Bad Monkey

I know, I know—I haven’t been posting.  I just got started and I’m already slacking off.  Typical.  Between traveling to HASC, Tisha b’Av, and coding, I kind of got off track. Well, that and the fact that the novelty wore off.  My undeclared break from blogging gave me ample opportunity to think about the purpose of this forum and how I intend to utilize it.  I started it on a whim; I couldn’t get my silly JSP file to compile so I threw together a blog.  Now the question remains, do I intend to maintain it?  That’s still somewhat up in the air, and regardless of what I decide now, I’ll have to reevaluate come September when the work starts piling up.  Advantages?  I’ve never succeeded in keeping a journal, but the “pressure” of having to post somehow encourages me to chronicle experience in my life I might otherwise forget. Does that make for interesting reading?  Probably not.  In any event, having a blog forces me to exercise my decaying writing skills.  And that in and of itself is a sufficient reason for me to continue my newfound hobby.  Disadvantages?  Suffice it to say that like all the CS majors I know, I am a quintessential slacker, which doesn’t jive so well with new commitments.  Let’s just end this simple desultory philippic with a lovely banal statement:  I guess only time will tell….

Rescued, Williamsburg Style

Left my house shortly after 7 am on Friday. Three buses and eight and a half hours later I found myself in Liberty, New York, stranded.  I was in the middle of nowhere and my cell phone, as usual, didn’t have service (Gotta love Sprint.  My cell has a coronary every time I hit the NJ Turnpike).  I found a pay phone and tried calling my cousin.  No luck.  I eyed the passing vehicles somewhat distraught. A Chassidish family pulled over and asked me if I needed any help.  I described my predicament and they offered me a ride.  I eagerly accepted.  Now, there were no empty seats in their van, so the Bubbe squished herself over as much as possible and made room for me.  Though it was completely out of their way, they turned the car around and drove me to HASC.  They were a family from Williamsburg, bedecked in Chassidish garb, and speaking Yiddish to one another. They were Jews quite different from me; nonetheless, they went beyond the call of duty to help me out.  Mi K’Amcha Yisrael…

Programming Woes

Today I battled my most dreaded enemy: the NullPointerException.  I was brutally defeated.  My rematch has been scheduled for Monday morning.  Time to come up with a better game plan…hhmm….

Excuses, Excuses

It was only a matter of hours.  My very first night on campus, the Jew-crew invited me to go to drag bingo with them.  (Trust me; you don’t want me to elaborate.)  Before I could come up with a half-decent excuse, they asked me if I had a fake ID.  I didn’t—and still don’t.  Apparently you can’t play bingo without an infusion of alcohol, so you had to be 21 or older to go. Aww, *darn*.  I was saved by the “under-age” excuse yet again. Fortunately, I should be able to milk that excuse for the rest of my college career. (I will G-d willingly graduate by age 20.  Tis one of the advantages of starting college at 16.  More on that later) Just last week, my research team started pressuring me to go clubbing with them.  This time I was able to play the Jew-card to get them off my case.  Sadly, such was a rare instance.  Usually, I have to be more creative when I don’t want to be insulting….

Oldie but Goodie

"...You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

"I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?"
--Edgar Allan Poe

Mr. Flood

 "For auld lang syne." The weary throat gave out,
The last word wavered; and the song being done,
He raised again the jug regretfully
And shook his head, and was again alone.
There was not much that was ahead of him,
And there was nothing in the town below --
Where strangers would have shut the many doors
That many friends had opened long ago.

(apologies to E.A. Robinson...)

Hello darkness my old friend

I admit it.  I like poetry.  And when I’m sad, I indulge in my favorite dark poems, some of which will inevitabley end up on this blog..  I know, I know, wallowing in self-pity is repulsive. Sue me.

Crash and Burn

My away message this afternoon ought to speak volumes:
            "…When I ain't sleeping, whoa.  You know you'll find me crying.. ."
It’s been one of those days; however, I will still award bonus point to anyone who recognizes the song from which I lifted this quote.  Demerits to those who cheat and use a search engine. 

In the spirit of teshuva

I would like to publicly apologize to my laptop’s operating system for my constant abuse.  It’s the third time this summer that I’ve corrupted my virtual memory (not a chazakah that I’m terribly proud of).  Patience is a virtue—one I’ve yet to acquire. 

Sending out an S.O.S.

I’m desperately seeking a ride to/from Camp HASC for Shabbos. My cousin and his family are there for the summer and I would really like to spend some time with them before they return to Israel.  My original plan was to take a train into New York and then hitch with a former teacher of mine who is going up there Thursday night to speak to the counselors.  Well, those plans fell through tonight, but I’m not giving up so fast.  Being that I’m not from the New York area (Thank G-d!!!), my knowledge of transportation options to the Catskills is, um, non-existent, so any ideas/suggestions would really help!!  Thanks in advance. 

