Wednesday, March 18, 2015


For the first time in my adult life I am attempting to do my own taxes.

I thought it wouldn't be that bad. It is. Who designed this?! Walking across Legos is less painful.

Just take my soul. Please.

Also, I have a test tomorrow that I should be studying for.

Saturday, January 10, 2015

Cold, Heavy Regrets

It's cold, late, I'm tired, and I've left my S.O. in a warm, cozy bed.

Sleep evades me. In stead, I have been gifted with the highlight reel of my regrets. I have been laying, frozen in fear and pain watching them dance before my mind's eye. 

This happens too often.

My ghosts haunt me. They swirl around me and sit, heavily upon my chest. I plead with them and justify them. I ask them, kindly, to go. They scare me too much to demand such an action from them.

Most of my regrets have faces. If a particular regret does not directly involve a person then I, surely, have assigned a nearby person to it. I gave it a human face and now I must carry it with me.

I have read plenty of books that made use of magic and potions to make people forget things; sometimes by choice, other times by someone else's will. I long for a potion to make my regrets fade from memory. To take away the faces and feelings.

They are always temporarily forgotten. Until they're not.

Surely I carry them with me to learn something. But that can't be true. I have learned the lesson on some and I have corrected future similar situations. Yet I still carry the regret.

My regrets come in all sizes and severity. But come they do. At night. During brilliant, sunny days. Alone or next to my Love.

I don't know their point. I don't know their power. I just know...

This happens too often.

Monday, January 5, 2015

Muddy Dreams

The other night I dreamed I was crawling through mud. Sticky, difficult brown goop. 

People looked on offering no help even as I asked for none. I crawled and struggled, panting and sweating. I had no idea how to get out or even in what direction I should aim. 

Eventually I made my way to the edge of the mud and stood up, covered in the mess. It was quickly drying and hardening into clumps that hindered my movements. Exhausted and defeated I went walking in search of where I came from, but even that seemed to be a mystery.

The next night, I, of course, went in search of dream dictionaries.

To dream of mud tends to have a more obvious meaning, that you are being weighed down by something. And all of the frustration of walking through mud accompanies it.

I am amidst many situations that are weighing me down. This I know. Thanks, dream.

Then, after searching the Internet I found lovely tips on how to get out of mud. Everything from taking your second step before your first even lands to slithering like a snake when on the ground to evade the perilous mud holes. 

But the number one thing all the lists suggested; DO NOT go in muddy places alone. Always have someone with you. Maybe my answer cannot be found in how to think like a snake or how quickly I should take my steps.

Perhaps, most importantly, I should not be in the mud alone.

Sunday, December 15, 2013


Melancholy is such a beautiful word for sadness. But sad isn't what I am. I suppose I don’t have melancholy. I feel like I’m trapped in a large empty house. Devoid of warmth and people but also empty of coldness and ghosts. It is nothingness. No fire burning in the fireplace, yet no storm raging at the door. No laughter, no harsh whispers. It feels empty. It feels like nothing.

I braced myself in the shower floor, steamy water raining down on me. I braced myself for tears and the pain of rejection and loneliness. Instead, I sat there staring at the wall as nothing came. I was not happy and I was not sad; I was empty. My feelings trickled down the drain. Like a defense mechanism, built from being overwhelmed by feelings too many times. Self-preservation kicks in, and this feels like a much crueler fate than sadness.

I have been sad many times. This is not sad. This is a black hole. I don’t know where my emotions have gone, but they have vacated my person.

The walls we build around us to keep sadness out also keeps out the joy. 

                                     Jim Rohn                                     

Sunday, December 8, 2013

One Day in Paris

Terrible a thought that it is, I am terrified that I am going to die before I do everything that I want to do. (God forbid.)

It's strange how often I think about it. While I'm making my bed I run my hand over the embroidery on my pillowcase that says, "I'd rather be in Paris," and that's when it hovers over me like a dark cloud.

