All this talk about why people should get married, I think it's about time somebody points out the number one reason:
To get out of shidduchim...
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The Great Debate
If you are one of those opportunistic people who follow me on twitter, you may already know of the In-Town versus Out-Of-Town arguments that take place on an extremely frequent basis.
It's never anything new. The In-Towners discuss the fast-paced life in NY, where kosher food and a mincha minyan are available on every corner. The Out-Of-Towners counter with their extreme politeness.
Personally, I don't get it. I'd rather have a rude guy throw a kosher hot dog at me than a really nice man inform me- in the most polite manner possible- that I'll have to go hungry.
Now before I go making the arguments for those really, really nice people in Hicksville, let me clarify something. I love New York. I've lived here my whole life, and can't imagine life elsewhere. That being said, I have to point out a drawback to life in the greatest city in the world.
One morning, when packing my lunch for the day, I realized that we didn't have any fruit in the house. Making a mental note to buy some in the local grocery store that night, I headed out to work.
As I've mentioned before, I usually spend my lunch break going walking through the area near my office (midtown manhattan). I walked into the local Daune Reade, picked out a drink, and headed the the cashier to pay. On my way, my eye fell on a colorful display of fruit.
"How expensive can it be?" I asked myself as I picked one up and headed to the checkout. The cashier smiled and welcomed me to the store. "how much are these," I inquired, pointing at the apple.
Her smile froze. "That's 99 cents."
My eyes popped out of my head, my mouth dropped open, and my vocal cords shut down. My lack of words didn't deter the woman from understanding my reaction. I was shocked. And horrified.
Her response? "You must not be from New York."
I am. And I am a cheapskate. Can those two go together? If not, maybe I should be on the next plane to Yehupitsville.
It's never anything new. The In-Towners discuss the fast-paced life in NY, where kosher food and a mincha minyan are available on every corner. The Out-Of-Towners counter with their extreme politeness.
Personally, I don't get it. I'd rather have a rude guy throw a kosher hot dog at me than a really nice man inform me- in the most polite manner possible- that I'll have to go hungry.
Now before I go making the arguments for those really, really nice people in Hicksville, let me clarify something. I love New York. I've lived here my whole life, and can't imagine life elsewhere. That being said, I have to point out a drawback to life in the greatest city in the world.
One morning, when packing my lunch for the day, I realized that we didn't have any fruit in the house. Making a mental note to buy some in the local grocery store that night, I headed out to work.
As I've mentioned before, I usually spend my lunch break going walking through the area near my office (midtown manhattan). I walked into the local Daune Reade, picked out a drink, and headed the the cashier to pay. On my way, my eye fell on a colorful display of fruit.
"How expensive can it be?" I asked myself as I picked one up and headed to the checkout. The cashier smiled and welcomed me to the store. "how much are these," I inquired, pointing at the apple.
Her smile froze. "That's 99 cents."
My eyes popped out of my head, my mouth dropped open, and my vocal cords shut down. My lack of words didn't deter the woman from understanding my reaction. I was shocked. And horrified.
Her response? "You must not be from New York."
I am. And I am a cheapskate. Can those two go together? If not, maybe I should be on the next plane to Yehupitsville.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
The Friendship That Almost Never Was
My friend got married last night.
I know, it isn't news that my friend got married. It's news that she is my friend. I say that because I thought I killed any chance at friendship with Leah the first day we met.
But last night we danced, as close friends. I leaned over and whispered "remember the first day we met, when we were working on xyz project?" She nodded. "I was so snobby to you that day." She nodded again.
I originally met Leah at work. I wasn't pleased to have her work with me, and I'm afraid I made that perfectly clear. The first day she was there, we had a project to work on. It was complicated and difficult, and it would have been easier to do it myself than train her in and do the project simultaneously.
I'm sure she sensed my resentment. And I know she noticed me texting all afternoon. But I hope she doesn't know that I was texting about her. I was complaining to everybody I could think of that my new coworker was a total MP. After all, I texted, who comes to work with her hair all fancy and a full face of makeup.
It's been almost two years, yet I still remember being horrified at her fancy looks, annoyed by her over friendliness, and frustrated at her lack of experience.
But looking back, it's really kind of funny. Had I not started the day with a lousy attitude and a disgusting amount of self centeredness, I might have realized that I was intimidating. I had been there for forever, I knew everything there was to know about the job, and everyone knew it.
And perhaps, had I bothered to think of anything other than myself, I would have realized that her fancy clothes, fancy hair and full face of makeup was a desperate attempt to impress me.
Years later, after months of friendship and many a day seeing Leah's mode of dress, I can laugh about the way Leah started wearing her hair in a pony, little or no makeup, and even slinky skirts pretty soon after that day.
And it is only now, after hours of conversation, after many late nights spent shmoozing, that I can acknowledge the bond that we share, that I can admit that Leah is one of the most interesting conversationalists I've encountered in a while.
It wasn't until my drive home from Leah's wedding that I thought about the way things might have turned out. I could have continued to be a ridiculous snob. We could have turned into a pair of coworkers that merely tolerated each-other, instead of close friends.
