It's May, and you know what that means. Oh wait, you don't.

It's a bit early for a Mother's Day post, but then again what better way to differentiate oneself! And yes, we realize this is strange written in the third person. No one's forcing you to read, is all we're sayin'.

Today is May.

First, you're welcome for sharing what we're sure is surprising news to y'all.

But second, we'd like to spend a few serious moments describing what May means to us as May will forever be inextricably linked to Mother's day.  See, we lost our own in early May. We remember the day she died. The day before she died. The cruelly beautiful and sunny Sunday that we tossed a shovelful of dirt into the ground. The cruel irony of burying her on the special day we had previously dedicated to the joy of drinking tequila. Sacrilege! And then, one week later, Mother's Day, which seemed at the time to be an unbearable punishment from the universe. 

Still, at the same time, it also seemed an appropriate time to symbolically acknowledge this loss. For that reason, we chose to unveil her tombstone on Mother's Day. That was one year later, one month past the official 11-month Jewish morning period, and though the constant, overwhelming grief had subsided, the intensity had not, and we recall wondering just how much longer that would take. 11 months was not enough. Who were these "forefathers" kidding? And while we were at it - why 11, specifically? Why not 6, or 12, or even 13, which is always a favorite number in Judaism? We couldn't help think that 11 was such an arbitrary number. Did they know something we didn't? Or were they just full of it, making it up as they went along - like the rest of us. Or - what if we were the stupid ones, what if we misinterpreted it and it was suppose to be years, not months?

2013: The Year of the Month-Long Purim

Perhaps it's just us, but does Purim seem to have gotten hopped up on steroids this year?

The holiday is one day, yet it seems to have gone on forever.  In fact, the holiday has barely started and we're already Purim'd out.  How'd that happen?

We have some theories.



Exhibit One: Purim Carnivals going on for weeks.

For some reason, this is the year several people decided to hold Purim festivities on alternate dates in order to boost attendance.  After all, it's impossible to attend your school, synagogue, and local community center carnival all in one day!  So for practical purposes the dates were sandwiched before and after the holiday.  Of course, with Purim being redonculously early this year, the alternate dates fell over winter break, meaning no one would be around to celebrate, rendering the alternate date futile.  The solution? Push it back earlier.  The result?  Purim carnivals scattered from Feb 10th all the way to March 3rd.

Exhibit Two: Purim is super trendy this year.

For some reason, Purim was a hot topic this year.  Maybe it was the explosion of social media, generating Jew-envy amongst those forced to look at droolworthy picture after picture of hamentaschen on Pinterest.  Maybe it was the party and celebration invites being spread like wildfire.   Or maybe it was the intersection of Purim's relevance to current sentiments and values in our culture, inspiring articles such as Why I like Purim as a Queer, Secular Jew and this book on Jewish superheroes.  Regardless of the reason, you know it's trendy when secular entities like Bed & Bath and Slate are tweeting hamentaschen recipes.

Eclectic hamentaschen photos swept Facebook and Pinterest this year

#Purim was also hot topic on Twitter this year, with tweets every minute from all over the world.

We wonder if all the people tweeting this photo for #Purim even know who Haman was

Exhibit Three:  Increasing number of friends with children + Quality education in Jewish preschools + waitlists in public schools everywhere = more Purim costumes than ever before.

'Nuff said on that one.

What we'll be stylin' on Purim this year.  

So, to sum up, like the torture we endure when Christmas tzotchkes get put out before Halloween has even ended, Purim seems to be going the way of overkill as well.  We have to wonder, at what point does the holiday start to lose its impact?  That would be truly a shame, because it really is a great holiday.

Mini once asked us why we don't celebrate birthdays every day.  It would make every day special!  Or would it......

Simple, amateur hamantaschen.  Just right.

Happy Purim, peeps.  But not too happy, if you know what we mean.

The Good, the Bad, and The Dairy

We interrupt the seriousness of late to bring you a special edition of....Poker Chick in Israel!

Today's edition is a series of brief summary points.  Stay tuned for a longer post in a day or two.

