Timing is Everything

Today somehow got away from me, but that's ok, because it was mostly for good reasons. Let's just say that I spent a good part of the morning with Break Fast leftovers (although not nearly as bad as I thought), spent a few hours out enjoying the spectacular Indian Summer weather, delivered homemade chicken soup to my friend who needed it (Jeffrey made it, I helped) and watched him enjoy it, had dinner at home with the 4 of us (also cooked by Jeffrey) and spent the remainder of the night writing something non-blog related, but was completely immersed in. Let me explain...

Seven weeks from today I am leaving on a two-week adventure that will hopefully be the beginning of many journeys to come. I am fortunate to have been asked to join my Executive Director (who is also a close friend and professional mentor) on a trip to Poland and Israel. Along with participants from 19 other JCC's across the country, we will learn about an exciting new initative of the JCC Association. JCC Boarding Pass will shape the future of Israeli and Jewish travel for our community and yours. Customized trips will be designed to suit the needs and interests of today’s traveler. This familiarization trip for JCC representatives will give us a firsthand look at the types of experiences the Boarding Pass program will provide. I can't say it better than the brochure, so I won't try, "Each day will focus on a different aspect of Poland and a different aspect of contemporary Israeli life - nature, fitness, technology, food and wine, politics, and the arts. Our guide will help us see beyond the ordinary tourist point of view and invited experts will add deeper dimensions to our journey." Our commitment for participating is to book an upcoming trip for members of our community in the next few years; my personal one is to plan and lead the many journeys I know we will take. Somehow, just when I thought that my empty nest in two short years would leave me purposeless, an opportunity comes along with all the power and promise to make that next phase more exciting and fulfilling than I could have hoped for. I am inspired to find unique and interesting destinations not just in Israel, but wherever there is Jewish life around the world, appealing to all ages and interests.

Of course there will be blogging, not sure if it will be daily, but you'll be with me. I'm a little nervous to go away for this long and this far all by myself, but I know I'll be fine and so will Jeffrey and Andrew at home. I'm also a bit scared about how I will react to our visit to Auschwitz, the Nazi extermination camp. I can't even imagine the magnitude of my sadness in a place where millions of Jews were murdered. I've visited Israel before, when I was 18 and less than interested in most things other than the hotel pool and the soldiers, so this should be a whole new look at Israel for me. I am learning all I can in the meantime, researching the details, and making notes. Which leads me back to why this has become today's post. I was writing what I guess you could call the "mission statement" for our participation in this staff trip. I knew what I wanted it to feel like, but it took me a while to get it down on paper, and I'm sure when I sit down with boss man tomorrow he'll have some thoughts too. But that's expected and that's why we work so well together. So before tonight turns in to tomorrow, I want to get this one posted, and move on to Monday (already have something in mind).

Thanks for understanding, you could always use today to catch up on an entry you missed or re-read an old favorite. Every now and then I go back and read an old one; sometimes I laugh and sometimes I cringe, but I never delete (and I could). I feel better that I finally shared my upcoming “journey” as part of this one – hated keeping a secret from you, but timing is everything and now is the time. Glad you’ll be with me for the experience and who knows, get your passport renewed, you could be on my inaugural booking.

The Fast Approach

This day is going far better than expected. Apparently (although I'm a little wary of being presumptuous in this case), the "person" upstairs has already signed me in to the good book this year. It is now 10:39 am on the day before Yom Kippur, which in my world means Break Fast prep day, and I am way ahead of schedule. As of sundown, Kol Nidre will usher in Yom Kippur, The Day of Atonement. This passage is traditionally observed with a 25 hour period of fasting (no eating or drinking) followed by a "breaking of the fast", where we overindulge in all things dairy and fattening. In this house we have modified to roughly 24 hours, or dinner tonight to Break Fast tomorrow. There are a few other things Jews are supposed to abstain from including, No wearing of leather shoes, No bathing or washing, No anointing oneself with perfumes or lotions and No marital relations. I can honestly tell you that I will bathe (including brushing my teeth), more than likely I will be wearing leather shoes, can't promise there will be no lotion or perfumes, and the last one is likely out of the question anyway, considering how tired I will be at the end of today. I'm not worried about the public declaration of my non-observant ways, whether I blogged about it or not, I assume it is well known to the one who judges and I've been doing it this way all along. I figure I cover most of my bases by fasting and the Temple hours tomorrow, and thus far in my adult life it's turned out ok.

