Frume Sarah's World

that ‘recap’ comes from a musical term? It does and you can thank my $80,000 music degree for that tidbit. A ‘recapitulation’ is the third movement of a sonata form, and a ‘recap’ is just a shortened form of the word.

You know me, though, so you are not surprised that there are two other definitions of ‘recapitulation.’ [1. a concise summary; 2. the hypothetical occurrence in an individual organism’s development of successive stages resembling the series of ancestral types from which it was descended so that the ontogeny of the individual is a recapitulation of the phylogeny of its group. Hey, it pays to read a lot!!] The musical definition is actually the third definition. However, I don’t exactly remember my theory professor presenting it that way…

Anyway, a recap of my awesome birthday solo-getaway starts NOW:

Hoping to leave as early as possible, I managed to tear myself from the homestead about 12:00 noon on Shabbos. It had been my intention to leave earlier and make a pit-stop [read: Barnes & Noble] on the way to the hotel. However, there were children to be bathed, dishes to be washed, and so forth. I popped the trunk, tossed in by overnight bag, cranked up Bette Midler, and set off for paradise.

To valet or not to valet? That is the question.

Heck…it’s only a $5.00 difference and hey, it’s my birthday.

Amanda was a great help at the reception desk. Pleasant, courteous, and upon hearing the wonderful package PC had put together, upgraded my room and gave me access to the concierge Lounge.

A quick trip to the room and then down to the spa.

The hotel has recently gone under a major renovation, including the construction of a spa. I’ve been to quite a few spas and this one is definitely one of the nicest. It will be even better once the construction is completed!

As I put my things into the locker, I was reminded of how like a mikvah experience this was. Or at least the romanticized mikvah experience of my imagination. Having only been to mikvah twice (a future posting on this topic is necessary), I desire a more regular dunking habit. And in my dream mikvah, it would actually resemble a day spa. And why not, ladies?? Rabbis?? Any reason why it couldn’t??

I took a really, really long shower — alone. Not just alone, but uninterrupted. If you’ve got kids, you know why this is worth mentioning. The whirlpool wasn’t ready yet. Sadness. Neither was the cold foot plunge pool. Also sadness. I’ve never been a fan of heat so the sauna was out. Since the steam room was a Eucalyptus steam room, I gave it a try. Too hot — even with the ice cold wash clothes covering my face. Smelled good, though.

By the way, did I mention that I’d left my eyeglasses in the locker?

And then it was time for my treatments to begin.

First – a Lavender and Salt exfoliation. Truly, one of the best exfoliations I’ve ever had.

Second – a Lavender Dreams massage. Pretty fab as well.

Finally – a facial customized for my particular skin type.

Two-and-a-half hours of pure relaxation and bliss. Would I be a nicer person if someone kneaded the tension away on a regular basis?

Shockingly, I was not ready for a nap upon reaching my room. I showered, visited the Concierge Lounge for some fruit, water, and cheese, and then walked over to a local book store. Though I try not to engage in commerce on Shabbos, I couldn’t imagine not curling up with a book for a long, uninterrupted stretch of reading. I selected an enjoyable-looking book (The Ivy Chronicles) and grabbed a quick bite before heading back to my room…having an ice cream cone on the walk back. Why not? It’s my birthday and I didn’t have any cake.

It was a really fun book. Perfect for relaxing. And then I watched a movie on TV…just because I could. Ah, this is nice.

A huge King-size bed with luxurious pillows and a down comforter. A good night’s sleep. Breakfast brought on a tray with a flower and the Sunday paper. I read the whole darn thing…every section…even the Classifieds! Just because I could.

Another solitary shower (what is that…like the third one in a 24 hour period?) and 45 minutes to style my hair. My goodness, it looks so good when I can do it without kids clinging to me.

And then…to the mall for some Sephora-therapy. Jessica worked on me for close to three hours. An improvement? Possibly. More importantly, it was just a delight to spend quality time with myself without worrying that there was somewhere else I should be.

PC gave me the best gift without my having to tell him what I needed most of all…time to myself.

Being with someone over half my life definitely has its advantages.

