Dear readers,

This holiday season has certainly been busy! My final finals are approaching later this week, and by Thursday I will be finished with Law School (assuming I pass...) after three quick years!

Thanksgiving also came and went, with a fun family dinner at Rosebud, where I got to sit next to Kristin Wiig and take a picture with her!!! Friends from around the country gathered at my lovely new apartment to reminisce about old times and indulge in our new experiences. The evening ended with a great conversation that lasted until the sun came up with my friend, where we compared his recent battles with love to mine, both grappling with the thought of forgiveness.

This friend has been through a lot in his life, and next to him I have experienced relatively little. However when it comes to love, we were certainly on the same page. Though we ended up here in different ways, we are both ready to devote ourselves completely to another person in a way that most people our age have not yet even tapped into. At 25, he spoke about wanting to find his "Mrs.", have some babies, and let his friends catch up to him whenever they were ready. It was the first time I spoke with a man my age who felt the same way that I did, understanding what it meant to measure friends by quality and not quantity, set priorities by loyalties and courage rather than by self-indulegence, and find the love of our lives instead of just a life that we loved.

We discussed our romantic pasts and I found it interesting that after two years his wound was still open, but that he was ready to forgive. Perhaps time helped him forget why they are no longer together, perhaps he has seen that he can't find someone better, perhaps he is lonely and settling, and perhaps she is truly the love of his life. Whatever the reason, his ability to forgive is admirable.

This weekend I attended an untraditional Bat-Mitzvah of a remarkable girl. The Temple it was held at was the only Temple in Illinois that used sign language for every part of the service. The young woman did such a graceful job, as she learned her Torah portion in not one, not two, but three languages: English, Hebrew, and Sign Language. Her hands danced in fluid movements as her voice recited important lessons about forgiveness. As I listened to her read and discuss her Torah portion I thought of my friend and our conversation.

The portion spoke about forgiveness. Joseph (the one with the Amazing Techni-colored Dream Coat), was the favorite of his father's sons. Fueled by jealousy, his 11 brothers took Joseph and left him for dead in a cave. As a result, Joseph was found, sold into slavery, and went to jail. His siblings, those he loved and trusted most in the world, stabbed him in the back. But after several years when they were reunited and Joseph became a prominent figure in Egypt, Joseph forgave them without second thought.

Betrayal is an ugly thing, especially when it comes from someone you love. A friend, sibling, lover, spouse, teammate, coworker, etc. might stab you in the back and leave you just as Joseph's brothers left him. But the lesson we learn is that we are supposed to forgive. In Christianity, forgiveness in the eyes of G-d occurs when someone is remorseful, but no literal apology must be made. On the other hand, Judaism teaches that an apology must be made to those who are wronged before forgiveness can occur. While those wronged might not accept an apology, G-d will, as he is also able to tell whether or not it is sincere.

My friend and I are nowhere near Joseph in terms of righteousness, but I was impressed that he was able to forgive even when he felt betrayed. When thinking about myself I saw that I don't make myself vulnerable to be betrayed by most people. I let a few people in that closely and trust that they would not hurt me. For the most part, I am a good judge of character, so this has been successful and I am a better person for it. I believe it also makes me more loyal, and I strive to earn trust from others because I know how important it is for me. A question I often think about is whether it is harder to apologize or to forgive, and I think if both are done whole-heartedly they are equally difficult and admirable.

This weekend was my 25th birthday and I was happy to welcome a fresh, new year. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, and I am a testament to that. After all, if you are not strong, you must be, well, weak... and who can get through life like that? This year I will continue to grow and learn and be tested. This year I also know what I look for in others who I want to accompany me in my life more clearly than before. Though a snow storm prevented some good friends from joining me, I had a great dinner with those closest to me. Some people walked in and were impressed with the amount of people who showed up, for others it seemed a small group. For me, like Goldy-locks, it was just right, as I spent a great evening with those I am glad to be surrounded by.

BABY It's Cold Outside!!!!

UPDATE: Sienna Marin Saddler Schellinger :) was born at 2:15am on Nov. 14, 2010. 6 pounds 10 ounces of sheer perfection!!!

My best friend is currently in labor with her first child!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She is having a baby girl, who will be as thin as a noodle, as smart as a child of two Stanford grads would be, and as beautiful and exotic as Cleopatra. This is going to be one rock star baby. Can you sense my excitement!!??

This baby gets to start from scratch. A new, big and beautiful world is her Oyster. She is entering into the most loving universe a child can have, and I know she will be provided with only the best kinds of support and affection a child could ever need. I am so proud of my friend and her husband, as I could not imagine a more fit couple to supply me with my new favorite toy, and she could not have come at a more appropriate time:

My favorite time of year has officially begun! Yesterday at noon 93.9 WLIT started their month-long holiday music season, playing nothing but inspiring, joyful Christmas music on the radio 24 glorious hours a day, 7 beaming days a week. Upon hearing this music, which can make some people's skin crawl, makes every part of my being feel joyful and lighthearted.

Now, you may be wondering, why is this Jewish girl so obsessed with Christmas? I can tell you where it all began: I was born in Israel, and when my family moved to the US in October of 1989 it was the first time I saw snow. Before I even uttered my first English word I was immediately enrolled in Montessori, a nondenominational school. After a few short weeks the holidays came, and bright eyed and enthusiastic I came home, wrapped my tiny hands around my dad's neck and exclaimed, "Daddy! Daddy! Santa Clause knows my name!!!!!"