Back to today, I arrived at The Crown Supermarket (our local kosher spot) at 7:45 am. I do not keep a kosher home, but there is no other place I would purchase hand-sliced Nova lox at $33 a pound. This holiday meal is my hands-down favorite and there will be no skimping on the salmon. After a day of fasting, my first bite of lox and bagels must be perfection, no other slice is acceptable. My guests have also come to expect the top grade fish platter (3 lbs. this year), maybe that's why they keep returning. I would guess that barely a quarter pound will remain when the dishes are done. The lox is just the hallmark of the Break Fast table; it's surrounded by countless other dairy indulgences. There will be three kugels, all different (varying degrees of noodle width, fruit inclusion and sweetness); all being made by different guests and all delicious. I will prepare 2 varieties of a French toast Soufflé, one plain and one with bananas. I am also responsible for the tuna and egg salad, both prepared only with Hellman’s (not fat-free or reduced fat, the original). My egg salad is legendary in its simplicity and perfection, eggs, mayo (just the right amount), salt and pepper – nothing else. The Crown provides the herring fillets in sour cream sauce; but once a year I crave this fishy delicacy. The main spread is completed with Bagels (regular and flat), rye bread, cream and chive cheese, Muenster and Swiss, red onions and tomatoes, and an Edible Fruit arrangement. The secondary buffet of desserts, which can be eaten simultaneously with dinner, includes a variety of homemade (not by me) specialties; lemon squares, Phyllis’s Chocolate Chip cake (referenced in the Nana P. post), apple cake and store bought ruggelach. There is nothing gourmet or fancy at this venue; this is not intended to be an epicurean holiday, this is Break Fast the way my family has been eating it for years. After the bagels & lox, I will work my way through each station until I can’t swallow another mouthful, and unfortunately that will come too soon. Sunday will luckily provide me with a whole day to re-enjoy each menu item; even tastier in my sweatpants, with my coffee, Sunday paper and Charles Osgood.

Of all the Jewish holidays that I host, this is the one I will fight the hardest to keep. Besides the fact that it is my most beloved foods, it is also the first holiday I had in this house and it is also the last one I shared with my father. So as some of you know, I stand my ground on Break Fast. I get to decide when it’s time to pass the Bagel Torch, if you love me, don’t even try before then. My Break Fast prep has developed its own routine over the past 14 years and kicks in to high gear the day before. I’m at the Crown bright and early; if Jeffrey is home he comes with me and we get coffee first (which only happens when Break Fast happens on a Monday and Sunday is prep day). Today I was by myself and I had coffee at home. There was no waiting and I was in and out in less than an hour, mostly because I did not see that many people, which would have increased my shopping time ten-fold. I did kind of miss that part today; lots of kissing and hugging and “how’s the family” and good wishes for an “easy fast. “ I did, however, see no less than 3 Rabbis in my travels (not all at one store), totally intrigued that they were all out shopping, you would think that they have some more pressing prep work to do? There were secondary store visits for all the other grocery items, flowers, coffee, and paper goods; all of which still got me home with the car emptied in less than 2 hours. I am fairly confidant this was a personal best. The remainder of the day will be spent making egg and tuna salads (both must be made today as I cannot “taste test” tomorrow), digging out platters and servers, and cleaning. Superwoman that I am (and that was totally facetious), I will also prepare a roasted chicken and baked potatoes for dinner (Jeffrey’s favorite), for which I will happily set 5 places at the table; the usual three, plus Scott and Auntie Sherri. Dinner will end with apples and honey and a blessing for a sweet New Year before we begin our fast.

Tomorrow I hope to arrive at Temple by 10, although slightly lower expectations from last week as Scott will be joining us and he will be more difficult to motivate. My mother and her husband will get there before us and attempt to do the unthinkable and save us soft seats, more than likely she will not succeed and we will head to the folding ones in the rear. Good weather is predicted which means there will be extended visitation after the service and I won’t be back home until after 1 pm. The preparation rituals continue when my mother comes over, changes out of her Temple clothes into her sweats and begins her assigned tasks of plattering lox, tomatoes and cheeses. She will run through my set up, each food item has already been assigned a platter and is labeled as such with a little piece of white paper (a Mom trick I have continued), she will make changes and I will let her. Jeffrey will do the bagel run and whatever else I need. I will barely notice that I haven’t eaten until the “no coffee” headache sets in by about 3:00 pm and If I’m lucky I will get to sit down for about 45 minutes before I have to change and start the show. Friends and family will arrive, pretty much the same mix since I started, and the eating will begin. With tomorrow being a Saturday night, I imagine we may linger a bit longer than usual and perhaps some alcohol might be in order. When the last guest leaves and the clean-up is done, I know I will be exhausted and full ..... and happy.