The good
True to our disorganized spontaneous style, we took a last-minute opportunity to visit with family in Israel over the holiday weekend.  Good way to scope out places to bring the mini to next time.

We finally logged into email to find out that Condolence Call placed in yet another screenplay competition! Nice, random surprise.

Enjoying a typical Tel Aviv Shavuot agenda:
   11:30 brunch at Brasserie
   13:00 Gordon beach
   16:00 roof party 

The bad
Last minute ticket to Israel = most expensive middle coach seat you'll ever buy.

No advance plans means sleeping on an airbed with no blankets on a dirty living room floor with no shades on the windows. Oy.

The dairy
Landed just in time to make it to a special pre-Shavuot Shabbat dairy lunch with 12 of our closest cousins (5 of them children).   Mmmm.....blintzes......

The just-plain-odd
Spending time with a woman who lives in Immanuel.  Wow is life different there.

Looking for a pharmacy open on Shabbat (there are whole listings in the Tel Aviv paper devoted to this topic).   Still, it's a must.  Beach without sunscreen here = death wish.

Sitting here writing with windows open, busy street below, a cool breeze, and....wait, is that techno music we hear in the background!? Never mind, we're in Tel Aviv, that isn't odd at all.

The Schizophrenic Jew

As we made our Kosher for Passover meatloaf in a pan previously used to prepare a very dairy and wheaty zucchini cornbread just one week ago, it occurred to us that while American Jews are offered a variety of categories to self-identify with, as a culture we are sorely lacking a category for the "Schizophrenic Jew".

The above is a perfect example of the schizophrenia which we refer to.  Generally speaking, if you're keeping Kosher for Passover to the point of switching to Temp-Tee cream cheese for a week, you'll have a separate pan for Passover cooking.  Or at the very least have separate dishes for meat and dairy.  Obviously that was not the case in this example, which we shall refer to as "Proof point number one".

If you only consume this if it's Kosher for Passover, you might be a Schizophrenic Jew

 

What else makes one a Schizophrenic Jew? Many contradictions.  Perhaps you speak Hebrew but can barely read and write.  Perhaps you are currently affiliated with a Reform Synagogue despite an upbringing in a traditional Conservative one, as well as an Egalitarian Conservative one, plus stints in a Modern Orthodox shul abroad, and time spent with friends in a Reconstructionist one.*

The Schizophrenic Jew defines "Kosher" really loosely.  While it's more than just a kind of salt, it doesn't extend much further beyond avoiding pigs and shrimp.  Often it involves avoiding cheeseburgers, but waiting until the plain burger is finished and swallowed before drinking the milkshake.  This Jew may live a 100% secular life, having never observed Shabbat, yet makes a conscious effort to check work email more on Sunday vs. Saturday.

The Schizophrenic Jew may have one Seder or two, depending on how Israeli they want to declare themselves on any given year.  They may know all the "laws" in general yet pick and choose what to follow, and even within those that are chosen they can be changed when it's convenient, which brings us to "Proof point number two".  In this example, the subject in question searched all over for the cranberry sauce without corn syrup yet when eating an omelet at a diner did not ask what kind of oil it was cooked in, deciding to live in the delight of the "don't ask, don't tell" policy at that moment due to extreme hunger.

There are many other varieties of Schizophrenic Jews, but the easiest way to spot one is to ask what their religious affiliation is.  If the response you get is "I have no fucking idea," you know you've found a bona fide Schizophrenic Jew. 

Now, we've given you two double-blind randomized trials of American Jews behaving oddly in the absence of a way to identify with their Judaism.  Isn't it high time we legitimize this phenomena and give these peeps a community of their own? 

As always, you heard it here first.   Happy Passover, peeps.

*Hypothetically speaking, of course. 

Happy Chanukah. Did you just make that gelt from scratch?

One could call it dedication.  Wanting our daughter to have a bag of foil-wrapped chocolates like her friends in school tomorrow, we made some. 

