Calling it like I see it: Sammi and Ronnie

Don’t judge me, but I am a HUGE fan of the reality show, Jersey Shore. Not only because I’m from Jersey, but also because it is pure, raw, guilty pleasure, entertainment. After a hard day, I would curl up on the couch with a glass of Ron-Ron Juice and shut my brain off to watch the kids in the Jersey Shore fist bump, creep and smush their way to Herpes-ville. I love the lingo,  the tans, the steroids, the gorillas and the laundry.

But what I don’t love is watching what has been happening between Sammi and Ronnie for the last two seasons. Put aside for a moment the different times they cheated or didn’t cheat on each other, because the truths or lies of those facts are completely irrelevant. Sammi and Ronnie are enacting and reenacting (in a very real way, I fear) the same dating violence that often leads to broken families, broken bones and fatalities. I don’t think it’s funny or entertaining to watch them fall down into this spiral of violence with all of the determining factors that go along with identifying dating/domestic violence. I think it is even worse to watch the other Jersey Shore housemates watch this happen, sometimes quite literally with popcorn and a beer, as if it was happening on a movie screen and not to their friends in their house. Perhaps the constant fighting and yelling, the cycle of angst and anger and explosions all hit just too close to home for me, having spiraled around and around this track myself for a few years, but for me, watching this relationship unravel is just disturbing.

I don’t think that young people see how dating violence develops. I know I didn’t. One of the things I am most proud of in the work I do professionally is an amazing seminar we offer for high school and middle school students on dating violence. We start off by talking about dating- what are the things you do with someone you like, or have a crush on? Kids answer- you go on dates, you compliment them, you do romantic things like picnics and candle-lit dinners, you buy each other gifts, hug, kiss, etc. After listing these qualities of dating on the white board, our talented discussion leaders ask: When you think of the question in terms of dating violence, which of these qualities on the board need to be erased? The correct answer: none of them. Dating violence includes all of the love, romance, presents and special dates that a healthy relationship does, which is why it is so hard to see past confusion when the anger and violence spike briefly in between compliments, romance and kisses.

With alcoholism in his family and a very short fuse, the Shore’s Ronnie should probably quit the bottle immediately and shove his fists up his ass, if he can think of nothing nice to do with them. His behavior is one of a douche bag with 4 multiple personalities- a regular douche, a douche in love, a douche who cries, and a douche who hits people. His classic pull-in, hug-you, push-you-away, explode, cry, beg, plead and pull-you-in again routine is classic abuser behavior. I believe that at this point, the emotional, verbal and physical violence between Sammi and Ronnie is mutually instigated, although clearly there are influencing factors such as alcohol, double standards, the situation being a drama queen and Ron-Ron being a 4 times Sammi’s size that prove the playing field to be uneven. I believe that Sammi had a moment of clarity when she left the show mid-season, citing the craziness and that she couldn’t heal while being around him. Unfortunately, they are both completely addicted to the turmoil at this point, and so are we as viewers.

I don’t have a solution. A woman (or man) stuck in that spiral of violence with a partner can only leave when they are ready. I hope that Sammi doesn’t get pregnant and does get into therapy. I hope that Ronnie gets off the pills and booz and gets some help. I hope that maybe if anything good comes of this disgusting spectacle (and I not referring to America seeing Snookie’s kooka) it will be if a viewer can see some of herself in Sammi and get out before it gets worse.

Bitch, Unleashed

If there is one thing that pisses me off in Israel it is owners who let their dogs roam around outside alone and without a leash. In cities, as well as on kibbutz or in the moshav, you can always see large and small dogs just mozying around like they own the place. When its a tiny little pincher dog, the worst case scenario is that the little piece of shit will high-pitch-bark you to death. But when I see a Bull Dog or Boxer, or some kind of a German Shepherd mix coming my way while I’m walking Jersey, I get genuinely scared.

More than a few times, during a simple walk with my gorgeous gray pup on his pink leash, Jersey has been attacked by these teeth-bearing, barking, biting asshole dogs. But the thing is, that these dogs have collars, and tags and in all cases an owner who lives in the neighborhood. These dogs don’t look hungry or tired or dehydrated- they have a home, these dogs have owners who are just as big an asshole as they are.

