DEFINITIONS

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.

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.

SLIGHTLY LATE INTRODUCTION

I decided that before I continue commenting on topics that bother me, I have to actually tell a bit more about myself, so the reasons for my anger and frustration may be clear (or clearer).

First of all, I am a woman (in case it was not obvious before).

Second of all, I am Jewish. That is the corner stone of my existence. I am what is commonly called Orthodox, which means I drive my employer crazy with strange schedules and Holidays that fall in the middle of nowhere. Seriously, I am committed to Judaism.
I have a very kooky, but wonderful family. Unfortunately, my parents decided a short while ago that they do not like each other anymore, so, at the ripe old age of thirty I became a "child of divorced parents". I try to joke about it, but sometimes it still bothers me. I also have amazing siblings. They are the best in the whole world! I am the oldest in our family, so I drive them crazy a lot; they usually pay me back handsomely.

I am also a "singleton"; I was never married, hence my addiction to Bridget Jones. I am a hopeless romantic, maybe that is why I am still single:).

I grew up in Russia when it was still called USSR, in Moscow, of all places. We came to America when I was almost 18. I won't say that my childhood was unhappy. I had my parents after all, and they tried to shield us as much as possible. But I resent and will always resent being called "Russian". I am a Jew from Russia, and that is a very big difference. For this, and many other reasons, I love America very much and consider myself an American patriot. I am a huge fan of late President Reagan, and yep, you guessed it! I am a right-winger politically, and very passionate about the topic. I firmly believe in American Constitution (the real thing, not the misinterpretation). I wish people would be more serious about studying it and the American history (again, the truth, and not the PC version).

I am also a New Yorker who actually loves New York! Well, Manhattan anyway. I can't imagine living anywhere else, and I am a true child of the big city.

I also love, love, love to read! I never go anywhere without a book. My sister's favorite story is how I once went to a wedding reception with a book:) I also love to discuss what I have read ad nauseum (to my listeners). My sister finally learned a valuable lesson of not recommending anything to read, let alone nag me to read it! Ahhh, Harry Potter:) But more on that later.

I also have strangely non-female characteristics: I hate to shop for clothes, wear make-up, or look in the mirror. My only female weaknesses are perfume and nails. I am a big cat person, but for the reasons too long to explain I live with a hamster named Degenerate (The First or The Second, I am not sure), and a palm plant which I am trying not to kill.

Last, but not least, I resent people not using their brain. I believe that accounts for tremendous amount of everyday frustrations and serious problems in the world. Some time ago, while studying the book of Genesis with my brother, I came upon one commentary, which made a tremendous impact on me. I do not remember the exact quote, but the general meaning was that a lot of people's sins are the result of them not using one of G-d's greatest gifts, the brain! How painfully true that is! The more I think about it and look around, the clearer the truthfulness of this statement is to me. How many people go through life doing things that are totally devoid of logic just because "that is how it is done" and "everybody does it like this"? When you stop and think and try to analyze so many things accepted as the way of life, you will begin to see their total irrationality, it not outright stupidity. So, Barb's world seems and feels like a wonderland most of the time