tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21602810911010146962024-03-14T02:05:29.828-04:00Your Mileage May VaryHelp yourself to a piece of my mind.Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.comBlogger350125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-18541493025123792872018-03-21T15:09:00.001-04:002018-03-21T15:09:40.192-04:00National Poetry Day<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<u>Palm Sunday, Coney Island</u><br />
<br />
clouds hang in lazy accent<br />
of a clear blue sky<br />
in this land dominated by<br />
memory, ghosts, skeletons<br />
<br />
presiding, ex-officio,<br />
the parachute jump<br />
silently observes the steady inaugural turn<br />
of the wonder wheel<br />
and the first clattering mobius orbit<br />
of the cyclone<br />
<br />
who can doubt spring?<br />
in another beach kingdom,<br />
south of this place<br />
mustachioed men swing wooden bats<br />
at leather balls<br />
squinting at the same sun<br />
as heats Brooklyn's mechanical heart<br />
toward summer<br />
<br />
Jennifer Zogott<br />
March 19, 1989<br />
<br />
Happy National Poetry Day</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-89034473266468268202017-11-28T18:03:00.001-05:002017-11-28T18:03:48.460-05:00public face<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Some afternoons, I go to Dunkin Donuts to get a coffee to go, because their flavored coffees are pretty good and I can use Samsung Pay and get points. I'm all about the points. Well, I also think it's cool.<br />
<br />
So I was there a few days ago, paying with my phone, and a middle-aged man commented on it and we chatted for a few seconds.<br />
<br />
It wasn't until I left that it occurred to me: that was a man of appropriate age and I barely took a good look, left the conversation early, and did not check for any chemistry.<br />
<br />
And when I got home, it occurred to me that even if I had thought to pay more attention, I was walking around my neighborhood totally slobbed-out, I've at least upgraded from a sweatshirt to a nice Lands End jacket, but I didn't have a speck of make-up and my hair was pulled back but possibly unbrushed, and I had no earrings.<br />
<br />
It then occurred to me that since I do pay a little more attention to my appearance when I go to Manhattan (for some reason), I can do the same for puttering around the neighborhood. So I prepare a little before I go out: make-up, cologne, earrings. I even brush my hair although there's not much I can do with it. I need a good stylist and at least a trim.<br />
<br />
I've also bought some slightly better-looking clothing: as I mentioned: a fleece jacket in lieu of a sweatshirt, some solid-color long-sleeved tees, and even a pullover sweater. It's partly in case I go to work outside the home, and partly to have something to wear besides printed tee shorts (I have 3 or 4 more tailored ones, but they're all short-sleeved).<br />
<br />
I actually think it's fun to put on make-up, and really not such a pain to remove. Plus I have a lot of urges to buy it (like earrings, it always fits), and if I don't wear it often, a lot of it just gets too old and has to be tossed after a few wearings.<br />
<br />
And, as a nod toward being less acquisitive and more experiential, I bought myself a ticket to see Gilbert Gottfried next month. (I also have one for the first showing of The Disaster Artist on Thursday.)<br />
<br />
It does sort of suck that I pretty much have no one to be experiential <i>with</i>, I have been saying for many years that I'd rather do something by myself than miss doing it, but I pretty much have no friends who are available for or interested in the things I enjoy. (Except, of course, my ex-husband, and I want to keep socializing with him on the minimal side.) I have to work toward bigger experiences, like travel, and the idea of traveling alone is fairly scary to me. But first, I need to get a passport. Then we'll see.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-58080824575045612962017-11-25T15:36:00.000-05:002017-11-25T15:36:02.445-05:00trying...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm working on getting in the habit of writing more, with the goal of writing here every day, which is Step One. I've more or less decided that the only thing I want to do for a living is write, which involves a lot of kinds of work. As far as fiction or memoir, this is Step One.<br />
<br />
I also need to take some action about freelance work, starting with re-contacting the editor of Blues Music Magazine; I recently did a review for them.<br />
<br />
I don't want to work in an office again. One of the advantages of my last job was that I wasn't sitting all day. (I can still work there part-time if I want, to bring in a few bucks.)</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-85821479112692821342017-11-23T20:28:00.002-05:002017-11-23T20:28:11.157-05:00thankful<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
This is a little challenging for me, since I am of late not much about gratitude and much more about being very depressed and glass-half-empty. But since, obviously, writing at all has not been coming easy, I thought I'd try to punch out two for the price of one.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm thankful for having this nice apartment to live in: being able to afford it, furnish it, and enjoy it. I'm thankful that it doesn't feel like a compromise and does feel like a luxury, one that I deserve.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm thankful for seeing my nephew and sister-in-law today, and somehow surprised because I didn't think I cared much about my nephew and was convinced that my sister-in-law and I didn't like each other.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm thankful that enough of my family managed to get together today, since my aunt and uncle are moving to Arizona on Monday and my dad is very sick - like dialysis-three-times-a-week sick. I'm really glad that my dad got to see his grandson, and that my nephew is concerned enough about his grandfather that his parents have arranged a couple of visits. There's some crazy dysfunction as concerns my brother and my dad, and my brother and my uncle. My brother was not present.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm thankful to have enough money not to have to rush into a job, although I'm very unsure about what I want to do or even if anyone will hire me to do anything.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm thankful for my friends, and in particular for my little posse from my last job, who have stayed in touch and hung out with me. They're real gems. One of them and his girlfriend took me out to lunch on my birthday. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm thankful that I finally realized it was important for me to finally have surgery to correct my stress incontinence. I suffered with it for about 25 years, and it did nothing but get worse. The operation was six weeks ago tomorrow. Needless to say, I'm also thankful for health insurance even though I pay a mint for it under COBRA. (The surgery was covered except for a $50 co-pay.) </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm thankful that I've healed well from the surgery and that it did what I needed it to do.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm thankful that my ex-husband went to the hospital with me and stayed with me for a couple of days after the surgery. Having said that, I'm also thankful I don't live with him any more.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm thankful for a really good therapist who has helped me tremendously over the past seven years. Although she now says that I need to focus on the experiential rather than the material to dig out of this funk; in other words, I need to do more stuff instead of acquiring more stuff. Right now, I am responding to her many suggestions that I do more writing.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm also thankful that I got to review Zeke Schein's book for the October issue of Blues Music Magazine, which would be on your newsstand now if newsstands still existed. I dare you to find a copy.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-58426654980854295522017-06-10T08:28:00.000-04:002017-06-10T08:28:03.949-04:00a job over and done<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
What a nice thing it is to finally cancel that Monday-Friday alarm.<br />
<br />
I actually had a very lovely last day yesterday. I didn't tell any of the clients that I was leaving until Thursday, and all of them knew on Friday, as my little going-away cake was on the calendar. (And someone must have remembered that I like ice cream cake!)<br />
<br />
So I got hugged all day yesterday, over and over by some of the same women. Even some of the more religious guys who limit their contact with women to a high-five/fist bump/handshake gave me a hug. I had an easy group and activity and one of my "buds" as co-counselor. Did my last ass-wiping, my last daily goals.<br />
<br />
I'll see my buds again, and also some of the women counselors I had dinner with the week before last. The woman who arranged it chose a non-kosher restaurant, which weeded out our manager and one of the more sanctimonious counselors. We had a blast.<br />
<br />
The only thing that hurts is that I was very close to a client who is very low-functioning, and did not understand that I was leaving. It was hard not to be able to say goodbye to her. She only speaks a few words, but we communicated with pictures and gestures; she is quite funny and sweet. She likes to hold my hand. She was in my AM group (9:30-10:15) every day, and enjoyed looking at pictures on my phone, especially pictures of herself. For a while, I was taking pictures of her almost daily. She would see one, and either point at herself, or say in her tiny voice, "Me."<br />
<br />
It was close to 80 degrees yesterday, so I changed into sandals before my book club. As usual, we barely discussed the book, ate good Vietnamese food, and chose another book. I love my book club.<br />
<br />
Then I got home around 9:00. There was still a drop of light in the sky. </div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-76352537807724368522017-05-31T07:54:00.000-04:002017-05-31T07:54:26.474-04:00no surprise here<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I gave notice at my job. As much as I love the clients, let me just say that I'm increasingly unhappy with the way things are run at my location, as well as having some real doubts about how the upper management does things. I'm leaving at the end of the week, a few days after we put on our play. I've been working very hard on the play (a cut-down version of "Annie"), and this will enable me to see the play through to completion and then avoid some rather unpleasant things coming up.<br />
<br />
Here's one: at the end of June, they're "temporarily" moving the second dayhab in with us, meaning an influx of about 40 older clients, about ten counselors, and their manager. We already have about 60 clients and 18 staff...and only four bathrooms for clients - there is a staff bathroom accessible by a button-code lock. Our clients go up to around age 60, and theirs are 60 and up, though this is a rough estimate of the division. But our people are mostly in their 20s and 30s, and theirs are mostly elderly - involving a lot more bathroom needs and incontinence. This is "temporary" because a new building which is supposed to house the entire organization, including both dayhabs, is supposed to be completed at the end of the summer. It was supposed to be completed at the end of <i>last</i> summer. So the extreme overcrowding may be indefinite.<br />
<br />
Of course, I'll miss a couple of the perks, like Jewish holidays - I'm now off for two days for Shavuous. (However, the only national holidays we get off are Thanksgiving and July 4.) And learning a lot about Judaism, since I never even knew what Shavuous meant until I started working there. And I love some of the counselors dearly. But I surely will not miss the shitty pay, or the client who punches me when she's caught misbehaving (usually it's stealing food or soda). But the perks are few and far between.<br />
<br />
I can fortunately afford to be without a job for a time. I'm planning to try the usual nonprofits, universities and analytic institutes, but someone suggested to me that I also try city and state government. I also plan to (finally) study grant writing this summer, which may result in improved opportunities in nonprofit.<br />
<br />
I love living in my new apartment. There are small problems, like the kitchen and bathroom being a little smaller than I'd like, though the living and bedrooms are really big. The five closets and endless kitchen cabinets are also great. I'm slowly but surely filling the place up. I bought end tables (mid-century modern, natch - they pretty much match the coffee table) and two bookcases and a recliner that looks like a regular living room chair.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3njDU8tzWnk/WS6pd0fcu-I/AAAAAAAAAgk/dl2AN5b4RhE7vHSHkBPw_s2DHbfBYk8ogCLcB/s1600/20170418_092318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3njDU8tzWnk/WS6pd0fcu-I/AAAAAAAAAgk/dl2AN5b4RhE7vHSHkBPw_s2DHbfBYk8ogCLcB/s320/20170418_092318.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I have a TV table and three little tables, and am waiting for delivery of a microwave stand and a file cabinet.<br />
<br />
The orchid count is now up to seven, five of them in bloom. They are all in my bedroom, and though only two of them are scented, the room has a green, planty-smell that I just love.<br />
<br />
Because I had to learn to care for them, I've amassed a pretty good amount of beginner-level information about orchids in general. I have really good indirect light, and a humidifier, so they're pretty much thriving.<br />
<br />
