Basically, I ran out of things to eat.

Yeah, yeah, it shouldn’t be that hard. But somehow nothing seems quite satisfying enough, quite interesting enough when I have to think so hard about my food.

I am not the kind of girl who diets. In fact, I’ve never been on a diet in my entire life (excluding this “Passover diet” that I go on every year for a week). And I’ll tell you, I don’t like it. If I had to be so careful about what I ate all the time, I would definitely be a much bigger bitch.

Which is really making me a better person. Because now when someone is rude to me on the train, I can think, “oh, they must be on a diet,” and let it go. Thanks, Passover!

In any event, the last couple of days were annoying. I missed out on free Beard Papa cream puffs, on free cookies, on going out to (not free, but still) pizza with friends, etc. etc.

I ate Pinkberry frozen yogurt for lunch one day when I was in a rush and couldn’t think of anything else that was fast.

I was not always nice to my boyfriend. Read More »

Passover. Great holiday. Eternal source of existential agony.

I’m Jewish, yes? Well, ethnically, for sure. My family is made up of Jews from Belarus and Romania/Transylvania (suck your blood, blah, blah, vampire joke) who take the culture seriously but the religion…well, not so much.

Supposedly, all sets of my parents’ grandparents were Orthodox, and then their parents (my grandparents) were all Conservative, but my parents, as first and second generation Americans, kind of let that all go. They sent me to Secular Hebrew School for five years, where I learned all about the culture but not the actual religious rites, and that was that.

However, my situation growing up was very different from theirs, and that, of course, made my relationship to Judaism a little more complicated.

My parents were both raised in Jewish neighborhoods in the Bronx. Growing up, they were in the ethnic majority (at least until high school). Being Jewish was just a fact of life.

I grew up in a very Italian- and Irish-American town on Long Island where I was one of about six Jews in my grade. Even though my parents and I barely practiced (every third year or so we’d go to temple for Yom Kippur), Jewishness became a very important part of my identity. As it happened, we lived directly next door to the Catholic church that was attended by about 85% of my classmates. This was a constant source of amusement. Jewish jokes? I was there…and maybe the one making them. Being Jewish made me stand out. So I made it work in my favor. Read More »

Last night, as I went through my post-Cinco de Mayo hangover process, my margarita-filled weekend came to an end with another episode of Entourage. In between refilling my glass of ice water and ten minute intervals between bathroom trips, I learned that things are definitely getting exciting with the boys.

After a day at the horse races, Drama falls in love with one of the horses, and although his particular horse failed to take first place, he falls in love with it and buys it off of the trainer in fear the horse will be taken to the glue factory. Hmmm…in love with a horse? That reminds me….Just kidding.

The horse is hauled back to the casa and ends up running out the gates. Definitely too much responsibility for these guys. Drama gives the horse away as a gift to his TV director, Ed Burns, whose daughter is more than happy to take the horse off his hands. Whatever! I love animals, but if someone dropped off a horse on my front lawn and said, “Look what I bought! It’s for YOU!” I would be pretty pissed to say the least. But I don’t even have a front lawn, so I guess I have nothing to worry about. Read More »