tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26710165375277520682012-01-18T00:43:23.741-05:00"This may be read or not as any one pleases." -Benjamin FranklinErachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.comBlogger5021100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-36514945214021039692011-12-12T19:57:00.004-05:002011-12-12T20:25:22.279-05:00

You pull all the books off the library shelvesYou sprawl on the floor, then jump up andTurn a chair on its head,You hug other children until you topple them over,You roll up the rug, then you roll yourselfUntil I scoop you up,Put you on my lap,And say, "Look at me, look at me,"But you don't."Look at me," I say.But you won't."You're being very wild," I say.Are you even listening?I can feel the

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-49677501818885137492011-10-03T13:23:00.002-04:002011-10-03T13:31:47.821-04:00

(Two guys in their mid-20s or so enter the elevator mid-conversation)Dark-Haired Guy: But you are what you eat man. I mean, if all you eat are carrots all day, you're going to start developing some characteristics of a carrot. And the same thing is true of celery. That's how I feel.Light-Haired Guy: That's crazy, man.Dark-Haired Guy: Yeah, but it's true. If you eat, let's say, Tabachnik Soup and

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-86800995527178033972011-09-20T20:52:00.004-04:002011-09-20T20:58:45.786-04:00

Tall, Pimply Girl: I once went into Subway and they didn't have any cheese.Short, Straight-Haired Girl: No!TP Girl: Yeah. It was...Kosher and stuff. But still--they should at least have the option! I was so mad. It's Subway. I mean, it's not like--SSH Girl: Yeah, it's a chain! What does that mean, they didn't have cheese?TP Girl: It was in this real Jewish neighborhood. But [deleted] it, I want a

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-53348603545201204892011-05-09T23:22:00.003-04:002011-05-10T00:07:08.966-04:00

As life would have it, after not posting for several months, I lay down to sleep, my eyes close, and suddenly a post begins to nag at me. I have to sigh and write the thing if that little writerly voice in my head will ever let me get to sleep tonight.Truth be told, this post has been brewing for a while, but I just now have thought of some particular ways to put things. I am not sure where I

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-54451680212993270772011-02-02T22:09:00.001-05:002011-02-02T22:09:51.226-05:00

Things a substitute should not do:1. Use how many years you've been a teacher as a threat or reason why kids should listen to you. Kids don't care how many years you've been a teacher. In fact, it's more fun to terrorize a seasoned teacher who in all her "30 years of teaching has never seen kids so noisy" (which I'm sure is also not at all true, she has definitely seen kids that noisy). What

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-23738130684016669552011-01-27T10:37:00.003-05:002011-01-27T10:41:24.396-05:00

Jughead put it perfectly.I hate it when people tell me I'm never around. I know I'm never around. Believe me, I'm never around to spend time with myself, either. I'm never home, I'm never in the Heights, I'm never in Queens, I'm never anywhere. I never see anyone. I miss everything that goes on and always have to be filled in. And somehow, I'm always left feeling like it's my fault. I feel like

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-43050284870978224122011-01-18T18:04:00.003-05:002011-01-18T18:16:03.511-05:00

Last night in my apartment, we made an apartment calendar with everyone's general schedules on it so that we'd all have some idea of where each other are at any given time. It got me thinking about how crazy my schedule is going to be this semester.Wake up: 6:00 AMLeave apartment: 7:00 AMArrive at field work: 8:00 AMLeave field work: 3:20Mondays and Wednesdays:Leave field work: 3:20Arrive at Bank

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-89796303313248321622010-11-29T16:12:00.004-05:002010-11-29T16:29:32.649-05:00

...is what Jughead's Hat said to me on Saturday night as we walked into the building of his old high school to get the mp3 player he supposedly left there a few nights before."What?" I asked.He didn't respond until we got into the elevator."I need the proper setting. I'm such a ham."Those lines sounded so familiar, and he said them in this way that sounded like something was about to happen. I

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-34937457974278874612010-11-11T17:24:00.002-05:002010-11-11T16:30:33.070-05:00

For the past few weeks, the third grade class in which I was student teaching was preparing for a Mexican festival they were learning about called Day of the Dead. Day of the Dead takes place on November 1st and 2nd in Mexico and is when people honor and celebrate the lives of their family members who have passed away. Each student in my class picked an ancestor or someone in their family who had

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-89877984081714802592010-11-03T15:36:00.002-04:002010-11-03T15:50:56.550-04:00

Out of the night that covers me,Black as the Pit from pole to pole,I thank whatever gods may beFor my unconquerable soul.In the fell clutch of circumstanceI have not winced nor cried aloud.Under the bludgeonings of chanceMy head is bloody, but unbowed.Beyond this place of wrath and tearsLooms but the Horror of the shade,And yet the menace of the yearsFinds, and shall find, me unafraid.It matters

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-31450821966332048612010-10-03T22:30:00.002-04:002010-10-03T22:31:10.168-04:00

There comes a point in time when life gets so crazy, that sometimes you can't remember who your friends are anymore.

