A Quick Reference

Someone sent me this link. It's great -- and I suggest you bookmark it.

Don't thank me. Everyone...all together now....

"THANK YOU, MARALLYN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

http://www.allmyfaves.com/

A Girl Can Dream....Can't She????

Job Details

Organization:My Perfect Princess Party

Application Deadline:Thursday May 15, 2008

Website: http://www.myppp.ca
Position: Princess Performer
Term: Contract
Location: Toronto and GTA
Salary: $70.00/hr
Start Date:

Job Description
My Perfect Princess Party (www.myppp.ca) is looking for a new girl to play Barbie as well as Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty in Toronto and the GTA. Compensation is $70/hour

Requirements
Requirements:- valid drivers license- access to a car all weekends- available all weekends- beautiful singing voice

Additional Information
If you would like to apply please send the following to careers@myppp.ca- Performance resume- Head shot- full body shot- hair colour, eye colour, height, weight, dress size

Good luck to all applicants!

Send Submissions To: e: careers@myppp.ca

Organization Description
Make your little princess' special day truly magical . . .Your daughter will really believe she has her favorite fairytale princess at her party - a day to remember and treasure forever!
She can choose her Fairytale favourite: Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Tinkerbell, The Little Mermaid, and Arabian Nights. Or she could choose Barbie, Bratz, or a Ballerina party.

Google Thyself

It was probably about six years ago that someone had told me they'd Googled me. I didn't know what they meant. It had a risque sound to it!

But once they explained they'd put in a search with my name, I began to do that too every now and again. I still do, simply as a means to see what cyberspace tracks and TRAPS about me.

If I write and publish something new, my name is sometimes attributed to that, but not always.
Sometimes comments I leave on websites appear, too.

I seek my maiden name and come across Polly Adler, aka Pearl Adler, a notorious madam.

I seek out my married name and Google usually presents me with Nick Saban, a sports coach, or Pearl Harbor. Hello...? My name is Pearl Saban.

Googling oneself is sometimes as good as going to a different city and looking up your name in a phonebook. Sometimes it exists; other times it doesn't. But it's a game of curiousity.

See if there's a famous version of you out there. Ahem...a version famous for more than just a blog...or leaving a perpetual comment on a blog!

60 Years Young

Happy 60th, Israel.

I think you should have a falafel to mark this special day.

Inquiring Minds Want to Know

Last Thursday I traveled to Ottawa (about a 5 hour road trip from Toronto) with my daughter and the rest of her school choir as well as several parents. This choir was having the privilege of performing in the national Yom Hashoah ceremony on the steps of the Parliament Building, along with Canadian dignitaries, international ambassadors and numerous survivors, who would be having the privilege of laying wreaths in memory of countless numbers who'd died in the Holocaust.

The choir children, grades 3-6, were excited by this honor and had started official countdowns to their Ottawa trip. The previous evening, they'd performed at the main Toronto Yom Hashoah ceremony, an annual event.

Giddy with excitement, my daughter had continually told us, "Stephen Harper, the prime minister, might be introducing us."

Needless to say, Prime Minister Harper was not there on Thursday, apparently off on other official national business.

When we left Ottawa, I called my husband to tell him we were on our way and to expect us around midnight; my youngest had picked up the extension, but my husband told him to get off so that we could talk. A few moments after I'd hung up with Ron, the cell phone rang. I thought my husband was calling me back...

Me: "Hello?"

Noam: "Hi, Eema."

Me: "Hi, Noam."

Noam: "Where are you?"

Me: "In Ottawa. We're on our way back to Toronto. We're on the highway."

Noam: "What did you do there?"

Me: "I went to see Adina and the choir sing at the parliament building."

Noam: "Was Stephen Harper there?"

Me: "No he wasn't."

Noam: "Why not? Where was he?"

This recently-turned-eight-year-old expected me to know the prime minister's agenda! I didn't expect him to know who our country's prime minister was!

I relayed the story to my mother. She relayed it to my father. My father is relaying it to everyone!

You can catch a glimpse of the choir in this short news video bit:

http://www.achannel.ca/ottawa/news_56560.aspx

Israel at 60

I was contacted yesterday -- no doubt a general email sent out -- by the publisher/editor of a U.S.-based literary publication that had featured one of my poems a couple years back--Poeticamag. The essence of the email message was: We are looking for poetry and short stories celebrating Israel 60th birthday. Please submit in the body of the email - no attachments.

