, Mr. Nafie, I wish you Ramadan Mubarak. May the daylight seem short and may the month end soon.

Happy New Year

Today is the first day of the Jewish New Year 5766. According to the Jews the world was created 5766 years ago. Scholars are still debating how long was the first year. (In my opinion - but who's asking me - it was a very long year).

For those of you who are new to Judaism - we go by the lunar calendar. A day begins at sundown. Our new year began last night with a crescent moon. When it's a full moon, it's mid-month for the Jews. One holiday falls mid-month, on a full moon. But we have time for it. First we have five or six holidays prior to it.

Rosh Hashanna means Head of the Year. We celebrate by having a large family dinner, which begins by dipping a slice of apple in honey and wishing everyone a sweet new year. The Ashkenazi Jews prepare a head of a fish to represent the head of a new year. It's my brother's favourite, but apparently all Americans are disgusted by the idea of it. A typical New Year meal in Ashkenazi families will contain most likely chicken soup, chicken and some form of carrots. At the end of the meal a honey cake is served.

I decided to start a new tradition in the Rosh Hashanna dinner, acknowledging that I don't keep Kosher, and neither do any of my guests. And since no one likes the head of a fish, I substituted with the very non-kosher ... shrimps! My husband arranged them artistically on a plate to resemble a fish. In my opinion it looked more like Piranha. I'll have to post a photo later today. I had my mother laughing for several minutes when I called her last week to ask "how many shrimps fit in a head of a fish?" At first she had no clue what I was getting at, but once I explained it she couldn't stop from laughing. She thought it was a brilliant idea. And if I managed to make my mother laugh by inventing a new tradition, then this tradition stays - if only for the good memories it will bring me every year to hear her laughter.

Right now I'm so full from last night's dinner that I'm considering going through Yom Kippur today and getting on with the 25 hour fasting right now. But for the sake of tradition, I suppose I'll have to wait ten days for that. Of course my other choice is to convert to Islam today (next post to follow).

Rosh Hashana marks the beginning of our ten days of atonement. I'll explain this as we get closer to Yom Kippur.

I had an absolutely wonderful time last night with my best friend, Julie, her family and another new couple which she invited. I consider a good dinner when everyone at the table is laughing and having a good time. Who cares about the food?! It's all about the company you're with. It's all about friends.

For my non-Jewish friends, Jewish friends, and Jewish-wanna-be friends - I wish you all Shana Tova U'mtuka - a Good and Sweet Year.

שנה טובה ומתוקה

Opposites attract

This post is dedicated to Julie, my American best friend. Everyone needs a Julie in their life. Someone who's blunt, honest, busy, funny, intelligent, witty, opinionated (in a good way!), helpful, and has her priorities set straight.

We met 12 years ago. In class. Then, in many other classes at the community college, as we were pursuing a degree in Architecture. On the surface we had nothing in common. Ten years apart. She - with 2 kids, me with none. She had already held several jobs, me - none. We were culturally and religiously far apart. About the only time we found anything in common is when we discussed architecture. We felt passionate about the profession and education. As highly opinionated individuals, we discussed it for hours. I don't even recall if we agreed on anything. I do know that when time came to render our drawings - there she was freehanding three trees in a minute, while I was sitting and drawing meticulously a leaf on a tree. Yup, we had nothing in common. She'd come to my drafting table and look amazed at how much time I've wasted on one leaf, and I'd come over her table observing at awe how little detail she used for her trees.

Then a year into our studies, she announced to class that she was pregnant - due at the end of the semester. D. was born in January, between semesters. A week later, me being rather naiive about the parenting world and knowing how much Julie loved studying architecture, I came knocking on her door with the class catalogue for the following semester. "You're going to register for classes, right?" She laughed so hard I thought she was about to throw me out of her house. Instead, she grabbed her baby, and off we went to college to register for classes. Needless to say I paid dearly for this encouragement. She ended up leaving her baby with me in studio, as she ran off to register. Here I was, no experience with babies, and she tells me to hold the baby when she cries. I just stood there watching this tiny creature and waiting to see what happens, when she started "talking." So figuring this is the "marker-inhaling" baby, I launched into a thesis on Architectural design that would have knocked the socks off any baby! Her baby stopped babbling and listened. When Julie was back she found me mid-thesis and ...well the rest is history - and this story is often repeated in family gatherings. Her "baby" is now ten years old. She's the Harry Potter fan I took to Barnes and Noble when the last book came out in June. I'd adopt Julie's kids in a moment, and I've tried to steal them several times. But for some strange reason these kids keep wanting to go back. Go figure.