Needless to say my parents pulled me out and enrolled me at the Beth Shalom preschool the next day, but it was too late, the Christmas Spirit crept into my Soul and hasn't left since. Clearly it is not the religious aspect of Christmas that I love so much. In large part, it's an indication that Hanukah is quickly approaching and my mom's potato pancakes will soon be sizzling on the stove. That we will light the candles together as a family for eight nights in a row. It means that my birthday is quickly approaching, and that along with New Years I will be able to reflect on the past year and have one more year of wisdom behind me. But most of all, it's the joy, the spirit of giving, the warm smiles everyone bundles under their winter scarfs and hats, the uplifting music and the sparkling lights that make me count down to the day Starbucks starts using it's red cups every year.

Most importantly, it arouses some sort of spiritual connection with my best friends from High School. They live all over the map and have mostly moved away to achieve their dreams, but this time of year never fails to bring us back together. I am one of those rare people that would never want to revisit my college years but would relive high school in a millisecond. Overshadowing the bullying, the mean girls and the broken hearts was my life as a "Theatre Kid," or a "PAL" as my jerk English teacher called us (Performing Arts Loser). I don't care if you were the valedictorian or a 12 sport athlete, being a PAL enriched my life in an unspeakable way I doubt most people can understand. On the surface, I stayed away from the wrong crowds, avoided trouble, got direction through a healthy hobby, and was guided by the most caring and able of mentors. But it goes much deeper than that. It created lifelong bonds, it taught me about human interaction, about caring about others and about being comfortable with myself.

If any of you watch Glee, that is a pretty accurate description of life as a GBN PAL. We got to school at 7:45am and didn't leave until 9 or 10pm, leaving a few hours for homework, sleep, and hopefully a shower. Comedy Troupe, Choir, Show Choir, Theatre, Vocal Lessons, Musicals and lots more activities kept us busy and gave us direction. I played Tennis my freshman year, and I didn't get nearly as much out of that as I did through the performing arts department. But it was the holidays that made the countless hours of hard work worth it. We went everywhere from preschools to country clubs to nursing homes to spread holiday cheer and puts smiles on faces that needed them. We sang "Silent Night" to a woman who was taking her last breaths in the hospital, and sang "Joy to the World" to tables of loving young families. I have repaired houses wrecked from hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, been a counselor at a camp for children with cancer, and visited with HIV infected orphans in South Africa, yet something about singing holiday music brought me just as much or more fulfillment than many things I have done in my life. I needed it just as much as they did, and the reciprocity we shared connected me with my friends and our audiences.

One time we sang at an overcrowded home for adults with mental disabilities. The home was more like a dirty, smelly warehouse in disarray, with one staff person to every 15 or 20 residents. But when we got there you could never tell. They were so excited for us to sing and the joy on their faces was priceless. As we were wrapping up and singing our grand finale, "White Christmas," a very big and tall resident who made consistent eye contact with me throughout the concert sprang into a leap, pulled up his sweatpants and darted at me faster than I could scream "ELF!" He grabbed my leg, tore off my shoe, and started massaging my foot, my calf, my thigh and... well, you get it. I literally fell back onto my friends behind me and to my sides. An experience that could have been quite traumatic only left me with assurance that I was supported by my friends not just physically but emotionally as well. Turns out the guy had a foot fetish and was too big for his small caretaker to restrain. But no worries, the show must go on, and it did as we caroled to our usual exit.

Every year since graduating from high school my friends and I have gotten back together for some song and sentiment. I don't speak to some of them the entire year, and when December rolls around it's as though things have not changed. We have all moved on with our lives and gone to the moon and back for our aspirations, and have all been successful in our own special ways. I am so proud of them and am counting the days to get the gang back together again.

In the mean time, I am eagerly awaiting my new baby-friend to be delivered. Another healthy and happy life entering this world only to make it a better place, particularly around Christmas time.

No Excuses!

I was hoping that my next post would be more lighthearted, since many good things are going on in my life. I am mostly excited for my best friends from high school to come in for our annual Thanksgiving choir-song-fest, and I am anxiously awaiting "The Most Wonderful Time of Year:" Christmas/Hanukah/My Birthday to finally arrive. Instead, I had to share an interaction that occurred this morning:

Today (11.11, make a wish!) I officially encountered without a doubt the most tactful and mature adult interaction of my life. In my 24 years of learning how to play successfully with the rest of mankind, I have tried to avoid the petty drama that follows around most girls. I have generally been pretty successful at it. I stay out of the way of those who don't understand me or that I don't understand, and have fierce loyalty towards those I care deeply about. As Dr. Seuss wisely stated, "Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind."

I received an e-mail from a good friend of mine this morning. It was short, to the point, and honest. I did something to hurt her feelings and she immediately sent me an e-mail telling me what I did that hurt her, and why it hurt her. Upon receiving the e-mail I felt the terrible pang of guilt you get when you known you did something wrong. I had about 50 excuses and reasons for doing what I did floating on my head, but her feelings were valid, and any excuse would be my way of invalidating those feelings. More importantly, I appreciated the way she approached me directly and immediately. Not a single person in my life has ever approached me in this sort of manner. I would like to think that I don't do many things that would warrant such an interaction, but even if I do, how could I know unless I am told?

Tuesday I went to a class that discussed ways to maintain a successful relationship, and what to do when someone is hurt. My friend acted in the exact manner that Judaism dictates in order for our relationship to be healthy, happy, and continuous. If someone does or says something that hurts, bearing a grudge is poisonous. Instead, telling that person, while it may be hard to make the initial confrontation, certainly pays off in the end. There have been a few times where I have tried to be as tactful as my friend, but it is a two way street. The person confronted must be as thoughtful as the confronter, leaving any excuses out of the picture, because feelings are feelings.

