Integrity and Regeneration

Shalom, y'all. Let's get right into the crux of the matter, which is, obviously, that the word moist is the grossest word in the English language. And if you disagree, then you're wrong. 

This isn't random. It has very real import in my life. You see, in my line of work (AKA teaching), we run into some issues. Those issues being vowel families. Vowel families, of course, are families of vowels. 

Side point: you know those words that you look up in the dictionary, and to define the word they use another form of that word. This came up in our intro to computers class. We were learning about recursion, and Google has a sense of humor. When you look up recursion, Google says, "You mean recursion." He he he. If you didn't laugh, it means you're not a nerd. 

But the definition of recursion is "the repeated application of a recursive procedure or definition." Well, thanks Google. That clears things up. 

Anyway, that was all a tangent. Back to the issue at hand: vowel families, which, as the name suggests, are two vowels together. 

Now, most vowel families are perfectly innocuous, like ay or ee, which make completely normal, non-vomit-inducing words like clay or feel. But then there are the troublemakers, most notably the oi. Because, my dear readers, that creates a word spelled moist. And, as I was teaching that vowel family on Wednesday, we had that word over and over again. 

But the worst part of the whole situation was that I had to act all mature because I'm the teacher, and I wasn't able to throw up every time that word appeared. Nu, such is the life of being a mature adult with a job. Grossness.

So, besides for that wonderful addition to my work, much else happened this week. 

My friend and chavrusa and awesome Brit person, Adina Chalk, and I finished shaar habusha in Orchos Tzaddikim. Only took us like four months. So, that was exciting. 

My friend, Shloims, and I did yoga this week. There we were, two girls lying on the floor, complaining about how hard this is and how much our arms hurt, but being entirely serious about the whole matter, when the yoga instructor says, "And now, find your integrity." Well, that just ruined the whole vibe. We burst out laughing, clearly ruining our "integrity." 

Besides for that, we also did very hard skills like dead man's pose, which is the most difficult position of lying on the floor and just breathing in and out. Another girl, Shana (AKA Shana Aleph), comes in and starts making fun of us. "Oh, I see you're working really hard." Well, we were, up until that point. You should have seen us doing happy baby—lying on our backs and holding the souls of our feet with our palms. On second thought, glad you didn't see us doing that. There are just certain things you can't unsee, no matter how much you desperately want to. 

So, yoga was fun and entertaining, for everyone in the dira and us. 

And then came Shabbos. Well, first came Friday, where I slept in way too late and packed very sparsely for Shabbos. I planned on doing laundry at the Stein's house, so I didn't really pack clothing. Which would have all been fine and dandy, had I not forgotten to take out my laundry from the dryer before Shabbos. So I didn't have pajamas. I slept in my hobo jacket. It all worked out in the end. 

I walked into the Stein's apartment and was immediately arrested by the sight of a huge silver 21. Me being me, I was like, "He he. I'm turning 12." And then of course, I went and stuck my head in between the two balloons, because that's just what you do when you're a mature 21-year-old. 

So, yes, Shabbos was my birfday. My goyishe birfday, obviously, but I'm not going to say no to cake. And there was lots of cake. We'll get to that later. 

First and foremost, the madrichois from last year made a whole music video for me. Like, they wrote and performed a song with dances and everything. I saw it before I left for Shabbos and immediately starting crying, because again, that's what you do when you're a mature 21-year-old. 

On the 40 minute bus ride, I had planned on doing important things, like homework. Nope. That plan flew out the window. I ended up watching the video multiple times during the bus ride. The poor person sitting next to me didn't know what to do. I was crying and hiccupping and laughing and singing along to the song all at the same time. It was very uncomfortable for her. I never claimed to have social skills. 

And all I have to say now is that the video was HUVUN. המבין יבין.

So, Shabbos was absolutely beautiful. I mentioned the cake before. Let me delve deep into the matter of the cake. The Steins got a massive, delicious cake from the bakery near them. It was really yummy. So that was cake 1. Then, I went for Shabbos lunch to my roommate's house. She lives in Ramat Beit Shemesh. More on that later. And there was another cake for dessert. So that was cake 2. And then, on Sunday when I got back to the dorms, there was a gigantic cake in the fridge, from the aforementioned adorable madrichois. So that was cake 3. I guess it's a good thing I like cake. Otherwise, things could have gotten very awkward. 

Besides for the cake, Shabbos was wonderful. Many things happened on the Shabbos of December 18th, 2021. 

