Flavor of the Week: Jewish Boys

jonah-hill-paul-rudd-seth-rogen-jason-segel

Right now, your newsfeed is cluttered with this article shared over, and over–and over–again. The very talented Laura Argintar’s latest contribution to Elite Daily, “Why A Jewish Man Makes The Ideal Husband For Any Girl” is another piece that confirms everything our dying grandmothers taught us when their last words were “marry a mensch who makes his latkes with a Cuisinart and not with a cheese grater.” I love this piece as much as I loved my one pair of Century 21-bought Juicy sweatpants in the seventh grade. However, I thought it needed some FYD pizzaz. Here’s an addendum, reminding us why we always like our fro-yo better when it’s kosher 😉 😉 ;).

1. Jewish boys value the nicer material things, like watches and a good manscape. They–especially the ones from Long Island–are the perfect amount of metrosexual.

2. They will never judge you for eating a bagel. They may judge you for eating everything else, but they definitely respect the bagel. Goyim just don’t get the difference between normal carbs and bagel carbs, you know?

3. Also, they will never judge you for putting smelly ingredients, such as lox AND scallion cream cheese AND onion, on that bagel.

4. They know how to properly party: it isn’t a fiesta unless you’re in a room with a minimum of 300 people. His Bar Mitzvah ain’t no cocktail party. It was the royal wedding, bitches.

5. You’ll never have to worry about Jewish boys not wanting kids. They value the necessity of reproduction to keep the tribe alive.

6. He’ll probably make a lot of money (working in finance, the jewelry business, or any other stereotypical profession you want to throw our way) but he’ll also be super cheap frugal with whatever he makes (aside from your Caribbean vacations).

7. When planning your wedding or the Bar/Bat Mitzvahs of your children, it’ll be super easy to agree on a guest list. Even if you’re from different tri-state area states, you know most of the same people in common, anyway.

8. Say the J-word, and Mom will love him.

9. If he goes bald, he can always just wear a kippah, covering up his lack of hair and making him look like an NJB (nice Jewish boy) at the same time! Utilizing the kippah as a two-for-one deal is something us Jews would love to do, anyway.


Flavor of the Week: Jewish Boys

jonah-hill-paul-rudd-seth-rogen-jason-segel

Right now, your newsfeed is cluttered with this article shared over, and over–and over–again. The very talented Laura Argintar’s latest contribution to Elite Daily, “Why A Jewish Man Makes The Ideal Husband For Any Girl” is another piece that confirms everything our dying grandmothers taught us when their last words were “marry a mensch who makes his latkes with a Cuisinart and not with a cheese grater.” I love this piece as much as I loved my one pair of Century 21-bought Juicy sweatpants in the seventh grade. However, I thought it needed some FYD pizzaz. Here’s an addendum, reminding us why we always like our fro-yo better when it’s kosher 😉 😉 ;).

1. Jewish boys value the nicer material things, like watches and a good manscape. They–especially the ones from Long Island–are the perfect amount of metrosexual.

2. They will never judge you for eating a bagel. They may judge you for eating everything else, but they definitely respect the bagel. Goyim just don’t get the difference between normal carbs and bagel carbs, you know?

3. Also, they will never judge you for putting smelly ingredients, such as lox AND scallion cream cheese AND onion, on that bagel.

4. They know how to properly party: it isn’t a fiesta unless you’re in a room with a minimum of 300 people. His Bar Mitzvah ain’t no cocktail party. It was the royal wedding, bitches.

5. You’ll never have to worry about Jewish boys not wanting kids. They value the necessity of reproduction to keep the tribe alive.

6. He’ll probably make a lot of money (working in finance, the jewelry business, or any other stereotypical profession you want to throw our way) but he’ll also be super cheap frugal with whatever he makes (aside from your Caribbean vacations).

7. When planning your wedding or the Bar/Bat Mitzvahs of your children, it’ll be super easy to agree on a guest list. Even if you’re from different tri-state area states, you know most of the same people in common, anyway.

