Thanks for the heads up

It's Country Music Shabbat.

And let me make one thing clear: I am bringing you today's Country Music Shabbat as a 100 percent Jewish girl from her home--the Jewish State. (Um, that'd be "Israel" for you retards out there... :-) ) I'll explain in a sec.

Brad Paisley's "Letter to Me." It's supposed to be addressed to himself at high school age, but I think the point is that things always end up working out but you just don't realize it at the time that things suck. you know?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fqtbMHfpXY&feature=user

(more capitalist shit.)



Anyway, first off I want to thank people for commenting, IM-ing me, facebook messaging me, e-mailing me and whatever about all this shit I've been writing about.

Well, I had a really cool dream last night. It wasn't a creative dream, which is always a little disappointing. When it's a creative dream you get to fly, or you get to be fluent in Mandarin, or Colin Firth marries you. No no no, this was a memory. I got to re-live a memory, which I guess is pretty cool in itself.

So in my dream/memory, I was in Arkansas with my family visiting my granny for Christmas. It was the last time I ever saw her and I was 12. On Christmas Day we went downstairs to the hotel lobby to drive over to my Granny's house when the guy at the front desk said, "Merry Christmas!" Normally when I hear "Merry Christmas" I just respond by saying, "Merry Christmas!" right back because it's just easier that way. But while everyone in my family shouted, "Merry Christmas to you too!" right back at the guy, I decided to call out, "We're actually Jewish, but thanks and Merry Christmas to you too!" And before I could register the guy at the front desk's response, I felt my dad grab my arm and hurry me outside. I don't think I've ever seen my dad so freaked out in my entire life, even after he almost fell into a pond filled with ferocious carp. And he said, "Don't you EVER tell people here that you're Jewish!!!"

I woke up almost immediately afterwards (which is unfortunate because there were a lot of HAPPY memories I would have liked to have re-lived from that day), and I was surprised at how upset I found myself. I mean, I was aware that this event had happened, but in the 7/almost 8 years that have since passed I sort of found myself laughing it off. But actually remembering it from that perspective, I remember how absolutely terrifying it was. Wait a minute, I'm in my own country, in a state where my own family lives and has lived for generations, and I need to be afraid to tell people that I'm Jewish?


Someone "up there" clearly wants me to remember I'm Jewish. I don't know if it's G-d or Jesus or the Sandman, but whichever one is responsible--thanks for the heads up, buddy!

I couldn't go back to sleep because I kept thinking about all this shit. A couple weeks ago, I could have told you so many things at the drop of a hat about how I've felt like a guest in the US, or how Zionist I feel, but I had become so focused on how Israel isn't my country. To name a few:

--My parents sent me to French camp in Minnesota for a month, not realizing that it was run by Evangelical Christians. And the vast majority of campers were also Evangelical Christians. I got into a lot of arguments with people being one of the only Jews there, and it culminated with an exciting event one Sunday. One boy who had been spending most of camp time quoting the Bible like it was his job invited me to church, and I thanked him politely but reminded him that I was Jewish. And he got upset and started spewing Bible verses (and I mean, Jesus, he was 15!!!!!), and telling me I was going to Hell. I tried to just block him out, occasionally I let out a faint, "Yeah, if I'm going to Hell then I'll see you there, buddy..." But he just kept going on and on against the Jews. So finally I just got up and kicked him in the crotch as hard as I could. And walked away. And that was the end of that.

--Also at French camp: I managed to get into a verbal spat with the only other Jew in camp. We got called in to talk with the camp director, and when she was informed the kinds of things that were said, she said to both of us, not realizing that she was speaking to the only two non-Christians in the camp, "Well, that's not very Christianly of you two!" And the two of us, even though we hated each other, just looked at each other and started laughing hysterically.

--Every single time the Jews for Jesus showed up at my college, I got into arguments with them over Torah. (Hey, now that I think of it, I got into TWO arguments with Jews for Jesus since I got to Israel!) I couldn't stand that they were trying to get people to not be Jewish.

--When that horrible anti-Israel lobby book came out in the US, I went from bookstore to bookstore and hid/turned around all the copies.

--Even my dad, my Christian dad, is a Zionist.



You know what else? I am one stubborn bitch. I ain't going anywhere.



Oh man....I think we're just going to have to be patient with me. I'm a person in a new country without family. Sometimes I'm going to want to glorify The Old Country just because it'd be easier to go back, and you'll just have to be patient for me. Occasionally I'm going to forget how proud I felt on Yom Ha'Atzmaut, or how I cried upon arrival, or even the stupid things like how it makes me smile that I always hear someone calling for their friend Avi or how I find it amusing that there is pudding at breakfast. Yeah, occasionally I'm gonna get homesick and stressed and whatever and I'm going to forget all that, But eventually I'll remember that I left The Old Country for a reason.