Tag Archives: Friends

On My Mind

(Dis)connection

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I’ve been at a loss for words lately. I’ve been doing a lot of writing but abandoning drafts half formed, a lot of thinking but letting the thoughts go before uncovering them, playing with them, sharing them. I finished three (or was it four?) books this week, hoping their words would color the ideas I can’t seem to articulate.

A total sense of detachment from my own thoughts is strange. It’s like I’m watching myself try to figure out what I want to say and how I want to say it, staring out the windows of this café, half-noticing the people walking across the street. My own thoughts float lazily back to me, reminders that they’re there if I want to find them, introduce them to each other, engage with whatever is tugging at the back of my mind.

I’m an observer to my own mind. I’m lucid dreaming while awake.

On the surface, I’m preoccupied with a field trip, modified school schedules, papers to grade, end-of-year projects to implement. I can’t stop reading about healthcare and I can’t shake a deep sense of insecurity that I can’t quite place.

Oddly, however, discounting the healthcare travesty for the moment, it’s been a truly wonderful week. School was busy and productive and I laughed a lot. There was also a lot of socializing, which, while typical of my life in general, has not been typical of my life in New York. As usual when things happen, everything is happening all at once.

And that leaves me nostalgic.

I’m moving again over the summer (details on that after three more pieces of paper are finalized and signed) and that means starting over. When I know I’m about to say goodbye, I grow reluctant to do it. I grow more forgiving of the irritations and inconveniences I encounter, and begin to see them as endearing idiosyncrasies rather than sources of frustrations. I become aware of opportunities I haven’t taken, people I haven’t truly gotten to know, foods I haven’t tried, neighborhoods I haven’t explored, music I haven’t heard, sights I haven’t seen. As I make preparations to move for the fourth time in as many years, I begin to drag my feet, making mental (and sometimes physical) notes of what I’ll miss.

It’s never easy to leave.

And sometimes, it’s equally difficult to go.

I’ve learned that there’s a difference between leaving and going. The former means packing a life into boxes, hugging the people who have gone from being strangers to being friends, leaving the keys on the table, and waving goodbye. It’s a deliberate decision to stop turning back. It’s an exhale, a sigh, a conclusion. The latter is the first step forward, checking the time and setting the GPS, or handing over a passport to gate agents. It’s about deciding to take a chance, a gamble, a deep inhale. In going somewhere new, you’re supposed to be ready for anything. Otherwise, why go?

I didn’t do any of that when I moved to New York. I turned around in Singapore’s Changi Airport one more time after clearing passport control, and that was when I knew I was heading down a road leading to a very different future than the one I hadn’t admitted I was hoping for.

My mind has been spinning at night, which is apparent when I wake up before my alarm, when I look at my watch at the end of a run, when my dreams are fragments of conversations not had. I’m floating in between a life I might have had and a life I hope to have. Maybe you just weren’t ready, a friend suggested yesterday. I think she’s right.

What if I’m never ready? What if, now that I know what I’m looking for (including, not limited to, and largely involving authentic connection and collaboration with those around me) and what I want to do (change the world), none of it ever comes to fruition?

That’s the big step forward I mentioned earlier. It’s admitting what I’m looking for and want to do and committing to that. It’s dedicating my actions, relationships, and career to those things rather than trying to figure out what those things are. And it’s daunting because failure, readjustment, modification, and heartbreak are all likely along the road ahead.

But so are success, achievement, happiness, and love.

Because that’s what living means. As it has been. As it will be.

There’s no stopping in place because places don’t stop. There’s no turning back time because time can’t turn. There are no crystal balls, nothing foretold, foreknown, or predetermined. There are roads, as Dante and Frost said, and some roads are less traveled.

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Travel Guide

Travel Guide: Tel Aviv

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A lot gets packed into our eighth grade trip to Israel. After four nights in Jerusalem, two nights in the Negev, and three nights on the Kinneret, the trip staff were exhausted. Built into the trip was a weekend with host families, usually students’ relatives or family friends. For staff, this meant two nights to choose anywhere in Israel to stay and just relax. One of my carpool friends was also a trip chaperone and we chose to spend the weekend in Tel Aviv; it was nothing less than glorious.

With the kids, we stopped in Tel Aviv twice over the course of the trip: Once to eat falafel and hang out in a park before visiting the Olympic Museum, which was entertaining for the kids and a lovely display of Zionism, and once to go to the beach. Suffice it to say that Tel Aviv (and perhaps anything) with kids is completely different than with adults.

After traveling by bus with a group of students also staying in and around Tel Aviv, we were free! We dropped our bags at the hotel and headed straight to Nachlat Binyamin, the artists’ market where, back in 2007, my parents bought a fruit plate that still sits on their kitchen counter and I bought a pair of purple earrings that I wore every single day until they turned green. (Those earrings are the reason that I chose purple studs when I pierced the second hole in my right ear.) I didn’t buy anything this time, but it was still fun to look around.

From there, hungry, in the mood for shakshuka, and still in need of gifts, we wandered Shuk HaCarmel, the most famous of Tel Aviv’s markets. As readers of this blog know, I adore markets. I love food and smells and flavors. I love the dedication of the vendors, the passionate bargaining of customers, and the speed of each transaction. I love the crowds and how markets are universally loud, frenetic, and a true delight for all the senses.

This particular market area of Tel Aviv is also a great spot for really neat street art. Shout out to my weekend partner-in-crime for her patience every time I said, “Wait, need a picture.”

Truth be told, however, we spent most of our weekend just sitting on the beach. I’m generally really bad at sitting but that’s all my body wanted to do. Sometimes we sat with food or drinks and sometimes we just sat and watched the water. We met up with a friend and some friends of friends and had ourselves a lovely time.

