Book of Calm

A few years ago my roommate wisely pronounced that I happen to have a lot of unexpressed anger, and one of the venues for expressing that anger happens to be the kitchen. All of this happens to be true: yours truly has a tendency of remembering bad things for prolonged periods of time, and a charming habit of banging the pots and pans, swearing at the oven door, kicking the trash can, and engaging the broom in a kick boxing jousts. So, about two months ago, my roomie gave me a copy of the "Book of Calm" with firm assurances that the methods described there were tried and true, and I should really read it. And since I do not read self-help books on principle (Dean Edell being the rare exception), the book just calmly (pun not intended) stayed next to my computer desk.

Fast forward to last night, when I ended up dedicating more than three hours to "straightening up" the kitchen. When I tried to wash the rice pot, the kitchen was greeted with a loud rhetorical question to the tune of would it have killed anybody to soak the pot after they finished consuming the rice. My roomie was interested in clarifying the matter, and explained to me that the pot was emptied only about half an hour before, therefor the soaking would not have been very useful. After informing him that five minutes would have made a difference, I continued grumbling under my nose. In response to which "The Book of Calm" was recommended again.

TOUCH OF MINK

Or Reality Bites

This fine morning those of us fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to go to work had to navigate something that has a very poetic for such a nasty condition thing called wintry mix, otherwise known in New York as wet snow, rain, slush, puddles, extra grumpy people, treacherous sidewalks, clogged drains, and umbrellas sailing half an inch from your eye. Yours truly was one of these fortunate people.

Considering my total lack of proper footwear (another long story), I was very fortunate in a sense that I almost reached my office building without any mishaps; almost, of course, being the operative word. On the corner of my building, waiting for the light to change (I am dorky like that), I was splashed almost literally from head to toe by a passing black Kraut (read fancy) car that seemed to be in extreme hurry. After I regained my equilibrium by denigrating the driver and his ancestry in two languages, all of the sudden I remembered a movie called "That Touch of Mink", after which I dissolved into the uncontrollable giggles.

"Touch of Mink" is an old goofy comedy starring Cary Grant and Doris Day. Its contents are not extremely profound, but quite entertaining, and, considering the subject matter, really clean. The reason I remembered this movie was because Day's character, a clean cut small town girl, gets dowsed with the puddle water in the beginning of the movie by a passing fancy car of the rich businessman played by Grant. What ensues after that is a very entertaining comedy of errors: Day's character gets to spend some time with Grant's, even advise him on important business matter, receives a proposition to be his mistress, gets a wonderful new wardrobe from Bergdorf (completed with mink coat), and gets whisked away to a tropical paradise.

Of course, her small town morals got in the way, and eventually, after some pretty hilarious twists and turns, they got married.

So, for some unexplainable reason, here I am, sitting at my desk in my drying denim skirt, working and contemplating the disparity between Hollywood and reality. As my little friend Goshka said, while sitting on his potty, "Life!"

INTERESTING WEEKEND

Weekend before last (after the supposed birthday, not the supposed circumcision) turned out to be quite entertaining. First of all, after years of trying to interest yours truly in going to the Hashivenu retreat, my sister finally convinced me to go this year.

Here is a short list of memorable highlights:

Got to babysit an almost empty office (besides me, it contained one harassed marketing coordinator and one rotten intern, who literally fell asleep by his workstation).

Got to travel on Metro North for the first time in my life; the excitement included figuring out how to purchase a ticket, find a train, and navigate without the help of very useful uniformed employees of the above mentioned Metro North. Also, got to carry my Minnie Mouse suitcase.

Took a scenic ride with my brother in law through the charming city of Hartford (on the way back figured out that I could have actually walked from the station, if not for my blessed dyslexia).

Got acquainted with the Hartford's Hilton, which apparently just turned Hilton this year, and was previously Sheraton. According to my sis, I have missed on heavenly bed and bath experience. But hey, to me going to a nice hotel is already a wonderful pastime.

Got to eat a lot (and I mean a lot) of food; some was delicious, some so so; but the presentation was fantastic either way.

Got to use my bathing suit, which was specifically purchased for my Aruba trip, and since then was idling away in my dresser.

Met an amusing couple from Queens; observed their extremely entertaining interactions with the waiters.

Due to the superior organizational skills of one of our dear friends, ended up meeting and sharing a room with a very interesting lady (more on that to come).

Remembered once again why I avoid places where my people congregate in great numbers.

Witnessed my sister's great act of assertiveness; you go, girl!!

Managed to snap some cute pictures of munchkins.

Over all, it was an enjoyable Shabbat.

Which brings me to Sunday.

On Sunday we were supposed to attend our cousin's wedding ceremony. Highlights included the following:

Fluffies, overexcited from our previous trip, decided that they have exhausted their quota of decent behavior, and ended up demanding Mommy exclusively, which prompted some tricky manipulations on our side, resulting in somehow coming home hungry.

I personally could not understand the constant rendition of bad poetry by the guy leading the processions, but hey, I am strange like this.

Likewise, I could not, for the thousandth time, understand why Goth clothes are de rigor for all the occasions, especially weddings.

Met with a passing acquaintance, who was desirous to know how come I was at this particular wedding; maybe I was a friend of the bride? No, cousin of the groom. Cousin of the bride? Can't be! No, cousin of the groom. No way! Apparently, if I do not belong to their circle of young, hip, recently discovered Judaism Jewish professionals, I somehow do not know anyone, or have any friends, never mind family members.

Last, but not least: despite all hope and precedent, could not get drunk after three!!! drinks.

