I'm in the grocery store, wandering through the aisles, looking for a potholder.  It's the last thing on my list, and it's proving elusive.  Dinner is waiting on it.  I eventually decide to go ask a clerk where they might be located.

As I'm walking to the information desk, I think to ask for some heavenly assistance: "Please, G-d, let me find some potholders so I can make dinner soon."  My next thought is what I could do for Him.  I realize that before I went to the store, I had been eating, and had forgotten to say an after-blessing.  The proper, specific, after-blessing, I don't have memorized.  The general one, however, I do.  I start reciting it quietly to myself as I'm walking.  I finish the blessing, and I look up.

Read More...

I was inspired to write a series of blogs about the view of women in Judiasm after studying Judaics for five weeks in NY. It really peaked my interest...

A couple of months ago an acquaintance of mine mentioned that he thought the morning blessing which states "Thank you G-d for not making me a woman." was chauvinistic. My reply to his statement was that this translation alone with out interpretation can be misleading. I told him that to most people who have not had the opportunity to learn about the morning blessings will more then likely take it the wrong way, but in reality there are a few ways of explaining this blessing that are not so un-P.C.

Read More...

I recently wrote a blog submission for Chabad.org, hoping to become a regular blogger on there. Since I feel so comfortable with you guys, I've decided to post it here, as well. I'd love to hear what your thoughts are on it. Also, if you are not completely well versed on Judaism, you might have some questions about terms and stuff. Feel free to ask. Enjoy!

Read More...

thursday, nine thirty.

he was watching her watch her tea steep,

leaves like honeybee swarms -- like grocery shoppers, shopping.

she -- gently tugging the string, she -- coy-ling it around her fingertip

like slow electricity across the table from him.

he was watching her through serpentine steam

when he decided to become a lesbian.

Read More...

yesterday,

at least eight people loved me.

Read More...

 I wrote this for my friends from high school: Hannah, Josh (Joshi), Karin, Sarah (Sarita), and Ost.

 

    “Closing time…Open all the doors and let you out into the world.” Hannah and I sang to the sound of Semisonic’s Closing Time, which was playing on Joshi’s cell phone. We were sitting on the couch in Ost’s living room. In the background we could hear shotgun bangs that blasted from videogame Tom and Ost were enticed in. “Your frizzles going down fo sho, m’kaaaaay?” Ost randomly prattled at the bad guys on the T.V. screen. Sarita and Karin cuddled at the other end of the couch, listening to our voices as we continued to sing our favorite song.
    By definition a home is a shelter, but what it protects you from is not specified. I guess that means there can be many different ideas of what a home is. Some are concrete, like a house or an apartment. That is not the case for me. Mine is much more abstract in nature. It is not a physical object, but rather, a feeling. The tricky part finding what makes me feel that way. So the big question is not so much where my home is, it’s how I get there.
    “Closing time…time for you to go back to the places you will be from.” I heard Hannah’s beautiful voice harmonize with mine.“Closing time… this room won't be open 'til your brothers or your sisters come.” As I sat there surrounded by my best friends, all I could think about was how lucky I am.“So gather up your jackets, and move it to the exits… I hope you have found a friend. Closing time… every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.” We Kept singing while Ost protested “ Yeah, I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. I know who I want to take me home. Take me home...” During that last verse of the song Hannah said something I will never forget. She smiled and sighed “I want Sami to take me home.”

You know how people are always saying that you judge yourself by a more ridged set of standards than others do? I guess I've always ascribed to this theory, but only really applied it to small things like appearance or performance. An encounter with an old friend made me rethink this assumption.

Read More...

I posted a while back an essay that I had to turn in with my application to film school.  I got a bit of feedback and made some edits.  Well, I'm happy to let you all know that this past week I was notified by mail that I have been admitted to the ASU School of Film and Theatre.  Yay!  It's a new and not very prestigious program, but it's the best that I have.  Now I can get to do some serious filmmaking and I'll share in that with you.

Read More...

