As most of you probably heard, the world was supposed to come to an end on May 21, 2011. The craziest thing about the would-be rapture was that it all started with this one lone nutjob, and enough people believed him that it became a big deal. There was even a huge billboard warning about the end of days along the I-10. I first saw it on the way back from Purim in Lafayette. Obviously, nothing happened, but it did give me an excuse to listen to "The Man Comes Around" over and over. (Love that song, love Johnny Cash.)
Friday was a No-Good Very Bad Day, for a few different reasons. I was very late for work that morning. I had applied for a job at the place where my sister works and actually, foolishly started looking forward to it, but it looks like I won't get hired. At the temple that night, my Jewish grandfather had told my Jewish grandmother that I was looking for a job, and she bombarded me with all suggestions all through services. She seems to think that since I have many marketable skills -- yes, she obviously knows me really well -- I must not be looking hard enough. Ugh. I ended the day by riding my bike around late at night, in hopes that I might get hit by a car. Obviously, that didn't happen either.
But Torah study was the next morning, and this was one of the first times that I felt like the parsha really spoke to me. It was the last two chapters of Leviticus, and I took it as a lesson about being happy with what you have and a warning against being dominated by fear. ("The sound of a driven leaf shall put them to flight. Fleeing as from the sword, they shall fall, though none pursues.") Everybody at the temple was talking about Netanyahu's recent visit to DC and press conference with Obama, to the point that I was surprised we got to the parsha at all.
In other Jew news, I'm starting to feel like I'm banging my head against a wall with Rabbi W. At the most, he's in town for services every other week, and whenever I talk to him about converting, he gives me the same directions every single time (things I've already done, some of them 2-3 times). I'm not sure what to make of this. I know he's a very busy, probably forgetful, and possibly a tad senile old man, but things have been going on in this vein since January, and it's becoming a little frustrating. I'm thinking about contacting the temple's former rabbi, who now lives in Baton Rouge. No doubt that'll be another awkward e-mail to write. But not as awkward as having to ask someone to come to your mikvah.
Grandma is about to sell Aunt Carolyn's old books and CDs, but first, she asked me if I wanted any of them. Haha. Best of Barry Manilow and/or Air Supply, anyone? But I did borrow a few CDs and I'm importing songs one by one into iTunes library right now.