Decision Making For Dummies

It's been a long, hectic week at school. It doesn't take long before assignments get away from you, and the stress comes in deciding how to use time wisely. For example, I debated for days about whether I should attend a child obesity conference at USC this Friday.

The conference is slated for 9 am to 5 pm, and I'm way behind on my reading and note taking. All my friends advised not going. My lab instructor ordered me not to go, in the hopes I wouldn't be so cranky next week. And I felt that going would take valuable time away from relaxation, as Friday is my only day off.

So at 6:30 am this morning, I decided to abort attendance. I'm staying home. But I still had this nagging feeling that I was making a mistake. After all, I hadn't cancelled and maybe the organizers would be mad at me for taking a spot and not showing up. I kept thinking about this possibility all the way to my car as I prepared for carpool.

Low and behold, the car would not start. The battery was dead, as in sleeps with the fishes dead. I know I should have been sad (it means saying goodbye to $100 for a replacement), but I was relieved. I had made the right decision, and as proof, the decision was made for me.

What a relief. Always good to be reminded that G-d rules!

Spinning Wheels

I took a spinning class today at school. For those of you who are unfamiliar with spinning, and I view that as a gift, it's where a room full of people get on stationary bicycles with small seats the consistency of a rock and put pedal to the medal to music. Sounds like fun right? Maybe.

I say maybe because the pain hasn't kicked in yet. I know for a fact that my butt hurts, but I won't know the extent of the damage to my legs until tomorrow morning, when I try to get up and can't. I will then be reduced to throwing myself off the bed and crawling to the bathroom. I say this as a detached observer, kinda like a doctor looking at some one's x-ray and commenting of the advancement of the diseased state. What's in store for me is really quite that clear.

So why did I do it? For the same reason people climb Mt. Everest, sort of. Because it's there (and they have the money). For me, the class comes courtesy of my student fees, and I wanted to be with my friends. And more importantly, I want to lose weight and know, at my age, merely cutting back on the rations doesn't work.

So I threw myself into this amazing workout and survived. As a reward, I downed some chocolate mints with a cold water chaser. Feeling pretty good right now. I know I've got to give up something, and it won't be the spinning or the cold water. Or a good night's sleep.

Remembering the Holocaust Day

I admit it. I was drawn to attend today's Holocaust Remembrance Day in Pan Pacific Park, Los Angeles, because the Honorable Dan Gillerman was the keynote speaker. Frankly, I could listen to that man recite a recipe.

However, if I had known that it would take sitting through hours of speakers and singers (during the omer no less) before we could actually hear him, I would not have attended. G-d forbid we should forget the six million, but frankly, among Jews, there's no threat of that happening anytime soon.

I also feel that the sponsors of today's event (Los Angele Museum of the Holocaust) compete with the Museum of Tolerance for money and prestige, and therefore did not invite another of my favorite speakers, Rabbi Marvin Hier. So, in truth, I was bored, as was my guest, an old friend, and we both had a hard time remaining seated. Which only added to the guilt of my negative feelings when every time I got up, the row had to get up.

I am not the child of Holocaust survivors, but my husband is. He never attends these events. It's usually me, in large part because of my past fascination with the Holocaust. I've read countless books and watched endless videos much to my husband's distaste. He grew up with it as a fact of life.

My parents, on the other hand, admonished us never to forget, but I had no known relatives killed - my immediate family were already living in the States. My father fought in North Africa during WWII, and didn't have any horror stories to tell. Just your typical American Jewish family, barely Reform in observance, with plenty of the "other white meat" in the freezer.

In the end, Gillerman was worth the wait. He echoed the sentiments of all the previous speakers, including our Mayor (I didn't vote for him last time but I will this time - he's a hoot!). Iran's a problem, Israel the greatest salvation. And then he said a few lines that touched me. "If you want to know history, touch a stone. If you want to know the present, touch a flower. If you want to know the future, touch a child."

The greatest revenge against our murderers is not just living, Your Honor, but living as Jews. The next time you speak to a crowd of Jews as Jews, wear a kippah*. Remember that while Israel is important, terribly important, the One Above is the Boss. Not the IDF. The One Above protects us, THROUGH the IDF. Amen.

*Head covering worn by Jewish men to remind them that G-d is above them - aka yarmulka. Women are perfect - we don't need that kind of reminder about the Holy One.

Snuggle This

My family has been threatening me they would do it for quite some time. I begged them not to. It's a big step. It means accepting my age and/or taking up book reading as a hobby.

What am I talking about? Why the Snuggie I found gift wrapped on my bed when I came home today, of course. A bright red, flowing robe that stays open in the back but in the front has all the earmarks of Obie Won Kanobe, or a color-blind Franciscan friar. I was freaked out. Especially when they made me try it on.

In fact, I'm wearing it now. It's insidious, how the Snuggie makes itself at home on your body. One minute I'm crying about feeling like some old lady, and the next minute refusing to let the kids try it on. Hey, they know where they bought it. Let them get their own.

Truth is, I've really warmed up to the Snuggie. Hokey as the commercial is, it really works. Thanks kids, for thinking of mother. And special thanks to my husband, whose heavy hand I see in all this. No more walking around the house wrapped in pilloried old fleece blankets. I'll be cruising about in style.

When Even One Slice Is Too Much

Okay, I admit it. Staying up past midnight to eat the first pizza in eight days seems childish. It was my sons' idea to wait in line after Yom Tov (Passover) to order the pizza. It was my idea to eat 5 slices.

Yes, you read right. FIVE slices of pizza. Only the young can pull that off, or at least people with a functioning gastrointestinal system. How I suffered today for my folly! It was my first day back to school and I spent it running up and down the hallway between class and the ladies' room. I'm sure my professors thought I had a problem, and the truth is, I did. I still do.

And that problem isn't what we locals call Montezuma's revenge. The problem is the fact that the discomfort didn't stop me from eating two hot dogs with sauerkraut tonight, complimented with a side of oven-fried potatoes. Man, it was this side of heaven!

Yep, I'm in bed, actually feeling no pain. I've accepted my fate, which means I can relax and think about tomorrow. What will it be - kosher subway, or bagel and cream cheese? Who needs the stress - I'll have both!

Shopping Chol HaMoed

Okay, my bad. I've been so busy cleaning and studying that I didn't do any shopping for Pesach. My husband did. He's bigger and stronger.

So after this past Shabbath, the last day of Chol HaMoed (intermediate day of the holiday), I decided to venture out to the kosher market and pick up a few things.

I'm not sure what happened between Friday afternoon and this morning, but people in the kosher market were shopping like their lives depended on it. I mean, how else do you explain frantic attempts to fill up shopping carts with . . .anything.

Now the women do it more with style. They talk to each other or on the phone and are definitely more calm about it, more methodical. But the men - oh my gosh. What is it with them? They're lucky they didn't put someone's eye out. I don't think they knew what they were buying. Their shopping carts were overflowing and they were blocking aisles.

Pesach does something to people - it makes them crazy. Could it be a deep seated fear among Jews of starving, most likely due to previous experiences with starving? Granted, for most people who care, food options are severely restricted during this holiday.

So I encourage my people to take a deep breath, and repeat: there are only two days left. Two days to submarine sandwiches. Two days to pizza with toppings. Two days to whole wheat toast with low fat cream cheese. Just hold on.

Setting Goals

Well, it's started again. The anxiety. Night sweats. Binge eating. Yes, you guessed it. Spring quarter at Cal State LA.

Monday morning, it was great seeing all my classmates again. It had been nearly a week and a half since our last communal nervous breakdown, you know, that thing called finals. Good to see everyone had survived. But this quarter is going to be different.

How? Because a group of us will be exercising and losing weight. Got it all figured out. CSULA is the home to a state-of-the-art gym, brand new, free to students. Downside: no overnight lockers and only two showers. But the thought of losing 30 pounds is so inviting, I can put up with the inconvenience. Oh my gosh, to be thin again.

Okay, I'm probably getting ahead of myself. Kinda like the women's magazines advertising how to look great in a bikini in one week. Not that they make bikinis my size anymore, but I have a goal. My goal is to lose weight. Another is to get straight A's in my classes.

Then there's world peace. Definitely gonna happen. Just wondering if world peace might be more achievable. . .