Family Weirdness

My family is weird. That is something long-established.

We were at the Cheesecake Factory and I was talking to my mom about a few weird things that some normal families do.

1. Parents not drinking coffee. As long as I can remember, the coffee ritual has been an important one in my family. When I was two I spilled hot espresso on my hand when I was sitting on my mom's lap. Back when I still woke up at seven, I would come downstairs and wait until my parents had finished with their coffee and only then would we eat. I had no idea it was even possible for adults not to drink coffee until I was maybe eleven.

2. Not taking leftovers home after eating out. I have eaten with a few families who do this and, while I'm not saying it's bad, it makes me ridiculously uncomfortable. My mom pointed out that most of those families are not descendants of Holocaust survivors or children of wars. It is worth mentioning that the amount we waste in our household is enormous compared with what my grandmother throws away in her house. It's a dismal thing to say, but it's true. War makes people think differently. My great aunt once told me that children of the war are not people who want much for themselves, they are people who want much for their children.

3. Not always having a parent home most of the time. My parents work in fields in which it is usually not terrible to call in sick or need to stay home with sick children, and often they are not far away. Each afternoon, there will always be a parent home - not always during the school day or evening, but they will always be able to transport us from place to place.

So there you have it, three things that I find strange about normal people coupled with analysis. Have a lovely normal (weird) life!

It's Okay

About two months ago, I had a dilemma.

I was thinking of applying to BU Academy - a private school full of nerds, basically. It has rigorous academics, fun people, nice art programs, etcetera.

I realize now that it likely would never have happened, but I was still seriously considering it.

I wanted to go there partly because it sounded wonderful and I would be happy there, but more to prove to myself that I could and would be intellectually superior.

The thing about me is this. Nobody ever insulted me or said I was bad at anything I do, be it art or writing or schoolwork. Nobody does, and I don't want them to. But I sometimes think so lowly of myself that it doesn't matter - I do it worse than anybody else, because no one stops me and usually I can't stop myself.

So basically, I got it into my head that I could not be the person I want to be if I did not apply and get into this school, mostly because of the academics. For myself, I always have to be good at what I do, or at least moderately so (in the case of dance). Any bad grade and I will crush myself inside constantly for a few days, then every so often for the following weeks. I will try to do everything I can about it but I will still feel absolutely horrible.

After about two weeks of sheer misery, I decided not to apply to that school. It costs thirty thousand dollars each year, and my parents work in education and music. We could afford it with financial help, but not easily, and I think I would feel so bad about using up so much that I would be even harder on myself. But more importantly, thinking about it so much made me feel horrible and stressed and sometimes sick. It made me feel stupid because many of my classes at my school are easy for me.

It was really hard - harder than I had thought - to let go of that. I still feel inadequate sometimes about myself. But after some weeks, it began to wear off, and I was able to joke about it again. And I'm beginning to realize - it's okay. It's okay to not go to the school where your entire life is grades and work. It's okay to spend a lot of time on things that aren't school-related, things that feed a different part of me - like art and writing and music and reading. It's okay not to overflow your head with work you don't understand. It's okay to be happy with where you are.

Another thing that is hard for me to realize is that yes, I want to know everything. But the time for knowing it all will come eventually. There are things that I am not in the position to know, because others must be learned first. And that's okay.

An Open Letter to Algebra

Dear algebra:

First and foremost, I despise you. Not because I really want to, it's just, you include so many numbers and letters and you are far too easy to mix up. Somehow I'm always getting things wrong with you, and it's not because I don't try. You just drive me crazy.

Why can't I see you as clearly as geometry, where everything is laid out in an ordered fashion and you can SEE it?

Okay, algebra. We'll have a treaty. I'll complete you, and you...I'm actually not sure what you get out of this. I'm pretty sure you don't care.

Your hateful student,

Shira

One Year

Yep.

I realized today that it's been exactly one year since I went to Israel for six months. Which I now classify as one of the hardest, but ultimately one of the best, experiences of my life.