My friend talked about her own feelings instead of attacking what I did. It was not offensive, and I decided not to act defensively. I called her within minutes of receiving her e-mail, and we talked it through. I told her that she was right, that I had no excuse, and I apologized. It was painful to hear that I hurt my friend, but I can not express the appreciation I have for her that she approached me in the way she did. At the end of the conversation she told me that she does not hold grudges. I have been told this many times before, but this was the first time I believed it.

Few lessons in life stick forever, but I know this one will. Instead of creating an uneasy rift in our relationship, she can be confident that I will never again do what I did. Our loyalty will remain and our friendship will bloom for years to come, all because of something that lasted no more than five minutes.

Chug-a-Chug-a-Change-Chaaaaange!

UPDATE: NOV. 17, 2010 I am pleased to inform you, friends, that my train has found its tracks and that Sally is officially back in business :). I missed you all!


Change is Gooood
Change is Goood
Change is Good
Chang is Goo
Chng is Goo
Chn i Gh
Chu e Gho
Chug a Cho
Chug a Choo
Chug a Chooo
Chug a Choooo
CHUG A CHOOO CHOOOO!!!!!

Did you see what I did there?
I jumped on a train.
The change train.

One of my favorite songs, "People Get Ready," talks about change, and makes it seem easy to take a leap of faith, hop on, and go where it leads:

"People get ready
There's a train a-coming
You don't need no baggage
You just get on board
All you need is faith
To hear the diesel's humming
Don't need no ticket
You just thank the Lord"


So... I'm on this train... I don't have a ticket (the train came way earlier than expected...) and I don't have any baggage (literally, all of my stuff is in storage right now...). The one problem is, I think I left my faith back at the station? I just got on board, because the train came, and I had no other choice.

So... I'm on this train... and it is admittedly terrifying because I have no idea where it is going. For the last three years I have been at the same school, lived at the same place, dated the same guy, and used the Blue Line. My graduation date from school is January 16, and on that day each and every one of those things will have been peeled off of my warm and comfy cocoon, leaving what I can only hope will be a... butterfly?

So... I'm on this train... and through the glass I look and see myself standing at the station getting smaller and smaller in the distance. Sadly, when I pull my face away to try to find my reflection in the window, it's foggy and I can't make out an image of the Sally I have recognized for 24 years. Where was I in all of this change? I feel like I was unwillingly pushed on to the train, and that now I have no choice but to go forward, but I'm still trying to figure out what forward is?

Mahatma Gandhi said “We must become the change we want to see.” I suppose I'll have to patiently sit on the seat on this train on these tracks on the path to... somewhere. And I'll sit here until i figure out what kind of change I want to see. Up until the moment the train unexpectedly arrived, there was nothing in my life that I would have changed, and now I don't have a choice. So I'll try to hold on to that faith, and hopefully, before I know it, I'll be able to thank the lord.

Count Down to Harry Potter!

“It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” - Albus Dumbledore

Halloween marked two years since my beloved grandfather passed away. Yes, on Halloween. The year it happened was quite a mess and only a few people knew about it. I had a party with about 50 people at my apartment that night, found out he passed away earlier that day while trying to prepare, and had a ticket to fly to Israel the next morning for the funeral. God works in funny ways. I think the party helped me take my mind off of the fact that I had lost my last living grandparent that day.

One of my favorite memories of him was the last time he visited the States in 1998. He and my grandmother flew 13 hours from Israel to celebrate my sister's wedding and my Bat Mitzvah. Can you imagine the stress of my mother planning both, while taking care of my grandparents?! Not many women could handle that, yet she did with her usual grace and humility.

He was one of the smartest men I have ever known, with the most contagious belly laugh imaginable- certainly my father's father. Constantly asking me multiplication questions, traveling the world for business, swimming in the Mediterranean every morning, and fluent in at least five languages. At that point only the first Harry Potter- Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, was published. I have this vivid memory (stored in my pensive ;) ) of coming downstairs in the morning only to see my grandfather, a wrinkled man of 85 at the time, bright eyed and anxious to flip to the next chapter of the wizarding world of Harry Potter. He read the book, in a language fourth or fifth from his native, in three days. He was just as fascinated by J.K Rowling's imagination, imagery and ideas as I was, 60 years his junior. I will go ahead and venture to guess that if you don't like Harry Potter, your imagination is not of the whimsical kind, and you are definitely not a Sagittarius.

As part one of the 7th installment comes out next week, I thought I'd write this post for him. He would have loved to continue reading the tales and watching the movies as much as my father and I do. I was in high school when the first two films came out. I went with my dad, Thursday night at midnight, along with all of the other witches and wizards who dressed up for the movie. I missed school the next morning, but the time spent with my dad was priceless. For the following two films, I drove home from college to once again view the Thursday midnight showing with my dad. For numbers five and six, you guessed it, two adults, waiting in a two hour line, to go see the fantastic adventures of Ron, Hermione and Harry.

What is it about Harry Potter that we love so much? Aside from the remarkable imagination of the story itself, Harry Potter sends out a powerful message. I stumbled across a blog that listed the most prevalent themes in Harry Potter:

1.Love is the most powerful force in the world
2.Objective morality (there is good, there is evil)
3.There is a battle between good and evil
4. We must choose a side
5.We should choose the good
Click here to see the blog.

For a children's book, this wisdom is invaluable to any age. Love is certainly the most powerful force in the world. When we lose someone, the pain is unspeakable. It is not only emotional but also physical. For true love, no obstacle is too great to overcome. If I have learned one thing about love, it is that it is unconditional. And when there are conditions, it is simply not true love. My father told me a long time ago, that when you really love someone, you even love the things you don't like. There is no such thing as "I love you, BUT..."

