Tag Archives: being jewish

What I Am

Our building busybody (the same lady who commented inappropriately on my ring, and assumed that because I am a tutor, I am a dog walker) is at it again.

Busybody: “So, how’s married life? Have you changed your last name yet?”

Me: “It’s great! No, I haven’t. I’m not sure it’s necessary to legally change it.”

Busybody: “Oh my god really? I couldn’t WAIT to change my name.”

Me: “Ok. Well, to each her own! I mean I’ll informally use Eric’s last name, I’m happy for people to call me Emily Taylor, and to introduce myself that way. Just don’t see the need to go through a legal process. But we’ll see, maybe one day.”

Busybody: “His last name is Taylor? What’s yours?”

Me: “Lerman.”

Busybody: “Oh, honey. You should change it. Taylor is a great last name– then people won’t know what you are.”

Me (silent, confused pause): “You mean…a Jew?”

Busybody: “Yeah.”

Me: (blank stare)

Busybody: “Sometimes it’s just better, in certain circumstances, that people don’t know, you know?”

Me: “No.”

So now I’m keeping Lerman just to spite you.

Bitch.

img_1179-8

Something’s in there all right

I’m in the elevator and an elderly lady walks in…

Lady (after staring at me for 10 seconds): “Are you pregnant?”
Me: “No. I am not. And honestly, this is the second time this has happened to me in an elevator and I don’t understand why.”
Lady: “It’s the way you’re holding your stomach. Makes it seem like something’s in there.”
Me: “Yeah, there is. Dairy. I’m Jewish.”
Lady: “Ah. Enough said.”

img_1179-1

“Clue”– Jewish Mom Version

There was a shooting at Montgomery Mall, which is less than 5 minutes from my parents’ house. Nobody had heard from Mom.

What ensued was the world’s jewiest game of Clue.

452b0bdb-c7a7-48c8-b2c0-d3b318fc81b0.png

 

Then, hours later, Mom, unable to figure out the tricky mechanics of group texting (she has an iPhone), sent this to just Jeremy:

wheresmom2.jpg

 

 

Case closed.

Not only is Mom alive, she lives a way better life than the rest of us.

 

A Lesson In Self Acceptance

When I was 15 years old, I got a nose job.

Why, you ask, would I purposely subject myself to surgery and extreme pain simply to look better?

Because my insecure, self-conscious teenage self hated my oversized nose, and I truly believed that most people in this world judge by appearances. Now that I’m older, wiser, and have had a myriad of experiences with all kinds of people, I obviously see the major flaw in that kind of naive thinking.

Most people do NOT judge by appearances.

ALL people do.

Thank god I got that shit fixed.

IMG_1260-0