Frum Librarian

Book Meme

2008-12-28T15:09:00.003-05:00

Thanks Jessica for tagging me for this one, it's right up my alley. Not tagging anyone specific, but if you want to do it, consider yourself tagged. Also I got lucky in that my toddler tends to pull out all the books on the bookshelf next to the computer and an interesting one (and a personal favorite was sitting on top of the pile I had shoved back on the shelf (bad librarian, I know):

Book Meme:

The Rules: Grab the nearest book. Open the book to page 56. Find the fifth sentence. Post the text of the next two to five sentences in your journal/blog along with these instructions. Don’t dig for your favorite book, the cool book, or the intellectual one: pick the CLOSEST. Tag five other people to do the same.

"Mamma," she said, flushing hotly and turning quickly to her, "please, please don't say anything about that. I know, I know all about it." She wished for what her mother wished for, but the motives of her mother's wishes wounded her.

From Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy. Read it. Immediately.

Top Ten Awesome Things About December

2008-12-20T19:40:00.003-05:00

10. X-mas lights
9. Latkes and other oil-drenched foods that are "allowed"
8. My half-birthday
7. Snow!
6. Coupons, sales, buy one, get one, etc. etc.
5. Shaving my legs is completely unnecessary and even provides me with extra warmth as a bonus.
4. Chanuka Parties
3. Less time outside, more time inside to read and drink hot cocoa under a blanket
2. Boots
1. Lighting the menorah the first night. And last night. And all the nights in between.

Talk about giving your children the best chances for their lives:

2008-12-17T13:41:00.004-05:00

This is too insane for me to even discuss:

http://gothamist.com/2008/12/17/no_shoprite_cake_for_baby_hitler.php

We are Not What You Think

2008-12-15T12:14:00.006-05:00

If you've been reading my blog you know that I don't wear a shapeless cable-knit cardigan and a glasses chain and only shush my children. Still here are two more stereotype-busting links so you can see how cool I truly am:

See, and I thought I was the only librarian superhero:
http://www.mlive.com/news/annarbornews/index.ssf?/base/news-30/122901008590970.xml&coll=2

And here is one about real heroes, librarians who helped settle the West a century ago:
http://www.thonline.com/article.cfm?id=225940

Librarian Rage

2008-12-06T18:52:00.001-05:00

We all have this kind of day....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzbDdgWiaS0

The Most Wonderful Time...

2008-12-01T17:27:00.002-05:00

Believe it or not, I love this season. I like the lights all over the place, I love the Christmas songs on the radio, I insist on going into Manhattan and playing the tourist, walking around Rockefeller Center and looking at the Macy's windows. Why? Not quite sure, as I am and always have been Jewish and frum. I guess I'm just a sucker for the cheesy sentimentalism that goes along with the "holiday season." I get like this on the 4th of July, too. Play right into their hands, probably.
But what I don't like is the hordes of consumers descending upon every mall, store, shop, boutique, etc. etc. Lines are crazy, people are rude and pushy, and I get this overwhelming urge to remind people that nothing disastrous would happen if they give their loved ones gifts on the 26th this year. Have you ever been inside Macy's in December? It's a zoo. Wrapping paper and tinsel flying. It's frightening.
Which brings me to Black Friday. Anyone else hear about this trampling of a Wal-Mart worker? It's horrific that what was supposed to be simple bargain shopping turned into Chicago 1968.
Why did it happen? And who has the blood of Jdimytai Damour on his hands? Mob mentality is such a scary thing. I was indignant when I read about this and yet...I got to thinking. If I had been in that crowd when it surged forward, what would I have done? Stopped and waved my arms, trying to get everyone to calm down? Turned around and pushed back towards the parking lot? Chances are, if I had tried to do any of those things I would have gotten hurt, too. And chances are, I would have just gone along with it, like everyone else. And then blamed someone else for an innocent man's death.
No matter how this happened, it would have been sad. But for it to happen so some people could get cheap DVD players and digital cameras? A tragedy.

To Life

2008-11-20T11:25:00.003-05:00

For anyone who spent countless childhood hours paging through her parents' and grandparents' old issues of Life, this is for you.

http://images.google.com/hosted/life

I could spend days here, so be warned. There's something fascinating about a glimpse into the life of someone else, be it someone famous or world renowned or just someone from a different time and place.
Enjoy!

@#$%^&*!!!!

2008-11-14T11:00:00.003-05:00

I have a friend, let's call her Shaindel. She is a really nice person. Now I am aware, through stories Shaindel herself has told me as well as through others, that Shaindel was very different back in high school.
Back then, she was Samantha. She wore jeans and had boyfriends. She liked to party. When we sit on a playground bench together I can still see the row of empty earring holes going up her ear, unused for years.

Now, however, Shaindel is a self-professed Chareidi. She wears stockings every day, straight through July and August. She doesn't show a single strand of her hair and her sons have peyos behind their ears. Her family does not own a TV. She's way stricter about religious things than I am, and I admire her for her strength in some areas, although I don't necessarily agree with her hashkafa.

But there is something very interesting that Shaindel does, I guess a habit from back in her Samantha days that she has never broken. And that is her language. Just like me, she will throw in a "what the hell" or a "freakin" or a "crap" into her conversations.

Now, maybe I am hyper aware of language because I tend to curse and I don't want my kids to pick up the habit. But it seems kind of dissonant with Shaindel's personality, with her whole lifestyle. I wonder if she even realizes she is doing it.

As someone who loves language in general, who loves books and poetry and reading and writing and song lyrics, I am all for the appropriate use of blue language. Should Elmo be allowed to drop an F-bomb on Sesame St.? No. But sometimes you just need emphasis, you just need to convey anger or frustration or joy or some other passionate emotion, and the only word that works is one society views as taboo.

But I don't get it coming from frum people. I have a relative, a real yeshivish guy. He is shocked that I allow my children to listen to the radio and watch TV. He thinks the way that I live is dead wrong, and doesn't hesitate to point out how assur everything I do is. But he has no compunctions about using the N word. A word I would never use and would not want my children to even know exists. I don't get it. Why is it OK? Isn't that a terrible word, a word of hate and venom and malice? No one should use it, least of all a "frum" person.

I kinda veered off topic here, which is to ask if anyone understands why a super frum person would use questionable language. For the record, I don't think Shaindel is a fake in any way, and as I said, I admire her greatly. So what' sup with the double standard?

Here's the Pitch...

2008-11-13T07:27:00.003-05:00

Someone explain something to me. What is it about the people in this world who possess prostates (i.e. boys) that makes them compulsive when it comes to sports?
Don't get me wrong. I like sports. I like to play them, I like to attend outdoor and indoor sporting events and cheer wildly for my team. I even like to drink beer and if I have enough, curse loudly at the ump/ref. So you would think I have all the necessary components to be a rabid sports fan. Many women do. The difference is most women don't have this compulsion to drop everything and stare open-mouthed at a game, any game, being played. Anywhere. At any time.
I understand going to a football game in Continental Arena or whatever it's called now. I understand going to watch a friend compete or a child. I even understand watching a football game on TV. I really do. It's exciting. You are invested in the outcome (sometimes literally), you care about the rules and the strategies, and the players. Makes sense. I DO NOT, however, understand slowing down on the Harlem River Drive to watch some kids throw around a football. I do not get why my husband will stop walking to spectate at a Little League Game in a local playground. He does this with any organized game at all. Ping Pong. Hand ball. The kind of football people play in bars with a folded piece of paper or a bottle cap. If he saw some kids playing jacks on the sidewalk I bet he'd crouch down and start placing bets. If I was in labor, I think he'd still slow the car down to see if the 16 year olds playing baseball on the street scored a run. I'm not sure, but I think he even pauses when flipping channels to watch golf.
I thought it was just a weird, endearing idiosyncrasy belonging to the darling man I married but after observing many men of all ages, backgrounds, and socioeconomic statuses, including my own preschool age son, I've come to the conclusion that this must be unique to the Y chromosome carriers. The spectator gene, I've named it.
And I'm sorry, but I just don't get this about boys.
I'll add it to the list.