I had just gotten out of class, and was trekking across campus.  My car was about half a mile away.  It's my birthday on the Gregorian Calendar (My Hebrew Birthday falls on April 1st this year).  It's about 6 hours before Shabbos, and in between then and now I had (still have) a pretty packed schedule--all the usual preparations for Shabbos, plus having lunch with my dad.  All this, plus the excitement of it being my birthday, was going through my head as I walked, until I got about 20 feet past the fountain at the heart of campus.

 I felt odd.  More specifically, my legs felt odd.  Not in a medical sense, necessarily, but they seemed to resist me going in the forward direction.

 ----

Read More...

 

 

I’ve apologized to the sky

one thousand times

 

…I’m still haunted by your eyes

 

I left you buried in lies and

baptized after death with the tears I cried

but it’s no surprise;

God hasn’t replied since I’ve brought you to your demise

 

A smile to break

A child’s mistake

A lesson to be learned and a trial to face

 

Bled, love spend on nights served with

Red blood wet on white fur.

 

Read More...

So, I've been absent for a while, and I apologize greatly for this. Here is where I've been:

-I've been working a new more-than-fulltime job, trading my hours for dollars. Mostly, this has been a drag, and my co-workers represent a new, unforeseen level of abysmal. However, this job (and the people I've interacted with through it) deserve to be written about extensively.

-I broke up with the grrlfriend. This also deserves to be written about in one form or another, so I shall do so.

 -I've joined an Adult Kickball team tentatively called "The Iron Ducks". Seriously. It's been organized by my wonderful friend Mat, most of my friends have joined, and we're currently engaged in pre-season planning/strategy meetings. Games start mid-April. If we win in our division, we apparently advance to some sort of playoff bracket in Las Vegas. The entire season promises to be ridiculous, and it shall be written about, poste haste, for your reading pleasure.  

That's about it. Much love goes out to Elad for continually improving this site and constantly making it more beautiful and user-friendly. I cannot wait to catch up on things that I've missed, and to share things with you as well.

 'Nuff Said. Let's get busy.

this is my attempt at writing a very boring poem. i tried my hardest to make it boring, using passive voice, crappy verbs, adjectives, etc.

a note on the title: according to Merriam-Webster, "mean" can be defined as 1) humble or 2) characterized by petty selfishness or malice, which I think illustrates an interesting contrast between Ben and my roommate.... but i guess boring things can't be interesting, so just think of the title one-dimensionally. cool. thanks.

 

 

Mean 

 

my roommate
has been hiding
a cat in her closet, confined,
for the past two weeks

it was a stray
but our friend Alea
named it Filibuster
and was caring for it

my roommate
had decided
that even though
she already told me
and our other roommate
we couldn't have pets,
she would steal one for herself

so Ben
had written a note
and put it on my roommate's door
when he was over yesterday
that said
"We want Filibuster back!
-The Winchester"

but Ben
had decided
to take it down
because he thought it was mean

Well, I guess we're all taking a bit of a hiatus right now, seeing as it is spring break for most people and whatnot. So, while I am in my creative dearth I figured I would post something I wrote a while ago. This is a little writing exercise I did in one of my creative writing classes. The assignment was to write the worst fight we had ever gotten into. This happened to me when I was going through a manic episode (before I knew I was bipolar). As always, comments are welcome.

Read More...

Note: This is a sequel to this post.

------------------------------------------
I'm driving in my car. Watching the heat indicator (or whatever it's called) slowly climb upwards. Higher and higher. Every push I make on the gas makes the needle push forward a bit more. All I'm thinking right now is, man I hope I make it home. Oh, also I'm thinking about a former friend (emphasis on former) of mine hating me for some small thing I posted on a silly website (can you guess which one?). Plus, how I'm sad cause me and my girlfriend broke up. And then there's always Darfur.

It's around this point I come to a realization. Probably one of the deepest I've come to in a long time.

Life fucking blows.

Read More...

On Thursday, I saw a man driving a riding lawnmower down the street.  Attached to the lawnmower was a small trailer.  On top of the trailer were two large dogs, one of which was white, and one of which was black.

The man driving the trailer acted as if this were completely normal.  So did the dogs.