Sunday, February 18, 2007

Help, i'm having a crisis.

A friend of mine commented that I am having an existential crisis at the moment. Based on my comment that the chairs we were sitting in are simply not chairs. What he may not have realized that if you ever listened to me public speak to different groups- The metaphor for grief I always used was :"It's like going to sleep in the comfort of your own bed and waking up in a home that is not yours, but with your things in it, and not knowing what happened. not even a chair is the same to you."
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My first existential crisis was at the age of 5. My mother would walk me to my Pre-school across the train tracks in Frankfurt. She would always hold my hand in her gloved one then slip our hands into her London Fog coat. My left hand would swing freely next to me and I would hold it in front of my face and think: "This is my hand, my hand is in front of me- it is an extension of my body, and although I can feel it, my eyes cannot feel it when they look at it." (I don't think my vocabulary was at that level, but you get my gist.)
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When I was a wannabe skater chick at the age of 14, I bought a book entitled "Physics and Philosophy". The 18 year-old clerk at Barnes and Noble looked at me and says "That's really great girls like you are into this kinda stuff". " My cheeks became red and I smiled to cover up the fact I had no idea about either topic but had the need to pretend I was beatnik like that and wanted to be that cool girl like that-with a cap on, drinking Lattes like that and quoting philosophers whose names I couldn't pronounce correctly...like that.
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I am so over wanting to be deep. So, when my friend calls me on what he sees- I'm thinking "no!no!no! I am not that teenager wondering about the universe and if our choices are what they are because she hasn't experienced it!!!" I'm not claiming to have experienced it either. I'm just saying- what I have experienced makes me wonder really why we live in concrete jungles. And what this (hands flurry in air), is all about.
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My heart becomes full when I think of the day I check out of concrete jungle, and into the land of Israel. Peace and quiet- next to a vineyard, working for a winery. I'd get a cow, name her Susi the cow and I'd grow things that are green, and knit- I'd learn to knit. Then, when my toes wriggle in the soil that "I" mixed- then this whole philosophy of life will truly make sense and I can go back to dancing in the mirror to Billy Idol.
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I have compiled a remedy to fight existential thoughts that make you feel 14.
The Ginrod's remedy to cure existential thoughts:
1. stove top popped kernel corn with a dab of salted Irish butter and 3 pinches of salt.
2. Ben and Jerry's Chocolate ice cream, eaten from the carton.
3. Two avocados in a bowl for general room decor.
4. Watching the E! Channel over and over until you think you care that Britney Shaved her head.
5. Remember that your x has bowel movements.
6. Throw out your old underwear.
7. Give up on the idea that you were destined to be a rock star. Miss the idea. Take the idea back, but don't tell anyone.
8. Read CNN.com and realize how stupid Americans can be and that there can't be a reason for the universe because G-d created Americans and let them vote for Bush.
9. Convince your co-workers you are a lesbian to see if they treat you differently.
10. Touch people on their nose and make a ewok- like sound.
Thanks for your time.
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I am grateful because you choose to include my blog in your reality. Now please eat some ice cream.

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