A Database of Jews

Last night I received a phone call at about 8:30pm. It was a telemarketer on a mission from God. Sometimes when telemarketers call I like to hear them out. Who knows, they might offer me a million dollars no strings attached just cause I stayed on the phone. Also, telemarketers are people too, and I'd hate to hurt my fellow man by hanging up on him abruptly. Though I must admit that it is a little embarrassing when Timelife calls me and says, "Ms. Aron, we see that you recently purchased Beavis and Butthead's first three volumes. How are you enjoying those so far?" I know these are people in their middle age years laughing about the ignoramus who bought beavis and butthead's first three seasons(though I do enjoy them). I almost want to engage them in conversation to see if they too enjoy Beavis, or if they prefer Butthead. Last night a gentleman called from the United Jewish Federation or something like that. You could tell he had a script because there was a long pause between each question. It was almost like he was anticipating me hanging up on him. He told me how the Jewish people had struggled over the years and how in these trying times it was important for Jews to stick together and help their own. The federation or what have you has been helping Jews across the world and in the chicagoland for years. Now, at this point I realized that he must know Im a Jew. I can't imagine calling a clan member and asking them for money to help the Jewish cause. But how did he know? How did he know!? After his schpiel about the greatness of Jews and yadda yadda yadda, he said, "So can we count on you to donate $150 by years end?" $150!!!! Who does this guy think I am? Money bags? So I said, "No, I can't afford that." He said, " What about $50?" Me, "Nope." Him, " How about $36 (I don't know where he got 36 from)" and I said, "No." Now, it wasn't so much that I couldn't afford $36 for my fellow brethren, but to be honest, I am weary of organizations that only help their own. Especially religious organizations. I'd much rather give much cash to health research, feeding hungry kids or NPR. So then I asked this gentleman who I believe was not Jewish (don't ask me why),"How did you get my number?" and he said, and very curtly I might add, " Our database." I said, "you have a database of JEWS!?" He said, "Yes." and then hung up on me. 1. I won because he hung up on me before I hung up on him. 2. Maybe if he asked me for $3.56 I would have given it to him, I think he stopped a little short with $36. 3. A database of Jews?! How is that possible? How did I get on that list? I never signed a Jewish guestbook or signed up for Jewish emails. I never even went on J-date. Jews aren't necessarily the most beloved group of folks either. Some people seem to have it in for us. And if the day comes where they want to find some Jews quick, my blond hair and Christmas tree love aren't going to save me. If I'm on a database of Jews, I imagine that would be the kiss of death. But what the hell. I'm a Jew and I'm proud, so if I'm on some database, well, maybe I should be proud. I worry that I am "not Jewish enough" sometimes, but like I said, if I'm on a database reserved only for Jews, that must mean I'm a true blue Jew. This database will hold up in Israel right? I can use it as proof if they doubt my heritage? These are questions I should have asked before the telemarketer hung up. To be honest, in writing this blog, I realize that I get a catalog from the Jewish Federation. It has stuff like menorrah's and skull caps and dreidels. I think my mom signed me up for a subscription as a Christmas gift last year along with Newsweek and Bon Appetite. And just like an episode of Law and Order, the mystery of this blog has been solved in one hour(as sad as it is, that is how long it took for me to write this).

My BFF turns 24!

Hurrah Hurray! It’s Lindsay's birthday!! That’s right, one of my oldest friends just turned twenty-four today and I’d like to make this blog a tribute to her because I think she is just fabulous. So to start, a compare and contrast between Lindsay and myself.
Differences between Linds and me:
She has great fashion sense, I do not. She prefers a white, black and green color scheme, while I prefer a little more color. She studied abroad in England while I went to Spain. She doesn’t eat red meat, I happen to love it. She is beautifully in shape, I am not. She can run for at least an hour (I’m fairly sure she can run for more than that, but I’m keeping it safe), I can’t really run for more than 20 paces, definitely can’t finish a mile. She can get tan, I cannot. She’s got mad graphic design and art skills. I don’t. She doesn’t have a garbage can, I do. She does not have a blog, I do.
Similarities between Linds and me:
We both Aries, and both 24, and both fabulous, and both living in Chicago, both transfer students (her more than me), both lovers of sushi, both skiers, both scuba divers, both enjoy dancing, both can laugh our behinds off at each other, both like to sing loudly in the car, both early to bed-ers, both apple picker and both fantastic people to know.

