Super Slacker Synge

Mr. Artsy Hotpants keeps reminding me of my blogging slackerdom. I know, remiss doesn't even begin to cover it these days. All I can say in my defense is that I've been a bundle of exhausted and overworked stressed out nerves. Yeah, yeah, aren't we all? But between two jobs, an improv class (I start level 2 tonight) and general life exhaustion I feel like I'm constantly attempting to juggle rubber balls covered in slippery dish detergent and dropping them at every turn. Forget the dating traumas of days gone by; these days if I'm lucky if I even have time, much less energy, to meet one of my very forgiving friends for a quick glass of wine. The girl who was once known for never being home because she was always in search of adventure and fun is now always in search of bed and sleep. Saturday night I did a virtually unheard of thing; I stayed in and read. And I wasn't even sick!

Thursday morning I leave at the crack of dawn for a much needed vacation with my parents. Not only is it a blessed escape, but its an escape to Hawaii...for two and a half weeks!!

Of course all things come with their own price tags...I am the official (as titled by my father) chaperone of my mother and general all around chauffer for everyone, which entails driving my father to dive sites at 5:30am, but hell, for a free vacation? I'd even wash my dad's feet, anmd he has quite possibly the most disgusting feet I've ever seen.

The other price tag isn't so easily quantified, or even identified. My parents take a trip every year at this time...last Friday was my brother's birthday and today is the anniversary of his death. While its not a somber commemerative kind of thing outright, we all know why we're flying the coop. We just don't necessarily discuss it. Those waters of acknowledgement with verbal avoidance ain't as easy to navigate as you may think. All three of us tend to be quite off kilter around this time; blurred around the edges with virtigo of the soul. Nothing feels quite normal or right, but in no clear definable manner. Three touchy dizzy confused and hurt people with jet lag and a hell of a lot of baggage...it could be a wonderful after school special of bonding and hugs, or it could be a gigantic chaotic mess against a backdrop of coconuts, palm trees, and volcanic mountains. Somehow I feel like I'm supposed to hold everyone together, which I wonder how I can accomplish when I'm not so sure I'm doing a stellar job with just myself.

Then again, I'm exhausted. (so what else is new..) Its 1:30am, I worked all day then ran around the entire city on various errands, and finally at 11pm arranged for my neighbor the African Goddess to take care of the demonic (but well loved) cat. Now it is 1:30am, I'm wilted and slouching myself right off the futon and perhaps not quite in the most positive of moods (fatigue will do that to you). I need to go to bed anyway, as I've got a horrendously long day ahead of me what with working all day, running to class until 10pm, and then coming home to begin the packing that I haven't even thought about and the cleaning (at least enough so that the African Goddess doesn't fall in one death trap or another on her way to getting the litterbox to clean - reference picture above of my stellar organizational and cleaning skills) I've been avoiding for months. I'm afraid it will be an all nighter and then off to the airport at 4:30am. I will sleep again, one day...in Hawaii maybe....

The Heartbreaking Awakening or The Vicious Circle of Violence by Way of Intolerance

I had a very upsetting awakening today...not necessarily a rude awakening, more like a heartbreaking one.

SL2000 and I somehow ended up running an entire event today, which we weren't supposed to be running, but that's an completely different story. The fact is, we found ourselves in the position of having to devote the whole weekend, including hours of running all over Manhattan (mostly on foot at that) to this very important event, and well, we rose splendidly to the occasion if I may pat our collective backs for just a moment. Despite the fact that we most definitely weren't supposed to be doing everything, we decided that damn if we weren't going to make it phenomenal.

And we did.

And we worked our collective asses off.

It was an event where a group of Iraqi womyn were brought to the United States to speak about the conditions in their country, the toll of the occupation, and the horrible cost of this war. The tour began here in New York, today, and will end in D.C. It was a beautiful and incredibly important event, with powerful speakers including a delegation of 5 Iraqi womyn, Cindy Sheehan, and some of the most courageous and hard hitting activists out there today.

And I was proud to be a part of it; proud to have worked so hard for something I believe to be so important.

Which is why it was such a complete and utterly heartbreaking shock to me when one of the Iraqi womyn was so upset that she didn't want to go onstage....because of me.

I have a locket that I wear all the time. It is an incredible piece of jewelry designed by a friend of mine (unfortunately I don't have a picture of it, but it is an amazing work of art) that is as much a part of me as my own skin. It holds the precious cargo of my family inside and is my way of keeping my dead brother with me at all times. It is a source of great comfort and strength to me, and represents who I am in many ways.

And it has an enormous Jewish star on the front of it.

While I am a highly spiritual person, I am not a very religious one. My own personal belief system is more along the lines of religion as mythology - created as a sort of guideline for living. Individual spirituality is a whole other ballgame, and really wherein I connect to whatever you wish to name the collective spirit and energy that connects us all as living things. Judaism is my heritage, my legacy, my tradition, and my culture. It is my people, who have been and continue to be inextricably linked by what I see as a completely empowering and phenomenal will to survive - a will that has always been and unfortunately continues to be tried and tested. I am fiercely proud of this strength that I have inherited through my people. I am proud to be connected to an inspiring tradition of questioning and giving and learning.

