Shout out to LZ one of my Top 25 Jews reading all the way from the Holy Land.
I needed a giggle so I found these jokes. I'll take these over blond jokes anyday. All we ever hear are Jewish jokes, so here are some gentile jokes.
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A gentile goes into a clothing store and says, "This is a very fine jacket. How much is it?"
The salesman says, "It's $500."
The gentile says, "OK, I'll take it."
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Two gentiles meet on the street. The first one says, "You own your own business, don't you? How's it going?"
The other gentile says, "Just great! Thanks for asking!"
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Two gentile mothers meet on the street and start talking about children. Gentile mother 1 (said with pride): "My son is a construction worker!"
Gentile mother 2 (said with more pride): "My son is a truck driver!"
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A man calls his mother and says, "Mother, I know you're expecting me for dinner this evening, but something important has come up and I can't make it."
His mother says, "OK."
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A gentile couple goes to a nice restaurant. The man says: "I'll have the steak and a baked potato, and my wife will have the julienne salad with house dressing. We'll both have coffee."
The waiter asks, "How would you like your steak and salad prepared?"
The man says," I'd like the steak medium...... the salad is fine as is."
The waiter says, "Thank you."
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A gentile man calls his elderly mother. He asks, "Mom, how are you feeling? Do you need anything?"
She says, "I'm feeling fine, and I don't need anything. Thanks for calling."
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Now you know why there are no gentile jokes.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
I wish I thought of this...
After my 7 hour ER wait, this would have come in handy:
The other day, I had to go to the emergency room.
After sitting there for 4 hours, I went next door to an Army-Navy store and bought a couple of patches and attached one to each shoulder.
It was amazing how many people left as I walked back in.
I guess they suddenly decided they weren't that sick after all.
Here is the patch that you can sew on your clothing if you are in need of quicker emergency service.
The other day, I had to go to the emergency room.
After sitting there for 4 hours, I went next door to an Army-Navy store and bought a couple of patches and attached one to each shoulder.
It was amazing how many people left as I walked back in.
I guess they suddenly decided they weren't that sick after all.
Here is the patch that you can sew on your clothing if you are in need of quicker emergency service.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Reasons my life Sucks....Part 2
So, just hours after Part 1 of this series on why my life sucks, I was on my way to synagogue, late of course, for Friday night Shabbat services. Being in a hurry I was rushing down the 100+ steps that connect Fort Washington Ave to Overlook Terrace. As I neared the second to last flight of steps I saw a bunch of neighborhood kids with their little mini-gang which consists of about 8 tiny Puerto Rican kids who enjoy wreaking havoc in the neighborhood. Yesterday they chose to steal some kids tricycle and were taking turns throwing it down the flights of stairs to see which 9-year-old could throw it furthest. I, trying to avoid being smacked by the flying tricycle, went to move to the other side of the stairs. As I did my ankle turned in my cute leather sandals and I heard a faint pop sound. I tried taking a step and realizd something was seriously amiss. The little kids surrounded me asking, "maam, are you okay?" "can we do anything?" So much for them trying to act all tough. They're still nice kids. I guess they'll have to wait until they are all sent to prison at 16 for Grand Theft Auto before they toughen up.
So I hobbled, painfully, the last block to get to shul. I knew once I got there I'd have help. Where better to find a doctor than a synagogue? I hoped Nurse Practitionor DT would be there but she wasn't. Thank goodness Estie (I'll share the name since she deserves full props) saw me and follwed me outside. She quickly hastened a friend of mine MA who is a member of Hatzolah. According to Wikipedia Hatzolah means "rescue" or "relief" in Hebrew and is a volunteer Emergency medical service (EMS) organization functioning in Israel and in many Orthodox Jewish neighborhoods in major cities of the United States, as well as in Australia, South Africa, Mexico, Belgium, Switzerland, Canada, Russia, and the United Kingdom. Hatzolah specializes in quick first response, aiming to have trained medical volunteers at the scene of an emergency call as quickly as possible. Plus, their help is free of charge. Woohoo! Another Hatzolah member YB who saw MA leave came out as well. They surmised that it most likely was a broken bone in my foot. It was starting to swell and just looked plain gross. They suggested taking me to the hospital. I was bummed out because I had planned to go to LZ for dinner and as mentioned before, she is a kick tush cook. I had been looking forward. But I couldn't walk on it so the hospital was the only option. According to Jewish law one is not supposed to drive a car on Shabbos. But if a person's life is at risk, or I learned, if a person is unable to walk, this is justification for someone to be driven to the hospital. YB ran to get the "bus" and we waited in shul for him to bring it. I prayed he would hurry as to avoid the embarrassment of everyone seeing me on a stretcher. But he arrived back just as everyone was exiting the sanctuary. So everyone was there to watch my fight with Hatzolah as I tried to convince them to let me walk out on my own. I lost and was loaded up onto the stretcher. Thank goodness I was wearing a longer skirt or everyone would have been looking up it. Estie graciously offered to accompany me which is great because although I was taking the break well, I was terrorized to be alone allnight in the ER. YB got called away to another trauma and another Hatzolah dude AF took over the driving of the ambulance. We got to Columbia-Presbyterian on 168th in no time and I was wheeled into the emergency room. Fact: Riding in an ambulance gets you places really fast. Ficion: Arriving in an ambulance does not get you faster treatment.