A night with the "Guys"

Every now and then the workday comes to a close much later than I was planning (like 6 pm yesterday) and a trip to the store or turning on the oven are not viable options. Yet the idea of sitting in a restaurant with menus and ordering and wait staff are no more appealing. This kind of night was made for Five Guys Burgers and Fries. It doesn't happen very often, thankfully for my jeans, but when the mood strikes there is nothing like it. There are a few other "bad for me" food cravings that you will learn about when their time comes; if I talk about them now it could create an unnatural urge and that is a dangerous thing. For now, I will focus on the tasty, fast, greasy, goodness of the Guys.

This fast-food burger is really too good to be mentioned in the same category as the Golden Arches or the King or even Dave's Daughter.  The only comparable I've ever eaten in the over-the-counter category would be In-N-Out, and we don't have them here, so I never have to choose. If I was going to trade up to a restaurant burger, that’s a whole different story. That night usually includes a beer and maybe some higher-end sides. If it were that kind of meal I'd be at Max Burger, and if the wait is over 45 minutes, I would head to Joe Pizza (despite the name, great burgers and eggplant fries). Last night I had simple goals: eat and go home, fast and cheap.

The five guys experience is perfect from beginning to end. Order at the counter, no choices to make other than cheese or no cheese, single or double, free topping selection, fry quantity and beverage.  Full disclosure:  cheese, double, no toppings (5 Guys purist), 2 large fries (for 3 adults), water. Take a number, take a seat, and eat unlimited free peanuts (in the shell, not a bowl) while you wait. A recently added soda machine in our location (made by Maserati, I think) serves up individually created flavors with hundreds of possible combinations. Not appealing to me from a beverage standpoint, I am a "water only" girl (although the water button is nice and the water is cold and clear) but Andrew liked the PowerAde, vanilla, something else concoction he invented. Soon enough our number is called and I dole out the tin foil packages by number to the three of us. The fries stay mostly in the bag, already showing signs of grease penetration on all sides, but I pay no attention because I am already under a potato spell. On a side note, although it's a cute gimmick, I'm not sure I need to know where the spuds were raised (tonight’s were from Redlands, Washington). All I really need to know is that 2 large orders are placed in the brown bag, another load is dumped in as an added bonus and that mixed in among the ordinary ones are the extra crispy pieces that I will steal from everyone else's pile. Interesting fact, which is also irrelevant but must have some merit, fries and burgers are ”trans-fat free” (because that was going to be the decision maker for me). If you have dietary restrictions you have limited options, gluten-free eaters should stick with the fries (buns are glutinous) and Vegans, well you could enjoy the grilled cheese or the veggie sandwich, but beware, anything on the griddle could come in contact with both beef and gluten. I am fairly certain that the consumer with dietary concerns is not the target market here, and obviously if you have a serious peanut allergy, you should stay far, far away (free peanuts are displayed for the taking in large boxes). I do appreciate the corporate message on the way out the door asking customers to keep the peanuts inside the restaurant “in order to limit the risk of someone unknowingly coming into contact with peanuts." I wonder if this notice was the result of a lawsuit from a rogue customer who exited with handfuls of peanuts and randomly attacked highly allergic strangers in the parking lot? According to five guys management, they have offered the peanuts for 20 years, and although they don't want to exclude guests, they don't want to disappoint peanut-eating guests, and instruct those with Allergies to not "risk their health by coming in to our restaurants." I'm thinking that maybe they should warn those not taking Lipitor to do their best to also stay away.

My meal ends with when the last satisfying fry eaten intersects with a sudden feeling of nausea and disgust. It is often when the fry bag is finally empty, but last night there were a few unclaimed taters that joined the peanut shells in the garbage. On a previous visit the counter guy let me know that leftover fries provided a great base for home fries the next morning. Apparently he did not know that (a) there is usually nothing left "to go" and (b) the last thing I want or need the morning after is to revisit the fries. When I exit there are no peanuts in my possession (I am obviously looking out for the allergy prone) and I once again vow that this will not happen again for at least a few months. I did not add insult to injury with dessert; other trips have ended with an ice cream "palate cleanser", but thankfully not this one. Hours later when I have digested enough to attempt sleep; I pay the price for the salt overload and accompanying water compensation with multiple nighttime trips to the ladies room. I will do my best to stay away from salt in any form today; there is Temple and hosiery in my future, bloating is not a welcome addition.