In addition to a great beach atmosphere, Tel Aviv also has a great restaurant and bar scene. On recommendation from one of our trip guides who lives in Tel Aviv, we went to Four One Six, a vegan restaurant that exceeded all expectations. After a few minutes of talking to the owner, we made a New York connection – he and his twin brother, the head chef, are from Brooklyn and opened the restaurant together a few months ago. He had previously worked at Candle 79, a phenomenal vegan restaurant that was blocks away from my Upper East Side apartment for the month that I lived there. The owner was really friendly and told us that he and his brother are working to challenge the food scene in Tel Aviv by introducing delicious vegan food that highlights what vegan can eat rather than what they can’t. Sounds a little like Candle 79! (And Vedge in Philadelphia, which I also highly recommend.) The owner dropped off a plate of chocolates and stopped back to ask if we’d figured out the flavors. Delicious isn’t a flavor but that’s what they were.

Other food highlights from the weekend include shakshuka, which we didn’t find at Shuk HaCarmel but ate outside at a sidewalk bakery/café, and burekas, which we also enjoyed while sitting outside. I could eat nothing but Israeli food every day for the rest of my life and never get bored. Every meal, including breakfast, is full of various types of fresh salads and I just love it.

After dinner, we met up with our guide, his girlfriend, and a few other friends at Dizzy Frishdon, a great bar with outdoor seating, several indoor bar areas, a table with swings instead of chairs, and a few rooms of normal tables and chairs. It was a really lovely evening to sit outside (are you noticing a theme?) and enjoy just being in Tel Aviv and watching the nightlife all around us. Our guide’s friend is a part owner of the bar and that came with food and drinks perks, which was a lot of fun.

Overall, it was an incredibly relaxing weekend and exactly what we needed to prepare for the final two nights of the trip back in Jerusalem. It actually ended up being two and a half nights after a seven-hour flight delay, so it’s a good thing that we were relaxed and rejuvenated. Beautiful beaches, beautiful food, and beautiful people have a way of doing that.

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View from our hotel room
New York

Home Sick

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I’m taking my first ever sick day today and that seemed monumental enough in my personal life to write a blog post about it.

When I was growing up, I hated missing school. I hated the catch-up required after being out for even a day, hated copying friends’ notes, hated missing the jokes and the banter. I’m also bad at sitting around at the best of times so being stuck at home has never worked for me. Right now, I’m wearing jeans and a sweater and all the jewelry that I normally wear. The only unusual thing is that my hair is in a ponytail and I’m wearing glasses.

When my roommate got home last night, she took one look at me and said, “You need to be horizontal right now.” I finally listened to her around 9:30pm. Today, I’ve spent most of my time on the couch wrapped in a heavy shawl that I sometimes use as a blanket. I’ve been reading but also doing the school prep that needs to be done whether I’m at work or not. And because I can’t stay home all day without losing my mind, I added the library and a vegan sushi restaurant that makes delicious spicy soup to my errands for the day. The more practical errands of doctor and pharmacy, I’ll have you know, also made the list.

I think much of my disdain for staying home sick stems from my childhood experience with illness. My mother is one of the toughest people I know and I was lucky enough to have her as a stay-at-home mum for my school years; she went back to work when I was finishing high school. She never let a sick child prevent her from doing whatever needed to be done that day. And when you, the sick child, had the misfortune to have walking pneumonia in sixth or eighth grade, you were deemed too young to stay home alone and take care of yourself so you might as well rally and join mum at the grocery store. So you did. (The third time I had walking pneumonia was while traveling in Norway. When I woke up with pink eye my parents finally decided we could probably skip a tour of Oslo City Hall and visit an urgent care clinic instead.)

So that’s the backstory of why staying home from work is a big deal.

 

I felt myself getting sick over the weekend but one of my best friends was in town so I joined the rest of the gang and explored some pretty cool haunts around the city:

I asked the bartender about the Public Displays of Affection sign on the right. If you want to buy someone a drink, you’re welcome to do it by filling out the required information on this chalkboard. How fun! I was tempted just because I like chalk.

Next door to Harlem Public is a neat spot called At the Wallace, which has board games, arcade games, giant Connect Four, giant Jenga, shuffleboard . . . and a whiteboard wall with markers in the bathroom! Couldn’t resist taking a picture of my graffiti. The ceiling was plastered with old National Geographic covers and the walls with photobooth pictures. We meant to take one but completely forgot after taking over a table in the corner that was also a PacMan console.

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I’ve never been in a bar as it opens for the day, but had a delicious Irish coffee in the silent Swift before brunch on Saturday:

Neat mural in the East Village on the way to brunch at Vic’s:

Old firehouse across the street from said mural:

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It turned out to be quite the weekend for games! We played a lot of giant Jenga and giant Connect Four but I also had fun photographing the flashing lights of arcade games at Pioneer’s, a Chelsea establishment full of couches, armchairs, and coffee tables that provides free popcorn and allows food delivery:

And then there was some solitary wandering in midtown on Sunday because, though feeling poorly, I figured I might as well do the shopping that I dislike equally while healthy:

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Loved the shadows – I think this is St. Bartholomew’s but it might also be St. Patrick’s
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International Building at Rockefeller Center
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Really quite pleased with the lighting in this one!

And there you have it! A recap of my first professional sick day and the really fun weekend that led up to it. I’m on steroids for a nasty rash that is (mercifully) hidden under layers of clothing and as long as I have a cup of tea practically glued to my hand and avoid talking, my throat feels okay. My students yesterday were so helpful with my inability to speak and I hope they were as good to the sub today as they usually are to me. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it tomorrow.