Estie and I were left in the ER by our excellent volunteer EMT's MA and AF at about 9:30. I immediately began to put on a show for all the other ER patients. We were situated in the section directly in front of Section D, the infamous Psych area. Who needs a TV when you have a woman with a mullet brought in with no apparent injuries who insists her name is John? Good times. So I was commentating for those lucky enough to have beds near mine. I was in the hallway next to the nurse's station since there were no available curtained areas. Not a prob, we got to listen to all the crazy stories from the nurses and doctors. After one dude was wheeled in after an obvious overdose (he was convulsing and snoring louder than I've ever heard before) we heard one nurse whisper to another "yeah he's taken everything tonight, E, crack, and plenty more". NYC. Good times.
Around 11:30 I had to pee. Couldn't just get up so I asked the doctor dude what I should do. He was like well what did the doctor tell you. I was like, um, no one has touched my foot yet. So he came over and felt my foot and verifed that it was indeed broken. So he told me he'd send a nurse over to help me get to a bathroom. No one came. Finally I asked this chick nurse to help me get to the bathroom and she looked all pissed and was like, so just go. I was like the doctor said I can't walk on it. So she pushed me AND my bed to the bathroom. Thanks for that. Estie who was on yet another search to find one of the 5 loose chairs in the ER saw me and came running. She quickly grabbed some gloves and cleaned the pee off the seat for me. Thanks buddy. I peed into a cup while I was in there because they wanted proof I wasn't pregnant before sending me to X Ray. Results were negative. What a surprise.
Finally I met my doc. She was sooooo awesome. I told Estie, she reminded me of the doctor from Father of the Bride 2. My female readers will know what I'm talking about. Of all the doctors we watched in the ER that night, Dr. NB was the only one who actually spoke and spent time with her patients. She wasn't the usual robotic ER doc. The best example is when Mullet lady John was being released, she let her give her a hug. I would have ran from mullet lady, if I didn't have a broken foot. The bitchy nurse from the bathroom incident was then assigned to me and took me to X-Ray bumping me and my bed into each doorway we went through. X-Ray confirmed the break known as a Jone's Fracture of the 5th Metatarsal. Dr. NB even pointed it out for us on the computer screen. Here's my X-ray. I circled the fracture.
Estie and I actually cheered the news because it finally justified us being in the ER for 4 hours. Bitchy nurse finally got around to bringing me my Vicodin over an hour after the doc asked her to. Then she made jokes asking me how high I was the rest of the night. It took Dr. NB another hour or so to get back to me to wrap my cast since, you know, she was the only doc there actually "caring" for patients. When that was finished bitchy nurse came back with my crutches and of course made fun of my height since she was taller and made jokes as she tried to show me how to use crutches. She couldn't help but do that. She's a bitch.
Estie and I finally left the hospital and had a car bring us back to her place. We went to sleep around 4:30 am. We were in the hospital over 7 hours. As I kept reiterating all night long, it sucked. We were awoken around noon by MA and YB from Hatzolah checking to make sure everything turned out well. Also LZ and her friend stopped by. I had MA run by LZ's meal last night to make sure she saved me some leftovers. She heated some up for lunch today. LZ food at last. Estie, LZ, and my buddy NW hung out with me while I ate and we all went to take naps. I slept all day long because of the Vicodin and trauma and got a lift back to my apt tonight.
Estie and I made lots of friends in the ER. Old Jewish guy who asked me if I prayed for him when he saw I had brought a prayerbook with me. Old dude with the cane who agreed with me when I commented that the little cups of cranberry juice should come with little bottles of vodka. Old smelly dude with walker who didn't really do much, but he was next to us, so we smelled him. And our favorites, the Spanish lady who helped look out for Estie's chair when she had to get up and our friend Ysidro who broke his finger and was getting casted by Dr. NB alongside us. We chatted until he was discharged.
I give full props and shout outs to all who stopped by to visit (or tried to, thanks ZK and TI). And especially to Estie. The 20 minutes or so that she was kicked out of the ER when they were bringing in a crazy person to the Psycho area was the hardest I spent there. Without anything to do or anyone to talk to I caught myself breaking down and tearing up. The ER is no place to go alone, or without a good book. I'm not so sure I'm a big enough person to have done that for someone else. Her kindness really got me through the night. I owe her some chopped liver. And I want to write a thank you letter to Dr. NB. She was Canadian, but I'll let that slide. She was awesome. Peace out!