And that whole litany of what being a Jew means to me is thoroughly unconnected to whatever I may or may not feel about Israel. I realize this may not be the case for all people, but it is very much the case for me. The truth of the matter is that I am very conflicted and still unsure as to exactly what my views are regarding Israel.

What I do know, is that I value and strive for peace and an end to violence above all else.

And that's why I was there today.

Unfortunately, that alone does not seem to be enough to bridge chasms so achingly wide that evidently no amount of goodwill or common ground can heal some wounds. This was my stinging slap into the reality of a very complicated and deeply scarred world that we are living in. I idealistically thought that working together for a common goal could be enough to overcome the bottomless well of hatred that seems to lie so very near the surface of our planet. I bought the dream, hook line and sinker, only to see the cracks and flaws upon taking my purchase home.

And there's just no return policy.

I spoke at the very beginning of the event, very briefly (and much to my unaware, unprepared, and terrified of public speaking chagrin). I spoke in front of the audience and cameras, wearing my ever-present locket...the one with the Jewish star prominently displayed on the front. And because of this, one member of the delegation from Iraq was so incredibly upset that she didn't even want to go onstage to speak. Evidently, in Iraq, wearing a Jewish star is a sign of support for Israel, and she did not want to be seen in association with a supporter of Israel.

I understand that this woman is afraid and angry; she lost many loved ones during the occupation and has witnessed horrors I can't even conjure up in my imagination to have sufficiently realistic nightmares about. She put herself at great risk just by coming to this country; I understand that completely. But a few key points should be mentioned here. She is in America, where she agreed to come, where we ostensibly have freedom of religion; this is something she needs to be prepared for and ready to deal with. This was also brought to my attention after the fact; I had already spoken, the situation could not be changed at this point. Had she presented this as a concern before I spoke, I would have tried to find a way to respect both perspectives and it could have been addressed in a healthy manner. Instead, it became high melodrama, and very painful to all parties involved. Not to mention the realistic fact that with a delegation of womyn from Iraq and Cindy Sheehan there, its pretty damn doubtful that any of the not even very mainstream press that was in attendance would chose to put a clip with little 'ol Synge in it on the air. I may have done an okay job of the intro, but I am most certainly not anywhere near a news worthy main attraction here.

And lastly, it should be noted that the Unitarian church in which the event was held had not only a Jewish flag hanging from the rafters (among representations of many other faiths), but it also had an ark with Hebrew writing on it, containing at least one torah, on the stage. Yup. A torah; the most revered of Jewish texts.

One of the most upsetting aspects of the story, is that when this problem was brought to my attention, being the people pleaser who is paranoid of offending anyone at all that I am, I actually offered to hide my necklace under my shirt. I didn't end up doing it, but that was my first response, and I am so deeply bothered and ashamed by that.

The womyn I was working with on this event were wonderful and supportive, and I am so incredibly thankful for that. I still went outside and sobbed. I still called my father, who said to develop a thicker skin and that there were a frighteningly large number of people who did not and never would want Jews around, and that his advice was to stay away from those people. Umm, okay, lovely. Run with my tail in between my legs? Never have an ounce of faith that humanity can exist? I certainly don't want to live my life that way, no matter how much history he can show me to back up his point of view; and there is a horrific and incredibly long history to that effect. I called Mr. Artsy Hotpants and left him a teary message, and called My Little Vidipookikins and cried on the phone to her, not only one of my oldest friends in the world, but my friend who I grew up in Synogogue with. I was shocked and hurt and confused beyond belief. I felt so wholly betrayed; here I was on her side, working on her behalf, and this woman not only made assumptions as to my opinion regarding my views on the political activities of a nation, but I felt she was judging and yes, even hating me. Because I wore a symbol of my faith and my people around my neck.

I did not afford her the same disrespect because she wore a traditional head covering; a symbol of her faith and her community.

She finally ended up coming onstage and speaking. And I finally ended up walking right back into the hall of worship, with my head held high and proudly wearing my Star of David on my chest, close to my heart, and in full view; right where it belongs.

She glared at me on more than one occasion after that, and while I did not go and speak to her or try to address the situation, I still felt proud at the end of the day of all the work and hours and energy I put into this event. I felt proud to be a part of something so important as these womyn's voices being heard. I felt proud of the flower arrangements that everyone thought were done by professionals. And most of all, I felt proud that whether or not this one womyn was able to do so, I was able to put aside the differences to work for a common goal and try to heal, not continue the hurting.

I'm only sorry that perhaps she cannot appreciate that.

