I’m the one who randomly dreamed of serving you fried onion pizza on Pesach. (Again, true story.)
I’m the one who probably creeps you out, albeit unintentionally. I hate being that person.
I’m the one who is failing miserably at showing you that I care. Perhaps I care too much.
I’m the one who worries like crazy that you’ll never be given a chance. Your circumstances are so unique; so delicate.
I’m the one who prays that you find your way.
Yup, you found me.
Now please try your hardest to find you.
If you absent-mindedly notice that your toothpaste looks thicker and whiter than usual when you squeeze it out, it’s probably not toothpaste.
(If you have babies in the house, it might just be a squeeze tube of Desitin.
Desitin on teeth feels really yucky. And it’s practically impossible to remove from the bristles of your favorite toothbrush.)
You might want to keep that in mind.
I’m feeling frozen.
There’s a solid block of tears pressing on my heart, crushing it slowly.
And I’m scared to defrost.
No, I don’t want to just take something upon myself, or hear passionate eulogies, or work to accept His will, or praise our nation.
I don’t want to absorb, to digest, to try to understand.
Because if I don’t process, then I don’t have to move on.
I hate Moving On.
How does everyone else always seem to be able to react appropriately?
What’s wrong with me?
The cutest, peppiest, wriggliest little worm.
It just seemed so settled there, in my cashew.
There was a happy ending for both of us.
Just thought you should know.
(Note to self: I’m going to regret this post.)
So this is my first attempt at Dear Blanking, using some of my favorite blogs as fodder.
I have been reading frum blogs for a very very long time. (Sigh.)
If, like myself until pretty recently,you’ve never heard of Dear Blank letters, read Blobby’s introductory post first.
If I omitted your awesome blog, please take no offense – I’m simply not funny enough to cover them all.
Plus, I needed to leave some for others.
(As a relatively new blogger, I feel kinda safe doing this.
Ain’t that much to make fun of here. :smirk:)
Would you please stop blaming everything on me?
Sincerely, Your devoted iPhone
Who are you to talk about life on a cotton ball, anyway? Please explain.
Sincerely, Rubbing Alcohol
Please stop being so “harryer than thou.” It’s getting annoying.
The Yeshiva Bochur who carries his tefillin in a fanny pack, beat that!
What’s the excuse gonna be when you graduate? (Seriously, lay off, we can’t take the pressure…)
(P.S. – If you’re really a married old grump, there are going to be a lot of angry people.)
We guessed. Everyone and their Zeidy.
Do you EVER say no?
P.S. – And how the heck do you look so young?
Hat Tip: Blobby
This is a long-term belief of mine, but I’m recording it here for posterity.
I firmly believe that every person I know needs a wise someone or three to dump on.
In my personal case, this someone happens to be unlicensed, and he’s also coincidentally the love of my life.
Before I met him, it was a really close friend. She still stands in for him occasionally.
As a child, it was my amazingly insightful mother, who is obsessed with giving us our space since we married, and will never advise me now unless I literally beg.
Sometimes that person will be a relative, sometimes a friend, and sometimes a stranger who is professionally trained to take the place of the previous two.
But everyone needs one.
My theory is that as long as the crucial relationships in a person’s life are functioning normally 98% of the time, the need for a professional is rare.
When 30-something year old Average Joe (AJ for short), who has typically healthy relationships, has a problem with his parents or friends or his boss, he turns to his wife for guidance and support.
When AJ has a problem with a sibling, he turns to his parents, or wife or other close friends.
When AJ has a problem with his wife that he can’t resolve on his own, he turns to his Rabbi or a close friend.
A person with a normal support system has a built-in system override for when an otherwise smoothly running relationship hits a bump in the road.
There are exceptions, though.
The exceptions are for when one of these crucial relationships is impaired, or when there is a specific trauma or atypical situation. Then there is the need for an exceptionally capable individual to unravel the tangles in the system. If this individual can be found within the vicinity of of the person-in-question’s built-in relationship set – that’s awesome. If not, there is often a need for the input of a professional listener/adviser.
And there should be no shame in that.
Of course I absolutely need to start a blog on Erev Pesach.
I’m a lefty.
We do things differently.