The Best Motto

Gd, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannon change
Courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference.

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.

You woke up this morning - Congratulations! You got another chance!

Thursday, November 18, 2010


As it was self-evidenced by the lack of entries, my blogging was lagging behind again for the last couple of months. So, I would like to take this opportunity of blessed five seconds of peace and quiet to wish everyone Shana Tova (hey, it is only Kislev).

To all my brothers and sisters, regardless of their self-proclaimed affiliation (or the lack of thereof) and to all righteous people in this world I wish, from the bottom of my heart, a year of goodness, happiness, health, prosperity, love, friendship, and the continued protection and blessings from our Heavenly Father! And as always my biggest wish is that the meaning of Arba Minim would be a guiding light for all the Jews.

On the lighter note, here are my holiday highlights:

As always, managed to visit a record number of friends neglected throughout the year; if the memory serves me right, had only one verbal altercation.

The requisite naps in schul – check.

Over-stuffing on good food – check.

Over-imbibing of alcoholic beverages – on the slim side.

Short fashion report: Beau Brummell reigns almost supreme, with the few pathetic attempts to undermine him with flowery patterns, light blues, browns, and peach. The hair ornaments made out of the feathers of small birds apparently went out of fashion this year with nothing to substitute for (at least in our congregation).

Our family’s “off the boat” anniversary, which falls on Mostzei Yom Kippur in Hebrew calendar and on September 22 in Gregorian, this year corresponded with Erev Succot; we did not really celebrate much, but yours truly got one of the best complements from her host of the night: “I think you love this country more than a lot of Americans”.

The first night of Succot was, of course, marked by torrential rains and everyone’s amusing stories of horror; I just had fun in the company of varying medical professionals complete with “Shabbos Goy” – a very nice Italian cardiologist who loves Jews and Jewish holidays.

And finally, on this Succot, there was a market absence of discussions by my guy friends as to what kind of serial killer would I represent.

Shana Tova U’Metuka!

Monday, August 02, 2010


Recently, MBS started a very serious discussion with her Grandmother about her shoes – well, she is a girl, after all. The said conversation concluded, of course, with a request to acquire a very specific kind of footwear for Golden Delicious – but that is just the title.

After painstakingly describing the necessary shoes in all the glorious details, MBS suggested to her Yummy to inquire of Papi as to where the said shoes could be acquired!

Now, yours truly has a basic map of city’s libraries and bookstores committed to memory; I can give you subway directions better than half of the MTA employees; I know where to acquire a great cup of coffee or a kosher meal (or at least a snack) in your wanderings around Manhattan; but fashion plate I am empathically not! Nobody who knows me well would ever ask me about the best place for any kind of fashion acquisition – nobody who is an adult, that is.

In the unshakable logical perception of my niece, if Papi knows where the huge, three story candy shop is, or how to get to a shiny chocolate store, or how to visit Mickey by going on choo choo train, then Papi is the best go to person when you need a specific pair of shoes (at least I think so). I love you, my big Curly Gnome!

Thursday, July 08, 2010


Happy Birthday to my magnificent country! I love you with all of my slightly battered soul, your warts and all!

Today, you are in peril more than ever, and I pray with all my heart for continued Divine Protection against all of your enemies, foreign and domestic.

Here is to your wonderful people; to Life, Liberty, and Pursuit of Happiness; to unalienable rights from our Creator; and, most importantly, to the train that will go over the bridge even if there is only 50% chance of the bridge not collapsing! Here is to hope!

Wednesday, July 07, 2010

Part 2 of American humor

In honor of Independence Day - some american humor


Today, a minor rudeness of a fellow human being got yours truly on a slightly philosophical bend (after the initial cool off period), and I remembered something I told one of my close friends a little while ago.

I told her that with each passing year (and hopefully, the maturing maturity), I appreciate my parents more and more, with all their human frailties. Here are the people with true Jewish hearts and souls and the real Ba’aley Chesed. They helped everyone they could (with time and money); have been constantly taken advantage of by more people I care to remember (in countless ways); continued to help everyone they could; always had an open house and a table full of guests (regardless of the financial situation at any given moment); and always remained polite to everyone – with the exceptions of: attacks on their children, Jews, the Holy Land, and USA (or the defense of Mother Russia and its unique culture).

And now, when I am quickly approaching a certain age, I understand, both consciously and subconsciously, that the greater world and humanity at large do not operate the way my parents do. But, the saddest part of all, it is still very hard to accept.

Thursday, July 01, 2010


Since I work for a private company, my employers were hit pretty hard recently (just like the rest of the private sector). So, as a result of some implemented economizing techniques (some sensible, some not), we are now subleasing part of our office to some kind of small outfit that looks like it is involved in real estate investment (more I do not know and do not really care). One interesting feature about these people is impressive noise level they seem to generate (mainly, of course, due to the owner and his peculiar way of communicating).