In Harry's case, it is the love his parents had for him that kept him alive when Voldemort wanted to kill him. It is the love he has for his friends and family that helps him defy the Death Eaters time after time. I can not think of a couple with a love more powerful than my parents. Affection, Attention, Appreciation, Affirmation, Adoration, Affinity... the list goes on, from A-Z. Every couple has their qualms, problems and annoying tendencies. Harry and I have learned together that love is certainly hard work. Yet Harry, who could have succumbed to Voldemort and the temptation of taking the easy way out, personifies unconditional love.

I am looking forward to the second to last midnight premier of Harry Potter that I will see with my dad. While there are hundreds of other midnight premiers we will attend, the last Harry Potter will close a chapter that has lasted almost 13 years, but my memories with my father, and my father's father, will be as strong as Harry's scar.



Other Harry Potter quotes I keep close:

After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. ~Albus Dumbledore

Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain. ~Arthur Weasley

It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities. ~Albus Dumbledore

If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals. ~Sirius Black

Numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. ~Albus Dumbledore

You place too much importance... on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! ~ Albus Dumbledore

Differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open. ~Albus Dumbledore

It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. ~Albus Dumbledore

It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. ~Albus Dumbledore

The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with caution. ~Albus Dumbledore

Ah, music. A magic beyond all we do here! ~Albus Dumbledore

The best of us must sometimes eat our words. ~Albus Dumbledore

If you're holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time. ~Albus Dumbledore

Dark and difficult times lie ahead. Soon we must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy. ~Albus Dumbledore

What's comin' will come and we'll meet it when it does. ~Hagrid

Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike. ~Albus Dumbledore

People find it far easier to forgive others for being wrong than being right. ~Albus Dumbledore

Who Takes the (cup)Cake?

“Sin is sweet in the beginning, but bitter in the end.” -The Talmud

My recent sinful indulgence? CUPCAKES. Don't lie, you are addicted to Cupcake Wars on the Food Network too... I eat them, and eat them, and eat them, and in the end, I'm bitter that eating all of those fancy muffins are giving me a muffin top (although these days I have the luxury of being able to gain a few lbs). I'll be the first to admit, I'm a foodie trend whore. Frozen yogurt, acai berries, rhubarb desserts, quail eggs, you name it, as long as it's kosher (I'm dying to try true foie gras and coq au vin).

The newest trend: Sprinkles Cupcakes. Straight from the skinny streets of Beverly Hills comes this fattening fad. Eaten (and then likely regurgitated) by the ladies of 90210, and sweeping the nation from West to East. Sprinkles opened up about two months ago in Chi-town, bringing lingering lines lasting up to a few hours! Who would wait an hour and a half for a cupcake you ask? THIS GIRL! Work? School? Shopping? Eh, I had nothing better to do.

I first had a medium-sized Sprinkles in May of 2009 during a trip to LA, and was super excited to see the "coming soon" sign at 50 East Walton Street in Chicago. I'll be honest, they are not my favorite cupcakes, not even by a stretch, but for some reason the long line gives me the same type of thrill I imagine Dexter gets upon a killing. The best part? The cinnamon sugar cupcake. It melts in your mouth (if eaten fresh) with the added crunch of a frosting-free cinnamon-sugar topping. The worst part? Their signature dot in the center of the cupcake (uneatable candy? Why torture me?!) The rest, despite the long line, is in between. Yet for some reason I continue to stand in that line, like a mindless zombie. It also helps that if you follow Sprinkles on Twitter: they give you a secret word to whisper when you are there to receive a free cupcake. Don't underestimate the value of an almost $5 cupcake for free. Follow them at @sprinkles for some free goodies!

Another tweeting treat is @flirtycupcakes (http://www.flirtycupcakes.com/). A lovely young lady drives around in a Tiffany-Blue van, tweeting daily locations and times for people around the city to follow.* A hit in the summertime, you could see long lines forming on street corners. We'll see if the frosting can stand up to our winter frost. With creative names like The McDreamy (Chocolate Cupcake With A Cream Cheese & Chocolate Filling), Curious George (Banana Chocolate Cupcake With A Light, Salted Caramel Italian Buttercream Frosting), Smore Me Over (Chocolate Cupcake With A Marshmallow Frosting), and my personal favorite, Devil in Disguise (you guessed it, Red Velvet). There's also a lip-smacking assortment of four mini cupcakes for your chance to try to convince yourself that eating all four different flavors is the caloric equivalent of eating one regular-sized treat (you know who you are...). I find these cupcakes to be light, slightly smaller in size than competitors but full of heart (she bakes all night and drives around all day!), and definitely my favorite cream cheese frosting in flavor, texture and cupcake-to-frosting ratio.

Other notable options?
Sweet Mandy B's (208 W Webster Ave Chicago) are large and pretty, and probably one of the most favored in Chicago. Mandy is too sweet for me, I prefer her cookies.
Swirlz cupcakes (705 W. Belden Ave) have a great assortment of gluten-free and vegan varieties.
Molly's Cupcakes (2536 N Clark St) wins for most adorable store, with wooden swings hanging from the ceiling and a sprinkles station to add your own touch, for the complete nostalgic experience.
A great option in the Loop is Sugar Bliss Cake Boutique, where the frosting alone is so pretty you might want to just keep it for decoration.
For the more adventurous, try a More cupcake. Known for its original flavors and ingredients (passion fruit and bacon!), you are always in for a surprise. (1 E. Delaware Pl.)