Letting your dog out alone to roam my streets is irresponsible – if you adopted or bought a dog, then you agreed to take care of it. That includes feeding it and walking it. If you had no intention of taking proper care o f the dog, you should not have taken it in. This ride dog-owner behavior is also annoying- I often have to end my walk early because I see a dog I want to avoid, or I have to leave an outdoor event because of a stray dog starting trouble with Jersey- with no owner in the picture, I am the only one there who can take responsibility of the situation and make sure no one gets hurt.

But more than that, it is dangerous to leave dogs unattended in the streets. With one bite, a dog can kill my little Jersey. But old dogs can be crazy, all it takes is a split second and a dog can tweak out and bite a dog, a kid, or an adult. I think that owners who let their big dogs go stray should be fined and prosecuted as if their dog has already attacked- because who knows how many days have been ruined, how many walks have been cut short or how many innocent little adorable Jerseys have been terrified by this menacing dog, and it’s not the dog’s fault, it’s the responsibility of the owner.

I leave you with this sad and hilarious story: After a few bad run-ins with aggressive dogs, jersey and I were on a walk in my cousin’s neighborhood in Yavne, a residential small street in a residential, small suburb town. It’s quiet and Jersey and I are enjoying our walk in the sun when all of a sudden, out of nowhere we hear barking and growling over our heads. We look up and we see a huge dog, climbing a fence to get to us. Well, Jersey and I  ain’t no dog’s fool. We took off running like our asses were on fire. When I got across the street, I looked back and saw that the dog was still barking, but he couldn’t make it over the fence. So Jers and I slowed down and my poor poor baby dog, so scared and so startled walks over to a tree, lifts his leg to take a piss and starts to shit in the air. I swear. He literally did not know whether to piss or shit.

Please keep your dogs on a leash. Thank you.

I am a wuss

Oh My Blog! Where have you been?

It’s been WAY too long since my last blog post. I should be ashamed of myself.

So where have I been? Well, since my move down south and after an awesome trip to NJ and Florida, I started a new job in a rape and domestic violence crisis center, working on violence prevention education.

During the day, I have been busting my ass, getting to know a new job, an amazingly talented staff and an intense, emotionally challenging subject matter.

So that means that in the evenings I have been exhausted, physically and emotionally. Most days I find myself curled up in the fetal position on the couch by 8pm and asleep by 10.

To recap the time that has passed, here are the conclusions I have come to over the last few weeks:

1- I am really lucky to have an amazing partner. There was a time in my not so distant past when I thought that fighting, defending myself, pleading and crying was a way of life. I thought it was normal. I’ve changed since then and so have my choices. I have chosen and been lucky to have been chosen by an amazing partner who is patient, kind, giving and fun. He is not afraid of my demons, my past or even what I look like when I’ve had the flu for a week. He thinks I am strong and beautiful. That is the way life should be. (Dear Lord, Please do not let this be my Sandra Bullock moment.)

2- The women who work in rape crisis and domestic violence support are the strongest women in the world. Rape and incest survivors are the bravest women in the world. Survivors who get help and tell their stories and heal are amazing to me. The work never ends. But I consider myself so lucky to be in the presence of such strength and bravery all day long. I am in awe of woman’s spirit to survive and empower others.

So while I might not post as often as I used to when I was singing the secretary blues or working in social networking online all day, trust that I am spending every day doing my utmost to leave this world a better place for women and girls when I eventually go.

In the meantime, here are some awesome things you can check out:

1- Like There’s No Away, my baby bro and soon-to-be-sista-in-law’s blog. They are brilliant people who care about the world and want to share their environmental experimental lovely fun life with you. I’ve already gotten some amazing tips from them for my new Negev life. Enjoy!

2- The good old Big Felafel. My girls had babies, so don’t blame them if their blog is now a bit baby-focused. They’re back with more awesome posts on how to score great deals in Israel and reviewing the newest “mexican” restaurants.