I bought four African violets for the living room - two standard and two mini. Less successful with them: they all dropped their blooms pretty soon after I got them, though their leaves are growing well. Don'r really know if they'll ever rebloom. The original plan was to have orchids in the bedroom and violets in the living room, but I think there are going to be more orchids in the living room. There doesn't seem to be any such thing as enough orchids.<br />
<br />
The place keeps me busy. In addition to new-home stuff (arranging new decorative and useful items), there's always laundry, vacuuming, dishes and such. I find I come home and see something that needs doing, which turns into an hour or two of work. Then I need a fast, light dinner, which is probably why I've dropped about nine pounds without really trying.<br />
<br />
I have a huge list of chores for today and tomorrow, some of which are computer-and-paperwork oriented, but there's also a table to be assembled, laundry, taking a load of cardboard boxes to the trash and vacuuming. Also need to figure out and prep the headphone system for my TV. But there's a dinner tonight with the female dayhab counselors - the person who planned it chose a non-kosher restaurant, which eliminates a few possible attendees (one of which, fortunately, is my manger). And tomorrow I'm going to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden for the first time in years and years, because of a free pass, roses, orchids, and June in general.<br />
<br />
I lived about five blocks from the Gardens when I was a kid, and we went all the time. It was free to get in, and 25 cents to get into the Japanese Gardens. I knew the place pretty well. It now costs $15 to get in, In a bid to get members, I was sent a free pass for a weekday, and they're offering a year's membership for $55. I should also mention that for the past 11 years, if was very difficult to get there from where I was living; but now, one subway. Given that I should be pretty free this summer, and that it's a really good deal, I'll probably buy a membership.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-13726196666809891532017-05-12T06:02:00.000-04:002017-05-12T06:02:29.988-04:00really not a good thing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I keep the confidences of my workplace. There are thing that are funny and things that are annoying and people I really enjoy. But we're not supposed to talk about it and I keep that promise.As I may have mentioned, I work in a day center for developmentally disabled adults. It has a lot of up and downs.<br />
<br />
Here's a hypothetical from such a workplace: you're a counselor, in a van with 5 or 6 clients, and another counselor is driving. A few minutes into the ride, you notice the driver is texting while driving. You tell him to stop and he does. A few days later, you report this to the manager. You don't like the idea of ratting out this popular counselor, but neither do you want him endangering a van full of clients - or you, for that matter.<br />
<br />
The manager asks for a lot of information: the day, time, destination. She promises she will speak to the counselor.<br />
<br />
After a few days, it starts to look as if she hasn't spoken to him at all. It would have been clear to him who made the report, but he's friendly as ever to the reporting counselor. Doesn't talk to her about the incident or the report, greets her with the same smile as always. And he continues to drive his morning and afternoon routes and to take clients to activities.<br />
<br />
A week later, he's named senior counselor, second in command to the manager. And still driving.<br />
<br />
What can be made of this?</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-54466684558567311232017-04-21T18:16:00.000-04:002017-04-21T18:16:10.214-04:00my buds<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Had a get-together today with this interesting little posse I have, three guys who are in their twenties, my work pals. I don't want to say too much about them, because of what I <i>am</i> going to say, but I can say that we have fun as a group and that each of us has a good one-on-one connection with each of the others.<br />
<br />
There is another woman who is also close with them; we were together with the group at someone else's house. I don't invite her to my house because she can be a bitch, which we all know and which isn't the worst thing; but she is the only person in the group who is condescending about my age and tries to make me feel bad about it. That is not my kind of bitch.<br />
<br />
Two of the guys have helped me immeasurably by assembling my dinette set and both of my bookcases. They say they like doing it. I thank them profusely anyway. I can assemble fairly easy stuff, but those were a little above my pay grade.<br />
<br />
They are all interesting and have some similarities and some differences. Two are ex-Orthodox. Two are ambitious. Two are gay. One is a great teacher. One is a natural businessman. Two keep tropical fish and are really pushing me to get a tank.<br />
<br />
One of them said today that this apartment looks just like me, and this really pleases me. I don't even have anything on the walls yet. One of the other ones studied my plants and odd objects closely. One fell in love with my new vintage travel alarm clock. One fell in love with my secretary.<br />
<br />
They're all kind of poor fellas (as I would be if I were living on my paycheck), so I don't talk closely about the pricey things, but I do talk about the cheap stuff; the travel alarm clock cost me about $8 or something.<br />
<br />
I love my guys. They're sweethearts. They're interesting. They're good company. They're fun friends.<br />
<br />
But no fish tank for me. I'm sticking with high-maintenance plants, and I'm naming them. Phoebe and Susan the African violets somehow became Phoebe and Carol. Both doing well - no pix yet.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jv0iWwl1bd4/WPqAcK28PvI/AAAAAAAAAfM/AoZxSXx1EVoB5hEiBB5mAoVFm0IjUeaSwCLcB/s1600/Bella.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jv0iWwl1bd4/WPqAcK28PvI/AAAAAAAAAfM/AoZxSXx1EVoB5hEiBB5mAoVFm0IjUeaSwCLcB/s320/Bella.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Bella was just popping a third bloom when I took this (she had two when I got her), and now she's working on her fourth. She and Phoebe and Carol all seem pretty hearty, all popping new blooms.<br />
<br />
But Stella and Clara the mini-violets, and Greta the mini-orchid, did not do well when I was away for four days a couple of weeks ago. Stella and Clara lost their blooms, but their leaves still look okay, so I'll keep caring for them. Greta is pot-bound and seems to have some rotting roots, and her stalk died, but I'm going to transplant her and take off the dead or sick stuff, and see if she comes back. She still has some good leaves.<br />
<br />
Anyway, they are devoted herbalists, and always get me pretty floaty. Today was no exception.<br />
<br />
It's too early to eat, and I'm not level-headed enough to do much housework. Luckily, I did laundry yesterday. I did just do as many of the dishes as I could, and when they dry, I'll do the rest. Dishes really have to be done twice a day, and if I fall behind even once, it sucks. </div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-76613211405216086932017-04-14T22:19:00.000-04:002017-04-14T22:19:05.762-04:00book club!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I finally, finally got back to my book club tonight, after something like 4 or 5 months. Amazingly, all eight of us were there (some of the folks travel or live part-time elsewhere).<br />
<br />
I was asked to join the club by someone I knew at PPSC; we got to know each other better after I left as Facebook friends, and she invited me to join maybe 9 months ago. They are a fabulous bunch: old lefties, five women and three men, mostly older than I am. They all either work in or retired from helping professions. All of the women wear arty jewelry.<br />
<br />
We go to a restaurant once a month and discuss the book a bit, but mostly schmooze. There's a whole procedure in place for choosing the next month's book, and this seems more serious than discussing this month's book. Each person can propose up to two books (one of the men brings something he's written to promote his book choices), and then we can each vote (secret ballot) on two nominated books. One of the other guys always brings slips of paper and golf pencils for the vote. It's kind of cute.<br />
<br />
Since we only meet once a month, it's been a little rough for me to keep track of everyone's names, how they're connected, what they do or used to do. I was terrified that I wouldn't remember a thing after all these months, but after a short time, I had all the names. We had been going for a while to a nice Szechuan restaurant on St. Mark's Place (on the site of the renowned Electric Circus, which later on hosted some grungy AA meetings). But that restaurant closed, so we went to Saigon Market tonight.<br />
<br />
Everyone was so glad to see me again, which made me really happy, since I'm the new kid. With eight people around a round table, it's impossible to have just one conversation (though we do it for the brief book discussion). Everyone was concerned about my health and wanted to hear about the new apartment. I'm not super-close with anyone yet, although I did ride the subway partway with one woman and we got to have a nice chat. I feel very relaxed with them. It's such a good, good thing in my life.<br />
<br />
I've been hella busy. I had been so crazy arranging the furniture delivery times that I thought both pieces were coming Saturday, when in fact they came yesterday. Good thing I had a slow start and hadn't yet gone out on many errands! The coffee table is great, and Lars himself delivered the small dresser. Lars himself is so lovely. He stuck around for a few minutes and admired the progress on the apartment.<br />
<br />
Today was the big errand day. I went down near Kings Plaza and went into Gothic Cabinet (just in case they had a floor model of the wooden file cabinet that I love but think is too pricey); then into Bob's and Raymour & Flanagan to look at recliners. I remembered vaguely that I'd seen one I liked at one of those stores when I was pre-shopping. (It may have been in the couple of weeks between signing my lease and my accident.) I remembered it as being yellow and tweedy. Bob's had a lot of those big ugly leather recliners (some had electric up-and-down), and one push recliner that I liked, a nice blue fabric, but the wooden arms had an obvious and ugly veneer,<br />
<br />
Then I went into R&F, let a sales guy show me a few recliners, and then I spotted the one I'd seen before - which was not yellow and tweedy, but a nice tan-ish print. And it's a push recliner, and doesn't look like a recliner - it looks like a nice accent chair. I tried it out for back comfort, and pulled the trigger. It will be delivered on Tuesday, Then I went into Kings Plaza, to browse a bit but mostly to pee, then took the bus down Avenue U a bit to check out a plant nursery I'd seen online, Came home with two big African violets, Phoebe and Susan, for five bucks each. Then back on the bus down Avenue U to pick up my prescriptions, then home.<br />
<br />
I haven't managed to do much housework except for two loads of laundry, vacuuming the living room, and wet-Swiffering the bathroom. It'll all get done.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow I have therapy in the city at 11, and I suspect a stop at Union Square on the way home. Sunday I have a long dental appointment: temporary bridge and I suspect some work on the crown (I never had a crown before, so I'm not sure what that entails). It's supposed to be a beautiful day so I may mosey on down to Coney Island. Monday has nothing scheduled yet, so I expect I'll be cleaning, maybe go to the Botanic Gardens if it's nice out or a movie if it isn't. Don't know yet when the chair will come on Tuesday.<br />
<br />
Then back to work Wednesday.<br />
<br />
When I came home, there was some sort of candlelight procession half a block from home. I asked one of the candle-carriers what it was for. He said, very seriously, "the resurrection of Christ." That's my reminder to call Mary on Sunday to wish her happy Easter.<br />
<br />
Time to see if I have a copy of The Handmaid's Tale and then some TV - probably the new MST3K on Netflix.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-36376934269620037572017-04-13T10:44:00.000-04:002017-04-13T10:44:54.648-04:00peace<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"Peaceful" is a good word for living in my own home. There's quiet if I want it; any noise comes from me or my doings.I'm close to being unpacked but there's still furnishing and decorating to be done.<br />
<br />
I was at Jannah's new house this weekend. It's a compact version of her old house, on one floor instead of two. There are still upper and lower outside decks, only now they face a little canal which is shut off one one end and leads to a bay on the other. She brought her furniture and decor, so it has much of the feeling of her old home. It is perfectly lovely and comfortable. Considering that she was in the old house 20+ years and so not a frequent mover, she did a very nice job. I also met a couple of really great women over the weekend, which was a big plus. I need to make new friends as I can.<br />
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My bookshelves (one in the bedroom, one in the living room) are assembled and already have books and <i>tchochkes</i> (Yiddish for knick-knacks) on them. Also plants. I decided that since I can't have a pet, I'd get some high-maintenance plants and name them. The two mini-African violets, Clara and Stella, live in the living room. Clara did not do that well over the long weekend; I run the humidifier when I'm home. The mini-orchid, Greta, also did not do well; I suspect she needs to be transplanted. A new full-sized orchid, Bella, joined us yesterday, and she is about to pop a new bloom.She is about the prettiest thing I've ever seen.<br />