With all of the over priced cupcake options out there, I'm sure you'll find your favorite. Perhaps a well-spent birthday would include going from place to place searching for the winner. As for my personal favorite? Nothing beats an oversized, colorful, perfectly-sweet Crumbs cupcake. As my luck would have it, just like men and shoes, I want what I can't have: Crumbs has not yet graced Chicago with its presence. Rumored to be coming soon to the Loop, I just will have to hope that it will open here before my next trip to LA, Boston, or NYC.

My final concession is that while paying a small fortune for a cupcake is, er, thrilling, I found after indulging in all of the toppings, flavors, fillings, varieties, shapes, and sizes Chicago has to offer, that nothing beats a good old fashioned home made cupcake. Simple, sweet, and a touch of love in every bite.

*Hungry for a full lunch? Follow @Happybodega. Another truck tweeting location updates around the city for a good lunch alternative to Corner Baker. A (sanitary) fun, fresh, flavorful food experience.

Oh For the Love of Dog!

Ahhh the single life. I didn't think I'd ever be back here.

I suppose going out now is supposed to be a somewhat different experience, and I don't remember it being so... so... oomph.

Just an excerpt of a recent conversation, taking place with an over-zealous 22 year old, for your entertainment:

Dilbert*: Hi.
Me: Hey
Dilbert: What's your name?
Me: Sally.
Dilbert: Are you from Chicago?
Me: Ya.
Dilbert: Where do you live?
Me: Downtown.
Dilbert: Where downtown?
Me: Streeterville.
Dilbert: Where in Streeterville?
Me: Michigan and Chicago.
Dilbert: Oh, by the American Dental Association! Do you live alone?
Me: Yes.
Dilbert: Wow. That must be really lonely.
Me: It's not, I have my dogs.
Dilbert: Wow, that's sad. You're like a cat lady.
Me: No.
Dilbert: Do they sleep in bed with you?
Me: Of course.
Dilbert: This is a weird question, but what do you do if you have, er, company over?
Me: Dont worry, you won't find out.

Just then my friend came in on his tall white stallion and swept me away, well, at least far away from Dilbert.

Next week is chock full of social events, including Halloween. I will be sure to have some more of these ridiculous escapades for your entertainment. I have to go take my dogs out now...


*Names have been changed so to protect the identity of morons.

Good Enough for Goodwill?

Every six months or so I shop my closet and purge it of whatever I no longer feel I need. I somehow manage to accumulate two full shopping bags of clothes- mostly hand me downs from my mom or once-worn Forever XXI outfits- and make a trip to Plato's Closet to try and make a buck or two per shirt. Whatever Plato doesn't want is dropped of at Goodwill (after a month or two of helplessly sitting in my car). Last night I went to an interesting class where I learned that Jews have an OBLIGATION to provide clothing for the homeless. When I first heard this I happily thought, "well, I've got that covered!" I was wrong:

The clothing we are to donate must be presentable, wearable, and in good condition. I learned that my favorite blouse with a wine stain on it, a ten year old sundress, or my Northface jacket with a tear on the sleeve won't cut it. This roots back to a fundamental Jewish principle stating that we are to avoid embarrassing another at all costs. The homeless shouldn't be forced to look homeless, and they shouldn't have to pick the best of picked-over rags. Thus, I doubt I will ever be able to walk back into a Plato's Closet to try to sell gently used clothes without a small man standing on my shoulder whispering "YOU SHOULD DONATE THAT!!!"

I know of a kind woman who has fourteen children (yes, FOURTEEN!). She is a great grandmother and still has two children living at home. She is a full-time teacher, but somehow, every Friday, her and a friend collect clothing from local homeless people and wash the clothing for them. And you thought YOU had a full plate? I have also been to a very special warehouse that has a clothing "store," where the less-fortunate can come and shop, either for free or highly-subsadized prices, and they leave with a shopping bag full of clothing. The children leave thinking they were in a normal store and the adults leave with their dignity.

In Judaism, there are seven levels of giving charity (Tzedakah). The levels of charity from least meritorious to most are:

1. Giving begrudgingly
2. Giving less that you should, but giving it cheerfully.
3. Giving after being asked
4. Giving before being asked
5. Giving when you do not know the recipient's identity, but the recipient knows your identity
6. Giving when you know the recipient's identity, but the recipient doesn't know your identity
7. Giving when neither party knows the other's identity
8. Enabling the recipient to become self-reliant

This past Tuesday I was honored to attend the Friends of the Israel Defense Force (FIDF) annual dinner. I believe they raised something like two million dollars for young Israeli soldiers throughout the evening. I was thrilled to hear that as the cause is very close to my heart. The primary fundraising strategy took place immediately after dinner, where guests who wished to donate additional funds were asked to stand and speak into a microphone on camera to announce their donation. The feeling in the room was a cocktail of curiosity and discomfort. Many stood up, donating anywhere from $500 to, get this, SIX HUNDRED THOUSAND dollars. 1000 pairs of eyes shifted from person to person wondering who will top the highest bidder. While the numbers were shockingly high, I couldn't help but think that this method is probably the least gracious way to inspire donation. Seeing people stand up and donate caused a wonderfully generous chain reaction of further donations. It was effective, but not affective. Unfortunately that is the world we live in today, but it doesn't have to be. As much as I'd like to make $50 at Plato's Closet, I think that I have to start giving graciously, without looking for anything in return.

Still, any form of giving is good, great, wonderful! I can only speak for myself though, in saying that I have to start giving in a more selfless way.

Time

Dear readers,

Time is the only way to heal, and right now I need some time. I thank you for all of your support, encouragement and comments.

"There is no forgiveness without love, and there is no love without forgiveness."