I'm still trying to process what happened today, and all that it meant and the many layers involved therein. I'm not even sure the entire scope of it has fully registered yet. But what I do know, is that I am deeply wounded and so incredibly disappointed that this kind of hatred reared its hideously ugly head in the midst of a movement and an event that was supposed to be about peace, and love, and unity.

When can we sit in a room of mutual respect, without judgment and anger? Because until that happens, there can be no end to violence, and that is a sad and scary reality.

Access Denied; Hopefully Not To Extend to All Areas of Life

At first I thought it was just a temporary glitch, a porblem with network connections. Then, as the day progressed, I realized that no, my precious internet access was gone, disappearred into thin air literally overnight! What's worse, I realized that it was not a department wide block, oh no, I was a lone target, being punished for my gross abuse of internet privileges. No one said a word about it, but the truth was written plainly across my moniter; the only site I had access to was the company site.

I was paralyzed by this sudden loss; floating in a haze of mourning for the absence so acutely felt. I was lost without the comforting ability to google whatever I wanted whenever I wanted to. How would I ever be able to function? The panic was a palpable presence rising in my throat, my heart ready to explode from my chest.

I decided the only logical course of action was to quit my sdj. I could never survive the long arduous and horrifically boring tedium of data entry, endless spreadsheets and access databases, and perpetual papercuts amidst the mountains of manilla files without my one sole comfort. The thought was unbearable and I felt so very alone, that not even steady emailing could salvage my broken spirit. I became withdrawn, listening to my audiobook du moment, staunchly refusing to interact, and becoming more and more taciturn and bitter with every passing moment. I was so distraught I even lashed out unfairly at poor SL200, amidst the steady flow of our daily emailing saga. I was becoming a stranger to even myself; something had to be done and control had to be regained.

I have never had any formal training in computers whatsoever; in fact I was so technophobic growing up that I made my father take the computer out of our house once my brother left for college, certain that it was an evil invention that sent out subliminal messages while we slept. As with most things, I learned my way around a computer experientially, and by necessity; trial by fire, otherwise known as non-profit land where everyone has the job of 12 people and you sink or swim but care about what you're doing far too much to have failure as an option. While I am still no expert, I can generally figure out on my own, through trial and error, how to do anything I may not already know. Thank god for non-profit land.

I spent a good portion of the day trying all sorts of various tricks to regain my beloved internet access, only to be foiled at every turn. Reloading internet explorer, what I did last time my access was taken away was no longer an option, as the programs were no longer available to reload without a networkl administrator; evidently they got wise to that little ruse. I tried a million other things to no avail, and just when things were looking hopeless beyond belief and the taers were poised and ready to flow, salvation came in the most unlikely of places. I will not reveal how I thwarted the evil empire this time, just in case they have this blog address; I will only say its a good thing I am resourceful, no longer afraid of computers, and a damn stubborn woman who does not give up easily.

I feel like I have climbed Mount Everest and returned intact.

And yes, I really do, at times, loathe the sdj that much that without internet access I would quit.

Hopefully this trend of denial only extends as far as the realm of the machine, for I have a bit of a new crush. He is in my wonderful improv class that has been returning my long lost confidence to me bit by bit every week, as well as being a fuckiong blast. I'll call him Mr. Potato-head because he's Irish, cute, and I just think that's a funny name even if it is bordering on offensive. Mr. Potato-head is tall, lanky, funny, kind, smart and very laid back with a good outlook on life. I, however, am evidently a gigantic spaz who instantly regresses to Middle School when having a one on one conversation with him.

After class on Monday, a number of us went to the theatre to see our teacher (who by the way said in the first class that she strongly encourages falling in love in her class - what can I say? I am a good student...) perform. I found myself standing outside with Mr. Potato-head, waiting for the other classmates to arrive via the unbelievably slow elevator. While my insides melted completely from the mere presence if his eyes locked on mine, I vaguely attempted to retain some level of composure as he leaned toward me and said "You know, I think you're really great." Uh, no, in fact I did not know this...and was he talking about improv or in general? Did it matter? Umm..oh shit..it was my turn to say something wasn't it? Uh, uh..."I think you're great too!" [said in some weird ditzy character voice as I retreted into actor mode and made a joke of it]. What the hell?

We walked together, ahead of the group and talked about fear and life and choice and who knows what else, as I slid in and out of serious mode like some multiple personality freak. Lovely. I did sit next to him at the show, but when I emerged from the ladies' room afterwards, I found much to my dismay that the majority of the class had already left. Damn. So now I'm debating calling him and asking if he wants to go see another show with me, or just waiting until Monday. Do I woos or do I push? Will I be able to have an actual conversation with him without acting like a total idiot? And what the hell am I doing, as I've been so proud of myself for being so un-focused on stupid boys as of late?

And he's going through a divorce. Yeah. Giant. Red. Flag.

(but his accent is really cute and he's kind of shy and turns all red when he's embarrassed and he seems to be a really good person.)

Oh well, at least I have internet access again.