Love Thy

Warning
I am going to pretend this story happened to me although it did not.

Honour Thy
Today is a Jewish Holiday called Shavuot which commemorates getting the Ten Commandments. It is the same level of holiday as Passover but for some reason never took off much with North American Jews.
Here's why that was a bad call:

• Shavuot you eat ice cream, cheesebagels and blintzes, Passover you eat matza, horseradish and balls of boiled fish;
• Shavuot you give each other flowers and plants, Passover you have to scrub your house from head to toe;
• Shavuot is two and a half days, Passover lasts over a week; and
• Shavuot you get to stay up all night reading, Passover you have to spill your wine.

(As my mother used to say Smart Smart but Dumb Dumb)

Respect Thy

We are building a new deck (not really me I am pretending this is my story this is your last warning) in the back and these projects can be super loud and messy.

Workers want to come on the weekend but I say No because neighbours are knee deep in cheesecake

celebrating an important holiday and I don't want to disrespect them with loud deck noise.

Workers say I know that matza cracker crunches loud when you eat it but they will still be able to hear themselves spill wine. No no. I say. Not that holiday. This is the one where you exchange tulip bouquets and have giant banana splits. Um sure lady they say. We will halt our work mid deck-build but there is no guarantee that we can come back on Monday. You may have to lose a few days to this so called holiday.

I am annoyed but derive some satisfaction from the fact that I am honouring the Lord on this day by respecting my neighbours and hey maybe I'll make a key lime cheesecake later.

Thou Shalt Not

Shavuot weekend rolls around and I am in the kitchen melting butter to mix with graham cracker crumbs when I see three workers approaching through the back hedge. I guess they got their days confused. I slide open glass door to tell them - Oh. 

Those are not the same guys that are building my deck. These characters are headed straight to the religious neighbours. Are they looking for a scoop of Oreo banana? Are they hoping to read all night? Are they bringing flowers?

No, Nope and Uh-Uh. 

They are taking out their tool belts.

They are hammering and sawing and making lots of noise.

They are rebuilding the religious neighbour's deck. On the holiday. Amidst bites of cheesecake.

They are using a snowblower to clean up which is blowing inches of dust all over my yard, half-built deck, kitchen window.

Revelation 

1. Now I can see why this holiday never took off. Very noisy and too much dust.

2. Commandment should be re-written to read: Love thy neighbour as much or slightly less than you love yourself, and don't cancel your deck re-build just to make them happy because they wouldn't do the same for you.

It Happened to Me

Trying to make coffee/drinks date with New Writer Friend when it turns out we both like burritos and there is a burrito shop in my building.

In fact we both like de-constructed burrito bowls which we both order.

We are blah blah blahing away when it turns out there is a little rock in my deconstructed burrito bowl. It's gray and about the size of a tooth.

(It is not a tooth. I checked.)

I get up and bring the deconstructed burrito bowl which is in a mini tin foil pan but imagine a bowl back to the cash. I show the stone to the cashier who also made the food a few minutes earlier.

The only thing I can do for you is give you your money back. He says.

That's all I want. I say. I paid cash.

I remember. He says. And gives me back the nine dollars and forty something cents.

I take my deconstructed back to the table and resume eating.

Q & A:

Q: I always want to complain but some people worry that the chef will spit in their food. How do you avoid this?
A: In this case, the food was in my hands the whole time so there was no spitting risk. Also the kitchen is open so I could see if any bodily fluids were exchanged with my guac. If you are genuinely worried that someone is going to hoark in your food you have the following options:

• complain on the way out, after you've finished your meal;
• only eat at restaurants with open kitchens so that you can see what's what;
• only order things where spit would immediately show up, for example a steak, and avoid easy camouflage items like fettuccini alfredo; and/or
• never complain about anything and resign your self to suboptimal treatment for the rest of your days.

Q: How could you finish the dish once you found a rock in it?
A: I was hungry. Also, burrito. Truth is it looked like the kind of rock that you find when you rinse your rice out. For all of you non-rice rinsers, be careful this could happen to you. It looked more like something forgotten than something sinister but I still didn't feel I should have to pay for the meal.

Q: Were you embarrassed to complain in front of someone you barely know?
A: Maybe I should have been, in retrospect, but the truth is it didn't even occur to me. I saw the rock, stood up and dealt with the problem.

Q: You paid almost ten bucks for a burrito?
A: You know, I grapple with this issue a lot. There is controversy regarding privilege (eg, having a job, buying lunch, overspending). At the same time, there is controversy surrounding authenticity (eg, pretending that it's your last dime when in fact you have a whole stack of dimes.) I am not sure what to feel about this, other than to say that I have had varying income levels in my lifetime, I have paid more for a burrito and less for a pair of shoes, and if any of this is insulting or inappropriate I am sorry, that is not my intention.

I Accidentally Ate the Pizza of The Guy Sitting Next to Me

We (me and Husband) are at a Jazz concert/dinner event and are seated at a table for four, with two people we have never seen before in our lives.

At first I thought it was table for four like my favourite Chinese restaurant in Toronto where you may be seated with complete strangers and you ignore each other for the duration of the dinner.

Um, no. It's table for four like at a wedding where you are seated with complete strangers but you are expected to make polite conversation with each other for the duration of the dinner.

You are not expected to accidentally eat the guy next to you's pizza.  

(Oops)

It is an intimate little café that appears marginally overwhelmed by the quantity of dinner orders that need fulfillment at the same time.

I order the veggie flatbread pizza with the following in mind:

• I see it walk by and it looks fine
• If the kitchen runs out of oven space they can pop it into the toaster oven
• Even if the pizza comes out cold it will still be pizza
• Veggies cancel out the cheese and bread (duh)

Server comes to the table with curry tofu salad for one of the strangers at our table. 

