Hudi's Home!

Quote: "Your mind is like an airplane bathroom: always occupied, and in the rare times it's not, it's about to be." The above profound statement was said by a dear friend in a very interesting moment. I would go into more depth about that moment, but some things are just better left unsaid. For everyone's sake and sanity. In other news, Shabbos was lovely. I was in Gaza with Faeven and my aunt and uncle. For the first time ever, I actually went to neitz with my uncle. Must have been Faeven's good influence. The davening was beautiful, slow and meaningful. The food was delicious, the company was great, and I started reading an amazing book by Rav Asher Weiss on the Yomim Noraim. So, a great Shabbos, baruch Hashem, which led pretty much into Rosh Hashana.  Now, here I come to a dilemma. Now, if you've just happened upon this blog (in which case, I'm extremely sorry for you and your brain cells) you might not know, but this blog is generally light-hearted...

Breaking news: The construction has stopped. I repeat, the construction has stopped!!!!! Sabotage plans may be postponed indefinitely. I will let you know if anything has changed. But for now, put away the tasers and the stun guns and the pitchforks.  But that is not the most exciting news of the week, if you can believe it. A. and D. Shparkus are married! They are now the Shparkuses (Shparkesi?)! The wedding was absolutely beautiful. It was a stunning location, amongst gardens and flowers and trees. And the food was incredible. And the Sparkly Kallah was radiant, as was her entire fam jam.  I danced like a dork, got a meaningful and poignant bracha from the Sparkly Kallah, hung out with Avi (brother of said Sparkly Kallah) was told a dvar Torah from the Kallah's grandfather, hugged Tzivie, and just enjoyed the simcha.  The Shtiq (no, that's not a typo. Shtiq is with a Q. Didn't you know that?) was hilarious and so well done, and I'm just so many happies for all the Shp...

Have you ever started making a mocha cake and then realize that you have barely any coffee for the job? Makes for one awkward mocha cake. Mine came out like a chocolate cake that was trying way too hard to be coffee-like.  Anywho, baking in a state-of-the-art kitchen with no measuring cups, mixers, or any other very normal thing that people have in their houses was quite a fun experience.  Avigayil and I baked a cake for Avigial's birthday, and we had to make it yummy and pretty because Avigial is literally a gourmet chef. Then, Avigayil, Shifra, and I "surprised" Avigial on Monday night with the cake. We then spent awhile schmoozing, reminiscing about seminary, eating the not-so-mocha mocha cake, and laughing a whole lot. So that was super cute. On the way back from Avigial's house, the bus stopped at a certain point, some boys got on the bus, and then they went to the next door of the bus and got off before it drove away from the stop. That was hilarious.  This pas...

If you listen very carefully, you can hear the drilling behind me. That's right. I'm home. And what a warm welcome to come back to construction at 6:30 am.  In all honesty, I'd take the construction any day if it means I can be in Israel again. It's good to be back.  Let me walk you through the entire situation. I was in Paris last week (well, the airport to be precise), and I hated every second of it. I feel like I shouldn't go on a whole rant about how I hate Europe right now, but know this: I hate Europe.  I did a bunch of schoolwork and work for my sis, and I ate some crackers. It was great. And then it was from Paris to my final destination. The plane ride was interesting. I was sitting next to this hyperactive 2-year-old kid who was obsessed with my tray table and my food. He was such a cutie. We became fast friends. His parents were mortified with his grabbing everything off of my seat and tray table, but I was loving it. It was great.  And then we landed in ...

There were 17 little Bartsies running around. One took off, and then there were 16. There were 16 little Bartsies running around. One took off, and then there were 15. (Rinse and repeat until there are only 4 little Bartsies.) I spent so many muches of time with my fam jam this week. We were all together for the wedding, and then gradually some left until there were just a few of us still in Richmond. My two oldest sisters and their kids came down to spend some time with us, so I got a lot of bonding time with my niephews. And no, I did not spell that wrong and you did not read that wrong. I am outraged that there is no one word for nieces and nephews. Let's just pull a frindle now. The new word is bloofs. Yeah, I hung out with my bloofs this week. I like this word. Anywho, my bloofs are adorable and I can't even deal with their cuteness and with Yitzy's haircut and Reuvy's voice and Binyomin's cough-laugh and Ahuva's bangs and Dovy's smile. So, the fam jam ...

She's married!! I repeat, she is married. A married woman, she is. However you say it, it means the same thing. We've married her off, we did it, weee Tzvi is the one. And her life as a wife has finally begun! (If you got the HP reference, good for you. HP, obviously meaning Hashgacha Pratis and/or Hercule Poirot and/or Harry Potter and/or house pie and/or health point and/or happy place.)  But, for now, let us speak of times long ago, when my sister was still just a Bart. I speak, of course, of last week.  I was on vacation for the first time in a very long while, and it was glorious. Malta and I made pizza crusts for old times sake. It was very cute, but I was literally sore the next day from rolling out all of those pies.  A dear friend and mentor came over with her kids to see us. We hung out outside, ate cookies, and spoke. We were speaking of plays, and she said, "I didn't know there were frum girls who had bad voices until I came to Richmond." I burst out l...

The Dorky Daily by Judith Brett: Hudi was sitting on her bed, laughing that awful laugh of hers, the one that caused those around her to question if she were laughing or choking or snorting or perhaps breathing obnoxiously loudly.  When her snorting laughs wouldn't stop, her father looked quizzically at her. "Is everything all right, daughter?" "Yep, I'm fine," Hudi choked out in between bursts of laughter. "I'm just reading my old blog posts. I don't even remember writing half of this stuff. It's kinda funny." And she went right on, reading her blog posts. The ones that she wrote. She was, in essence, laughing at herself for a good 15 minutes. Can you imagine anything more... dorky?  There are many things that you can take out of the above story, the most obvious one being that I'm a loser with waaaay too much time on my hands. But also, if you read carefully, notice that my father is mentioned. No, he's not in Israel. I'm ...