I apologize if I made anyone unnecessarily hungry or if you’re getting in the car right now to head to your local Five Guys. If by chance that happened, enjoy it today, pay for it later tonight, and make up for it tomorrow. For now, I have successfully recovered from my fall off the wagon and tonight for dinner I will reward myself with a healthy, non-fried, non-fat (original tart) Pinkberry, topped only with fresh fruit.

  

Girls Night Out

Last night was girls' night out, celebrating a friend who just completed her Journey to 50. She wears it well (even better in her tiara last night), as do all the others at the table who previously marked the passage. Now that I think about it, there were only 2 of us left in the 40’s (or at least the last few months of it); nothing like hanging out with my “older” friends to make me feel young! Kind of interesting to evaluate the demographics of the 9 dinner guests; 4 empty nesters, 2 more next year, me the year after, 1 with a middle-schooler, and 1 previous empty nester with a grandchild in the house. 7 working, mostly full time, all married over 20 years, 13 sons and 7 daughters, 13 college tuitions; which in total means we had many glasses of wine and a lot of laughs. Which would also explain why I did not post a blog yesterday.

Even though I had no intention of making dinner a blog topic, and wasn’t intentionally lying when I told them I wouldn’t, I felt otherwise inspired today. Reflecting on the evening this morning got me thinking about what happens when 9 women sit around a table. The ladies among us know full well that no conversation is ever completed and no topic is off limits, and for the men out there, sorry you will not learn any secrets from me, can’t break the sisterhood circle of trust. I can confirm we are not talking about sports or the stock market. All the dynamics were in place for a good night; round table (rectangle leaves too many people feeling left out), manageable amount of women, everyone knows each other, no uncomfortable history (we are not the Real Housewives of New Jersey), loud restaurant (neighboring tables can’t hear the details) and a group that is not afraid to speak their mind. The toasting began at 7:30 and the cake and candles arrived by 9:30. I’d love to say we went clubbing or bar hopping afterwards, but really, we are still suburban mostly 50-year-old Jewish women. We went home, watched the news and went to bed – if I’m wrong about anyone else let me know. It is possible that one of us did slip out a bit earlier and she could have been headed to a casino, but I will await confirmation on that one.

In between we covered a range of topics, starting with the arrival of the appetizers. There were a few remarks about the Risotto Balls that quickly headed in an immature direction, not surprising that we arrived at the lowest common denominator within moments. Obviously we spent a good deal of time on our “perfect” children and a minute or two on our also “perfect” spouses. We attempted iPhone photos, but as you can imagine there was a good deal of secret deleting happening. My Missoni from Target stirred up some good-natured jealousy; can I help it if I arrived before it was all sold-out and accumulated a number of excellent wardrobe additions. At Target, as in life, the early bird catches the worm, or in this case the highly sought after, much coveted, zigzag knitwear. Don’t hate me because I had the release date on my calendar; stay tuned for the Jason Wu collection, shop with me if you dare. There was an unfortunate red wine spillage that landed on a new shirt across the table; I’m not sure if anyone took ownership for the splash, just glad it wasn’t me. We ran through a variety of  “news” items including, Michael Jackson’s good doctor, Conrad Murray, the illustrious father of 7 children from 5 mothers, 1 wife and 3 girlfriends (I could be off on the details, but not by much).  I’m sure he thinks that all these young attractive women were attracted to his good looks and personality and not his access to Michael Jackson? As parents of college kids, we spent some time on the recently released Amanda Knox, a universal nightmare. We also agreed that the media (and perhaps the Knox family), need to spend a bit more time remembering that Meredith Kercher, someone else’s college daughter, was murdered.

