Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Chosson update

After speaking on the phone, we decided to exchange emails since there's a fairly significant time difference. Over the first 24 hours, we've written four times. Not too shabby. In his last email, he asked THE question - why did you convert? Ok, it was technically his third communication overture to me. I suppose that the third time I spoke to someone on the phone, I would reasonably expect to answer that question (nevermind that I didn't take it from the Midwesterner who had sent me about a gazillion emails by that point).

In any case, I decided to go for the gusto - he got a more complete (and I hope more well-written) response than I would usually give. It was long, though. So far, no response. It takes time and thought to respond to a mulit-page email, though, so I'll wait it out.

I seem to be in a good-karma place the past few days (not sure what I did to deserve it). I found out yesterday that my roommate is moving out, got all that great stuff about Maine, had a delightful conversation with the aforementioned male, then, I turned on the TV and what is NBC showing? The Eagles Farewell Live tour. I almost fell out of my chair.

When I was in college, the Eagles were touring for the first time since I'd been a fan. I so badly wanted to go see the Hell Freezes Over tour. Sadly, my boyfriend couldn't afford the $100 tickets, so he bought me the album instead. Nevertheless, having Joe Walsh and the gang beamed into my living room as the sun was setting was the perfect finale to a nearly perfect day.

On top of it all, the kids at school are behaving quite nicely and my pseudo-favorite from last year finally came to say hello (he'd been mostly avoiding me since I knew he'd been a jerk to one of my other pseudo-favorites from last year). Yep, good karma.

I'm going to go daven.

Sunday, August 28, 2005

I think I've found him.

My soulmate called tonight.

It was cool and cloudy where he lives today so he spent the day tending his vegetable patch.

We talked about Jewish life in out-of-the-way places. He listened to me obsess about Maine and seemed genuinely pleased to do so.

I was cute and funny and asked good questions to get him to talk about himself.

We hung up because he had to feed his dog (she was barking insistently in the background).

M.H., I'm afraid I've already revealed too much on this blog and that anyone who knows him would already recognize him, but I will tell you that he's getting a doctoral degree in something very groovy.

(huge grin)

I think I've found it.

I've become obsessed with Maine.

I just finished reading The Secret Life of Lobsters by Trevor Corson. I normally flee from reading anything that falls under the label 'non-fiction', but after hearing an interview with Corson on NPR's Diane Rehm Show and falling in love with coastal Maine after visiting a few weeks ago, I had to read it.

I highly recommend this book if you have any interest in either life in coastal Maine, lobsters, or wildlife conservation. Corson writes interestingly and intelligently. The book fed my newest addiction quite nicely.

Point? I was websurfing motzei Shabbos and typed "Jewish Maine" into the Google search box. The second hit was for a shul claiming that Bangor, Maine is "the USA's most northeast Orthodox Jewish Community".

Bangor is a small city of approximately 32,000. It's is a stone's throw from both Acadia National Park and Baxter State Park, home of Mt. Katahdin, terminus of the legendary Appalachian Trail.

Today, I was poking around a little more after returning from a trip to the park with the Stinky Dog. Let me tell you, folks, it only gets better. I surfed to the website of the Bangor Daily News and saw that this weekend the Bangor waterfront played host to the
American Folk Festival.

Wilderness, frummies, and a folk festival? Somebody pinch me.

I won't tell you what nearly happened to me when I read this. Suffice to say, it involved heavy breathing and a racing pulse.

Oh Chosson, my Chosson, wherever you are, we are moving to Maine.

Anyone out there know anything about the Bangor community?

Thursday, August 25, 2005

School Rant

School started yesterday. I'm exhausted. I went to bed at 9:30 last night and still slept through my alarm this morning (thank goodness not long enough to make me late for work). Ugh.

It's easy to forget over the summer how mentally taxing it is to run a classroom. Especially the first few weeks of school when the kids are testing to see how much they can get away with. This particular class has a bit of a reputation as lazy and obnoxious. Joy.