So I hobbled, painfully, the last block to get to shul. I knew once I got there I'd have help. Where better to find a doctor than a synagogue? I hoped Nurse Practitionor DT would be there but she wasn't. Thank goodness Estie (I'll share the name since she deserves full props) saw me and follwed me outside. She quickly hastened a friend of mine MA who is a member of Hatzolah. According to Wikipedia Hatzolah means "rescue" or "relief" in Hebrew and is a volunteer Emergency medical service (EMS) organization functioning in Israel and in many Orthodox Jewish neighborhoods in major cities of the United States, as well as in Australia, South Africa, Mexico, Belgium, Switzerland, Canada, Russia, and the United Kingdom. Hatzolah specializes in quick first response, aiming to have trained medical volunteers at the scene of an emergency call as quickly as possible. Plus, their help is free of charge. Woohoo! Another Hatzolah member YB who saw MA leave came out as well. They surmised that it most likely was a broken bone in my foot. It was starting to swell and just looked plain gross. They suggested taking me to the hospital. I was bummed out because I had planned to go to LZ for dinner and as mentioned before, she is a kick tush cook. I had been looking forward. But I couldn't walk on it so the hospital was the only option. According to Jewish law one is not supposed to drive a car on Shabbos. But if a person's life is at risk, or I learned, if a person is unable to walk, this is justification for someone to be driven to the hospital. YB ran to get the "bus" and we waited in shul for him to bring it. I prayed he would hurry as to avoid the embarrassment of everyone seeing me on a stretcher. But he arrived back just as everyone was exiting the sanctuary. So everyone was there to watch my fight with Hatzolah as I tried to convince them to let me walk out on my own. I lost and was loaded up onto the stretcher. Thank goodness I was wearing a longer skirt or everyone would have been looking up it. Estie graciously offered to accompany me which is great because although I was taking the break well, I was terrorized to be alone allnight in the ER. YB got called away to another trauma and another Hatzolah dude AF took over the driving of the ambulance. We got to Columbia-Presbyterian on 168th in no time and I was wheeled into the emergency room. Fact: Riding in an ambulance gets you places really fast. Ficion: Arriving in an ambulance does not get you faster treatment.
Estie and I were left in the ER by our excellent volunteer EMT's MA and AF at about 9:30. I immediately began to put on a show for all the other ER patients. We were situated in the section directly in front of Section D, the infamous Psych area. Who needs a TV when you have a woman with a mullet brought in with no apparent injuries who insists her name is John? Good times. So I was commentating for those lucky enough to have beds near mine. I was in the hallway next to the nurse's station since there were no available curtained areas. Not a prob, we got to listen to all the crazy stories from the nurses and doctors. After one dude was wheeled in after an obvious overdose (he was convulsing and snoring louder than I've ever heard before) we heard one nurse whisper to another "yeah he's taken everything tonight, E, crack, and plenty more". NYC. Good times.
Around 11:30 I had to pee. Couldn't just get up so I asked the doctor dude what I should do. He was like well what did the doctor tell you. I was like, um, no one has touched my foot yet. So he came over and felt my foot and verifed that it was indeed broken. So he told me he'd send a nurse over to help me get to a bathroom. No one came. Finally I asked this chick nurse to help me get to the bathroom and she looked all pissed and was like, so just go. I was like the doctor said I can't walk on it. So she pushed me AND my bed to the bathroom. Thanks for that. Estie who was on yet another search to find one of the 5 loose chairs in the ER saw me and came running. She quickly grabbed some gloves and cleaned the pee off the seat for me. Thanks buddy. I peed into a cup while I was in there because they wanted proof I wasn't pregnant before sending me to X Ray. Results were negative. What a surprise.
Finally I met my doc. She was sooooo awesome. I told Estie, she reminded me of the doctor from Father of the Bride 2. My female readers will know what I'm talking about. Of all the doctors we watched in the ER that night, Dr. NB was the only one who actually spoke and spent time with her patients. She wasn't the usual robotic ER doc. The best example is when Mullet lady John was being released, she let her give her a hug. I would have ran from mullet lady, if I didn't have a broken foot. The bitchy nurse from the bathroom incident was then assigned to me and took me to X-Ray bumping me and my bed into each doorway we went through. X-Ray confirmed the break known as a Jone's Fracture of the 5th Metatarsal. Dr. NB even pointed it out for us on the computer screen. Here's my X-ray. I circled the fracture.
Estie and I actually cheered the news because it finally justified us being in the ER for 4 hours. Bitchy nurse finally got around to bringing me my Vicodin over an hour after the doc asked her to. Then she made jokes asking me how high I was the rest of the night. It took Dr. NB another hour or so to get back to me to wrap my cast since, you know, she was the only doc there actually "caring" for patients. When that was finished bitchy nurse came back with my crutches and of course made fun of my height since she was taller and made jokes as she tried to show me how to use crutches. She couldn't help but do that. She's a bitch.
