Getting Married

Last night I attended a "Shidduch Network" meeting, shidduch meaning arranged dating. I know it was wrong but I tried to pawn my two eldest off on anyone who would listen, which wasn't anyone. I probably have to work on my technique.

The guest speaker was fascinating, discussing the proper ins and outs of dating. It's far more formal than I even imagined. All those women in my community (yes, I mean women - don't believe any husbands are stressing out about this) have worked so hard to get their children married to other religious children. I know it sounds strange, but the girls are usually at least 18 and the boys can range from 22 to 26 when the process begins. I'm just amazed.

Afterwards, I told my 16-year old about the meeting and before I could get into details, he raised his hand and said no way, he was choosing his own wife. Well, that isn't how it's done, initially. Yes, he will choose her, but I get to choose who he chooses.

Yikes. I don't think I'm ready for this. Thank G-d my first five are boys. They marry later.

When Friends Aren't Friends

In truth, I'm not the friendliest person around. I have hand-picked a few people that I really like and tend to stay close to them. But once you are my friend, I am very loyal, and stand by you through thick and thin.

Sometimes I make a mistake in choosing that person. I knew deep down that one person I let get close had some issues - but nothing had been done to me so I chose to give this person the benefit of the doubt. That was a mistake.

The same quality I have about loyalty goes the opposite direction as well. Once spurned, I don't forgive. It's just part of my nature. I'm not terribly proud of it, but I feel everyone gets one chance to piss me off, and depending on the gravity of the situation, we either remain friends or not.

Mind you, I have plenty of friends who I've fought with and remained close to. Being my friend doesn't mean agreeing with me. It means respecting me and treating me with respect. It's what I give in return.

So when someone comes along after many years of friendship and disrespects me, then I can't be friends with them anymore. It means I can't talk to them anymore. It means I can't trust them anymore.

Inhale. Exhale. Put one foot in front of the other and move forward. The sun will still shine. Night will follow day. It's all good.

Shout Out

I just want to give a shout out to my latest follower: welcome Munster. Great to have you on board (along with Mommy and Daddy). Me thinks this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship!

Spending Saturday Night

A dear friend of mine is in need of a loan to buy a car. It was suggested to her that she ask a wealthy local man who allows people to line up outside his door sundown on Saturday to request a donation. The place was mobbed.

We stood outside his home for about 15 minutes before being let inside to stand in the hall. Men and women were crowded together. It was so humiliating to be there, and I had to stop myself from convincing my friend to leave.

It took about an hour before it was our turn to beg for money. And my friend wasn't asking for a handout, just a loan. But she didn't get it - all she walked away with was one third of what she needed, with the promise to repay.

I left convinced that if I ever needed money that bad, I'd rob a bank.

Catching My Breath

Even though I should sleep in late, I can't. There's no way I can sit still. I've got tons of things to do: my thesis, prepare for my next internship, take my Diet Tech exam. It's not like resting for long is an option.

I have this silly dry erase board that I bought two years ago when I was in the throes of biochem. I used it to draw amino acid structures (don't I sound smart!) because my professor said we needed to know them.

We didn't, and all that drawing (and black ink on my hand) was kinda a waste. Now I use the board to plan out my day. I write down everything I need to do and usually actually do them. In fact, it reminds of all the things I need to do but forgot to write down and I do those as well.

It's raining here now, a light, California rain that makes you want to stay home but if you have to leave the house it's okay. The car, with you inside, won't be washed downstream of the local supermarket. It's tough being spoiled, but all we get here in Los Angeles is a little wet.

So I stayed home and worked on my stuff, shared some funny videos with my two eldest when they finally woke up this afternoon, and then ventured out for carpool. What a delightful day.

Taking The Call

I was at a beautiful wedding last night, surrounded by dear friends, laughing and eating and having a great time. But when I got the call, I never hesitated to answer the phone. Party or no party, when my dear friend M calls, she needs me.

When I answered, there was just the usual talking and party noise in the background. M asked if I was shopping (oh yeah, please!) but no, I told her I was at a wedding. Just then the music started. M offered to call back tomorrow, but I said no. Anyone calling my at 9:30 pm had something to say and I wanted to hear it.

Things for M had gotten difficult in one of her college courses, and she needed my advice. The professor had gone arbitrary on her - changing the grading scale for the worse. More people would fail than before, and there wasn't even a clue as to why this was happening.

We talked about it for about 20 minutes, trying to work out a strategy to deal with the problem, and ending up with M going to her graduate adviser to see if there could be any intervention with the Dean.

I got back to the party (which somehow seemed to go on just fine without me) and danced a bit more until my ride was ready to go. Truth is, it would have to be a true emergency for me not to take a friend's call. Especially M, who is brilliant, humble and ready to take on any task to help another person. Her energy is contagious. When I'm with her, I feel 20 years younger.

So there you have it. Friendship. One of G-d's greatest gifts.

Round One

Last Thursday, I finished my clinical rotation for the Registered Dietitian (RD) internship. OM gosh - talk about hard. I have often felt that my brain was fried out, that neurons had gone to their death in order that I could fill out a scan tron, but this, this internship, the first of three rotations and the only clinical one, was something completely different.

Four wonderful RDs were my preceptors, and each one had a different style of evaluating patients. Just so you know, a different style is great for clothing, but it's not so terrific if you're trying to figure out what everyone is doing and then do it yourself.

So I knew if I worked with one RD, I couldn't evaluate patients a certain way, but if I worked with another RD, that's how I was to do it. Sound like fun? Sound educational? Sound serial-killer?

But I survived. It's like most things: what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I actually hate that saying, but use it a lot because it's true. If you walk away from the challenge intact, you are a different person.

One day, all those styles will prove truly helpful in determining my own way to evaluate patients. Right now, it's kinda all mish-mashed in my head. Right now, time for some serious down-time. The worst, I believe, is over.

Now on to writing my thesis. Whoopee!