In shopping around for a synagogue, I came across one where the whole service was in song with some periodic dancing. The Rabbi spoke for about a minute at the most before the band busted out with another song. There was a lot of twirling and joining hands and going around the room in a circle. I was snatched up by an old guy in a yarmulke who pulled me out of my seat as I danced and twirled awkwardly past the band. I thought oh well, what are the chances that anyone I know will see me. but of course a dear friend of my friend Tobe was sitting in one of the isles with her husband. I figured if they were there they must be into the twirling so I relaxed. Truth be told, I enjoyed myself.

I really need to buy some new clothes because the next day I was taking out the trash and when I bent over my entire boob fell out. I have lost weight recently and my bra and dress are way too big. I quickly popped it back in and then looked up to see the neighbor mowing his lawn. I think I got it back in before he spotted it but I’m not 100% sure.

My perfectionism is up again. I break through it by writing terrible poems. My two fans like to know I’m consistent.

Uuuuugh last week she had cellulitis
this week it’s gas
A bird pooped on the window
a flea bit me on the ankle
my neighbor tried to give me a random piece of wood as a gift
I’m afraid i’ll be up all night
God is good

I really got to look at my perfectionism today, my constant panic about not being good enough. It affects all areas of my life even shopping for presents. I think that whatever present I get for someone it wont be special enough, clever enough, expensive enough, thoughtful enough or creative enough. So I was looking for a birthday gift for a dear friend after procrastinating all week. I know that she likes cooking stuff so I went to Ikea thinking I would find something cookingish in there. I don’t get Ikea or how it caught on. Cheap Swedish furniture with a restaurant that sells horse meat Swedish meatballs and lingonberry juice? Ok, whatever. Anyway once I got in the store and realized I wasn’t going to find anything I had to go through the entire store to find the exit. The store is like ten miles long. Aisles and isles of Swedish nothing, it was awful and still no present, I started to panic as I made my way around the light fixtures, ugly sterile rugs and cheap wooden desks, the smell of salmon mouse and shrimp with root vegetables. I had to get, it was starting to smell good as I grew more and more desperate. Past the fake potted plants lawn furniture and then finally the exit. By the time I got outside i still had no present. It was dark as I ran empty handed to my car wondering if I should have bought a bag of frozen meat balls and gift wrapped it.

Let me just say this. As a Black person it is very difficult to talk about my interest in Judaism without feeling some pangs of “Oh my God, what will other Black people think? I don’t want to be misunderstood.” But the calling that I feel toward the religion can not and should be ignored. If you know my history you might understand why. Anyway I figure if people in Japan can adopt a Black lifestyle, I can certainly be Jewish. I love this video (except for the tanning salon part because it’s so unhealthy.) But I say, it’s all about fusion.

I have struggled with religion most of my adult life. Religion wasn’t mentioned in my house although my mother identifies with many of the cultural aspects of Judaism and tried to teach my brothers and I what she called Jewish principles. Being an African American who did not understand God, while being introduced to random Jewish principles was a recipe for confusion. In my 20s I tried to explore different spiritual paths, some resonating a little but never feeling quite complete. After having a daughter I realized that a spiritual practice is needed for both she and I. Recently I began to look at Judaism as a possibility.

Over stressed.
Waiting for the breakdown
Hours pass.
A doctor tells me the reason my eyes look sunken in is because there is less fat in the under eye area when you are older
I ponder this as a crack head calls me a bitch
Guess I didn’t see him
Too busy pondering my sunken in eyes
Fuck you crack head
I think to myself.

Lets just call my daughter Pinky Dinky Doo even though you all know her real name. Don’t let it be said that I use peoples real names. Anyway Pinky and I were out in the garden working (which means I was digging and she was wetting her American Girl Doll’s hair). When we got back inside Pinky had two bug bites which she kept complaining about. The next day I had a doctor’s appointment and while I was there I just asked them to look at Pinky’s bug bite and the next thing you now they’re telling me it’s cellulitis. I go the pharmacy to get her prescription filled and stuck my arm in the blood pressure machine to kill time. I pressed the button and the machine tightened around my arm so tight I would’ve had to cut my arm off to get it out. The pharmacist called my name and I went to get up but the machine wasn’t done calculating. Quite some time passed before it released my grip. By now people could see me panicking and were staring.

And this is my fucking day!

Took my daughter who I like to call Pinky Dinky Doo to the eye doctor for a binocular vision exam. Binocular vision is more about how the eyes work together as a team than whether or not you have 20/20. Apparently she’s having difficulty tracking things across a page. So after a six and a half hour exam the doctor tells me that they couldn’t quite get an accurate reading because Pinky Dinky Doo was doing a functional overlay? Of course my next question was “What the hell is a functional overlay?” After 5 minutes of beating around the bush I find out that this a fancy way of saying she fudged the test so she could get glasses. Are you kidding me? Really? You made me sit there for hours so you could do a functional overlay. I wanted to shake her and then pull a functional overlay and say I didn’t do it! What’s with all these new disorders and conditions for every fucking thing. Remember the good old days when you did something wrong and you were just an asshole?