Estie and I finally left the hospital and had a car bring us back to her place. We went to sleep around 4:30 am. We were in the hospital over 7 hours. As I kept reiterating all night long, it sucked. We were awoken around noon by MA and YB from Hatzolah checking to make sure everything turned out well. Also LZ and her friend stopped by. I had MA run by LZ's meal last night to make sure she saved me some leftovers. She heated some up for lunch today. LZ food at last. Estie, LZ, and my buddy NW hung out with me while I ate and we all went to take naps. I slept all day long because of the Vicodin and trauma and got a lift back to my apt tonight.
Estie and I made lots of friends in the ER. Old Jewish guy who asked me if I prayed for him when he saw I had brought a prayerbook with me. Old dude with the cane who agreed with me when I commented that the little cups of cranberry juice should come with little bottles of vodka. Old smelly dude with walker who didn't really do much, but he was next to us, so we smelled him. And our favorites, the Spanish lady who helped look out for Estie's chair when she had to get up and our friend Ysidro who broke his finger and was getting casted by Dr. NB alongside us. We chatted until he was discharged.
I give full props and shout outs to all who stopped by to visit (or tried to, thanks ZK and TI). And especially to Estie. The 20 minutes or so that she was kicked out of the ER when they were bringing in a crazy person to the Psycho area was the hardest I spent there. Without anything to do or anyone to talk to I caught myself breaking down and tearing up. The ER is no place to go alone, or without a good book. I'm not so sure I'm a big enough person to have done that for someone else. Her kindness really got me through the night. I owe her some chopped liver. And I want to write a thank you letter to Dr. NB. She was Canadian, but I'll let that slide. She was awesome. Peace out!
Friday, June 16, 2006
Reasons my life sucks
The last couple of days have totally sucked for me. I know what you're thinking, but its not all because of the closure of Megabite. Actually this month in general has pretty much blown but it has had a highlight or two, so other then those, its been pretty sucky.
Oh where to begin. How about June 1st. My new subletter had planned to move in her stuff before Shavuous which also coincided with the start of June. My roommate AS who just moved out since she got married and became AD made sure to have everything cleared out of the room to make sure this girl was able to move in on time. Needless to say, she didn't show. I figured she was busy prepping for the holiday and didn't have a chance to move before. It wasn't until the 5th that I started to go ape shit. She didn't return my calls or emails and then finally sent me an email claiming that I never officially gave her a go ahead on the apartment so thats why she never showed. I don't recall that being the case. I think it was just the opposite. On recall making the point that unless she heard otherwise from me that it was a go. On top of it all, in Jewish law a verbal agreement is considered as good as a written one. Even though she never signed anything she should be halachically responsible. End result is that my entire June paycheck is going toward my rent. So to all my "friends" who try to guilt me into coming to all their events that they are sponsoring, leave me the hell alone unless you are paying for me to get in. I'm not a trust fund kid. I work in kiruv.
Work has been overwhelming, but when isn't it? And I'm not stupid enough to rant about anything like that on a forum like this one. Did you read the article in the NY Times about recruiters checking potential employees' MySpace sites and finding out tons of dirt? Check it out: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/11/us/11recruit.html. Some kids are idiots. My MySpace page is totally clean. Hell, my parents read it. I love you dear blog, but not enough to be fired over. I can't afford my rent as is. Maybe I should just move back to Cali. I know a lot more people there that would be happy to see me come than those here who would be disappointed if I leave. Sad but true. I have to beg people to find a fricken Shabbos meal. Thats proposterous. Everyone should want a piece of Susanne Goldstone.
Last night I went to play a softball game with this girl's team. She told me they play in Harlem but not to worry, the field is just as I step off of the A train. I was like thats fine. I can hold my own. No idiot will mess with a chick like me carrying a softball bat bag. Granted, I left my bat at home yesterday...but they didn't know it. Turns out it wasn't right off of the A train. I stopped people on the street asking where the ballfields are. Finally a guy told me who knew the fields I was talking about. They are on 145th and Lenox. Um, I don't know about you but I read the NY Times. And I hear about many a murder that takes place on 145th St and Lenox in Harlem. Was not excited about this. Not only that but Lenox was like 6 LONG avenue blocks from where I was. And as the fields finally came into view, sure enough, the number 3 train was right next to them, not the A train. I got to the game 40 minutes late and as soon as I walked on to the field I was told to bat. Hell, I still had a skirt on. I was in my work clothes. I grounded into a fielder's choice (for you non-baseball people, not a very impressive play). The game got busted up after an hour when the lone white guy on my team got in a fight with the umpire and he called the game. It was nearing 8 pm and sundown at this point so I got my ass out of the neighborhood clutching my pepper spray in my hand armed and ready.
And to top off the week, this morning I received an email from Saw You At Sinai, a Orthodox Jewish dating site. My old roommate from college is a matchmaker on the site and had sent me a profile of a guy to look at. He is SSOOOOO not for me. He was a big guy with a big beard and no hair on his head. Seriously, the dude looked like a lumberjack. And I am not so into looks. I love the Pillsbury Doughboy look in my Jew Boys. But this was ridiculous. Seriously. Is this what I destined for? I'm not a 10, but seriously, don't be sending me 3s.