<br />
Since I get a LOT of dry steam heat here, I bought humidifiers for the bedroom and living room - initially just for me, but both the violets and the orchids like humidity. I've moved my secretary to the living room, since I did not want to have a desk chair in the bedroom. Works better out here, though I still need the desk chair.<br />
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I'm adjusting to using my first-ever laptop. I've figured out how to use it as a "media server" so I can watch movies from my hard drive on my smart TV. (The TV is ever-so-smart.) I am much in favor of cord-cutting, and the Sharp/Roku TV has made it much easier. Between wi-fi, Sling TV, Hulu and Netflix, HBO and Showtime, I pay around $100 a month. I have more channels than I can possibly watch, and I watch a lot less TV. There is too much puttering to be done around here.<br />
<br />
I am off from work this week and Monday and Tuesday next week for Passover. (The Jewish holidays are one of the best things about my job.) It's ended up being a busy time: I was at Jannah's from Friday night until Tuesday morning (had the first Seder there), went to the second Seder at Elise's on Tuesdays night (wasn't sure I'd be invited since my separation, but I was indeed included). Yesterday, Howard and Tina (my uncle and aunt, who live near Princeton, NJ) came into town, and we had lunch near Union Square (Blue Water Grill - yum!), and walked around the Greenmarket and a few stores nearby. (Got Bella at the Greenmarket.)<br />
<br />
Today and tomorrow will involve the last of the unpacking, housecleaning and laundry, getting my hair trimmed and picking up prescriptions, and going down by Kings Plaza to look at recliners in the furniture stores. Tomorrow night is my book club. Saturday I have therapy at noon (my therapist finally has an office in Manhattan - we've been having Skype sessions for months), then I rush home to get furniture deliveries. I have a walnut coffee table coming, and also a lingerie chest from Lars. (Have I mentioned Lars, my wonderful Danish mid-century furniture guy, from Lanoba?) Sunday I have the dentist at 11, and no plans yet for Monday or Tuesday. Probably whatever cleaning I didn't get to, maybe a trip to Doody (home center) for a new pot for Greta, and some orchid soil.<br />
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<br />
I still have to plug my phone into my laptop to retrieve some photos; I still haven't figured out how to get it done wirelessly.<br />
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My dental work is entering the home stretch. I've already gotten two bridges to replace the protruding "vampire teeth" I had in front. Next is a bridge and a crown on the right side of my mouth. Then I'm done. After a number of years with this dentist, he and I are accustomed to each other so I'm not afraid he'll hurt me. I have a sensitive mouth. My mouth will soon be quite nice.<br />
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My dad has not been well. He went into kidney failure a number of weeks back. He's home now, but going to dialysis three times a week. He's finally starting to adjust a bit and is no longer exhausted all the time. But he still doesn't want visits. Between the dialysis and dad's new special diet, Mary is running herself ragged...but doesn't want any help. I can only respect their wishes. It's also driving Howard and Tina nuts (Howard is dad's younger brother).<br />
<br />
Time to do some dishes and make breakfast. More to come/</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-287134799024896582017-03-23T18:15:00.001-04:002017-03-23T18:15:56.777-04:00on my own<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I respected Barry's wishes not to post anything here or to Facebook until it was a done deal. It's a done deal. We have been separated for a little over a week. The beautiful new apartment is mine, not ours.<br />
<br />
I realized about eight months or so ago that I no longer wanted to be married to him, but I was a little too chickenshit to say so to him. So we went to three sessions of marriage counseling with two different counselors. The first counselor was too chatty on our dime, and seemed to be invested in saving the marriage. The second one was really straightforward, asked correct and direct questions, and it was decided.<br />
<br />
I was supposed to move a couple of weeks after my accident, but I was laid up for quite a while. I returned after eight weeks, made it through 3-1/2 days, and then spent another two and a half weeks at home and in physical therapy. So I finally moved last Monday,<br />
<br />
The sorting and packing was horrendous, but starting to live on my own again was easy. My sophomore year at SUNY-Binghamton, I got my own apartment; I knew after one semester on campus that roommates were not for me.When I moved back from Binghamton in 1980, I lived with my mother and stepfather for a year, then got my own place, then moved in with a boyfriend for about a year. So I mostly lived alone for 20 years, lived with Barry for about 19 years, and here I am by myself again.<br />
<br />
It helped that I was moving into a great place: great apartment, great building, great neighborhood. I slept like a baby my first night in my new queen-sized bed, new mattress, new sheets, new comforter and duvet cover. Set up my wi-fi and new TV right away (I bought a smart TV, and am now an official cord-cutter). Everything is basically new except my mother's ancient beat-to-shit cedar chest, which I may sell.<br />
<br />
I never bought either of those chairs, but I did buy two identical bookcases (a wood-tone one for the living room, and a blue one for the bedroom), and a TV stand (all yet to be assembled). Real oak shades in the living room windows, and blue vinyl mini-blinds for my bedroom (put up by my outstanding super, Reggie). There's a small trash chute and recycling bins on my floor, and a laundry room on the lobby floor (the laundry machines are quite new and the laundry room, like the lobby and hallways, is spotless).<br />
<br />
I also bought an oak secretary and a small teak mirror (both vintage) from my pal Lars at Lenoba.<br />
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The kitchen and bathroom are both a little smaller than I like, but the bedroom and the living room are big, and I love the dinette to pieces. And did I mention the five closets? Two huge, two small, and a small linen closet.<br />
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Most of the apartments I've had never really felt like a long-time home, so I never really nested. I lived among cartons. I was very afraid that I'd be lazy and live among cartons again, but I'd say I'm about 3/4 unpacked by now. It helps a lot that I had good storage space, that I pared down my belongings before moving, and that I had the money to furnish from scratch. And that I love this apartment and can see staying here for a very long time.<br />
<br />
I'm located a block and a half from Kings Highway in Brooklyn, about 3-1/2 blocks from the B/Q station at Kings Highway. It takes me 15-20 minutes to get to work. KH has all kinds of good shopping: greengrocers and delis and Russian gourmet stores, a dry cleaner and a housewares store and a hardware store. Within the ten or so blocks of KH between Ocean Avenue and Coney Island Avenue, there's a TJ Maxx and a few boutiques and shoe stores, a Rite-Aid and a Duane Reade and a Walgreens, numerous banks (including mine), some restaurants (Turkish, Russian, and a Chipotle to boot), two Dunkin' Donuts and a Starbucks. All that's missing is a supermarket and a movie theater. (The Walgreens used to be the Kingsway Theater; I shop at a good supermarket across the street from my job and have it all delivered.)<br />
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I still need two chairs for the living room (I was going to pull the trigger on the first chair in my last post, but it had already sold). I need a microwave stand for the kitchen and a garbage can. I may ditch the TV stand and get a wall mount. I need at least one end table and a plant stand and plants. (My friend Charles had been making ultra-cool planters and lamps, and I will get at least one planter from him.)<br />
<br />
Two of my wonderful work friends assembled the dining table and chairs. I am good friends with three middle-twenties guys at work; we occasionally get together and avail ourselves of herbal remedies on Fridays, when we get out of work at 2. There are a few women who are close to Charles, who is the social butterfly of the group and usually arranges the parties, but they are drinkers rather than herbalists and like to go to bars. One of them sometimes joins us, but she's actually the only one I don't care for. She's the only one of the entire group who treats me like I'm too old. Charles' roommate often joins us. Next get-together is here, a week from Friday, and will also include a co-worker of Barry's, who is friends with one of the other guys, lately friendly with me, and fits right in. My three closest friends, my guys, are a great mix: one black and gay, one ex-Orthodox and gay, and one ex-Lubovich California boy. (The Lubovichers are an Orthodox sect who actively recruit non-religious Jews.)<br />
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Anyway, my 45-minute writing alarm went off, which means it's time to do some more work here. I promise to post more photos as soon as I can figure out how to get my phone to talk to my computer.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-87432268558402288972017-01-03T09:52:00.000-05:002017-01-05T08:23:13.533-05:00mending quite nicely<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm on the brink of re-entering my life, which is a happy place and also a little scary. I'm starting physical therapy today and going back to work on Monday. And of course, I have to start getting ready to move.<br />
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The packing is not so onerous, but the throwing-away is. I am determined not to have clutter, I will certainly have boxes of cluttering stuff stowed away in my many closets (box of family photos, yarn, jewelry materials), but a lot needs to be thrown out on this end.<br />
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I arranged some time back for my good friend John to pick up all books, CDs, DVDs and clothing that we don't want, and that was done a couple of weeks before I fell. The clothing has been donated, and John will keep the rest for his occasional garage sales. John may be pressed into duty again, as the kitchen counter I've decided on is from Ikea, which will require a car and a cool head. I always hear that shopping at Ikea is a horror, but maybe going to buy one thing and one thing alone will make it easier.<br />
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A lot of essential things are already in place at the new apartment. I have two rugs (one still needs to be rolled out), my bed and mattress and dresser, and a dining table and chairs that still need to be assembled. Barry arranged for some larger items to be brought over there: my blender and microwave, TV, and my dishes, flatware, comforter, sheets and towels, and shower curtain. That's a lot of what I'll need to get started.<br />
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Over the past couple of weeks, I've bought some more things online, like a sink drainer, kitchen canisters, ice cube trays, a salad spinner and such, Shopping is so much easier than packing!<br />
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I have my laptop and have to go on Carbonite and get my files downloaded to it. It's my first-ever laptop, which is pretty exciting. My tech plan is to cut the cable, get wifi and stream everything to the TV; I did a little research and got a Sharp-Roku TV. Barry bought one for himself (he's renting a room, and wanted a new TV for it), which we set up here, so I've been able to get acquainted with it. I'm figuring on doing Sling TV, HBO and Showtime, and I already have Netflix and Hulu. At some point, I'll buy some speakers for playing music, which is almost entirely on my hard drive. (I'm looking forward to getting the music and photo files onto my laptop, and deleting all of Barry's stuff.)<br />
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Somewhere along the way, I bought a new phone, upgrading from a refurbished Galaxy S4 to a brand new Galaxy S7. It's my first-ever brand-new top-of-the-line smartphone. I got a pretty cheap price buying it from Samsung instead of from my carrier. I had been dithering about it for a couple of months, but began to realize that, since I had the money to do it, I ought to spend as much on my phone as I did on my laptop and my TV - I use the phone just as much as the other electronics, probably more. (I am a fierce online bargain shopper, and each of those items cost me a little over $500.) I am in love with my phone - it's the first one I've fond to be really well-organized and intuitive. And it's so fast!<br />
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And speaking of dithering...I've had a really hard time pulling the trigger on any high-ticket items. The first one was my bed, which is why it didn't arrive until around three weeks after my original move date. The bed and the mattress were quite expensive, but I knew for sure that this was one place not to go cheap. (My dining set was really cheap.) The second pricey item that was killing me was a sofa. I've never bought one before.<br />
<br />
