notquiteisraeli: (tof miriam)
We ended up doing Pesach with Orit and Aharon. It's not a bad thing - just very, very long. Why is it so long?

Well, it's my nephew Elad. See, he likes to make long drashot (loosely translated - sermons) on every tiny little point in the haggadah. He has them planned.

I love Elad to death, but...yeah. Seders with Michal (Eyal's cousin) and Nahum go shorter, not because they cut anything out, but because they cut way down on drashot. The ones that Nahum makes are short, to the point, and full of dad jokes. It's entertaining. Elad is deadly earnest.

That aside, I generally like doing Pesach with Orit and Aharon. My father-in-law is there, and he's a soothing presence. Orit is a warm, welcoming hostess. Aharon has a truly generous heart. Sima, Aharon's sister, is there, and she is my icon - smart, funny, warm-hearted, and kind. Ilana, Aharon's mother is there, and she's delightfully salty and gives zero fucks. Nati, Orit's youngest, is always entertaining. And the singing is gorgeous - Iraqi Jewish melodies sung by Aharon and Elad, who both have haunting tenor voices.

The food can't be beat, either. Pesach schnitzel, bakhsh (Bukhari style rice with herbs and meat), tahdig (another rice dish), matzoh ball soup, grilled salmon...yup, Orit knows how to put on a spread.

Still, we cut out at midnight - and no, the seder wasn't over, just the meal. But Eyal was exhausted, and we had an hour and a half to drive.

Eyal was proud of me. I was given a part to read, and read it well. Sima praised my singing. My nieces all showered my outfit and makeup with compliments ("Pink is your color!"). But I think I summed it up when I said this at the seder:

"ב"ה אנחנו יכולים כאן ביחד"

"Baruch HaShem we can be here together."

That's something everyone agreed on.

חג פסח שמח

Chag Sameach!
notquiteisraeli: (queen of cups)
I saw my therapist yesterday. I told him that - despite having action plans and timetables - I was feeling a distinct letdown after finishing CELTA. And I also told him that I knew it was going to happen, dammit!

He reassured me that it was perfectly natural. And he encouraged me to give myself exactly one week of grace, to feel the letdown. During that time, keep up with household chores and work on writing up a weekly structured schedule, but nothing else. Give myself time to feel.

After that week, take action.

Strangely, I felt heartened. Something about allowing myself to feel something instead of just trying to plow through it.

****

I've been on a cooking kick to cheer myself up. Eyal is indulging it...not that it isn't to his advantage. He recently sanctioned the purchase of cake pans, a lemon zester, a double boiler, and a set of whisks. He's also agreed to a KitchenAid Stand Mixer and a new air fryer (the latter is a necessity, as our current air fryer is five years old and on its last legs), to be purchased on Sunday, along with (finally!) a new television.

See, Eyal loves my cooking. No matter what. Not that I've ever fucked up too horribly, but he loves all my creations. And I've never thought of myself as a good cook. Good baker, yes - I have an instinctive touch with baking and I've been turning out tasty baked goods since my teenage years. But cook? I've always thought of myself as merely adequate as a cook - good enough, but not outstanding.

But lately I'm realizing that I'm pretty good. I make my own spice blends. I can think on my feet and problem-solve. I don't mind the tedious repetitive jobs, as long as I have good music playing. And I get genuine pleasure from Eyal's enjoyment of my creations. Maybe that's what makes a good cook.

****

Next week: shopping trip to Big (that's literally the name of the shopping center) for kitchen gadgets and television, gaming night Wednesday, and Friday morning to Tel Aviv to take my father-in-law to the Israel Philharmonic. On the program: Haydn, Beethoven, and Mozart. The latter two are his favorite composers, and the Mozart piece (Symphony No. 41, "Jupiter") is Eyal's favorite. It's also a nice call back for me, as I saw Emanuel Ax perform the same piece he's performing (Beethoven's Piano Concerto No. 3) in 1992 with the Boston Symphony at Tanglewood. Mind you, at the time he was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt (summer in the Berkshires can be a wee bit chilly at times, and it was a rehearsal), but it was no less magical for all that.

And by next Thursday I'll have a weekly schedule ready to hash out with my therapist.
notquiteisraeli: (pinkie pie fun)
Oh, yes, the cake is real. I baked it from scratch. I made the icing from scratch. And today we presented it to my father-in-law, whose birthday is tomorrow. He's turning 82.

We also told him about his present - in April, we're taking him to see the Israel Philharmonic, followed by lunch at the restaurant of his choice. He was delighted. We had an excellent afternoon, eating the cake (it turned out amazingly well) and drinking coffee.

It wasn't easy to make. I don't have a mixer (and I told Eyal that if he wants me to bake again, there will be a KitchenAid stand mixer - I said I'd go halfsies, and he finally agreed when I promised challah every week). So the butter and sugar for both cake and icing were creamed by hand, which is not impossible but is a tremendous workout.

That being said, both cake and icing are fairly simple as recipes go - a yellow cake with chocolate buttercream icing. Including recipe here.

Yellow Cake With Chocolate Buttercream Frosting )
notquiteisraeli: (witch with a b)
I got back my third paper from my CELTA program. I need to resubmit. Fair enough.

I had planned to rewrite it today, but that got derailed by a nasty headache. Not a migraine thank heavens (excruciating head pain is bad enough without visions and hallucinations), but a killer tension headache. And yes, reasons (other than CELTA) exist. The state of the world, for one. Also family drama. (Mine, not Eyal's.)

Treating a tension headache is somewhat different from a migraine. For one thing, caffeine isn't in the cards. However, lying down in a cool, dark room definitely is. With the help of a 16 pound ginger cat as a weighted blanket, things settled. The pain gradually ebbed, Cheddar wandered off, and the situation at home returned to DEFCON 5.

Eyal returned home from the office, and we resolved the family drama (as much as it likely will be). See, my family listens to him. He left afterward for his weekly role-playing campaign.

I talked to a trusted family member who isn't part of the drama for awhile. After that I headed upstairs. Still tense.

Well, one great remedy would be a hot shower. I flipped on the water heater. While it warmed up the water, I made notes on rewriting my CELTA paper. I may not have gotten it done today, but at least I know what I'm going to do.

The shower was great. Seriously. It was my day for exfoliating, so I scooped out Dove Crushed Cherries & Chia Milk Body Scrub and applied it with an exfoliating mitt. After the requisite soap, shampoo, conditioner, drying off, etc. I returned to my office to get to my evening routine with various lotions and potions. I feel much better. Tomorrow I'll be ready to face my paper and rewrite it to standards.
notquiteisraeli: (queen of cups)
Preparations started at 12.30. True, the concert (Toscanini String Quartet) started at 17.00, but we wanted to have a leisurely meal first. So we both took showers, then retreated to our separate dressing quarters and getting-ready-routines. I picked out my outfit first: tan wide-leg pants, floral tee, green cardigan, black loafers. I picked out the accessories then - and wore only my anniversary gifts from Eyal in addition to my wedding set (matching malachite pendant and earrings set in silver, and simple watch on a black leather band). After that, the shower.

Of course, I put my face on then. Date nights require a nice face.

Primer: L'Oréal Age Perfect Blurring Face Primer in 00 Rosy
Mascara: L'Oréal Voluminous Original Mascara in Black Brown
Eyebrow gel: L'Oréal Infallible Brows in Blonde
Highlighter: L'Oréal Lumi Glotion in Fair
Tinted Moisturizer: L'Oréal Lumi Le Glow Tint in Fair
Concealers: Milani Conceal + Perfect in 01 Rose and Maybelline Instant Age Rewind Eraser in 95
Blush: L'Oréal Lumi Le Liquid Blush in 605 Dewy Bright Pink
Lip Pencil: Rimmel Lasting Finish Lip Liner in Nude
Lipstick: Revlon Super Lustrous Lipstick in 778 Pink Promise

Quick spritzing of Jo Malone London White Moss & Snowdrop. Then I dressed and was ready.

Eyal was looking quite dapper: burgundy long sleeved polo shirt, muted green slacks, and brown jacket. He also smelled lovely, with the addition of my early birthday present, Jo Malone London English Oak & Hazelnut.

We were off. We made good time to the restaurant (Indira), and had a scrumptious late lunch. After that we headed to HaTarbut, the home of the Israel Philharmonic. The concert took place in the smaller auditorium, and we had seats right on the stage. There are advantages to purchasing tickets well in advance.

The quartet had amazing chemistry, and when they added a guest violist for Mozart's String Quintet, the chemistry stayed strong. Late Beethoven - the first piece was one of his late quartets - is not for everyone, so the Mozart quintet served as a nice palate cleanser. Afterward we managed to find the car and get out of the parking garage without too much trouble.

We visited my father-in-law next. He was very glad to see us. We chatted about music, movies, and my teaching course. He served us cake and coffee, and after an hour and a half, we hugged him, said goodbye, and headed home.

A most satisfactory day. My makeup is off now - Pond's Cold Cream is a godsend - and I've done my evening routine. Bed soon. Back to the grind tomorrow, but all in all, a great anniversary date.
notquiteisraeli: (fluttershy friendship and kindness)
1. Game night! Much fun and laughter. There was pizza (good pizza, which is not easy to find). There were plenty of drinks, most non-alcoholic, though there was beer for those who wanted it (and no one overdid it). And there was Munchkin. There were five of us: Peter and Regev (Eyal's coworkers), Esti (Regev's girlfriend), and Eyal and I. Only Peter and I had previously played Munchkin, but everyone got into it quickly. We agreed at the end of the evening that yes, it would happen again. Yay!

2. Chanukah is currently ongoing. It's pretty low-key in Israel. We don't do presents, just traditional food (latkes, sufganiyot, and dairy foods - the latter a Sephardic custom I've adopted since moving to Israel). Candles, of course. And songs. But that's it. We had planned to go to Tel Aviv last Thursday night and do Chanukah with Alon, Sarah, and the boys. However, Sarah texted me that afternoon to let me know that the boys were sick, so it would be better if we stayed home. Sad face.

3. This week is Eyal's birthday week. Tomorrow night: a comedy show in Tel Aviv and dinner at a Chinese restaurant. Wednesday is his actual birthday. He has to go into the office, but I'll be sending him in with his birthday cake. Saturday night we'll head up to Modi'in for the family party at Orit's.

4. A week from tomorrow I have my cardiologist appointment. And the day after, I start my teacher training. Goodbye, social life.
notquiteisraeli: (fluttershy friendship and kindness)
Alon, my brother-in-law, turned 50 recently. Our birthday present: pay for a date night for him and Sarah, and babysit their two boys while they were gone. Alon promptly named this the Best Birthday Present EverTM, and we made arrangements to come up to Tel Aviv a week ago to babysit the boys while they went out.

I like to think that HaShem was smiling on us for doing a good deed, because traffic on the drive to Tel Aviv was surprisingly light. At rush hour. Keep in mind that half-hour traffic jams on the Ayalon Highway (the major highway that transverses around the major cities of the Central District and leads to Tel Aviv) are considered no big deal. We were a bit surprised.

We even arrived a bit early. Now, Eyal had never babysat his nephews before, but I have some experience here. We did not come unarmed. We brought the card game Taki (think the Israeli version of Uno) and a deck of regular playing cards, as well as a package of Krembo (a Mallomar-like confection much beloved of Israeli children in general and of our nephews in particular).

Soon Alon and Sarah were out the door, and said they'd be back between 10:30 and 11:00. Sarah instructed us: no more than one Krembo apiece for the boys, bedtime at 9:00. It was 7:00 when they left, and Avraham and Yosef quickly gobbled up their one Krembo apiece (I've seen hyena feeding frenzies less gleeful).

We all settled into our activities. Avraham and Eyal concentrated on building some intricate Lego structure. Yosef and I played cards.

About an hour and a half in, Yosef asked if they could have another Krembo.

"No, your mom said only one each," I replied.
"Saba lets us have all we want," he rejoined.
"We're not saba," said Eyal, and fortunately, they didn't push it.

We let them have ten minutes of screentime and then put them to bed at 9:00 with very little fuss. Yosef and Avraham are very well-behaved boys for the most part, and also very sweet-tempered and affectionate.

Alon and Sarah arrived home at 10:40, by which time the boys were dead asleep. Big hugs all around - they were very grateful - and Eyal and I headed back to Beersheva, with one pit stop to put air in the tires, get gas, and grab a drink. Again, traffic was light, especially on Highway 6 (the major north-south artery to and from the Negev region), though that was mainly the late hour. We made it home by 12:30 and promptly sacked out.

I think there will be more of these. Really, the only pain in the ass is the commute - the boys are a joy.
notquiteisraeli: (applejack work and school)
1. My interview with CELTA Athens went well, and they offered me a place in the course starting January 7. I have made a down payment on tuition to guarantee my spot. Yay!

2. Saw the cardiologist. Dr. Slutsky (stop giggling) treats a lot of young women, which is a plus. He ordered a stress echo so he can see the extent of the damage - if any - and decide how to prevent future damage. He specifically said that he avoids invasive testing unless absolutely necessary - a good thing. Blood tests have also been ordered. (If you think his name is funny, imagine the fun Israelis have with the name "Zona"...which is Hebrew for "whore".)

3. My brother-in-law Alon had his 50th birthday party, which was a romp. Good food, cake, sufganiyot, and lots of laughter. He's usually a pretty serious guy, so it was nice to see him loosen up and smile. The last time I saw him loosen up like this was at our wedding. He went out of his way to tell me that our present was the best present he could think of (we gave Alon and Sarah enough money to pay for a date night and volunteered to babysit the boys). Also he imitated a parrot that he knew when he was a kid that had interesting vocabulary. (The boys were out of earshot by then.) Hearing Alon croaking "Maniak! Maniak!" had everyone cracking up. (Maniak means "fucker".) All in all, a great night, well worth the drive to and from Tel Aviv.

4. Today I received a pre-order copy of Az Nashir: We Will Sing Again. It's an anthology of Israeli women's prayers written since October 7, in Hebrew and English. My friend Rachel Sharansky Danziger was one of the editors and contributors. It's really wonderful - a worthy addition to the Jewish tradition of women's private devotions.

5. On order: the Twin Peaks Tarot.

6. Eyal and I have already made our anniversary plans: we're seeing the Toscanini String Quartet in Tel Aviv. Strangely, my therapist was surprised when I told him, saying he didn't realize we were so much into classical music. Well, we are. Very, very, much. Particularly chamber music. A favorite of ours? Beethoven's cello trios, as performed by Daniel Barenboim (pig!), Pinchas Zukerman (cute smile!), and Jacqueline du Pre (team Jackie!).

7. On Wednesday, Eyal asked me if I'd ever heard of a card game called Munchkin. Long story short, a game night involving one of his co-workers and a couple other friends is in the works.
notquiteisraeli: (hannah at prayer)
1. I don't like it when people are too certain. They have a tendency to make the facts fit their certainties. Which is uncomfortable if you're one of those facts, as the Fourth Doctor pointed out. Personally, I find it a great relief to be able to say, "I don't know." I know things that I would like to be true. I know things that I hope will happen. But I try very hard not to confuse them with the way things are.

2. Interview for CELTA tomorrow. Wish me luck.

3. Cardiologist appointment Tuesday. Also wish me luck. But hey, if I need a stent, Eyal can do it! (Seriously, I'm kidding...but he did design the software to train cardiologists in how to put in stents. And pacemakers. Also how to do cardiac ablations and angioplasty.)

4. My nephews Yosef and Avraham called me last night to sing me Happy Birthday (it was my birthday on the Hebrew calendar) and tell me how much they loved me. If anything could heal my heart instantly, that would be it. I love those boys to bits.

5. I have replaced the hair dryer that shat the bed last week. I am slowly ticking off the items on my to-do list.
notquiteisraeli: (tof miriam)
Prepping for family gatherings - largely holidays, but also birthday parties and other such occasions - is hard work.

Let me clarify. If Eyal and I are merely dropping by for a visit with my father-in-law, then it is not hard work. I will dress and groom myself neatly and with care, but I can forego makeup and other such accoutrements. However, family gatherings are a different beast. Women at family gatherings are expected to look elegant. The expectation: make-up, jewelry, perfume, and a dress or skirt outfit or pantsuit with appropriate shoes.

Yeah. I did do a decent job for Sukkot this time. I'll detail all that at the end of this post, under a cut, for those who get bored with such things.

The ride up to Modi'in was smooth. And the holiday? A lovely one. Sukkot, by the way, is when we build temporary booths, decorate them, and eat in them. There's also the theme of the wheat harvest. And shaking a bundle of branches and a citron. I would go into the meaning, but I'm not the greatest at explaining. Here are some links:

Sukkot Resources from Aish

Sukkot Resources from Chabad

We ate in the sukkah, and as usual there was more than enough to feed an army: asado, meatballs, schnitzel, rice, challah, and homemade pavlova for dessert. Om nom nom. After eating we drank mint tea, as is the custom.

We welcomed Avraham Avinu as the first guest of the holiday (yep, the Abraham of the Bible).

And we talked. Harel is about to start basic training as a combat soldier. Ta'el turns fourteen soon. Elinor told me how much she still loves the Sephora products we got her. Nati worked off his energy by kicking a soccer ball around the yard after dinner, but made sure to come over and hug me and Eyal more than once. He's a sweet boy, a truly gentle soul. My father-in-law looked much better. Orit was the ultimate hostess. We might celebrate our birthdays together - they're really close.

We lingered fairly late, but when Nati began to yawn and droop, we took the hint, said our goodbyes and hugged everyone, and set off.

Now I'm in my pajamas. And for those interested, the beauty details are below.

Takes a lot of money to look this cheap )
notquiteisraeli: (twilight sparkle magic)
1. Family call today. My cousin Ruth begged me to come back to the States. I love Ruth, but it ain't happening.

2. Besides, about the only unsafe thing that has happened to me this week? I fell out of bed this morning. My head hit the sliding glass door, cracking it; the rest of me hit the tile floor. No concussion, fortunately. However, my entire left side is achy as fuck. Especially my shoulder and hip, which took the most impact. Paracetamol has helped get it down to a dull roar. Resting and snuggling with Cheddar has also brought some relief.

3. While Beersheva has not been hit with rockets, our other friends further north have not been so lucky. Mutzi's town, Kiryat Bialik, was hit. Currently he's taking refuge with his brother.

4. The memes. Oh, the memes. They just did not stop. If you're a terrorist group, it's just not a good idea to buy a fuckload of pagers from totallynotthemossad.co.il. Same goes for walkie-talkies.

5. Mind you, we do get blamed for shit we don't do. I mean, Nasrallah probably blames us every time he gets jock itch.

6. I have ordered a CD burner and blank CDs. So...bearing in mind I have three mixes in varying stages of construction, let me know if you want one! I can't promise timely delivery, between not knowing when I'll get my stuff, not to mention the absolutely crap service with Israel Post, but you will get them.
notquiteisraeli: (sailor moon)
1. Today I got my student loans out of default. We'll see just how much they judge I should pay in the Income Driven Repayment Plan. I can tell you that I'm hoping it won't be much, given that my monthly income is ₪4250 (or, if you prefer, $1125.98). It would be lower if the Department of Education knew about the insane cost of living in Israel (even though Beersheva has the lowest cost of living of any major city in Israel, this is not in any way to imply it is low compared to, say, Glens Falls, NY). Still, there's a light at the end of this tunnel, and it ain't the 8:30 express.

2. I gifted Eyal cologne. I felt him out about it first, because he didn't really wear it when we were dating even though he owned a few different bottles. He said that he used to wear it on dates and special occasions, but then his mother died and he wasn't permitted to wear it during the first 30 days of mourning. Then the pandemic hit before he could start dating again. By the time we met during the second lockdown, we were meeting in his apartment. He'd shower diligently, and shave, but cologne was off the radar. That is what he told me when I asked him if he would wear cologne if I gave it to him. So he was open to it. I got him English Oak & Hazelnut and Cypress & Grapevine Cologne Intense from Jo Malone. He doesn't like lightweight scents on himself (though, interestingly, he likes them on me and prefers extremely femme floral scents to lightweight unisex scents on me).

3. We played Truth or Drink with grape juice and one of the questions was "tell me about the one who got away." I simply said one word: Balázs. Eyal knew.

4. This weekend we're taking my father-in-law out to lunch at Indira, a super Indian restaurant in Tel Aviv. My father-in-law really likes Indian food, so yay. He has quite the spice tolerance for an Ashkenazi Jewish man...but maybe that helped him survive marriage to an old school Bukhari woman. And they were married for almost 50 years.

5. We talked to my father-in-law recently and asked what he was doing. Swimming three times a week, yoga, and hanging out with his friends at the community center. Sometimes his friend Yehuda comes over and they'll each nurse a beer while watching the footy match. I think that's not bad for 81. He still drives, although we don't like him driving at night. Eyal asked him if he wouldn't like to go on a pensioners' tour aka geezer trip to Italy or Greece, and he was not interested. Not even the temptation of uneven numbers (that is, there are a lot more grannies on these trips than grandpas) tempts him. He's not interested in dating again, and Eyal's mom has been gone almost five years. That's okay, though. I can understand - maybe she was the only one for him. And that's actually amazing.
notquiteisraeli: (Default)
Ah, this afternoon. It was going semi-okay. I'd worked on an application and polished the old CV a bit. I'd cooked and eaten a pleasant enough lunch. I'd spent quality time with Cheddar on my lap.

I called my mom. It's hard to get her after the morning, what with her remote German class through the University of Florida as well as her usual baking, knitting, errands, and other stuff with my aunt Beth. So I was timing it carefully.

I got her. She was drinking her coffee. I told her about how absolutely awful antisemitic things were getting out in the media lately.

What does she say? She yells at me for bringing it up. See, she's spending the next 56 days not watching the news, she can't even think about the election, and she can't even think about The Situation in Israel, and by the way, now I've ruined her day, which was definitely going to be a good day.

Oh, hell no.

"Some of us don't have that luxury," I said quietly.

She hung up.

Well, fine.

I don't have the luxury. I live 31 miles from Gaza. Hell, even my psychiatrist doesn't have the luxury: he's treating soldiers at Soroka. I can stay off social media, but I do not have the luxury to bury my head in the sand.

*sigh*

Of course, it's All About Her.
notquiteisraeli: (alice and dorothy)
Expect me to use this icon if I bring up a conversation or experience with my cousin Ruth. For the record, we both agreed: she's Dorothy and I'm Alice.

And we both look good in blue.

Last family call my brother wasn't there. My uncle couldn't be there because my aunt is in the hospital. My mom had to bow out early to attend an afternoon event. So it was just the two of us.

Along with updating on our current lives (her job is good, her home life...well, it's home life; I'm not always coping with a war zone and horrific news in the healthiest of ways) we dished. I revealed some interesting tidbits about my first marriage (I'll spare you, but she hadn't known he was that big of an asshole). And then we got to talking about our moms.

Because it always goes there. I mean, both of us were emotionally neglected by our moms. She's estranged from hers. I'm not estranged from mine, but that takes a lot of boundary setting and enforcement. I was raised by a narcissistic mom, she was raised by a borderline mom. And I'm a borderline myself, albeit one with a fuckton of therapy under my belt and a smidgen of self-awareness, while my aunt has, as Kenneth Branagh so marvelously and bitchily put it in the film Peter's Friends, all the self-awareness of Zsa Zsa Gabor.

I don't know if we accomplish much, but we both felt better after.

Today my mom came up in conversation again. I mentioned to Eyal that I had played boys a couple of times for plays during elementary school. He was confused. Why would I play boys? I pointed out that it was because I could be counted on to remember lines, and had a boyish haircut.

He got mad.

"Why did your mom let your Bubbe cut your hair like that?" he growled.

"Mom said she had to pick her battles," I said. Which was true. Bubbe was giving my mom quite a bit of financial and other support. Money talks.

"This is a hill she should have died on," Eyal said.

Maybe so. But Bubbe was determined to spoil my looks. She refused to put sunscreen on me and cut off my blonde hair.

It must burn her that in Israel, I'm actually considered fairly pretty.

I thank heavens Ruth never went through any of that. Her looks were never in doubt. Unfortunately, our family neatly set up the "pretty one/smart one" rivalry. Took us until our twenties to realize what a bunch of shit that was.

Alice and Dorothy aren't any prettier or smarter than each other, after all. Just different. Similarly lost in worlds they don't understand, but entirely different people. I just wish that Oz and Wonderland were a lot closer.
notquiteisraeli: (alice side eye)
My mother is mad at me. Usually I'd be concerned, or upset, or something, because I don't in general like it when my mom is mad at me. This time, I really couldn't give a shit.

She's mad because I implied that she plays favorites and I'm not among them. Evidence: She has visited Germany (where my brother lives) five times. She has visited Israel zero times. Oh, sure, the whole war thing was her reason for noping out of my wedding - but she never once visited before the war, during which time she visited my brother four times.

In contrast, her estranged sister, my aunt Susan, flew to Israel to see me married. Eyal's family all made it (granted, no one had more than a 45 minute drive, BUT STILL).

And no, I don't hold a grudge against the rest of my family for not visiting. They don't visit Ben either because they can't afford it. My mom only cries poor when it comes to visiting me. And yes, I know, the war - but Susan flew in with the war going on, and it didn't seem to bother her any.

Anyway. I didn't do much more than imply, but she got het up about it, and now she's giving me the silent treatment. Whatever. Honestly I don't think she really does want to visit at all. Every time I've suggested, she puts up objections.

"There are no direct flights from Orlando or Tampa."
"But there aren't any to Munich, either. You can fly out of JFK or Miami."
"I can't afford a hotel."
"Eyal and I can help you with accommodation."
"There are no accessible hotels."
"Here's a list of accessible hotels and AirBnBs."
"I can't get around the Old City."
"My tour guide friend can arrange for a golf cart tour."
"What about Yad VaShem?"
"I can arrange an accessible tour with my tour guide friend."
"There's nothing to do in Beersheva."
"There's the Air Force Museum, Abraham's Well, the ANZAC Memorial, the Negev Museum of Art, and the Eliyahu Levant Chess Center. You can have a good meal at Bialik 26 and there are plenty of other accessible restaurants. Plus I can cook for you, or if you want to cook for yourself, all the grocery stores deliver."

And so on. Yes, she has physical difficulties, but she is not intellectually disabled or helpless. These are all things she can solve or arrange on her own. How do I know she doesn't want to visit?

Because this is what I did when I didn't want to do something. I thought of every reason possible why it couldn't happen. Don't bullshit a bullshitter.

Whatever. Mom's made her choice. Unless I pay for her to fly over, then pay to set her up in luxury, then pay for everything else, she won't come see me. It's just not important to her.
notquiteisraeli: (alice side eye)
Something I've noticed that's uncomfortably common in my generation is this whole "my parents beat the shit out of me and I turned out okay!"

No, you didn't. If you think that hitting people is a solution to a problem, then no, you didn't turn out okay.

There's also the whole "we didn't wear seatbelts or bike helmets and we survived." Yeah, but a lot of us didn't. A lot of us did die from completely preventable accidents.

Nostalgia is a dangerous thing, folks.

Do I think there were good points to the way I was parented in the '80s and '90s? Sure. Boredom can be good for a kid. Unstructured play time stretches the imagination. Stranger danger may have been in the news but in reality it was as likely as it's ever been and as it is now - which is to say, not very. (Fun fact: 93% of children who are harmed are hurt by people known to them.)

On the other hand, I do wish my mom had given me more attention. She was emotionally neglectful a lot of the time and treated me and my brother like we were impediments to her living her life. I don't think that's a generational thing, though. That was just my mother, who was woefully unprepared for single parenthood at the age of 29.

And yeah, I got hit as a kid. I remember dreading the skinny belt. That fucking hurt. My mom did quit hitting me when I was about 13, because she had the uncomfortable realization that I could and would hit back - and it might not go so well for her.

I don't think a lot about how the aggregate of all that has affected me. I know it has, and I have to deal with it. I know that I flinch when people raise their voices. I know that I like my space and alone time. I know that at times I can be pathetically needy and I need constant validation. I know that I dread when people are angry at me.

I wish people would be willing to admit that no, they didn't turn out okay.

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