Anxiety returning

because my stomach can't take anymore Kefir, and I have to get my financial records together for the lawyer, and so I'm in thinking-about-divorce mode again, and I am crazy busy at work, and busy packing up to move, and not sure if I'm happy about the move, and nervous what if the house sells tomorrow, and really fed up with the old place, and had a crazy stressful "vacation" the beginning of this week, and I don't know what I will do in 2 weeks when wasband is back at work, but kids don't have camp or school, and something else I can't remember...
did I say before I don't like lists?  I guess I meant that I don't like making them for myself.

I have been meaning to get a hair cut for several months, but never found a chance, since I can't just go down the street to the "Hair Cuttery".  My hair was so long and thick, it was becoming cumbersome, snarly and hot in my terribly humid apartment.  When we came home from the beach this week,  I had this mass of stringy, hot hair that wouldn't let me sleep.  So I pulled out the shears and, hack hack, took off 6-8 inches.  It's still long, just past my shoulders, but the reduction is such a relief.  I wish there was something so easy, quick, cheap and side-effect-free that I could do to lighten my anxiety.

Non-sequitur: Here is an adorable picture...I want one:

The sweet little things

Last month when I was in the radiology waiting room, I saw an older couple on their way out.  As they went out the door, they clasped hands.  I have no idea what their story is, saw no particular expression on their face;  I just appreciated their connection.  I noticed a different older couple yesterday, coming up from the parking garage at my work (a different hospital), holding hands as they walked to the lobby.  So sweet.  I remember you, HR-S, holding hands with B, as you pushed the baby stroller into the subway.  So sweet.  I cannot reconcile the idea that frum marrieds need to avoid all public physical contact.  Maybe if there is enough verbal- or other nonphysical- support, maybe.

Last Wednesday, I was babysitting for friends, while the husband was at the Siyum Hashas.  I heard him leave a message on the machine, just "Hi H****, I wanted you to know I arrived safely.  I'll try to call you tonight.  Love you."  So sweet.

This is goodness.  If you have it, don't take it for granted.  If you are not doing it - wake up, and don't take it for granted.

This wasn't at all the Rockwell print I was trying to find, but it is good.  Another little thing I remember -when you, NLS, told J he need to dress more warmly, and fixed his collar and put a scarf (or hat or something) on him. Sweet.

So...what happened

Quick update for those of you who want to know details of my life - and a short composition on my point of view of death:

Wasband furious about "stuff acquisition", back to square one vis amicable relations.
One son very angry, his extreme reaction sends me into deep depression.  Since then, some outside intervention, things getting somewhat better, but still very cold.
Working hard to move stuff to great new place lifts my spirits a bit.
Get news that great new place looks to be unavailable.  Back into depression, anger and frustration that G-d teased me with this.
Current place becoming less and less attractive as owners prepare to sell it.
Looking for new apartment in old neighborhood. Everything is more expensive than I can really afford, but I don't think I can do another year of camping in the living room of a 1-bedroom apt.

So yeah, this summer is shaping up as nicely as last.

No, not true, I am still not chronically suicidal as in those years with the wasband, so that must be better.  And I still get some euphoric moments.  But mostly, I'm not so happy about life, don't have a great desire to keep going.

I think about this when I am at a certain class I frequent, on the topic of bitachon and emunah = belief and trust in G-d.  I don't particularly want to get into the subject of the class, just my reaction to the constant inevitable comment that one should be thankful "at least he is still alive", the assertion of other attendees that everyone would agree death is the worst outcome.  For me, that idea is only theoretic - I try to believe that it is advantageous for me to live so that I can have more chance to fulfill more commandments, therefore every single moment of life is precious. And I want to survive so that my children are not hurt.  But not because of any self-focused desire to live.  And it must be this same way for many people, that dieing is far from the worse possible thing.  The teacher from another class I used to attend on "Ethics of the Fathers" used to tell us his Rav would often ask his class, "How long do you want to live?" "'Til one hundred twenty," the students would all chime.  "Then you are foolish," the Rav would respond, "do you know how debilitated you would be, how much pain you would have? Look to live a good long life, but not THAT long."  I also use this line of thinking as a defense mechanism against my own horror when hearing about others being killed, etc:  well they died, and I hope they didn't suffer in the process, but being dead doesn't have to be all that bad.  If it was G-d's will, then how can one even claim it to be a missed opportunity to experience this live on Earth? 

Oh another thing that was going on - mammogram showed "suspicious spot", as has happped past few years.  I go for follow up, but don't really care all that much because 1) this is the third time in several years, fourth time in my life that a lump and/or x-ray spot turned out to be cyst, 2) see above.  But because I am me, what shakes me is the question "Can it be right for the doctors to insist on all the extra x-rays, given how high the radiation dose is per mammogram, and the overwhelming evidence that this is another cyst?  Isn't the risk from all this extra radiation likely to catch up with me before the natural course of my own body?  Who will take this question seriously?"  Now, if I don't care, then why do I care?????

That's all - not too insightful.  Like I said, just an update on what's happening in SW's world.

Not Very Original

I started out wanting to write a post about yet another (tiny) epiphany: good potato knishes are reeeeealllly good.  I wanted to link to the Episode of Welcome Back Kotter:  Sweathog Clinic for the Cure of Smoking (for which I unfortunately can find no free link).