Anyway, that, as Sir Percy would say, was just the title. At a certain point a new guy joined their ranks and increased the noise level by about 300%. Aside from the volume, the contents of this gentleman’s s speeches (and the multiply repetitions) were, forgive the cliché, the good equivalent of nails on blackboard. One day I was chatting with a co-worker about this interesting development. He told me that it was the amount of sheer bull s--- in the dude’s soliloquies that annoyed him the most. “Who buys this BS?” – He wondered. At this point I had to keep myself very hard from displaying my own incredulity. You bought the idea of Barak Hussein Obama as American President, sir! That was probably the biggest load of BS unloaded on American populace in the entire history of this country; and yet you are wondering as to who would buy the bovine fecal matter produced by that poor schmuck?

I belong to I pretty large circle of friends and close acquaintances who are all presently observant Jews and all had their childhoods enriched by the tender love or Russian communists. By my calculations, I am the oldest member who also spent the longest time in the loving embrace of those benevolent individuals. But this too is just the title.

Recently, some members of our circle seem to have felt the echo of the old regime right here, in the United States. Interestingly enough, they did not feel it coming from the left of the political aisle, which is famous for crashing any and all dissent, be it political or scientific. Who is furthermore famous for depraving everyone else of the freedom of speech while screeching about protecting it; who lately displayed disgusting misogyny in viciously attacking prominent conservative women, and, the irony of ironies, that movement is comprised of basically atheists and agnostics who preach that religion is “opium for the masses” and a root of all evil. Nope, the feeling of step-mama regime did not come from there; it came from “rigid political right” with Governor Brewer putting a nice (please forgive another cliché) acing on the cake of bitter memories. To quote one of my favorite movies: “Funny? Very not funny!”

Wednesday, June 30, 2010


Few weeks ago, due to slight scheduling conflict, I ended up spending the night at Beloved Sibling’s. So, in the morning, munchkins were asked to guess who slept over. Golden Delicious, after hearing certain tell tale signs, sagely pronounced “Papi”. What were the signs?, you ask; well, Papi snores. So, to every single person who ever had a misfortune of sharing sleeping quarters with me, it was a source of, um, major annoyance; to MBS it is a sign of her cool aunt’s presence.

Then, one fine Sunday, after a fun-filled expedition to the Bronx Zoo, moppets were paying a social call on George and Gracie. Here is what Beloved Nephew had to say: “Papi, I love your ducky bathroom! I love everything about your home!”

One of the biggest blessings in life is the innocent and unconditional love of a little child.

Tuesday, June 08, 2010


(Tax Brackets, that is)

Here are few random stories that happened to yours truly at different points of her life and in different places, but prove one interesting, slightly sad, and very much irrefutable point: even in a wonderfully egalitarian society like ours, people from different income levels do not necessary speak the same language.

Back at my wonderfully educational job at OU, there was a girl in our department who was only working because she did not feel like starting grad school right away, but also did want to become completely bored. Anyway, one fine day I forgot my watch (that was before cells phones were widely spread) and politely asked her if I can borrow hers for lunch break. She looked at me with something of incredulity and asked me if I really wanted to be responsible for her watch? As she did not usually exhibit the rich princess snobbery, I was truly surprised and taken aback by this episode; needless to say, I politely declined her watch and did without. Only a few years later did it dawn on me that her watch was a Movado – thank you, Vogue!

Few years after she was gone we had another trust fund baby who was also keeping herself from staring at the ceiling all day long while trying to figure out what to do with her life. One day I half-jokingly complained that after filing my tax return I ended up sending New York State an additional sum of four USD like they did not already rob me enough. She snippily looked down at me (which was an achievement as she was even shorter than I) and very seriously told me that she had absolutely no pity for my situation as she just had to pay so much more, and everybody has to pay their taxes and contribute their share. Come to think of, now I wonder if she voted for Obama?

When I was in the process of looking for my latest apartment, my architects/designers co-workers automatically assumed that I was buying one. On the side note - who in their right mind, unless they are from Odessa, would by an apartment in South Brooklyn?

Few months ago I went to a party hosted in Riverdale. By the time the festivities broke up, it was a pretty advanced evening time, and the buses do not run well even during the day. I have gotten a ride with another acquaintance I knew a this party and shared it with two other people whom I did not know. Benign and pleasant conversation was flitting from topic to topic till somehow we ended up discussing doormen and their averted strike. I, being my usual self, had the humongous foresight to make fun of the fact that doormen can actually threaten with strike – what is the big deal, after all? To which statement I was petulantly informed by a young lady I just met at the party that it is actually a big deal, as those individuals in question provide security and additional convenience of taking your packages and picking up your dry cleaning. As it was pretty late at night, I just politely nodded and confessed that I did not think of it in this light, mentally adding that security in my building consists of G-d’s protection and half-functioning lock on the front door; that if I miss my package, my Dad, bless him, goes to the post office for me, and if I need my dry cleaning picked up, I make sure to be at the store before the closing time and pick it up.

Different languages indeed they are.