Once I decided on a color scheme for the living room (earth tones), I started looking at mid-century-styled sofas. I was trying to keep it under $1,000, and was having a bitch of a time trying to find a style I liked in a color I liked in that price range. I decided to relax the minimum price a bit, and found some I liked more. I had fifty sofas on my Pinterest, and looked at them over and over. I even requested a fabric swatch for one, but it seemed too scratchy. I thought if I was going to buy online, I'd either need to buy velvet or chenille, or else get swatches. (When I was a little kid, we had a great sofa that was scratchy. It didn't make any sense to me to buy a brand-new sofa and then have to put a throw on it because the fabric was uncomfortable.)<br />
<br />
Then yesterday, lo and behold, I went to the Gothic Cabinet website (which was where I bought my bed). They don't have a lot of upholstered furniture, but they did have a comfy-looking dark brown leather sofa reduced to $599. I ordered it almost immediately. It's not a mid-century style, but the apartment certainly will not me all mid-century modern, and this sofa will certainly never be too precious-looking. Like the bed, the sofa must be comfy and well-made. So I'll have my sofa in 5-6 weeks. Choosing chairs should be less traumatic.<br />
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The dresser was a whole other story. It was the first piece of furniture I bought. I spent a lot of time looking at the website <a href="http://chairish.com/">chairish.com</a>, which has a ton of actual vintage mid-century stuff. I spotted a Danish teak dresser, dead simple, and it kind of put me in a trance...I just jumped on it. Chairish, something like eBay or Etsy, has items sold by individuals, so you pair through Chairish but end up dealing with the individual seller as far as delivery and shipping. They have stuff all over the country so you can end up paying hundreds of dollars for shipping. But you can also sort it by city, so I was able to look only at NYC-area items. My dresser was in New Jersey, owned by an actual Danish person named Lars, and he couldn't have been nicer to deal with. When the dresser came, Lars had included some information about the piece, a bottle of oil and instructions about oiling the piece, and a tin of Danish butter cookies for good measure. This is where you can find Lars' Lovely Danish Modern furmiture: <a href="https://www.chairish.com/shop/lanoba">Lanoba</a><br />
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The dresser:<br />
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And here are some more pictures. This is the bedroom rug - the bedroom will feature blue.<br />
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It's a fake faded Oriental. The sheets and duvet cover are dark blue.<br />
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Living room rug:<br />
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Also new and not expensive.<br />
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The sofa:<br />
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Two crazy vintage chairs I'm considering for the living room:<br />
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These are both vintage and I'll probably get one or the other. I love the second one, though not the metal legs. The first one looks like it sits very low, so I'll have to double-check the measurements.</div>
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Dining table and chairs - the actual chairs I ordered are white, not blue:</div>
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For china, I'd had my heart set on vintage Iroquois Informal, Garland pattern, designed by Ben Seibel. I've actually owned four bread plates and the sugar and creamer for some years now. Here's Garland:<br />
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But the pattern was simply too hard to find. The dinner plates were impossible.<br />
<br />
I was thinking of doing a mash-up of different Ben Seibel Iroquois Informal patterns, but then I discovered - Canonsberg Temporama! Still vintage, still mid-century modern, but way cheaper and more available. So I bought plates and shallow bowls and deep bowls:<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qj_cGY4F4mg/WGuzvNSW_9I/AAAAAAAAAcc/grfXUuRkZmEHPFpKVlhcNOaOSsnEVyEgACLcB/s1600/temporama%2Bplates.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Qj_cGY4F4mg/WGuzvNSW_9I/AAAAAAAAAcc/grfXUuRkZmEHPFpKVlhcNOaOSsnEVyEgACLcB/s1600/temporama%2Bplates.jpg" /></a></div>
It's hard to see the detail from this photo. Here's another:<br />
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Last picture is of bathroom towels. I decided to do the bathroom in green.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lRpVv_ZUHIg/WGu11zUfCoI/AAAAAAAAAcw/IsWeCNoGlbYhI3d3a8LneTjPyJrxkTz4QCLcB/s1600/towels.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lRpVv_ZUHIg/WGu11zUfCoI/AAAAAAAAAcw/IsWeCNoGlbYhI3d3a8LneTjPyJrxkTz4QCLcB/s1600/towels.jpg" /></a></div>
So things are starting to shape up.<br />
<br />
I'm still trying to decide where a few things will go. I want a desk and file cabinet for my bedroom, and possibly also a reading chair. I'm hoping to finish the living room with two chairs, a coffee table and probably an end table or two, maybe an ottoman; some sort of credenza or cabinet for the TV (and to store DVDs etc.), and a bookcase (for books and also various vases and tchochkes). One of the chairs will certainly be a recliner.<br />
<br />
There is a dinette right in front of the kitchen, but a table and chairs there may hinder access to the kitchen! So there's a chance that the dining area may be in a corner of the living room. Barry has offered a suggestion that I put the desk in the dinette, but I kind of hate that. Still, it may end up there, or in the living room (if the dining table lands in the dinette). I think I'd prefer to having the bedroom double as a den, with the desk and a chair with reading lamp. (A reading lamp sounds a little weird, considering that I do 95% of my reading on a tablet, but I like the idea anyway.)<br />
<br />
I still need shades. I am dithering about shades. I think I want wood or faux-wood blinds for the living room, and lightish blue mini-blinds for the bedroom. I have not been able to find blue mini-blinds anywhere, even though I had them when I lived in Brighton Beach. And installing them seems a daunting task, although I guess that's a job for the super, or a friend with a drill.<br />
<br />
And the kitchen - not enough counter space, needs an island. And I'm buying as much kitchenware in red as possible. I have a red microwave and blender and dishtowels and a dish rack and canisters. The kitchen will eventually have little red curtains and a hanging pot of herbs.<br />
<br />
The reason I'm thinking about blinds is that I want to be able to have some privacy but also light for plants. I'm thinking hard about orchids for the bedroom (Robin suggested yellow, as an accent for the blue). Since I have good light, I may try cacti for the living room, and/or African violets.<br />
<br />
So this is the state of home decor. Lots of ideas, many good purchases so far, still some head-scratching.<br />
<br />
But first, I need to sort, throw away, and pack.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-79825019051370340842016-12-15T12:45:00.000-05:002016-12-15T12:45:05.559-05:00healing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
I'm actually starting to feel like myself again, and like I'm inhabiting my own life.<br />
<br />
It's hard to describe, or even to understand, how much energy the body takes to heal, including mental energy. For nearly four weeks, I've put aside the details of moving and work. Without consciously realizing it, I kept my life as stress- and worry-free as possible. No compulsive on-line furniture viewing. No worrying about who's going to be where to accept packages, or a move date, or anything about work (except for the friendly co-counselors whom I miss).<br />
<br />
But in the last couple of days, my pain and discomfort have been really minimal, and I haven't had a shot of muscle relaxant since Monday. I may even be able to stop using the painkillers before the prescription runs out; I'm certainly no longer having noticeable pain as the dose wears off. The doctor said I can start physical therapy next week, and I think he's close to giving me a back-to-work date. I'll see him later today,for the first time since Monday.<br />
<br />
To backtrack some days...soon after the injury, I was concerned about possible internal organ damage. I was less worried as time went on, but I still wanted a test to know for sure. So I had a sonogram. When the doctor got the results, he said there were two small masses on my left kidney. They could have been anything, even cancer, so I went for a CT scan. Fortunately, they were something called angiolipomas, which are entirely benign and nothing has to be done for them. All organs are fine.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, I went ahead and ordered a dining table and chairs for the new apartment, which are pretty much the only essential pieces of furniture I hadn't ordered yet. I'd actually seen the ones I wanted some weeks back, and had pretty much decided on them, but I just couldn't wrap my head around actually placing the order. But now it's done.<br />
<br />
While I was on a roll, I also bought a new phone, which I've been dithering about for weeks. My current phone isn't totally shot, but it has a couple of small cracks, so anew phone wasn't an absolute necessity. But then I started coming up against insufficient memory; it only has 8GB, so I found myself having to delete things when apps needed updating. Plus, I've actually never had a brand-new smartphone. I started with a used one, and since I have insurance through my carrier, all of my phones have been refurbished replacements, and never the newest model. So now I'll have the newest model.<br />
<br />
I certainly didn't expect recovering from a serious injury to be the prologue to my new life, but maybe it's provided me with a cool-down period (as painful and frightening as it was).</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-60243544349344655602016-12-08T09:01:00.001-05:002016-12-08T09:01:53.570-05:00moving and falling, and maybe more<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My husband and I are separating, in an entirely amicable manner. I had never really given it that much thought because it was entirely unaffordable, though I know that I craved to live alone. Once I inherited money from my aunt, the thoughts started to come to the surface, and I realized I no longer wanted to be married to my husband. We went to three counseling sessions. The most interesting thing that came out is that he was not willing to do the work to keep the marriage together. I guess it wasn't a surprise, but it was a surprise to hear him say it, to have it acknowledged.<br />
<br />
So I found an apartment, which would have been impossible without having some money to put behind it, since my credit is only fair and my salary is low. I made a cash-based deal to rent a very lovely one-bedroom apartment near Kings Highway. Good neighborhood, very good building (including an elevator, laundry room, and super).<br />
<br />
However, a few days before I was supposed to move, I was going through some cartons stacked outside the doorway of my old apartment, stepped back a little too far, and began to fall down the stairs backward.<br />
<br />
As best I can reconstruct this, I fell down several stairs, grabbed the banister to try to stop, and the momentum flung me over the banister and I fell to the next floor, face down. I believe the banister caught me very hard on my left hip and groin. I had my hand in front of my face, so I only had a tiny bump on my head (did not lose consciousness), and a bit of a bloody nose. But I did not move in case I had a back injury. I yelled to Barry to call Hatzolah (a very good volunteer ambulance service), and went to Community Hospital, where I was examined and x-rayed. The x-ray showed I had fractured my first lumbar vertebra, L-1.<br />
<br />
So Barry and L-1 and I went home in a car service, and the next day, went to my doctor, who is thankful only a block away. I was in a lot of pain and couldn't walk more than a shuffle. He immediately put me on Cipro (some of the color and raised quality of the bruising indicated an infection) and a strong ibuprofen. The following day, I told him that the ibuprofen was doing nothing, and he put me on oxycontin instead. My left butt cheek turned almost entirely purple, as well as my groin, and part of my mons.<br />
<br />
I went, and continue to go, to the doctor every day, where I was getting daily shots of an anti-inflammatory and a muscle relaxant. Had an MRI of my lumbar area and two of my hip/pelvis (one with contrast and one without), and another x-ray, which showed my T-12 vertebra was also fractured and the fractures were causing the discs below to bulge.<br />
<br />
I missed Thanksgiving with my family.<br />
<br />
My hip really hurt more than my back, and I spent a lot of time sleeping/resting on my right side. Slowly, the pain began to abate, and the bruise started to vanish, The doctor stopped the shots, I finished the course of Cipro, and got a back brace.<br />
<br />
By a few days ago, I was having a lot less hip pain, but I asked the doctor to have a test done to make sure there had been no damage to my organs. So I had a sonogram done a few days ago.<br />
<br />
The sonogram showed two masses on my left kidney, which may or may not be related to the fall; it may be residual blood clots from the internal bleeding. It may also be cancer. I am supposed to have a CT scan today for a better look.<br />
<br />
So this took place over the past week and a half. Barry has been a champion. He took the first week off from work, and has accompanied to every doctor visit and test, while taking care of all household things and all shopping. He arranged to have whatever was already packed moved to my new apartment. (My move was scheduled for three days after my accident.) He has been amazing.<br />
<br />