However, one could also call it desperation.  Despite knowing that Chanukah was coming for weeks, and that her school would give out gelt, we did not order the safe chocolate in time to arrive for the party.  Of course, the party is a day earlier than we thought, but that's even worse. We write about allergies and planning for school celebrations all the time; we talk the talk but can't walk the walk?

So when school called asking what she would eat, we panicked.  Suddenly it dawned on us that why not make our own coins! How hard can it be? One quick trip to a store and $6 later we had molds and wrappers in hand.  A minor domestic miracle!

Dedication? Desperation? How 'bout just plain old procrastination. 

Happy Chanukah all!

Confessions from the Sanctuary, 2011

Now that Yom Kippur's over, it's time to note a few things we learned this holiday, mostly by accident.

While we did fast, we're always amused that many people who don't fast still enjoy the "break the fast" tradition.  Then again, we suppose one can't eschew a religious tradition that involves cake simply because of a small technicality of not fasting.  That wouldn't be very inclusive of us, now would it?

1. When you're spending $100 on lox while fasting because you suck at planning, pause to note both the hypocrisy of the event and the irony of seeing/smelling all that food while you can't have so much as a nibble. 
2. There are times, however, when exposing yourself to food on Yom Kippur is a good thing.  For example, feeding your father and your almost 86-year old uncle lunch so that they'll eat is a good thing.  Even if it feels like torture.
3. When you've gone 24 1/2 hours without food or drink (but who's counting!), and you're so lightheaded you're not thinking clearly, there will come a time when you simply cannot deal with your child's refusal to wear any of her decent shoes, and her suggestion to wear tap shoes because they look fancy will sound like a decent one.  Be smart.  Learn from our mistake and do NOT, we repeat NOT give in!  It will be a disaster at best.
4. Your second favorite moment of the day will be when your child takes out her toy shofar and blows as loudly as possible with a giant group of kids at the conclusion of neila*.  
5. Your favorite moment of the day will be finding out some bizarre family detail.  For example, for us, it was the fact that our "shul" bracelet belonged not to our grandmother, but our great grandmother.  Meaning mini's great-great grandmother wore it to her shul on Yom Kippur in 1920s Germany.  That just boggles the mind.
6. No one will tell you this, but the four questions were originally five.  The fifth question is: "why is it on all nights, we say the hamotzi quietly, but on THIS night the whole room practically screams the hamotzi with joy?" This question is asked by the "bored" child.

*For you non-Jewish peeps, neila is the concluding service of Yom Kippur.  The hamotzi is the blessing on bread which Jews say before a meal.  Interestingly, this explanation just gave away the answer to this question.

Sanctuary Thinking in Progress

Happy New Year Peeps!

Hope those of you celebrating had an enjoyable holiday and enjoyed some non-dry brisket.  We are currently working on our pseudo-annual "Notes from the Sanctuary" post so please feel free to send any and all suggestions. 

In the meantime, please to enjoy the archives.

Thoughts from the Sanctuary, Part II

or the original

Confessions from the Sanctuary

Adventures in Fruits & Vegetables

Day six

Breakfast: Green apple with some raw honey

Lunch: Green salad, tomato, cucumber, feta, olives, tossed with plain oil and vinegar

Snack: "Detox" juice made with carrot, cucumber, lemon, apple*

Dinner: Baked sweet potato, plain turkey burger, roasted brussels sprouts

No, we're not on a diet.  It's the Jewish low carb diet Passover, and there's two more full days to go.

In the meantime, while you're counting the minutes until you can order a pizza, please to enjoy this vintage Poker Chick commentary on Passover from three years ago. We were trying to write something new and witty, but really this pretty much says it all.


We Were Slaves in Egypt, and I'm Hungry, Dammit!

Oh, and Happy Easter to you peeps out there celebrating.  Enjoy your peeps and all that. (sorry, couldn't resist!)

*only because it was hot, we were hungry, and Pinkberry yogurt apparently contains rice starch. Evil torturers!

Egg-Free And Nut-Free Holidays

Hamentaschen, my idea.  Crown - all mini.

On the Other Hand....

