What Do I Want?

picture: www.loosetealeaf.com

My mom said something today that really resonated with me. We were drinking sweet peach tea and eating Life Cereal from the box. 

"Loni," she said. "Stop worrying so much about the future. You may think you know what you want in life...but you really don't. Just live for today."

Today is Monday. 

It rained all day long and the clouds turned grey and gloomy. 

What do I want today? 

What do I want right now?

What I want right now, is...

To wear a jean jacket and look good in it.

To be happy when I wake in the morning

To find someone special who makes me feel excited about people and things.

To love myself...

To write more

Thanks Mom. You always know what to say. 

-Loni

 

$100 Cookies

picture: www.sweetsugarbelle.com

Baking dessert has never been my thing. Every brownie batch is burned and every cupcake tin I attempt at serving usually comes out lopsided. 

But despite my failings, I decided a few days ago that I wanted to make Ben deliciously perfect sugar cookies, and send them to him via snail-mail. Once I found a recipe online, I peaked around the ingredients in my kitchen, seeing what I already own.... and found, to my surprise, that we actually didn't have anything I needed.

You see, this recipe called for special flour, special sugar, and almond extract-- which is not something people who suck at dessert making usually own. So I naively ran to the store, ready to purchase everything on the list to make flawless cookies. 

The bill was outrageous. 

I don't really want to get into exactly how much money I spent, but let's just say that between the icing, sprinkles, various sweetening products, and flour-- it wasn't pretty.

Although I was a little shaken by my experience at the grocer,  I went home determined to make these the best batch of cookies I've ever attempted (which in comparison isn't even that great, lol). 

I read each line of the recipe twice before doing anything. I measured out everything exactly. I even sat in front of the oven while they were baking, constantly watching for any signs of burns. 

After letting them cool for a few hours, I began frosting them. I made each one different and took a lot of time arranging the sprinkles and making little icing hearts on the surface. 

When I finally sent it out in overnight mail (didn't want them to get stale), I found out that the price of the delivery plus the price of the ingredients set these cookies at a value of over $100. Oh My! I mean come on, who has that kind of money to spend on cookies?

But no matter the price, I was really looking forward to hearing from Ben once he opened the package. 
The next day, Friday, I checked my phone every hour-- the anticipation rising by the minute.  There was nothing at lunch time and still nothing by mid-afternoon. I was getting nervous because both Ben and I are shomer shabbat, meaning that we don't use electricity (like phones) on the Sabbath. I figured that maybe the package got delayed and would be delivered on Saturday. 

I was really upset. I wanted to cookies to arrive on Friday-- that's why I had paid that obscene price at the UPS store. 

But no matter—life would have to go on. Before lighting candles, to signify the beginning of the Sabbath, I called Ben to wish him Shabbat Shalom. 

The conversation went like this: 
Me: Hi. Shabbat Shalom.
Ben. Hey. Shabbat Shalom to you too. By the way-- I got the cookies this morning, thanks. 

WAHM. I don't know why-- but suddenly I just felt crushed. I almost cried when he said that. 

But here's the thing though: I wasn't even upset about the fact he just received $100 cookies and didn't bother to call me up and say thanks. No, that wasn't it at all.

When Ben opened the box and found cookies inside, maybe he thought it was just a nice gesture...something sweet I wanted to send him. But to me it was more than that. My whole day was centered around those cookies-- not because I wanted them to taste good, but because I wanted Ben to feel special, to feel like even though we are so far apart, that we are still as close as we ever were. I don't know why I thought this-- because they are just stupid cookies-- but I wanted them to mean something. 

I guess I got upset when Ben saw them for what they were...just sugar cookies that taste like almonds. Something that in reality, isn't actually a big deal. 

I think that deep inside, I've been very lonely. Sometimes I feel like I miss Ben so much that I can't breathe, and sometimes I feel like maybe there is someone else out there for me; someone who gets excited about things, and loves to talk, and wants to live not in some random part of the country, but in a place filled with family and childhood friends. 

This constant confusion of how I feel and what I want to do about it, makes me really sad sometimes. God gave me Ben, such a wonderful gift. So why do I feel like although I love him so much, I just need and want someone else? 