Over all, it was a great weekend. On the side note, I got reaffirmation of my previous plan: if and when I find somebody crazy enough to marry me (and get crazy enough to marry him), we will definitely elope! (Destination to be kept in strict confidence till actually needed).

ONE OF MY BIGGEST SOCIAL FAUX PAS

My time in seminary and a few years after that were full of wedding receptions of my classmates from both seminary and high school. I have attended all the ones I was invited to: I guess my logic at the time was that if they have honoured me with the invitation, I should respond by attending. Later on I realized that only one person invited me because she really wanted to see me at her reception; to the rest of them, I was just a nebuch (charity case) fat "Russian girl", not "put together", and a BT. And, since one always has to be kind to a nebuch (even if she does not think she is one), one has to invite her to one's wedding. I do not think that particular rule is mentioned by Emily Post, but then, our education did not include the study of the icon of social rules (come to think of it, that actually might have been beneficial to some people).

So, when one of my former classmates from seminary issued a wedding invitation, I responded in affirmative right away. But then, I was presented with a problem: what the heck was I supposed to do when not dancing? Because even though the bride, despite coming from a very affluent family, was a very nice and friendly individual, her clique was a classic, textbook collection of snobs. I have already attended plenty of weddings where I would stuff myself at the buffet only because very few people at the reception were known to me, or willing to talk with me, for that matter. Then, the inspiration struck: I would just take a book along!

That solution worked like a charm. I loaded my plate once, found a quite table, and read till it was time for Chupah. Then, during the dinner, I decided to be a polite person my parents have raised me to be, and did not take out my book. My fortitude lasted for about five or ten minutes of people chatting with each other over my head. "To heck with everything" , was my final decision, and out came my romance. Apparently, they were paying attention to me, because as soon as I opened my Nora Roberts, everyone stopped chatting and started staring at your humble servant. "Wow, Barbara, you are reading!" Again, my mom's teaching prevailed, and I did not respond with "as apposed to constantly bending my head, because you are talking to each other other it!"; I just smiled and nodded. Soon, they went back to talking to each other and ignoring me, but for about five minutes after discovering the presence of the book by our table they couldn't get over the whole scene.

Since then, I made a rule of not acquiring an evening bag if it was not big enough to hold a paperback; not that I ever dedicated much time to the evening bag shopping or posses a goodly amount of those. My sis likes to reminisce about this episode as a proof my being a non-conformist; to me it was a turning point of sorts. While never accepting social strictures on just "this is the way it is done", I always hesitated in actually doing something to offend the offending party. That little romance, in itself boring and insignificant, began my liberation. I do not have to descent to the level of ill-mannered boors to at least partially demonstrate to them how disgusting their behavior is; I can also have lots of enjoyment in the process. And that is the story of one of my biggest social faux pas.

FOILED AGAIN

Few months ago I wrote about making a wrong impression on one of my co-workers by reading Moish's blog, but I was hoping for his (my co-worker's) good graces, since he knew me for a year before this unfortunate incident. Well, guess what? Last Friday he stopped by my desk for something or other, and this time I totally forgot to minimize my Internet window. As a result, I think his opinion of me sunk even lower, since, due to the absence of the main boss and some free time, I was shopping for the unmentionables on the e-bay.

ANOTHER GREAT AD

Here is another great ad that I have found on Monster. This one is from the "to puffed up with my own importance" category. Again, I did not change anything, including the misspelled words.

"Personal Assistant to Young, Successful and Entrepreneurial CEO
The ideal candidate must be highly intelligent and have excellent writing skills. Multi-tasking, resourcefulness and exceptional communication skills preferred. Proficiency in Microsoft Office, specifically Word and Excel. Candidate will most often work from employer’s home in Lower Manhattan.
This position is ideal for a college or graduate student. Part time, flexible days and # of hours available, although availability at 8am on scheduled days is pertinent.
**Ivy League Undergrad or Graduate Student Preferred**
*NYU and Rutgers Students Considered*
The candidate is expected to primarily handle very personal errands, including coordinating agenda, wardrobe planning and maintenance, arranging social events, valet/ concierge work, coordinating decorating/maintenance, insurance matters, etc. Responsibilities will also include, but are not limited to travel arrangements, vendor relations, management of calendar, filing and other general clerical duties. Ability to anticipate needs and maintain the highest level of confidentiality is required. Hours are flexible.
***This position does not offer healthcare and it pays on a 1099***
***Ideal for a college or graduate student.*** (Part-time)
***Exposure to personal wardrobe shopping - requires a keen fashion sense***
***Event plannning***"

NATIONAL DONUT DAY

This morning, I found out that today is a national donut day. I never knew before that we have such Holiday, never mind that it is today. Never the less, congratulations to Homer Simpson and the entire police force! Enjoy!

CONGRATS!

A very belated, but most sincere, congratulations to my friend Moish, who's blog finally got the official adult rating. Now, before entering, you have to affirm that you are eighteen and above.

Gongrats, Man! I know the road was long and thorny, but you got there!

GREAT AD

Here is the job ad I have found on Monster. I am posting it verbatim, so you could really enjoy.

Jr Fit Model/Admin Asst

Leading NYC ladies knit & swtr importer seeks full time female fit model to also act as administrative assistant to head juniors designer. Candidates must have the following measurements:
Bust 35"
Waist 27"
Low Hip 37"
Bra Size 34B
Height 5'7"

A GREAT PIECE OF NEWS FROM AUSTRALIA

Compliments of my brother

http://www.reuters.com/resources/flash/includevideo.swf?edition=US&videoId=78638