There are peeps out there we love. It's Chanukah, and instead of the usual food stress surrounding holidays, Poker Chick is most grateful to those who have helped make a happy holiday even more special. In particular, a friend who not only checked in advance before inviting mini to a party, but re-configured the entire menu around the kid. We're talking making latkes and donuts with that "egg relacer" powder stuff, swapping ingredients in brisket sauce, and nixing the jelly beans her kid wanted. Every thing at this party will be safe for mini to eat.

Oh, and did she mention they are scrubbing and cleaning the whole kitchen before preparing any of this food?

It's so great to have friends like this. As long as mini keeps getting two of these experiences for every one miserable party, the balance will be on her side. So thanks, A. And thanks to all the friends reading this who Poker Chick knows would do the same. We couldn't do it without you.

Thoughts from the Sanctuary, Part II*

a.k.a. "They flocked like sheep..."

You're supposed to confess on Yom Kippur, holiest day of the year for us members of the tribe. You're supposed to lay it all out on the table, evil thoughts and whatnot, and forgive others so you can move forward in peace and all that blah blah.

Yeah, yeah. Poker chick was guilty of cynicism last year. She'll work on this. Really, she will.

But in the meantime, she's betting that many of you reading this shared similarly sacreligious thoughts. C'mon, 'fess up! You know you'll feel better. Then read this, so you can relax knowing others are even more deranged than you are.

Kol Nidre. It's the service that starts the holiday. Even the once-a-year Jews are there, meaning the temple is more packed during this one service than it will be any other time during the year.

Now as with many other things, the experience is uniquely intensified in New York. If you want to attend a Kol Nidre service, here's what you have to do:

1) Line up with hundreds of other people in suits in the special tents that take over any sidewalk space touching the temple. Walk slowly around the red velvet dividers as if you're waiting to ride Space Mountain. Watch laypeople stare at this sight with amusement. Make growly faces at them.

2) Go through the first set of NYPD officers. Pass.

3) Get to temple volunteers. Show tickets for everyone. Pass.

4) Go through the next round of security. Private security guards with those cool secret service earthingies. Open your pockets, bags, diaper bags for full inspection. Pass.

5) Get your seat. Fidget endlesslessly as there is less legroom than even economy class seats.

Eventually, the service begins - and somehow on time. This is when you're supposed to pay attention. This is also when your mind starts wandering.

"Wow, I wonder how many people are in this room! It's gotta be a thousand or more!"

"What's with the cello? I thought the cantor was supposed to sing this portion?"

(counting heads): "One, two, three, four......"

"I can't believe I didn't make the cake yet. 15 people coming for Break the Fast tomorrow and I'm going to have to cook while fasting. Again. Hey G-D, can you help me to plan in advance next year? Hey! That's one thing I can work on! Look at that, I'm already paying attention!"

"Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty....."

Tire of cantor's repitition and flip through the pages to see how much longer is left for tonight.

"Three hundred seventy-eight, three hundred seventy-nine, three hundred eighty...."

"I'm so thirsty. How am I not going to drink until tomorrow night? How did I do this before? How does everyone else look so calm? Aren't they thirsty?"

"Seriously. What's with the cello? What happened to not being allowed to not play this stuff on the Sabbath?"

"My head hurts. Oh cr*p, what if it becomes a bad headache? Do I take tylenol? How much water can I sip with tylenol before feeling guilty? What do the books say on that?"

"What the heck does Superman have to do with Yom Kippur?" (sermon reference)

"What are those people doing? They keep moving around. You're supposed to be paying attention, peeps!"

Pause to note irony of criticizing others in your head while struggling to pay attention yourself. Make mental note to atone for this tomorrow.

"Nine hundred one, Nine hundred two, Nine hundred three"

"Cr*p. I lost count. One, two, three...."

Finally, it's time to go home. As you wade through the NYPD officers blockading the building once more, you try to decide whether this massive police presence is comforting or creepy. After all, NYC is full of Jews. Is this really necessary?

Then you do the math:

1,000 Jews in one room + NYC location = Bin Laden's wet dream.