I have updated friends and family daily, as well as notifying my job. My best work friends, Charles and Jonathan, have texted pretty much every day, This apartment is too small and grungy to have visitors. I've also been publishing updates on Facebook daily. I have a lot of good support.<br />
<br />
After I got the sonogram results, I told everyone the sonogram was "inconclusive" and that I had to have a CT scan. No reason to worry my 86-year-old father until there was actually something to worry about. I did tell the true story to my brother and to my bestie, Robin.<br />
<br />
So I am mostly out of pain and thoroughly panicked. The doctor said that if it is cancer, it is easily treatable. And I do have a second kidney.<br />
<br />
This has been, to say the least, an ordeal. My walking improved pretty quickly. My appetite was really poor, and although we initially ordered a lot of take-out, we've been relying pretty heavily on the new gourmet shop attached to the excellent greengrocer right next to the doctor. I needed food that would tempt me, so I've been eating a lot of goat cheese and crackers, fresh-press juices, and gelato. Barry brings lattes a couple of times a day. I recently discovered the shop's pre-packed salads, which are fancy and excellent. He also buys chocolates for the office staff at the doctor's; the "girls," as the doctor calls them, are endlessly hardworking and pleasant. They have performed admirably in wrestling with my insurance company to get my tests approved and scheduled.<br />
<br />
I have basically paid nearly nothing this whole time. I paid a $20 co-pay this first time I saw the doctor, and everything else has been a follow-up at no charge. We've paid co-pays for my meds, and for car services to and from the labs. But that's about it. My insurance has proved to be very good. I have weekly Skype sessions with my therapist.<br />
<br />
I'm going on disability from my job, and the move is on hold. In my new apartment, I have one rug laid and the other is there but not yet laid. I have my mattress (the bed will arrive December 17), all my linens, a microwave, a TV, a blender, dishes, flatware, and a vintage Danish teak dresser. (I did give Barry a bunch of money, and he's landed a share at a friend of a friend's). I haven't been able to think much about the move and furnishings; I have nothing yet for the living room and no dining table and no kitchen island (the kitchen is low on counter space, which is basically the only flaw in the apartment), and no shades. I have chosen styles and colors for the various rooms. The bedroom is blue, the living room is various warm colors, the bathroom is green, and the kitchen will be highlighted in bright red. For some sense of my design ideas, you can visit my rather large Pinterest (<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/jennlevy1">www.pinterest.com/jennlevy1</a>). I spent a chokingly large amount of money on my bed and mattress.<br />
<br />
Furnishing from scratch is exciting and scary. I'm mixing real and faux mid-century modern pieces. Buying the small stuff was easy; buying the big/expensive pieces is scary (except for the dresser, which was so enchanting that I bought it immediately).<br />
<br />
But this all seems very far away now. My real life seems very far away. I will be doing a lot of physical therapy for my back, and of course there may or may not be extensive treatments for my poor kidney.<br />
<br />
I thought this was all drawing to an end once the pain was pretty much gone. Once the pelvic/hip pain abated and I got the back brace, I've felt a lot better, though I'm still taking oxy and resting a lot. I only found out about the kidney yesterday, and I've done a good deal of crying since then. This has perhaps been the scariest part of the whole ordeal: scarier than the ER, the fractured back, the ceaseless pain in my hip and groin. Last night, I wanted my mother like nobody's business. </div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-12237736606627073452016-11-09T07:05:00.003-05:002016-11-09T07:05:40.624-05:00can't do it<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm staying home from work today because I can't stop crying.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-42935949104158396502016-11-08T21:26:00.003-05:002016-11-08T21:39:37.161-05:00the long honeymoon<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I saw Elvis Costello last night, and when he played this:</div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9I5pMrnai7k" width="560"></iframe><br />
<br />
tears ran down my face. It happens to be a very sad song, and one of my favorites from "Imperial Bedroom," but I guess what got to me was the topic of a broken relationship. Since mine is.<br />
<br />
It was my decision to separate, but instead of my saying so, we went to three sessions of marriage counseling, at my suggestion. I guess maybe I wanted someone neutral present. The first two sessions with one counselor were hopeless; he was not a very good counselor. The next counselor really helped us nail it down.<br />
<br />
So I'm moving out at the end of this month. I have a lovely one-bedroom apartment which I can't afford on my salary. And never would have gotten given my salary and my credit report. I used a portion of my inheritance from my aunt, and I am also banking on earning more within two years.<br />
<br />
My husband and I are very good friends. We've both cried a lot over this. But we agreed that certain things are not what they should be, and I think we've both known that I am better-suited to living alone.<br />
<br />
I am furnishing my apartment from scratch, which I've never done before, and it's costly and scary. My therapist reminds me that nothing is permanent. If I hate the rug once it's on the floor, I can always get another rug (but sell the other, natch).<br />
<br />
I'm sure I'm dealing with my fear and anxiety by obsessing over details of my new home. I actually set up a page on Pinterest and have been obsessively "pinning" rugs, sofas, beds, chairs, duvet covers, vases, china, flatware, mugs, glasses, kitchen islands, throw pillows, ottomans...pretty crazy. But, however, it has permitted me to think about what I want my apartment to look like, and I've already chosen the living room and bedroom rugs, I've picked a mattress and I'm very close to picking a bed (platform or captain's). Oh, and I bought a laptop.<br />
<br />
I have the keys now, but my target move date is November 30. But first I have to put in at least the rugs and the bed.<br />
<br />
I find myself starting to write obsessively about the apartment stuff.<br />
<br />
Instead, I will say, I'm separating about 19 years together, married almost 16, and it's scary and exciting, a very new and different life.<br />
<br />
Oh, and there's a horrible election today. Or rather, the end of a really horrible campaign. In just a matter of months, I have more bad things to say than I have to say about Walmart (and don't get me started on Walmart, because I've been at that for years). I'm astonished by the classlessness at this level of political race. That scary orange guy has a wild imagination and absolutely no filter. He's dragged down the dignity of a presidential campaign. And people support this guy, despite his proven lack of character, bigotry, untruthfulness, and ugly tactics. Saying "crooked Hillary," apparently, is enough to turn a lot of people against her. Someone told me today that they were voting for Trump, "because Hillary is crooked." I'm pretty sure he doesn't exactly know what "crooked" means, or what "crooked" acts he's being accused of - but he's a Trump guy.<br />
<br />
Also, I love that the topic of one of Hillary's emails to Huma Abadin, was, "What was the name of that older Indian actor we met a few years ago?" If forgetting Amitabh Bachchan's name is a crime, I guess she <i>is</i> crooked.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-48388238291259320522016-10-04T08:56:00.002-04:002016-10-04T08:56:23.220-04:00free-speech bashing by Kansas City police<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><a href="http://bordc.org/news/library-worker-heroically-defends-patrons-free-speech-brutally-arrested-library-works/">Here</a> we go again...</span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-48219932056034636892016-10-03T01:09:00.000-04:002016-10-03T01:09:27.498-04:00who decides?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last night, I watched <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt4324916/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1">this</a> documentary, about political correctness (particularly on college campuses) vs. free speech, as pertains to stand-up comedy. I found it very thought-provoking. I come down pretty hard on the side of free speech. I've listened to some pretty extreme stand-up, and even if something rubbed me the wrong way, I never felt it didn't have the right to be spoken or broadcasted (and that I always had the right to turn the channel, walk out of the club, etc.). Lenny Bruce, after all, died for our sins,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Then I read <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2016/10/03/business/media/on-twitter-hate-speech-bounded-only-by-a-character-limit.html?hp&action=click&pgtype=Homepage&clickSource=story-heading&module=a-lede-package-region&region=top-news&WT.nav=top-news&_r=0">this</a> in the New York Times, about hate speech on Twitter, which was even more thought-provoking. I have to ask the question, who gets to decide what constitutes "hate speech"? This is a pretty tricky one, especially since Twitter presents itself as a free-speech medium. But Twitter also does not permit what it calls "abusive behavior" (see guidelines <a href="https://support.twitter.com/articles/18311">here</a>). Should verbal/written abuse be set apart from "free speech"? And who gets to decide what constitutes "abusive"? If someone on Twitter attacks a person or race or viewpoint, and some number of people think it's correct or OK, and others are offended, is it permissible or not under these guidelines? And how extreme does the "attack" have to be? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">From the Times article: <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">Just take a gander at @Bridget62945958, who published a series of anti-Semitic posts against my colleague Binyamin Appelbaum. One message showed a series of lampshades. Its caption read: “This is your family when Trump wins. Get your Israeli passport ready.”</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Do I like this? Nope. Would I be upset if it were directed at me? Sure. Are there Twitter users who think it's OK? I'm sure there are, just as there are readers who think it's horrible. But should it be censored from a "free speech" medium?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And what we're talking about <i>is</i> censorship. One of the free speech advocates in the documentary I watched said that it is absolutely necessary to permit speech that offends any number of people in order to begin a meaningful dialogue and understanding about the issue. I can get behind this, I'm pretty sure. And I'm not certain that there's not all that much difference between a stand-up comic on a college campus or a racist demagogue on Twitter (if Twitter is indeed "free speech"). I can hate it, I can change the channel, I can walk out, I can block the poster or quit Twitter. I've unfriended quite a few people on Facebook who have repeatedly expressed views that I disagreed with or found offensive; now they can post what they want, and I don't have to read it. (I don't really use Twitter much these days, so I haven't come up against that kind of situation in that venue.)</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Lenny Bruce got thrown in jail for saying "cocksucker" in a nightclub. Let me repeat that: Lenny Bruce got thrown in jail for saying "cocksucker" in a nightclub. Some people were offended by that word. Maybe some still are. Does anyone think it was OK for him to be jailed for saying it? It was considered an illegal act at that time. Do we consider it illegal now? He was convicted in 1964. He died before his conviction was overturned, in 1966. New York State pardoned him in 2003. No one since has ever been arrested for anything said in a nightclub. </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I am not OK with censorship. I am not OK with "hate speech" (as it is commonly understood, such as the above example), I am not OK with prejudice, I am not OK with soliciting terrorist activity...but those are things that offend me personally. I can change the channel. Maybe I'm being naive, but I think censorship is scarier than any words can be.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">That being said...let me share my own experience of being attacked online and being accused of censorship.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Many years ago, I started a "listserv," which was an email discussion group, that eventually became an online chat group. The group was founded to bring together fans of an incredibly minor musical genre (basically defined as three specific musicians and their cohorts). It started with six people I found in a <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Usenet_newsgroup">newsgroup</a> (rec.music.folk), back in the 90s, and grew, over about ten years, to (as best I can remember) around 500. I was the founder and the moderator. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">There started to be instances where members assumed that if the others shared their musical tastes, they were sure to share other interests; what I remember specifically was a bunch of posts about astrology. I gently reminded people what the group was about, and asked them to stay on topic. Wasn't a big deal.