On Being a Homemaker

2008-11-09T12:24:00.004-05:00

I hate telling people that I stay home with my kids. I feel the need to automatically qualify it with my resume history, how I got downsized through no fault of my own and I'm looking for a new job. It's like I'm embarrassed to say that I don't work. In my mind, admitting that I don't work is equivalent to saying that I sit around all day in my pajamas eating bon bons and watching The Young and the Restless.
I know I'm not lazy. I know that my hours right now are filled with errands, childcare, cooking, and on top of that job searching. Not to mention my novel, which is not going that well sadly. I guess reading a lot does not make one qualified to write. I mean, yeah sure, of course I waste time online and watch inane shows on Surf the Channel while my youngest is napping. But don't people do those kinds of things at their jobs as well? Why do I feel laser beams of judgment when I tell people I don't work?
It sucks but I think it's some kind of social stigma. Growing up, my mom was one of the very few who worked full time. Now, I have many friends who have full time jobs, supporting husbands in school or kollel or who just need a supplementary income. They seem to be able to juggle it all with ease, and still have time to brush their hair, which I can't seem to manage. I guess I just can't do that. I can't work full time and take care of my kids, my home, and still feel like a person. So I keep holding out for the perfect part time job, the one that will let me be home in the afternoons with my kids.
I can tell that people (especially other mothers) think I'm lazy or unmotivated or selfish. And it's not like we are rolling in the dough and couldn't use another income. But this is just what I think I need to do. And my husband agrees this is what's best for us to have a happy and peaceful home (thanks, hon, for being on my side. And for letting me nap yesterday!).
Guess this is more of a vent than a post. And I guess I should stop caring what others think. That's always been a toughie for me.

Will You Lie to Your Kids?

2008-11-07T08:02:00.002-05:00

This post was inspired by a discussion I had with a young, married friend who does not yet have children. She wanted to refer to the halachos of nidah and my kids were around, so she used the word "tznius." At first I didn't have a clue what she was talking about. The two are not exactly interchangeable. Once I figured it out, she told me how she, and countless other little girls, I'm sure, was taught that the 3 mitzvos of women, the ones the Imahos kept, were: 1) Lighting candles 2) Challah and 3) Tznius.
Personally, I find this outrageous. First of all, it's an ouright lie. Tznius is not even on the radar when it comes to women's mitzvos in the Torah. Even worse, modesty is NOT only for women. Men are supposed to be as modest, if not more, as women when it comes to speech, dress (yes, dress), and behavior. But how many frum guys do you know who are aware of this?
I understand tznius is important for women. I don't know if the way I dress is always in line with what contemporary rabanus feels is "modest" but I do try to comport myself in a way that does not attract sexual attention. But to teach little girls that it's in the top three and that it only applies to them is really awful, I think.
Which brings me to the point: Are we supposed to lie when teaching Torah? Isn't it better to be honest with children than to teach them something that they will later find out is false? Doesn't that lead to that child growing up and questioning everything?
But realistically speaking, can we really be completely honest? When it comes to questions of sex, of death, of the intricacies of what Hashem is and how He does what He does? There are ideas and fundamentals that kids just can't handle, especially when they are young.
I'd like to think I'd tell the truth in an age appropriate manner. The question of death has already come up with my son and I (so far) have never said "If you're good you won't die" (which I think is what he'd love to hear) or "It doesn't hurt". I want him to be reassured, but I also always want to be honest. I think in the long run, he'll appreciate that more, and respect me more for it as well.
I didn't know that sex was not allowed on Yom Kippur until I was married. Long after I knew what sex was, down to the littlest technicalities which I researched in depth with my friends during recess, long after I realized that married couples were engaging in intercourse all the time, I still didn't know that it was one of the five things you were not allowed to do. It was completely omitted. Maybe I didn't have to know that information in first grade. But when I learned about it as a 20 year old, it came as a shock. I felt more than a little betrayed that this was left out of my learning.
So please weigh in. Tell me what you would do. If you have a solution that is better than mine, I'd love to hear it.

Time for me to Detox

2008-11-06T14:56:00.002-05:00

You (if I still have anyone reading out there) are probably wondering what I'm doing to keep myself busy these days, since I am still unemployed and I certainly haven't been blogging. The answer is that I have discovered in the past few months that I am actually a politics junkie. I have been reading up on the candidates and watching fanatic and insane youtube videos since August. It was all very entertaining.
However, I chose not to write about my thoughts because I really, really, really don't like to discuss politics with frum Jews. They tend to be prejudiced, close minded, and ignorant. No offense...Damn, am I down to zero readers?
So now I find myself with a lot of time on my hands. Well, not really. I still have kids to take care of and stuff. But I need a new pet project. And I've found one. Drumroll, please....
I've decided to become the Great American Novelist. Shouldn't be too hard. No biggie. Just signed myself up for NaNoWriMo. Translation: National Novel Writing Month. I have from November 1st through November 30th to write an amazing, thought-provoking, inspiring, genius novel. Well, actually, the only criteria is that is has to be 50,000 words.
So far I have almost 9,000.
Probably not worth it to sign up now, but you can check it out at www.nanowrimo.org. Root for me!
Hopefully in December, we can get back on track with some interesting library-related posts. Or just some nonsense I decide to spew.
Missed you!

-FL

To the Rescue

2008-08-22T09:51:00.004-04:00

Well, I've been having a busy summer, and at the same time, a really slow, lazy summer. Still keeping my ears open for librarian jobs, sending out resumes, taking my kids to the park, and so on. Oh yeah, and I have now become, at least for the moment

STEALTH LIBRARIAN

I wasn't planning on it happening, but I have to admit, while playing with toddlers all day is fun and relaxing (ish), I was kinda feeling my brain start to melt. Still, I had no concrete plans to become

STEALTH LIBRARIAN

but I found myself in the library one day browsing for books for myself and the kids. As always, I made snide comments to myself about the librarians' lack of energy, the disarray of the shelves, the overflow of unshelved books on carts, etc. Hey, if I can't feel mildly superior, what's the fun in being unemployed? Anyway, as I was browsing next to an older woman, a book I read a few weeks ago caught my eye. I had really enjoyed it and found it very original. So I turned to the woman next to me and say "Have you read this? It's really good". She takes it out, looks at it and says she probably wouldn't like it but she thinks her son would love it. Thanks me, and checks it out. That's right, I performed a public act of reader's advisory on the sly.

What's that, lurking in your local library? It's a stay at home mom, it's an unemployed loser...no! It's

STEALTH LIBRARIAN

More well read than the editors of Publishers Weekly

More organized than the card catalog in the Library of Congress

Able to leap book displays in a single bound

If you ever need help finding a book, just call. I will hear you!

-FL

Yes, I am Alive!

2008-07-17T11:32:00.003-04:00

I'm back!
Thanks to my loyal fans (Jessica, that's you) for missing me while I was neglecting to post. You are probably all wondering two things. A- am I alive and well? and B- am I still a librarian? Well, the answer is A-yes, thank G-d and B-not really, no.
When I went back to work after Shavuos I had a lovely mass email waiting for me informing me that due to budget cuts, I was out. Canned. Fired. Yup, unemployed.
On the one hand, I was kinda thrilled to have the summer off. And to leave a job I wasn't overly in love with, to say the least. On the other, I felt rejected. And poor.
But nevertheless, here I am, spending the summer with my kids. I have a great tan from all the outdoor time and spend downtime exercising so from a purely physical point of view, things couldn't be better!
I am also sending out resumes and going on interviews. I had an interesting one yesterday where a non-librarian HR person read me questions off a sheet and I did my best not to fall asleep.
So that is my updated status. Sorry to keep you all on tenterhooks (whatever those are) while you wondered where I was. Hopefully we will be back on track now, although unless you want to read about play dates and Target runs, this blog may be a little boring.
I'll find something to say, though.