Guess we'll go with comforting after all. Thanks, NYPD. Keep up the good Jew-herding work!


*Click here to read Part I.

Jews, they're just like us

The funny thing about Israel is that everyone looks familiar. Not that it's not a diverse country, it is - you see every skin color and then some and once you get past the weirdness of an asian woman opening her mouth and speaking hebrew it's cool.

But still, take a look at all the white people and they all look like someone you know. Keep looking and after a while you realize it's because where the majority of the white population is Jewish. And if you believe the statistics, one of every six (or four, depending who you read) of these people is related to you or your Aunt Sadie.

For those of you (that would be everyone) used to being a minority population in your country, this concept is a bit mind-boggling when you stop to think about it. A whole country when even the most secular of people refers to their Saturday night parties as those on "motzei Shabbat". It's pretty freakin' awesome.


Now let's talk about the beach. For the geographically challenged, Israel sits on the eastern shore of the Mediterranean. Here are some fun facts, with some help from Wikipedia. First, you should know that large islands in the Mediterranean include Cyprus, Crete, Euboea, Rhodes, Lesbos, Chios, Kefalonia and Corfu in the eastern Mediterranean; Sardinia, Corsica, Sicily, and Malta in the central Mediterranean; and Ibiza, Majorca and Minorca in the western Mediterranean.

1. The Mediterranean climate is generally one of wet, cold winters and hot, dry summers. Crops of the region include olives, grapes, oranges, tangerines, and cork. A souvenir gift for the first person who can tell Poker Chick what a "cork" crop is.
2. Being nearly landlocked affects the Mediterranean Sea's properties; for instance, tides are very limited as a result of the narrow connection with the Atlantic Ocean.
3. The Mediterranean is characterized and immediately recognized by its deep blue color. Behold, a picture of the blue sea wherever we can put it near this text. Regrettably, the good ones are still in the camera. Yeah, uh, that's the story.
4. Evaporation is especially high in its eastern half, causing the water level to decrease and salinity to increase eastward. This makes sense to Poker Chick, as she can tell you it's a salty sea. You can smell it in the air from three blocks aways.

If Poker Chick had more than 2/3 of one (out of three total) battery packs left on her camera, she'd show you the funny splotchy sunburn on her foot. Like a splash of burn. But she can't so you'll have to imagine it.

The funny thing about the beach is that it's almost impossible to find an American these days there anymore. It's all Europeans - a lot of Brits and French, a smattering of Germans, Spanish and others. Americans are not so much loved in this (or any) part of the world, and Poker Chick has never seen it in full force like this.

Now, to answer the first question, why are there no Americans? Because in case you hadn't noticed the dollar is in the toilet, peeps. Fellow ad friends have seen the effects as the tried and true international shoot is slowly becoming a thing of the past. Fashion friends can no longer afford such luxuries as Prada and Louis Vuitton. International friends obviously had this realization before yours truly.

But it's true. Look at everyone else in their Dior sunglasses, and you realize.....we've become poor! And the rest of the world is becoming richer as we obliviously watch clips like "The cutest puppies in America" on "morning news" programs. Know what you get when you turn on the news here? Take a guess, c'mon. That's right! It's......REAL news! Imagine that. Now imagine all the people 'round the world pitying us ignorant Americans as we eat our McDonald's and pet our pooches.

Poker Chick is by no means unpatriotic, but it is......embarrassing. We need to get our act together and wake up and realize the world is much bigger than we are and the days of the American empire are over. Thanks, G.W. Swell job.

Loyal readers should stay tuned for more. Coming up.....tales of Jerusalem and the yuppification of Tel Aviv.

We were slaves in Egypt, and I'm hungry dammit!!!

Poker Chick is not a fan of Passover. Well, let's rephrase. She likes the first two days. But it's the days after that suck. You're at work and you can't buy a bagel on your way. No sandwich for lunch. No Tasti-Di-Lite on the way home. And if you're traveling you're just SOL. If you're like Poker Chick (who hates matzah), it makes for a great Jewish version of the low-carb diet.