Things were better today than yesterday, however. I think I know all 60 of their names. It will take a while to firmly implant in their heads that we, in fact, are in charge - not them.

I know I sound like an ogre - I felt a little like one yesterday, too.

The bright spot in my day? Dozens of last years students screaming their heads off when our (my teaching partner and my) pictures were shown during the start-of-school assembly. I've gotten dozens of hugs and high-fives in the halls this week. I miss them all terribly and wish we could pick up where we left off in June.

The question that runs through my brain: can we turn this year's class into a similar type of cohesive unit or will we struggle every day? It took until October last year to bond with the students in a meaningful way. It's actually an interesting story, but I'm too tired to tell it. Maybe next time.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

Even a blind squirrel gets the acorn once in awhile

Remember the poet-gardener who moved away from the city because he needed to be near the outdoors? My soulmate?

He said yes.

I suppose he'll call sometime soon. Until then, I'm off to Google-stalk him.

Speaking of Google-stalking - doesn anyone else do this to potential dates?

I feel a little guilty knowing that I'm virtually impossible to Google-stalk. Even if you know my middle name, my English first and last names are among the most common in North America. In the teeny-tiny hospital where I was born, there was another baby born a few days before me with the exact same name. Not kidding.

Safety in banality, I suppose.

Monday, August 22, 2005

Blog-spammed

Just a short note to apologize to anyone who normally comments anonymously... This morning I woke up to 10 new comments attached to my previous post - none of which were on topic and all of which were selling something or another. So, I changed my commenting options. I'd still love to hear from those with legitimate, on-issue comments, but you'll have to log in now.

In the mean time, here's a lovely picture to look at from my trip to Mackinac Island this spring.


Saturday, August 20, 2005

Chosson hunt continues

Here's the down-and-dirty update:

After I got rid of Eeyore, I somehow was dumped by the New Yorker. Neither I nor M.H. quite knows what happened. I sent him a very harmless email and never heard from him again. Maybe he just got 'busy' (for you non-frummies, it means perhaps he's dating someone else). Fine.

Then, M.H. found another round of guys on SYAS. They all sound sweet, but one stood out. He's from the Northwest - he moved out there so he could be closer to outdoorsy pursuits. He writes poetry and loves his garden. He likes to travel and get to know the people who live there. My soulmate? Quite possibly.

So, what's the hangup? I accepted the suggestion immediately figuring that M.H. had run it by him before mentioning it to me (as she usually does). When I logged on tonight, I saw that the match had only been approved by me (it would say 'approved by both' if he had gotten it first). Disclaimer: this is not an indictment of M.H. She works very hard trying to get all of us lonely souls married off. I suspect that this guy has stipulated in his profile that he wants the woman to be asked first. Chaval for me.

Now, I'm steeling myself for the disappointment. I really don't think I've set my ideals too high. For all that I go on about what type of guy I want, I'm describing a mentsch. I'm a little hung up on not wanting to live in or near NYC, but other than that I just want a garden-variety nice, smart guy.

I have a friend who has been setting her sights a little high (if I can say so without throwing stones at my own glass house). She is as average looking as the rest of us, though she truly has a sparkling personality and is very warm and charming. Nevertheless, she persists in wanting to be set up with hunky doctors and lawyers. They always turn her down. It's hard to see her disappointed time after time, but I worry that saying something to her would cause irreversible damage to her self-esteem, to say nothing of our friendship. I'm 99% sure she doesn't read this blog, so I feel comfortable asking your opinion on this matter. To speak or not to speak?

My PG Blog

I've been blog-surfing tonight. Outside of the frum world (and even inside), I found some blogs that are very edgy. People are living lives out there that make mine seem like Camelot. I feel right now like the girls in high school who still pegged their jeans and wore Winnie-the-Pooh oversized sweatshirts and bubble-gum flavored lipgloss.

Not that I aspire to writing about hangovers and one-night stands. I guess I'm used to an edgier reputation - I'm the only person in my social group who can use the f-word eight times in a single sentence (and do, if provoked). Yet, I have, quite happily, created a cotton candy world for myself both at home and here in the blogosphere. Fuck.