Special Prayer to say today

2008-06-03T17:10:00.002-04:00

I wanted to write more about this, but alas, children thirsting for information, homework help, and books about robot dogs and poop (seriously) have taken all of my bloggy time.
So here is the link to the tefilla by the Shlah that everyone (yes even you singletons or those without kids yet) should say today, the day before Rosh Chodesh Sivan. If everyone says it, maybe the next generation of Jews will be slightly better than this one. We can always hope.

http://www.tefillos.com/tefillas_hasheloh.asp

The Art of Denial

2008-05-27T15:59:00.007-04:00

Being an Orthodox Jew really helps perfect one's skills in self-denial. This is something that I've thought about a lot. There really isn't much that you can just do, no questions asked. Everything is regulated, from what you wear to what you eat, how you eat, who you talk to and what you say, who you touch, everything.
I guess it probably seems restrictive and overwhelming to anyone living the typical American irreligious (notice I didn't say amoral) lifestyle. And there were times in my life where everything felt especially prohibitive ( i.e. high school).
But, and I can't say that everyone living this way would agree with me, there is something to be said for actively denying yourself the pleasures in life. I'm not talking about living the life of a monk, shutting out the world and its beauty, its colors and sounds. I'm no fan of asceticism. We were definitely given this world for a reason and it's silly not to recognize, appreciate, and use what G-d gave us. What I do mean is, well, I am that person that saves her favorite color M & M for last. The one who pushes off reading her favorite book, watching that long awaited Netflix movie, and saves that new pair of hot shoes for a really special occasion. I am anti-instant gratification. I like to....savor.
And doesn't it make that much sweeter? That first music note in my ears on Lag Ba'Omer, that first lick of ice cream after 6 hours of salivating over the Haagen Dasz in the freezer. Finally being able to check your email after a 3 day Yom Tov. That first kiss, the first one ever or that first one after two long weeks. It's kind of like that old Heinz commercial . The best things come to those who wait.

My Pet Peeves

2008-05-22T16:20:00.000-04:00

Another top ten list (I may have anger management issues):

10. Mushrooms

9. Incorrect spelling and grammar.

8. People who call it "the Net".

7. Parents who yell at their kids for being childish. Hello! They are children!

6. People who walk really slow and/or block the whole sidewalk so anyone who's in a rush has to bounce back and forth trying to get by.

5. Whining

4. The word "clutch", when not referring to a bag or a transmission.

3. Cockroaches

2. People who emphasize the "r" in February. And the "t" in often.

1. That hairstyle that is basically a big bump of hair with a headband behind it.

Funny Library Anecdote

2008-05-21T16:30:00.002-04:00

I constantly am intervening in fights, arguments, politics and drama among an assortment of library-going youngsters. The other day I had to break up a fight that ended with one fourth-grader (one of my favorites) in tears and another (I think he might have more than one personality) on the verge of violence. I wasn't really clear on what happened, I just know someone insulted someone else's father, someone else's father is in jail, and someone else called someone else's mother an "H-O-E". That's right, this kid had the audacity to compare a peer's mom to a gardening implement. Got that?

Anyway, I got involved out of necessity, separated the involved parties, smoothed things over, you know. I think I did a pretty good job of calming everyone down and making the crying boy feel better.

So I walk into work today and BOTH boys involved are on their best behavior and gazing at me with puppy dog eyes. Uh-oh. They were both on their best behavior because, you guessed it, they are both madly in love with me.

Sometimes this job is good for the ego.

On another note, I inspired a post! I emailed Frum Punk because I secretly wish I was him, and he is now my official music-taste mentor. Since contemporary librarians are one of the gatekeepers of the First Amendment and punk seems like it's a big proponent of free speech and assembly, I wanted to give it a try. I'll keep you posted as to how it goes.

Music of my Youth

2008-05-14T11:16:00.000-04:00

I have this theory that no one ever gets past their high school years, musically speaking. Like you are stuck forever wanting to relive the Top 40 of those hallowed days. Of course, all the evidence I have of this is purely anecdotal.

For example, I have a friend who is a few years older than I, and she is obsessed with 80's music. Now there is some 80's music I like, probably the more popular stuff, likewhat they play on PLJ on Saturday nights. Duran Duran and Journey and and I like some hair metal, too. But after maybe 3 songs I get fed up and start mocking the synthesizers. I mean I was learning long division when these songs came out. They can be fun but they just don't really do it for me.

Then there are the people of a certain generation (and here I mean my parents) who think that quality music died with John Lennon and listen to classic rock exclusively, or even better, Oldies. I would imagine it must be awesome to listen to Oldies, like The Supremes or whoever, when you're baked. Like everything would just seem so cheerful and happy, with the worse problems involving sock hops and the like. Never done it, though. And I like some classic rock, for what it's worth, but again, I get sick after a couple of songs. Led Zeppelin just starts to sound whiny to my early 90's ears.

But then when I get to the music of my youth, the songs that were popular when I was walking around school with my Walkman (remember those?) permanently glued into my ears, and it's like an obsession. Like I will sit around and discuss with friends of the same age how New York really needs a 90's rock station. I'm sure people slightly older or younger would be like "Whatever for?" But we really miss Live and Smashing Pumpkins and, hey remember Hootie & the Blowfish? I even kinda miss all that crappy dance music like the Real McCoy and Ace of Base. See what I mean? Insanity.

When I think about this objectively I get very depressed. Like I am either doomed to become my dad, mourning the loss of bands like Oasis and pontificating on why there is no good music out there today, or I will be like this mom I know. An acquaintance's mom who thinks she is "with it" and listens to Z100 and pretends to think Justin Timberlake is hot, when she really just thinks he is a man-whore (oh wait, that's me).

I don't want to fake being cool when I'm old. I want to really be cool. But, I mean, that's basically impossible nowadays, when all the hit music is by people who spell Soldier "Soulja". Oh crap. See? It's started already.

Rejection

2008-05-07T17:07:00.004-04:00

In case you all forgot since March, I still hate my job. Hate may be a strong word, but I definitely feel underappreciated, and yet still somehow overworked. So I've been trying to find a new one.

Well, I heard of something great, a position in a school, but a real one, not some dinky yeshiva that won't pay on time and will censor the books I want to buy. So of course, I got really excited and started planning my "I quit" speech and mentally purchasing a new wardrobe for the occasion. And of course I didn't get it.
It's actually not that bad, because it wasn't like they laughed me out of the interview, like "Where's your heavy-knit cardigan? What kind of librarian are you, you don't even have a glasses chain!"

It was more like they seemed to like me, the interview went OK, I thought, but the salary was laughable. And so were my attempts at negotiation, apparently.
I've been feeling grumpy ever since, though. Like I was rejected.

Rejection is never fun. And really almost all of the rejection I've felt in my life has been associated with library science. That's why I love this reaction that I get when I tell people my profession, a reaction I can pretty much bet the farm (library collection?) on. "Oh, you have to go to school for that? You need a Master's for that?". Yes, and would you believe I can't even get a job? That's right, I can't even get hired in the land of make-believe.

OK, OK, I know I am technically employed. I should be thankful, and I am. Just sick of being a gopher one minute and responsible for high level administrativey things the next. Sigh. OK, pity party over. Carry on.

