Why is this night different?

I"m a little nervous right now.....in a couple of hours I'll be attending a Passover Seder at George and Ellie's house.

I don't know them very well....they are short and sweet and retired and nod at me when I see them at temple. They have been kind enough to invite me to join a group of family and friends to celebrate the first night's Seder because Passover is a community and family event.

For the last two weeks, there's been a palpable buzz among the congregation....as everyone finds a seat....a table...a family for Passover. Some houses have mega celebrations with 30 or 40 people...others fill a dining room. I've been told George and Ellie hold a "traditional" Seder which means I will probably have to do a considerable amount of lip-syncing and pretending....as my Hebrew is at the kindergarten level and I only know one song very well.

I will never forget the first Seder I attended a couple of years ago. It was a second night Seder at the temple....where congregants plus anyone in the community is invited to experience this ritual.

As my seat mate carefully explained the Seder tradition......I realized that the first night Seder....the most important one during the week long celebration of Passover....is traditionally held in people's home. I was awed by the concept that a religious community would "allow" its members to celebrate..."unsupervised"..... one of the most important holidays in the Jewish faith. Having grown up Catholic....it would be the equivalent of performing the Christmas or Easter mass at your house.

No Catholic would ever think of doing that because: a mass can only be said by a priest, a specially ordained person, a lay person is not worthy or holy enough to do this.....it must be conducted in a church or pre-approved spot, and the liturgy is uniform/consistent/approved.

And here are Jews.....celebrating and honoring their faith and experiences in their ordinary homes as ordinary people... reform or liberal congregations can even add or revise elements of the ritual and select different texts ...hagggadahs....to use.

It was an astonishing thought to me that each man or woman was "good enough" to participate in the ceremony....that a family could "handle" the rituals without an ordained spokesman .....that a group of people....could, in effect, be responsible to praise God directly from their own dining rooms.

I remember I was so excited about this idea of ordinary people celebrating and handling their religious rituals....about the sense of community and level of responsibility each person had for their own lives.....I decided right then and there....to act on the tug I always felt toward this faith and begin studying.

In essence....it was the start of my own exodus from one place in my life....to another.

And that is why on a personal level.....I know why this night is different .....for me.

Sometimes you just don't know what to say......

Phoooey

Phooey......went to the doctor this morning and they said the pins in my toes would have to stay in for another 12-14 days.

Felt deflated......walking around in a boot is hard and tiring and not much fun. You would think I would be loving all the couch time.....reading.....watching DVDs....but it's just the opposite....for some reason I'm not interested in reading or shows.....all I want to do is what I can't do....walk around.

Today....this evening....I'll fill my evening with slips of paper as I try and organize our taxes......that should keep me out of the trouble for the next couple of days.....but even if I use up three days for taxes....there's 9 days left.

I suppose when it gets warmer in a day or two....I can have one of the men folks put a chair out and get a little sun......but as you can see my enthusiasm even for sunshine is very small.

The sale of my parent's house is stalled....plus about three other things in my life.....so it's just not the foot....it seems my life is stalled....and I'm not Ms. Patient.

Sigh....12-14 days.....
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Long JOHNS and LONG johns

Couching while your foot is recovering from surgery is not fun.

TV is boring....and for some reason I can't concentrate on reading.

So I decided to send some emails....reminders to the kids, late correspondence, finish business.

In Chicago I discovered two sets of brand new women's silk long johns. I brought them home because they were so delicate and silky. I decided to see if my daughter might want them since she lives in Columbus, Ohio where winter chill can sting.

To be cute.....I decided I would add a picture of long johns to the email.


So I googled " long johns."

Wow! Does the word long johns translate into penile anatomy in Swedish?

This was the first image that came up.

Hmmmm looks like the Prostata is bit out of whack.

Maybe I had my google filter off....because there were more pictures like this


than pictures which looked like this.

Side effects of couching.....too much TV

Well it's post-op Day 4 and I'm disappointed I'm still reclining on the couch.

I'm down from 3 ouch days to 3/4 of an ouch days....but I still can't walk without feeling a dainty hot poker in my foot. Sigh.

I gathered lots of things around me to keep me busy.....bills, newspapers, books.....good friend Jason even loaned me Tru Blood Season 1.......unfortunately....I discovered that pain plus pain medication......means you can't concentrate........which means.....you make friends with your TV.