One of these things just doesn’t belong,
Can you tell which thing is not like the others
By the time I finish my song?

1978…1984…1989…1995…2001…2006

Did you guess which thing was not like the others?
Did you guess which thing just doesn’t belong?
If you guessed this one ** 2001 ** is not like the others,
Then you’re absolutely…right!

[Words and Music by Joe Raposo and Jon Stone ]

Figure it out yet?? Why is 2001 not like the other years? Clue: This has nothing to do with Pesach!!

In 1978, 1984, 1989, 1995, & 2006, my birthday fell on a Friday. And I remember each and every one of them.

Weird, I know. In fact, even though I have strong memories of my 7th birthday falling on a Friday, I checked it this morning because I thought it unlikely I could actually recall such a strange fact. Unlikely, perhaps — but not impossible.

In many synagogues, people who are celebrating a birthday in a given month are invited to the bimah for a special blessing at the Family Service. My guess is that receiving a blessing on my actual birthday made such an impression that it’s stayed with me all these years. I don’t remember what I got as a present or even what we did to celebrate my birthday other than a special Shabbos dinner and going to shul.

Another one of those tip-offs?

1984 was my 13th birthday and I lead the service the following morning as a Bat Mitzvah. When I came to the Shabbos table on my actual birthday, a beautiful pair of silver candlesticks were at my place. Until then, my sister and I had shared a pair of brass candlesticks — but now, like Jewish women throughout time, I would have my own pair. The same pair that would follow me from my parents’ home to a home of my own.

1989 was my 18th birthday and what more is there to say? It was my senior year in high school, I had already been accepted into the college of my choice, had a boyfriend (PC!!!), a significant solo in Handel’s Samson, and the lead the school musical. Life was good!

1995 was celebrated in Jerusalem. It was my first year in Rabbinical School and I led services in the HUC chapel in honour of my special day. It was a year of struggles and growth and discovery.

And, of course, this year was on a Friday. It was special as Friday birthdays always are. PC arranged doughnuts in the shape of ’35’ and captured Beernut serenading me with a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday” on my brand-new video camera. [Do we call it a digital camera since it is digital?] This was most significant as I am the official family photographer (still and video/digital) and appear in NO pictures or film! Poppyseed was the Shabbat Star (akin to Star of the Week) in school, MrsGiraffe watched Poppyseed while I took a long pre-Shabbos shluffy and then we went to shul for dinner and services. As expected, we were gone before the opening song! These kids just can’t make it for the 7:00pm service yet. So I missed my blessing.

Or did I?

“…coach will turn back into a pumpkin.”

OK, not really. But at midnight EST — that’s 9:00pm for those of us on the West Coast — voting will officially end for this year’s Jewish and Israeli Blog Awards.

So if my blog moves you, then vote for me. And if not, vote for someone whose words inspire you!

Click here!!

He was only 58 years old. And had been given a clean bill of health just that week. So it’s no surprise that an early Shabbos morning phone call from my mother was a complete shock. Heart attack.

We observed his 9th yahrtzeit this week. Though I named my firstborn after him, I sometimes still forget that my Uncle B, z”l, is gone. [Between the death of my Uncle B, z”l, and my Uncle A, z”l, the year before, we haven’t had an operational VCR in our family for almost a decade.]

It is often referred to as “the silent killer,” but is it so silent? There are clues. Vascular disease (including high blood pressure and high cholesterol) typically runs in families so it pays to know your history. If you are carrying extra weight, and you know who you are, you have cause to be concerned. In addition to the scale, a sedentary lifestyle is a strong contributing factor as is one’s eating habits. Diabetes increases one’s propensity, and need I mention smoking??

So not so silent if you know your risks, and if you know your risks, you can make changes in the areas that are changeable. Just as we can choose our friends and not choose our family, so too can we change behaviours and not change our genetics.

Early warning signs are important to know. And if you are female, it is particularly essential that you understand we tend to present with atypical symptoms. Consistent heart pain? Only 1/3 of women experience this during a cardiac episode verses 2/3 of men with the same ailment. Stomach upset? Common for women and not common for men. We need to know the warning signs especially in light of the fact that heart disease kills more women than all other types of cancer combined.