A Woman's Place

2008-05-06T10:06:00.002-04:00

Over Pesach, on one of those long afternoons where there is nothing to do but dream about pizza, I got into a semi-interesting conversation with 2 family members. Now both these relatives fall into the not-so-open-minded, right of center yeshivish mentality, not that there's anything wrong with that (ha!). And somehow we started talking about women and their "place".
I pretty much stopped contributing to the conversation once I realized that all they wanted to do was congratulate one another on the fabulous choices they've made and bash women who maybe made slightly different decisions re: their own lives.
The main gist, I believe, was how "sad" it was when women don't know and appreciate the roles they have, when they try to do things that are out of the realm of Jewish womanhood, at least according to the mainstream frum world, I guess. I think examples given were along the lines of women lecturing to groups of men, women's tefilla groups, etc.
It just got me thinking- do people, even really really frum Chareidi types, really think that women have inferior brain power or ability to men? I mean, come on, this is 2008, isn't it? I think I have a pretty good handle on the halachos in play here, and there isn't anything wrong with a woman giving a speech to a bunch of men. This kind of thinking really just pisses me off.
I know perfectly well what my "place" is. I know what is assur for me to do (i.e. violate Shabbos, eat pork, etc.) and what is mutar. Why shouldn't men learn from a well-spoken, educated woman? You know, Eizeh who chacham, and all that?
I am by no means a feminist. My husband is the main breadwinner and I stayed home with the kids when they were babies. I do majority of the cooking and cleaning and I don't use words like "herstory". I just don't understand this attitude that the yeshivish world has towards women. It goes way beyond misogyny into fear. These men are terrified of females. They add law upon ban upon chumra to lock women away, whether this means to physically cover more and more of themselves, or to bar them from learning or reading or knowing anything that is not absolutely necessary to support a Kollel family. Do you know, someone told me that a little while ago, during that whole Monsey chicken crisis thing, that the Rabbis (I use the term loosely) in Lakewood blamed it on the lack of tznius women show by having a skin-colored part in their sheitels. Yup, exactly. The reason a huge Jewish community unknowingly ate treif for YEARS was because some women had a little centimeter of flesh colored netting on their heads. Notice how, conveniently, the Rabbis themselves did not have to do any self improvement for this. Nothing to do with lashon hara or bein adam l'chaveiro! Let's blame women, since they have no representatives and can't speak in public even if they did!! If Devora HaShofetes tried her little palm tree schtick in 2008 she'd be cast out, denounced and absolutely trashed in the Hamodia and Yated. What?! How could a woman make decisions for us? How could we ever listen to someone with ovaries? The very idea!
I've been saying this for years and I really think the idea has merit, but sadly, I don't think it would ever happen in the contemporary Jewish world. Wouldn't it make sense for every shul/kehilla/community/group of like-minded Jews to have not only a Rav to look to for guidance and halachic questions, but also a female in a similar capacity? I don't mean she'd have smicha, I just mean a yoetzet, someone learned, educated, and respected who could give a woman's perspective on things. I for one absolutely hate asking a Rav questions of a "female" nature, whether it has to do with Taharas Hamishpacha, Tznius, hair-covering, anything like that. How could he possibly understand? How could even the most intuitive, understanding, compassionate man ever really get what it's like to be a frum woman in 2008? He can't.
I realize I am pretty much ranting here, but I am just sick of being, for all intents and purposes, a second class citizen, while being reassured that I'm not, it's just my "place". Screw that. My place is where I make it.

Another Top Ten

2008-05-02T10:54:00.003-04:00

I apologize that it's been so long since I last posted, my computer has been acting up, and then breaking and finally just refused to turn on at all and I am now typing this on my fancy new computer.

Nothing much to say, however, just letting the general public know that I have not died or become too frum to have the Shmutzernet in my house. Just tech issues.

So here is a top ten list so you didn't read this for nothing:

Top Ten Reasons I Kinda Like Pesach:

10. Cleaning- it's kinda cathartic, although I haven't done much of it as of late.

9. Since I almost always go away, I am not responsible for any shopping or cooking (except that which I elect to do as a helpful and considerate daughter/daughter-in-law)

8. Matza Balls

7. Buying new clothes and having an excuse to wear them.

6. Extended family time- ok so I didn't put it at #1, but it's not at #10 either, so give me some credit, ok?

5. Chol HaMoed trips- it's like you are halachically obligated to go to an amusement park or zoo. Religiously proscribed entertainment-fun!

4. Matza Pizza

3. The Seder- the Seder is really fun and I almost always get really into it, especially during the Makkos and Chad Gadya, when I am compelled to make animal noises. The 4 cups of wine probably contribute to this.

2. No work/school

1. The way challa tastes that first Shabbos after (i.e. tonight). Makes it all worth it!

Anyone know any five year olds?

2008-04-14T16:43:00.002-04:00

I know, I have been so busy with work stuff and general life stuff that I haven't posted much. But I figured I'd ask for suggestions from the general public:

Anyone have any great read aloud books appropriate for a five or six year old? I'm talking clear, interesting pictures, something funny or witty, not too long. Something I could read to kids that they would really respond to. I don't mean to ask you to do my job for me but I figured it's worth a shot right?

Pesach in 2008

2008-04-10T07:47:00.004-04:00

A conversation I had recently with my husband:

Frum Librarian: And we need to clean out the car, don't forget....

Husband: Umhmmm

FL: And the car seats, that's a really big job!

H: Umhmmm

FL: Actually [my daughter] doesn't eat so much in the car, so maybe we don't need to go so crazy with her seat

H (actually looking up from his book to make eye contact): We don't need to go crazy at all.

Is it just me or does this sound like blasphemy to anyone else? Hello? Pesach is the time for those of us with heavy OCD tendencies (i.e. organization-o-phile librarians, to name a few) to GO CRAZY. It is a time to spend hours scrubbing radiator gratings, inside outlets, keyboards, and window screens. It is a time to have panic attacks you could set your watch by when the word Cheerios is mentioned.

Or is this just another Jewish holiday that has been blown out of proportion? Another go-all-out top-your-neighbor spendathon where you aren't really frum if you haven't vacuumed your ceilings and spent 3 months' salary on cleaning crews and kosher for Pesach laundry detergent.
It always makes me kinda sad, now that I think of it, the 5-figure Sukkahs, the all-inclusive Yomim Noraim resort vacations, the overpriced Chanuka gift extravaganzas and the lavish themed Mishloach Manos that obviously cost well over $100 to put together. Per basket.

Pesach cleaning always makes me nervous. It's probably that whole one-speck-of-Chametz-and-you-get-Kares thing. I am a list-making, organization-obsessed, Container Store-aholic neat freak on a good day though, so Pesach just feeds into my baser impulses and lets me go nuts.
Maybe that's just what modern (lower case M) Jewish Orthodoxy is today, though. We can't really compare to previous generations in terms of our Yiras Hashem or Ahavas Hashem or Torah erudition or Mesiras Nefesh. The only thing we really have more of is disposable income and leisure time. If you want to look on the bright side, I guess that's better than nothing, right?

I HAVE SPRING FEVER!!

2008-03-26T14:31:00.003-04:00

There's one day like it every year, usually in March or April. I open my front door, step outside, take a deep breath and it's like I'm living all my Springs all over again.

Riding my bike on the concrete baseball field behind the public school. Waiting for the school bus in the early morning, finally able to move my arms in my light spring jacket, glove and hat free. Not dreading getting out of bed in the morning because it was finally light out when I awoke. Watching my brother suck royally at Little League, but cheering for him anyway. Great Adventure on Chol HaMoed Pesach, eyeing the boys furtively while trying to pretend the trip was no big deal. Eighth grade graduation in my white gown, my eyes swollen with hay fever, my parents camera happy and glassy-eyed with speeches.

