Tuesday, December 24, 2013

T'is Almost the End of Another Season of Discontent

I do not pretend that it catches me the same way, but I understand men's obsessions with sports.  The drama.  The excitement.  The athletic grace of of three hundred pound man running in what's known as the "open field", trying to find a little skinny man to throw to the ground.

Yes, it was that time of year.  The last Jets home game of the season.  And I am contractually bound by marriage to attend at least one game a year or else I am considered an unfit, unloving wife.  Whatever.

So there I found myself at the new Meadowlands, formerly known as Giants Stadium Even Though the Jets Play Here Too.  Whatever, don't bother, it isn't worth t.

The Jets were playing the Cleveland Browns, a team even more known for its ineptitude and suckiness than the Jets.  As an added bonus, they are also the team which Ezzie roots for.  And the team was out of playoff contention so all the angry fans are done at this point.  And what the hell, it was supposed to be 70 degrees so at least we wouldn't freeze our asses off.

So we set out as a foursome, David and I, and our good friends Steven and Jennifer (names may or may not have been changed to protect the innocent) to the game.  Ground rules were simple.  We were not getting there 14 hours early in order to set up a grill, eat meat and drink beer at 11 in the morning.  We were going to get there regular time, like right before the game, to cut this torturous experience as short as possible.

And so it was.  We arrived to our spot at 12:15, cranked out one beer apiece (hey, tradition is tradition right?) and then headed for our seats.

Now understand.  David's family are season ticket holders for a very, very long time.  They have really good, low seats in the middle of the stadium on the same side as the Jets team.  In the olden days, you could watch Red Ryan's stomach jiggle when he walked.  Now we have new, svelte Rex Ryan and I swear the jets really know how to ruin all my fun.

Here are some snippets and observations from the game:

Celebrity Row or Celebrity Zero.  Unlike Basketball and Hockey games at Madison Square Garden, which are literally teeming with famous people, no one shows up to football games.  And even if they do, you can't see them.  people who do show up are all angry white guys with green jerseys on in 20 year old puffer jackets.  Meaning that people watching is at an absolute low at football games.  bad times.

Actual Conversation that took place during the game:

Me:  who is that number 11, he catches the ball really well.  And he's a little due.  I like that.

David:  Jeremy Kerley.  He does it all.

Me:  Curly, like curly fries?

Him:  No.  K-E-R-L-E-Y.  Kerley.  Like Jeremy Kerley, number 11 on the Jets.

Me:  Well, I like him anyway.  Though it would be cooler if his name was curly like curly fries.

Steven:  You should see his beard.  It's magnificent.

Insert Rant Here.  Late in the game it started to drizzle rain, which led to an interesting debate among fans in our area as to whether the super bowl, which is being played in the Meadowlands this year, should ever be played in a cold city like New York if there's no roof on the stadium.  Yawn.

Wouldn't we be better off if everyone spent more time debating stuff like, how can we fix our economy?  Or fix our government?  Of make a health care law that actually makes sense and works?  Instead we debate if the world would end or not if it snows during a football game.

Ezzie Must Be Sad.  After taking a 10 to zero lead to start the game, Cleveland completely fell apart after.  The Jets tied the game before halftime and crushed the Browns in the second half of the game.  Some guy who never caught a touchdown pass all season caught two and the incredibly intriguing Geno Smith also ran for a touchdown.

Why intriguing you ask?  I'm glad you did!  He's a rookie the Jets picked to replace the incredibly hot but also incredibly awful Mark Sanchez.  And he's had a bad season.  But when he looks good he looks good.  So he'll probably get 2 or three more years of playing time while the team figures out what they have and then by the time they realize he sucks, the will have wasted those 2 or 3 seasons.

(By the way, the prior paragraph were words of wisdom espoused Sunday by Steven and David.  I take no credit for this in-depth analysis of things I don't care about.)

So in the end, Ezzie must be very sad this week, I managed to get through my wifely duties unscathed (thank you Jennifer for being there for me) and the jets season will be blessedly over next week, which means David and I can actually do shit on Sundays without him telling me he can't do anything because he won't miss the Jets (until, of course, the weather warms up and then he plays gold on Sundays, but that's a conversation to have in the spring.  Oh and PS, don't feel too bad for me, I get my stuff too).  And everyone celebrated the win as if it meant something (after all the season really ended with last week's loos when the jets fell out of contention for the playoffs).

Did I learn any valuable lessons?  No.  Did it totally suck?  No.  The truth is I'll do just about anything with David and our friends and be happy (except, of course, being pitted on some sort of island or enclosed area and having to participate in some sort of Hunger Games-like fight to the death.  That probably wouldn't be too cool.

And since the Knicks absolutely suck this year, I don't feel the need to go to too many of those 41 games at home this season.

Anyone have good tv suggestions?

Monday, December 16, 2013

Just One Line

One single, pink line.

It started with an innocuous statement.  Just a flippant mention of a problem.  And a suggestion as to what might be causing that problem.

A suggestion that would, if true, change everything. 