I know that this whole fiasco with the cookies is mostly just in my head. But I don't want to feel this way forever. I need some certainty, and that's not something you can buy, even for $100. 

Well, next time I’ll just make cookies from the mix.
-Loni

Reading Quest

source: casheefoo.deviantart.com

The amount of English books offered in the deserts of Israel is staggeringly low. As you can probably guess, I am an avid reader who is constantly in search of new books to delve into. Obviously this dry spell of stories was a problem for me; a big problem.

My friend Amanda, who lived in my building, found a used copy of Game of Thrones (book one) and gave it to  me when she was finished. I remember when she handed it over, and I was like, no way in hell am I reading this. I think that novel may have sat on my shelf for a good month, taunting me with it's 1000 page long plot line before I actually gave it a chance.

Let me explain something to you. For the longest time, I was convinced that I could not read fantasy novels. Yes, I read Harry Potter and Charlie Bone and other magical children's stories, but once I reached the age where I found the majority of my reading list in the adult section, the fantasy genre grew neglected.

In fact, I realize now that I was nothing but a common book racist. I wouldn't read fantasy, science fiction, steam punk or anything else I considered "unworthy." The stories I loved most were either classics, historical fiction or children's books.

These three categories of literature are great, don't get me wrong, but...oh, how naive I was!

When I finally did pick up Game of Thrones out of desperation, I was pulled into the story in an instant. It was full of mystery and blood and intrigue-- I was majorly hooked. It blew my mind how unfairly I had judged this genre. In actuality, the novel was both expertly plotted and well written.

I finished the first book in a little over a week and was hungering for the second book, but unfortunately could not find it anywhere. It was absolute torture. I finally decided to buy myself a Hanukkah present and purchased a Kindle Paperwhite online, using a Christmas coupon I found on amazon.com.

When it finally made its way to Israel (thank you Mom and Dad for helping me out there) I immediately downloaded the second book and submerged myself into its depths. Just on a side note, I actually thought reading on the kindle was easier on the eyes because the print wasn't so small. But anyhow, this went on for another three books until I finished the series.

So what did I learn from this experience?
1. Judging books before reading them is thoroughly insane
2. It's important to try something new every once in a while
3. Fantasy books rock!
4. I owe Amazon my sanity

Just so you know, when I got home my friend Evan, who is a major fantasy book expert, told me that Game of Thrones isn't actually that good compared to other fantasy novels. WHAT? 
Now I'm reading the Malazan Book of the Fallen series. He was right.... it reaches a new level of awesome.

Thanks for reading,
Loni

Stories

source: www.holdingwomanspace.com

I'm not sure if I've mentioned this before, but I love writing stories. Now that I think about it, every time I go back through my drawers and read the stuff I've written, I find that I have a tendency to write the same story and over again: my own, personal narrative.

Last summer I finished my very first novel. I sat down at my computer everyday and wrote until the sky grew dark and the stars came out. The process was an overwhelming roller-coaster of highs and lows, frustrations and triumphs and sometimes a waterfall  few drops of tears.

The story itself was rooted very much in my own life. The narrators, a daughter and a granddaughter, told a  a separate story, woven together through repeating themes and questions. Reading back on what I wrote, I realize that this first novel was an attempt to understand my roots and come to terms with the family and lifestyle in which I've been raised.

Like I said before, it was completely, 100% me wrapped up in 338 pages.

My Dad always says that crafting an art has layers. First, no matter what the medium is (music, painting, dance etc...) you have to build upon your own experience. He believes that looking inward is the starting point to any creative development.

The next layer of advancement begins when you  take inward pieces of yourself and share them in a way that applies to the broader world. His example is this: let's say you've struggled with anxiety everyday of your life. If you can write a piece of music or draw a picture about anxiety that makes other people think about the struggles they have in their own life, than you've succeeded.

Ideally, I would like to move on to this level of writing. I want to write a story that is not literally my life, but contains a theme or idea from my experiences that I want to explore.