Writing final papers and book reports on the soft grass in my backyard. Walking to school on Spring mornings, hurrying to make it before the bell. That Spring of senior year of high school when we finally, finally were able to drive to school, windows rolled down, radios blasting, stuffed five, six, or seven to a car.
Spring my seminary year, in Israel. Going to the Gan HaChayot HaTanachi instead of class, walking around Geulah in my Purim costume. Staying out late and ending the night with Vasikin at the Kotel. Sunrise at the bus stop back to school.
Spring the year I got engaged. Near cardiac arrest at the sight of my boyfriend in a suit, holding a dozen roses. This Spring is probably my haziest, but also one of the best.
Spring in college. Hanging around the quad with friends, eating lunch on the grass. Having class outside on the benches because the profs also had Spring Fever. Scrambling to finish papers and studying and get out of the house.
Spring with my kids. Finally making it to the park, taking trips to zoos and aquariums. Watching them have their own mini-versions of Spring Fever themselves. Discovering squirrels and flowers all over again.

I can't help it. This time of year, I get light headed, irresponsible, hyper active, horny, energetic. I forget to worry about stupid grown up things like taxes and insurance and just think about going out. To play.

I wonder if every Spring I have will always be a composite of all the ones I've had. I hope so.

Being a Girl on Purim: It Sucks

2008-03-18T11:25:00.004-04:00

This post could probably cover Simchas Torah too, but maybe we'll do it again in September.

Remember when Purim was fun?? I do. For me it was circa 1993. I got dressed up. We had party after party in school. There was Mishloach Manos to deliver, money to collect, tons and tons of crap to eat. I even loved the Megillah reading. It was always a competition to see who could make the loudest, most outlandish noise during Haman's name.
I can put my finger on exactly when Purim ceased to be fun. I guess you could call it my initiation into Jewish womanhood. And that is the moment, Purim on 9th grade, when my best friend and I decided to come to shul on Purim night for Megillah in....wait for it....Shabbos clothes.
That's right. Not a costume, not even my then-prized denim skirt, with all the feelings of uniform-skirt-free euphoria it evoked. Nope. We wanted to look nice.
From then on, Purim simply sucked. After Megillah reading at night, we'd go home to our respective houses and help our moms put together Mishloach Manos baskets and cook for the seudah the next day. We'd watch our brothers, cousins, and friends pull coats on over their costumes to go Chagigah hopping and we'd smell them reel back hours later, sick with too much scotch, beer, and cigarette smoke, reeking of firecrackers. And we never went out delivering anymore, we had to stay home with the ladies and prepare for the seudah and give out pennies to the little kids who came to our door.
Halfway through high school, my friends and I would spend Shvat whining about how boring Purim would be, how dumb it all was and how damn much we wished we were boys. Again.
Yeah OK, they probably had the short end of the stick when it came to getting up for minyan every day or those really humiliating bar mitzvah experiences they had to go through. But on Purim- it was all worth it, wasn't it boys? The unlimited drinking, the curfewless parties, it sounded like heaven, back when I was in tenth grade.
Although Purim has gotten slightly better since high school (especially the one notable exception to the Purim sucks rule, my Purim Mishulash in Israel, which, let's face it, I was not exactly the typical seminary girl that year) it still kinda sucks. Now I actually have to cook the seudah on my own, make Mishloach Manos, and yes, watch my kids enviously as their eyes light up at the piles and piles of candy stacking up on the dining room table.
I guess Purim isn't all that much fun for adults, male or female. It really is a kid's holiday.
One year, though, we should do some big worldwide V'nahopochu thing and make all the men cook and stay home to receive the deliveries and let the women dress up, party all night and then sleep till the seudah starts. Sounds like fun to me.

Hating my Job Right Now

2008-03-17T09:29:00.002-04:00

I am in the middle of hating my job right now.
Don't get me wrong, I really think I made the right career choice. I can see myself librarianing forever. No, I mean the actual position that I hold right now. I have too many complaints to list. Unfortunately, though, I don't think I am going to be able to find something new if I quit.
Although back in undergrad, I was definitely 100% absolutely positively SURE that I didn't want to teach, I sometimes envy teachers now. Most of my friends are teachers, either special ed or general ed, either in public schools or in yeshivas. And I see how easy it is for them to find jobs. No matter where they live, what they teach, or what specifications they might have, they are never job-hunting for long. I guess it makes sense. Every school has tens if not hundreds of teachers. And every school has 2, maybe 3 librarians, tops.
I know that I am really picky. I looked for over a year (although much of that was not serious job hunting) before I took this job. I wanted a specific location, a specific job description, and specific hours. And my chances of finding a good job in this economy with all those requirements are probably slim to none.
It's depressing, though. I know that I could love my job and right now I just don't. Makes it hard to get myself to work every day and to be enthusiastic with he kids when I get there. And that's pretty unfair to them.

Top Ten

2008-03-09T23:04:00.003-04:00

I love to make top ten (or top any-number) lists. I guess you could call it a nerdy little hobby of mine. Anyway, I decided to do a top ten post every once in a while, so here is the first:

Top Ten Non-School Related Items I get asked to find in the Library:

10. Goosebumps books by R.L. Stine

9. Origami/Paper Airplane books

8. Anything Spongebob related

7. Books about a "robot dog" (this is the same kid, every time)

6. Anything Wrestling/WWE related

5. Horrible Harry books

4. Dr. Seuss books

3. Guinness Books/ World Almanacs

2. Anything High School Musical related

1. War and Peace

......that last one clearly a joke. I doubt the kids would lower themselves to read Tolstoy. But anyway, I am so not a literature snob. If they're reading, I'm happy! And we don't have any books about a robot dog. You know who you are.

The Next Generation

2008-03-07T09:52:00.002-05:00

Every day in the library we get about 30 to 40 of the same kids in the after school rush. Over the time that I've been there, I have formed attachments to some, aversions to others, theories about the family lives of most and even some real friendships.
My coworkers too, clearly have their favorites. There is one woman I work with, let's call her Maria, who is definitely the closest with the children. She works at their school, has been for years, and knows most of their parents. The kids, even the really wild ones, respect her, or at least fear her. When Maria is out, or running late, the troublemakers smell freedom and give me a real run for my money. And when she walks in, instant silence (or as close to it as 40 first through sixth graders can get) falls.
But I've noticed in my personal dealings with Maria that she kind of hates kids. I don't mean she is violent or in any other way harmful to them. She just has no faith in them whatsoever. She expects the worse from them. She sees intent where I see mistakes. Maybe it's a generational thing (Maria is in her early 60s). Or maybe it's a cultural thing (she was born in Central America). But I can still remember what it was like to be a second grader, to get in trouble for talking to my friends during class, to lose my homework or leave it at home, to get frustrated or bored with school. I tend to look at the kids as human beings. Some of them try, some of them can't be bothered. Sometimes they get distracted from their work (future bloggers, probably). Some of them make the same mistakes day after day.
It really bothers me when Maria tells me a boy who got in trouble "knew exactly what he was doing" and he was trying to provoke me. I disagreed. He is 8 or 9. He isn't able to think about repercussions the way I am, as an adult.
Maybe I am naive or too optimistic or idealistic or something (which is funny, because I like to consider myself a cynic!). But if we can't have faith in these kids, then what hope is there for them? If we are constantly assuming the worst, how will they ever have confidence in themselves?
I don't think I could ever broach this subject with Maria because I simply don't think she could wrap her head around this concept: children are people, too.