So thats where I'm at. Things are looking up in the couple hours it took me to finish this post. A) my new replacement iPod was delivered so I can listen to my beloved Dixie Chicks on the train once again. b"H. B) I finally scored a pity invite for my Shabbos meals. C) I'm leaving work and have approximately 67 hours to my leisure. Yay. Shabbat Shalom.
Oh where to begin. How about June 1st. My new subletter had planned to move in her stuff before Shavuous which also coincided with the start of June. My roommate AS who just moved out since she got married and became AD made sure to have everything cleared out of the room to make sure this girl was able to move in on time. Needless to say, she didn't show. I figured she was busy prepping for the holiday and didn't have a chance to move before. It wasn't until the 5th that I started to go ape shit. She didn't return my calls or emails and then finally sent me an email claiming that I never officially gave her a go ahead on the apartment so thats why she never showed. I don't recall that being the case. I think it was just the opposite. On recall making the point that unless she heard otherwise from me that it was a go. On top of it all, in Jewish law a verbal agreement is considered as good as a written one. Even though she never signed anything she should be halachically responsible. End result is that my entire June paycheck is going toward my rent. So to all my "friends" who try to guilt me into coming to all their events that they are sponsoring, leave me the hell alone unless you are paying for me to get in. I'm not a trust fund kid. I work in kiruv.
Work has been overwhelming, but when isn't it? And I'm not stupid enough to rant about anything like that on a forum like this one. Did you read the article in the NY Times about recruiters checking potential employees' MySpace sites and finding out tons of dirt? Check it out: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/11/us/11recruit.html. Some kids are idiots. My MySpace page is totally clean. Hell, my parents read it. I love you dear blog, but not enough to be fired over. I can't afford my rent as is. Maybe I should just move back to Cali. I know a lot more people there that would be happy to see me come than those here who would be disappointed if I leave. Sad but true. I have to beg people to find a fricken Shabbos meal. Thats proposterous. Everyone should want a piece of Susanne Goldstone.
Last night I went to play a softball game with this girl's team. She told me they play in Harlem but not to worry, the field is just as I step off of the A train. I was like thats fine. I can hold my own. No idiot will mess with a chick like me carrying a softball bat bag. Granted, I left my bat at home yesterday...but they didn't know it. Turns out it wasn't right off of the A train. I stopped people on the street asking where the ballfields are. Finally a guy told me who knew the fields I was talking about. They are on 145th and Lenox. Um, I don't know about you but I read the NY Times. And I hear about many a murder that takes place on 145th St and Lenox in Harlem. Was not excited about this. Not only that but Lenox was like 6 LONG avenue blocks from where I was. And as the fields finally came into view, sure enough, the number 3 train was right next to them, not the A train. I got to the game 40 minutes late and as soon as I walked on to the field I was told to bat. Hell, I still had a skirt on. I was in my work clothes. I grounded into a fielder's choice (for you non-baseball people, not a very impressive play). The game got busted up after an hour when the lone white guy on my team got in a fight with the umpire and he called the game. It was nearing 8 pm and sundown at this point so I got my ass out of the neighborhood clutching my pepper spray in my hand armed and ready.
And to top off the week, this morning I received an email from Saw You At Sinai, a Orthodox Jewish dating site. My old roommate from college is a matchmaker on the site and had sent me a profile of a guy to look at. He is SSOOOOO not for me. He was a big guy with a big beard and no hair on his head. Seriously, the dude looked like a lumberjack. And I am not so into looks. I love the Pillsbury Doughboy look in my Jew Boys. But this was ridiculous. Seriously. Is this what I destined for? I'm not a 10, but seriously, don't be sending me 3s.
So thats where I'm at. Things are looking up in the couple hours it took me to finish this post. A) my new replacement iPod was delivered so I can listen to my beloved Dixie Chicks on the train once again. b"H. B) I finally scored a pity invite for my Shabbos meals. C) I'm leaving work and have approximately 67 hours to my leisure. Yay. Shabbat Shalom.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Happy 6/13
Happy 6/13 everyone! 613 is the number or commandments listed in the Torah. Today's date should remind us all to do more mitzvos and good deeds to help bring the coming of Moshiach speedily in our days. And with it, the return of Megabite. Amen.
Thursday, June 08, 2006
Where were you when the world stopped turning?
I hope you are sitting. I hope you have a box of kleenex nearby. I received the following email yesterday afternoon from my buddy AW:
"Megabite is becoming not kosher as of Wednesday next week…did you hear? The owner told me today…soooo sad"
For those of you who know me, Megabite is a very important part of my life. Megabite happens to be like the best pizza place in the world. I feel as if, although my world hasn't stopped turning, somehow it is moving a little slower, and more erratically.
