This is not how it was supposed to happen...

It was back to work after a four day weekend for us, observant Jews. I can't say that I missed work, but I wasn't dreading it either. As I was waiting for the train, all of a sudden I saw a familiar face, someone I haven't seen in a while. After his obligatory, "How's everything, how are the kids? You still got two?", and my obligatory, "Thank God, everything is fine, yes we still got two, and you guys?" an uncomfortable silence followed. The guy said, "You might not know, but we (another uncomfortable silence) split." I probably looked shocked because he added, "It's okay. It was a while ago, about two years now." And then went on about how he still has a relationship with his daughter, that he sees her during the week and every Shabbat. How he is looking to get remarried, and that he already started going out. The guy who was always very cheerful and with a smile on his face, seemed beat and a bit depressed. Our conversation was interrupted by the oncoming train. My friend offered to go to the first car with him, but I declined. I just could not bear having this conversation any longer.

The first time I found out that someone close to me was having marital difficulties and subsequently got a divorce, I cried for a good half hour the minute I hung up the phone. I couldn't calm down for about a week. This time I think I coped a bit better; not being in the privacy of my own home helped avoiding tears that still welled up in my eyes. I still remember the couple's wedding: how happy they seemed, how hard my friends and I went out of our way to show up at least for half an hour because it happened on the same night as our classmate's. No, these two weren't a couple that seemed rock solid simply because I didn't know them very well, but they both seemed to be very nice people and really fond of each other. And yes, they seemed a bit mismatched, but isn't every couple to some degree a bit mismatched?

For whatever reason, I take these news hard. The minute I got to work, I called my sil. I just had to talk to someone. Though in many respects she is a more sensitive person than I am, sil was taken aback by my reaction. After all, the agony is gone. They have been apart for two years. The fact that I just found out doesn't make it harder for them. So why am I so upset?

It's hard to explain. For one, it isn't supposed to happen. Happily ever after is rarely blissfully and problem free happy, but it still is ever after, right? At least it's supposed to be. Once you go through the chupah, you shouldn't be looking for someone else five years down the road. And divorces shouldn't happen to nice people. And little girls (and boys) aren't meant to see their fathers only on week ends. Not in my world. Not in my universe. (I almost want to say "Not on my watch", but think it might sound stupid. At this point I am already crying because I am in the privacy of my own home...)

The saddest scene I have ever had to witness happened about five years ago, when I was getting my nails done for my date with SubHub, at this point only a potential Hub. I was completely and utterly bored and looked out the window. I saw a man and a girl. The girl wanted to get a ride on one of those mechanical ponies that some owners put outside of their stores. The man put a girl on the pony, put a quarter in and turned my way. I realized that I knew him; he was recently divorced. It hit me that it must be his week end date with his daughter. While the girl was completely consumed by the pony ride, the father seemed to be unable to get enough of her: he would constantly touch her hair, pat her hand, fix her dress and hug her. The man couldn't look at anything else around him except his little girl. I had to turn away, it was too painful to watch. I have never been able to tell this story without getting choked up. I can't even put it on my blog without doing so.

No, divorces are not supposed to happen. Yet they do... I do realize that there are times when divorce is the best option for everyone involved, children included. I realize this with my head, but my heart refuses to accept that and stubborn tears do not want to dry up...

Another thing I hate about you...

I don't know how I could have forgot this one!!!!


#13. (in reality should be much higher on the list) - People who still haven't discovered the invention of deodorant!!!! Especially the ones that take a subway! Especially on 34th or 42nd street! And if on top of it they wear flip flops....

12 things I hate about you

I am the first one to admit that I dislike summer. I didn't dislike summer before I came to New York, but here the minute winter is over, the temperatures get into high 80s within days, making spring virtually non existent. So here are some of the reasons why I dislike NY summer:


12. It is harder to hide extra weight in light summer clothes. Also, finding modest summer clothing that doesn't suffocate the wearer. requires all the skills of Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple combined.

11. Flip flops, everywhere. I don't know why, but they are annoying.

10. Allergies

9. Heat

8. Bill for electricity, double the usual amount due to constantly running air conditioners. For some reason I don't mind the extra expense of ice cream consumption. I wonder why...

7. The music from the ice cream truck!!!

6. Inevitable arguments in the middle of the night, "I want to raise the temperature, I am cold", "But I am hot as is!" "But I am REALLY cold and can't sleep" "Well, get a blanket" "I already have a blanket!" "Then take the winter blanket!!" "Don't you think the temperature is too low if I have to use WINTER blanket in the middle of the SUMMER?!!!. There is a reason why they call it a WINTER BLANKET!!!!!" Not really conducive to the marital harmony. Makes cold winters look really romantic, when one's natural inclination is to cozy up to the significant other...

5. Cooking in the hot kitchen.

4. Having to figure out ways to warm up the food on Shabbat without melting itsconnoisseurs.

3. Ants. Everywhere. Literally. Having to check EVERYTHING in the kitchen for the presence of their little bodies. Even salt. Ewww. Also reminds me of the ant story in Hundred Years of Solitude, bringing back unusually strong desire to strangle the author and hug my children all at once.

2. Mosquitoes, bees, beetles and all other insects that are unusually active during summers.

1. Taking subway. If anyone had ever taken a subway on 34th or particularly 42nd St in Manhattan in the middle of the scorching heat wave, they would know what I am talking about: temperatures that is 10-15 degrees higher than on the surface, terrible smells of subway, hardly pleasant in the chilly weather, intensified tenfold during the summer, gasping for every breath; need I go on? Those who believe in the flames of hell should try it - a very good deterrent against sinning...

No thank you, that's too much sodium for my taste...

I have made a decision recently to start bringing my own lunch (probably seventh decision of this sort since the beginning of the year). First of all, my own lunch would be healthier; secondly, it would save me time to do other things during lunchtime; and lastly, it should save me money. So it is easier said than done, but for a few days last week I actually managed to bring something edible to work.

Last Wednesday I was rushing in the morning, and could not find my usual lunch container. I grabbed the first thing that I found in the drawer and left with it. When the time came to warm it up, I proceeded to double wrap my container and put it in the microwave. A few seconds later my co-worker came for the same reason I was in the lunchroom. He watched me taking out my bundle of food out of the microwave, and I saw his eyebrows go up as he saw multiple wrappings, but he kept to himself. Then after I unwrapped my food, he could no longer contain himself.

"Pickles? Sour pickles? You are warming up sour pickles????"

Of course not, I was just using the plastic container, but decided not to reveal the true contents of my lunch. And then I asked him if there were any packages of ketchup left over from the lunch served during some morning meeting the day before. And again, "Ketchup??? With sour pickles???" After my co-worker regained his composure, he said, "I believe those go better with soy sauce. Would you like some?"

My turn to raise eyebrows. I didn't realize he had a sense of humor.