I Should Definitely Blog About the Addictions Thing, Meanwhile...

I won't elaborate on the inappropriate sexual thoughts here, since some of them could get me further shunned and for the fact that there may be children or teenagers reading this blog (as if teenagers don't have sexual thoughts... but I still want to be a good example for the younger adults and legally-considered-to-be children. I'm well into being a bat mitzvah-- some of these young a just became bnei v'banot mitzvah.).

As for the other addictions, they can be read about on my Twitter (@Nickidewbear) and heard about in a YouTube video which should have led some of you here. I'll blog more b'haboker (and blogging daily or almost daily is a commitment, one which can partly affect one to be worn out). L'Laila v'L'Erev Shabbat Tovim.

If You Can't Handle the Job, Go Find Another One Or Leave the Workforce

Why Saforra Khan had to make a haaj on school time brings back to mind the incident with the haredit police officer from Crown Heights that Shmarya covered. Even though Bill O'Reilly did get into a little mocking, he was understandably frustrated with that mache Megyn Kelly (and she wasn't a mache in a good way). Bill O'Reilly understands that Jews can't just make aliyah or chagag and expect everyone else to be goyim l'Shabbat (or Shabbos goyim); and others can't just return or make pilgrimages to Rome, Loudres (which Bill mentioned as an example), Istanbul, Athens, Deseret, Salt Lake City, or wherever else.

Saffora Khan should've been given a pink slip and looked for a Mohamedian school at which to teach and be accomadated: they would've encouraged and even sponsored her to make a haaj.

Maybe I Need To Blogpost About My Facebook Page... And Printscreen...

As I said, re my Facebook page and printscreens of it:

So I Was Reading Parsha Lekh L'kha, And Then I Noticed This...

And here are two pictures of it, in reverse order (I think.).

Speaking of Great-Grandma Czarnecki And En El Primero de Novembre de 2011...

Y en el Dia de Los Muertos 2011, I think of and remember Great-Grandma Czarnecki. I think of the woman who was my great-grandma and who I took for granted all those times that we visited her at Apartment 214, 10 E South Street in Wilkes Barre. I think of the woman whose history I never knew or took time to knew-- so she's Pop-Pop's mom, Great-Granddad's widow, the one who's Lithuanian (I assumed from what I was told.). I think of the woman whose life came to a cold, callous end in a hospital with its possessor's leg amputated and with a murder-malice-intenting son who committed Social Security in it.

I think of the good Jewish Evagelical Catholic mother and wife, aunt and sister, and daughter who I've learned so much about since she's been gone-- the daughter of a gentile Trudniak and Jewish Catholic Monkaova of Kacwin and Lapsze Nizne, Poland (both then in Slovakian Austria Hungary), the mother (and grandmother and great-grandmother) of Jews herself ("And in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.”"; "and in your seed all the nations of the earth shall be blessed;"-- and if she didn't know, she'd at least be tickled to know that her seed and her mother's seed are also descendants of at least many of the nations of the earth); the wife, aunt, grandaunt, great-grandaunt, and otherwise a relative of a diverse Jewish family

(e.g., I don't think that she'd care anymore that her son Tony's wife is Irish-- she didn't like that Grandaunt Mary Ellen is Irish. Maybe she wanted, but just never said that she wanted, Granduncle Tony to marry a good Jewish girl-- particularly an Ashkenazic Jewish Catholic girl, Anusit or open about her Jewishness-- and not make the same mistake that she did and marry a meshugener, who would've been a meshugene in Granduncle Tony's case. V'chalilah when Pop-Pop married Grandma-- she did not like her. She even cut her out of a picture and replaced her with a Christmas tree.).

And looking back on all I've learned and all that I saw for myself, especially in a Jewish context; I see an elter-bubbie for whom I will pursue tzedek-- "Tzedek, tzedek, tirdof."-- and let her son learn that of all things that he's done, (so to speak) stepping all over his good Jewish Christian mama is one thing with which he will not get away.


I am a Monkaova Trudniak, no question.

Great-Grandma Czarnecki her grandson Gary on my dad's first wedding day, July 22, 1989. This is how I remember her-- except that she was much older when I met her.

At Dad's baptism. Great-Granddad is next to her.

She is holding Aunt Mary, Great-Granddad next to her and holding Dad. Granduncle Red is on the right, Granduncle Jim next to Great-Grandma.



Great-Grandma Czarnecki on her wedding day, May 10, 1934. I should've known-- she was too pretty to be just Slovakian.

With mama Anna Trudniak nee Monkaova

I'm Doing A Little Better, And It'll Be A Day-To-Day-Thing...

A day-to-day and pray-to-pray thing. Having Diplegic Spastia Cerebral Palsy plus OCD/Anxiety/Depression and Irritable Bowel Syndrome (and the BRCA1 gene), plus being a "mamzerah" Jewish American in a culture and in communities that don't accept Jews-- especially Messianic Jews-- is hard. Add having an imperfect-- e.g., covetous, adulterous, faithless, hopeless, hypocritical-- human nature to all that, and you've got a situation where a day-to-day, pray-to-pray thing is needed. Also, I'm still living with Great-Grandma Gaydos' avodah koferah (If you think that we have Vilmosz's et. al.'s blood removed from our hands-- although Vilmosz and others did survive-- you're meshuga: you don't understand what guilt down to the third and fourth generations is). And I'm living with Great-Grandma Czarnecki's blood because of Pop-Pop's avoda kofer and how he is left unprosecuted after almost five years.

So as a disabled, trying-to-figure-out-my-identity-as-a-Jew Jew and Jewish-American Christian with more than just Cerebral Palsy and meshuges un tsuris in di mispoche to deal with; I have a long, painful way and road to go-- though prayers have been answered so far, even if (over the years) not always in ways in which I'd've liked them to be answered.

Piano Lessons (And Calling Myself To the Carpet Is A Process)

In piano lessons today and during other times, I realize that I freak out and am not as focued as I should be on the music. Per my OCD/Anxiety/Depression and possible Aspberger's-- and non-medicated AD(H)D--, I can't stay as fully focused. I think about getting through practice as quickly as possible, or at least trying to, and being like the others who can (so to speak) churn out something like Bach's "Prelude in A Minor" in a minute or two (I can't play as fastly because of my Cerebral Palsy.). I worry about what other people will think, even if and though they're not in the practice room. For example, on the cover of the "American Soldier" sheet music is a picture of Toby Keith-- it's almost or somewhat like Toby is there and watching me-- and what would he think? (As I said, calling myself to the carpet, including sharing my weirder thoughts, is a process.)

And I don't practice as much as I should. Due to OCD, etc. and escapism, etc.; I just don't practice as much as I should-- I practice in small spurts, too-small spurts. And during my spurts, I often have the computer in my room by me. And as I said,  I think about getting through practice as quickly as possible, or at least trying to, and being like the others who can (so to speak) churn out something like Bach's "Prelude in A Minor" in a minute or two-- and get to their computers and go on Facebook or whatever.

I'll, unless by some miracle, never be Mozart, Beethoven, or Sallieri.