Thursday, May 27, 2010


As mentioned before, this author is not extremely observant in mundane situations, and definitely would not be able to tell the color of the metal polls in the kiddy playground. That changed after Curly and Blondie kept talking about red park as opposed to blue park or green park. What??? Well, Papi, it’s elemental, really: the name of the park is defined by the color of the polls that make up slides and other things usually found there; such naming, according to their grandfather, could only be done using pure logic of little children.

Recently, Beloved Sibling unearthed a couple of gorgeous shots of MBS taken at the approximate current age of MMM. “So, do you think these are the pictures of MMM?” “No, Mommy, it’s me!” “How do you know?” “I had more hair then MMM.” - Very logical, never mind a brilliant observation.

Recently, yours truly decided to re-introduce the gnomes to the beauties and enjoinment of local library (fantastic customer service and liberal control not withstanding). All went well till they realized that the borrowed materials, especially the very enjoyable cartoons, had to be returned. The explanations of the necessity of these actions took few tries and are still not entirely completed. And, few days ago, in the entirely natural progression, Blondie enquired as to whether or not I returned the “wedding” (video of his parents’ wedding which him and Older Sister looooove to watch) to the library. Pure, flawless logic!

Tuesday, May 25, 2010


This time my sentiments are addressed to the esteemed 14th Dalai Lama. The following speaks for itself.

"Q: You have often stated that you would like to achieve a synthesis between Buddhism and Marxism. What is the appeal of Marxism for you?
A: Of all the modern economic theories, the economic system of Marxism is founded on moral principles, while capitalism is concerned only with gain and profitability. Marxism is concerned with the distribution of wealth on an equal basis and the equitable utilization of the means of production. It is also concerned with the fate of the working classes--that is, the majority--as well as with the fate of those who are underprivileged and in need, and Marxism cares about the victims of minority-imposed exploitation. For those reasons the system appeals to me, and it seems fair. I just recently read an article in a paper where His Holiness the Pope also pointed out some positive aspects of Marxism.
As for the failure of the Marxist regimes, first of all I do not consider the former USSR, or China, or even Vietnam, to have been true Marxist regimes, for they were far more concerned with their narrow national interests than with the Workers' International; this is why there were conflicts, for example, between China and the USSR, or between China and Vietnam. If those three regimes had truly been based upon Marxist principles, those conflicts would never have occurred.
I think the major flaw of the Marxist regimes is that they have placed too much emphasis on the need to destroy the ruling class, on class struggle, and this causes them to encourage hatred and to neglect compassion. Although their initial aim might have been to serve the cause of the majority, when they try to implement it all their energy is deflected into destructive activities. Once the revolution is over and the ruling class is destroyed, there is nor much left to offer the people; at this point the entire country is impoverished and unfortunately it is almost as if the initial aim were to become poor. I think that this is due to the lack of human solidarity and compassion. The principal disadvantage of such a regime is the insistence placed on hatred to the detriment of compassion.
The failure of the regime in the former Soviet Union was, for me, not the failure of Marxism but the failure of totalitarianism. For this reason I still think of myself as half-Marxist, half-Buddhist."

I do not feel like wasting my time (and that of my four esteemed readers) by refuting this dodo sentence by sentence; just like to add two things.

One: if you are still (forgive me) idiot enough to believe that we have to respect all other religions and cultures and they are just as good as ours, this is a clear con argument.

Two: is his tiny brain so mashed up with tofu and vegetables that he conveniently forgot that millions of his devout followers in Tibet at this very moment are being persecuted, tortured, and killed by the Marxist regime?

Tuesday, May 04, 2010


It is not enough that my family and friends are forever trying to rectify my single state, or that I constantly get condescending stares and pitying glances to the tune of “what is wrong with this girl” from the pillars and half-pillars of our community – now cyberspace it going into all frontal assault!

I get e-mails suggesting Jewish singles, Christian singles, Black singles, White singles, Conservative singles, free-thinking singles, professional singles, hip singles, and, for whatever reason, disappointed housewives. My blog gets ads for romantic getaways for two, romantic wedding gowns, professing your love with flowers, professing your love with chocolates, professing your love with diamonds, professing your love with love. And just now I got Mormon wedding gowns! Oh, for goodness sakes! I get the point!!

So, here is my counter-ad: “A nice Jewish girl, on the wan side of 30s, bestowed by the Creator with many riches (but not the monetary ones); never been married before; kind; loves children; a fairly decent cook, non-smoker and practically non-drinker, very family oriented; brown hair, brown eyes, short, fat, prefers comfortable clothes and shoes, loves travel, reading, classical music, works of art created by dead white males (and females); loves cats, but does not like dogs; likes perfume, but does not like diamonds; stubborn and opinionated; NRA member; classified as “right wing angry bitch”; does not suffer fools easily (especially the ones of the male persuasion); loves the Holy Land (but has no tolerance for the stupidity and anti-Semitism of its rules and does not consider aliyah); committed to Judaism (but abhors the foolishness, misogyny, snobbery, and ignorance that passes for it); loves USA ( and is not willing to compromise on it as well); currently residing in New York (and not really willing to re-locate).”