3- Jezebel: an angry girl pop culture and media site. I love it. It’s rude and a little feminist and chock full of Charlie Sheen and Lindsey Lohan.

4- And should you chose to get off the net, READ A DAMN BOOK by Chelsea Handler. She is my favorite comedian, I love the show, I recently saw her live for my birthday in NJ and she is pee in your pants hilarious. After starting work at a rape crisis center I decided to lay off of the dark and twisty books before bed, since I already have quite enough dark and twisty all day long. I picked up Chelsea’s first masterpiece, My Horizontal Life, and now I have a different kind of nightmare- the hilarious kind. It’s rude, it’s sick, it’s hilarious and you know you’ll love it, girl!

Mission: Oprah

You’re reading this blog right now, which implies that you already know what I am about to tell you: I love Oprah. I quote her like a guru, I talk about her like she’s my friend. I use Oprah-isms in my daily language to the point where my Israeli sweetheart, thinks that shlumpadinka and Vajayjay are real English words.

Since you’ve already read my Life List, you know that #1 on my list is seeing Oprah. Last time I was in Chi Town, in addition to all of the fun, another amazing friend who was living in Chicago at the time, via NY and on her way to join me in Israel, Ravit took me on a pilgrimage to Harpo studios. Harpo was closed but I was so elated just to be there, I took pictures by the sign and since I carried my O magazine from that month all over Chicago with me, I even took a picture with the Oprah on the magazine cover in front of the empty ghost town building. That was enough for me then. I was thrilled.

But #1 on my life list is the real deal. I want to see Oprah in person, I want to sit in the audience.

Then I got the news: Oprah is ending her show. I’m sad but understand her reasons. And since I’ve not yet stayed at a job for longer than 3 years, I can’t begin to imagine how hard and crucial that decision must have been. Personally, though, I can’t imagine a world without the Oprah Show. But it also means something else: I have just one chance to get up close and personal with Mama Oprah.

In late November, I am going to New Jersey with my Boo to spend Thanksgiving with my family, to be with amazing friends at their love-infused wedding and to road trip it to Chicago, to visit my wonderful friend, Dr. Eva. Like Oprah and Gayle, Boo and I are going to sign and annoy each other across the country all the way to Chicago from New Jersey.

We can’t wait to spend my 29th birthday weekend in Chi Town on Dr. E’s red carpet ride but there is one more goal on this trip- I want to meet Oprah. I want to sit in the audience of the Oprah Show. I want to at least tour the studio. I want to get closer to the lady and the legend. Oprah has taught me so much, I want to meet my teacher, and walk through the hallways of the school.

Recently and not for the first time, I put a dream of mine into the universe, and the universe answered. Oprah taught me that. So I’m doing it again:

My dear friends and blog readers, please help me get to Oprah. We can do this, together. I check the Oprah website every day to see if the reservations window is open, but no luck yet. I’m going to try to get tickets the legitimate way, but I need your help. If all of the people I know and love contact all of the people they know and love, surely we can find a way to get me to Oprah. So let’s do this. Knowing me, it’ll be like Chicago Jewish Geography at first- who knows a Jew in the great windy city who knows Jew that can get me to Oprah. Then it will expand until eventually, I find myself in the audience of the Oprah Show.  I have faith. I’m putting it on my vision board. It will happen. Please contact me if you have any leads, or know of anything I can do to get Oprah Show tickets for early December.

Oh, and universe, I’s like to thank you in advance for your cooperation on this matter.

 

See you soon, Mama Oprah!

 

 

No Phone Zone

‘Cause Oprah said so.

I know I have a complicated relationship with Oprah. But I really do love her. The #1 thing on my bucket list is to see her show when I am in Chicago this winter. I must see Oprah. I must.

Last season, Mama O took on a campaign that changed the way I think about driving. The truth is, that I always talked on my cell phone while driving- well, not always considering when I was 17 all I had was a beeper. Throughout the past few years since the cell phone era took over, whenever I did have a car- a rental or my own before some ass-face rear-ended me and sent me a-flyin’ over the median- I used a bluetooth ear piece or speaker phone (only to avoid the ticket) and I never hesitated to answer a quick text message.