The Birds

2008-02-04T09:21:00.000-05:00

I just witnessed something beautiful.
I was walking my son to school. The snow was coming down heavily, but in a gentle way, and I was enjoying the short walk. We take a short cut between some houses on the way and when the path opened up, I looked up and saw thousands upon thousands of birds alighting on the trees in front of me. The birds were small and black and not of a type that I could identify. The sound of their chirping was loud enough to block out the cars and children entering the school below. As my son and I watched, small groups of birds flew from tree to tree and from branch to ground, shifting and moving the black masses on the treetops.
After a few moments, the flock as a whole picked up and flew off, the sound of their wings like wind. 10 seconds later, the trees and ground were back to normal and I felt like I had been handed a secret gift that no one else noticed (except my son, of course, and he didn't seem overly impressed).
I wonder why they chose to rest on that little block and why they left when they did. The whole short experience was incredible. I feel like this is going to be one thought-provoking day!

-FL

The Look

2008-01-14T10:45:00.000-05:00

I know it's been ages since I have posted. Overwhelmed by my busy life, and need about 24 more hours per day, but what else is new?
I was thinking recently about The Look. If you are frum and female (although I'm sure you guys have your own version of The Look, too) you know what I'm talking about. The Look is when you go somewhere outside the New York Metropolitan area and you happen to see someone frum. There you are, in Amish country, Pennsylvania with your family, in your denim skirt and baseball cap and you turn around, narrowly missing putting your foot into a cow pile, and bump right into a girl in a denim skirt and baseball cap with her family. And that's when you get (and most likely, give) The Look. Who are you? Where are you from? Who do you know? It's almost like the ESP-version of Jewish geography. You try to decide who this person is, where they live, how frum they are, and the all-important if you know them based on how they are dressed and not much else.
The Look almost never involves a smile, and if you are close enough that overt staring would be too rude even for a frum Jew, a quick, toothless grin is all you really have to give. I always get thrown off by Asian women, as they tend to dress more modestly than, say, your average Hispanic woman, and my tznius detector in my brain starts screaming, "Skirt! Over there! It covers her knees, I see it! WHO IS SHE?!".
I like to think of myself as above all this Yenta Girl (like Gossip Girl but Jewish) nonsense, but it's almost like The Look is bred into me. It's related to that feeling of being in a popular restaurant in a thriving Jewish neighborhood and being unable to make eye contact with the person across the table from you. I have tried time and time again to sit in a pizza store on a Saturday night across from my husband and make civil conversation with him, but instead I am driven to swivel my eyes and sometimes, on a hopping night, even my head so I can check out who's there.... Sad, really. In high school, my friends and I would fight over who got to sit on the bench facing the room, almost like calling Shotgun- the person or people on that bench would have much less work to do when trying to eat and yenta at the same time. The girls with their backs to the room were constantly swiveling and dripping pizza oil on their laps. It was a hazardous occupation.
I was thinking about this because I work in a relatively un-Jewish library. Most of my patrons are fascinated when they hear I'm Jewish (and this is a ten minute drive from my house, where I am walking distance to THREE kosher pizza stores). I did notice, however, that every so often a frum sheitel-wearing lady comes into my library and looks at children's books. I figure she is a teacher who works in the area (see, there I go, surmising!) and the last time we made eye contact, she actually smiled at me, as if to say, "Yes, it's me, I'm a frum lady too!". It was actually one of the nicer Looks I've gotten.
There is something underlying The Look that is actually beautiful. Like wherever you go in the world, you are not alone. If you need some kosher food in South Dakota, chances are you'll probably bump into a family, all in baseball caps, ambling around the local zoo with some super snacks and HaOlam cheese in their knapsacks who'd be more than willing to share. It makes me feel better to think of it like that, like an achdus thing. Like all these girls in the denim skirts are my sorority sisters and The Look is our secret handshake- it's how we know we both belong to the same club.
Well, it's better than just trying to guess how much she paid for her hatfall, I guess.

Hey Jealousy

2007-12-19T09:16:00.000-05:00

I am a jealous person. There, I said it. Now only 11 more steps to go.

I have always been jealous. I don't know if I really covet, exactly, in the biblical way. Let's say like in high school I always wanted someone else's parents (whose? It varied. Really anyone's parents but my own). I didn't want to deprive my friends of their awesome parents. I just wanted to have them, too. I definitely didn't seethe about it or secretly plan any assassinations, but the feeling was pretty solid. I was just plain jealous.

Jealousy, at least my personal version of it, can be a scary thing. I like to think of myself as being pretty much in control of my emotions, at least for most of the month. But sometimes in a fit of jealousy I will surprise myself by how passionately, insanely, heartbreakingly jealous I am. It absolutely rules me, if only for a minute or two. Then Logical Librarian takes over.

I really think I need some pointers on fighting this stuff. I mean, I try to tell myself how lucky I am, how good my life is, how the thing I desire is not that imporant, blah blah blibby blah ad nauseum, but that really only works on an intellectual level, not an emotional one. The only thing I have ever done that really works is looking at the person I'm jealous of and saying to myself, "well, she might have that awesome pair of glasses, but I know the Dewey Decimal System cold. She can't even find the reference books!" (nice librarian-ish example). It seems pretty emotionally unhealthy to compare like that. It's the emotional equivalent of bitch slapping someone who snubs you. Makes you feel better, makes them feel worse.

So I'm looking for ideas, thoughts, advice. What makes you jealous? How do you deal with it? Has it ever gotten out of control? Help me! Thank you.

P.S. Jessica, the title of this post is for you. I like the idea of lyrics as post titles.

Living Biblically

2007-12-17T10:42:00.000-05:00

I am about halfway through A.J. Jacob's Year of Living Biblically and I have to say, this book is doing a lot more for my spirituality than any shiurim, inspirational emails, etc. that I have recently heard or read.

If you haven't heard of it, Jacobs is a self described agnostic and completely secular Jew. He decides to live one year in his life completely and literally by the Bible. Some of the time he uses Torah SheBaal Peh, sometimes he just interprets things himself (like he attaches tassels to his shirt, instead of wearing tzitzis).

Jacobs is a good writer, sometimes very funny and the book is an okay one, as books go. But it is just so astounding to see this completely objective non religious guy's perspective on things people like me do every single day. Not everything he writes about the mitzvos are things that would make Orthodox Jews happy- some of what he does seems downright insane to him- but the spiritual high that he gets from reading and trying to live the Torah- it's something that I know I take for granted. He finds himself not speaking lashon hara, dancing on Simchas Torah in 770, putting on tefillin, he even does Shiluach Haken! And he is so enthusiastic about it all. Meanwhile, I can read Tanach in Hebrew, know most of davening by heart, do these mitzvos every day, keep these Yomim Tovim every year, and I struggle to find the meaning in them. There really is something to be said for doing something for the first time.
I don't envy BTs their struggles, but I do sometimes wish I could see the beauty in mitzvos that to be honest, I'm bored with. I wish I could feel like I connected to G-d every time I made a bracha, said Shema, put a scarf on my hair, lit Shabbos candles. I'm not saying I never feel it. Just not as often and not as intensely as I'd like.
In his book, Jacobs at times expresses envy of religious Jews' total immersion in spirituality day in and day out. I know there is a reason I live my life the way I do, but sometimes I lose sight of it, and what should be sacred just feels like anything else. Not special or holy.
The book is especially making me miss Israel. One thing I know for sure, my davening the year I lived in Israel cannot be compared to any other davening in my life, except maybe on Yom Kippur. I just felt the kedusha, it was so much easier over there. Like one of my teachers in Seminary said, Hashem and his kedusha is everywhere but in some places (and at some times) the glass is just thinner.
I didn't finish The Year of Living Biblically yet, and I know that the last few chapters will discuss the New Testament, so part of me just wants to stop now, where I feel inspired to try to dredge up all the things I should be feeling. I guess this just goes to show Eyzeh hoo chacham- you really can learn from (and be inspired by) anyone in any way.