Growing up I was a very picky eater. You wouldn't know that by looking at pictures of me as a kid (I was the round kid that was often mistaken for a boy), but even when you're a picky eater, if the only thing you eat is Chicken McNuggets and cheese pizza, thats what you get. Almost everyday after school I would head over to Massimo's Pizza at the corner of Brookurst and Bushard (half a block from the Pacific Ocean) and get a slice of pizza. It might be that this was the only food establishment in walking distance of my house, but their pizza was really good back in the day. As I got older my tastes had changed and Pizza D'Oro became my fave pizza. I still remember my first time ever going there. My brother Alan brought me there for dinner before dropping me and a friend off at my junior high school dance. Little did I know that this place is known for their monster sized slices of pizza. I asked the waitress for a slice and then was like, wait how big are they maybe I want two. I figured if they are like Pizza Hut sized slices I'd still be hungry after one slice. She and Alan both laughed at me. When she brought out the slice I realized why. Lets just say it was hard fitting my slice and my brother's on the same table. Each slice is at least a foot and a half long. Its a meal in itself. When I first got my license (and my first car which previously was my Granny's and looked unmistakenly like the car from Wayne's World), my friends and I started going to Pizza D for lunch every week. I was like ritualistic. The food kicked ass and you couldn't beat the price since we were all on a small budget consisting of the money found in the couch cushions, or in my case the quarters I took from my dad's slot machine (sorry Dad, love ya).
Then I moved to New York, the pizza capital of the world. Um, outside of Italy at least. My dad says its because the water in New York tastes so good. It affects the taste of the dough or something. New York is famous for its large greasy slices eaten folded over with one hand. I never got the hang of it and still prefer using a fork and knife. I know I know, I'm a dork. Anyway, I bounced around from place to place recognizing the good pizza (Pizza Cave on the 72nd) and bad (J2). Then when I started my current job I kept hearing about this new place nearby. I tried it out and fell head over heels in love.
Just a quick overview on kosher food. The bare facts. Milk and meat can't be eaten together. And no pig. Therefore, most pizza toppings will not be found at your local kosher pizza joint. Only cheese and vegetable pizza. Like I said before, I usually ate plain cheese pizza, with the occassional pepperoni slice thrown in for good measure. For the FFB's here in cyberspace, don't worry, you didn't miss much. Pepperroni is okay but can be lived without. Same goes for cheeseburgers. But there was just something about the pizza at Megabite that was just out of this world. You know how some pizza places have really good crust, others use an incredible sauce, while others still are known for their topping combinations. Mega has it all! Every aspect was so yum.
Their slices are pretty big as well. I always think of the late great Mitch Hedberg's quote about small slices. "I went to a pizzeria and I ordered a slice of pizza; the fucker gave me the smallest slice possible. If the pizza was a pie chart for what people would do if they found a million dollars, the fucker gave me the 'donate to charity' slice. I would like to exchange this for the 'keep it'! " I miss Mitch...
In addition to pizza they offer a large variety of delicious foods. Calzones, Cheese Pretzels, Borekas, wraps, soups, salads, fish, hot entrees, etc etc etc. I always say, the true sign of a good Chinese place is when Chinese people fill up a majority of the restaurant. A kosher place on the other hand is good when most of the tables are filled with non-Jews. You go to a place like J2 (see above bad pizza reference) and will rarely see a non-Jew in the whole place. RS for instance won't even step foot in there. But thats more out of her fear towards rats. But thats another story altogether.
So when I got the email yesterday from Aviva I quickly checked the calendar to make sure it wasn't April Fool's Day. And when I realized it was not I got to work getting to the bottom of the story. My little buddy RB called the Vaad of Flatbush who certifies Megabite kosher. They told us that Eli the owner was selling his restaurant to a non-Jew. Some kashruth authories' rules are more stringent than others. Their rules insist the owner must be Jewish. I figure it probably has to do with overseeing ordering of ingredients and factors like whether or not it will be open on Saturday, the Sabbath.
My hope is that they will become certified with another organization. RS has already volunteered to be the mashgiach. When I told others in my office one grown man almost broke down and cried. His response was what?! WHAT?! This affects lots of people who depend on Megabite. I've met people who eat there for lunch 3-5 times a week. The variety is good and the prices aren't bad. The food is tasty and the employees are friendly. We will miss you Meiku, and Miguel, and Daniel, and Hugo (who always remembers to cut my slices in half). Hopefully we will meet again!
I have begun a petition to keep them kosher. Please visit and sign petition at this address http://www.petitiononline.com/megabite/petition.html. Mega, we will miss you so! Shabbat Shalom!
"Megabite is becoming not kosher as of Wednesday next week…did you hear? The owner told me today…soooo sad"
For those of you who know me, Megabite is a very important part of my life. Megabite happens to be like the best pizza place in the world. I feel as if, although my world hasn't stopped turning, somehow it is moving a little slower, and more erratically.