Ok, enough compare and contrast. Basically, I am trying to illustrate that while we are very different people, we have some key personality traits in common that have bonded us together for life. I was going to list off some of my favorite memories with her and I couldn’t choose which to include. Do I tell how we would sit on each other’s stomachs and just start laughing hysterically without really being able to stop? Or do I tell about driving in her car around Chicago signing Junior Senior at the top of our lungs, dancing like fools? Or maybe her birthday last year when she took a shot out of the ass of a plastic sheep? Or how about when we were in 5th grade, flanked with the third of our whole unit, Monica, and we snuck into the boy’s military academy? Or maybe when we would dance and act the night away, all for the video camera to capture? Our days on the field hockey field? Or maybe the Smokey Mountains? Or the Virgin Islands? Or Canada? Or Prom? Or any freaking time I am with the girl? Because any minute I am with her is a favorite moment. To have a friend who you can laugh with and cry with and gossip with and dance with and sing with and act a fool with and be yourself with, even if you are molded out of completely different clay from one another, is the most special, happy, wonderful feeling in the world. Lindsay is a person who can cheer me up with a doodle from her notepad or a phone call or a ride in her car. I’m so lucky to be her friend, and be able to celebrate her birthday together. So three cheers to the talented, caring, charming, beautiful Lindsay. I love you to death and wish you many more happy birthdays to come!

Feelings, nothing more than feelings

Long time no see, eh? I know, I know, I have been super lax in writing. Finding time and topics to write about aren’t as easy as I first anticipated. I could talk to you about the BBQ beef I ate for lunch, or the waitress at Goose Island who looks just like my friend from 6th grade, but I have a feeling those topics interests no one, including myself. I’m starting a new project for work soon involving injecting drugs users, so I imagine that will provide me with some life commentaries.
I wrote a blog entry about a week ago. It was about looking to the future and things men and women have to think about as they get older. It was a little more personal than I usually write, so after having it posted for about 3 hours, I took it down. I felt naked and vulnerable and uncomfortable. It wasn’t anything that private, most people who know me probably know my thoughts about the future anyway, but for some reason, I was really uncomfortable having that information up there for all to see and reference. Which brings me to my point. If I’m not going to share a little private piece of myself, why blog in the first place? I once asked my mother if she read my blog. She said no. She said that it wasn’t me, and she didn’t want to read my diary and my private thoughts. I reassured her I never really put anything too private up and she counter by asking, “Well then why do it?” I didn’t have a good answer, though I pretended like I did so that she wouldn’t think herself smarter than I…I doubt she was convinced. From most blogs I read, people don’t really put too much of themselves out there. They don’t talk about their secret dreams, their crushes, their devastations. Yet, I still enjoy reading them. Maybe what we need from a blog is to be filled in on the simple details and opinions of our friends on a daily (or weekly or monthy) basis. As for the big stuff, well, that’s what phones and road trips are for. Maybe by putting the really big emotions into a blog, we render one on one communication useless. Why call Cindy Lu to find out about how she feels about her new romance when I can just read it in her blog? I don’t actually think this is why we don’t put down the intimate details in blog format. I actually think it is because once you put that information out there for all to see, and there is a permanent record of how you feel; you can never deny that feeling. You can’t deny you were scared or hurt or elated. Everyone already knows. You have no more secrets and you have no more barriers. Maybe a world filled with people with their guard down would be a better place, but I, for one, am not about to be the first to start.