One line vs. two lines.  A second pink line which is the difference between my world staying the same and everything changing. 

One single pink line.

I don't even know how to feel.  Happy?  Sad?  I just feel numb.  Like the promise of a whole new world has just been held out to me and pulled away by ever cruel fates.

But I am not ready, right?  isn't that my mantra?    Is anyone ever really ready?  Yesterday I would have wanted the answer to be "negative".  But that was before someone said to me "maybe you are pregnant".

Four words.  A life altering event.  Maybe you are pregnant.  Maybe your body is preparing to form a human life and bring it into this world.  A daughter.  A son.  My child.  David's child. 

Not ready?  Who is ever ready?  Maybe this is life's push to you.

One single pink line.

The difference between yes and no.  Between things going back to the way you claim you want them and life changing course forever. 

I look at the prophet.  Stare at it.  Wonder how long it takes to change.  Will it change?  Willing it to change.  What about the second time through?  How many times does it take to be sure? 

Then I cry.  Cry not in relief, as perhaps I would have yesterday.  But crying for what could have been. 

And now the tears are all gone and I'm numb.  Because that's all it was, just one single pink line.

Things can continue as they were.  Because after all, I'm not ready right?  I'm not ready to stop my fun and put my career on hold.  I'm not ready to raise a child.  Not ready to...just not fucking ready.

Except all of a sudden that feels like a lie on my lips.  Because I am ready.  And now I know I am.  Because the feeling of.....loss....that I am currently feeling tells me that I am ready. 

One single pink line.

The difference between nothing.  And everything.

And I hope this numbness goes away.

Friday, December 13, 2013

Never Mind the Cold, Here Comes the Love

It's cold out as I carry the bags to the car, piling all the crap in.

 It's early in the morning.  And it's annoying.  And it's cold.  But there won't be time to leave work, go back the the apartment, load the car and make it to my in-laws for Shabbos.  So instead, we'll load the car before we go.

It's early.  And it's cold.  And I was up early packing in order to get it all in the car so early on this cold Friday morning.

And then it strikes me.  Where am I going?  To a place where I feel warm and safe and full of love. A place where no one sits in judgement of me if I come to the table in a hoodie.  A place where the conversations are ones that I can actively take part in.  A place where i am surrounded by family.  True family who love me and accept me for who I am. 

What the hell am I complaining about???

So yes, it's cold outside.  And packing is annoying.  And having our stuff sitting in a car all day is not great for wrinkle free wear.  These are life's little inconveniences. Stress on little.  These should be our biggest problems - cold weather and annoyance - on our way to love.

So as I shove the bags into the trunk, cold air condensing in front of me and a nice 10 degree wind-chill cutting through the down, a warmth starts radiating through me.  It is a warmth that can only come from inside - generated by positive feelings.  A warmth that, I daresay, has become more routine than new in the last two years.

Unlike all that you hear or read about people and their "new" families, I love going to my in-laws.  I love my parents in law, I love my sister in law (one of them anyway) and my brother in law too.  It's nice to be surrounded by that - by people who kid with you and bust your balls and you know it's all in good fun.  It's all the things I missed out on growing up. 

So it's me - getting a second chance at family.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Because I Promised

It wasn't like it is today, all snow covered, slippery and cold.

The weather was glorious.  No, that isn't quite right.  GLORIOUS!!  Between 65 and 88 every day.  Sun capped, breezy.  The sky as blue as the Pacific is in my dreams.  We stayed in beauty (his parents place  VERY snazzy).  We ate splendidly.  We saw two of my brothers (one in Yeshiva for the year [plus] and one recently married and "learning" there for a year). 

We ate donuts for Chanukah - donuts that you inject with your own flavors.  Through a tube.  A tube!! what will these Israeli's think of next i wonder.

Chanukah - a magical time there.  Very festive.  The city lit up.  The Diet Coke cans with Menorah's on them.  And yet 80 degrees.  Score.

We travelled a few days.  We went to Masada and Ein Gedi.  we floated in the Dead Sea.  We jeeped in the Judean Hills.  We walked through the Muslim Shuk.  We ate.  We went below the Kotel into the tunnels to the original city of David's Temple.

People say it's magic there.  And it is.  Not just for learning or whatever.  For everything.  Going there refreshes the soul.  The mind.  The body.

We floated in the Dead Sea for almost an hour.  Most people go in and out.  But as i lay there, half submerged in greasy salty water, staring at the hazy mountains in Jordan, I found within myself a peace - the type of peace I have not felt in a really long time.  A peace that carried over on the ride home, as the sun was setting, through the lighting of the candles, and the meal at some restaurant or another.  To the nighttime when (and I wont ever really talk about this stuff here but fuck it) we made love together in that greatest of cities in the world.

If I forget thee, Oh Jerusalem....

I won't forget.  And we are already talking about our next trip - maybe even this summer. 

Because it's hard to feel magic anymore.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

The Holiest of Lands

I have just returned from a week in Israel.  Do I even have to mention that it was awesome or is that just a given???

Details to follow.