I don't watch much TV when I'm uncouched..........I meet people who want to chat about the American Idol contestants....or this series or that series.....and I am totally lost....with the exception of a bit of news....perhaps the Daily Show....Colbert......I simply have too much too do. And when a series does sound interesting.....like the Sopranos or Madmen..... I just wait till it's on DVD and rent it.

So it's weird to sit in front of the TV and watch it hour after hour in real time with commercials.

During the day, Hoda and Kathy Lee have been eye-openers because they're the auditory equivalent of chalk squeaking on a blackboard. Kathy Lee makes a perfect talking bobble head and I want to tell Hoda to get some backbone and bitch slap Kathy Lee for some of her remarks. Rachel Ray is way too peppy and I'm sure she is on drugs....you can't be that estatic over mediocre pasta dishes.

I made an effort in the evening to watch shows I've only heard about....like the Housewives of NYC. I sat mesmerized for the entire show. I couldn't believe this was actually a TV show....watching bitchy women be bitches. I think it must have a following because women are reliving their high school days. If you ever wondered what happened to the pretty popular bitches that formed a clique in every high school......here they are. They married rich.....they have pretty houses.... jerk professional husbands.....and they gossip and have hissy fits over inconsequential girlfriend issues. Who is going to what party? Who said what to whom? Who said one thing and did another. I was just as astonished watching these women on TV as I was watching the clique operate in high school....Will these chicks ever grow up? Apparently...they don't......they just move to different venues.....like the Hamptons.

I have watched enough animal shows and animal rescue shows to feel like a vet student. Thank God these animal rescue shows don't operate like QVC.....the home shopping network....because I'm sure I would have adopted half of them: the Boxer with advanced mange..... the cat with it's tail chopped off.....the one-eyed cat with special needs.

And finally there's all these wedding shows.....Bridezilla....The Four Weddings and some other bridal show I've forgotten the name of. I felt obliged to watch them because my daughter is getting married and I want too see what's going on in the world of weddings. What's going is people are spending an incredible amount of money. Obviously I'm too practical ...I keep watching and thinking.....is this what a young woman should do with $100,000? or even $50,000? I mean the day after......you don't have a down payment on a house or car or splendid vacation or anything more tangible than the photos which arrive from your photographer. Memories are good....parties are good......but so is a down payment on a love nest.

And finally there's Cops. When the menfolk visit me on the couch.....they groan at animal shows or wedding shows.....so I've watched a fair amount of Cop and Chase shows. I admit they're fascinating. Watching a car speeding down a street courtesy of a helicopter crew....is mind-numbing voyerism and watching some of the people the Cops catch and deal with is hypnotic. The other night the cops arrested a hooker in Las Vegas who wanted $150 for some action. Fat, at least 60, unkempt....missing some teeth....in a baggy t-shirt and cut offs......I was like...whoa....some dude would sleep with her for $150 bucks???? LOL>>> it somehow makes me feel more valuable....geez I could get at least....????

Well the men folks have gone on errands....and my tummy is rumbling for lunch.....so I'm going to put my special boot on and hobble to the kitchen. Hopefully the bagels are still on the counter and the coffee from this morning is still on warm.

Hopefully.

Surprise surprise....the bitchy clique in high school you remember ....grew up.....remains bitchy and just got their own TV show.

Ouch ouch ouch

Damn.....two days out and I still can't walk. Graduated to ice packs
and now Codiene. There's a time to be tough and there's a time to
close your eyes and go down the rabbit hole.

Double ouch

Ouch ouch I had to have surgery on my sweet little toes.

Ouch ouch the remote is on the other side of the room and I'm forced
to watch Hoda and Kathy Lee.

Two very painful situations.

Somethings aren't supposed to be donated to Goodwill

I was headed out door when I saw it.

OMG!!!!!!

Do I run up to the table and grab it? Or do I run out the door?

It was fight (I mean grab) or flight....and I choose flight.

I zipped out the door, jumped into the car and sped away.

A stoplight later I remembered.....I asked for a donation receipt...Goodwill has my name, address and zip code.

Every time the phone rings this afternoon....I cringe waiting for the menfolks to call out, "It's for you....it's Goodwill."

My parents.....had that odd sort of jokey 1950's off-colored sense of humor.

They had a bottle opener shaped like a naked lady.....some bar glasses with classic "naughty" jokes written on them......and even a fake olive or two shaped like a breast.

I guess you could label it "bar humor"......probably because it takes a drink or two for the item to become funny.