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-22045042674999602252010-08-11T15:25:00.002-04:002010-08-11T15:26:34.148-04:00

This article about "maladies" many writers out there are afflicted with is hilarious!Excerpt: Description Overload: Upon this page there is a period. It is not just any period, it is a period following a sentence. It follows this sentence in a way befitting a period of its kind, possessing a roundness that is pleasing to the eye and hearty to the soul. This period has the bearing of a regal

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-41059584963997737342010-07-19T17:20:00.004-04:002010-07-19T17:36:38.263-04:00

The prickly feet of every tiny, inky word wills me to spit them all outBut the string of preservation tugsAnd I close my mouth.The tap-dancing words shuffle on my tongue until I swallow them(scraping and rolling and coiling to the boxing match on the floor of my stomach)In one big gulp.

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-36482721633079946342010-07-16T01:34:00.002-04:002010-07-16T01:37:13.748-04:00

Do you ever feel like you could explain yourself 'til your brain turns inside out and yet people just won't get it?

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-47998170695562425802010-06-29T04:37:00.003-04:002010-06-29T04:57:10.840-04:00

Chug chug chugHello! We saved you dinner.Fling a hugWhat's going on?Missing something--what? Not important.Well, you're never here.Chug chug chugYou're back! How was home?My feet barely touched the soft carpet.We're off to sing, didn't you know?Well, you're never here.Chug chug chugLong hours in a classroom.Square walls, powerpoint, smart board.Chug chug chugPlease be empty, please be empty.Empty

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-43581837083767123322010-06-10T08:07:00.004-04:002010-06-10T08:55:04.120-04:00

I'm taking a class this June called Developmental Variations. It's a class in child development for kids who develop atypically - aka kids who have special needs of all various sorts. Yesterday, I was grouped with a few others to do a presentation on hearing loss. While working together, we came across the videos below.Cochlear implants are actually a very controversial issue for the Deaf

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-32572466705211837462010-05-17T03:31:00.004-04:002010-05-17T03:50:12.303-04:00

Every Sunday, I spend two hours helping out at a writing workshop for six wonderful third graders. I watch them write the kind of stories that eight-year-olds tend to write...the kind of stories I used to write as a kid. And sometimes...I'm a little jealous of them. They don't know many of the rules and conventions of writing. They don't all know about the proper way to format a piece of writing.

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-29100455824288274502010-04-26T02:09:00.002-04:002010-04-26T02:11:48.493-04:00

Hi all. I know it's been a while. I don't have anything in particular to write, except that life is good. And busy. And good.I hope you're all doing well, as well!My first semester of graduate school ends in two weeks, so maybe I'll be able to write a real post then...

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-32607331891306899222010-04-14T18:28:00.002-04:002010-04-14T18:29:43.753-04:00

Seeing as it's Rosh Chodesh and I can actually post something with music, I'm going to post a song I really like. It's actually a Diana Ross song (featured in The Land Before Time), but this video is of a ten-year-old girl singing it. It's really pretty. Enjoy!

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-18738338242921443732010-03-23T15:56:00.000-04:002010-03-23T15:57:10.160-04:00

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-34676192245380910312010-03-16T02:19:00.001-04:002010-03-16T07:37:26.856-04:00

Little footstepsTripping in my stomachTurning and coiling tightInto quivering little balls.I shake my headAnd spoon out the cobwebsTo unearth searing clarity.Why do I do the things I do?Say the things I say?Feel the things I feel?Is any of it real?Feet pounding on the dirtKicking up sandBreath snagged on a coughHand outstretched toward an impossible endNo one can achieve perfection --That word

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-30790344379232226122010-03-16T00:28:00.006-04:002010-03-16T00:43:29.318-04:00

As I get older and interact with more people, I notice how different people have different values. Some people are very hospitable. Some have excellent table manners. Some are extremely generous. Some know how to speak to others kindly, even when being firm or opinionated.Noticing others' values makes me quite aware of my own. I was taught that you always put others before yourself (when

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-23974580871570229402010-03-10T17:45:00.005-05:002010-03-10T19:07:10.744-05:00

As certain things in my life seem to be coming together at last, I find myself thinking about the tempestuous waves that crashed against the walls of my beliefs, my self-image, and my entire thinking over the past few years. I started this post with many different headings, and then realized they are all equally important in sparking my journey toward who I'm beginning to become (though I'm not

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-25294197938103311622010-03-03T13:48:00.005-05:002010-03-03T20:45:42.622-05:00

Mazel tov to Mavis' hockey team on winning their playoff game in triple overtime last night! After an undefeated season, they now get to play in the championship next Sunday. Good luck to them!

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-18189364019578597902010-03-02T00:54:00.002-05:002010-03-02T01:06:01.618-05:00

anonymousa collection of ironed-straight hair,stiffly gelled curls,nondescript --clones.indistinguishableblurred blades of grass in an endless meadowblack, white, brown, bright colors streamingindivisiblewatercolors running together,invisible --adjectives.anonymous me.

