Winning Through Jewish Geography

Here's how Jewish Geography works:

Jewish Person #1: You're from NY? Me too!
Jewish Person #2: Oh, that's so funny! What part?
JP #1: Woodbury, you?
JP #2: Five Towns, and my best friend was from Syosset.
JP #1: Really? What year did she graduate?
JP #2: In '94. Melissa Cohen/Rubin/Goldstein/Goldman/Goldberg/Blumberg/Bloom
JP #1: Wait, does she have a sister named Lauren?
JP #2: Yes!
JP #1: I know her - we went to camp together! 

At work, our subtenant is a law firm, which so far consists of three people. One of whom seems like a younger, gayer, more awkward, less-funny version of Jerry Seinfeld. Complete with the whiny tone of voice.

He's from the Bay Area, but his family is from Long Island. We started playing Jewish Geography, and within two minutes had found our one degree each of separation. His mother and aunt showed up to see where he worked (the mother made him pose pretending to be on the office phone at his desk while she took a picture), and I'm sure if I'd time to say more than hello to them, we'd have found more connections.

Failed Dinners

I was reading the Slack Mistress's blog post about last night's dinner, and it reminded me of something from long ago. In the olden days, we Yogurts used to host one of the two Passover seders each spring. My mother would start cooking at least a week before Passover started, freezing cooked dishes in the basement freezer.

Back in my high school years, one night I passed through the kitchen to say good night to my mother before heading to bed. She'd been cooking all day, and would be cooking long into the evening. When I arrived in the kitchen my mother was just about to put two apple-maztah kugels in the oven before going to pee. These kugels are so good that we always had two - one to put on the table for the seder, and one for our immediate family to enjoy throughout Passover.

As my mom went to slide one tin into the oven, she somehow dropped it, and it flipped upside-down before landing all over the floor. We looked at each other in horrified shock. My poor mother burst into tears at the stress of having to clean up a huge mess so late at night while also having to desperately pee.

I decided to postpone bed and told my mom I'd start cleaning up and she should go to the bathroom. When she came back, she thanked me. As my mother handed me more wet paper towels to clean the floor she said to me, "We just won't put a kugel on the table this year."

This was so unlike my mother - to save the remaining one for us, but speaks to how much we all loved that kugel. I still usually make it at least once a year.

Please, join me by sharing your biggest dinner disaster in the comments.

It's All Her Fault

Wide Lawn's link made me pee my pants. Century Village is an actual old-people community in ... shit, not Lake Worth ... ummm.... well, somewhere. My point is, it's real. (And I think I recognized that lady on the right named Evelyn.)

Excuse me while I go change my pants.

To My MOTs, Happy Passover

And to my non-MOT readers, I hope you have a Happy Passover also. You may be wondering what exactly Passover is, and how you've gotten to be so old without ever finding out. Now you're an adult and embarrassed to ask, but feel you should know, it's a big mess. If you're jewish, you may be wondering if you're too old to sneak soup nuts under the table during the long, long seder, and the answer is, you are, sorry. But you're not too old to search for the aifikomen. However, there is more good news. You're also not too old to be open to a different, condensed version of the seder. Here's my favorite:

Opening prayers:

Thanks, God, for creating wine. (Drink wine.)

Thanks for creating produce. (Eat parsley.)

Overview: Once we were slaves in Egypt. Now we're free. That's why we're doing this.

Four questions:
1. What's up with the matzoh?
2. What's the deal with horseradish?
3. What's with the dipping of the herbs?
4. What's this whole slouching at the table business?

Answers:
1. When we left Egypt, we were in a hurry. There was no time for making decent bread.
2. Life was bitter, like horseradish.
3. It's called symbolism.
4. Free people get to slouch.

A funny story: Once, these five rabbis talked all night, then it was morning. (Heat soup now.)

The four kinds of children and how to deal with them:
Wise child—explain Passover.
Simple child—explain Passover slowly.
Silent child—explain Passover loudly.
Wicked child—browbeat in front of the relatives.

Speaking of children: We hid some matzoh. Whoever finds it gets five bucks.

The story of Passover: It's a long time ago. We're slaves in Egypt. Pharaoh is a nightmare. We cry out for help. God brings plagues upon the Egyptians. We escape, bake some matzoh. God parts the Red Sea. We make it through; the Egyptians aren't so lucky. We wander 40 years in the desert, eat manna, get the Torah, wind up in Israel, get a new temple, enjoy several years without being persecuted again. (Let brisket cool now.)

The 10 Plagues: Blood, Frogs, Lice—you name it.

The singing of "Dayenu":
If God had gotten us out of Egypt and not punished our enemies, it would've been enough. If he'd punished our enemies and not parted the Red Sea, it would've been enough.

If he'd parted the Red Sea—(Remove gefilte fish from refrigerator now.)

Eat matzoh. Drink more wine. Slouch.

Thanks again, God, for everything.

SERVE MEAL.

Aaaaaaand, Scene!

Hanukah is over now, and for me, the last night of it was the best night of it. Golden Boy and Crazy Girl had invited me over for dinner, menorah-lighting, latkes and presents, and I almost didn't get to do Hanukah because a partner asked me to work late, but it all came together in the end.

While I was still at work last night, the other (jewish) partner I work with stopped by my desk to chat, and Hanukah came up. He asked how I made out. "Great! I got almost all my presents delivered on time, and just have one Christmas present to mail out." He smiled and said good for you, and we moved on.

It was only later that I realized he'd been asking if I got good presents. Guess I'm growing up.

Hanukah

I saw Hanukah socks made by Hot Sox that were much cuter than the ones pictured here, with different colored dreidels, last time I was in Nordstrom's. And I paused when I saw them, because Loose Earlobe Lady would TOTALLY wear those. She'd love them, and she'd show them off to everybody. I thought about buying them for her. Then I thought about all the mean things she says, and decided, "Fuck it. Fuck her. There are better ways to spend my money than on someone who's consistently mean to me."

Despite last week's horrible project that forced us to work together, we got along quite nicely. And then today when I arrived at work, there was a brand new menorah on my chair. LEL bought me a menorah. For no reason at all, except to be nice.

Guess I'm going to go buy some socks later this week.