Then I saw the Oprah Show episode about the deadly effects of texting and talking on the cell phone while driving. Did you know that driving while texting or taking on the phone is as dangerous if not more dangerous than driving while drunk? It’s true. Celebrities took her pledge to make their car a No Phone Zone, but that isn’t what got me. I listened while parents told how they lost their children’s lives because someone sent a text message (SMS for us cool expats) while driving. One driver told how he became a double murderer by simply answering a text message. I can still feel the goosebumps on my skin while a mother talks about seeing her daughter’s mangled bicycle on the side of the road- all because the driver of an SUV took their eyes off the road for a second- their mind was on the cell phone instead of seeing and registering the child in the street, bike-riding. In one second, lives are ruined.  After seeing that episode, I knew that not only could I never again make my phone a priority over road safety, but I could not take part in anyone else taking that same chance.

I just bought a car. It is small, cute and Euro-trashy. My car is a no phone zone. My boyfriend is a No Phone Zone man when he drives my car. I also no longer talk on the phone with people while they are driving. My mother, who calls me often from the road, since the seven-hour time difference between our two countries makes it very hard to find convenient time to talk, is no longer allowed to call me from the car. Not on a bluetooth, not on speaker phone, not one text message. No more lives will be lost, if I can help it.

I do not want to be on the phone with you while you- God forbid- get into that accident. I will not be a part of this dangerous game anymore- especially not with the people I love. I tell my friends, taxi drivers and everyone I meet that I will not ride in the car with them if they are going to be on the phone- texting or talking. They often do not take it seriously and I have to admit that it infuriates me. My life (and your own) is meaningless to you, if you cannot put down your phone and just focus on the road. I do not need a ride and we do not need to get to where we are going, if you cannot put down that phone. It is NOT OK. You are NOT good at it. You canNOT handle it. No one can and no one should.

So, however late- Israel gets Oprah Show episodes a few months behind the rest of the free world- PLEASE WATCH THIS VIDEO. Please, please, please stop texting and talking on your cell phones while driving. Make a commitment: Take the No Phone Zone pledge. It is not worth the lives lost. I don’t want to lose you to this stupid, selfish behavior. If my Blackberry can wait, then your Blackberry can wait. Your friends and your boss can wait. Hundreds of dollars in fines or tickets is nothing compared to killing someone on the road or losing your own life.

I love you. Make your car a No Phone Zone today.

Love yourself. Make your car a No Phone Zone today.

Ass Backwards Racism

Do you ever feel like the world is moving ass backwards?

During the W. Bush administration we all felt that at one point or another. This BP spill debacle- a similar feeling, what with all the grassroots and even corporate environmentalist momentum in the US over the past few years, my green friends must feel like they’re taking crazy pills.

Well, life in Israel is just that these days- ass backwards. I mean we have an anti-civil rights (read: pro-segregation and discrimination) fight on our hands that would have us whistling dixie all the way back to the states if we knew any better… and if we had national health care coverage there.

Here’s the story. In a west bank settlement called Immanuel, population 2,900, an all girls’ school has been in a racially divided battle similar to Brown v Board of Ed‘s separate but equal case. The Haredi, ultra-Orthodox, community is up in arms over an Israeli High Court decision that states clearly that the school can absolutely not lawfully segregate the Ashkenazi girls (white girls) from the Sephardi girls (brown girls) and any parent who refuses to send their girls to school would be jailed- and many were last week, starting with the fathers. 100,000 protested the ruling, and though imprisonment is an extreme response, I agree with it 110%. These parents are committing a crime, in my opinion, when they instill hatred and racism in their children’s mind, when they value their passion for discrimination over the importance of their girls’ education. These girls already have much less opportunities than most- in the act of keeping them home, the parents take away the minimal education and freedom the girls have. This ENTIRE situation is so ass backwards that it is hard for me to comprehend.