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-20435355066830351412010-02-23T14:06:00.000-05:002010-02-23T14:06:46.314-05:00

It was a piece of paper. A piece of paper. And yet it held such power, such weight, such a determining factor in Lily’s life. Well...didn't it?Rejection.The sound of it reverberated like a verdict barked in a courtroom. And yet - the reverberations did not shock Lily. Rather, they bounced like little balls of putty going boing! boing! boing! up and down Lily's insides, tickling her rather. She

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-50646564208914383902010-02-21T01:57:00.005-05:002010-02-21T12:33:50.476-05:00

Learning is this private, personal thing that becomes highly embarrassing if anyone were to walk in on you doing it. I suppose it doesn't have to be this way, but it often is. Suddenly, someone starts judging you and comparing you to the experts - or at least to the ones who do things significantly better than you (or maybe not even that much better, or even better at all, but who have more of a

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-62174727838016138272010-02-19T05:09:00.003-05:002010-02-19T05:44:40.525-05:00

A voice in the darkness monopolizes your attention until you realize you can move. You spring out of bed and the darkness swallows you, but with some just-discovered fortitude, you stand where you are until you can see - there is the light switch! You run over and stretch out an amorphous hand... Have you done it? Have you flicked the light switch? You definitely moved it - but enough? You try

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-20076444941487415672010-02-17T02:29:00.004-05:002010-02-17T03:23:25.822-05:00

One drop of a drizzleOne drizzle of a rain stormOne glint of sunlight in a deep puddle on the streetOne shallow footprint in the hardening snowWhite-out world, gray sky frozen fogSilent moans through the empty rustling treesNumb fingers, numb face, squished toesHat itchesSand in your head, muffled thoughtsFeeling strikes - burningFlames of blood churningWind blowsKnocked over in the snowGrip

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-16563176648482517182010-02-17T00:16:00.003-05:002010-02-17T00:32:58.604-05:00

The balloon kept wanting to go up. The little girl tugged on the string. No, she said. Mine. The balloon sailed obligingly along beside her as she walked, bobbing up and down. They stepped through bushes, the little girl's shoes crunching on green and brown brush on the ground. A clearing opened up before them, green world bursting forth in a rush of twitting blades of grass. Dandelion laughter

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-4245759220256797942010-02-16T02:01:00.005-05:002010-02-16T02:38:50.622-05:00

Bored Jewish Guy started a challenge about thoughts on a first date, so I figured I'd give my version of it (mostly because I'd love some feedback for the few questions I ask). Enjoy!The Preparation:Usually I start to get ready about an hour before pick-up time. I've probably planned out in my head what I want to wear much earlier in the day, so I take it out of my closet and lay it on my bed. I

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-64652698208501769812010-01-29T00:36:00.004-05:002010-01-29T01:29:08.376-05:00

In discussing the reading for today's class, the five of us at my table started talking about how the attitude towards children changes depending on the politics and social norms of the time, as well as where you are culturally. I commented how here in America, we are very into Democracy...and Capitalism. I trailed off thoughtfully."They're not really the same thing," J, the guy sitting next to

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-61137986358187948482010-01-27T15:23:00.004-05:002010-01-27T19:11:53.973-05:00

This week in one of my classes, we discussed two important principles of learning:1. Building on what you know2. Building on your successSo often, schools administer assessment tests in order to discover what the students do not know. Once this information is ascertained, teachers begin to fill in those gaps. They start from the top, from the end goal, and work downward.This is actually not the

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-58028273813009923972010-01-22T02:01:00.005-05:002010-01-22T11:32:44.631-05:00

For those of you who don't know, I just started graduate school this week. I'm studying Literacy and General Childhood Education.Didn't know I was interested in teaching?Funny. I'm not sure how well I knew it either not that long ago.Tonight was my second class of the semester, and in tonight's class (called Child Development), we each had to talk to the person sitting next to us for five minutes

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-31401587628579173192010-01-16T19:30:00.006-05:002010-01-17T02:31:44.539-05:00

That girl, she sits alone in her chairOff to the side of the roomAnd the rest of the people are laughingAnd dancingAnd feeling the flush of their bloomAnd that little girl, her hands clenched in her lapHer hair falling into her faceHer cheeks are pale white like an apple's insidesAnd she feels terribly out of placeAnd doesn't she knowShe deserves to feel beautifulBeautifulDoesn't she knowSomeone

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-7037436499002706522010-01-14T20:22:00.003-05:002010-01-14T20:31:59.396-05:00

I'm such a bad writer. Not that my writing is bad, but I'm bad at actually writing it. I'm so annoyed at myself, but every time I sit down to write, I get blank. Even when I try to just start writing anything, I write a little bit and then hit a wall. What happened to me? Why can't I write for hours anymore? Have I run out of things to say?I'm really so frustrated with myself, because I do care

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-28840239615833254032010-01-07T16:41:00.005-05:002010-01-07T17:32:42.754-05:00

Things I like (in no particular order):1. Notebooks2. .5mm lead pencils3. Clean laundry4. Fun colors and patterns5. Playing the flute6. Creative writing7. Helping people with their writing/Editing8. Brainstorming9. Thinking10. Analyzing11. Socks12. Pockets13. Hair things14. Chapstick (I'm not sure if I like it or if I just can't live without it. I think it's the latter.)15. Snickers bars16.