8. Say the J-word, and Mom will love him.

9. If he goes bald, he can always just wear a kippah, covering up his lack of hair and making him look like an NJB (nice Jewish boy) at the same time! Utilizing the kippah as a two-for-one deal is something us Jews would love to do, anyway.


Flavor of the Week: Thanksgivukkah

I effing love this

I effing love this

First, take note: my laptop does not spell check “Thanksgivukkah.” This holiday shan’t be red squiggly lined. It’s for real, people.

For a curvy Jewish girl/all-American like me, Thanksgivukkah is the best thing to ever happen. I get to eat until I vomit, and once I vomit all over my clothes, I’ll be gifted a new shirt to change into. How clutch is that? It’s like god is repenting me for my sins and giving me a soft cushion to land my fat ass on… do I sense a lil bit of Yom Kippur thrown in here?

If you’re still confused, Thanksgivukkah = Thankgiving + Hanukkah Hannahkkah, both of which happen to fall on the same day this year. It’s like a more generic and Judaically acceptable Chrismukkah. All in favor of an OC reunion to shoot a Thanksgivukkah episode, say “Shalom.” SHALOM, BITCHES.

The irony of Thanksgivukkah is that we have to be thankful for things like family, Buzzfeed as a news source, tempur pedic pillows, frozen yogurt, and our waxing ladies while at the same time allowing ourselves to be spoiled by aunts, uncles, grandparents, parents, and, if you’re lucky, significant others.

A lot of people are literally trying to combine Thanksgiving and Hanukkah by making latke-flavored turkey stuffing or baking gelt-bottomed pumpkin pie. Here are some creative ways I recommend for combining two of my all-time fav holidays:

  • Buy a pet turkey and bobby pin a kippah to its head. Don’t worry about having a wild turkey in your home, it’s totally kosher. Just have it chill with your dog or something.
  • Stuff your turkey (your dinner turkey, not your pet turkey) with Free People gift cards for the whole family to enjoy. This is also known as the low carb option.
  • Only serve Manischewitz. Then again, you should always only serve Manischewitz.
  • Dress code required: come as a pilgrim, a Native American, or a rabbi (with payis).
  • Only cook with butter, because obvi, there’s barely any oil left.
  • Serve pumpkin fro-yo. It’s the perfect combo of “Thanksgiving festive” and “Jewish girl swag.”
  • I’ve mentioned this before, but wear your tallit as a scarf. I’m really into this these days.
  • Use menorahs as mood lighting. It’ll be the chicest Thanksgiving ever.
  • Go in a circle and have everyone say which Judaism-associated sorority or fraternity they are thankful for.
  • Set a place at your table for Elijah. I know, I know, he’s the guy from Passover, but Elijah references in every day life make everything seem more Jewish.

Happy Thanksgivukkah! Don’t forget to hit up the black Friday sales, because every Jew would want you to celebrate a national holiday with a good bargain.

Image via


Flavor of the Week: My Bat Mitzvah

The logo of all logos, which encapsulates my being entirely

The logo of all logos, which entirely encapsulates my being

Mazel tov to me, because as of October 4th, I have officially survived five years of womanhood. Not according to the fact that I had to buy my first bra in fourth grade, but according to the facts of Judaism, it has been half a decade since the marvelous day I made a ten page speech when it was only supposed to be three and I shriveled up my face in response to a sip of Manischewitz just to get the crowd laughing. And by crowd, I mean guests in the synagogue pews.

My Bat Mitzvah was a glorious day. I made everyone wear red to the party, at which I had a hysterical crying fit during my dad’s speech. Whenever I bring up my Bat Mitzvah to someone in attendance, they always mention the crying. It’s horrific, and they always do. Always.

This was my first Facebook profile picture of all time

Taken pre-crying

I was one of those kids that literally liked my service better than my party because I felt like I really ran shit from the bimah. I also have this odd quality about me where my singing voice is significantly better when I’m singing in Hebrew. I obviously don’t sing in Hebrew often, but I always felt the words float out like butter during my Hebrew school days. Not to pat myself on the back, or anything.