Alls well that ends well, I told myself, in a desperate attempt to validate my actions and placate my guilt. But it didn't work. Because a happy outcome doesn't mitigate the problem.
Imagine a scenario where the unfriendly feelings stayed. She would have spent her days feeling a mixture of resentment and probably anger at my attitude. I would have continued on my path of annoyance, frustration and snobiness. When I finally quit, we would have exchanged a polite goodbye, never to speak to each other again.
And last night, she would have gotten married, only I wouldn't have been there. I probably wouldn't even know the event was taking place.
Here's the part that bothers me most of all. Had this scenario played out, neither of us would have ever known what we were missing, what could have developed.
And that makes me wonder. How many friendships have I killed? How many people do I consider mere acquaintances, when they could have been good friends?
I don't think we can ever understand the consequences of our actions, but sometimes life gives us reminders. If a bad mood and negative attitude almost killed a great friendship, imagine what a nasty comment might do. We never know what the future holds, but thinking about it might just help the outcomes.
I know, it isn't news that my friend got married. It's news that she is my friend. I say that because I thought I killed any chance at friendship with Leah the first day we met.
But last night we danced, as close friends. I leaned over and whispered "remember the first day we met, when we were working on xyz project?" She nodded. "I was so snobby to you that day." She nodded again.
I originally met Leah at work. I wasn't pleased to have her work with me, and I'm afraid I made that perfectly clear. The first day she was there, we had a project to work on. It was complicated and difficult, and it would have been easier to do it myself than train her in and do the project simultaneously.
I'm sure she sensed my resentment. And I know she noticed me texting all afternoon. But I hope she doesn't know that I was texting about her. I was complaining to everybody I could think of that my new coworker was a total MP. After all, I texted, who comes to work with her hair all fancy and a full face of makeup.
It's been almost two years, yet I still remember being horrified at her fancy looks, annoyed by her over friendliness, and frustrated at her lack of experience.
But looking back, it's really kind of funny. Had I not started the day with a lousy attitude and a disgusting amount of self centeredness, I might have realized that I was intimidating. I had been there for forever, I knew everything there was to know about the job, and everyone knew it.
And perhaps, had I bothered to think of anything other than myself, I would have realized that her fancy clothes, fancy hair and full face of makeup was a desperate attempt to impress me.
Years later, after months of friendship and many a day seeing Leah's mode of dress, I can laugh about the way Leah started wearing her hair in a pony, little or no makeup, and even slinky skirts pretty soon after that day.
And it is only now, after hours of conversation, after many late nights spent shmoozing, that I can acknowledge the bond that we share, that I can admit that Leah is one of the most interesting conversationalists I've encountered in a while.
It wasn't until my drive home from Leah's wedding that I thought about the way things might have turned out. I could have continued to be a ridiculous snob. We could have turned into a pair of coworkers that merely tolerated each-other, instead of close friends.
Alls well that ends well, I told myself, in a desperate attempt to validate my actions and placate my guilt. But it didn't work. Because a happy outcome doesn't mitigate the problem.
Imagine a scenario where the unfriendly feelings stayed. She would have spent her days feeling a mixture of resentment and probably anger at my attitude. I would have continued on my path of annoyance, frustration and snobiness. When I finally quit, we would have exchanged a polite goodbye, never to speak to each other again.
And last night, she would have gotten married, only I wouldn't have been there. I probably wouldn't even know the event was taking place.
Here's the part that bothers me most of all. Had this scenario played out, neither of us would have ever known what we were missing, what could have developed.
And that makes me wonder. How many friendships have I killed? How many people do I consider mere acquaintances, when they could have been good friends?
I don't think we can ever understand the consequences of our actions, but sometimes life gives us reminders. If a bad mood and negative attitude almost killed a great friendship, imagine what a nasty comment might do. We never know what the future holds, but thinking about it might just help the outcomes.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Top Ten Signs Your Coworker is Over The Hill
10) She puts on her glasses to squint at her blackberry.
9) He takes frequent naps at his desk.
7) When giving out her email address, she specifies "all lowercase."
6) The ringer on his phone is set to Sonic Boom level.
5) She collectively refers to the rest of the employees as "you young people."
4) He takes off a lot of time to go to doctors appointments. And he discusses them extensively when he comes back.
3) When at your desk, she exclaims repeatedly that you do things so quickly on the computer.
2) He spends a lot of time reminiscing about how different things were when he entered the work force 40 years ago.
1) He has a copy of 'Outlook 2007 for Dummies' on his desk. And he refers to it often.
9) He takes frequent naps at his desk.
7) When giving out her email address, she specifies "all lowercase."
6) The ringer on his phone is set to Sonic Boom level.
5) She collectively refers to the rest of the employees as "you young people."
4) He takes off a lot of time to go to doctors appointments. And he discusses them extensively when he comes back.
3) When at your desk, she exclaims repeatedly that you do things so quickly on the computer.
2) He spends a lot of time reminiscing about how different things were when he entered the work force 40 years ago.
1) He has a copy of 'Outlook 2007 for Dummies' on his desk. And he refers to it often.
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