When we’re done covering “news”, we always manage to critique our latest television addictions. Dancing with the stars naturally led to Chas Bono, which segued into sexual transition, which began a lengthy evaluation of the process, which parts Chas has done and which he won’t, and how those parts will work. I added my recent interaction with the Target customer service “person” who was obviously en route to womanhood, and luckily for me was not accused of any embellishment; three of my fellow diners confirmed my description exactly, right down to the nametag. No disrespect intended, I’m sure it’s like being a “tween”, not quite fully developed but trying your hardest to act like the big girls. You Go Girl!, high-five to Target for being on board. The “housewives” always get ample discussion time; toss up between Theresa Guidice (NJ) and the recently fired Jill Zarin (NYC), and some ample “dissing” of Lisa Vanderpump, her husband Ken, his sexuality, their “friend” Cedric and their ridiculous dog, Jiggy.

We spent a few minutes offering child-rearing advice to the “Grandma” in the group. Not sure how qualified any of us are, no infants in any of our houses for over a decade. We did have a Preschool director, so her advice is not only acceptable, it is “up to the minute” and pediatrician approved. How is it that I raised three children who all survived naptime and sleep time face down in their crib, which nowadays would warrant a scolding from the experts and get a teacher fired? I’m also fairly sure that I did numerous things wrong with car seats and pacifiers, but the damage is done, and they seem to be thriving. Thankfully, (currently knocking on wood) I will not have to test out my baby knowledge any time soon, and regardless, as the mother-in-law I will have “no clue” what I am talking about.

Cake arrives; I do not believe there was any singing. The group gift is presented. Group gifts are the best for a number of reasons; better to get one big gift than 9 tzotchkes, only 1 or 2 of the givers has to be responsible for selection, one of those people generally has a good sense of what the birthday girl would like, and the card is also usually “all for one.” Only bad if you are the person who is collecting the money or selecting the gift, both can go from bad to worse if there are too many givers, it’s either too little or too much money, or the recipient is traditionally difficult to please. In this case, I believe we all paid up and she was very happy with the selection. We all got a gift in return when the birthday husband arrived on the scene to treat all the celebrants to dinner, a very generous and unexpected addition to an already great night. Nice touch “BB”, raising the bar for all the other husbands.

I should do this more often, there must be something we can celebrate on a monthly basis. No gifts required; just girls, dinner, discussion, drinks and the rest will unfold on its own.Iknow, if we meet on the 13^th of every month we can count down the months until my “Journey” is complete. Who’s in?

 

 

 

 

 

My Aching Head

I have a headache; the pounding in your eyeballs variety. I know it’s not a coffee headache because I had plenty of that this morning, and I slept fairly well last night, so it’s not a tired headache. Never had sinus issues, so can’t be that. I ate lunch (soup and toast), not hunger based. I guess that leaves the basic Monday, “I have a pressure-filled week ahead of me headache.” I would like to say I am going to take 3 Advil and get in bed, but that won’t happen any time soon. It’s 5:08 pm and I have to drive Andrew to Drivers Ed at 6, more than likely I’ll have to pick him up at 8 as well. I have a load of laundry in the washer and the dryer and a few more waiting in the wings. I am just beginning today’s blog (although maybe all this venting will help) and I broke a nail.

I can’t say that today was the worst Monday I ever had, in fact, nothing monumentally went wrong. It was just one of those days that never got off on the right foot. I actually got to work without too much hassle, dressed once (which is unusual for this time of year), and quickly accomplished a few of the pressing items on my to-do list. All of the sudden it’s lunchtime, the afternoon is looming, and I can’t concentrate on any single task, because they all seem too much to handle for a gloomy Monday. Emails that I sent in the morning had not yet been answered and no matter how many times I hit the refresh button, they did not arrive any faster. I took the path of least resistance and went home to work on a document that required a version of Microsoft word more updated than the 1997 edition on my office desk top. In the quiet of my home office I finished the project without interruption; no office small talk to distract me and the home phone almost never rings. Andrew was doing homework in his room and we both tapped away for hours on our respective keyboards. You would think that at 4:15 when I finally stood up to take the dog out and make a quick run to the post office, I would be content that I made it through the day with very few problems. But no, the banging hammer in my forehead indicated otherwise. I’m beginning to think that maybe I am suffering from the "let-down" effect of an exceptionally good weekend, which in contrast is making this Monday seem unusually bad. Maybe what I need, other than the 3 Advil, is to focus on all the positive things that happened today and all the good things coming in the days ahead. Let’s give that a try and see what happens.

· All the emails awaiting responses eventually arrived, some better than others, but I wasn’t left hanging.