Do you hear or see the male stampede?  Yea, somehow neither do I.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010


Or We Are in Great Company

One of my wittier friends periodically calls our religion “Taliban Light” – referring, among many things, to the deep misogyny pervasive in our circles. He does it mainly to irritate the logically challenged who are, alas, also pervasive in our circles. Unfortunately, it does not stop there.

I can not begin to tell you how many times I encountered a recurring theme of “if Jewish women were more serious about Tzniut, Mashiach will come tomorrow”, inevitably followed by a long discourses on hair coverings, importance of wigs, skirt lengths, stockings, necklines, nail polish, make up, gossip, loud laughter, career choices, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. As if, as my other friend pointed out with a nice snort, men are complete and total angels and do not need to change anything about them. I would just like to add to that a short memo to the distinguished male members of our community: “ If you are engaged in what is laughingly known as “chinuch”, please refrain from mental, physical, and sexual abuse of your students; if you would like to do something deemed inappropriate (like going to a peep show), please remove all signs identifying you as Jews; and please, for the love of all that’s holy, observe the basic rules of grooming and personal hygiene!”

The second memo is addressed to all the members of our community, male and female alike: please refresh your memories as to why, precisely, we are in this, the longest and the bloodiest, exile – it is not because of the modesty issues, my dear brothers and sisters. It is because of the baseless hatred of one another – a practice that is not only very much accepted, but encouraged by many of the “ultra” religious communities both in Israel and US. But, as usual, I digress.

Anyway, a couple of weeks ago all the major internet sites were splashed with a headline quoting some “prominent” Iranian cleric. What got the poor guy’s turban in a knot? Apparently, Teheran is as prone to seismic activities as our great City of Angels. So, this religious luminary blamed women’s immodesty! It seems that it (immodesty) takes all men, especially the young ones, off the straight and narrow to the point of the earth literally trembling!

There is a great Russian word to describe these people - “mrakobesie”; the English equivalent of which I can not think of mainly because it is impossible to insult somebody in English the way you can do it in Russian; my learned friends are welcome to submit their suggestions.

I, however, rest my case.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010


Here are few compliments and utterings by my family and friends that define me the best:

Around the tender age of eight, my anti-Commie proclivities surfaced and defined themselves never to be buried again under any circumstances; combined with my big yup that sometimes presented tiny problems. At any rate, one of my uncles, flabbergasted by such displays, politely informed my Dad that this kid might just land him in prison. My Daddy, confirmed anti-Commie since the age of eighteen, threw his chest forward and proudly proclaimed: “My Daughter!”

Two months before my twelfth birthday, I got the supreme pleasure of being enrolled in a class with about twenty five other kids, with about 80% of the parent body being in “diplomatic service” – Commie speak for KGB agents. Unfortunately, my big yup got the better of me yet again, and shortly thereafter I was confronted by an angry mob of kiddies around and slightly above my age cornering me outside of our classroom and yelling the Russian equivalents of “dirty kike” at me. I responded by calling them “Nazis”. Shortly after my twelfth birthday, my dad went to this illustrious learning institution to collect my transcripts in order to enroll me in a different school. The principle, also flabbergasted by yours truly, snippily informed my parent that in her forty years of educational experience that was the first case of a student calling the entire body of young pioneers in the school “HitlerJugend”. My Daddy, G-d bless him, informed her that his daughter did not tell lies, and if she called the students little Nazis, maybe they were, in fact, little Nazis.

When I was about seventeen, a certain family member who kept popping in and out of friendship with us re-surfaced again. In a fit of generosity, she offered to take me for a ride in her car – quite a treat in Moscow in the eighties. Yours truly, however, declined due to the fear of succumbing to the car sickness. The blessed relative took it as an offense and confronted my Dad, accusing my poor Mom of some nefarious deeds. My Dad squelched the stupidity, in the process explaining that it is very hard to force Barbara to do something she really does not want to do, despite her seemingly obliging nature. “You could never do it – just try”.

One of my many former friends (at least I think it was him), who liked to pretend the deep knowledge of Judaism and assume the pose of erudite philosopher, once politely told me that for a religious fanatic I looked and acted quite normally. Thanks, dude!

In the not so olden days, when yours truly was not the only singleton in her circle of friends, one of those friends decided to go to some kind of singles weekend function, and invited Beloved Sibling and your humble servant to come along. This author, already fed up with all kinds of organized singles events, politely declined. The friend persisted, trying to engage the help of my sister. “You do not know my sister?” - Was Beloved Sibling’s reply – “if she sticks her two hooves into the ground, it is impossible to budge her”. Friend was genuinely surprised, but the weekend went swimmingly without my attendance.

Just this morning, I ran into my other good friend on the subway station. As he, for reasons that flabbergasted me, continues to be an Obama supporter, I half-jokingly call him “class enemy”. He, in turn, is always trying to come up with suitable responses. So, this morning he greeted me with “Hello, the enemy of the proletariat”! As I was, as my friend E. puts it, pre-coffee, I did not respond in the satisfactory (for me) manner. Only later, after my customary 24 oz. of Hazelnut with half and half, did the good rejoinder pop into my brain. “Proud and confirmed enemy of the proletariat since the age of seven”!