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-16557219698001150492009-12-31T00:00:00.002-05:002009-12-31T00:00:03.623-05:00

December 31, 2009. A day that will live in...disappointment. And, hopefully, growth.I remember the day I turned ten. My whole life prior, I told people I was a single digit years old. That magical single digit. I was one, I was two, I was three, four, five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Those years where only the children belong. I only had that for nine years. Then I left it behind forever. I turned

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-21313735107163250512009-12-29T22:32:00.005-05:002009-12-30T02:38:53.435-05:00

Everything we feel is born out of the perspective we come from. There is some truth in what everyone feels - even if different people feel contradictory things.When I was in high school, Stern was seen as the "frum" college choice. When I was in Stern, I met people who came from the opposite end - they came from worlds where Stern (and YU) was seen as a more "modern" college choice. The same

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-64436274932003382712009-12-28T20:47:00.004-05:002009-12-28T22:47:02.158-05:00

From a website, reiterating the words of a close friend:Sinclair Lewis was invited to talk to some students about the writer’s craft. He stood at the head of the class and asked, “How many of you here are really serious about being writers?” A sea of hands shot up. Lewis then asked, “Well, why aren't you all home writing?” And with that he walked out of the room.Goodbye for now!

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-84896810268753368772009-12-10T22:20:00.002-05:002009-12-10T22:33:44.887-05:00

I've always felt it was stupid to judge people based on where they went to school or similar things of the past. You never know what that person was like then, what the person is like now, etc. I know I don't like being seen in certain ways just because I've gone certain places in my past. I'm nothing like what one would associate with the places I've been.And yet I find myself doing it to others

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-40575944969311417312009-11-29T20:31:00.002-05:002009-11-29T20:34:45.436-05:00

I think this song is beautiful and really speaks to me.(And Glee does such a good job with its songs. Yes...I know this is an old song. I love this version, though.)

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-39010481892220118662009-11-24T22:56:00.000-05:002009-11-24T22:58:43.580-05:00

Is anyone still there? Reading? Listening? Thinking?Somehow it feels like the days of Erachet have passed. I don't know. Something just feels different. Maybe I'm not Erachet anymore. But how could that be?Are you all still here?

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-46836057144978820972009-11-11T02:05:00.004-05:002009-11-11T02:26:06.104-05:00

What I am about to write came from a specific conversation, but the ideas apply to life as a whole. Many times, people ask authors where they come up with their stories from, or they get impressed by a storyteller's imagination.Good writers make good stories, right?I'm not so sure about that.Life is what makes stories. Speakers and writers just take the time to notice them and tell them over. But

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-34037768086980355062009-10-28T16:42:00.006-04:002009-10-28T17:02:51.426-04:00

Respect is likeThe way flowers grow upTowards the rainAnd rain trickles upThrough the roots,The way cliffs of the ravineReflect each other's majestyIn their clear mirror facesSo that each mountain seemsA hundred miles deeper,The way birds sing to the cloudsIn their mellifluous warblesAnd clouds blanket the birdsIn their pillow-like cottons,The way the Earth circles the SunDeclaring all its brazen

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-29513584836231081362009-10-27T12:36:00.004-04:002009-10-27T14:21:09.194-04:00

- An Exercise In Expression From Once Upon A Time -I sit here and try to write a poem, and I wonder, as I am forced to begin - with only five minutes left to class - if I shouldn't have used "compose" instead of "write" because "compose" sounds stronger, more poetic, more like music, and yet more serious, and so less in the business of trampoline-ing me off to nonsensical heights. So I leave it

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-44898772512551295382009-10-25T22:51:00.003-04:002009-10-25T23:09:20.122-04:00

Change is difficult. It's like I have to reorient the different things and people in my life in order to both keep the old and make room for the new. This is both because of what is happening in my life and what is happening in the lives of others. Some of that reorienting can really be kind of wrenching. But I guess no matter what, certain things of the past will always remain with you (with me)

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-89698171466022542752009-10-16T14:41:00.003-04:002009-10-16T15:19:20.481-04:00

A long time ago, speech was the main mode of communication. Few people knew how to read, let alone write. Those who were literate were held in high esteem, and only works of great significance were actually written down. Everything else was oral.Even once most laypeople knew how to read and write, they wrote with care. Letters were often well thought-out chronicles of a person's life and thoughts

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-53190052213746554782009-10-15T15:30:00.003-04:002009-10-15T16:36:16.923-04:00

Sometimes a person might behave in ways he or she regrets - ways that are not representative of who he or she is. Sometimes a person portrays an image of him or herself to the world that is not who that person truly is. This can be frustrating. What's even more frustrating is letting such a thing bother you when really you ought to just go on behaving the way you feel you should. Eventually,

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-59721963297985445072009-10-13T02:07:00.005-04:002009-10-13T02:44:39.297-04:00

There was this moment of transition the minute I entered the airport. Only a few moments earlier, I was in a cab shooting along the Israeli highway; the grainy hills flashed by, swirled in brown, green, and white like a strange sort of souffle. Haven't you ever noticed that Israel has the same green, brown, and white colors everywhere? Except in the Old City where it's all stone, that is.What I

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-55526709349112975522009-10-10T17:50:00.002-04:002009-10-10T18:24:02.417-04:00

