Escape

A difficult Saturday, I guess.

My very good friend (is "best friend" considered too grade school these days?) is moving to Arlington, VA to start a new job as a Professor. I'm excited and so proud of her, but I am also sad, angry and disappointed that my friend will be so far away from me.

Saturday morning I drove to her place to help her pack.

Boxes everywhere, stacked in every imaginable place. I boxed up her kitchen cabinets (except the pantry). As I stood carefully wrapping her dishes in stiff clean newsprint, anticipating where in the box is there likely to be space for this dish, and space for this bowl, I had ample time to mull over my negative emotions.

Eventually I found myself folding and wrapping in to each box my love and admiration for her. I even took time to hide a small box of half eaten chocolates I found in her pantry that she had gotten on some trip to a place with pretty scenery - well, at least that is what was on the box. I wrapped the box and it's glorious sunset in a piece of the crisp paper, and wrote her a note.

"I am proud of you, and love you very much" I signed it.

I stayed with her for about 5 hours, and managed to fill quite a few of her boxes, sealing them with clear packing tape and neatly hand writing "Fragile" and "Kitchen" on them all.

Saturday evening I went to a birthday party for a friend from work. It was a nice relaxed and decidedly kid oriented event. The birthday girl has a 6 week old, and there were the 2 kids of the host, plus another co-worker brought her 2 litt'lins. We swam, ate, drank and talked about all sorts of stuff - important and not.

Sunday I woke late. The heat again bothering me, I guess. Or it could have been the pre-emptive emptiness her leaving will leave.

I took myself to the stream in the hills, and caught some sun, and swam. I realize that I am a bit of a freak in the eyes of the other folks who show up. Very few of them are there to take the waters. They mostly have "other pursuits" in mind. Not that there is anything wrong with it. We all like to frolic, which is fine, don't get me wrong. But it is a little cliche, isn't it? It started to smatter with rain, and the hot air made it quite an amazing experience, especially on the trail back to the car, where I stached my towels and other assorted stuff. I figured it was better to have a dry towel than get stuck in a downpour.

The downpour never eventualized, but I was ready to head home, where I lay on the sofa, panting in the heat, before heading to bed at 8 PM!

eich zeh katuv?

Had my first hebrew class yesterday. An interesting experience, shall we say?

I like the teacher, very much. But the majority of the class were upset that it wasn't the regular teacher they had all along. They'll get over it, or they won't - my take on it is that they are the ones responsible for stepping up and adjusting.

More on that as time goes by, I guess.

It's too damned hot...

I know I am a whiner - but it is too hot. Too hot to be stuck in the freaking city anyway - blech. I resent LA in the summer. Why the fuck build a city so that it is so damned uncomfortable? Urban planning, my ass.

Saturday I went suit shopping with my soon-to-be Father-in-law'ish, Bernie. He's a pro, knows clothes like I know central lines. He had been and done a recon. mission during the week, so we made beelines to the pre-chosen options at Barneys and Saks (after a very quick glimpse at Carol & Co - a tiny bit "generationally inappropriate" for my tastes).

It was quite the shopping experience. I have never been so conscious of where an item was going to be worn before (well, with the possible exception of leather - but that's a whole other Oprah). How was it going to look in a room filled with love? How was it going to look in the quiet of the ya'hid? How was it going to look in the photos that we would show my family in December?

I have to admit, it is pretty spectacular. It is probably the most expensive garment I have ever bought - only my orthodontia are more disproportionate size-to-cost.

I tell ya tho - Armani sure feels nice - so does Boss. I ended up going with a stunning number in gray by Dolce & Gabana - for 50% of the initial price, inclusive of the alterations.

It was fun playing in the business world.

Then a few hours aside a bubbling brook - bliss. I am managing to get a bit of colour too.

Sunday I was back to what I know best - scrubs and critically ill children. I have made a financially-driven decision to return to the bedside. I feel really good about it - especially after the stuff that I coped with on Sunday. Confidentiality forbids me going into detail - and let's face it, you don't come here for the gore (do you?). Suffice it to say, I handled a really sick little girl and her parents really well, while at least two other kids went into critical mode as well.

I seem to deal with crisis (at work) like that pretty well. I was a good trauma nurse too. Good at keeping calm and focused on what needs to be do at the time - saving my melt downs for afterwards.