Love,
Sally

High in Heel Heaven!

"That Extra Half Inch..." An incomplete yet profound statement by Victoria Beckham. I was recently re-introduced into the concept of heels only to discover a 2010 world filled with colorful 6-inch stilettos and disco-barbie platforms. What a pleasant surprise it was! After three years of heel-less-hell, I have ascended into a whole new part of the shoe department.

Heels. They make you stand straighter and your legs look longer. I am tall, they help me stand taller, and I am strong, and they make me feel stronger. The last three years I dated a man equal to my height who was so uncomfortable with me being taller than him that my shoe closet was limited to flats and flip flops. At the time, I was happy to make this compromise, as it gave us both a reciprocal sense of pleasure and joy. We saw eye to eye. The shoe fit, and I wore it. Looking back, I think that our almost flawless relationship ended because he asked me to give up my height both in stature and in nature, and when I couldn't, it was a painful and sole-less (pun intended!) end.

I am going for some much earned retail therapy, and will hopefully find a perfect match, today, tomorrow, sometime soon. Shoes give you blisters, and may leave scars, but they heal (another pun!) just in time for you to put on another pair. I tried Jimmy Choo, but maybe I need a Manolo. I miss my old pair. They were broken in and I was ready to wear them for the rest of my life. But the heel suddenly broke, and the box they came in just didn't want to fit into my closet. I fell, and now I am looking for a shoe that will exert confidence when I have none, that will always give me a boost and never demand me to be smaller than I am, that will be comfortable, that will support me on the rockiest of roads, and a shoe that will fit like a glove.

I Doubt Self Doubt

What is it about women? They are catty, passive aggressive, and jealous, but when one is in a crisis they flock together like birds in a park.

I recently have experienced the most challenging week of my life, not like "American Idol" challenging, like "Survivor" on steroids challenging. I had to make one of those rare decisions that affect the rest of your life, and I chose to stand up for myself when I could have easily walked into a situation where I had to leave my voice and my soul and every aspect of my being at the door. Although the outcome was not one I hoped for or imagined, I can happily say that the one thing I have learned is how to lose ten pounds in one week - ladies, it CAN be done! Email me and I'll show you how!

The point is, after being told by an over the hill woman who knew my deepest vulnerabilities that, among other ridiculous accusations, "you have no friends!" my friends proved her wrong. In my moment of crisis, darkness, I-think-this-is-what-it-feels-like-to-want-to-die, it was my friends that created the most supportive, trusting, and loving cushion around me. Friends and family reached out to me literally from coast to coast, and from Israel to Cambodia, to offer their love and support to crush those crushing words that I heard.

The drinks and barely-touched meals they paid for, the calls, texts, hugs, visits, hours and hours of conversation and analyzing, and uplifting support pulled me out of a debilitating depression into some sort of wormhole in between grief and normalcy, which is a huge improvement from last week. I feel like a Chilean miner slowly being pulled out of the ground (so happy for their families by the way!).

What I am trying to say is that my friends saved my life, literally, and I can't thank them enough for it. Trust me, it's not over, there is alot of work to still be done, many more drinks, nights out, conversations, and tears until I can get anywhere back to feeling normal, but I dedicate this to those girls (and some guys!) that reaffirmed that there is a light within me and I did the right thing by keeping the flame alive. Anyways, they made me doubt my self doubt, and I thank them for every minute of it. I really saw a side of my friends I have never known existed, because I never needed so much support. I am in awe of these girls and how they brought me back to a sweat-pants-wearing, non-showered, somewhat socially acceptable, life.

From Zero to 72 Virgins. Oh, can I build a temple there?

So, this Ground Zero mosque debate...

After all of the facebook statuses I have seen about it, I decided to post the following:

With all due respect, those of you who think building on ground zero has anything to do with our constitution, you are wrong. That being said, I am going to go finish up my giant gun installation to put onto the Columbine campus.

Although it was a general comment, and really meant to be a joke at the end, it has sparked a very heart-felt and emotional conversation on my facebook wall. It was half-heartedly directed at the following comment made by an improv peer (who I respect very much):

You know what I don't want near Ground Zero? Bigots. Please stay a good ten blocks away. This leaves room for the Constitution, which did not change on Sept. 11.

First, I am in no way a bigot. I am Jewish and that alone lends itself to much hatred and discrimination (I saw a client today with a swastika tattoo as well as a picture of three burning klansmen with the National Socialist Party flag tattooed on his forearm- nice guy though...). My moms parents were holocaust survivors and what they went through was unspeakable. Many clients (mostly Hispanic, some African American, some white, some Middle Eastern-yes, including Muslims!) come through our office and they get utmost respect, attention, and dedication in any case they have. I have had several fights with family members and friends due to my progressive attitudes (yet I don't consider myself a liberal- I voted for McCain at the American Embassy in Israel), and while racist joke or comment might come out of my mouth once in a while on stage or among those who share my sense of humor, I am in no way a bigot, racist, nor do I practice any other form of non-acceptance.

Second, as of right now, building a mosque on Ground Zero is not a legal issue but a moral one. Freedom of speech, religion, bla bla bla, it is much more complicated than that and if you would like for me to give you a run down of constitutional law, I would be happy to do so.

If this mosque were going up in South Africa, maybe there would be some constitutional net to catch this argument. Their constitution is amazing and raises the bar for all future constitutions and amendment. For example, respect and dignity is literally superior to freedom of speech and expression, and discrimination based on sexual orientation is expressly forbidden (although as far as I can remember they are still only allowed to have civil unions and not marry...). I am a big fan of the South African constitution (I was there in March for a constitutional rights seminar through a law school class), and you should check it out here: http://www.info.gov.za/documents/constitution/index.htm.