I assume the publisher is seeking pieces for the journal's website not a print edition. I quickly answered the call-out, writing the following poem in about 3 minutes.


AT SIXTY

At sixty, one is not quite old, neither young...but somewhere in the middle.

With life lines to show,
fine wrinkles here and there,
graying hair or balding patches,
hinting age spots
and a book of photographs depicting a life.

At sixty, Israel is not quite old, neither young...but somewhere in the middle.

But in truth she is ancient -- Israel is a "she," you know -- and was reborn in May 1948.

Not everyone has the chance to be reborn. But Israel...she fought to be reborn.
She fought hard. Her supporters fought harder.

From desert sands and barren fields, she brought forth life.

From stark grayness, she brought forth greens and blues.

From a handful of devotees, she yielded multitudes of lovers.
Lovers of her country.
Lovers of her language.
Lovers of her culture.
Lovers of the blue and white of her draping flag.

Lovers of "Hatikvah."
Hope. Forever sustaining Israel.
Forever sustaining...

Published for Passover

Last week my mother called me up on Wednesday and said she'd seen my poem in the Jewish news and that it was very nice.

I knew I'd submitted a poem to be considered for the annual Passover literary supplement to the Canadian Jewish News, but couldn't remember which one I'd submitted!

And when I saw it, I remembered; I'd actually written the poem sometime last year and posted it on my blog, then this past February submitted it to the CJN.

The poem is based on an incident that happened to me; it is truth patterned in a poetic style is all.

Oftentimes that's what poetry is. At least my poetry.

It is nice to get published once again. To have my words published in a venue that means something to me, in a venue that is accessible to so many people in Canada, the States and abroad.

Here is the link: http://www.cjnews.com/images/stories/Supplements/2008_Passover_Lit.pdf

Find your way to page 22 of the supplement and you will find my poem. (The Montreal edition of the literary supplement has my poem appear on a different page with a slightly different layout, because of the advertising.)

Food A-Plenty

Many times I've told you what kind of special husband I have. I'm telling you again: he took 3 days off of work to help prepare for Pesach -- shopping and cooking and cleaning. We work pretty well as a team or sometimes he's the master chef and I'm the sous chef or main dishwasher, but together we get things done.

My husband enjoys working in the kitchen and attempting new recipes; I look to take shortcuts oftentimes.

For the seders and Yom Tov day meals we had some wonderful dishes:

chicken soup with knaidlach (matzah balls) and pupiklech (chicken stomachs)
vegetable soup (leek, sweet potato, potato, squash, carrots, broccoli)
gefilte fish
salmon trout
grilled vegetables
green salad
broccoli and potato kugel
pickled beef brisket
veal brisket
turkey roll with mushroom sauce
pastilles (ground beef stuffed in potato balls)
banana sorbet
matzah cake
lemon pie

For the charoset, we had 2 types: Ashkenazi and Sephardi. I made the Ashkenazi one: apples, cinnamon, walnuts (I tossed in ground almonds too), sweet wine. My husband made his family's Sephardi one: dates, sweet wine and walnuts. (with one small apple thrown in for good measure)
Certainly would've been a tasty mortar for those bricks those Israelites were busy assembling for Pharoah!

We have lots of leftovers and will cook fresh for next Shabbos and the end of the chag. And hopefully the diet starts AFTER that!

Passover Is A-Comin'

With Shabbos just around the corner and Pesach not too far behind, I wanted to take a moment to wish my Jewish readers a good Shabbos, as well as a chag kasher v'sameach.

May you enjoy your family and friends at your table or the company at others' tables.

And as my dear father has always said, "May we be able to wish each other a Happy Pesach next year again."

Amen.

A Fish Tale

I just found this article from a few years ago.

Some people have crying Madonnas; other people have talking fish!


Word is made flesh as God reveals himself... as a fish
Edward Helmore New York

The Observer,

Sunday March 16 2003


This article appeared in the Observer on Sunday March 16 2003 . It was last updated at 02:22 on March 16 2003.

An obscure Jewish sect in New York has been gripped in awe by what it believes to be a mystical visitation by a 20lb carp that was heard shouting in Hebrew, in what many Jews worldwide are hailing as a modern miracle.

Many of the 7,000-member Skver sect of Hasidim in New Square, 30 miles north of Manhattan, believe God has revealed himself in fish form.