In some small and mostly insignificant way, I'm jealous of these drama queen bloggers who live life in the fast lane and then blog about it so eloquently to a readership of thousands.

Ah well, there is virtue in being virtuous.

Friday, August 19, 2005

Amazing Maine

I was struck by how much New England (Maine included) looks like Northern Michigan. Each place we traveled to had a slightly different feel (Massachusetts felt a lot like Europe), but geographically, they were nearly identical.

Maine, for example, has this whole culture of lobster fishing. At the campground where we stayed, you could order a lobster in the morning from the proprietor (caught in his own traps) for your supper that evening.

Northern Michigan definitely has a whole fresh-fish thing, but I don't know anyone who catches commercially. Nearly everywhere we drove in coastal Maine, lobster traps lay stacked in yards of normal-looking homes. Yet, whitefish and perch in Northern Michigan restaurants are as ubiquitous as lobster are in Maine restaurants.

Anyway, here are a few photo highlights from the trip:

The lighthouse at Cape Newaygen, Boothbay Harbor, Maine.





Dinghies at the dock.






Lobster traps in a yard on Southport Island.





The Stinky Dog waiting in line for Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream in Freeport, Maine (home of the L.L. Bean Flagship store).




A field of sunflowers against the Green Mountains outside Shaw's Grocery in Stowe, Vermont.


Come and Gone

What, you ask?

Why, my birthday, of course. At the stroke of 8:24 p.m. on Thursday, August 18, I turned 30. Now, my Hebrew birthday (11 Elul) isn't until September... We hold on to what we still have, I guess.

In any case, thirty doesn't feel so different than twenty-nine (surprise, surprise).

The trip was truly delightful. I discovered two things:

1) There are no kosher restaurants anywhere I want to be.
2) I don't want to be anywhere where there are kosher restaurants (on vacation, at least).

We camped in Harold Parker State Forest after walking the entire Freedom Trail in Boston. We set up the tent and decided to hunt for something to eat. Neither of us wanted to drive all the way back to Brookline and deal with Boston traffic again. We did find a kosher deli in Peabody. The man was very nice - he even offered to pack us up a picnic to go of chicken and potato salad. I really just wanted to sit and be waited on. Ugh.

Then we went to Maine. Maine deserves its very own entry complete with pictures. Two words: oceanfront camping. Wow.

Ok, it's way too late. We drove all the way from Vermont today. I need to go to bed, but I'm still caffeinated from our Tim Horton's trip in Niagara.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Done

So I spoke with M.H., shadchan to the stars, today. After much careful consideration and a lot of whining and complaining (on my part), she said, "Maybe you shouldn't go out with him (Eeyore)." She further explained how she hadn't been particularly enamored with him when she spoke on the phone with him, either. We agreed that I would put my hishtadlus-energy into something else (chosson-shopping, anyone?).

(Huge sigh of relief).

How did I get here?

Work on my book has utterly stalled. I began this project in February with a great amount of enthusiasm - the first three chapters pretty much wrote themselves. Since then, however (and I'm now on Chapter 12 - 68 pages into the book) it has been like trudging through an enormous snowbank. I can see glimpses of the image, but I'm not 'in the moment' - living, breathing, feeling what the main character is feeling. Nevertheless, I shoveled on - gaining some ground, but not any inspiration for where the story is going to go.

Today, I took several hours to look at photographs online of locations that likely ressembled my invented land. A few minutes ago, I had a breakthrough. I've been trying to tell too much of the story too quickly. For goodness sake, I've written 68 pages and the real journey hasn't even started yet! So, I'm going back to that third chapter to pick up the thread from there. I won't throw out the rest - it may appear in book two or at the end of book one. We'll see.

Why am I telling you this? Because it's on my mind and has pleasantly distracted me from thinking about my pending date with Eeyore.

So here's the big shaila of the day. Am I a huge bitch or he is acting really desperate?