Today was fairly controlled - no major problems. Feel much brighter now that I have made my decision. It feels right knowing that this will be what makes a damned good whack at adoption possible.

Talmudic Times

A great teacher sits at a long table in his yeshiva, preparing to give a teaching. At the table sit his senior students, the closer they sit to their teacher the more senior they are. Those of his students who are most junior sit around the outside of the room, against the wall. The students are diverse and come from many a distant land and as a result a number of languages and faces sit in the room.

The teacher is bidding farewell to one of his students, who is about to journey to a distant and foreign land. This student had only been at the yeshiva for a short time, yet had proved themself to be able, and to have the makings of a great scholar and teacher.

As the teacher bids farewell to his senior student he makes a remark about the distant land that employed the use of a stereotypical accent of this land. Two of the teachers junior students are indeed from this place, although they have lived in the teachers court for a great deal of time. The majority of the senior students seated at the table laughed - except for one.

One of the senior students finds the comment, and in particular the use of a non-complimentary portrayal of this land to be inconsistent with the yeshiva, and in particular to have the potential to cause the junior students to feel pain and upset.

In a moment of shock the student leans to speak to the teacher, and reminds him that there are indeed students from that distant land right there in the room, and that this kind of speech is inconsistent with the great yeshiva, and the teaching that it tries to impart.

The teacher rebukes the student - not the first time - and chastises him for his zeal.

Who did the greater wrong?

The teacher, Who spoke without thought, and in doing so could sully the reputation of both himself and the yeshiva?
The senior student, Who rebuked his teacher, and in front of his fellow students?

Who caused the greater hurt?

The teacher, who could have hurt his own students?
The senior student, who - without thinking - brought attention to the short coming's of himself, and his teacher?

How is this best resolved? Does the student apologize to his teacher, and accept the rebuke of his teacher in silence, knowing that he should bend his will? Does the student justify his speaking out of turn as being the result of shock and disbelief that his teacher can indeed be unthinking, and at the very least, human?

Or does the student just say nothing, and let the sleeping dog slumber on?

Oh Say Can You See?

Well, I am back from what I can only describe as the best July 4th I have ever had!

I flew to the tiny town of Woodstock, VT, where the BF is working for the summer. It is a small, rural town, near the border with NH, about 2 hours west of Manchester (where, as convenience would have it, Southwest gladly picks you up & drops you off). It has been there for ages - and even has 4 Paul Revere bells to prove it. The streets are lined with red-brick and clap-board buildings - not a Starbucks or Blockbuster to be seen.

The rich green covered hills roll gently beside the two-lane Highway 12, thru tiny hamlets with names like Skunk Hollow and Barnet, and ancient farm buildings lean and slump beside the road, where they have obviously stood since Jefferson was a lad. Not a smacking of the urban sprawl to be seen.

Birds called out to us every morning, and continued their gentle teasing calls well into the dusk, when they were replaced by crickets and the gentle dance of the firefly.

We hiked two days - one shorter hike for an appetizer up Mt. Tom to a meadow filled to bursting with wild flowers of startling colour, grasshoppers bounded ahead of every step we took, and there were clouds to lay and watch for an age (which we did, more or less). The second longer hike - on July 4th itself - was 10 miles on the Appalachian Trail. Beyond spectacular.

Each morning after I dragged myself from the quiet comfort of slumber I made a short stroll down main street to the coffee shop where we seemed to always bump into some friendly local. Each day was a new adventure. Some local site or place of interest - including an amazing glass studio (where we spent some serious cash on seconds) in town, and a larger facility in nearby Quechee that was just fantastic.

And, my first ever Renaissance Fair - now that was a hoot, if ever there were. We had such a fun time there. I even got into the swing of things and had a fun conversation with Queen Elizabeth I - with the utmost respect and courtesy, of course.

An amazing meal at a local inn after services on erev Shabbat. I had venison (sorry you Bambi lovers out there, but it was damned good!), and some very tasty wine, too.

All too fast it was time to come back to LA - but the truly profound and delightful thing is that memory serves well if allowed to, and so I have "the number one hit of the summer" right here between my ears! And the Director will be home in 5 short weeks, or so!

Thanks doll, I had the time of my life, and I owe it all to you!

At the risk or repeating myself "I just Love ya"