Tomorrow is National Wear Red Day, and I encourage you to participate. It’s a simple, powerful way to raise awareness of heart disease and stroke. By joining together with thousands of women, companies and organizations, and cities across America, you’ll help the American Heart Association support ongoing research and education about women and heart disease.

How?

Contribute $5 to the American Heart Association’s go red for women movement, and wear red and jeans. Your generous act of tzedakah will support vital research and education efforts. You will help save women’s lives.

A young man was dating a non-Jewish girl, who was very interested in learning about Judaism. They took classes and the girlfriend expressed interest in going to synagogue. The young man, who was excited to bring his girlfriend to shul, spent a considerable amount of time describing what the service would be like (“standing, sitting, but no kneeling”) and what she might expect (“great food after”).

The evening arrived and progressed smoothly…or so the fellow thought. During the all-important car ride home, the girlfriend was seething. “What was the point of trying to make me comfortable when you didn’t even tell me the secret password?” she sputtered.

You know. The secret password that the sweet Brotherhood usher or some other welcoming face proclaims when you cross the sanctuary threshold.

“Shabbat Shalom!”

Doesn’t seem so threatening. And yet…imagine, if you will, what it would be like if you’d never heard these words before. What is an appropriate response? Is this a question? A statement? What reaction should it elicit?

All too often, those of us in the know unwittingly keep those who are not in the know in the dark. How often do the intellectual elite use phrases, words, or analogies that will be missed by others? How often do we use Jewish colloquialisms or vocabulary from the pulpit and inadvertently crack someone’s fragile sense of belonging?

The above story is a true one, and got me thinking about what I can do to help close the gap between the haves and the have nots. After all, more and more of our congregations and centers are filled with people who were not immersed in the language and culture in the ways prior generations have been. And even those of us who were fortunate to be surrounded by such richness in our youth may not know the origins of so many of our phrases and customs. A perfect example? “Shabbat Shalom.”

Believe-it-or-not, there are others like me out there who ponder the origins of such things. Others who are far more erudite and knowledgeable than I. In fact, Philologos writes a fabulous weekly column in the Forward on such matters and uncovers their philological origins. A recent installment of Philologos investigates the secret code, enlightening even those of us “in the know.”

So the next time you insert “Shabbat Shalom” (Hebrew greeting meaning ‘Sabbath of peace’), “farfallen” (Yiddish for ‘a lost cause’), or “bimah” (Hebrew for ‘raised platform,’ and used generally to refer to the pulpit area in a synagogue) into the conversation, just remember that we are instructed not to put a stumbling block before the blind and to take this teachable moment — and teach!

It doesn’t take much to instigate a dark and dreary middle school or high school flashback. It seems that the most innocuous statement can send the ego spiraling back in time to former days of social ineptitude and adolescent awkwardness.

In other word, it doesn’t take much to remind a geek of her innate geekiness!

What’s this about? Birthdays. Mine in particular. I received an email today from the Sunshine Committee. This is a committee we have at work whose sole purpose is to make people feel included, important, and loved on the annual celebration of their entry into this world. The email was asking for any individual whose birthday falls in the month of February to identify him-or-herself. A seemingly beneign request, no?

No! I mean, yes, it is seemingly beneign…and no, it sent me over the edge. Now, we all know that I’ve had a stressful few days and so perhaps this was the proverbial straw. I’ve got another theory however…

Remember the really popular girls at school? The ones who would be greeted by birthday signs on the front of the front gate? Who would arrive at lockers decorated gaily by “best friends?” And who would prance around school all day with a balloon bouquet? Yeah…well so do I. And that was not me! I was the one whose birthday would go unnoticed. Not in the disturbing Sixteen Candles way. I mean my family is many things…and we may have held a birthday celebration or two on an alternate day. But no way would our parents actually *forget* our birthdays. Somehow, though, it was never enough. And when school friends would discover that it was my birthday (or that it had been my birthday), they would say things like “I can’t believe you never said anything!”