There was, of course, the normal banter between the Steins and myself, the Hebrew-speaking (or trying-to-speak), the conversations about books (because we're nerds), the hot debate on how to get to my friend's house the next day (should I go through the mercaz? Up the steps? Down Tze'elim?), and the holy conversations, like with our parsha questions. There was also much mention of OPS. For all those who forgot, that means Old People Syndrome. I believe I have a serious case of it. I took a nap on Friday night at 10 pm. Didn't mean to. Just fell asleep on the couch and woke up at 1:00 am. That was either OPS or mono.

Whatever it may be, OPS is a real thing. The worst case I've ever seen of it was when someone (you know who you are), said OSP instead of saying OPS. Now, that is just sad. 

So, Friday night came and passed. Shabbos day dawned bright and early at 10:00 am. Before lunch, Mrs. Stein asked me to read this article about regeneration and snails getting their bodies cut off but still surviving. I know that sounds weirds, but it actually makes perfect sense. We--the Jewish people--are snails. We get our bodies cut off generation after generation, and yet we survive, our heads intact. It was in a Chanukah edition, so it all makes sense now. 

After that enlightening article, I went off to Tzivie's house. And I went the right way. Yes, Mr. Stein. Even though I had to walk up 134 steps, I went the best way. 

There, at Tzivie's house, I met a girl named Shana Aleph who is in Machon Tal. I also met Tzivie's awesome fam. First was lunch, with challah and dips and fish. Then we bentched. And then Mincha time. I went to shul at 1:00 pm. I was the only woman there. At least I didn't have to worry about stepping in front of anyone saying Shemonah Esrei. 

And then we had Shaleshudis. I just realized that the word hudi is in shaleshudis. Sorry for that unimportant tidbit of info. 

Afterwards, we talked and played and read. I read this amazing Dr. Seuss book. It is so funny. It's called You're Only Old Once. And it is now one of my favorite Dr. Seuss books, right up there next to Fox in Socks. 

And then I went back to the Steinsies for the fourth meal of the Sabbath day. Oh, you didn't know? You're supposed to have four meals on Shabbos. So awkward for you. 

I did not go hungry that Shabbos, that's for sure. 

And then came that dreaded moment--Shabbos was over. Except now I hold 72 hours, so not really. 

Motzei Shabbos was pretty normal, until it wasn't. I got a surprise visit from Tzivie, who said that the water in dira 5 was off. A pipe burst, so no showers, no sinks, no toilets. Just in our apartment. She offered to host me for the night, and then I would go back to Yerushalayim on Sunday.

So, I took her up on that offer. Call me weird, but I happen to like running water. Must be because I'm odd again. 

So, I was about to leave the Steins when I realized that I didn't take my gigantic silver balloons with me. So they got tied onto my carry-on. And I walked through the streets of Ramat Beit Shemesh with these massive balloons flying through the air. 

At Tzivie's house, we played fierce games of boggle until 11:30. And I mean fierce. There was much competition happening. I didn't care who won. I was talking through the whole thing. I think certain players wanted to kill me by the end. 

And then, I went to sleep. The next morning, I got on a bus to go to Yerushalayim, for we have school on Sundays. And on that bus I went, with my gigantic balloons stuffed in the compartment under the bus. 

I got to Yerushalayim just a few minutes before class started, so I had no time to go back to the dorms. And so I walked through the streets of Givat Shaul carrying those balloons. And it was a windy day, let me tell you. My balloons had a mind of their own, slamming into the poor people walking behind me, beside me, in front of me. They even flew into the street a few times. Cars were swerving to avoid the flying monstrosities. I wouldn't be surprised if all that traffic on Kanfei Nesharim was because of my balloons. 

Sunday's class was quite fun. We read some Rambam for our intro to computer science class. We got chocolate. We learned about some functions. All good fun. 

And then, Sunday night, we dug into the cake that the madrichois got me. It was beautiful with roses all along the top and blue frosting. And it was vanilla, my favorite! It is pictured below in all of its former glory, before it was destroyed by our hands and forks. Who am I kidding? Just our hands. Civilized? Not us. 

Of course, before we ate it, my friends had to decorate my face with the frosting. 

And then we all attacked the cake like a bunch of girls who hadn't eaten cake since last night. 

Monday was very windy and rainy. There was a storm abrewin'. It was freezing outside. Some girls literally wore three layers for the walk to school. I didn't have work on Monday because of the storm, so that was nice. I ended up working on my website for one of my classes. We did a presentation a few weeks ago on some technology. I randomly chose humanoid robots, and I thought I was done with them. Nope. Wishful thinking. I now have to make an entire website on these stupid things that I literally don't care about. I love life. 

Wow, this was a long one. Had to make up for last week's shvachness. So, I think that's all. 

Hope you all have a good week. 

Toodles from Hoodles!