And THIS is what I think is wrong with settlements and extremism in Judaism. Such a severe and voluntary isolation of a small community, run by an essentially totalitarian regime, as the rabbi and only the rabbi makes the rules and when he does, all follow suit or risk consequences. The leaders of the desegregation movement face death threats. The fear of outsiders that this community expresses and the complete firewall of images entering their community is so over arching that their school guidelines have prohibited outdoor bike-riding for girls, movies, the internet, immodest dress in the home and all visits from those outside the community. We are talking Taliban-like rules in a physical space that is tense, and nearly impossible and dangerous to get to and from. All of that combined, breeds some severely unhealthy communal behaviors and placed in the hands of toxic, old, extremist leaders- you get racism, discrimination, and ultimately violence.

Friends, if this isn’t ass backwards, I don’t know what is. And we have enough of it within Israel’s borders- why continue to allow it to foster in illegal and most importantly, detrimental, inciting settlements? Settlements aren’t the only thing wrong with Israel and stopping the building, relocated them to Israel will not solve this conflict, but settlements are not helping and it does too much dammage, nationally and internationally, to be worth the investment. 2,900 extremists Jews to do not make a Jewish land, not my Jewish land and not my Judaism.

I believe that the cause of the grand scale racism we see in Israeli culture is the separation between us- and now I’m not only talking about extreme examples or Ashkenazi and Sephardi, but also the outdated and irrational experience that Israeli women foster far more fear of Arab men than they do of Israeli men, for example. It is much harder to hate, to fear, and to believe culturally engrained ‘racist’ non-truths based on their ethnicity if you know and trust and care about people from that background. For as long as we are SO separated from each other- by language, by separate schools, by separate social scenes- the longer we will fear  and allow ourselves to hate eachother. This goes for all of Israel’s diverse populations. This is why initiatives like the YMCA peace daycare/kindergarten have at least a chance of working- the languages, the colors of skin, the cultures are mixed at such a young age that the love of diversity has a real chance of sticking at a basic level. This is also why joint youth programs, summer programs are so integral. If done right, they can begin to change the damage done to us by out culture of fear from years of war.

We could wait for the government to get on board, but they have their hands full with infighting between Jews. Bibi is busy folding his arms, pouting and dancing around with Obama. Lieberman is busy doing his very best Mussolini impression. It’s up to us. We make choices every day to be a part of the problem or to be a part of the solution and separation, thus furthering the fear and distance between us, is clearly not helping one bit. Diversity is an opportunity that we in Israel all need to take advantage of.

Back in the DIY

Here’s an article I recently submitted to an upcoming issues of my favorite feminist grrrrrrrrrlzine, Fallopian Falafel!

Every great female R&B diva has a song about back in the day- so here’s mine.

Remember when kicking society’s normative ass used to be simpler? When an upsetting Op Ed piece in the newspaper spawned an informal get-together of like-minded individuals and passionate conversation about what to do about it? When a monkey-faced president’s woman-hating and freedom-hating policies could motivate you to spend sleepless nights and absentee days rallying in your basement, making posters, signing up allies for events and volunteering. When DC and even the center of campus looked like a stomping ground for grassroots social change movements and every set of public steps looked like a soapbox. Poster-making parties, sign up sheets, dividing up responsibilities, the very first list-serves when email had just started up, the jokes, the rage, the chanting, the MEGA PHONES! I MISS THE MEGA PHONES!

Whatever happened to the days of DIY (do-it-yourself) activism? I miss the days when we had no budgets, no bosses, no secretaries, no hierarchies, no guidelines, goals, visions, funding reports. No funding! If no one gives you money, no one can tell you what to do! Ha! The secret to a happy life.

I remember it as a ton of work and even more fun. I always enjoyed finding a meeting space when we didn’t reserve a room in the student center. “Yes, yes, we are Phi Beta Kappa”, we’d tell them. I love seeing a room with more paint and posters than floor space. When fist pumps came with cheers and chants at a rally, not bumpin’ base on the Jersey shore. I’d be there- one way or another, I’d skip class, lose sleep, risk being alienated and labeled, if it was a cause I believed in, nothing could keep me away.