· I happily discovered I did not gain any brisket or wedding weight from the last few days of overeating

· I found $5 in the pocket of the pants that I put on this morning

· I took the first step in an exciting new opportunity ahead at work (details in a future post)

· I arrived at work after they arrested the recently paroled sex offender loitering in the parking lot

· I got to the post office before they closed at 5 and had the correct address listed in my contacts

· My 13 year old golden retriever, Boola, did not pee on the floor today (unlike most other days)

· I made a few new Facebook friends, reaching I know.

· Jeffrey is working late (not a positive), but he is picking up Andrew at 8 (this is the good part)

· The above means that I did not have to cook dinner, Andrew ate leftovers before class

· Both of the above means that I could have frozen Yogurt for dinner, Robeks, a temporary substitute until Pinkberry opens.

· Which leads to the good news that Pinkberry is coming to the neighborhood, tart "swirly goodness” is in my future on a regular basis.

· Both out of town children called me just to “check-in” today

· The cool fall temperatures make my still broken air conditioning irrelevant

· I finally understand the new Facebook system; don’t like it, but adjusting.

· As of 7:20 pm, I have 5,754 hits to this Blog

· I did not miss the deadline to order my Break Fast food from The Crown

· My New York Break Fast guests are bringing “flat bagels”, somehow not made in Connecticut

· After this week I have two 3-day weeks in a row, observing Sukkot and Shemini Atzeret, obviously.

· One of those weeks I will hopefully be in the audience at The Chew, ABC (locally at 1 pm channel 231)

· Which means, I will be in the same room with Clinton Kelly for the 2^nd time in my life

· At the same time I will be in the presence of Michael Symon, Mario Batali, Carla Hall and Daphne Oz

· And I will see a good friend, which is even more important

· Amanda Knox is finally free, that was a hell of a semester abroad.

· This quick-fire blog may get me in bed before 9 to spend some quality time with my DVR

· On that DVR are two episodes of Breaking Bad

· Real Housewives of Beverly Hills gets a new housewife tonight, Brandi.

Those were in no particular order of importance, just how they traveled from my brain to the page. I will say I feel a bit better; headache is just a faint rumble in the background. Tomorrow is Tuesday, which is almost always better than Monday. If my memory serves me correctly, October 4^th is also the date I celebrated my Bat Mitzvah in 1975, thus I have been a Jewish woman for the last 36 years. At the time I had braces, was flat-chested, had not yet mastered my frizzy hair, and bought my dress in the 7 -14 department at Saks. Obviously, I have plenty to be thankful for tomorrow. Thanks for bearing with me through this little breakdown, and for working with me on the relaxed format of tonight’s entry (have to switch it up every now and then). It’s now 7:31 pm, with a quick edit or two; I will stay on schedule and put this headache of a day, to bed.

Happily Ever After

As you all know (if you’re keeping up on a daily basis), I went to a wedding last night. You may also remember it was for a cousin I hadn’t seen in a while and there was mention of an interesting guest list. In the spirit of repentance (it is that time of year for my people), I have to admit that I can be a bit judgmental(my kids may tell you that’s an understatement), but the reality is, my mouth often tells a very different story than my heart. I have certainly tempered myself in this journey, but those who spend more face-to-face time with me know that I am not shy about getting a laugh or two from snarky commentary. Last night’s event should have been ripe with opportunity for a “Jill-ism” or two, and yet it was all about acceptance and love, without judgment.

My cousin, the groom, is a few years younger than I am, but has lived a far more storied life than my own. I’m assuming he will read this (we are FB friends and he’s read before), but I’m not concerned I’ll say anything that either surprises or upsets him. For a nice Jewish boy that grew up in southern Connecticut, tattoos and piercings have covered a good deal of his flesh for most of his adult life. He is also a master of his craft, sought out for his expertise in piercing across the country. The average person, including me if I didn’t know better, might think he was a bit of a bad ass, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. I haven’t actually seen him in many years, for reasons that (a) don’t matter and (b) have nothing to do with the two of us, but one smile is all it took for me to know he’s the same sweet cousin I knew growing up. From the minute I got the invitation in the mail I knew I would be there, and from the second I found him on Facebook, I knew how much that meant to him. His bride, my new cousin, looked like a storybook princess. She’s got some artwork too, but all I saw was an angelic face and mesmerizing beauty. I’ve been to plenty of weddings, but this bride and groom were different (and not for the obvious reasons), they radiated love and happiness. I felt it. Jeffrey felt it. It seemed like the whole room was floating on their cloud.

The room told its own story, and again, not the one I would have thought. Here we had two families, both with potentially uptight Connecticut relatives mixing with varying degrees of tattoo coverage, piercings, pink hair, and body accessories (I’m sure there is a more technical term),and nobody cared. Sure it was fascinating from a strictly visual perspective and I wished I had asked more questions about some of the hardware I saw attached to noses and ears. It didn't make me want to run out to the Green Man (our local tattoo destination and my cousins former place of employment), I am deathly afraid of all needles, even a blood test. I will also admit that if one of my boys came home with some of this stuff I would have to take a very deep breath, but I know I would love them just the same. What I realized very quickly was that we were all the same; just people at a wedding celebrating a couple we love. I wasn’t judging them any more than they were judging me. My hair color, manicure and occasional Botox (like once a year, if that) are maybe just more socially acceptable forms of self-adornment. I've never stepped more than a little to the left of mainstream, always a bit too afraid to be judged I guess, and other than my attitude, I don't see that changing anytime soon. I arrived in my best suburban attempt at "edgy" with a leopard print dress, but I think it read more "Real Housewives" than anything else. I have to say, it takes a special kind of person to swim against the tide; I hope that in the future I will spend a little more time admiring that strength instead of questioning those choices.

Scenery aside, the best part of the night was hanging out with the rest of the family. The groom’s dad, who passed away a few years ago, was my mom’s first cousin. My mom is an only child and he was much more like a big brother to her growing up, thus we all spent a good deal of time together as kids. Life, family and geography made our visits much less frequent in recent years, but last night showed absolutely no evidence of a lapse in time. Surely, the kids got older (we, of course, did not), but that made it even more fun. My 14 going on 25-year old cousin feels like a new friend and her little brothers Bar-Mitzvah date is already on my calendar. I can say without question that there will be shopping trips and dinner plans soon.

I wish I took more pictures, and not for the reasons that you think. There were definitely some sights, but it was more about the big picture, all different and all the same. I’m surely facing more truths every day about who I am and who I want to be, and last night taught me a big lesson. I realized that a girl or boy I might have stared at or joked about last week could have been dancing next to me last night. I have never judged my cousin by what you see on the outside, it makes no difference to me. I’d like to believe that I learned to see everybody else's cousins the same way.

This wedding was special, this couple is special. When I told my cousin how beautiful his wife looked, he looked at me and said "she is beautiful in every way," and right then I knew, they would live happily ever after. 

The Girl Cousins

9:47

9:47 is both the exact moment I woke up this morning and the inspiration for this post. It has been a long time since I slept that late; even more incredible considering I was in my bed with the TV off at midnight, I was not overly intoxicated, and the most strenuous thing I did all Friday was clean my closet (although it was a monumental mess).

I haven't written since Wednesday; one would think my mental note pad would be full of things I needed to say, but this was not the case. I had considered wrapping up the last few days in a Rosh Hashanah post game show, but somehow I chose the path of righteousness and decided that the funny parts are better left unsaid and the spiritual parts are less interesting. I'll offer instead a few of my personal highlights and leave it at that for now; 2 dinners and 1 dessert with family and friends that I did not have to cook or clean, out the door for temple without a single fight ("temple tension" as it is named, covers all arguments preceding a synagogue visit, including: locating child's suit, where did you put the tickets, do I look fat in this dress?) , "bleacher seats" for the first half of the service and a move to the soft ones for the finish, a prayer whose name escapes me sung by a 19-year old congregant that brought me to tears (as it did last year), the 80+ year old man who has blown the shofar for as long as I remember, with the same red socks and the same powerful blast, and the feeling of belonging and community that brings me back year after year.

And so for an unusual change of pace,I was stumped; what would be interesting enough to warrant 1400 or more words? I opened my eyes, and like a message from the blog universe, it flashed before me, 9:47. Unlike my college children, and a select few grown ups I know, sleeping late is not a luxury I enjoy very often. In fact, I cannot remember the last time I spent this much uninterrupted time with my pillow. I clarify the continuity of the time period because staying in bed until 9:47 is not the same thing as sleeping until 9:47. There have unfortunately been many weekend mornings of extended bed hours which have followed torturous nights of waking every hour for a variety of reasons. In that case, late sleeping is really an attempt to recapture what was lost the night before, and it never really does. An evening spent listening to Jeffrey's nasal passage assault on the "sounds of silence," can never be repaired from a few lazy morning hours. There have also been a few "tossers and turners" from my own bad choices of too much food or too much alcohol, too close to bedtime, and there's always the wake up and "where's my child" night, followed by pacing and angry texting.

There are also the days I try and force the issue, waking up multiple times that I deem too early to rise and squeeze my eyes shut or put a pillow over my head in an attempt to block out the sounds and sunlight of morning. It almost never works and sometimes a doze here and there actually makes me feel worse. The "limbo sleep" is the worst of all, half-dreamy and half-awake, and often no clue which is which. I'm lying there, quite sure I am having a conversation or hearing the phone ring and suddenly I'm startled awake to realize what felt so real, did not really happen. I take a few minutes to sort out fact and fiction, attempting to find clues to confirm or deny the action, and start my day more than a little confused and still tired. In fact, just last week in Arizona where I spent most of the mornings fighting the effects of the time change and woke at 5 am daily, each time attempting varied tactics to return to dreamland. One particular day when I succeeded in add-on sleep (hotels have excellent black-out curtains), I jumped up an hour or so later absolutely sure that someone was attempting entry through the connecting door in my room ( just to clarify, I did not know,nor did I want to know, who was behind the mystery door). I was also fairly convinced that I had attempted to dial the front desk for assistance, but could not complete the call. I sat in the bed, waiting to hear the noise that had so frightened me, with one hand on the room phone and the other on my cell to alert Jeffrey I was in danger (I'm not sure what he was going to do from across the country, but I thought he would want to know). Nothing happened; I bravely stood by the offending door and heard nothing, the lock was still secure and I was safe in my room. I concluded that I had dreamed the whole thing, but it could not have felt more real, heart racing and sweaty to prove it. Very rarely a late sleep is the result of a late night; crawling in bed at 2 or 3 am (that's the part the happens so infrequently) and dozing till 10 is also not really a late sleep. Same overall hours as a regular night, merely a shift in the schedule. In addition, that kind of night usually involves too much of all the bad things, which generally results in a less than peaceful repose and a far from refreshed morning attitude. If we both decide to stay in bed .... skip that, "TMI" edit.

Last night's sleep was a category all it's own, those 9 hours and 47 minutes were pure restfulness. We had a great non-brisket dinner out with old friends who I have happily gotten to know so much better in the last year. Jeffrey had a long and stressful workday and needed more than one cocktail to lower his blood pressure, and I of course had the high intensity day of closet cleaning. We each chose our own poison, Jeffrey went straight for the Tanqueray martini (multiples) and I enjoyed the transition from an excellent mojito to a full-bodied red wine. Combine the liquid therapy with great food and atmosphere (Trumbull Kitchen, if you're nearby), easy conversation and lots of laughs and I wouldn't change a thing. I was so relaxed I skipped the coffee, didn't want to spoil the buzz (wasn't even taking a risk with decaf). A totally last minute plan, the perfect antidote to holiday food and fanfare, and apparently the exact combination needed for a winning nights sleep.

The only down side to my restfulness would be that it is now 12:14 pm and I am still drinking coffee at the island and blogging happily on my iPad(which began at 9:52 am in my bed). I have not yet motivated back upstairs to begin my day, which will require movement outside the house. I have a wedding at 5:30, a cousin and his family that I haven't seen in far too long, can't wait (with any luck you will get a colorful blog tomorrow). Between now and then I will have to get a pedicure, make sure Andrew has food for dinner, shower and dress, question my choices, dress again, go back to the first choice and be ready when I get picked up at 4:45. Did I mention that Jeffrey is "reffing," gone already for the day; all tasks including my wardrobe (already selected his which accompanied him to the locker room) will be completed without his help and he will meet me at the ceremony, hopefully on time. At the moment I am feeling well capable of handling the obstacles of the day, even with the limited hours available. If I play my cards right, I'm thinking I could actually have a repeat performance tomorrow morning, maybe I could even shoot for after 10? Then again, the event ahead involves an open bar, cousins who know how to party, a guest list that should be more than interesting (explanation later) and I am already in a good mood. This could be setting the stage for a night of "overdoing," a sleep of regret, and a long day of advil and black coffee. Either way, for now I am rested and ready for whichever path awaits.