According to two fish-cutters at the New Square Fish Market, the carp was about to be slaughtered and made into gefilte fish for Sabbath dinner when it suddenly began shouting apocalyptic warnings in Hebrew.

Many believe the carp was channelling the troubled soul of a revered community elder who recently died; others say it was God. The only witnesses to the mystical show were Zalmen Rosen, a 57-year-old Hasid with 11 children, and his co-worker, Luis Nivelo. They say that on 28 January at 4pm they were about to club the carp on the head when it began yelling.

Nivelo, a Gentile who does not understand Hebrew, was so shocked at the sight of a fish talking in any language that he fell over. He ran into the front of the store screaming: 'It's the Devil! The Devil is here!' Then the shop owner heard it shouting warnings and commands too.

'It said "Tzaruch shemirah" and "Hasof bah",' he told the New York Times, 'which essentially means that everyone needs to account for themselves because the end is near.'

The animated carp commanded Rosen to pray and study the Torah. Rosen tried to kill the fish but injured himself. It was finally butchered by Nivelo and sold.

However, word spread far and wide and Nivelo complains he has been plagued by phone calls from as far away as London and Israel. The story has since been amplified by repetition and some now believe the fish's outburst was a warning about the dangers of the impending war in Iraq.

Some say they fear the born-again President Bush believes he is preparing the world for the Second Coming of Christ, and war in Iraq is just the opening salvo in the battle of Armageddon.
Local resident Abraham Spitz said: 'Two men do not dream the same dream. It is very rare that God reminds people he exists in this modern world. But when he does, you cannot ignore it.'
Others in New Square discount the apocalyptic reading altogether and suggest the notion of a talking fish is as fictional as Tony Soprano's talking-fish dream in an episode of The Sopranos .
Stand-up comedians have already incorporated the carp into their comedy routines at weddings. One gefilte company has considered changing its slogan to: 'Our fish speaks for itself.'

Still, the shouting carp corresponds with the belief of some Hasidic sects that righteous people can be reincarnated as fish. They say that Nivelo may have been selected because he is not Jewish, but a weary Nivelo told the New York Times : 'I wish I never said anything about it. I'm getting so many calls every day, I've stopped answering. Israel, London, Miami, Brooklyn. They all want to hear about the talking fish.'

A devout Christian, he still thinks the carp was the Devil. 'I don't believe any of this Jewish stuff. But I heard that fish talk.'

He's grown tired of the whole thing. 'It's just a big headache for me,' he added. 'I pull my phone out of the wall at night. I don't sleep and I've lost weight.'

Richard Lewis Confirmed You As a Friend on Facebook...

Yup, it's true.

THE Richard Lewis and I are THIS CLOSE.

Okay, so what if I'm one of his 266 Facebook friends...we're still friends. He confirmed it -- just as in the title of this post. Just as in the subject line of the email I received.

And would you believe that out of all those friends he's got, we only have one Facebook friend in common?! A former classmate of mine in Jewish day school and high school is also a friend of Richard's -- talk about coincidences.

So how does one become Richard's friend? Well, in checking out my classmate's Facebook friends, I noticed Richard was on that list.

Richard? The Richard Lewis? The Richard Lewis of "Anything but Love" Marty Gold fame? The Richard Lewis who has attained new viewing audiences with his "Curb Your Enthusiasm" appearances? The Richard Lewis who has made black shirts, black sports jackets and black pants all the rage? The Richard Lewis with those big, baby-doe-caught-in-headlights eyes? The Richard Lewis who made "Jewish neurotic comedian" a familiar term? The Richard Lewis who, in every stage appearance, runs his fingers through his hair countless times to do what no mousse or hair gel could ever do?

Yup...that Richard Lewis.

So silly me just dropped him a message, reminding him of a show he'd played in Toronto close to 20 years ago, which I attended and where I'd managed to get his autograph in a comedy book of mine, with the help of an usher. And after the show I ran into him at a Toronto popular cafe and approached him then to say hello.

Must've hit a nostalgic soft spot 'cause the very next day I got confirmation that I'm his friend.

Okay, friend, I'm making a bar mitzvah in June for my son. Would you like to MC the luncheon? Or, okay, friend, would you like to be a special guest speaker in my other son's grade 2 class on Career Day? Or, okay, friend, I have another friend -- a blogging friend -- I want you to connect with. He's funny, he's neurotic like you, he's apparently a chick magnet, and he writes well. Maybe you can introduce him to your other friend, Larry David.