Although, sadly, Sukkos is over here in Israel, I am currently sitting in our Sukkah. Why? Because I'm super frum.Just kidding.It's because Mavis discovered that we can actually get internet in our Sukkah. It's not amazing internet, but it's enough that I can write the past few blog posts!Israel has been incredible - I love coming here. In the distance, I can still hear the music and singing from

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-48270974837160642602009-10-08T16:05:00.004-04:002009-10-08T17:15:08.214-04:00

There is a specific pasuk in Ashrei that I have always liked: Karov Hashem l'chol kor'av, l'chol asher yikreuhu b'emet. God is close to those who call Him, to all who call Him...in truth? Sincerely? Translations are always messy. But I always felt that this pasuk was saying, if you strive to be close to God, then God will be close to you. But how can you strive to be close to God?Tonight I went

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-48257224691795817822009-09-29T10:59:00.004-04:002009-09-29T11:25:34.781-04:00

[Side note: Apparently, this is a very tzioni blog. If you google "l'shana haba'ah b'Yerushalayim" (in all various spellings, and even leaving out the 'haba'ah' part, except if you write 'leshana'), this blog is the first hit that comes up!]We have a tradition in my house that each time we break our fast (except the daily morning breakfast), we have Entenmann's doughnuts (my favorite: a tie

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-11921571991029183242009-09-28T23:11:00.005-04:002009-09-29T00:45:09.866-04:00

"Thus far, we have spoken of Aseh toratekha keva in two senses: 1) making Torah primary in terms of values, and regarding our relation to Torah - and to God via Torah - as all-pervasive in our lives; 2) making it a fixed element of our day, with the attendant commitment and discipline. But there is yet another sense of keva which is implied in a baraita:'Aseh toratekha keva' - how so? This

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-76649459682067244812009-09-23T23:41:00.006-04:002009-09-23T23:58:41.538-04:00

Sometimes it's amazing how much you can learn just from watching your friends. It's not that you learn something so obscure - most things are rather obvious. But when I really feel that people I know are behaving in admirable ways, it makes me feel good: about them and about good habits I am picking up from them.I think in general, it is good to surround yourself with people who help you become a

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-77823934416023554002009-09-22T12:45:00.003-04:002009-09-22T13:27:36.420-04:00

The thunderous rumbles of the subway are much louder than the steady hum of the LIRR. This is why it is somewhat difficult to listen to an ipod while on the subway. But today I stuck the little green buds of my earphones into my ears and put my ipod on shuffle, figuring I would give it a try.As V'havienu's Hamalach Hagoel swam around my ears, creating a soundtrack in my head, the sudden sharp

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-43584803696054624112009-09-21T11:06:00.007-04:002009-09-21T19:14:58.372-04:00

Imagine what it would be like if you climbed to the top of Mt. Everest, looked out onto the expanse of the entire world, and shouted, "Forgive me, everyone!"We're in the aseres yemei teshuva right now: a period when we're supposed to be thinking seriously about ourselves, our attitudes, our behavior, and our actions. We have ten entire days devoted to doing teshuva. In addition to doing teshuva

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-50815834884381921212009-09-18T12:59:00.005-04:002009-09-18T13:19:44.147-04:00

"Has anyone been listening to me?" asks Ima, the menu for all our Rosh Hashana meals on a pad of paper in front of her at the table."Yes, yes," says Straight Man."Alright," Ima smirks. "What are we having tomorrow night for dinner?""Umm...challah, apples, honey...""New fruit!" Mavis exclaims. "What are we having for our new fruit?""I dunno..." Ima says teasingly."You know...what is it?""It's a

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-56341296252709977732009-09-17T09:20:00.007-04:002009-09-17T11:27:15.796-04:00

Birthdays.Oh yes, I have what to say about birthdays.Birthdays are those days when you wake up and you feel like the sun should be shining especially for you (and wearing sunglasses and a sunny grin, just like in the pictures) and perhaps a rainbow or two should shoot across the sky, so you can walk over them and have adventures.You feel like there should be a fireworks show, or at least some

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-2291483419136883102009-09-16T23:36:00.003-04:002009-09-17T00:12:29.210-04:00

SJ and I return rather late from our various sojourns of the day (classes, really). N is sprawled on the couch in our living room (living room? living area), our new floor lamp on so she can read."This apartment smells like cooking. Like peppers," says SJ, glancing curiously around for what might be causing the smell. "Did you make dinner, N?""Yeah," says N. "By the way, I love this floor lamp!""

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-6329181226670825722009-09-14T11:27:00.003-04:002009-09-14T11:42:20.455-04:00

Please God, allow me to have clarity in my thoughts and my emotions. Give me the wisdom to know what to do in a given situation and the strength to be able to do it. Please allow me the understanding to know what is right and what is wrong, even when the two are heavily clouded in shades of gray. Let me make good choices and give me the koach to be the best person I can possibly be.Please give me

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-58913780062664422762009-09-11T02:38:00.008-04:002009-09-12T20:47:00.217-04:00

Sometimes life is like a carousel. You hang on to your seat and get pulled round and round: a never ending cycle with the same scenes, the same faces flashing by. You become sick and dizzy of going round in so many circles, but you can't seem to let go of your seat. Your seat is what grounds you, what lets you know where you are. But it, too, is dragged in the cycle. Yet because it grounds you,

