Yesterday some guy followed me up the stairs on a subway transfer (that it turned out he wasn’t taking, just creepily following me like a creepy creep creep) and after the requisite come-on line (which I won’t burn your retinas with), he instantly whips out the line I’ve grown so accustomed to hearing: “What’s your heritage?”

Here’s what I don’t understand (well, here’s one of many, many, many things I don’t understand):

Why does every guy in New York who approaches me want to know my ethnicity?

And I’m serious about this. Because, look. I live in New York City. There are more Jews (such as moi) here than like everywhere ever. I should not be so unidentifiable.

For me, there are two varieties of these guys. The guy cited above fits into the first category: guys who guess. And they always guess Italian, Puerto Rican, or Greek. Seriously. And I am pale like the squishy underbelly of a cabbage.

The other category of guys are guys who want to know if I’m Jewish. These guys are usually Muslim or Israeli and nothing in between. I don’t know why either group bothers–I’m too Jewish for the Muslims and not Jewish enough for the Israelis. So it goes.

And why, friends, why oh why for the love of all that is good and not annoying, why do they need to know my heritage in the first place? When did this become an acceptable thing to ask a stranger? Read More »

Every year for Passover, I give up bread, grains, etc. for 8 days. Why? Because this is how we do.

My mother told me she used to bring tuna sandwiches on matzoh every year every day for all of Passover. I can’t imagine how she did this. Tuna on matzoh is basically disgusting.

But I digress. This morning my Chinese-American-Non-Jew boyfriend walked into our living room, took one look at me eating buttered matzoh, and said, “Hey, Matzoh Girl.”

That was it for me, folks. I am going to document the 8 days of my Passover Diet here on College Candy.

Side Note: I am calling it a diet only in the sense that it is a way of eating. Unfortunately, it is not a losing weight diet. Every year I think it might be. I mean, the Atkins Diet is, right? Unfortunately, every year I also end up eating a lot of cheese and junk food to fill up when bread is not possible, and so it ends up…let’s say evening out. Yeah. Evening out.

So, okay, last night through this morning:

Right before the sun went down, I had my last bread meal before Passover: a chicken gyro. Mmmm. So long, dear pita, I knew you well. Read More »