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Then a guy joined the group - let's call him "Gene." Gene seemed to have a very short fuse and would go off on people for seemingly no reason and in very extreme way. Most of the group members were more or less love-and-peace hippies, and Gene's behavior was jarring to a lot of people. And he was scaring off newcomers, which bothered me a lot. For instance, a newcomer might post something like, "Hi, I'm new to this group. Has so-and-so played in the Chicago area recently?" And Gene would reply along these lines: "IF YOU SHUT UP AND READ THE POSTS BEFORE ASKING STUPID QUESTIONS MAYBE I WOULDN'T HAVE TO TELL YOU TO SHUT YOUR IGNORANT IDIOT MOUTH!!!" So, the newcomer would quit the group. This didn't sit too well with me. I tried asking Gene to try to play nicely with others. No dice.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">I should also disclose that Gene went after me, a lot. Example: I had read a book where one of the characters was a fictionalized version of one of our topic musicians, and I said something along the lines of "I thought the female characters were too simplistic and trivialized." The part of Gene's ensuing rant that I remember best was that he called me a "LESBIAN NAZI." (PS, Gene and I were, and are, both Jews.) </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Some of the people in the group liked Gene. (Amazingly, to me, one even married him.) Some found him offensive. Some brushed it off. Some left the group. Some thought he was funny. (Gene did have a credential relevant to the group: he owned a record label that had released one album by one of the artists.) Needless to say, I didn't care for the guy, didn't like his tone, and didn't like his presence in the group. And no one else behaved like him. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">Here's the difference: it wasn't a free speech forum. It was my wheelhouse, my playpen, my topic. The gentle nudges-back-to-topic that worked on astrology did not work on Gene. Here's what I did, which I hated having to do: I wrote guidelines. (Just like Twitter, which <u>does</u> represent itself as free speech.) They were pretty simple: keep on topic, don't attack other people. I was the moderator; I got to judge what "attack" meant. Among our twinkly little music fans, it wasn't hard to distinguish "Is anyone going to so-and-so's show next week?" from "UGLY LITTLE WORMS LIKE YOU SHOULDN'T BE ALLOWED TO BREATHE THE SAME AIR AS THE REST OF US!!!" </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">The guidelines further said that the first and second times I judged someone's posting inappropriate based on the above, I would email them privately. After a third time, their posts would be subject to moderation, which meant I would change a setting to read and approve their posts before forwarding them to the group.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">It killed me that I had to do this, or felt I had to. It killed me that anything like this became an issue. I had never imagined such a thing would happen, that someone like Gene would join and participate in the group. I was trying to grow and enhance the group, and people were leaving because of Gene. This was not OK in <i>my</i> group. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">This started a lot of yelling about censorship. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">This started a lot of chaotic behavior within the group. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">This started a lot of attacks on me. This led to more and more people being moderated. I do not exaggerate when I say that I lost sleep. I do not exaggerate when I say that my husband begged me to quit the group. Although he blessedly lived in another city, Gene did show up to a club show in New York, where he waved a finger in my face and yelled, "I KNOW WHO YOU ARE, AND I'LL DEAL WITH YOU LATER!!!" </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">It ended very badly. I eventually banned Gene from the group, and he started his own "rival" group (with a very slight spelling difference from mine), in which people were allowed to post anything they wanted. Gene's pals who belonged both groups started reposting his nasty rants in his group to my group. His group had about 30 members and mine was in the hundreds (and mine eventually included two of the musicians who had become sufficiently internet-savvy), but after ten years, I gave up. I turned the moderation and ownership over to someone who maybe had a more even temperament or cooler head or thicker skin than mine. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">For unrelated reasons, I broke off my friendship with one of the musicians and lost my interest in the mini-genre, lost touch with most of the group members, took my life in another direction. The lost group and friendship felt like losing a family, felt like a divorce. I have no doubt that it was the right thing to do. But I'm still scratching my head over the business of directing/limiting/controlling the discussion in the group. Was I trying to keep the group as I had created it and intended it to be, or was I just a no-good censor?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">I think the group still exists, though I have no interest in looking into it. I'm still Facebook friends with a couple of the early members. One of them recently referred to me on FB by the affectionate name a lot of the members used, "Our Jen," and I was touched and happy and sad. It was nice to be "Our Jen" for a while. Bringing the scattered fans together was a good thing. It actually raised the profile of our musicians and led to real-life connections and more gigs for them. We had a member in Ireland and one in Denmark and one in Aruba; the man in Aruba met Barry and me at the airport when we traveled there for our honeymoon, and drove us to our hotel. It was actually pretty amazing. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Did Gene wreck it, or did I?</span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-70882581512820704872016-01-19T19:53:00.001-05:002016-01-19T19:53:22.806-05:00politics and the test<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If you've read a selection of my posts, you probably know that I'm not a very political person. I always vote, but to be honest, I don't do much research about the local candidates. I do browse their newsletters when they come in, read the campaign material, but I tend to make decisions on whether they're doing things I like. (When I say "local candidates," I don't include the mayor. Mayor of New York City is a very important office to anyone who lives here.)<br />
<br />
But the presidential election this year really has me very interested and attentive. We have one candidate who is really liberal and awesome and amazing, and one who is a wealthy, lying racist using deplorable tactics against his opponents. (I'm kind of sorry that Ben Carson is out of it, because he was entertainingly crazy.)<br />
<br />
I'm a liberal and a Democrat, and most of the people I know and like, and the ones I'm related to, are one or both. It's what I'm used to; I don't think twice about commenting on some idiotic thing Donald Trump said.<br />
<br />
But...it turns out that I work with some <i>really</i> conservative people! Just about 3/4 or them are orthodox Jews of varying stripe, and for some reason, those folks are kind of right-wingy. I'm told that most orthodox Jews are, but I really don't know why. (I learned that this is also true of many hispanic people - when my Dominican then-boyfriend told me he was...a Republican!)<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong - I adore almost all of the co-workers. And the few I don't adore, I still admire for doing this work. As one of my best friends there said to me the other day, "This is not a workplace - this is a family." This might be the best group I've ever worked with.<br />
<br />
But man...early in the Trump campaign, one of the guys said to me casually, "I think Trump has some really interesting ideas." I shuddered. I mean, I knew what a piece of shit Trump was before he was running for president, and pretty much everything he had to say, from the beginning of the campaign was pretty dreadful, and got worse.<br />
<br />
For a while, I kept my mouth shut at work. It's really natural for me to comment on some piece of news about the candidates, but "Did you hear that horrible thing about Trump not wanting to let any Muslims into the country!" would probably be met with looks reading "...and your point is?"<br />
<br />
But we also have a WhatsApp discussion group, and a couple of people posted "funny" political jokes with themes like "we shouldn't pay for lazy people on welfare," anti-Obama stuff, like that. The first one that was posted, I did hold my tongue and simply suggested, a few days later, that we keep politics out of the group.<br />
<br />
That worked for a while, until the same person posted a joke - I couldn't remember it well enough so I looked up the post, and here it is: "Breaking News: The Muslim Brotherhood has officially warned the United States that if the United States continues meddling in Syria, Egypt, Libya, Iran and Afghanistan, they intended to cut off America's supply of 7-11 and Motel 6 managers. If this action does not yield sufficient results, cab drivers will be next, followed by Dell, AT&T, and AOL customer service reps. Finally, if all else fails, they have threatened not to send us any more presidents. It's gonna get ugly, folks."<br />
<br />
This is a huge steaming pile of prejudice and idiocy. It's kind of all the ugly right-wing nonsense all put together. (Well, except for the Gun Lobby.)<br />
<br />
This post got some nods of agreement. Then I posted (this is not verbatim), "I think the people who are thinking about are Indians and Pakistanis, not Arabs. Most Pakistanis are Muslims, but most Indians are Hindu."<br />
<br />
Then someone asked me, "But don't you think it's a big problem to get those people coming over here?"<br />
<br />
I said, "That's what they said about the Jews." He actually apologized to me. And I said, "It kind of upsets me to see this kind of sentiment in a group called 'Where We Help Everyone.'"<br />
<br />
So everyone kind of shut about it since. I think they don't want to offend the "house liberal" just as much as I don't want to offend the conservatives. I'm not even sure how many are seriously conservative - but yesterday, senior counselor had a pile of magazines he'd brought from home, and said, "This one's for Jennifer!" It was <i>Rolling Stone</i> with a picture of Bernie Sanders on the cover. I've never told anyone there that I support Sanders, but I guess they figured it out. (And I actually found it kind of funny, when he gave me the magazine. It wasn't disparaging at all.)<br />
<br />
<br />
I got drug tested today. We heard a few weeks ago that there was going to be a round of random drug tests, and that someone in the organization had tested positive and was immediately fired.<br />
<br />
Of course, Little Miss Liberal does not approve of drug testing at all, nor does her spouse, Mister Liberal. But I kept my mouth shut. I let the young-hippie-guy step up to the area coordinator and ask a few hostile questions and say, "I'm not changing my lifestyle for...this! And what if someone is taking something that's prescribed by a doctor?" This guy is pretty bold because he's mid-twenties and not looking to make a career of this at all. It wouldn't break his heart to get fired. But I need my job, and have made a point of being able to submit a clean test. When I first heard about it, I mentioned it to a few other people I felt might find it useful to know. Drug testing is a huge denial of civil liberties, and embraces that hypocritical line between alcohol and non-alcohol mood-changing drugs (the latter generally known as "drugs").<br />
<br />
So I took care of business and anticipate no problem. But it's also true that when I was looking for work, I consciously avoided the kinds of large companies that would test. I would never consider working for a bank or for a big finance form of any sort, for other reasons; but the stand against testing also blocked me from things like entertainment networks and hospitals and a host of other places where it's not OK to smoke some pot on your own time, but is OK to get as drunk as you want when you're not at work.<br />
<br />
The laws concerning marijuana are inching along toward a more liberal consideration, but it's kind of haphazard and fuzzy; things like it being legal to sell medical marijuana but not to grow it for legal sale, and suchlike. Marijuana laws right now are where they should have been 20 years ago. The Nixon administration commissioned a study on marijuana, and when the findings that it was not in any way harmful were presented to President Nixon, he glanced at it and threw it in the trash. (You could look it up. I'm getting kind of hungry.)<br />
<br />
Go, Bernie!<br />
<br />
P.S. One of my co-workers said to me today, "You used to be a writer, right?" That "used to" should not be correct and I am taking measures.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-32564682390538955822015-12-23T21:35:00.002-05:002015-12-23T21:35:16.985-05:00life gets a little terrifying<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Yesterday, I was assigned to a group of seven individuals, along with two other counselors. Our activity was to go the mall. This is a fairly common activity, although I'd never done it before. Everyone brings their lunch, we get into a van, go to a local mall, find bathrooms, eat at a food court (dayhab will often buy each person a soda), walk around and look in windows, find bathrooms, and drive back.<br />
<br />
Part of the problem was that the people I work with suffer from the reverse of something I recently ranted about: a dayhab full of Christian counselors would never have taken a group of people to a shopping mall three days before Christmas. Or else someone just didn't think about it, since a group goes to a mall about once a week.<br />