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-30260145656492564952009-09-09T10:10:00.003-04:002009-09-09T13:28:43.822-04:00

We sat, the four of us, on a yellow sheet in the middle of Fort Tryon Park. The field was filled with people on their day off from work: a father and son playing baseball with a plastic bat, a toddler grasping fiercely to his mother's finger as he took a few steps, a couple with an actual picnic basket romantically eating squid on crackers."Look!" hissed my roommate, pointing to the road behind

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-20595921003730901532009-09-08T12:09:00.005-04:002009-09-08T14:14:10.018-04:00

I have a job. It's an unpaid job so far, but that could always change with time. This job entails charging my computer, going to the park, finding somewhere nice to sit, and writing. What do I write? Well, anything I would like! I can write about people. I can write about nature. I can write about the boats on the Hudson river.You know why I don't title this post "first day of work?" Because this

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-49371105896749756772009-09-07T18:56:00.008-04:002009-09-08T01:13:55.266-04:00

How I Met My Wife Jack Winter, the New Yorker, July 25, 1994. It had been a rough day, so when I walked into the party I was very chalant, despite my efforts to appear gruntled and consolate. I was furling my weildy umbrella for the coat check when I saw her standing alone in a corner. She was a descript person, a woman in a state of total array. Her hair was kempt, her clothing shevelled,

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-25041239182887149782009-09-06T00:22:00.005-04:002009-09-06T02:00:31.896-04:00

I just spent my first Shabbos ever in the Heights.In some ways, I liked it much better than I thought I would. I was incredibly nervous to stay in for the first time - and alone. None of my apartment mates were in for Shabbos. After the last one left, I really felt emptiness settle in over the apartment. It wasn't like being alone at home - the Heights is still very new to me. It was like being

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-58162180322680887732009-09-04T09:14:00.008-04:002009-09-06T01:55:43.224-04:00

They say you should answer when opportunity knocks. They say locked doors lead to adventure. The girl stood in front of the locked door, raised her fist, and knocked. It was a white door with a gold lock. There was a square sticker on the front of the door with the number 07 on it. Behind the door, she could hear movement. Scuffling. Zippering. She knocked again - louder. The scuffling did not

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-71838961660185679762009-08-30T01:45:00.004-04:002009-08-30T02:20:20.136-04:00

Tonight my brother Mavis said something that really hit me. He said, "Tonight all four of us are sleeping here, but tomorrow night it's just me."It's true. Tonight is the last night for a while when all four kids are home at once. Tomorrow night I'll be in my apartment in the Heights, Straight Man will be in YU, and Trademark will be on the plane to her year in Israel.It's funny - when I went to

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-89032989385069538062009-08-28T11:35:00.004-04:002009-08-28T12:21:12.731-04:00

Sometimes you want to express something but you don't even know what it is you want to express. And by you, I mean me, of course. You just have this strong feeling and you wish you could put it into words and up on your blog for everyone to see, not because you want to divulge everything in your mind to the world but rather so others can nod and say, "Oh yeah, I know what she means" and then

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-63450904299858784882009-08-27T11:58:00.004-04:002009-08-27T12:42:01.320-04:00

Ezzie wrote a post nominating Bad4Shidduchim to go on the NBN Jblogger convention and blog about a family making Aliyah.I agree wholeheartedly with his decision and with the reasons for it. Not only will this be a great opportunity for Nefesh B'Nefesh to utilize a blogger who will bring their message out to a unique reader-base, it will also be an amazing bad-for-shidduchim-points-getting

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-48292310417050166772009-08-24T00:46:00.004-04:002009-08-24T01:06:16.003-04:00

Today we moved Straight Man into YU. As we waited for Straight Man to sign in and get his room and student ID, someone came over and put a bright red bracelet on my wrist that said, "Welcome To YU." It was the weirdest thing. I was being welcomed to YU as though I was a guest, except I was just a student in Stern three months ago.It's bizarre to me that YC and Stern's first day of school is this

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-43790177899135215392009-08-18T17:17:00.007-04:002009-08-18T18:39:35.109-04:00

I've heard of Alcoholics Anonymous. I've even heard of Over Eaters Anonymous. But there's another kind of abuse that I think requires its own Anonymous group. These abusers make every appreciator of writing cringe - or ought to. If they don't make you cringe, perhaps you should attend a meeting of the newly formed Sesquipedalians Anonymous.These are the Thesaurus Abusers. They write sentences

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-30333280528543126412009-08-17T22:44:00.002-04:002009-08-18T00:37:26.758-04:00

(Half a poem)Give me wings so I may flyTo Heights beyond Grand crossroadsAnd past the glaring lights of TimeIlluminating the sky.I lift-off like a child learns;My journey starts expressly with A.I climb high over the Central playground,Farther than the Carousel turns.Give me wings so I may flyTo Heights beside the riverAnd there I'll stand above the world:That world that peeks at me, so shy.