Here's the situation:
After our sad and sorry conversation on Sunday where I played shrink (He asked me the absolutely off-limits question of a first phone call - why did you convert?. So, I shot back with an equally personal and probing question of my own that got him worked into such a frenzy I had to talk him down.), he called me Monday morning. I don't answer the phone during my morning writing block, so he left a voicemail. He called again Monday afternoon. Monday evening, I sent an email saying that I needed to sort through some details before we made plans to meet.

He called again yesterday - first my home phone, then my cell phone. I was in the bookstore and had my phone turned off. I did call him back when I was done, however. The whole conversation irritated me. He kepts suggesting places to meet and I kept saying "I know nothing about Boston. I have no idea where you're talking about." Finally, I asked him to pick a place and send me an email with the exact directions. He started exaplaining to me exactly how to get there. "Look,"I said, "I'm in the car and can't write anything down. I'll never remember what you're telling me!" He agreed to send an email. I closed the conversation as quickly as possible.

So, this has turned into a hishtadlus date. I'm going on a vacation that I have dreamed about for years and the first day has turned into a major stressor. Shit.

Am I just being cranky and issue-avoidant or am I right to be irritated by all this?

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Avoidance

As they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder...

I have so much to tell you - where to begin?

I'm going in to school tomorrow to put the room in order. Sigh. I really am ready to go back. This year promises a whole boat-load of new responsibilties, though. Not only am I the union rep for our building, but I also am heir-apparent to the big seventh grade field trip. Sigh. Me, who so likes simplicity and who is SO lazy. Sigh.

Remember the two SYAS prospects that M.H. sent my way? Here's the update.

The New Yorker is, I believe, working on coming here so we can go out (or so he said. Twice). He moved this past weekend, so I'm cutting him some slack.

Eeyore (formerly Dr. Math). Yes, everyone's favorite pessimistic donkey is on the shidduch scene. We had one conversation that was a little disturbing. Nevertheless, I was willing to believe that he was just having a bad day and I agreed to talk on the phone with him again this week. Then, we discovered that we're both going to be in the same part of the country next week and he suggested we go out. Might as well.

As I mentioned, I'm going on a last-week-of-summer whirlwind roadtrip next week. The itinerary is shaping up nicely. Stinky Dog, myself, and one of our favorite traveling companions are taking New England by storm:

Monday: Boston and the Freedom Trail
Tuesday: Salem, Lexington & Concord; Portland, ME
Wednesday: Central VT and folk/rock concert
Thursday: Fort Ticonderoga and Niagara Falls
Friday: Home in time for Shabbos!

Now, for several hundred unofficial coolness points, anyone want to guess what I teach in school (give as much detail as you can)?

I'll try to blog from the road if at all possible. Seeing as how I'm somewhat of an outdoorsy type, we're rustic camping the whole trip (except for the showers and public restrooms in the state parks, that is...).

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Advice

I suppose I'm just in an advice-giving mood today. Have you ever had a day where you feel, if not precisely on-top-of-the-world, then at least Supremely Competent? Today is that day.

I rose early this morning to begin cooking, baking, and cleaning out my grandmother's refrigerator. Ten hours later, I had made a kick-butt BBQ glaze, corn bread, potato salad, a blueberry-peach pie, and chocolate chip cookies! In between all this, I conducted several different conversations online and managed to swim a few laps around the raft before my aunt and uncle arrived.

I know. I'm easily entertained.

Speaking of, this brings me to the advice section of our column this evening:

If you are filling out a SYAS or Frumster profile and they ask you to list your hobbies, do not UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES list your hobbies as 'watching DVDs and playing video/online games'.

Many of us watch DVDs. Some of us (mostly males?) play video games, etc. EVERYONE can manage to find something better to do with themselves, especially on paper. If not, make something up. The Tailor used to have 'Rodeo Clowning' under 'Hobbies' on his Frumster profile. Problems arose when hapless women took him seriously.

Anyway, just some helpful hints from your friends here at Chosson Hunt.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

The Beastie

Thought you might enjoy a cute picture of the Stinky Dog having her afternoon nap: