Didn't mean to go here..same old, same old

Okay, here is one of my ugly big secrets...I find no joy in any Jewish holidays.  Or any secular holidays, or any any-holidays for that matter.  But It is the dull thud of the Jewish holidays that carries, in addition to the depression, the fear of stigma.  It's like a grade school child, who raises no eyebrows for saying "I hate math," but can't admit "I hate recess," without being labeled 'odd'.  (BTW, guess which way I went in grade-school.)

This all comes down to my same old rant:  as a child, I saw what all my friends had that I did not, comforted myself with the assurance "You will make it so for yourself and your children when YOU are the parent," and I did not live up to my own expectations.

I have been trying for the past few years to make a small party of friends on Chanukkah, since there isn't any family close enough to be willing to schelp out to my (our) tiny place for one night.  I don't even know if there will be occasion for that little party this year.  We will see.  I have so much catch-up to do at work, and I missed my oppurtunity to do laundry last night, since I had to wait until shabbos was over to light candles, and then to sit with the chanukkah candles, and by then, it was unlikely I could make the cut-off for 'last loads' at the laundry-mat.  On the upside, I did have a very fun time playing Scribblish

with friends (great game for a mix of adults and kids of reading age!) And today I have another party with friends, and a party at the shul I miiiight go to (mainly for the Chinese buffet).  So I'm not just dumping and saying to hell with it.  But honestly, the feeling of 'gratitude and joy for the miracles of long ago' is just not there.  I would rather have the time to fix up my graphs at work, and paint my kitchen, instead of sitting by the menorah.

I have been thinking about a young woman I ran into last week.  I used to see her fairly often, walking with her husband around the neighborhood.  "I haven't seen you for awhile," I said, assuming this was true because I had been out of the neighborhood for the past year.
"No, I haven't been around, I moved back with my parents."
Oh...So, I am trying to make benign sympathetic small talk, while she tells me all her circumstances.  And she tells me, among the rest "I have decided not to be orthodox for now."
Now, this is a very young woman, and I will give her some slack in the semantics of her statement, and the apparent depth of thought, so I am no longer considering her case in the post.  But for MYSELF, the concept of "deciding" not to be orthodox seems hollow.  Deciding not to "act" orthodox is a clear deal, with several obvious reasons; the two biggest being:
1) you don't believe the orthodox vision life, the universe, and everythign to be true, or
2) even though you do believe orthodox Judaism to be correct, you don't want to follow the laws.
I know, I know these are huge categories.  And included in the first would be the person, who just never thinks deeply about it at all, people who think that all branches of major religions have got it wrong, etc, etc, etc.  Right now, I hope that I am still following the laws properly, and not going slack.  I am occasionally into the first group, maybe often, when I look at the state of Orthodox Judaism of the 21st century.  But I remember a sermon given by Rb. Ilon Feldman, many years ago.  I can't remember anything, except the conclusion: "Many people rationalize  'well, I believe in God and torah, but I just can't follow all the commandments, that's not me.'  So what will be, when you fianlly go to heaven after 120 years?   The ministering angles will ask 'Did you keep the torah commandments?'
'No.'
'And why not?'
'Because that is not who I was.  I was a sinner.'  Is this the answer you want to give?"

Okay, as I keep saying, I'm not a good orator, so it comes out sounding shallow and flimsy.  But to me, it is powerful.  Anyway, I keep slogging along, because I really do believe it is the right thing to do, and somehow is fulfilling SOMETHING good for me and the universe, and really I want to please God the way one wants to please a friend or parent or some other allegory, but still the connection feels very slack.

Okay, I gotta get back to my laundry.