Mr. Kotter tells the cigarette addicted Epstein of his own former addiction: junk food, specifically potato knishes. 
If you google "Kotter knish", you will get many hits to sites about the knish which refer to the Welcome Back Kotter episode.  So I am not the only one who remembers this show.  It made me think about a book the wasband liked to quote, something like "The Jewish Comic Steryotype in American Media," which proposed that in American films and TV (in the 1960's and 1970's, when this book was published), a Jewish feature is by default comic.  And he brings very compelling examples, especially Jews on interview shows (Dick Cavett, Merv Griffin, Johnny Carson type shows) where the interviewee mentions something Jewish, but not obvious or intentionally funny at all, but the audience laughs, assuming a joke is being set up.  The theory, I think, was that this reaction was the result of a media culture in which all scripted reference to Jews = Comic.  Not much to add to this, except to say I agree, the idea of addiction to knishes is funny in a way that would not work with canollis, burritos, or even egg-rolls  (maybe souvlaki, a la Mad About You; not a Jewish food, but a food mention on a Jewish show.  Now that I think about it, what is Khlav Khalsh in the Simpsons - did they have to make up an arabic-sounded food to be funny there?  is this based on a real food?  if so, I couldn't find it.  looks like swarma to me).

Okay, prepare to shift gears as I go into the revised subject: How is it that there seems to be substantial Kotter - knish association, but I'm not seeing the most obvious, hysterical association with the current olympic chocolate milk ads?  Legit chocolate milk ads look like a complete satire of old John Belushi "Little Chocolate Doughnut" skit!  I was in the laundro-mat when I first saw this commercial, and I BUST OUT LAUGHING.  I looked around, and couldn't figure out why everyone else wasn't laughing along as well.  Didn't anyone watch the first cast of SNL!?!

 Please, please compare this chocolate milk ad  
with this classic skit with John Belushi .

And BTW, who else remembers those old TV ads that ended by telling you they were brought to you by "The Mid-Atlantic Milk Marketic Association"?  I barely remember the commercials, one was " Glorious Cheese" to the tune of Glorious Food from Oliver.  But I will never forget that great name, the Mid-Atlantic Milk Marketing Assoc.  I couldn't find who sponsered the chocolate milk ads, not that I looked all that hard.  But I obviously have my suspicions...


Anyway, back to my original blog concept:  My memory of Gabe (Kotter) Kaplan recalling his addiction the the potato knish.  But the thing is, when I saw the show, I didn't think of a knish as junk food.  I didn't find them particularly appealing.  Somehow, all the knishes I have had were either of the frozen-food variety, or really bad pizza-dive-knishes made with pizza dough.  These are always overly chewy and and dry, bland inside and out.
Since moving to the new neighborhood, I have discovered the local bakery's knishes. BANG! what a difference, now I get it.  These are strudel-dough outside with obviously home-made filling.  They are greasy and salty and spicy and DELICIOUS.  They often give me heartburn, and they are obviously so high in calories, and I can't stop eating them, they are so good.  Yum, knish.

Summer Collage

On the way to work, I pass a public pool in a little public park.  It is a very cute place, and very inviting, as public pools go.  I was late out to work today, and I saw a sizable group of teenagers milling about, waiting to get in.  It reminded me of when I was a teenager spending all and every day of summer at the pool.  We lived in a large apartment complex, with a nice pool.  I would wake up, a little later every day, call over to my best friend, pack some lunch, playing cards, a towel, and head out to the pool.  Aahh.  That is summer. 

This is a great memory.  But an even better memory is the annual trip to the beach.  My parents like to go the same place every year, on the Delaware shore.  The years are all blurred together, but I remember riding the waves and playing putt-putt with my cousin, flying kites, glow sticks (before you could get them in every Dollar Store), the smell of newly pressed iron-ons on new T-shirts and jerseys, pizza and cheese subs, playing cards on the hotel room balcony, riding bikes on the boardwalk, book outlets, shell necklaces, fresh peaches from farm stands, the smell of the ocean... That is heaven.

I hope to get to the beach this summer.  I don't think I'm taking any kind of vacation this summer ("vacation"????? I think I vaguely remember what that word means), mostly I'm moving stuff around.  I'm moving, did I mention that?  I am moving from one house that is on sale to a second house that is on sale.  I feel like that should be a metaphor for something, but I'm not sure what. 

I have gone to a couple "garage sales", saw a lot of thing I might have gotten, except for the thought "I will be on the move again soon.  Do I really want more stuff to shlep?"  I plan to make do for a while longer with minimum.  It will be so nice to have PLENTY of space for everything I have now.

I am at the library tonight, and I want to look around.  This is just a composite of things that were floating around my head.  Maybe I will edit it more tomorrow -- find the obvious Calvin Hobbes that belongs to the paragraph above.

I love snow, babies, my new shoes.  But summer is good too.

This is as soon as possible

I was sick for four days, and that has not happened in a while.  Now I have to deal with a fast, no air-conditioning in 100 degree weather, and back pain from lying in bed so long.  Plus a mound of laundry, and all that backlog at work.  But this all takes a back-seat to the important things on my mind - the terrible reaction to me taking back my stuff 11 days ago.  Could it only have been 11 days ago? 

So here is just a little snippet to keep you amused, a great little quote from a friend the other day, even better because he is quite Republican : "What can you say about this weather?  Either it's global warming, or it's Obama's fault."

But if you are such a person, please daven for me, I am quite desperate.

the former post was retracted, since I got the slap I needed.
will update as soon as possible.