Things are so much more complicated now- resumes, salary negotiations, future job prospects, past job baggage, coworkers, and “business casual”. I actually can’t imagine myself in an American workplace where jeans and flip-flops are not acceptable work clothes. I can’t even spend 8 hours in jeans! All day, I stare at my computers, wishing and hoping that I could spend the day in sweatpants. Now that my workday starts at 8 AM (yeah right. we both know I don’t get there at 8AM), I can also say that my brain doesn’t turn on until like 10 AM, so if I was getting in at 11 AM, I might actually get more done, but hey, I do what I’m told. I should also say here, that I’m lucky. Most of my jobs in the past few years have had strong elements of social change, civil rights, and pluralism- my drive to be a professional activist definitely comes from my glory days as a renegade activist. But it never is really the same, is it?

Back in the day, all you needed were a good worn in pair of sneakers and the sneaky knowledge of how to make hundreds of free copies. Maybe now is a good time to thank the good people of Rutgers University and apologize for my abuse of public printers and copy machines in the library. I do understand now that those were intended for term papers, not activists fliers. If and when I ever have money, I will make a generous donation to cover the damages done by my restless hands.

Back in the day, I made the rules and then I regularly broke them. Things changed last-minute but the weight was different- my rent, the roof over my head, didn’t depend on it. So I was freer then to take risks and speak my mind. Now, I need a career for fulfillment, yes, but I also need to know where my next pay check is coming from and that changes everything in adult social change work- it just does.

Thankfully, after 6 years of work in nonprofits, I am starting to get back my volunteer spirit- I am looking into ways to start volunteer long-term to help women, and improve my community and society. Maybe some things never change.

On hating soccer and other unpatriotic activity

On this merry World Cup holiday (and coincidentally the anniversary of my 4th wedding anniversary… oops), let me finally say, with all of my heart, I FUCKING HATE SOCCER.

Football, futbol, כדור רגל , soccer, whatever you call it, the foot fairy sport annoys the shit out of me. I mean please tell me how to watch a game, in which for 90 minutes, grown men tip-toe around, barely score points, don’t run extremely far or very fast at all and yet when they fall down or get hurt- they cry like mother-f’in babies! I mean you didn’t even skin your knee, and yet you are laying on the field, holding your leg, scrunching your face up in pain, all in hopes of a yellow card or a call by the ref. What a wussy sport! Not to mention, that the sport itself is so boring and uneventful that the announcers have to jibber-jabber constantly until finally, FINALLY, someone scores a goal, at which point said announcers must freak out and get excited about it, because it might be the only one all game.

I know that especially in Israel and especially during the World Cup it is in poor taste to talk shit about this beloved sport. I don’t really care. Other sports make sense, even amuse me at times. None really interest me, but that’s just me. Soccer is, however, the very bane of my existence because I just don’t get it. It’s not complicated, or interesting, or manly, or challenging and yet people treat it like it really matters!

You know what matters in life? Being kind and responsible, being honest and honorable, and being good to the people around you. Those things matter, sports do not, not really. I know people love their sports, and that’s a nice hobby or interest- but in Israel, as in the World Cup, soccer is a sport that arouses violent competition between crazed, often drunk, fans. In Israel and Europe, violence and racism are unfriendly spawn of these sports, so much so that popular soccer players have been cast as the stars in anti-violence advertising campaigns, and many games have been closed to fans, as a punishment of bad behavior in the stands at the previous game.

I am Israeli, I am a Zionist, I am a citizen of the world and I hate soccer. Suck it up and stop stuffing this World Cup shit down my throat. Just for the record, so you don’t have to ask: No, I won’t be watching today’s game. I’m not rooting for anyone to win. I won’t be filling out lottery tickets for any teams. I don’t have colors or shirts or scarves or pom-poms. And unless they show it on Glee, I won’t know who won and I will not care.

Fatty Update #745

Here’s the thing. A few weeks ago I started working out and seeing a dietician. My goal: slow down the growth of the pot belly. Don’t get me wrong, I do love my jigley-bits, but it isn’t healthy and I’m tired of always feeling like my pants are choking me to death.