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-80660159775880115942009-08-17T11:43:00.003-04:002009-08-17T12:07:08.047-04:00

Life has a very forward motion feel. That's because time is always moving forward. The world is always spinning on its axis. Day is always turning into night, which then always turns back into day. People get older. They go through stage after stage after stage. Leaves turn colors on the trees. Snow, rain, burning hot sun.And yet you could be watching it all as a stagnant outsider. The world is

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-50342091644219238462009-08-06T08:16:00.003-04:002009-08-06T08:20:15.444-04:00

The pastel mists of morningPaint over yesterdayAnd golden globes of sunlightAllow for a new day....And I guess I have nothing else to say.Be yourself, make the most of today, and have a good morning. Rejoice - it's a new chance for everything.

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-24635748818286292832009-08-03T23:03:00.006-04:002009-08-04T00:05:47.782-04:00

Shortly after 9/11, I was awoken at around six in the morning by a gigantic BOOM! The house shook. I was disoriented. The first thought that came to my mind was, "This is it. We're being bombed. We're at war. Life as I know it is over."The thoughts came slowly, sluggishly, as though dragged forth from a dream. Somehow, I didn't really believe them. I wasn't even sure I believed that there had

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-73956152491288365612009-08-02T17:34:00.002-04:002009-08-02T17:35:28.248-04:00

I liked this song the first time I heard it.

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-22489779515829584332009-07-30T07:46:00.003-04:002009-07-30T07:50:48.303-04:00

For those interested, there is a live webcast of kinnos and shiurim given by Rabbi J. J. Schacter going on for a while today (I think it ends at 5:00 for mincha). You can also get there by the link on the YU website.Have an easy and meaningful fast, everyone.

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-10930114414952610812009-07-15T22:18:00.006-04:002009-07-15T23:17:51.021-04:00

This post is written in response to this one by Honestly Frum. The excerpts are two comments, the first by The Hedyot and the second by Garnel Ironheart."First you say: "...it is people like Rabbi Avi Weiss and Yitz Greenberg who are so out of the mainstream that soon their brand of Orthodoxy will not be recognizable."Then, you write, "The minute you tell me that my hashkafos are wrong and

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-9520303831363010332009-07-09T11:00:00.004-04:002009-07-09T12:54:21.569-04:00

"What is it that I like so much about the house you're building for me, Howard?""A house can have integrity, just like a person," said Roark, "and just as seldom." "In what way?" "Well, look at it. Every piece of it is there because the house needs it -- and for no other reason. You see it from here as it is inside. The rooms in which you'll live made the shape. The relation of masses was

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-48614478923795802272009-07-08T16:41:00.006-04:002009-07-08T16:51:25.732-04:00

[I'm working in July as a substitute assistant teacher in a pre-school where my mother does physical therapy. Today was my first day. With about an hour left to the day, the music teacher came.]Teacher: This is [my mom's name]'s daughter.Music Teacher: Oh...you're the writer?Me: Heh, yeah.Music Teacher: Yeah, I had a whole conversation with your mom after graduation.* You know, soon after that I

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-9528803045671531752009-07-07T11:10:00.005-04:002009-07-07T11:56:42.263-04:00

I wasn't sure how to begin this post, so I suppose I'll begin with myself. I don't like getting so personal, even though I have written some very personal things on here before, but I feel this is an important point to make.It's very difficult to listen to other people's critical opinions concerning myself. I'm sure this is true for most people. When someone voices a criticism, it's as though

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-19847024090792187172009-07-07T09:32:00.002-04:002009-07-07T11:05:12.996-04:00

I really like this song.

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-20316963672716201532009-07-01T21:11:00.004-04:002009-07-01T21:40:45.261-04:00

I forge my way through brambling woods, a path crunching under my footsteps. Each step leaves its own imprint, joining in the trail of footprints behind me. Ahead, there is no path, for I have not yet tread beyond where I stand right now.To say I don't know where the path leads is a misinterpretation of how I live. In my life, my footsteps create the path, like Hansel and Gretel dropping

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-5303501527540753402009-06-23T13:10:00.004-04:002009-06-23T13:37:34.340-04:00

The past few days have all qualified as "one of those days." Between having to take care of every aspect of my life (someone normal to date, for one thing, since I don't think I've ever had a good date and the last guy I went out with was a horror story. And a place to live this coming year. And a job so I can pay for the place I'm hopefully living in. Etc.) and having to take care of more

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-79028538622814433742009-06-19T11:58:00.001-04:002009-06-19T12:05:27.625-04:00

(Hat tip: Ezzie)"Lost time is never found again." --Benjamin Franklin"Time is the coin of your life. It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent. Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you." --Carl Sandburg"Until you value yourself, you won't value your time. Until you value your time, you will not do anything with it." --M. Scott Peck

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-8369041071824973292009-06-18T16:59:00.005-04:002009-06-18T17:03:47.305-04:00

I think this is the most extraordinary video. I absolutely love it. You should all watch it - it's well worth the twenty minutes. I believe we should really work towards a world where creativity is fostered in children and remains with them when they become adults.

