Of Light Bulbs, Weddings & Jerusalem
I have a Chassidic side to my family. Mostly we don’t speak, for various reasons (as if the fact that they disowned their daughter because she’s a Lesbian – and only God knows what they think about me – weren’t enough). However, we take the upper road (or attempt to, most of the time) in our dealings with them.
Well, the Grandmother on my cousin’s side (so my Aunt’s Mother) had to go to the hospital again, so apparently, since they reached The Chassids (as we refer to them) before sundown they came to the hospital (after consulting with their rabbi to see if it was okay) though for some reason they had to bring their cell phone in a sock…we’re not really sure why; at this stage in the game of life, we just sort of accept whatever they tell us and we don’t care (for the most part) since it’s what makes them happy “oh…you have to carry a kosher pickle and two pennies, in a bag around your neck, because this somehow can be related back to our faith…sure…okay…can it be a bread and butter pickle?”
So they arrive at the hospital, everyone gets the word that Grandma Shirley is fine (baruch hashem) they walk three miles to Grandma Shirley’s house (where Grandpa Jerry lives as well) so my cousin Rachel drives with Grandpa Jerry back to their house, so they can beat them there and unlock the door (they can’t use keys on Shabbas, either, apparently)…so the first thing Gordon does (he’s the husband to Norit, and they have many, many children…though one – their lesbian daughter – they mourned, and she’s now disowned, despite Norit’s continued statements that she’s a Feminist). Anyway, the first thing Gordon does was go into the refrigerator and remove the light bulb…far be it from me to argue circuitry and faith, but I’m fairly certain the processes by which the light bulb turns on and off were set into motion well before the Sabbath…but again, to each their own.
Every time I’m forced to have an interaction with them, I just shake my head…I really can’t imagine God, who I perceive as all loving, accepting, caring (no matter how many time you yell at him in your head…and out loud…) could ever care about such minutia. Judaism teaches that you don’t have to be Jewish to get into heaven (we also don’t believe in Hell, conveniently). Judaism teaches that Judaism is not right for everyone. Judaism also teaches that you can reach God through other faiths, and that there are many, many paths up the mountain to righteousness and being a good person that you can follow that will lead you to happiness. Some (myself) choose to hold fast to the Tree of Life and the Torah, others find their way through Jesus, others Buddha…it’s all good so long as you remember what you’re being faithful for in the first place.
Okay, So The Wedding Part Already!
My Cousin Rachel attended a wedding, where the officiator was a Rabbi and an Educator from Israel (as well as the Bride’s father). She told him what I’m studying and that I was moving there (Israel) in a year and he said that he was in desperate need for people who aren’t Chassidic or Orthodox for his program (my cousin assured him that while I’m observant, I’m a far cry from Chassidic) so he told her to tell me to look him up when I get there. I told her to tell him that I accept his offer with gratitude and will certainly do so after I arrive. Who knows, maybe a job? I wouldn’t mind teaching English for awhile, while I get myself situated. I think it could be fun (and challenging, to say the least). I’ll have to ask Brigitte more about her experiences teaching English in China.
In the long run, while I always have that nagging voice in the back of my head that says ‘rabbinical school’ I view that as something that maybe I’ll do later…if I were to be a Rabbi, I wouldn’t want to work in a synagogue, I’d want to work on the streets (and to do that, you have to have money first). While I find sociolinguistics fun and while I’m certainly looking forward to Wolfgang Wölck’s course next semester, I really don’t want to work in this particular field of applied linguistics for my occupation. I still lean heavily towards Translation & Interpretation which is what I truly enjoy (translation more than interpretation). In ten years, when I’m good enough and qualified enough, I think it might be really neat to be support staff for Doctors Without Borders…but, I believe in serendipity also, so we’ll see where this road takes me.
How I Stabbed Myself in the Foot (LIterally)
So I had a carpet knife fall directly on and into my thumb toe…which of course, immediately began to spurt inordinate amount of blood for a cut that I perceive as small, though maybe deep. So I hobbled over to the bathroom after saying certain expletives to show myself and any deities present just how I felt about the situation as a whole. Cleaned the area with two alcohol prep pads, found the compound powder that stops bleeding and forms a fake scab over the area (which I couldn’t find last time I had the massive nose bleed); applied it, with pressure to the wound, stopped the bleeding, wrapped the wound, cleaned the rest of the foot…and then promptly ordered the biggest first aid kit (with…everything in it…and I mean everything…) I could find. In the long run, it’s far cheaper that I do that, then keep paying emergency room bills.
When it comes to the point at which your friends laugh at you, after each E.R. visit…it’s really better to just treat what you can on your own. I have a…knack, so to speak…for injuring myself (not intentionally or in the emo sense) I’m just clumsy…and a guy…and the two combined, aren’t really good for anyone.
It pays to come from a family that doesn’t believe so much in vacations, as they do in trips where the chance of dying or bodily harm is increased exponentially…I wouldn’t have it any other way, those trips are way more fun than going to Disney (I mean, I’m all for visiting the mouse…I just prefer the more…extreme trips).
Studying & This Weeks Schedule
This week is insane, requirements and class wise.
Morning: Linguistic Analysis I (Class)
Early Afternoon: Hear Back from the Amherst Bee, Re: Legal Announcement of the formation of an LLC…if I don’t hear from them by 12:30…harass, harass, harass.
Afternoon: Arabic Flash Cards, LInguistic Analysis II Homework & Revision
Evening: Linguistic Analysis I Extra Credit
Morning: Study for Linguistic Analysis I
Afternoon: Paauw’s Class (this one is a slight break, since I’ve already presented, now I get to watch my colleagues present).
Early Evening: Arabic III: Review Session…attempt to breathe…
Evening: Study for Linguistic Analysis II Exam, Finish typing paper, have it edited by two people. Make Revisions ASAP.
Morning: Linguistic Analysis (Class)
Afternoon: Print out individual notebooks for the two open notebook, open book exams; include all IPA Vowel and Consonant Reference Sheets, as well as individual class notes
Evening: Linguistic Analysis II (Class)
Morning: Sleep, prepare dinner, eat lots of food (you need glucose for your brain to work)
Afternoon: Paauw’s Class (eat dinner here)
Early Evening: Take Arabic III Final Exam
Evening: Breathe…but only for a minute.
Morning: Linguistic Analysis (Class)
Afternoon: Study for Linguistic Analysis I
Early Evening: Study for Linguistic Analysis II
Evening: Check for anything that needs to be submitted, submit it, go through all notebooks, add anything to print outs for the two open notebook/open book exams, prepare this packets, photo copy anything that should go in them. Get bag ready. Light Shabbat Candles, Breathe.
iolausian‘s Holiday Party, then watching the DVD of Awesomeness.
All Day: Study for Linguistic Analysis I
Linguistic Analysis I Final Examination
All Day: Study for Linguistic Analysis II
Linguistic Analysis II Exam
Breathe, Cry (if required), Resume Having Human Emotions, Clean, Vacuum, Wash Kitchen Floor, Scrub Bathtub,
Do Laundry, Relax, Hookah, Pack, Check Grades Repeatedly Until They’re Posted in Late January.
Oh, and sometime before the 13th, I have to be in a Nassau County Court, to answer a summons I’ve received for a failure to respond for Jury Duty, despite having my License and Voter Registration in Erie County, and if I don’t show, I get a bench warrant or something…yes…because I have time for this shit). And oh, that letter (along with my passport) is in my datebook, which for some reason, I cannot locate…this is just peachy.
And on that note, I’m going to make a cup of tea, and prepare for bed.