<br />
Then there was the destination. Instead of the usual Brooklyn or Staten Island mall, someone (still don't know who) decided to go to Roosevelt Field. This is a perfectly enormous mall on Long Island, maybe ten times bigger than Kings Plaza in Brooklyn. Kings Plaza has one anchor store (a large, "destination" department store that all malls have). And Kings Plaza is so down-on-its-heels that their anchor store is Sears. Roosevelt field has like ten anchor stores: Nordstrom's and Nieman Marcus and Bloomingdales and J.C.Penney and so on.<br />
<br />
First, some app throws off our driver, and we get to the wrong town. Then we get to the right town, and it's really slow traffic approaching the mall. We get into the massive parking lot and drive around for 20 minute. We cannot find a spot. The driver decides to let most of us off to go in while she parks the car (later to reconnect via cell phone). As seven of us, five individuals and two counselors, leave the van and walk toward the entrance, I see a lot of people rushing out, holding up their cellphones, and saying, "There's a shooting." I turned around, stopped everyone, mouthed "a shooting" to the counselor who was outside the van, started herding our people back to the van and then quietly told the counselor who was driving. None of the individuals knew what was going on and we didn't tell them.<br />
<br />
Then all the sirens, lots of police and ambulances. We made our way to a quiet spot within the parking lot, away from the main mall, and ate lunch in the van. We then went into an office building with a few big storefronts, and I explained to the concierge who we were and that we needed bathrooms. Then we got back in the van, and it took about 45 minutes to get out of the parking lot. Traffic was crawling. Some of the individuals kvetched, but no one really asked questions. It was really slow for the first half of the trip back. We got back just in time for afternoon pick-up (about 3:20).<br />
<br />
At first, it was mostly a big ha-ha, about how screwed up the trip was, with the shooting as a slight added drama. But over about twenty-four hours, I realize how scary it was.<br />
<br />
The actual shooting was a really minor incident: some schmuck tried to steal a Rolex from Tourneau Corner, got off a wild short that winged an employee outside the store, and then the robber was forced down by, I think it was an off-duty NYC cop and a security guard who was a former NYC cop.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/cops-rush-roosevelt-field-mall-long-island-article-1.2473922">http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/cops-rush-roosevelt-field-mall-long-island-article-1.2473922</a><br />
<br />
The local press really played up the NYC police angle.<br />
<br />
If we had gotten there five minutes later, the seven of us would have been in the middle of panic and stampede. Not near the shooting, but no one knew that at the time. And it's so much scarier when you're responsible for people who can't look after themselves well or at all. It's exactly if it had been a school trip with young children.<br />
<br />
The either counselors, who were more experienced than I, were really amazing. The person driving popped in a recording of Jewish children's stories, which distracted everyone and discouraged too much talking. The two of them said and did the right thing, start to finish.<br />
<br />
<br />
Also, I was kind of fascinated by the story. It was <i>Jewish</i> Jewish, not like Jerry-Seinfeld-Jewish or Woody-Allen-Jewish. It starts with a Jewish kid asking his <i>zeyde</i> (grandfather) to tell him a story. The grandfather has a heavy Jewish accent, so the whole story is told in this accent. It involved a good and a bad duke, who decide to steal the Torah from a little shtetl. The bad guy refers to it as "those worthless Jewish scrolls." The idea is to hold it for ransom. Someone the plot gets foiled by the <i>rebbe</i> (rabbi), not so much from cleverness, but from wisdom and faith. It was heavy-handed but also kind of astonishing. (I guess I've always found kids' books and stories pretty heavy-handed...actually, since I was about five.)<br />
<br />
Here's another interesting story: one of our individuals is obsessed with (among other things) a particular episode of a particular game show and three particular answers from that episode. He'll say, " I'd like to solve the puzzle: not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse!" I guess I'm one of his favorites, because he tells it to me a LOT, along with a passage from a kid's book where you have to participate in the dialogue. I noticed he also likes to repeat his favorite things to another counselor, who is religious. One day, it kind of dawned on me to ask her, "Do you know what that's from, "not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse'?" She did not. I never realize how drenched I am in American culture until I meet someone who is not. She's pretty much my peer as far as age, and we really get along well, but she grew up in and lives in a very different space, in many ways.<br />
<br />
A lot of the people I work with are pretty politically conservative, even the young ones, which still kind of shocks me. I grew up around a lot of liberal reform Jews, and I always considered it a Jewish thing. Nope. Religious Jews tend to be pretty conservative, though I have no idea why. I realized it was best for me to keep my mouth shut when another counselor said, right after Trump started running, "You know, I think Trump has some interesting things to say..."<br />
<br />
On the other hand...another counselor posted a really obnoxious meme on our chat group. The caption, more or less, was "Let's go for Halloween as someone who steals all our candy and gives it to people who are too lazy to trick-or-treat for themselves!" With a photo of President Obama.<br />
<br />
Even though I knew that the woman who posted it was too young and stupid to understand that social welfare also means that New York State funds our dayhab and the residences where our individuals live, I was still really angry for a few days. (And hey, she dissed <i>my</i> president!) I thought about it a lot and went very neutral, posted something like, hey, let's not talk politics here. (And one more thing: our chat group is actually called Where We Help Everyone, which doesn't sound like a space to be against helping others. And one MORE thing: would she think I was once on welfare and food stamps because I was too lazy to work? but I didn't tell that story.)<br />
<br />
OK, she's my least favorite staff member. Probably the only one I dislike. She is just not bright. And to me, that's not helpful to me in that workplace for a lot of reasons.<br />
<br />
All of the other counselors are my lifeline. I got thrown into the job knowing exactly zero, except to treat the individuals with respect. Of course, I've learned a lot about the job from doing the actual work, but I think I've learned more from the others. I learn both from what they tell me and from watching them interact with the clients. (I just can't keep typing "individuals" - it sounds fussy in my head.) They are so amazing and marvelous and patient and gifted in so many different ways. I'm there for six months now, and I often feel like a rank beginner. But it's a good learning process.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-69299094996611907742015-12-13T20:29:00.000-05:002015-12-13T20:29:31.540-05:00great aunt and great-aunt<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The deeper I look into my aunt's estate, the more money turns up. The latest revelation is 4,200 shares of IBM stock. I called the good-for-nothing cousin a week after he got the papers, and got his voice mail. I left a message along the lines of, "I guess you've had a chance to look over the papers, so we should talk. I found out that a copy of the will can be filed for probate in New York State, so my plan is to get an estate lawyer and get it filed. Also, I don't know why you said that I couldn't afford your services as executor, since the executor only receives a set percentage of the estate. I've found where the trust monies are. And I really need an accounting of the trust at your earliest convenience. I know your memory may be fuzzy, but being executor and trustee are serious fiduciary responsibilities." I got a voice mail back from him saying, "I'm in contact with my old law firms and the State of Florida, and I'll get in touch when I find out anything." Eventually, my brother and I will get that money, but I can't do anything without an executor except look in her safe deposit box (just look, not take anything out).<br />
<br />
But in straight-up good news, my niece is pregnant, and I expect to be a great-aunt in July!</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-24731076455350357632015-12-05T13:46:00.000-05:002015-12-05T13:46:12.881-05:00hip and holidays<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We had an after-work party on Monday to celebrate the birthday of one of our counselors, but it was mostly an excuse to have a staff party. We have a huge kitchen/main room, and tables were decorated with all kinds of sports motifs in honor of Sam; there was alcohol and kosher Chinese food was brought it, cake and a pretty fruit platter. Dancing ensued. Not one was allowed to stay seated. The best surprise was one of the young Orthodox guys doing a killer Michael Jackson. Who woulda thunk?<br />
<br />
I acquitted myself nicely, until all of a sudden...a horrible pain in my hip. I limped home, applied a cold pack and took ibuprofen, called in sick the next day and did more of the same, and went back to work Wednesday, still limping and in pain. What I didn't want to do was go to my doctor, who would certainly send me to an orthopedist. Since it continued to hurt a lot - I take seven flights of stairs in my daily commute, plus my apartment is two flights up - I saw my chiropractor today, for the first time in years. (If anyone in Brooklyn needs a chiropractor, I would recommend Scott Skolkin with absolutely no reservations. He is incredible, and one of the nicest guys ever.) The limping was causing all kinds of back and leg pain, which I knew needed a chiropractor. Luckily, Scott is in my insurance network, no referral required, $20 co-pay. However, he couldn't x-ray me without permission from the insurance company, so he didn't adjust me. He did say that a large black-and-blue mark indicated some level of tissue damage. He did do some message and applied heat, so it does feel a good deal better for now. He should have the insurance company approval by around Wednesday.<br />
<br />
This was emailed to me a few days ago:<br />
<br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Apparently the White House referred to Christmas Trees as Holiday
Trees for the first time this year, which prompted Ben Stein, to say, on
CBS <span class="aBn" data-term="goog_793020079" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ">Sunday</span></span> Morning, <br /><br />My
confession: I am a Jew, and every single one of my ancestors was
Jewish. And it does not bother me even a little bit when people call
those beautiful lit up, bejewelled trees, Christmas trees. I don't feel
threatened. I don't feel discriminated against. That's what they are,
Christmas trees.<br /><br />It doesn't bother me a bit when people say,
'Merry Christmas' to me. I don't think they are slighting me or getting
ready to put me in a ghetto. In fact, I kind of like it. It shows that
we are all brothers and sisters celebrating this happy time of year. It
doesn't bother me at all that there is a manger scene on display at a
key intersection near my beach house in Malibu. If people want a
nativity scene, it's just as fine with me as is the Menorah a few
hundred yards away.<br /><br />I don't like getting pushed around for being a
Jew, and I don't think Christians like getting pushed around for being
Christians. I think people who believe in God are sick and tired of
getting pushed around, period. I have no idea where the concept came
from, that America is an explicitly atheist country. I can't find it in
the Constitution and I don't like it being shoved down my throat.<br /><br />Or
maybe I can put it another way: where did the idea come from that we
should worship celebrities and we aren't allowed to worship God? I guess
that's a sign that I'm getting old, too. But there are a lot of us who
are wondering where these celebrities came from and where the America we
knew went to.<br /><br />In light of the many jokes we send to one another
for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a
joke; it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking.<br /><br />Billy
Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson
asked her 'How could God let something like this happen?' (regarding
Hurricane Katrina). Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and
insightful response. She said, 'I believe God is deeply saddened by
this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of
our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our
lives.And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out.
How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we
demand He leave us alone?'<br /><br />In light of recent events... terrorist
attacks, school shootings, etc. I think it started when Madeleine
Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found a few years ago)
complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK. Then
someone said you better not read the Bible in school. The Bible says
thou shalt not kill; thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as
yourself. And we said OK.<br /><br />Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we
shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave, because their little
personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr.
Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's
talking about. And we said okay.<br /><br />Now we're asking ourselves why
our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong,
and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and
themselves.<br /><br />Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough,
we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with 'WE REAP
WHAT WE SOW.'<br /><br />Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell.<br />Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says. <br /><br />Funny
how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire,
but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think
twice about sharing. <br /><br />Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene
articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is
suppressed in the school and workplace.<br /><br />Are you laughing yet?<br /><br />Funny
how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your
address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they
will think of you for sending it.<br /><br />Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us.<br /><br />Pass it on if you think it has merit.<br /><br />If
not, then just discard it.... no one will know you did. But, if you
discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what a
bad shape the world is in.<br /><br />My Best Regards, Honestly and respectfully,<br /><br />Ben Stein</span></div>
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I have very mixed feelings about this. I do think it's idiotic to refer to a Christmas tree as a "holiday tree," since it's a Christian symbol of a Christian holiday that occurs during the holiday season, along with something like six other holidays celebrated by various non-Christian religions.</div>
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I'm not crazy about being wished "Merry Christmas," because it always seems to carry that implication that everyone is Christian, or at least that everyone should be celebrating the Christian holiday. I generally don't wish non-Jews "Happy Chanukah," although I do wish Christians "Merry Christmas" (or sometimes "Happy Holidays," which to me indicates holidays of all faiths that take place in this season).</div>
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I do have a problem with Christmas, since in America, it seems to have become about 80% crass commercialism, 15% peace-on-earth, and 5% birth-of-Jesus. I have no problem with the latter two, but I cannot stand the constant advertising labeling practically everything a "great Christmas gift." There's a commercial Best Buy is running this year that says if you buy their products as gifts, you will "win Christmas" - meaning that your gifts will be better than everyone else's. Competitive gifting: horrible.</div>
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Some years back, I worked in an office with two younger women, who always played an internet radio station which was basically music from the 70s on, minus <i>any </i>black music whatever, not even Michael Jackson. After Thanksgiving, they asked me if it was OK to play Christmas music. I said sure. Those weeks basically ruined Christmas music for me, even the cool ones like Bruce Springsteen's "Santa Claus is Coming to Town," the Paul McCartney Chirstmas song, "Jingle Bell Rock," et al. I cannot stand Christmas music any more.</div>
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Another problem I have with Christmas is this: when I was a kid, I of course always wanted a Christmas tree, and my parents told me very plainly that we were Jewish and did not celebrate Christmas. We had the usual Reform Jewish Chanukah: lit the menorah and said the <i>bruchas</i> (prayers when the candles are lit), received the eight days of modest gifts, ate <i>latkes</i> (potato pancakes which are traditional for Chanukah).</div>
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After my parents divorced, my father married a very lovely woman who is Catholic. They had a rabbi-and-priest wedding, but my father is not very religious and my stepmother is very observant, so the Christian holidays pretty much "won." My father announced to my brother and me that we were celebrating Christmas and had to buy gifts for him, my stepmother, and my stepmother's sister and parents. (My stepmother's sister is a very cool nun.) My brother and I were maybe 10 and 13, and not having grown up with the habit of saving up money for Christmas gifts (Chanukah gifts are parents-to-children only), not only had to frantically scrape together money, but also to choose gifts for people we barely knew. Whatever we received did not compensate for the anxiety of the gift-giving end. A year or two later, my father announced that we were no longer to buy gifts jointly, since we were each given individual gifts, and that was even worse. </div>
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One year, I was unemployed, and told my father, in advance of the holiday, that I had absolutely no money to buy gifts He said, "It's OK, they don't have to be big gifts, just a little something." Bad, bad, bad. When I was asked what I'd like for Christmas, I was either told it was too expensive or given the cheapest possible version of the requested gift. At the same time, my father and stepmother unwrapped gifts long after everyone else had finished opening theirs, and some of them were really expensive. I remember one particular year when I was in college (which I did by working for NYU, which earned me two free classes each term), I asked for an electric typewriter, which I needed desperately for my schoolwork. At the time, university jobs paid way less than the private sector (which is no longer the case), and even the registration fee of $125 that I paid each semester was a hard hit. An electric typewriter cost about $125 at the time, and I was told that it was too expensive. </div>
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When Christmas came around, as usual, we took turns unwrapping our gifts, and again, everyone finished way before Dad and Mary. When she opened her final gift, it was a necklace from Tiffany; I couldn't help looking it up later on, and it cost $800.</div>
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I'm not sure if I quit Christmas after that year, or continued on for a year or two, but I did finally announce to my father that I did not feel comfortable celebrating Christmas, and dropped out of the celebration, gifts and dinner. (I did not miss the dinner at all, which my step-aunt prepared; it was small, bland, and included that awful string bean casserole.)</div>
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As far as Ben Stein's wanting to put religion back into schools and so on, I say no. Emphatically. I think atheism is a perfectly valid choice, and people who do believe in God should be free to choose their own type and level of religion. You know that they wouldn't be reading the Quran or Torah in schools. I have no doubt that it would be dominated by Christianity. When I was in school, we had a Christmas pageant every year, and sang Christian songs in school chorus. Singing the Christian songs initially jarred me; I actually only mouthed the lyrics that were </div>
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As far as spanking children or any kind of physical punishment: no, no. no. Violence only teaches violence.</div>
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I find it pretty refreshing to work for a Jewish organization. Not only are you not assumed to be Christian, but no one judges your level of observance, or for being non-Jewish. We have a few non-Jews on staff, but most of the staff is more observant than I am, and mostly Orthodox or raised Orthodox. I'm certainly learning a lot about Judaism and Jewish customs. I don't have to use personal days to take off Rosh Hashonah or Yom Kippur; even with my very low level of observance, I never ever work on the High Holy Days. I'm actually kind of tickled about working on Christmas. (The only "American" holiday we have off is Thanksgiving.) And, I have to say, it's nice being around my own kind. Back in the day, I dated men of pretty much every faith and color (except Asians, just because it never happened), but I married a Jew. There's just a certain kind of familiarity within your own faith, plus I also consider being Jewish my ethnicity. Judaism in unique in being both a faith and an ethnicity; some of us use the abbreviation MOT, for "Member of the Tribe," as in, "She's an MOT, right?" I'm glad to be an MOT. Christmas is not for me.</div>
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<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-78598238313579612932015-11-29T22:01:00.005-05:002015-11-29T22:01:51.691-05:00estate full of money, husband full of glue<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As I've mentioned, my aunt was difficult and mean and very old-fashioned and conservative. We had had a poor relationship for the past 25-30 years; it mostly consisted of her criticizing me. If she couldn't find anything current to complain about, she would criticize something I did 20 years ago, or maybe criticize my brother. The last time I saw her, she was so outright cruel to me that I cried for an entire day afterward. This was about a year before she died; after that, on advice of my husband, my therapist and my psychiatrist, I stopped contacting her. She tried to call me several months ago, and we played a little phone tag, but she wouldn't leave voice mail or accept voice mail, so we never did speak.<br />
<br />
However - she left my brother and me a shitload of money. The problem is that her will and a trust were prepared by a lawyer cousin of hers from Florida; he is the executor of the will and trustee of the trust. Ten years after, he was suspended from practicing law for failure to report on trusts and commingling trust monies. My aunt left a very good and organized set of papers: copies of the will and trust, info on the safe deposit box, etc. (Her apartment, however, was pure hoarder.) When I called the cousin, he said something like, "Gee whiz, it was such a long time ago, I don't think I have that will, I don't remember anything about a trust." I sent him (certified, return receipt) copies of all of the relevant paperwork, including copies of the check and bank receipt that opened the trust. He has probably had it in hand for about four days now (I sent copies to my brother at the same time, and he's had them for days). Hasn't called me yet, no surprise.<br />
<br />
When I called the cousin, I gave him the benefit of the doubt;
surely he wouldn't have messed with his cousin's estate. I was still on
the fence after we spoke, but here's why I think he is utterly
untrustworthy: one of the things he said to me was, "I don't think you
could afford my services as executor." I later found out that an
executor is, by law, paid a certain percentage of the estate,
depending on the state and the amount of the estate - somewhere around
3-6%. I would not have to go out of pocket at all. So not only was he basically lying, but he did one thing that
really pushes my buttons: acting as if I were stupid. That's something
that never fails to really, really piss me off. I want a lawyer who will
punch this guy out in some legal way.<br />
<br />
Since the trustee is only required to report the trust finances at death, I had no idea what was in the trust, or supposed to be in the trust. The trustee is legally required to send me this info within 60 days after it is requested. But in the past few weeks, through various sorts of research and some papers sent by her long-time employer, I've discovered that there's a lot of money in all kinds of places. I've also learned that a copy of a will can be filed for probate, and a trust can also be valid with a copy. So it's time for an estate attorney. Since my brother and I are her only heirs, we will eventually come into a really good sum of money. The problem is that it could take a very, very long time.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Barry noticed a bump on his wrist tonight and got very freaked out. I said it was probably from drumming at a jam yesterday, or related to his carpel tunnel, or a ganglion cyst. Luckily, our doctor is a block away and open until 8:00 PM, and he said it was a ganglion cyst. "It's like gloooo," said he, in his Syrian-Jewish accent. He sprayed on some freeze and extracted it with a needle. "See," he said, pumping a bit out of the syringe onto a bit of gauze, "Gloooo." The doctor was very impressed that I knew what a ganglion cyst was and called me "Doctor Levy." I have to admit to being fairly interested in looking at dermatology videos online; the contents of a ganglion cyst are usually described as being a "gel," but I think I like "glooo" better. My husband is now glooo-free.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-5930780999658970862015-10-22T18:40:00.000-04:002015-10-22T18:40:02.596-04:00the rabbi sang "My Way"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It was a pretty bad funeral today. My Aunt Mara died on Tuesday, not unexpectedly. And, as I've seen happen often at Reform funerals, the rabbi had never met my aunt and asked a few of the attendees about her (NOT including my brother and me). So he talked a lot about her kindness (not to us0 and her "determined individuality" (aka pigheadedness) and then he sang a couple of stanzas of "My Way." How truly awful was that?<br />
<br />
Apparently my aunt was very kindhearted to certain friends and more distant relatives, but was quite unkind to my brother and me. Out conversations over the past 20 years mostly involved her criticizing me - and if she was having trouble finding something current to criticize, she dragged up things I did of which she did not approve from some 30 years earlier. She was hospitalized for a heart attack about a year ago, and at my second visit, she was so horrible to me that I never went back. I cried the entire next day because I really loved her. But she hadn't had a kind word for me in many, many years. For that reason, I didn't call her very often.<br />
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I went over it with my husband, my psychiatrist, and my therapist, all of whom had the same thing to say: you don't have to see her.<br />
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So I had a call on Tuesday from one of my cousins on Tuesday, who told me the funeral details, and my brother and I did go. (I'm not on the best terms with my brother, either, but we put that aside for the day.)<br />
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She was basically a recluse since IBM early-retired her about 25 years ago. For a while, she didn't even have a phone.<br />
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I am dreading going through her hoarder-ish apartment. I have been dreading that for years, ever since I heard from one of her neighbors that her formerly neat-as-a-pin residence (where she'd been for over 55 years). However, there are things there that belong to me. When my mother died in 1981, she "held" all of my mother's jewelry - which was actually a good move, since I was pretty wild and irresponsible then. But even as I grew older, she never turned it over to me. There is also jewelry from my grandmother which she said would pass to me. (My brother and I are her closest relatives, as she never married and was my mother's only sister.) Some of this is supposedly in a safe deposit box. These are all things she told me, unbidden, as well as that she planned to divide her money between my brother and me.<br />
<br />
None of us are sure what still exists, and if there was any money left, and if there is a valid will. This is less about greed than about having some of these very sentimental items.Also, the fact that when she told me about this, and showed me a lot of her jewelry, was actually a very good memory. There are certainly a few other mementos I'd like to have, to remember those better times.<br />
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Since my brother lives in Rhode Island, it will probably be up to me to find a will and take care of everything. The apartment stuff will have to be taken care of relatively quickly, as the landlord will want it back very soon. I have almost no idea where to start.<br />
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I will at some later time talk about her in more detail. She was a very complicated and difficult person. I cried quite a bit, but not without remembering the roadblocks she put up against our having a decent relationship.</div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2160281091101014696.post-27157833533107288242015-09-30T19:50:00.001-04:002015-09-30T19:50:28.467-04:00music anorexia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">That's how I think of it. I sometimes go for long periods of time without listening to music, which is just plain crazy, because so much of my life has been built around music. I can't explain it in any way.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So I've just snapped out of it, and reactivated my Sansa mp3 player (since I don't like listening to music on my phone). My intention was to listen to music I haven't heard before, but when I saw the old familiars that were already on it...I did delete a bunch of them, but mostly added music I knew well. Though I did load a couple of albums I haven't heard: Wise Up Ghost by Elvis Costello & The Roots, an Alabama Shakes EP, and John Lennon's Rock n' Roll (how ridiculous is it that I've never heard the latter?).</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Also bought me some new headphones that arrived today.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Speaking of the Beatles...I realized at some point within the past few years that I know all of the lyrics to all of the songs from the band albums (not the solo ones). That certainly happened without my even trying. I think that seats me firmly within my generation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I go on trips from the dayhab, whoever is driving the van chooses the music. I often seem to end up with a counselor who loves country music (which strikes me as odd for an orthodox Jewish guy from New York). He will sometimes defer to me and put on an "oldies" station. (I remember when "oldies" meant the 1950s, but whatever.) One day, we reached our destination, but he kindly sat in the car while I sang along to Werewolves of London. </span></div>
<div class="blogger-post-footer"><!-- Start --><div align="center"><script language="javascript" src="http://www.myfreewebsitecounters.com/get-counter?id=c96dc8b1c7"></script> <p style="text-indent:-9999px;"><a href="http://www.howtohaveagoldparty.com">gold parties</a></p></div><!-- End --></div>Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03307475669131944104noreply@blogger.com0