-FL

On not being a know-it-all

2007-12-13T09:19:00.000-05:00

The longer I work with (and raise) children, the more clear it becomes to me that I don't know a damn thing. All day long at work, kids ask me questions I don't know. How many feet are in a mile, are there any books out about robot dogs, why doing their homework now will help them later in life.

And then there are the questions my son asks me. What is Hashem? Why is our car green? Why are some people not Jewish?

I remember (very vaguely) being young and thinking adults knew just about everything. For me, however, that notion was dispelled pretty early. But still, as a librarian, I have access to tons of information, and even have training in how to use it most efficiently, how to weed out the inaccurate and unimportant and find exactly what is needed.

So why is it that I always feel so lost?

When I look at others, they always seem so capable. It's like other people have the secret key to being better people, better wives, better Jews; other parents got some instruction manual I didn't get. I know, on an intellectual level that this can't be true, and probably a lot of those confident looking people are just as lost as I am half the time.

It just makes me wonder if this is really how it's supposed to be. Am I going to stumble through the rest of my adult life hoping I am saying and doing the right things, making the right choices?
Is it ever going to be clear cut?

I guess it won't. Maybe the key is not to discover some ancient map that will lead me to the list of clues that will help me figure out where the Holy Grail of self assurance is (kinda Indiana Jones, wasn't that?). Maybe all I have to do is fake it like everyone else seems to be doing. Pretend I know what I'm doing, come up with a bright, pithy answer to all the questions lobbed at me everyday, and that's it.

So really, I just have one last question-

Let's say I want to be right?

-FL

Hipster-Frum-Chic

2007-12-10T12:03:00.000-05:00

Wasn't it funny how all of a sudden Williamsburg was the funky, hip place to live? And guess what all those cool Williamsburgians, the ones who don't wear kapotes and white knee socks do for a living? That's right, they are librarians.

Well, possibly not all of them. Some probably work for little start up advertising firms or run teeny weeny record stores. But apparently it is very in to be a librarian living in Williamsburg.

Which strikes me as so odd, because all my memories of Williamsburg have to do with going to squishy, ill-lit stores and stocking up on socks and underwear for sleep-away camp. Or waiting for 7 hours in a room the size of a closet amongst huge baby strollers and screaming Chassidish toddlers to buy nerdy shoes two weeks before Pesach. And they were never slip-ons, never! It's either that or weddings. Almost every wedding I go to is in Williamsburg, within a 3 block radius around Ross St. All my present-day knowledge of Williamsburg consists of is from the BQE to Ateres Avraham and back to the BQE.

Maybe next time I go to a wedding there, I should stop in and visit some of my bibliophile counterparts, have a drink, discuss the latest in controversial young adult literature or Intellectual Freedom in children's libraries and then get back in my Chevy and go eat some sushi at a shmorg while my friends check and recheck their eyeliner.

I'd fit in (sort of) in either place. 'Tis a dichotomous life I lead.

-FL

Kiddush Hashem in the Library

2007-12-07T09:05:00.000-05:00

The other day I was helping a kid, let's call him Johnny, with his homework in the library. Sweet kid, spaces out a lot instead of doing his work, but smart when he tries. He also tends to talk back to his mother a lot, which he thinks I don't notice since he does it in Spanish. Although my Spanish is pretty much limited to discussing whether I want to go to the beach with Pablo or Anita, I can tell quite a bit from facial expressions and tone.

Johnny's mom is a helicopter-mom. She hovers over him while he does his work, reprimands him for not sitting straight, for his poor penmanship (what 8 year old boy has good penmanship, anyway?) and so on. Aside from her hovering, she is a nice woman, concerned with her son's welfare and polite to me and the other library staff (and I cannot say this is true of all parents who come into my library).

Anyway, on this day, while I was helping Johnny with his reading comprehension, his mother turns to me and asks if I'm Jewish.

"As a matter of fact, I am".

The following is my translation of Johnny's mother's broken English and Spanish mix.

"You know, I could just tell that you were Jewish. There is something about you that shows that you have a lot of respect for everyone, and for yourself. Jewish people are blessed by G-d, it shows on your face that you follow the rules, you are careful how you live. I can tell by how you dress that you have respect for your body. Jewish people are really beautiful people. I met a lot of them in this country and I am so impressed by them. I have so much admiration for them".

I was absolutely stunned by this.

Johnny kind of snickered throughout his mother's speech, but then turned to me and asked what his mother meant by Jewish. I explained to him that this was my religion. His mother said
"Johnny, she is different from us, but we can learn a lot from how she lives".
She then asked me to pray for her and her family because she was sure that G-d would listen to me.

Needless to say, it was a pretty emotional conversation. Johnny's mother was crying at the end of it. I was moved by how well she thinks of Jews and a few times I almost found myself saying "Wow, you must not know a lot of Jews". Thankfully I stopped myself.

I'm happy that someone somewhere, maybe this woman's employer or social worker or teacher, made such a Kiddush Hashem with her. It's nice to know that there are some Jews living up to their potential and making a real impression, showing how different Jews are.

I also couldn't help comparing Johnny's mother's opinion with what I constantly hear and read from my fellow Jews about the problems in the Jewish community. Yes, of course we have our problems, but why does lashon harah have to be so rampant? Why do we all (myself included) have to be so judgmental about Jews who aren't exactly like us? This woman was so impressed by how I acted, how I dressed, that she immediately connected me with the Jewish community. And if a frum person came into the library, I bet she would have first thing looked to see what I was wearing on my head or how long my skirt was before deciding if I was a good person.

Of course it's easier to judge when we have to inside scoop. I know what length skirt a frum girl "should" be wearing, so I can judge someone quickly based on that. But Johnny's mother taught me something. She saw something good in me (Lord knows what) and it reinforced her opinion of Jews. Maybe I can also try to look for the good and try to have a better opinion of my fellow Jews. If we stop judging one another so much, maybe more people will have a good opinion about us. Maybe we can join forces instead of unendingly tearing one another down.

Isn't that the ultimate Kiddush Hashem, after all?

Holden Caulfield: The Quintessential Yeshiva Bachur at Risk

2007-12-05T09:14:00.000-05:00

I think every teenager reading Catcher in the Rye for the first time assumes Holden Caulfield is based on him or herself. I know when I read it for the first time I felt like J.D. Salinger had tapped my phone or something to research his book (little did I know the Holden first appeared in a story written in 1945). But I think our dear pal Holden is especially reminiscent of a "teen at risk" struggling with the frum world today. For example:

He gets kicked out of a bunch of schools- Holden is obviously what parents and teachers would call a troublemaker but if we know one thing about him, it's that he has a good heart. He has one or two teachers that he's close with and he feels bad about how disappointed his parents are in him...he has a hard time in school, but that doesn't make him the "bad influence" that authority figures so often take him for.

He's a cynic- what disillusioned yeshiva student hasn't experienced that moment when he realizes that the white shirt and black hat mean NOTHING if you don't really believe in what you're doing? If there's one thing Holden hates, it's phonies. He tries to keep it real but doesn't really trust anyone other than himself.

He's starved for female attention- this mostly has to do with the fact that he goes to an all-boys' prep school. Like all yeshiva boys, Holden spends a lot of time planning where and how to meet girls (and how to get them alone).

Deep down, he's an optimist- Holden loves his family, especially his little sister Phoebe. He respects her opinion and wants to make her and his parents proud. He seems certain that one day he'll figure out what life's all about. Basically, he's a mensch.

Although Catcher in the Rye ends with Holden's future still undetermined, I like to think that he spends a few more years screwing around, drinking and hanging out with his friends, but then he goes to Israel for a couple of years, calms down a little bit, and maybe even settles down and gets married. He still likes to reminisce about the good old days bumming around with his crew every once in a while on a Shabbos afternoon.