It is this aim that fuels my next novel project. The story is for children this time, so the characters, setting and plot are more whimsical and exciting. It's a story about perfectionism-- something that I've struggled with since my early teenage years.

I'm a little nervous about moving beyond the realm of just...me. But I think it's the push I need to continue my writing progress.

Wish me luck
-Loni

Unpacking

source: everycollegegirl.com

I have a secret: I still haven’t unpacked. A whole year’s worth of stuff still sits in my room, invading practically the whole floor and making the neat freak inside of me scream at the top of her lungs. I don’t even like to spend much time in my room anymore , because just looking at the mounds of laundry, cleaning supplies, and little Israeli souvenirs, just stresses the hell out of me.

I've been doing a lot of things to avoid the inevitable unpacking adventure. I watch The West Wing; I search the internet for random crafty projects I probably will never end up doing. Sometimes I even clean the kitchen (yes, I know I've hit a personal low here).

Just the other day, instead of folding all the free T-shirts I've collected over the year, I made French toast out of my leftover challah. I think it came out rather well, don’t you think?



I would say that even writing this blog post, right now, is another attempt to avoid the ugly business of unpacking. So now the truth must come out. Why do I spend so much time trying to not unpack?

After spending some time thinking about it, I have come up with a possible answer to this question. Maybe I don’t want to unpack because I don’t want my year in Israel to officially come to an end? I feel like once you unpack and let your life look and feel just as it used to—the adventure is done; its over.

My year in Israel was the best year I've had in my 18 years of personhood. I really found myself there. When I stepped off the plane at Newark International Airport, dreading the reunion with my old life, I was taking steps as a different person.  Spending a year away from anything remotely familiar can really change a person.

The strangest part is that I find I don’t fit into my own life. This is the life that the old Loni (pre-Israel) built; and coming home to it feels so weird.

I guess eventually, I will have to unpack. I’ll fold my clothes and put them away in my now empty drawers. However until it is absolutely, irrevocably necessary, I’m perfectly happy to procrastinate.

So…who here likes to play internet hearts? – Loni

Long Distance

source: skinnymom.com

Ben has big glasses and hair the color of pumpernickel. The first time we spoke was outside, beneath the hot Jerusalem sun. He offered me a plump dried strawberry and I accepted.

We've been dating for about eight months now, Ben and I. He is kind and gentle, always texting me and sending silly pictures.I had a hard time saying goodbye at the airport. I remember wrapping my arms around him at the customs gate, and crying because I didn't want to ever let go.

Last night I watched an episode of The West Wing, Ben's favorite TV show. It's just the sort of program he would like-- filled with politics and big worded conversations. It's basically about USA President Bartlett (not actually a real president) and his senior staff. Throughout the whole episode, I thought of Ben.

It's hard for me to accept that our relationship has changed drastically since our return to the states. We went from seeing each other every day (movie nights, and cooking class and our occasional nap on the couch) to seeing each other...never.

Ben lives far away. I wont pinpoint where exactly, but let's just say that we're aren't even in the same time zone. Our days used to be identical- and now the 12 hours we spend before going back to sleep look nothing alike.

Even our conversations on the phone don't feel like our old conversations back in Israel. How do you tell a small piece of technology that you miss him to the point of breathlessness? How do you tell him that sometimes you cry yourself to sleep because you remember what it felt like to have him dreaming beside you, two peas in a pod.
The easy answer is this: you can't.  I find it hard to communicate anything that I'm feeling to him anymore. It's like the two of us aren't even in the same world.

The West Wing, I've found, is actually an incredible show with some really poignant messages. One of the more obvious ones is that sometimes its hard to tell the truth. In President Bartlett's case, many factors complicate the task of being honest about what's in the best interest for American citizens. Some examples include, interest groups, the congress, or large politician egos.

And for me, I've found that simply not being with Ben in person has complicated matters. I've spent a lot of time thinking about this and decided that I really need to take our relationship just one day at a time. Until I'm able to visit him, I'll have to trust that we meet everyone in our lives for a purpose and that God will eventually find a way to communicate that purpose to us.

Hopefully everything will turn out alright.
- Loni