Growing up I was a very picky eater. You wouldn't know that by looking at pictures of me as a kid (I was the round kid that was often mistaken for a boy), but even when you're a picky eater, if the only thing you eat is Chicken McNuggets and cheese pizza, thats what you get. Almost everyday after school I would head over to Massimo's Pizza at the corner of Brookurst and Bushard (half a block from the Pacific Ocean) and get a slice of pizza. It might be that this was the only food establishment in walking distance of my house, but their pizza was really good back in the day. As I got older my tastes had changed and Pizza D'Oro became my fave pizza. I still remember my first time ever going there. My brother Alan brought me there for dinner before dropping me and a friend off at my junior high school dance. Little did I know that this place is known for their monster sized slices of pizza. I asked the waitress for a slice and then was like, wait how big are they maybe I want two. I figured if they are like Pizza Hut sized slices I'd still be hungry after one slice. She and Alan both laughed at me. When she brought out the slice I realized why. Lets just say it was hard fitting my slice and my brother's on the same table. Each slice is at least a foot and a half long. Its a meal in itself. When I first got my license (and my first car which previously was my Granny's and looked unmistakenly like the car from Wayne's World), my friends and I started going to Pizza D for lunch every week. I was like ritualistic. The food kicked ass and you couldn't beat the price since we were all on a small budget consisting of the money found in the couch cushions, or in my case the quarters I took from my dad's slot machine (sorry Dad, love ya).
Then I moved to New York, the pizza capital of the world. Um, outside of Italy at least. My dad says its because the water in New York tastes so good. It affects the taste of the dough or something. New York is famous for its large greasy slices eaten folded over with one hand. I never got the hang of it and still prefer using a fork and knife. I know I know, I'm a dork. Anyway, I bounced around from place to place recognizing the good pizza (Pizza Cave on the 72nd) and bad (J2). Then when I started my current job I kept hearing about this new place nearby. I tried it out and fell head over heels in love.
Just a quick overview on kosher food. The bare facts. Milk and meat can't be eaten together. And no pig. Therefore, most pizza toppings will not be found at your local kosher pizza joint. Only cheese and vegetable pizza. Like I said before, I usually ate plain cheese pizza, with the occassional pepperoni slice thrown in for good measure. For the FFB's here in cyberspace, don't worry, you didn't miss much. Pepperroni is okay but can be lived without. Same goes for cheeseburgers. But there was just something about the pizza at Megabite that was just out of this world. You know how some pizza places have really good crust, others use an incredible sauce, while others still are known for their topping combinations. Mega has it all! Every aspect was so yum.
Their slices are pretty big as well. I always think of the late great Mitch Hedberg's quote about small slices. "I went to a pizzeria and I ordered a slice of pizza; the fucker gave me the smallest slice possible. If the pizza was a pie chart for what people would do if they found a million dollars, the fucker gave me the 'donate to charity' slice. I would like to exchange this for the 'keep it'! " I miss Mitch...
In addition to pizza they offer a large variety of delicious foods. Calzones, Cheese Pretzels, Borekas, wraps, soups, salads, fish, hot entrees, etc etc etc. I always say, the true sign of a good Chinese place is when Chinese people fill up a majority of the restaurant. A kosher place on the other hand is good when most of the tables are filled with non-Jews. You go to a place like J2 (see above bad pizza reference) and will rarely see a non-Jew in the whole place. RS for instance won't even step foot in there. But thats more out of her fear towards rats. But thats another story altogether.
So when I got the email yesterday from Aviva I quickly checked the calendar to make sure it wasn't April Fool's Day. And when I realized it was not I got to work getting to the bottom of the story. My little buddy RB called the Vaad of Flatbush who certifies Megabite kosher. They told us that Eli the owner was selling his restaurant to a non-Jew. Some kashruth authories' rules are more stringent than others. Their rules insist the owner must be Jewish. I figure it probably has to do with overseeing ordering of ingredients and factors like whether or not it will be open on Saturday, the Sabbath.
My hope is that they will become certified with another organization. RS has already volunteered to be the mashgiach. When I told others in my office one grown man almost broke down and cried. His response was what?! WHAT?! This affects lots of people who depend on Megabite. I've met people who eat there for lunch 3-5 times a week. The variety is good and the prices aren't bad. The food is tasty and the employees are friendly. We will miss you Meiku, and Miguel, and Daniel, and Hugo (who always remembers to cut my slices in half). Hopefully we will meet again!
I have begun a petition to keep them kosher. Please visit and sign petition at this address http://www.petitiononline.com/megabite/petition.html. Mega, we will miss you so! Shabbat Shalom!
Saturday, June 03, 2006
What is the definition?
I just finished watching on my DVR the 2006 Scripps National Spelling Bee. It was aired Live for the first time in Primetime on ABC. Last year I believe they showed the taped version on ESPN. People argued that it isn't a sport, but hell, I saw more sweat on these contestants than I did watching the Winter Olympic's Curling Finals. Anyway, forgetting that all these contestants were probably kids I would have made fun of in junior high, mostly because of my jealousy toward their gigantic brains, they really impressed me. But most surprising was the choice of the words used for these final rounds. The first one I found intriguing was knaidel. Yup, the dumpling my grandma used to put in her chicken soup. This word is derived from Hebrew.