And he still can't stand those phonies...

-Frum Librarian

I have been tagged...

2007-12-03T09:19:00.000-05:00

Since I am insanely self-absorbed and something of a loser, I am very excited to have been tagged. Sadly I don't have 8 people to tag (not sure if this is due to the self-absorption or loserosity). Anyway, I will do my post:

8 Passions in my life:
Correct grammar and spelling

Good smells

BOOKS!!

Singing in the shower

Midos

Tolerance of other cultures, ethnicities, religions, etc.

My husband

My kids

8 Things to do before I die:

Go skydiving

Complete Tshuva

Publish something that I write

Teach my kids how to be good people

Learn how to play a musical instrument

Have a better relationship with my parents

Learn how to say NO

Go into outer space (seriously)

8 Things I often say:

Whatever

Interesting...

I'm going to count to 3

Like ( I know, this is so ditzy)

Fabulous

Just Google it!

Could be

You know?

8 Books I read recently:

Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie

Water for Elephants by Sara Gruen

Freakonomics by Stephen J Dubner and Steven Levitt

The Headmaster Ritual by Taylor Antrim

The Raw Shark Texts by Steven Hall

Saturday by Ian McEwan

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

Here Be Dragons by Sharon Kay Penman

8 Songs that mean something to me:

Jealousy (Gin Blossoms)

Sunburn (Fuel)

Old L.A. Tonight (Ozzy Osbourne)

Something to Believe In (The Offspring)

Angel (Stabbing Westward)

Sister (The Nixons)

Self Esteem (The Offspring- I could have done this category as 8 Offspring songs that mean something to me)

Right Through You (Alanis Morissette)

8 Qualities I look for in a friend:

Intelligence

Sense of Humor

Loyalty

Consideration

Tolerance

Good fashion sense (cuz lord knows I need help in that area!)

Immaturity

Patience

I don't really have anyone to tag, but if you want to be tagged, let me know, I'll do it!

-FL

Which Type of iPassenger Are You?

2007-11-30T10:20:00.000-05:00

One of my hobbies is people watching on public transportation. The sheer variety of the types of people that go on and off the buses and trains in the 5 boroughs astounds me. I love to try to guess where people are going, what they are thinking about, and especially, what kind of music they are listening to. And one thing I've noticed, especially in the past few years since iPods became an absolute necessity, is that there are a plethora of different music-listening styles.

The Dead-Pan- sometimes I wonder if this person has any music on at all. He (for some reason, I picture this one as a guy) stares straight ahead, no bopping, lip-syncing or even toe-tapping. Maybe he is listening to a shiur?

The Soul Singer- My absolute favorite, along with the next one. Usually black or Hispanic women, they sing along to bits and pieces of the music at the top of their lungs. Very entertaining.

The Rapper- The male counterpart of the Soul Singer, he can sometimes be a little frightening, depending on how gangsta the music is that he's listening to.

The Air Guitarist/Lip Syncer- I'm a little embarrassed to say, this is the one I usually fall into. I try to keep my hands in my pockets, but for those of us with this crippling disorder, we know it can be difficult to fight. If you see me, try not laugh.

The Sleeper- this one's for my husband, who has a special slow song mix on his iPod for when he wants to sleep on the train without a fast song coming on and scaring the crap out of him. Personally, I'd miss my stop if I fell asleep with music on.

Well, whichever one you are, I like to see people getting into their music and enjoying themselves. As long as you are not listening to Fergie.

-FL

wr r u hngng out mtzy shbs?

2007-11-28T11:19:00.000-05:00

Aaah, to be young again! I just read a very interesting article that discusses how teens use IMing and texting to avoid embarrassing face to face interactions. Basically, that age-old dilemma of how to ask a girl out, break up with your ball and chain boyfriend, tell your best friend she is a backstabbing bitch has been SOLVED by modern technology.

So I got to thinking about how very awesome this is for modern day frum teens. I'm so happy I got to take advantage of this trend! My husband and I basically text messaged our way through the first 6 months of our relationship. No more sneaking around, telling your parents you are sleeping at Shprintzy's house, only to change into your cool clothing (which may or may not include jeans, depending on how rebellious you are) right outside and meet the latest yeshiva "it" guys at the pool place, movie theater or ice cream store in a nearby neighborhood (but not your own). Now, you whip out your cell phone, he whips out his and you can profess undying love for each other until all hours. Or tell each other how "cute" you are.

Seriously, I think this just proves how much of a losing battles all those parents, teachers, and rabbis are facing when they forbid contact with the opposite sex. Maybe in the good old days, you could lock your kid in his room until he was in college and it was suddenly "tachlis" time. (He was probably sneaking out the window anyway). But now, the only way to do it is to ban cell phones, computers, and basically everything invented in the past 20 years. And we all know that Frum Librarian is most certainly not in favor of banning the Internet! Information is not something to run from, in my very humble opinion.

I know the whole "mingling with the opposite sex" discussion is too exhaustive for one little post. But I think it's probably time for all the authorities out there to realize that teens today are feeling more stifled than stimulated by unnecessary restrictions. I know I'm not a teenager anymore(although I sometimes forget) and my rebellious days are over, but I for one am not going to throw my PC out the window so my kids will be spared the horrors of a little late-night IMing. They are always going to find a way to hang out, and if it isn't in real life, then it will be virtually.

As for it sparing anyone embarrassment, well you can ask my husband to verify this, but it's not that difficult to put your foot in your mouth in cyberspace either. The only benefit is that when you are texting or IMing, the guy you are talking to can't see you blush.

-Frum Librarian

What is a frum librarian?

2007-11-26T10:35:00.000-05:00

Contrary to popular belief, I do not wear my hair in a frizzy, graying bun. I also do not wear scratchy, woolly cardigans or little half glasses perched on my nose.

Actually I wear a headband fall on most days.

Being a frum librarian is more of a catch-22 than one might think. After all, librarians are goody-goodies. They shush you. They tell you to turn off your cell phones and reprimand you for returning The Devil Wears Prada two days late. They like to read for heaven’s sake! And a nice frum girl who went to Bais Yaakov and is married with kids is probably a good-goody as well. She always covers her knees (well, usually). She doesn’t smoke or use any controlled substances. She didn’t have premarital sex, and hey, this is 2007, everyone has premarital sex!
So being a frum librarian should be pretty easy. But that’s just plain wrong. What people don’t know about librarians are, they’re (sssssssh) secretly cool. In grad school all those old lady professors with the half glasses on a chain, they tell you to damn the man! They can go on and on forever about censorship and freedom of speech and why it’s just plain stupid for Harry Potter to be banned, or why the parents who don’t let their kids read about a penguin baby being raised by 2 fathers are probably red-state rednecks, close-minded conservatives who’ve never been inside a museum in their lives! And trust me, in library school, that’s a very bad thing!

I encountered way more weed in library school than in high school, that’s for sure. Every third woman in my Reader’s Advisory class was gay (and I would say 75% of the guys were also). We impressionable clunky-shoe wearing, black-nail-polished, pot-smoking library students were exhorted to place freedom of speech and the spreading of all knowledge, the dissemination of information above everything else. The INTERNET was like the Holy Grail. Not exactly in keeping with the Bais Yaakov mentality, huh?

Which is why, I guess it isn’t really that much of a catch-22 after all. It was the perfect place for me. Ok, I did go to Bais Yaakov. But it wasn’t BY of Boro Park or something. And while I would definitely call myself frum, Orthodox, whatever, I would definitely not call myself yeshivish by any stretch of the imagination. I like to think of myself as a semi-reformed formerly cynical product of the not-so-perfect current yeshiva system. Or something like that. Confused? So am I.

Well, whatever exactly it is that I am, all I can tell you for sure is that I am a

-Frum Librarian