I've never been to Paris. The French language and culture were my first obsessions as a young girl. I tried to teach myself French and study up on all things Parisian. My great-grandmother's family is French. Of course they have been in the States since before the Revolutionary War but I was extremely proud of them. They were Huganouts who fled France for religious freedom.

I felt like I belonged in Paris. If I was quiet I could hear France call to me. I imagine one of my many times great-grandmother missed her homeland and I can feel that longing to return. Not permanently, but for a visit.

And like her, I fear I'll never see it.

(image via mariecatherine7)

Sunday, December 30, 2012

Vegetarian Update

It's official, I have been a Vegetarian for one year now. It originally started out as a month long challenge that sort of turned into a lifestyle change. I really never meant for it to be something that stuck and yet here I am, still meatless.

"I know this will be tough. I know I'll probably cry at some point. But I will at least try to do this." -Me, 12/26/11

It wasn't that tough and I didn't cry. Not even once. And I'm a huge crier so I feel like that's saying something.

(image via

This past year has been a doozy yet I never felt like going meatless added to that. And all the drama and pain that was in this year never made me reach for some dead animal's muscle to make me feel better.

I lost some weight, gained a ton of energy, and just feel fantastic.

So, there are three main reasons I started and have continued with this and I picked up these reasons one at a time.

  1. My health
  2. The environment
  3. The animals

I did not become a vegetarian for my health, I did it for the health of the chickens.  ~Isaac Bashevis Singer

Unlike Isaac Bashevis Singer, I went Veg for my health and now a year later I feel it's now more for the chickens' health. But more on that later.
All in all, I love being a Vegetarian. It has been one of the best decisions of my life! And this is not the last you'll hear of it.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Choosing Judaism

Here's a little something I wrote for my Rabbi on how I chose Judaism.

I have spent hours trying to write why I chose Judaism. What brought me here. Honestly, it's a bit fuzzy. It was years ago that I walked away from the religion of my childhood and a couple of years ago that I chose Judaism so trying to recall what made me make that decision has been hard.
But I'll start with what I remember first.

My first Exploring Judaism class the Rabbi said b'tzelem elohim, we're all made in the image of God. He continued to explain this concept saying that we can't say homosexuality is wrong because we were all made in the image of God. This was a relatively simple concept that changed my life. It, sadly, was the first time I had ever heard of such a thing. It changed how I interacted with people. How I loved and treated people.

As I dove into books about Judaism I was completely taken with ritual and blessings bringing spirituality to the everyday mundane things. As Rabbi Lawrence Kushner said, "Judaism sees only one world, which is material and spiritual at the same time. The material world is always potentially spiritual." Jewish rituals opened doors for me to make my life holy and filled with meaning and thanksgiving. As Rabbi Harold Kushner says, "making the ordinary extraordinary."
I was delighted to search out and find blessings for nearly everything under the sun.There are no lack of blessings in Judaism.

On my first Saturday to attend a Torah Study I was blown away by the wide array of comments and beliefs, multiple translations and interpretations. But what I love more than anything, is that there isn't just one right answer in Judaism. There are many right answers. I watched as some gave their opinions with fiery passion and still walked out of the class patting each other on the back wishing each other a good shabbos. The very same people that I now say shabbat shalom to. Beautiful people who act like extended family.

I fell into the rhythm of the Jewish calendar and holidays. Like a circle that never ends shabbat returned week after week greeting me like a friend. Sitting in Friday night services I recited blessings that were foreign to my lips but felt so natural. So comforting. No matter how my week was I could return to these blessings and take comfort.
As Rosh Hashanah rolled around I nervously prepared for my first Rosh Hashanah service, but my nerves calmed as soon as I walked into the synagogue. As I recited prayers with the whole community I had this feeling I had done this before. That this was not unfamiliar to me.

I suppose this is how I came to choose Judaism. Though I would argue that Judaism chose me.