In out last class together we were to be teamed up for a design project. Someone challenged our professor about the logic of teaming up. Our professor responded with a laugh and says, "Well, of course it won't make sense to put two opposites like these two together!" as he was pointing to Julie & I. At the end of class, we both thought it was really funny that everyone else thought we were opposites and here we were becoming best friends.

Julie, her husband, and her three kids became our best friends. Julie was our real estate agent, and found us the house we live in now. It was two streets away from their house. We spent many evenings together and all Jewish holidays. Her children know more about Judaism than any other Catholic kid in their church. Julie's family is my family away from home. A family that everyone is proud of and wants to spend time with.

A few years ago they moved from their house to provide a better place for their daughters to grow up. They moved across a toll bridge, 40 minutes away from us. Our friendship remains as close. There's just nothing that can stand in the way of our friendship, and distance means nothing. Not in a friendship like this.

This Monday evening, our annual tradition of welcoming the new Jewish Year together will change places. Instead of dinner at my house, Julie's house will be hosting. Nothing will interrupt our traditional dinner. So if this holiday has to fall on a school night, we will rearrange it, so the girls will be in bed on time. Because Julie has her priorities straight. And kids come first in her family. A value that every family ought to learn from her.

I know one thing for sure - when I have kids, I'll be calling Julie daily for advice. Her kids are proof to good parenting. I don't care if she is a slacker when it comes to drawing trees. She sure can raise kids!

Julie, one day I hope to be as good a mother as you are, my dear friend. May you and your family have a SWEET NEW YEAR !

Friendly Walk

Every so often you "meet" people by some strange coincidence and you click right away. I consider myself really lucky when it comes to finding the most awesome group of friends in the world. I often wonder what on earth I did to deserve such wonderful friends. It's the positive version of the question "Why me?" Heck, I can't find a thing about me that could possibly attract any friends. I'm one of those people mentioned on other blogs under the category of 'qualities I cannot stand in the opposite gender' - "constantly complaining, high maintenance" - well, you get the picture. Yet somehow the most wonderful people on earth become my friends.

For the next twelve days I will dedicate this blog to my friends. No, it's not because I only have a dozen friends. In fact, this post starts out with two of them.

I met V.R. five years ago. Would have met her a day sooner, had she not been allergic to bees. Her first impression on me was not too great. She was a new employee and was scheduled to come in early morning. I was supposed to train her on her first day at the jobsite. Instead I got a phone call from V.R. - "Hi, I was supposed to come in this morning, but I got stung by a bee yesterday and I'm allergic to bees, and my foot is so swollen I cannot put my shoe on this morning." Yes, V.R. is a blonde. But don't let this first impression fool any of you. She's most likely the smartest blonde you'd ever meet. Actually, I think she's a fake blonde and colours her hair to match her lively personality. Within a few months we became inseparable in the office, and our co-workers and managers nicknamed us "here comes trouble" and "here comes trouble 2." Before the year ended we were best friends and introduced our husbands to this friendship. Needless to say, our husbands also got along great. Yeah, Guinness does that to men.

The past five years we had celebrated every New Year's Eve together, celebrated Jewish holidays (and they're not even Jewish!), gone out for dinners and shows, and participated in charitable events together. If we didn't live an hour apart we probably would have just moved in together and spend our time investigating how to fake our status to the adoption agency, and just circumvent the husband issue altogether. We considered posing as Lesbians who want to adopt two kids, so then we each end up with a kid. Who needs husbands anyway?! Yes, we're crazy that way.

Then there's J. whom I've known for five years as well, but have never met her. Yes, she's one of my online friends. Recently, through some very odd circumstances we became good friends. I'd like to think very good friends. But short of imposing myself on someone, I can only claim what I feel, and cannot vouch if the feeling is mutual. But dammit, I'll shoot her with a water gun if she rejects this friendship announcement!

What is so special about V.R. and J.? They make me laugh! There is no way I can hold a conversation with them without laughing my heart out. But it's not just the laughter that I cherish dearly. It's their friendship and knowing that I can trust them and tell them everything about my personal life, and they genuinely care about me. I've learned from them how to care about other people. Their selfless acts inspire me. When I grow up, I want to be like V.R. and J. - always positive, always happy, always cheerful, always with a smile on their face, always supportive, always caring about others.

So this is a post to thank V.R. for introducing me to the world of charitable activities, and walks for the cure. And for spending numerous weekends of her life helping others. I'm so proud of you, V.R. Your selfless acts constantly amaze me. I'm proud to call you my friend, dork! You did an awesome job today as Team Captain.

And this post is to thank J. for hours of laughter and your constant encouragement and support through my difficult times. Don't know what the heck I'd do without you, my friend. Your sister is damn lucky to have you in her life. I will continue to keep her in my thoughts, because we definitely need more of you guys in our global gene pool and you two deserve only good in life.

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