The Little Devil

How could I post a picture of my nieces and not introduce you to their scrumdidilyumptious older brother? You gotta admire the kid's uber-cool stance coupled with his backwards cap. Ah, a punk just like his favorite aunt...

Little Miracles

Here's a recent picture of my beautiful twin nieces. They were both born weighing less than two pounds; now they are adorable, healthy babies bli ayin hara (and a round of "pooh pooh pooh's" for my grandmother's, a"h, sake). I like to think of them as my two little miracles. Hodu LaShem Ki Tov...

My Soda Shrine

One of the many perks of my summer program is this lovely little meal card handed to me on the first day.  Since there are no kosher food services on campus during the summer, I thought it would be basically worthless.  Not so.  I soon learned that it worked at all the convenient stores on campus.  Nice.  So I’ve basically used it to finance my two addictions: soda and Luna bars.  And since my roommates are gung-ho about recycling, I’ve built a shrine to 20 oz. soda bottles for all to admire.

For all those carnivores toughing out the 9-Days

Finally sat down and read Simcha’s post about Vegetarianism. It reminded me of my foray into NCSY Juniors. They kind of twisted my arm to get me to come as an advisor (I was up to my ears in schoolwork), but once I committed to it, I was filled with the I-can-make-a-difference spirit.  Sof kol sof, I think it was a worthwhile experience, but suffice it to say I left with mixed feelings.  (This is totally unrelated to NCSY, but I was saddened to see little 10 year old girls who had their youth prematurely stolen from them.  Let’s just say that I heard “American Pie” quoted one too many times over Shabbos…) One of the things that bothered me was the dvar torah given.  A precocious 12-year old girl gave a lengthy speech on the halachic mandate to be a vegetarian.  On the one hand, I liked that the kids were encouraged to give divrei torah, and I admit that it can usually be safely assumed that most divrei torah will be pretty benign.  Yet, I was upset that her speech was coming off as the official view of Orthodoxy, and that no one would dare counter it as such.  As an advisor, I had to stifle the rebuttals that kept bubbling up in my brain and sit idly by as these middle-school kids easily ingested every word.  I swallowed it somehow.  Food for thought I guess.     
Granted this was a very minor thing.  Fear not, I didn’t harp on such and was simply reminded of it when I first noticed the post on Hirhurim.  Honestly, I was much more disturbed by the bigger issues, such as the fact that only ONE male advisor was shomer negiah, um, er, etc... NOT a good thing.  For starters, it certainly helps perpetuate the offensive Negiah Can Save Yiddishkeit cracks…

Siman Tov U'Mazal Tov

Mazal Tov!!  My madricha from Michlalah just got engaged (and no, I was not the one who found out through OS—my friend who learned of the good news through our *beloved* OS told me—so that’s a shtickle better, right?) If it wasn’t the "9-days", I’d have turned up the music and started dancing!!  Let's hear it for Kvutza Aleph :-)

Kashrus Kurrents

I was starting to feel a little left out. Finally on Shabbos, the infamous pamphlet arrived in the mail.  Earlier in the day, R’ Gottlieb remarked in his drasha at the 9:00 minyan that he felt it was incumbent upon him to make a short PSA on the matter. He announced that regardless of the arguments of either party involved in this controversy, an anonymous smear-campaign filled with character assassinations is simply unjustifiable.  With that in mind, I perused through the pamphlet on Motzei Shabbos.  Perhaps when I get a chance, I’ll post some of its content.  Until then, check out the Star-K’s response.

Entering the blogosphere

Midway through fall semester of last year, I discovered the mysterious world of J-blogging and have been following it very closely ever since.  After months of simply commenting on others blogs, I decided to acquire my own stomping grounds. Though I understand the objections to anonymous blogging, since I intend to share some personal anecdotes, I’d prefer to keep my identity secret. Those of you who know me will notice that my identity is very, very thinly veiled, and I ask that you remain tight-lipped on this one.  I bet with a bit of googling, the curious georges of this world will be able to solve the mystery.  Even if you do crack it, I ask that you please refrain from unmasking me.

Tipping My Hat

“I start with the knowledge that everything that I write will turn and laugh at me. Still, you never get used to mocking laughter. I am forever withdrawn and shuffling before my own words. I do have some feeble phrases that I put forward to excuse myself: "But that's the way I felt at that time." But I can barely hear them for the ringing of the laughter in my ears…This L.P. contains twelve of the songs that I have written over the past two years. There are some here that I would not write today. I don't believe in them as I once did. I have included them because they played an important role in the transition. It is discomforting, almost painful, to look back over something someone else created and realize that someone else was you. I am not ashamed of where I've been and what I've thought. It's just not me anymore. It is perfectly clear to me that the songs I write today will not be mine tomorrow. I don't regret the loss.”

Gotta love Paul Simon. And yes, I've borrowed these words in other instances.

One to get started

 כל התחלות קשות.  So Let's skip the intro and launch into actual blogging…