Server then comes directly to me and hands me a pizza.

The pizza has only a few stray peppers on it.

Is this the veggie pizza? I ask.

Yes. Server says.

I take a bite of the pizza. The peppers are hot jalapeño numbers. 

I say to Husband. I don't remember there being hot peppers on my pizza. I guess they ran out of mushroom pepper onion and someone in the back said Hey Let's Open A Jar A These.

Reasons why I decide not to complain effectively at this moment:

• Kitchen is trying their best and I don't want to make matters worse for them
• I'm there for the music not the food 
• Husband planned this entire date night and am having a good time 
• Don't want to cause a scene
• Pizza is still pizza.

Guy sitting next to me says. If you don't like Your Pizza, I can give you some of My Pizza when it comes.

Not only are there jalapeño peppers on the pizza but also some hot red chili numbers.

I'm fine though. It's still pizza.

Approximately twenty three minutes elapse during which Husband receives and eats his burger, Lady finishes her curried tofu and Guy next to me waits for his pizza.

Different Server then comes to the table. She is holding a veggie pizza. Piled high with mushrooms. Yellow peppers. Diced onions. 

Tries to serve it to me, but I am sitting in front of a plate of crusts.

Different Server says. This is Your Pizza.

I look under the table to see if there is a trap door that will allow me to escape with minimum embarrassment.

There is not.

Guy next to me says. I think you ate my pizza by mistake. 

(Looks like it)

He was hoping for some hot peppers and is not that excited by the crushed mushrooms.

Don't worry. He says. I will go to the kitchen and take care of this.

Which he did.

But I was still SO EMBARRASSED.

Lessons Learned:

1. If you don't complain effectively you might end up accidentally eating your neighbour's pizza
2. Even people who make their living complaining sometimes take shortcuts
3. The shortcuts usually backfire so prob better to just politely say "I don't think this is the pizza I ordered"
4. Worst part was when the Guy said What do you Write About and I said Complaining and he said Pretty Ironic.
5. Thankfully we were seated with friendly and understanding people even if we don't share their taste in pizza

What's New With Me

1. Last Monday was a holiday here so I didn't post, thank you for your understanding.

2. Here's a link to the piece I wrote for Bliss Magazine about how complaining led me to find my bliss.

3. I also presented at the Jewish Book Council last week, which means I had one minute and fifty eight seconds to present my 256 page book. Click here to read about the JBC.  I met representatives from Jewish communities across North America which was amazing, and also got to rub shoulders with some impressive authors and have been ordering books non-stop since I left.

4. People have already started booking me for Fall 2019 speaking engagements which is fantastic and let's face it a big relief. If you are interested in learning about how to be a better complainer, how to deal with people complaining to you, or how to teach your kids to complain for themselves, please let me know and I would be delighted to share some of my insights with you.

Mother's Day - Do You Sense a Theme

Mother's Day 2018:

Wrote one of my most popular posts ever - about talking to your kids about sex.  If you missed it, check it out here. 

Mother's Day 2019, Part One:

Send husband link to Jewish film festival at local theatre and add the tag line "Mother's Day idea?"

Husband writes back "Done."

"Done? I was half-joking I can't believe you clicked! How many tickets did you get?"

He looks at me like I am bananas. I mean, it's an email so I don't know that for sure. But I sense it.

"Five." (There are five people in our family.)

"We're bringing the kids?" To a documentary. Jewish film festival.  At 2pm. On what might be a beautiful sunny day in May. 

Yikes. We really are pulling the Mother's Day card.

Mother's Day 2019, Part Two:

Friday before Mother's Day go out for long overdue lunch with writer friend who writes borderline erotica romance. Her novels are set in Montreal and the third book in her trilogy is coming out in June, called Swap Club 3, check out her and the books here.

We exchange Mother's Day plans.

She is going for brunch at her mom's house. Vanilla.

My Sunday is a little unexpected. Documentary, public, daylight, teenagers.

"You have to blog about this," she says. "Let's think of a title."

Mother's Day 2019, Minutes Before Departure:

"Are you actually serious? We're all going to this? I'm not going."

"I can't go Sunday. I have to work."

"We're walking there? I'm not walking there. Can't we take the car?"

Mother's Day 2019, Movie Title:

Ask Dr. Ruth: Size Doesn't Matter

Lessons Learned:

1. Even when Mother's Day is fun and goes smoothly there are going to be people who sleep through the movie
2. Jewish Film Festival has come a long way since Yentl
3. If you have your children captive on Mother's Day, use the time to promote your own agenda
4. Dr. Ruth is as captivating at 90 as she was at 65. Highly recommend the movie.

Where's the Beef Might Be A Chicken Salad.

You know how I have a book coming out in Oct?

And

You know how it's called "I Wanted Fries With That: How to Ask for What You Want and Get What You Need"?

And

You know how the title is loosely based on the McDonald's slogan "Do You Want Fries With That?"

And

You know that I live in Montreal which is in Quebec which is mainly French?

Well, Listen To This.

Guess what they were saying in Quebec while the rest of us were saying "Do You Want Fries With That?"

They were saying:

"Un chausson avec ça?" which loosely translates to "Would you like a hand held apple pie with that?"

Observations
1. Luckily poutine was not invented at McDonald's. We would be stuck with apple pie smothered in gravy and cheese.

2. You would think that French fries would be all the rage in a province where almost every one speaks French but instead Quebec was into Apple Pie bringing into question the expression "As American as  --"

3. Hang on, Quebec has one word which means hand-held-apple-pie?

4. You can translate something literally but the principle can still be lost.

5. If my book ends up getting translated I'm going to need some new emojis.