In summary, I am a “stiff-necked” Jew, mouthy, and set in her ways – and very proud of it.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010


Practically Unchanged Since The Last Time

Our esteemed so-called President, in the best traditions of his lefty buddies, bastardised another innocent English word; which by now became fodder for idiotic commercials and the butt of bad jokes. I will use his term to specify my vision – not only for economic recovery, but the general health of this country. By now the situation became dire enough for all of the below mentioned to be number one; so, I’ll just list them in random order and use numbers for the ease of reading alone.

1. You either love and appreciate this country, or get the hell out of here – there is no iron curtain holding you here against your will!
2. A while ago Burt Prelutsky offered a brilliant plan of dealing with liberals and their cabal – you pay them a certain amount of money (I think two million per bastard/bastardess was mentioned), and they leave the country and never darken our doors again. The price might seem a bit steep – but when you figure out the amount of damage they inflict on the rest of us daily – hell, hourly, - the price becomes very nominal. This group should include everyone not happy with either the letter or the spirit of our Constitution; everyone who thinks they belong to one of the many persecuted minorities, and is, therefor, entitled to unending amount of extra rights; almost every high-ranking politician with a letter D attached to his or her name; almost all of our Muslim population; about 75% percent of federal employees; about 90% of public educators (beginning with kindergarten lever all the way up to PhD and beyond); 99% of people considering themselves pacifists; 99% of entertainment industry; 98% of so-called journalists, about 97% of environmentalists; every person who says “my home country” and means any other country aside from USA; everyone who does not like the absence of universal health care; and 100% of people claiming that food here has no taste.
3. Every American citizen has full right under the constitution to redress grievances; that includes protesting the war he or she disagrees with. That DOES NOT include the right to physically attack our war veterans, disturb military funerals; vandalize recruitment offices; and any other garbage the likes of Medea Benjamin come up with.
4. The most important responsibility of the federal government (which the present one abdicated completely) is our safety. War means war, be it a direct reaction to the enemy attack or preemptive strike – that means letting our soldiers do their jobs without later harassment and false accusations a la late Rep. Murtha. That also means, unfortunately, civilian casualties. And before you assault my ears with your lily-livered tirades, please remember that this particular enemy will not spare your children, even if you try with all your might to spare theirs. In this vein, I honestly do not care about the civilian population of Iraq, Afghanistan, or any other Muslim-controlled country. Let our boys and girls neutralize these two – by any means necessary! Next step – blanket bombing anything remotely capable of giving Iran nuclear weapons. And on the side note and with all due respect to the esteemed individual in question – could somebody please, please enlighten General Petraeus regarding our so-called allies in the Muslim world? And could someone please arrange a meeting between him and Colonel Richard Camp?
5. Immediate repeal of federal income tax (that includes disbanding IRS); enough blood-sucking and legalized stealing!
6. NO MORE federal bailouts of anybody – nobody is too big to fail! That especially includes Democrat pet dog Goldman Sachs; they can gamble all they want – just not with money confiscated from us by federal government.
7. Our medical system, by far not perfect, is still the best in the world. As such it requires immediate repeal of monstrosity foisted on us by those two ugly mugs from Little Shop of Democratic Horrors – Obama and Pelosi. Contrary to what my centrist friends claim, Republicans have plenty to offer in terms of health care reform – and their offers actually make sense and do not convert the Constitution into toilet paper.
8. USA should immediately sever any and all relationships with UN (especially the monetary one). UN, in turn, can re-locate anywhere that strikes the fancy of Secretary General: Riyadh, Moscow, or Burkina-Faso; as long as it is not in my fair city of my beautiful country.
9. NO FOREIGN AID TO UNGRATEFUL SWINE!!!!! I said it many times, and I will repeat it again and again – ENOUGH!! Any and all celebrity airheads are more than welcome to spend their own ill-gotten gains on any other nation they want – just leave the beleaguered US taxpayers out of it.
10. There are way too many people occupying government jobs on all three levels – especially the federal one; reduction of staff seems a good course. In the same venue, let our elected officials forgo their payments and perks (real and imaginative) for about a year – if we are in serious recession, they should justify their ironic label of public servants.
11. All labor unions should be disbanded and proclaimed illegal; if anyone does not like it, please refer to number one.
12. Education is a privilege and not a right specified in the constitution; moreover, nowhere in this document is it specified that overseeing education is within purview of the federal government; as such, it is the right and responsibility of states. Department of Education should be abolished as well. And, on the personal note, anyone who sends their child to public schools in their present condition, especially the ones in big cities should be investigated on suspicions of child abuse.
13. This country was settled, created, expanded and build mainly by Protestant Christians. Founding Fathers belonged to the same “religious sect”; so did the people who wrote and ratified American Constitution. Nowhere in this document is the separation of church and state mentioned in any shape of form, or under any sauce or jelly. Religious freedom and religious toleration – yes; separation of church and state – no. So, atheists, Satanists, worshipers of Gaea, Wicca, or Obama – this is a country build by Christians – please live them alone and allow them to practice their faith in peace– or see number one!
14. Enough with thought police, political correctness, affirmative action, and other garbage! And black citizens – first of all, please learn some none-revised history: white slavers, as disgusting and reprehensible as they were, did not run around African Continent enslaving your ancestors – your illustrious ancestors were “do it yourself” kind of folks. So not one “white” in the present day America (including David Duke) owes you diddly-squat! Not happy? Zimbabwe looks fantastic, especially this time of the year. All other persecuted minorities – enjoy life here without moaning, groaning, or extra demands, or refer to number 1!
15. In no other country on earth do you have people immigrating and then having the unmitigated gall of claiming persecution and demanding respect of their language and culture! You came to us – respect us, our language, and our culture! No multi-lingual voting information, no “1 for English”, and “hell no” for any other language but English! Do not like it? Refer to numbe1 1.
16. Immediate deportation of illegals and serious security for both Southern and Northern borders! On the side note, La Raza and any other crap shoot in the same venue should also be declared illegal.
17. Environmentalists, green lobby, and all other members of this pirate ship can do anything they want with their own lives (and on their own dime) – sleep naked in trees, cart their ugly re-usable bags around, commune with endangered Siberian tigers, walk twenty miles to work every day, or eat only the fruit of the tree that have fallen on its own – they may not force anyone else to follow their lunacy! And about 6 billion in government lettuce that are allotted to fund their moronic research into controlling the uncontrollable – please return it back to the cookie jar and do not give it to them again. EPA should be disbanded as well, and people like Al Gore indicted on criminal charges. On the same topic – “energy independence”? We have enough natural resources to achieve that and drown all the OPEC nations in their own oil, which goal would be achieved as soon as the red/brown shirts masquerading in green are no longer in charge of anything remotely connected to economic matters.
18. In case of Barak Hussein Obama, or whatever his name is – either he proofs beyond the shadow of a doubt that he is indeed a natural–born citizen of this country – in which case Congress starts immediate impeachment process, and we hold special elections; or – he is constitutionally unfit for the office of the President, in which case Congress starts immediate criminal process, and we hold special elections – either way, we win.