ANYWAY, I am doing it. I have lost 1 kilo (2 lbs) so far and I’m psyched about it I guess, but mostly I actually feel better. Did you know that working out, no matter how much you curse during cardio, gives you more energy AND increases libido? true and true = happy and happy.

I’m planning my meals and measuring food and working my ass out 5+ days a week. It sucks so much, but it’s apparently what I have to do if I want to get a little littler, and feel younger and sexier. Did I mention sexier?

sports bras are SEXY

Here’s the problem: I am a fucking mess. My muscles hurt, my back hurts, I think I pulled a ham thingy, and I’m fucking exhausted. Last night, I feel asleep at 11 pm.

I don’t even want to drink beer because I don’t want to take the calories in! Sad!

But I’m working on finding the balance. I know this needs to be a long-term, life-style thing. But it’s hard.

You know what isn’t hard? Devouring a 0% fat chocolate pudding. Yum.

Garden State of Mind: NJ Education Edition

I’m from New Jersey, the joke of the world. It’s really not funny anymore.

“Isn’t that in New York?”
“Ah, the armpit of the US!”
“Oh, like Jersey Shore, cool!”
“Ew, Jersey is so dirty and smelly”

Honestly, it has to stop. The majority of New Jersey is beautiful, green, sand and sea.

Except in winter, when its snow. But seriously, they don’t call us the Garden State for nothing.

My mother has wild turkeys in her neighborhood. I swear, they are huge and NJ animal control doesn’t remove them because they are wild indigenous animals. It’s freaky. She has an ongoing war between the underdog birds and the squirrels (reigning champs) in her back yard for God’s sake!

I mean, if NJ was so bad, how did we produce such amazing music like Bon Jovi and Springsteen and Lauryn Hill? And of course, if New Jersey wasn’t green and brilliant, why would my favorite writer and philosopher (my definition of a philosopher, probably not hers), Elizabeth Gilbert, settle in New Jersey? After all, when I ask myself WWEGD (What Would Elizabeth Gilbert Do?) the answer is always the same: get divorced, travel around the world, get into precarious situations, fall in love, write books and settle in New Jersey. Sounds like a plan.

Besides, New Jersey is a part of me. It’s where I grew up, played soccer, grew boobs, stopped playing soccer (never to play again), got bullied in high school, had my first kiss, and sang my first note. Some of my best friends are from New Jersey. There are no people like Jersey people. So don’t believe the hype. Big earrings and awful fake tans make good TV but the rest of the state is full of diverse, hard-working, gardening, dog-walking and fun-loving people. I dare you to find better flea markets, or diners.

Right now, New Jersey is in danger of losing some of its great standards in education thanks our new republican governor, Chris Christie. Really?! Who names a baby Chris Christie?! Well, Governor Christie must still be pretty peeved at his mom for that prenatal jab she called a name because he is taking it out on New Jersey’s public schools and libraries. Thousands of teaching jobs if not more are being cut in public schools and public library hours are already being cut down, in preparation for the passing of a budget in New Jersey that will cripple the growth of our great states children. What Governor Christ has not considered, perhaps because his children go to private schools which he pays for with his salary which is paid from our tax dollars, is that when public education and public libraries become rundown and neglected, it will produce a generation of citizens less prepared for higher education (which they won’t be able to afford since he is cutting all state grants and funding for that too) and more likely to live lives of low wage work, illegal work and crime, rather than becoming active productive, capable citizens. Good job, Chris-Chris. You suck.

I want to give a quick Hell Yeah shout out to the high school kids who used Facebook to mobilize budget-cut walk-outs this week. HELL YEAH! I love to hear about kids organizing. Screw Chris Chris! Walk Out! You say budget cuts, we say kiss our butts! Now THAT is what NJ youth is made of.

If you’d like to let Governor CC know what you think about his dubious leadership in this time of financial crisis, do it:

Save NJ Libraries

Call you legislators

So no, Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore. You’re in Jersey now. The wicked witch is still alive and well, but we’re gonna kick his ass. And there is still no place like home, bitch.