Last year, I was involved in a mighty kick-ass fellowship, if I do say so myself, through the Bronfman Center at NYU. Every week we met to discuss Judaism. and eat. and listen to speakers. and eat. and facilitate dialogue between Jews and non-Jews. and eat. I mean the food was delish. esp from Murray's Falafal. Holla. (p.s. I in no way work for either the Bronfman Center or Murray's, but if either would like to send me a healthy monetary "donation" for endorsing them on my hugely popular blog, they may do so...)
During one special weekend we all took a trip to the Catskills mountains for food and subsequent bonding--highlighted by a very talky speaker whose name I can no longer remember. This is not important. What is, was his overriding message that as Jews it was/is our duty to get married and multiply. youngly and verily. This is in itself not unusual. Many, many people have shared this belief with me in the past: drew my biological clock on a napkin and told me at age 19 I was on my way to becoming barren and alone (you know who you are...and I LOVE you anyways :) lamented the fact that I watch Xena, Jackie Warner, and Rachel Maddow religiously, while living in a city with only 12 straight men. However, this speech took a slightly different tact when our lecturererer dude told us a long-winded story of a woman with mental and physical disabilities who got married-- ending with the subliminal message "if she can do it, so can you. NO EXCUSES." and the actual statement, "every lid has it's pot." Now most of us, at this moment were feeling completely devoid of self-worth, self-pitying, fat, ugly, non-witty, and the like. Lid and Pot became our mantra. We repeated it with scorn, mocking it as stupid and unworthy of our attention while at the same time feeling like little pieces of shit....
I tell you now. Sitting at my computer in all earnestness...last night while watching "Runaway Bride" (no judgment) I was struck to hear Elliot Stabler (or whoever the f he was in that) say to the woman next to him at Jules' 4th failed wedding, "Every Lid Has it's Pot." Ladies and gentlemen, our collective self-worth was shattered over a year ago by a cliched, Runaway Bride quote. Does this make me feel better? Worse? I'm still in my jammies at 12:06. You may decide.
In other news. I ate cheese last night. Ghanaian parasites + Indian parasites + cheese = floor writhing.
In other, other news. I shall from now forward call object of my affections, "D," you know, for personalization purposes. D has not updated D's facebook since last Thursday. I know. I check. Multiple times an hour. If they ever do invent a way to see how many times an individual views their facebook page, I'd have myself arrested for creepiness.
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