Here's to a long and -- if your monologues prove anything -- a long-winded (Facebook) friendship!

This Has Yiddisher Ta'am...

http://www.davidseastsidedeli.com/1.html

Play the music button when you open this link.

Anyone Can Make A Difference

http://shmais.com/news.cfm?ID=44538

A Beautiful Song...

I just discovered this song/singer on http://www.jewishtvnetwork.com/ -- it is such a beautiful and simple piece of music, and no doubt will leave you teary-eyed.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cac5iXNREJg

This Kid's Always Thinking...

I was preparing school lunches this morning and asked my youngest son if he wanted baby carrots or a cucumber for snack. He preferred the cucumber and I asked if he wanted a mini cucumber. He said yes but asked me to peel the skin first.

As I was washing and peeling the skin, he asked with a smile, "Do you have any dill to put on that?"

I said no, and he replied, "That way, I could have had a pickle!"

PPS*...

*Pre-Passover Syndrome...

Oy, this is something I'm already suffering from.

Symptoms:

-- clenched stomach muscles

-- new stray gray hairs

--an aversion to brown shelf paper

--continually consulting a calendar

--mental listing

--bingeing on nosh food

--anxiety... I want to eat all the food in the freezer

Like in most cities, Pesach is in the air. It's not even Purim yet, but I sure got a whiff of Pesach last week already when the supermarkets' Kosher aisles were half empty, the dry goods temporarily shelved elsewhere in the stores, and brown paper was lining the shelves.

It used to be the moment Purim was over that Pesach took over, but now Pesach seems to want to have even more of a head start!

And you know how it is with those Mishloach Manot packages -- before we buy goodies to package for others, we hit our own stocks of cookies and cakes and candies and other nosherai and think , "Good, if I give this to ______, it'll be a few less items in my cupboards that I have to get rid of before Pesach."

I had to smile the other night when I was shopping. The kosher aisles in this particular store had mainly been emptied with some shelves already housing paper goods and candy and cookies kosher l'Pesach. A very frum husband and wife were slowly walking down the aisle, presumably looking for where the Purim items were hiding. The husband aimlessly ran his hand along the brown paper lining an empty shelf, and his wife exclaimed in Yiddish: "What? You're touching the Pesachdik paper with 'treife' hands!!?"

I spoke today to a cashier in one of the predominantly Kosher supermarkets nearby and she told me that some years ago, the shelves would only get stocked two weeks before Pesach, so there'd be a mad flurry of purchases. These days, four and five weeks in advance is when the "matzah" ball starts rolling...

I'm sure I'm not the only Jewish female suffering from PPS. Maybe together with others like me, we should form a support group for this time of year. But then, come to think of it, who'd be available? The others will be busy assessing their cupboards and pantries, their cleaning supplies, their paper goods supply...and will then go on to recipes.

I'll still be eating my way through my Mishloach Manot packages...and then tackling the contents of my freezers!

We have some time to worry about Pesach.

In the meantime, I wish you a Freiliche Purim. And to those who celebrate Easter, Happy Easter.

Bye-Bye, Guy

One of today's headlines is Madonna and husband Guy, after 8 years of marriage, are preparing to go their separate ways...in Fall '09.

What?! Their fans need some 18 months to mentally prepare themselves for this celeb couple's split? Or perhaps this couple came to this offbeat decision by checking their Blackberries...

"No, Guy. Next month isn't good -- the kids are off with me to visit my dad. I don't want to upset them."

"Madonna, summer isn't a good time. You know that. I play a lot of rugby and do horse wrangling -- I don't have time to make appts. with legal counsel."

"Guy, this fall isn't good. I'm hanging in Hollywood with my Kabbalah pals for the High Holidays. If we try to tackle divorce then, my soul won't be pure for the New Year."

"Madonna, I'm shooting a film from December '08 through June '09 on Malta. I'll be unavailable for legal consults."

"Guy, I think we're both clear for Fall 2009. That should give our fans enough time to mentally prepare themselves for our split..."

___

And on a similar note...

I was on the Yeshiva World website, which I find interesting. I'm not up on all the Yeshivish lingo that can be found in the comments, but I'm learning.