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-63045388612097790032009-06-16T23:51:00.009-04:002009-06-17T00:41:49.215-04:00

One of the worst feelings is to be dissatisfied with yourself because of an opinion someone else professed about you. Opinions are always buzzing around. You may not even realize it, but every intonation of your voice when speaking about something, every little micro-expression that someone picks up gives off an opinion. Sometimes you may not even be thinking anything near what the person is

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-64521304229681657852009-06-15T01:22:00.004-04:002009-06-15T01:46:36.570-04:00

It feels like the end of this year signifies a step forward for most people I know. Of my own peer group, we've graduated college. A close friend of mine just got a job. Another close friend of mine is going to have her first baby. Two good friends are getting married this month. My brother is starting YU in the fall. And my sister graduated high school today.A huge mazel tov goes to Trademark

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-47174168261629226132009-06-14T13:40:00.000-04:002009-06-14T13:40:02.041-04:00

One of the first things you realize upon leaving school is that you suddenly need a place to live. Oh sure, you can live at home. But wouldn't that be, as they say in pre-teen movies, like, total and complete "social suicide?" [/uptalk]And that's only if you're lucky enough to live in New York. Some people really do need a place to live if they don't want to go back home to a different state.But

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-52991058038747647862009-06-12T02:39:00.004-04:002009-06-12T03:29:36.154-04:00

It's raining and thundering so hard, I can't sleep. Lightening keeps flashing through the blinds on my windows. Often when I sleep during a storm, the sounds and flashes from outside incorporate themselves in my dreams in some way, and that makes me reluctant to fall asleep.When I was younger, I used to imagine that thunder was the sound of a heavenly bowling alley God was making use of that

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-52718128132034916652009-06-08T07:55:00.002-04:002009-06-08T08:00:22.381-04:00

I would just like to say good morning to everyone! I got up at seven this morning and it feels as though I have entered back into the fold of those who get up at normal hours in the morning. We shall see how long it lasts - but the truth is, it is quite nice to really have a long day ahead of you without having to stay up past midnight. Hmmm...

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-39067619623526094942009-06-04T18:44:00.004-04:002009-06-04T22:38:00.199-04:00

[This post is somewhat immature, but I'd rather disclaim than take it down]In the summers, people often have these grand plans about how they're going to spend their time."I'm going to join a gym!""I'm going to learn a musical instrument!""I'm going to watch all ten seasons of Friends!"And so on.I also have grand plans for this summer. I want to read a number of books, including The Fountainhead

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-17353905042249984042009-05-27T22:02:00.008-04:002009-05-27T23:45:45.592-04:00

So here I am.I've stepped precariously from one storybook of life and into the pages of another; pages that are not yet filled in. All around me is blankness that I've somehow got to write, but I don't know where to even begin.I am a completely blank slate. I have no job. I am unattached to any male person. I am not in school for any further education. I am nowhere. I have the entire world in

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-76298880822444664512009-05-22T15:39:00.004-04:002009-05-22T16:51:34.585-04:00

I am officially done with school.Ever.(Or maybe not ever, but for now.)Last night was my last night as the Apple's roommate. In fact, it was my last night as part of TBA (what I nicknamed our apartment on my blog way back in the beginning of the year. I believe it stands for "The Best Apartment" - not very original, I know). But not even, because M.R. had already left.Last night, the Apple and I

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-62075585811789530692009-05-20T17:59:00.003-04:002009-05-20T18:19:32.343-04:00

Something's wrongIn this song'Cause it's ending on a low.But the score-sheetWith the beatPoints to high.I was sure--You concur?That the last note should be A.But they played--I'm dismayed--A low F.For so longHeard the dong--Notes I swear I used to know.But this feat--Incomplete--Makes me sigh.So I err,I aver.Things have not gone the right way.And this gradeNow waylaidMakes me deaf.

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-83973022632883817402009-05-19T17:02:00.005-04:002009-05-19T18:51:59.091-04:00

Some coast through college as though it is just a current tugging them along to graduation and then spitting them out into the "real world."Others endure college because it is a practical guide for skills they can later use to make money, but they are not interested in wasting their time with studying anything impractical in that venue.But there are also some who really use college as a time for

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-63114753891708031862009-05-15T10:43:00.005-04:002009-05-15T12:09:03.029-04:00

More than any other schooling experience, my time at Stern has been a real journey. Through the teachers, the classes, and friends both in and out of school, I have been molded, and perhaps molded myself, into a richer, more mature, more self-assured person.One of the first things I've had to learn was not to compare myself to anyone else. Someone else's success is not my failure. In fact, it has

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-58253363763802020802009-05-14T09:34:00.003-04:002009-05-22T15:44:46.801-04:00

In a few minutes, SJ, the Apple, and I are going to be leaving for our graduation.For the past few days, I've been thinking about what I would write on the day of graduation, and nothing too inspiring came to mind. I thought about writing a parody to the Les Miserables song, "One Day More" (as some of my friends and I used to do when there was one day left of something), but it seemed a bit silly

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2671016537527752068.post-19306224027422407632009-05-10T22:50:00.003-04:002009-05-10T23:59:01.646-04:00

Today, in honor of Mother's Day, we went to visit my grandparents. A large part of visiting my grandparents usually includes listening to my grandfather tell stories from his past. Today we got on the subject of his meeting my grandmother."And then we went on our first date...to Radio City Music Hall. They only played cinema back then.""Wait a minute," said my dad. "Radio City Music Hall? Wasn't

Erachethttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00660802321998349072noreply@blogger.com2