Seriously now, what was I going to say? “Um, in case you didn’t know — because we obviously aren’t as close as I thought we were — my birthday is actually today and I feel like a complete dork because no one noticed.” What is the right thing to actually say here? And if you tell people a few days ahead of time, their felicitious wishes seem contrived.

Skip ahead a couple of decades and I have yet to discover a comfortable and natural way to spread news of my birth date. I would think that in the workplace, there must be someone in the HR department in possession of such knowledge. Wouldn’t it be less clumsy for the HR Dept. to communicate said information to the appropriate people…say the Sunshine Committee, for example?

So I deleted the email and figure that if people are meant to know, they know. And if they don’t, then they don’t.

The way some people fear us, you’d think that we are super-duper powerful. It’s a heady feeling, really. If you believe some of the propaganda out there, we are responsible for the war in Iraq, 9/11, the tsunami, and the Civil War. (And probably a slew of other calamities as well.) We control Hollywood, the media, and the economy. For a group that comprises just 0.2% of the global population, we certainly seem to be disproportionately mighty.

It gets tiring. No, not being so powerful. For we really aren’t responsible for such things. It gets tiring being blamed. It gets tiring being hated by so many. To be the world’s punching bag.

Two weeks ago, author Andrew Klavan wrote a wonderful op-ed piece on this very topic. I thought that he raised some really valid points and even kept a sense of humour about a subject that is extraordinarily serious.

At the end of the day, it seems as though we are destined to be blamed for anything from a meteorological disturbance to the economic fluxuations of the Free World. Despite the best intentions of the Amalekites, Babylonians, Romans, and Nazis, we’re still here.

They’re not.

I always have. When the other girls had a thing for Tom Cruise, Kirk Cameron, and Scott Baio, my head was filled with visions of Jonathan Silverman, Matthew Broderick, and Robby Benson.

I luv Jewish boys. I think that they are adorable, funny, really cute, sexy, smart, and just plain good solid folk. It’s just what I’m used to, I suppose.

My dad is a nice Jewish boy. PC is definitely a nice Jewish boy. I have not one but two nice Jewish boys as brothers. And Beernut is a nice Jewish boy.

See, all nice Jewish boys.

I’ve just got a thing for them…

So, my latest little crush is on Andy Samberg. He’s a featured player on SNL and one of the reasons that I adore him is because I’m friends with his sister. She is a very, very nice Jewish girl and since things like this tend to run in the family…well, I feel pretty confidant about this guy. Plus he’s super cute!! Even though I haven’t been a regular SNL viewer for years, my TiVo now records weekly in hopes of catching a Samberg sketch here and there.

How excited was I to see that his latest sketch “Chronic of Narnia“ is available online? I’ve watched it several times and each time I think the same thing: this is a really cute Jewish boy who has been trying to break in to the business and is finally being recognized. Hooray for the nice guys!!

Then today, during my www travels, I came upon a West Coast version starring one of other favourite Jewish boys, Mark Feuerstein. He is super cute too and very, very funny in “lazy monday.” This short is what he and his “posse” are calling “the West Coast response to SNL’s ‘Chronic of Narnia’ rap.” (via Annabel Lee)

Any actual point to this entry? Not really. Pure entertainment once-in-a-while isn’t so bad 🙂

According to a recent article in the LA Times, Dengue Fever is the most common cause of fever in returning travellers.

Beware the mosquito carrying Dengue Fever!!

I must admit that when I hear of such warnings…well…I ignore them. After all, do you actually know anyone who come down with one of these strange afflictions while on vacation?

I do. Yes, I actually do know someone who contracted Dengue Fever and on her honeymoon no less!! (She is recovering, thank God.)

Dengue Fever is contracted from an infected mosquito and symptoms generally appear four to seven days after the bite. Symptoms can include severe headache, joint and muscle pain, high fever, nausea, vomiting and rash. It is a serious disease and, in its most severe form, can be fatal.

Unfortunately there is no vaccine at this time to prevent Dengue Fever and since it is a virus, there is no treatment. International health agencies encourage people travelling to the affected areas to take precautions against being bitten, such as wearing long sleeves and applying repellents with DEET (diethylmetatoluamide).

In other words, the best defense is a good offense.