As September rolls in…and one of my most challenging and mashugana summers in recent history, rolls out, I can’t help but think of all the random thoughts that have passed through my mind at any given moment lately. Maybe all these random thoughts were my brain’s way of removing me from the present Catch 22 I have found myself in, dealing with my homeowner’s association.
As my attempts at keeping my sanity have been constant and ever present, I thought I’d share some of these random thoughts. As I fantasized about going north, things were seemingly going south. And I know I was slowly losing my sanity because one of the first things on my goals list every morning included staying positive. Back in the day, personal goals consisted of writing a hit song, creating more art, being my best creative self. Now it’s boiled down to…staying positive. That’s kind of depressing, wouldn’t you say?
My mom, never one to be too positive, may she rest in peace, was wont to repeat way too many times throughout my young life that when she died all she wanted was a vacuum cleaner that worked on her grave. As a young child, while I understood how absurd a comment that was, I also came to think there was something very Jew-ish about the absurdity of it. For instance, how many times have I found myself saying out loud in a moment of frustration, “I’m going to jump out the window.” (Or lately, off the balcony, the culprit that appears to be the cause of all the tsuris these days with my HOA.) It seems every Jewish person I know, knows when you blurt something absurd like that out in a moment of life’s frustration you are not actually going to jump (or leave a working vacuum cleaner on a grave). However, I’ll never forget the time I made that “I’m gonna jump out the window” exclamation to my ex, non-Jewish husband and saw an instant look of panic take over his face.
Another thing my mom used to say was she knew she was getting old when the construction workers stopped cat calling her. It’s hard to use that as a getting old basis now a days. First of all, like everything else in this egregious world, it easily falls into some politically incorrect something or other category. It doesn’t really apply anyway, as most of the construction workers just sit and look at their phones half the time while they are on a break, like the rest of mankind. I could fall naked into a pothole, and they wouldn’t even look up. It’s useless holding on to the belief I inherited that construction men determine my youthfulness or attractiveness. I just hope they will look up long enough to pull me out of the pothole.
Once when I was walking up 3rd Ave in NYC during Rosh Hashanah avoiding potholes, I overheard a young woman, who I might add, had a very Jewish American Princess vibe to her, say to the young man she was walking with "All Jewish men have mommy issues."
Speaking of which, if I ever have the good fortune to meet a guy, mommy issues and all, and actually find myself married again, chances are, “until death do us part” is probably a much more realistic statement and reality considering my age.
I recently asked a community member a little older than me if he has any single male friends, he could match me up with…He said he’d have to think if he knows “anybody”. I said…no, no, no…not “anybody.” I’ve met “anybody” way too many times on dating sites and it’s yet to produce a positive outcome. The reason I was asking him in the first place was because I didn’t want to meet just “anybody.”
A friend of mine made a comment recently that she was living vi-Carrie-ously through me.
I don't know...maybe not the best idea...at least not this past summer.
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