So far, within two hours of posting my comment, I have received two "likes," two positive feedback comments, one positive "fb chat" conversation, one "I'm not sure how I feel" "fb chat" conversation, and one negative comment made by the esteemed improvist who wrote the comment that sparked the debate in the first place. That's five positives, one negative, and one neutral. I should mention that my funny-neutral-stand up comic-friend, not from Switzerland but from West Virginia, cleverly likened building the mosque on Ground Zero to "Charlton Heston to holding an NRA convention at Columbine (which he did)," or to "building a water park near Katrina."

Wait! One of my "like"-ers just wittingly added, "It's a matter of taste, I'm off to build my Nazi tribute statute at Auchwitz. What? I have the right, don't I?" Well said, my friend.

My sentiments exactly. This is a matter of taste and morals, or if you will, respect and honor for those who died during the September 11 attacks. I refuse to get a tattoo because I envision the Nazi's carving numbers into my grandmother's forearm. That doesn't mean I can't do it, it means I don't want to out of respect.

My supportive fb-chatter told me that she read that there is a 70%/30% divide between mosque-building non-supporters versus supporters, which is quite large and decisive for Americans. I don't know this source of information though, so don't quote me on it.

Wait! New update: another fellow improviser added another negative comment. The score is presently

Sally: 5 Mosque:2

He wrote:

Let me try something here - "Guns don't kill people; people with guns kill people." "Planes don't kill people; people with planes kill people." So the WTC analogue to a gun installation at Columbine would be an aviation museum, and the Columbine analogue to a Mosque at ground zero would be...well, the killers were kids, so I guess a school? Hold on...

Thus concludes your daily dose of J.R. Brand irreverence.

No wait, I've got a better one - people oppose a Mosque because reactionary twits blame Islam for the 9/11 attacks. Reactionary twits also blame video games for the Columbine massacre, so I guess what would REALLY be offensive is opening up a video arcade at Columbine...

Ok, I'm not gonna lie: I don't really understand where he is going and what he is saying with this, but I think it's a negative so I counted it as such. And who is he calling a reactionary twit? If Bush had gotten up from his child-sized mini chair in the middle of story time in some classroom and declared war, he would deserve to be called a reactionary twit. But he did the opposite, and is still called a reactionary twit. Everyone is eventually a reactionary twit, so I have no idea what to do with that statement. What I do know is that while I certainly don't blame 9/11 on Islam in general, I blame 9/11 on radical Islam. In fact, the people who are responsible for 9/11 [read: Bin Laden] expressly cite Islam and Allah as the reasons behind the attacks. I find value in the Islamic religion and some great lessons can be learned from it. In fact, they are my brothers and sisters. But radical anything is wrong, just as the radical Israeli who assassinated Izchak Rabin (the infamous Israeli prime minister) was wrong to murder him.

Wait! Another update! Ok guys, this is great. The numbers are climbing (in my favor), and I anticipate many interesting comments within the next day or so, but I'm not going to post all of them, because they are all so great.

On the other hand, the original commenter for whom my response was intended is clearly in the lead, with 12 "likes" and four positive comments, and I don't know how many "fb chats" or other forms of feedback. She also has one hour on me.

I find this to be a really fascinating dialogue. First, I love intelligent people who can back up a conversation with something substantial. I can't stand talking to you if you have no reason other than being a 'bama supporter to support the building of the Mosque. I also don't like when people use more voluminous words just to try to sound smarter. It clouds your argument and makes you look like an extremist nerd.

The most interesting thing to me is the dichotomy between those who find "political correctness" to be the superior argument (those more along my lines), and those who find "liberal progressiveness" to be the superior argument (those against me). Both of these are extremely American sentiments. In Europe and Israel no one gives a shit about being politically correct. Everyone can do or say what they want without worrying about being scrutinized by pop-culture blogs and "Entertainment Tonight," in exchange for fifteen minutes of hellish fame, or worrying about being fired for saying something that can be misconstrued as a racist comment.

For example, Shirley Sherrod, the black United States Department of Agriculture employee was fired over false allegations of racism. The whole picture was missing. I think that is what is currently going on in this mosque debate. Did I mention Mrs. Sherrod was fired by the Obama administration? Although Obama himself never made the call, I think this would be a good example of "reactionary twits."

There is also a gap between my personal beliefs and what I think is really going on here. My personal belief is that a mosque should not go up directly in front of where 3000 people died on 9/11. I think that idea is disgusting and offensive, not only as a Jew and Israeli but as an American. I think that it is a spit in the face and a stab in the back to everyone involved, including all innocent Muslims, who probably are ashamed of what the radical muslims have done in the name of the religion they share. In addition, here is my personal guarantee that there is no way this mosque will ever be built, and that while the debate is interesting, it is all together pointless. The moment they break ground and begin construction, you can bet that I will be the first person in line to see the mosque, and respect its (hopefully honorable) intentions.

What I think is really going on, as one of my facebook commenters stated, is that Obama is trying to bridge a gap between Muslims and Americans. However, I personally feel as though this is more a job for an ambassador, and not the president and leader of our country. I feel as though there are many gaps to be bridged that have not gotten as much national attention and outcry such as setting up a stronger national dialogue with illegal immigrants and impovershed Americans (aside from healthcare, which I don't think was the perfect solution).

In fact, as far as I know Bush had a very good relationship with many Muslim leaders. I remember several images of Bush golfing with Muslims and sharing coffee talking about oil and other deals. Those that burned the bridge between Americans and Muslims were, unfortunately for the rest of Islam, radical Islamic terrorists. Obama was smart to have stayed quiet about it for so long and should have stayed that way, keeping his personal beliefs to himself.