I really do think I changed immensely in Israel. I became aware of the strangeness of my life, the differences between cultures and languages, and the benefits of free time. I also learned enormous amounts about myself and my relationships with other people, and how much things can feel amazing or horrible, and how much things can change with a difference in outlook.

There is a quote from the declamation piece I am doing (it's J. K. Rowling's Harvard commencement speech from 2008) that goes as follows: "You will never truly know yourself, or the strength of your relationships, until both have been tested by adversity." I think that really embodies what I learned: even as I moved away, my friendships remained. As time went on, of course, I forgot a little who they really were, but I came back and we were still friends, for all that each of us had changed. "Such knowledge," JKR continues, "is a true gift, for all that it is painfully won." Yes, it hurt like hell, leaving here. Yes, I suffered enormously at times. Yes, there were times when I was going practically insane. But I learned so much. About myself, about others, about the world. Different places really change how you think and feel. I really believe that, even if I don't seem to have changed so much, I am a different girl than the one who embarked on the most terrifying journey of her life one year ago, in many respects.

I think this change was part of what allowed me to be happy. I could not be fully happy in Israel because I was always missing the other half of me, the one from America. But when I came back I realized I would always miss some part of myself, and I have always lived in want of another place or another time. But the time is now, and I have decided to be happy, because it is good for me. That is another thing I learned in Israel: if you accept what you have, it becomes much better. I was sad and depressed and moping at first there, then I decided to like what I could like and see what would happen. I suddenly became much better friends with several people. I started talking. I started having more fun.

Though I have often been sad and confused about this, and no doubt will be again, I think that it was ultimately one of the best things I've ever done. For myself, for those around me, for my outlook. That's not to say I will do it again, because it was very difficult and I don't think I could. But as long as I live I think I will keep telling this story. Now I just have to find the next one.

Reacting

So since I am obsessed with my girlfriend, naturally I would talk about her a lot. Since she goes to a different school, nobody knows her - that is, nobody who didn't go to middle school with us.

Yesterday she came to school with me because she could, and the reactions were quite amusing.

Physics class

Person: Betty?
My girlfriend: Yup!
(he looks extremely confused)
Him: But...don't you go to, like...BU or something?
My girlfriend: Yup!
(his expression grows more confused)

French

Me: Hey everyone, this is Betty, she's visiting -
Another person: BETTY! HEEEEY!

On the Way to Advisory

Betty: Hey, Jeff!
Jeff: Hey, Betty - wait, what are you doing here?

On the Way Out of Advisory

Betty (to someone from middle school): Hey!
Him: Hey - oh, Jesus Christ.

On the Way to Lunch

Me: Hey, Kate, this is Betty!
Kate: Wait - you're Betty? You're real? She's real! Oh my god! She's real! She's pretty! Oh my god! I ship it! I ship it!
(She tackle-hugs Betty)

Generic Reaction Which Wasn't Really Amusing, Just Expected

Someone: Betty! Hi! We missed you!

Chorus

Super-Chill Girl from Frosh play: Is that her?
Me: Yep.
Her: Cool. That's nice.

Math

Mathy person: Hey, you're in this class?
Betty: I don't even go here! I haven't been here all year!

Just Dance

Recently I have begun to really miss modern dance.

Of course, the reason I didn't take modern this year is because it's on Friday at 4, which is a really uncomfortable time.

But I've started to just turn on some music and dance to it sometimes - often Hebrew music, since I feel really strongly connected to it. That's really crucial for me - a strong connection to the music itself, not only to the words.

And it's wonderful when I start to feel almost possessed by the music, just letting it carry me where it will.

I personally prefer modern and improv to classical, because I have not yet reached the point in classical where I can dance without thinking. Modern often requires a more relaxed posture, which I quite like.

So I have realized - if I'm feeling down or undecided or irritated, I should go find some empty space, turn on some music, and dance.

Vastrawesome

I don't celebrate Christmas. I celebrate Doctor Who Day. And I watched the special, and this is my favorite line EVER:

"Good evening, I'm a lizard woman from the dawn of time. And this is my wife."
- Madam Vastra

And then the maid screams uncontrollably.