Behind their bar......lived the infamous......Penis apron.

A stable joke in their house for eons.....it was a apron....which looked like a pair of men's shorts.....and when you tied it around your waist....a 12 inch long hot pink stuffed cotton penis popped out.

The apron was designed so the penis didn't fully appear till it was tied around you. I don't remember my mother or father wearing it....but I do remember they tried to coerce friends to wear the apron....often by suggesting they could use some help cleaning up the dishes and.... wouldn't you want to wear an apron so you won't get your clothes dirty?

I don't think the apron actually got tied around anyone....because my parents or their friends dissolved into hysterical laughter before the strings could be tied.

Besides the pink dong....there was a side attraction. A small fake pocket....lift it up and some fake fur was arranged like this: ( ) I'm sure you get the idea.

The pocket rarely got lifted because most folks were too tired from laughing to endure another gag centered around the apron.

I found the apron in a box of my parent's clothes. I balled it up....and put it off to the side....unsure of what to do with it....garbage? keepsake? maybe it could be a priceless eBay item.

Yesterday....I scooped up their clothes to bag and take to Goodwill and yep....inadvertently included the penis apron.

I glanced at the work table while a man was writing my receipt...a saggy tired gray haired man...... dumped my bag onto the table for sorting. A woman, working behind the counter, said, "I'll be right there Bob, to help ya."

That's the exact moment I noticed the green apron....bundled up with its 12 inch long penis waiting inside as a surprise.

I am sure Bob and the lady would be surprised.

Are they going to laugh? Are they going to drop down on their knees and pray for the perverted woman who donated the penis apron? Or is some vice-president of operations going to call me and politely request I refrain from leaving pornographic items?

My hub thinks they laughed.....

I am hoping they left both Jesus and their manager out of it...and simply tossed it in the garbage.

I suppose there is a remote chance that Bob or the woman thought it was so funny....he or she bundled the apron up and took it home....where it could become a tradition in some other family.

Right....that last option is pretty remote.

Still I feel a little bad the life-of-the-party ended up in the trash.....surely somewhere .......somebody........ could have loved it?

An inferior replica of my apron...which looked like a pair of men's shorts and carried a 12 inch long hot pink penis instead of a pathetic stubby.

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A bedtime song....or a midday pause

Thanks....Krista and Damn, Gina

Book Fog

Home again.....and watching the full moon move across the sky for a while tonight.

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Funny drive.......started listening to an audio book called..."The Help."

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I was quickly snatched into the story.....instead of the usual single narrator....there are 5 narratives which portray different characters so it's like listening to a book and a play...the first two chapters center on two different maids that work for white families in Mississippi.....then the third chapter introduces a young white girl....of course..... an aspiring writer.

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I smile and recognize many things the young wanna be writer is thinking and dreaming about ....the way she wants to write....the stories she wants to tell.

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She has returned home after college....but instead of writing she's always trying to escape her mother.....who criticizes her.... and always wants the young woman to act or talk or dress to correspond to the proper image the mother has in her head.

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I nod and uh-huh as the character moves about her story....because elements of the story mirror my life. Suddenly I stare at the radio...as if a snake just flew out of the speaker.......what? ......I hear it again........the character and I share the same first name......an unusual name and not one often heard in stories.

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If there's anything that can give you the willies....it's hearing your own name in a story with all too familiar details.

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Every time the mother sharply calls out her daughter's formal name...the one we share....I jump in my car seat then grasp the steering wheel a wee bit harder.

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I was so engrossed in the story......I was only dimly aware of this persistent beep beep beeping that began breaking into the book fog I was in.

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"Shitttttttt"

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I look down.....my gas gauge is not only showing the "get gas icon" but it's dinging....a signal that I only have minutes before the car stops. A bit paniced....I stop the CD story and concentrate on scanning the horizon. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see BP Gas sign off the interstate .

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Damn.....that was way too close.

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I finished 10 out of 14 CDs....and sat in the driveway for 5 minutes waiting for a chapter to end before I could turn off the engine.

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I feel the pull right now to go out into the car and get the discs.....and finish the story.....but....I know I won't be able to stop at one disc...and there's probably 4 more hours of story to go.

Better to work on my day....and clear my calender tomorrow evening.....and give the story it's proper time and respect.

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Funny....that full moon is so slippery.....it's already out of sight...I believe that's a sign I should slip into bed too.