In short, we defeat our enemies (especially the domestic ones), get rid of all the foreign “friends” we do not need, curtail out of control government, de-regulate business, stop paying chocking and unnecessary taxes, get rid of all the home-grown and imported haters, and, most importantly, rediscover our pride as Americans – recovery would not be painless; but it would be achievable and achieved.

Friday, March 12, 2010


This past weekend we were blessed with fantastic spring weather. So, off to the pak in double stroller on choo choo train we went.

Unfortunately, around half the city had the same bright idea (not necessarily involving choo choos, but still), and the playground was overcrowded. Both munchkins, not being of retiring nature when in familiar crowds, usually grow painfully shy in the unfamiliar once. So, after a little while of playing monkey bars, sliding, and swinging – all accompanied by holding Papi’s hand as a reassurance – Blondie politely requested to be taken home: his cue that he is not very happy with the present situation. Big Sister concurred. Papi, feeling bad that her favorite Munchkins did not enjoy themselves on such gorgeous day offered to go to the big place with palm trees (Winter Garden to the tourists), and visit chocolate shop. The said idea was approved, and the course taken.

In the chocolate shop (Godiva boutique to the tourists) we got a lot of enjoyment just by looking around with mouths slightly open. Then we proceeded to the counter for the truffle selection. So, the appropriate pieces were picked up for Mommy, for Abba, and, of course, for Curly and Blondie. After this ritual, Papi went to the cashier to pay, and that was when MBS looked at me and pointedly reminded her aunt that we seem to have forgotten MMM. “But, honey, MMM is still a baby; she is not allowed to have chocolates yet; she only drinks milk.” MBS just looked at me and pronounced with exasperation reserved for thick-sculled adults: “For when she grows up, Papi! Then she could eat it!”

I love you, my beautiful gnome!

Wednesday, March 03, 2010

Wednesday, February 24, 2010


Strange Reflections.

By the strange quirk of fate I am now living with three cats. First of all, there is George, who technically belongs to Baby Brother, and then there are Gracie and Claudio, who belong to Baby Brother’s friend (incidentally also currently occupying my humble abode). To an extremely unbiased cat lover like yours truly, the entire feline trio is beautiful – each in their own right: all of them are graceful, fluffy, and cuddly; each one of them possesses an adorable bag of tricks. And one of them was born with congenital eye problem and a crooked tale - that cat is Claudio.

Of the three of them, Claudio is the friendliest one; moreover, he is the only one in the bunch who climbs on your lap, lets you pick him up, and allows to pet him any time your mood strikes. But his “pirate” eye scared some of my visitors so much that they refused to touch him at all – ironically, when he was the only cat around actually willing to be petted; even begging for it.