Once in a while they feature letters from the YW mailbag -- and these make for countless comments.

I've read open forum letters about THE SHIDDUCH CRISIS.

Last night there was an open forum letter about THE DIVORCE CRISIS.

What?! First there are not enough guys to match up with girls and girls to match up with guys because of all the predetermined wants/needs/have-to-haves. And now there are too many has-beens floating out there?

The theories readers offer as to why there is a divorce crisis in the yeshivish world is interesting. The theories readers offer as to why there is a shidduch crisis in the yeshivish world is interesting.

Mazel. Mazel. Mazel. Hard work. Hard work. Hard work.

That's what it takes to find a partner...hopefully a life partner.

Guess Guy and Madonna will be adding to the "crisis."

Gettin' in the Spirit of Purim

For the month of Adar, my children's school celebrates even before Purim officially arrives. The halls are bedecked with magnificent thematic decorations, put together by our wonderful b'not sherut girls who come from Israel for the year to help out in the school.

Last week, the students from nursery through grade 8, were invited to dress up like their favorite teacher or administration staff member. My youngest son and at least 3 of his friends chose to dress like the same person, so seeing their interpretations of that person was interesting.

Today was "crazy hair day"... and my three children had me spray their hair this a.m. with silver, blue, and sparkles.

Wednesday is their Purim carnival.

Thursday, my oldest son has a half day because of the fast, and G-d willing, at night, we will go downtown to one of the remaining Orthodox shuls, and hear megillah there.

And G-d willing, my father is being released tomorrow from hospital and able to go home.

(I realized when I went to drop off and pick up my kids from school today that it wasn't a "crazy hair day" for me; it was a BAD HAIR DAY!!!)

Cleaning Up One's Act

I said to my husband yesterday that if I were a playwright, I'd write a one-act play -- a black humor piece -- about the following... How people need to settle things by cleaning: they clean and tidy up for the cleaning lady -- G-d forbid she should be faced with such a clutter; and they clean and tidy up in anticipation of having to soon hold a shiva in their home -- G-d forbid that those who come to comfort the mourners should see the clutter and whirlwind state of a family's belongings.

It hasn't been a good week: my father was rushed to hospital after midnight on Tuesday. He developed a sudden flu and fever, and with his already delicate medical history, it threw things off balance so that he was so weak and unable to walk, and suffered from a couple of seizures, confusion. He has finally been moved to a room from Emergency where he was in isolation -- Influenza A was the diagnosis -- until yesterday. I had to gown up, mask up and glove up in order to see him each time.

Thank G-d he's much better than he was and we hope he will continue to improve so that after a few days he can return home...usually a better place to recover.

My husband's mom isn't well and is deteriorating quickly. A vibrant and vital woman suddenly felled by an ugly disease...

It isn't easy to watch her nor see my husband in his worry and pain.

I said to him the other day: "I've never been so close to death before."

May we only share simchas and welcome Purim later this week with freiliche spirits.

Excuses, Excuses

I have found as an adult that people make a LOT of excuses. You think that stops with children and teens, but nuh-uh...excuses come out in a different way with adults.

"We [a family of six] are going to Israel...BUT it's for a family simcha...AND it's all on points."

"We're going to Florida over the school break, BUT it's ONLY for a week."

"...I'm going to Mexico JUST for a week." (I often tell people when they've given me their vacation travels and have thrown JUST FOR into the same sentence that they should never say JUST...simply because some people NEVER travel.)

I once had a conversation with someone who'd moved from a reasonable-sized, modest home into a large, well-to-do home on a posh street. When I mentioned she had a nice house, she said, "I'm glad the house looks small from the outside and not so ostentatious, so people won't talk."

Honey, you think people don't talk?! Of course they talk when you move from the equivalent of a 3-star roadside motel into a penthouse suite at Trump Tower. Your excuses don't change anything.

I know people who are bankrupt and owe tons of people tons of money yet they take mini vacations with their family. "We're under a lot of stress. We NEED a vacation."

People are continually apologizing for what they have or belittling what they have. It surprises me simply because I think that they're trying to protect themselves and what they have in some way. That's how it appears.

Money seems to set the tone for many conversations in this community in which I live; even if not overtly, dollars and cents seem to hover silently overhead.

I wish that people would simply enjoy what they have, make no excuses about it and at the same time not brag.

After all, cents don't often give a person SENSE.