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Honey is Sweet What a life - 2006-06-17 Megret (my multiple Michigan friend) left a phone message which damn near told me not to call back. She will call when she can. So I called her. She feels the need to control every aspect of our communications - when we talk (or email) and how, what we talk about, how long we are in contact, who speaks for how long (none of this 'dialogue' stuff). Cool. I don't have to go along with it though, especially as she never asked me and I never agreed. So now that we have that settled... I miss having someone I can call at almost any time - even though she often didn't answer the phone, or was wacko when she did. I miss the occasional times I could just spew whatever it was inside of me (usually a grody flashback, since she's not too good at just feelings), and have someone to listen and care, maybe even understand. Although I could never be absolutely certain of that. I miss it, but I think I recognize this as one of the many changes taking place in my life these days with relationships changing, people dying or otherwise not being a part of my life any longer, kids growing up and moving on, grandbabies being born, all that stuff. Life changes. Sometimes suddenly in a lot of different ways. The woman I was working with on writing my life story is consumed with the abuse in my childhood. I don't particularly want to talk about that very much. I want to be able to establish that it was there, and that I was not socialized to this outside world, where people still are constantly doing and saying things that utterly confound me. And then I want to talk about the rest of it. What my life used to be like, what happened, what it is like now. I think the 'what happened' is more important than the details of the horror that was my childhood. What changed, how I got out of that life, what happened next, where I learned to be a human among human beings. And all the many adventures I've had since, too. I don't seem to have been destined for a quiet, stay-at-home kind of life, for all I managed to have something like for about a decade. And that was wonderful. It doesn't seem that I am destined to have the kind of life again. Not from where I am sitting right now. Of course, Hashem can change everything. But... So, I jump around a lot here, but a lot of different thoughts are bubbling through my head (something seems to have jogged loose that was stuck). The next thing I think of is how much I want to get out of this neighborhood. The anglo-dati ghetto. It's funny/odd how if I am put in the middle of a religious neighborhood it makes me *less* likely to be observant. Less willing. It's harder in some ways to be observant (shomer shabbos, and dressing modestly really are the only things in question here) in a secular neighborhood, but that is nothing to the rebellion that I have going on in this place where they are all observant. To a degree I would never reach - nor do I agree that what they do is what the laws are all about. I've said it many times that too much attention to clothing is idolatry - whether it's going out half-dressed according to the latest fashions, or judging people by whether or not their shirt sleeves actually cover their elbows. Well, when I was in NYC, picking up a couple of suitcases for a man who lives here, his sister gave me the *look.* If you've ever gotten it you know exactly what I'm talking about. If you haven't, count yourself lucky. She literally looked me up and down and then said in a voice of incredulity "YOU, live in Ginot Shomron?" It was almost 100F that day, over 90% humidity, and I had worn a sleeveless t-shirt and had no hat on my head. I don't do well being judged that way. Especially as I generally do dress more appropriately - long sleeves, hat, more often than not a skirt rather than pants. It makes me want to tear off all my pants legs, and go out in short-short cut-offs, bra-free, a button-down shirt tied up under my breasts and my hair hanging freely. And dance around with my thumbs in my ears going 'nyah, nyah!' Yeah, I know, I'm so grown-up. I have to get out of this neighborhood. John has a telephone interview with some company in Morristown, NJ, where they want someone who knows Cybertec. That's John. If it works out, he could be flying over to the U.S. in a month. Hopefully having managed to buy us a van before he leaves. I don't relish the thought of being vehicle-free here - although if we are not tied to his work schedule, taking the buses becomes way more doable for all of us. Except Havva. *sigh* She needs to get out of this neighborhood, too. She has plans, if John gets the job in the states, to apply to the navy for an apartment in Tel Aviv. That would work really well, honestly. I hope it's possible. My kids are having all kinds of problems with their teeth. As am I, as is John, actually. In the kids' cases, it is because they have inherited John's family trait of very large teeth in a rather small jaw. So the teeth get crooked and sometimes it hurts, and there just isn't room for the teeth so either some teeth have to be removed (and then braces) or they are just snaggle-toothed. Fortunately having crooked teeth doesn't have quite the same stigma here it has in the U.S., at least in most of the places I lived, but it still isn't good from a healthy teeth perspective. I don't know what, if anything, I can do, besides hope John gets a really super job in the U.S., and then we have loads of time (and money) to spend going back and forth to the dentist for a while. I'm a stay-at-home mom, I should have time for this kind of thing, right? Why don't I? Maybe it's the crip thing. Yeah, that'd be it. I don't know, I don't know what I am typing, I don't know why, it seems all I do is write the same things over and over and over and it's dull and boring and pointless. Except that I can look back (as I have been, deleting entries from my old diary) and see that things have changed and I have changed, and what I complain about has changed. Somewhat. But it seems to take a lo-ong time and a lot of repetition. Boring. Well, that's enough of my for tonight. I hope. I miss talking to people. You know, out loud? I was pretty wacko at the meeting last Sunday. I wonder if this one will be any better? I wonder if I end up picking up Adina. She is not someone to talk to. I wonder if Neil and I will have an actual conversation this week? I wonder how my grandbabies are doing? I wonder what it is Hashem has in store for us next. *sigh* What a life. 0 bleats so far:: Yesterdays : Tomorrows ::
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