I have to strongly disagree with my friend's comment about building a mosque near Ground Zero is just like building a mosque near a woman's center or a synagogue. Ground Zero is a melting pot of ashes of all different kinds of people, including innocent Muslims. It is not targeting one group, such as women, or Jews, or blacks, but Americans as a whole who died in the name of something they did not believe in and maybe never even heard of.

I find it hard to believe that the intentions of building a Mosque at this specific location is completely random, neutral, or filled with the best of intentions. It does not make sense to say that the original people who wanted to build this Mosque thought to do so for personal reasons that had nothing to do with 9/11. Why there? Why where so many people died, and where so many feel so strongly about it? Is it possible that it was a completely random occurrence? I highly doubt that. They knew there would be issues and dialogue. Building a mosque is not controversial. Building it on Ground Zero is. If that's not provocation, I don't know what is.

FOOOOOOD glorious foooood!

Food, glorious fooooood!

When I was in "Oliver!" I played Mrs. Corney, the evil keeper of the orphans, who made life hell for those cute little boys. When poor orphan Oliver asked me for more food I simply freaked out. This reaction came from a place deep in my heart: I am not good at sharing food. I love food. This love of food comes from my mother, often dubbed "the vacuum" cleaner. Not in the gross way.

So, on to the important stuff, last night my adoring mom and I strolled over the the Spertus Museum for an awesome kosher cooking demonstration for the high holidays. The chef, Laura Frankel, was absolutely awesome with respect to the recipes, explaining the background of the holiday traditions, as well as articulating important distinctions between expensive and cheap olive oils, honeys, and cinnamons!

It was really an outstanding class. Not only did I learn alot but it was a realistic recipe I look forward to making soon. It was completely seasonal, so I could use all of the yummy fresh foods I can find on Tuesdays across the street from my work at the farmers market. Creamy (but parve!) cold corn and potato soup, fresh and succulent heirloom tomato and roasted beat salad with an apple cider-honey dressing, sweet and savory beef/rasin/rice/cranberry stuffed chicken, with a pesto oil and fig compote garnish, and an AMAZINGLY EASY apple cake to bring it all together. It may have been the three glasses of wine, but I truly enjoyed the menu as well as the company, and look forward to seeing Laura again. I also bought one of her cookbooks, which she kindly signed. Buying a kosher cook book is one of life's little pleasures for me, because I can literally make every recipe in the book without modifying or skipping it over. Since I keep kosher (I use this term loosely; I don't mix dairy and meat, eat pork or shellfish, etc.), most cook books are not used the way they should be. I have a great assortment of my favorite chefs (Tal Ronnen, Bourdain, etc), but I find I have to get creative with recipes or skip them all together because they simply can't take a kosher-kick in the ass.

SO, I am thoroughly looking forward to trying Laura's recipes, in addition to having a private class with her soon! (She offers all sorts of fun classes!) Check out her blog here: http://www.lauraskosher.com/. Check out the museum here: http://www.spertus.edu/museum/.

I hope you can enjoy some of Laura's recipes as much as I did, and maybe even join me at her next event!

Facebook Etiquette?

Am I the only person that responds to things ASAIC (as soon as I can)??

If I send out a facebook message, for example, and person X did not respond after a few days, and I see that person X was on facebook at some point since then, should I be as annoyed as I am?

I can understand, people are busy, I am busy. Even when I am at my computer I don't always feel like replying, but I will within a day or so! For those of you who entertain, like myself, I am sure you can understand that people should respond so you know how much food to get. I mean, it is being done for them! I KNOW your mother or grandmother would not approve!

On that note, I would like to apologize to Susan and David Mandell, who sent out an evite for a house warming party (yay!!), but I forgot to respond and only did so today. So again, I'm sorry!

Hope you have a great day!

BLOG-o-jevich: It aint over yet!

In other news, I can now Blog-o about Blago, guilty on only one of 24 counts, hung on the rest! For folks who don't know what that means, it means the WHOLE SHABANG starts over (only if the prosecution elects to do so, which it did)! It is neither a victory nor a loss for the defense team, and we will be hearing about this case for a long looong time to come.

Would you want to be a juror in the next case? Just FYI, the trial lasted MONTHS and the jury deliberated for FOURTEEN DAYS! Jurors in federal court get paid $40-$50 a day... wait... WHAT!? Could you pay your mortgage/rent/mani-pedi with that kind of money!?!?

On a side note, I worked briefly on the Blogo case for Ed Genson. I was a big deal for about 4 weeks and then they didn't want to deal with the ex governor, so my time there was done.

Also, two huge thugs came into the office today and threatened my brother/boss. SCARY!

Welcome to Oh is that sO!

Hello readers! Hello... Hello? Is anyone even there? I have never really gotten the point of a blog, I'm not very good at updating this stuff, and I never saw the point of checking in on someone's life (read: twitter). On the other hand, I am addicted to checking Facebook status, so what's the diff?

Either way, if someone is reading, hello! I created Oh is that sO basically to be my trusty sidekick. My mind is a racing one, and I am constantly thinking, questioning and realizing, so this blog is here to help me organize my thoughts and get some feedback. As all normal human beings, my moods change dramatically throughout the days. So don't be expecting a rainbows and cookies blog, or a spiders and graveyard blog. Expect something in between. This is here to rant, rave, rejoice and reject, and hopefully, dear readers, you can participate as well!

I hope you enjoy. In fact, I hope I enjoy!

Sincerely, Sally