After observing this tableau, my Jewish brain, always eager to analyze, went into overdrive of thinking – how many times had each and every one of us made the same mistake? We all judge each other by the exteriors presented to the world – so how many times have we overlooked the best qualities in the person because of the imperfect outer shell?

Monday, February 22, 2010


Few More Unrelated Episodes

While playing with snow in the driveway, observed “friendly” neighbor running out of her house in just a skirt and a T-shirt. “Where is your jacket?” – not just as an inquiry, but a question an exasperated adult would ask a silly child.

While preparing to depart for the park, I asked him to pick up his toys. Unfortunately, my mind was a total blank, and I could not remember the English word for shovel. So, my request came out as “please pick up this, whatever you call it”; “shovel” – was the helpful response.

After being reminded for the umpteenth time that his beloved baby sister is not a toy, and therefore could not be pocked in the eye, he responded “I counting her eyebrows”.

Friday, February 19, 2010


I threatened to start posting recipes more than a year ago, and today I am finally doing it. In the spirit of this more “light” side of my blog, I would like to start with a little joke.

A couple of years ago I used to have a roommate whose former boyfriend was of an Italian origin. Needless to say, she has eaten many a pasta meal prepared by “real” Italians. But for whatever reason, she kept insisting that my pasta always tasted better. Being understandably flattered, I none-the-less was trying to figure out exactly what is it I was doing that was trumping the real thing. After few months I finally figured it out – I always made sure the blessed macaroni were thoroughly cooked (al dente somehow never captured my fancy), and I always liberally buttered the thoroughly cooked product (unless, of course, I was making meat sauce). That simple formula was a hidden meaning of my success!

Coming from a pretty traditional background, I learned to cook at a pretty early age, and later on was privileged to observe the real chefs – no, not Wolfgang Puck or Mario Batali – my grandmothers, may they rest in peace, and my mom. Thinking back about those lessons as an adult, I think I figured out a formula for being a decent cook, and it is pretty simple. You need precisely two things (in about 60/40 ratio): an innate talent and subconscious ability to gage the good combination of ingredients and spices, and needed cooking time, and a really big heart of a true balabusta; and, presto, truly fabulous meals are on the table. It is that simple – talent plus the genuine desire to feed the people you love or just like. You need genuine artistic abilities and a long and vigorous training if you aspire to be a Cordon Bleu chef. You need a little ability and a big heart if you would like to set a good dinner table for family and friends. Cooking is art, entertainment, sometimes even relaxation (yes, I am not kidding), but most importantly, it is fun and rewarding when you are trying to feed somebody else (even if you sometimes come up with Bridget Jones’s blue soup).

Be’Teavon and Zum Gesund!

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Вардан Маркос - "Прелюдия" И.С.Бах

Yet another variation on the classics that I keep listening to

Tuesday, February 16, 2010


Just in case you have missed it before, I am not a huge fan of organized sports. To me they (together with TV, Hollywood, and today’s politicians) smack of the original Roman circuses, completed with chariot races and gladiator fights. Add to that the grueling, inhuman regiments that the athletes are subjected too, usually from an early age, and the whole idea of glorification of the physical prowess, and you can count me out of the Olympics aficionados.

This time was no different, and yours truly did not catch any kind of Olympic fever. My personal impressions can be encapsulated in the following. Number one, I am glad that this time the host was a Democratic country. Number two, the more American medals, (especially gold), the merrier – just for the beauty of making everyone listen to the Star-Spangled Banner. And number three – the more drubbing the Russian athletes are going to get, the better (and this time I do not care who is going to get this honor). They are free to love and pledge allegiance to whatever rat hole they were born and raised in, but if they have the unmitigated gall of living and training here, and then representing Russian Federation in the games, they deserve to lose! By the latest count, Americans are first in the total medal count, and Russians are in 18th place – behind Czech Republic, Estonia, and Poland; this is what I call poetic justice.

And this just in: according the important news agencies like MSN, “US Goalies’ Helmets Came Under Fire”; why? Their helmets are in violation of International Olympic Committee Rules, because they have slogans, and having advertisements or political messages is verboten. Ryan Miller has “Miller Time” (his personal joke) and “Matt Man” (in honor of his cousin who died of cancer). Jonathan Quick’s offence is even worse – his helmet has “Support Our Troops”. You know what, scratch my non-involvement! My entire life I could not care less about hockey, but I really hope those guys win, so all the bastards will have to sit through another rendition of the Banner, and, hopefully, America the Beautiful and Yankee Doodle Dandy in the bargain!

Monday, February 15, 2010


In memory of innocent lives taken from our midst by the Muslim butchers in the name of their false prophet and their murderous cult.

May The Heavenly Father comfort the families of the murdered and may He visit the fate of Haman and his sons on our enemies today.  May we unite in love for each other – our best shield against anyone wishing us harm.