A mere three words later the word gematrial came up. Certainly the contestant Kavya Shivashankar never learned advanced Gemara or he would have known that the correct spelling is also from Hebrew and not spelled gematriol.
Four words later Saryn Hooks came to the mic. Her word, are you ready for this, was hechsher. Hechsher is the formal granting of certification, usually by an authorized rabbi, that a product is certified as kosher. Are you f-ing kidding me?! Its a shame the Lubavitcher from South Carolina that was in this year's bee didn't make it to the final round. She would have had clear sailing. Saryn, my personal favorite, correctly spelled the word but the judges had it down as being spelled hechscher. With a sch at the end. So they dinged the little bell and the surprised Saryn dejectedly sat down with her folks. After the next commercial the head judge Mary Brooks made an annoucement that Saryn had in fact spelled the word correctly. Their sch spelling was a mistake. Phew! I felt like if I wasn't able to spell that word correctly I couldn't be an Orthodox Jew. Thank goodness they were mistaken and Saryn and I were both correct. 2 rounds and 17 words later the final Hebrew word made its appearance in the bee. The word was yizkor, the prayer or prayer service held in memory of the dead. This was easily handled by some Indian dude. Lets hear it for dictionary memorization!
The spelling bee was finally won by Kerry Close of New Jersey. A surprisingly non-nerdy girl. Her finally word was Ursprache. What the hell does that mean? I can't wait til next year. I have a feeling I'll be seeing many Chinese kids carrying around Hebrew prayerbooks boning for next year's bee. If they're smart at least they will...
A mere three words later the word gematrial came up. Certainly the contestant Kavya Shivashankar never learned advanced Gemara or he would have known that the correct spelling is also from Hebrew and not spelled gematriol.
Four words later Saryn Hooks came to the mic. Her word, are you ready for this, was hechsher. Hechsher is the formal granting of certification, usually by an authorized rabbi, that a product is certified as kosher. Are you f-ing kidding me?! Its a shame the Lubavitcher from South Carolina that was in this year's bee didn't make it to the final round. She would have had clear sailing. Saryn, my personal favorite, correctly spelled the word but the judges had it down as being spelled hechscher. With a sch at the end. So they dinged the little bell and the surprised Saryn dejectedly sat down with her folks. After the next commercial the head judge Mary Brooks made an annoucement that Saryn had in fact spelled the word correctly. Their sch spelling was a mistake. Phew! I felt like if I wasn't able to spell that word correctly I couldn't be an Orthodox Jew. Thank goodness they were mistaken and Saryn and I were both correct. 2 rounds and 17 words later the final Hebrew word made its appearance in the bee. The word was yizkor, the prayer or prayer service held in memory of the dead. This was easily handled by some Indian dude. Lets hear it for dictionary memorization!
The spelling bee was finally won by Kerry Close of New Jersey. A surprisingly non-nerdy girl. Her finally word was Ursprache. What the hell does that mean? I can't wait til next year. I have a feeling I'll be seeing many Chinese kids carrying around Hebrew prayerbooks boning for next year's bee. If they're smart at least they will...
Shavuous round up
This evening we finished celebrating the holiday of Shavuos. This is the holiday that God gave the Torah to the Jewish people. In the Torah is says that there was thunder and lightning on Mount Sinai when the Torah was given. Appropriately, Thursday night we experienced one of the most intense thunderstorms I've seen in a long time. And even more apropos, my synagogue is called Mount Sinai. Coincidence? I think not. The irony was not lost with me. One of the traditions on the holiday is to stay up late celebrating the receiving of the Torah the best way we know how. By learning Torah. I for one usually just celebrate by eating a traditional Shavuot chesecake, then reading a Jewish book, then spending the rest of the night in the bathroom because I'm lactose intolerant. This year I fortunately remembered my Lactaid. So not being bloated and the fact that I drank about 9 cups of coffee that day led to me being able to stay up all night learning. Our temple scheduled shuirim, or lectures, throughout the night. I only sat through one lecture before adjourning to a private room with three buddies LZ, AB, and DH, where we learned privately. I need to give these chicks props because when I thought I would go mad at around 3 am if I didn't go to sleep they convinced me that the earliest davening (praying time) was at 4:50 am and knew I could stick around another 2 hours. I went upstairs and was surprised to find quite a few people had stuck around to keep with the tradition of learning late into the night. There was even a few chicks still up there, including blog supporter ZK. I give mad props to all those people who were there for the 4:50 minyan and like me were the first to hear read the special section of the Torah that included the 10 Commandments. And then we all went home to pass out. I haven't stayed up all night since finals in college or paryting in high school. Aaaah, good times.
And God Laughed...
Ever feel like God is mad at you for something? For more on that, see Arona's blog.
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