Temple photo shoot ❤

Since I love to create holidays out of everything, here’s a quick list of great ways to properly celebrate the anniversary of your Bat or Bar Mitzvah:

  1. Make a toast to it while drinking wine with friends, but more expensive wine than that shit the temple makes you imbibe and classier friends than the kids that broke the ceiling at your BM party. Those are the two key words in life: expensive, and classy.
  2. Tell people that on this day, you became a woman and hope that they realize you’re not talking about your period-iversary (we’ll talk about that holiday another time).
  3. Sing your torah portion to your reflection in the mirror, especially because my your voice always sounds better in Hebrew.
  4. Wear your tallit as a scarf, because it’s ironic and why the hell not.
  5. Hand out the leftover kippahs you’ve been storing in that random drawer. There is always a bald man somewhere in need of a hat!
  6. If you want to feel skinny, don’t try on your party dress… just look at it from afar. But if you have the chutzpah to try, by all means, take a whack at it!
  7. After number 6, look through your photo album and remember that no matter how much fatter you are now, you’re glad to finally have good teeth and clear skin. This is what is feels like to be a woman.

On The Six Degrees Of Separation

There is, most certainly, a recipe for a standard Jewish child:

HYFR

3 years at synagogue or JCC preschool

7-10 summers spent at overnight camp in the Poconos, the Berkshires, or Maine (number of years is flexible)

1 or more additional siblings

Born and raised in a northeastern suburb

Bar or Bat Mitzvah, obviously

Rarely tall or above-average in stature

There are more stereotypes that I could add to the mix, but I figured I should stop before I offend or exclude anyone. I highly considered writing “dark, curly, thick hair,” but I didn’t want to make the few blondes in the tribe feel any less JAPpy or legitimate than the rest of us.

The truth of the matter is that the Jewish culture, as well as other communities and groups of people sharing a common nationality or religion, comes with a lot of tradition. We lead similar lifestyles, and while some of us lean more towards Jack Rogers and others towards Doc Martens (cough cough, me), we still manage to have a lot in common.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to notice this more and more. When we’re younger, we make friends through the connections that our parents have. Now that we’re fully functioning young adults with control not only over our bladders, but also our studies, our social lives, and our luxury cars, the connections we make are truly our own. It is impossible for me to go anywhere–whether it be a party, lunch in town, a charity event, or even a spin class–without speaking to someone that I know at least one person in common with.

This phenomenon is known as the “Six Degrees of Separation.” According to Wikipedia, the most reliable source that feeds the minds of millennials, “Six degrees of separation is the theory that everyone and everything is six or fewer steps away, by way of introduction, from any other person in the world, so that a chain of ‘a friend of a friend’ statements can be made to connect any two people in a maximum of six steps.” As a nice Jewish girl, this theory has been a part of my life ever since I can remember. But still, to this day, it blows my mind.

Is John Mayer Jewish?

My parents met on Halloween in college when a friend in common introduced them on a street corner. It would come as no surprise to me if you told me that your parents were seated next to each other at a wedding, were set up on a blind date, or had at least one mutual friend.

For a while now, I’ve had a theory of my own. What if, to find our husbands or wives, we used the six degrees of separation to figure out who of the opposite sex (or of the same sex 😉 #DOMA) we statistically knew the most amount of people in common with? Then, what would happen?

Well, you would certainly have a lot to speak about, and that’s the obvious answer. But once you’re done discussing how that girl (who went to Hebrew school with both of you) shouldn’t have gotten into “x” college or how that guy (who also went to your pediatrician) needs to realize that no one cares he was a camp Olympics general, how much more would you have to discuss? Would my theory work? Or would we just have more people to gossip about?

To a certain extent, you are who you surround yourself with. If a boy and a girl know a lot of the same people, it could therefore mean that they are similar people themselves. But it could also mean that their paths crossed multiple times amongst the over-the-top Bar Mitzvah parties, the eight summers at camp, the four years at a rah-rah school, the three years in law school, the summer internship at JP Morgan… shall I dare continue?

Is there a difference between what is bashert and what, statistically, is a balanced recipe for a Jewish couple?

When we are done gossiping about the 2,000 people we know in common (2,000 is not an understatement) and we start to let our guards down about who we really are on the inside, will it be a perfect match?