Thursday, January 14, 2010


Closer to the conclusion to one of the slower/end of the year workdays, I overheard two of my co-workers (one young and American born, another not so young and recently naturalized, being born in one of the South American countries famous for its drug cartels) laughing madly and droning something to the tunes of Americans being stupid. Yours truly, being her usual strange self, could not let the insult to her people pass, hence decided to join in this exchange of ideas.

So, I politely inquired as to the source of this levity and was informed that the above source is general American stupidity. I tried to explain to them that Americans are by far not stupid – just the victims of a broken educational system, for which we can profusely thank Jimmy Carter, among many others. In response I was asked if I watch “are you smarter than a fifth grader”; I usually watch only stuff on Channel 38 and even that when it usually appears on hulu. But I do have a passing acquaintance with this show, which only proves my point – there is a difference between the absence of a working grey matter and the absence of decent, well-rounded general knowledge.

Alas, the levity did not stop, my arguments fell on deaf ears, and the stupidity of the general American public was firmly established in the eyes of those two. Somehow, I did not feel to just politely agreeing to disagree, and I hit them with this parting volley: “You know – you are right. If 64 million Americans could vote Barak Obama into Presidency, Americans are indeed stupid.”

The resulting general effect was simply priceless.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010


As always, very belated, but most sincere

Back in the summer, Moshe tugged me for a “7 things I love” meme. Since that was the “dry period” for my blog due to the necessity of actually working during work hours, I never got to do it (even though meme’s are harmless fun in general, and that looked like enjoyable task in particular). Then, on Thanksgiving, I just wanted to post a list of things I am grateful for. Since I am very late for both entries, I am going to combine them and post things I love (which incidentally I am grateful for).

Fun list:

1. Books.
2. Great works of art by dead white males and females and great books by (hopefully) very much alive white females.
3. Delicious food and drink – especially fruits, anything with real whipped cream, and coffee.
4. Beautiful nature – especially when it is highlighted by warm sun and gentle breezes.
5. Vacations, vacations, vacations – that includes Disney (my first and enduring love), doing all idiotic tourist-y things, exploring strange places, and soaking in the turquoise waters of the magnificent ocean.
6. Comfortable clothes (especially night shirts) and the ability to stay in them as long as possible.
7. Gorgeous smells, especially flowers and perfume (hey, the sense of smell is the only one not affected by “original sin”).

Serious list:

1. My parents, my siblings (even when they are being a pain in the gluteus maximums - hopefully, I can always return the favor), and my nieces and nephew
2. My friends
3. My health (you can guess my age by that one)
4. Being a Jewess
5. Being a woman
6. My freedom
7. USA

Needless to say, all of those are the gifts from The Heavenly Father, and I know that He loves me even when I grouch and grumble (I am human, after all).

Monday, January 11, 2010


There are many things that I do in performance of my everyday boring activities that garner raised eyebrows from the passers-by, good natured jokes from my friends, and snide comments from my so-called well-wishers. One prime example is my choice of footwear.

Anyone who knows me personally can vouch that I wear flip-flops around nine months out of twelve – lately around eight months (due to the results of catastrophic man-made global warming). Surprise of surprises – I actually do that for purely practical reasons, and not to reinforce my nonsensical non-conformism.

Anyway, a few weeks ago I forced myself to go to podiatrist – this time due to my innate klutziness that results in my frequent walking into walls and assorted furniture. While making an appointment, I was asked to make sure and prepare a list of all different kinds of footwear I use for different purposes. “Oh, brother,” – was my mental exclamation – “another lecture by a medical professional coming my way”. To further the irony, it rained cats and dogs on the morning of my appointment, so, instead of wearing my derided flip-flops, I borrowed a pair of sneakers from my baby brother and trotted off.

The doctor was punctual and friendly, and he reassured me that my klutziness produced no lasting damage. He was also duly impressed with the general condition of my feet; and then the conversation turned to the dreaded topic – the footwear. He asked me if I were sneakers as a matter of course; I explained to him the reason for the Nikes and my obsession with the “beach shoes”. “So, you wear flip-flips most of the time?” “Yes; even when it gets cold outside, I keep a pair at work to change into.” “And at home?” “Then I just go barefoot”. Guess what his response was to my dreadful confession? “That’s very impressive! I wish all my patients did this – it’s healthy for the feet to be exposed to sun and air for most of the time.”

The second episode occurred about three weeks later when I went for my infrequent hair-cut. To hair salon which I frequent is pretty friendly and informal, which suits me just fine. So, while my hairdresser began on my head, she continued chatting with her previous client. In the middle of this chat, the other lady complimented my hair, telling me that it looks very healthy. The hairdresser got really excited and confirmed that my tresses were very silky to touch (thanks, ladies, you are making me blush). “You know why?” – She continued – “It’s because Barb does not put anything in her hair. All she does is shampoo, condition, and get them cut; no chemicals, no dies, no blow-drying – zip!” The other client was duly surprised and impressed at the same time.

Now I have a slight dilemma – should I submit this story to Glamour, Vogue, In Style, Lucky, and a few other choice publications offering beauty advice to women? Nah, just kidding.