But this year is feeling different already. Sure, the hunger is still there (the asparagus-dill soup she spent an entire day cooking isn't quite cutting it). But it's been put into context. This year, Poker Chick was reminded of some spiritual theory behind Passover (Pesach). Here's the shocking reminder: It's supposed to feel restrictive!! We were slaves in Egypt for g-d's sake! So for eight (or seven) days you're supposed to suffer a little so you can be reminded that your people had it hard some several thousand years ago. You want we should suffer? We'll tell you how to make a Jew suffer: you limit their food options. Yep, we teach em young: us Jews are all about the food and the money (another fact Poker Chick was reminded of as she watched the mini in her first real negotiations for the Afikoman).

That's right, Poker Chick just used a cheap stereotype for a quick laugh. (Stop laughing if you're not Jewish. It makes you an anti-semite). But seriously, there is a cleansing component to Passover we often overlook. So this year, with renewed optimism, Poker Chick decided to take a slightly less negative approach to Pesach this year. It's an experiment. She doesn't usually do optimism.

So here are several themes to Passover she has been reminding herself of:

1. It's not supposed to be a week of binge-eating. If "suffering" for Poker Chick is taking away bread for a few days, then she's got it pretty damn good. And she'd better remember how spoiled she is and appreciate it. Moral point one, check! Bonus points for donating food to the homeless!
   
2. If you live in Israel you already know to associate Passover with spring. If you don't, you may or may not realize it always gets warm and sunny right before Passover. Spring may be on the calendar late March, but it never really arrives until just before the holiday and this year was no different. Passover was "late" and so was the warm weather. Here in New York, we had temps in the 40s and then suddenly a beautiful 80-degree day right before. As if mother nature was announcing: "Ok peeps! It's finally time for Passover now!" Yes, that's exactly what she said. "Peeps". So not the point. Just accept it and move on. Spring and sun make this girl happy. Then again, so do the two pairs of sunglasses she recently bought in preparation for the summer.
   
3. Spring is an opportunity to clean house. So as we focus less on food, we are free to do things we've been neglecting like switch our closets, dust off the resume, that sort of thing.
   
4. Spring is also an opportunity to "clean inner house" i.e. our soul (hold cheesy comments, please). We get to examine bad habits and relationships, re-connect with friends and family as we wish them a happy holiday, and reconnect to our faith as well.
   
5. If nothing else, it's an eight day reminder of how we're different than everyone else. She can't think of any other religion that wouldn't recoil from horror at finger puppets of "boils" and "lice". But not us. We give them to kiddies and laugh together.
   

One day in and Poker Chick is already feeling spiritually superior to three days ago. Case in point: one of the bad mental habits Poker Chick is trying to fix is thinking of Passover as an annoyance. Then again, it helps that she recently scored a fridge in her office. So today she was free to stock it with supplies like cherry tomatoes, cheese, fruit, and jelly and butter for the occasional matzah. Mmmm....butter. Maybe this Passover thing's not so bad.

On a Serious Note...

The 15th marks the Yarzheit of Poker Chick's mother. Oh wait, no it's not. It's her birthday. Correction. It was her birthday. On an August 15th, she came into the world. On a May 3rd, she left it. But we don't acknowledge birthdays after someone's gone. Why the heck is that? After all, if your mother died on a May 3rd, wouldn't you rather forget that day rather than be haunted years later by visions of finding her "expired"* in her bed? Wouldn't you rather celebrate her life? But apparently that's not how it works. You're supposed to think of them on their "Yarzheit". So this leaves Poker Chick feeling confounded and alone on August 15th. There's no candle to light. No service to attend. Just constant guilt and confusion, feeling like you should be doing something else, something other than pretending today is just any other day (for example, Big Boy is celebrating the day by getting a repeat thyroid biopsy; the first one was suspicious or non-diagnostic or whatever term doctors like to give it when they f*cked up).

Why is this? After years of life, why is it that we only remember people on the day they died? Can someone please explain this to Poker Chick?


*This was the term the doctors and nurses used. You think Poker Chick'd make that sh*t up?