I hereby declare this a thread for people to state a thing they love about being Jewish. Can be a big thing or a small thing; a thing about the religion or the culture or personality/physical traits; a thing usually celebrated or a thing usually scorned.
I love the fact that we dance with a huge scroll (or multiple scrolls) around our prayer space at least once a week, if not more. Like, what a mood.
I love the time we take to appreciate the moment
I love that even if I’m thousands of miles from home, all I have to do is walk into a synagogue’s kitchen on a Friday a couple of hours before sunset and say “Hey, do you need help? Can I cut up some fruit?” and suddenly I’m with family, even though we’ve never met before.
I love that I can physically manifest the holy in to my everyday life- from what I eat to what I wear, to what times in the week I do what things. I love turning the seemingly mundane activities of daily living in to the transcendental.
I love knowing that wherever I am in the world, if i can find other Jews, I’m at home.
I love how we sanctify time, and the cycles of day and night, the moon, and our trip around the sun.
I love how arguing a point and being open to new views is absolutely encouraged and deeply ingrained in our culture
Someone in the Fort Collins Area owes me an explanation
So, I’m up at my parent’s house to return the power tools I borrowed and say hi, and I’m out walking the dogs. Got a leash in each hand, dual-weilding doggos. It’s a bit tricky but they’re used to this and don’t tangle as much and I’m the only person with good enough knees to stop them when they see snackable wildlife.
Anyway, we’re on the North end of the Poudre River trail, by overland, you know where that long bridge is? And I’m disposing of dog waste right before the bridge like a responsible adult when I hear what sounds like an ice cream truck playing “Yankee Doodle” at roughly five times the speed it’s normally played at and see the following:
There is a gentleman rapidly approaching our location who is also dual-weilding doggos, but in his case he’s got a pair of malamutes barreling down the trail at full Iditarod speed, clearly having the time of their lives. They’re hauling thier human behind them, whom I will describe from the top down:
He’s wearing a helmet, which is the only sensible thing going on here. He also has a magnificent handlebar mustache that is flapping joyously in the unusual October rain. He’s wearing a full body Spandex suit of such intensely clashing colors that is physically hurt to look at, but most importantly
He is riding
A unicycle.
It’s not a normal unicycle either this gentleman is towering over us mortals in an unreasonably massive unicycle, like he’d lost the back end of a penny farthing and decided that was an acceptable means of transportation. I see a device attached to the seat that looks like a pedal-powered music box which explains why my ears are being assaulted with the speed core rendition of Yankee Fucking Doodle. I do not see brakes.
I realize I have half a second to grab my own dogs before they decide to join or topple this strange Traveller from wherever Dr.Seuss books are set. I gather each animal under my arms and stand there with a collective hundred pounds of writhing canine under my armpits as the malamutes pick of speed and as they pass the gentleman cheerfully bellows something at me that I don’t hear because Arwen has already partially broken my hold and is attempting to climb on my head, presumably to launch herself at him.
And then he is gone.
We stand there, staring bewildered in the direction of his last known trajectory, listening as speedcore Yankee Doodle fades into the distance. Even after it is gone I still wait, because the trail ends in half a mile from here and I expect to here a crash, possibly even see a fire explosion. But nothing comes, only the sound of October rain and confused dogs.
So if you know of this gentleman and if he’s still alive/on the material plane, can you ask him something for me?
How the hell does he STOP?
Did you ever find out?
This happened an hour ago. I’ve barely had time to put the kettle on and tell y’all.
Mate I was BORN in Colorado, raised near the Realm of the Dread Corn Gods, and I have no idea what in the good god damn you just encountered, but they are not to be trifled with.
1. According to the notes, apparently you BACKPEDAL to make Unicycles stop, and this giant kind is called “Giraffe”, and you dismount it by… falling forwards while holding onto the seat. So I susspose he could backpedal and then make an acrobatics check to land on his feet when the dogs Keep Going. Malamutes, even really well-trained ones, are had to slow from a gallop and from that point the trail ends fairly shortly.
2.
@savethecanteloupe I’m so glad somebody knows who this is. Tell him if he wants to get involved in local protest theater I can make introductions for him.
Want to have one really nice set of plates and silverware for company and Thanksgiving.
Want to be able to buy a new outfit and a good bra at least a couple times a year.
Want to be able to give “just because” gifts.
Want to burn incense and candles in my home daily, and have nice soaps.
Want to be able to donate to charity frequently and without worry.
Want to buy hardcover books to read and put on a shelf for my kids to read someday.
Want to have candies in bowls for people who visit.
Want to be able to take my young siblings and cousins to a movie and let them get the big popcorn they won’t finish, because there’s magic in just having it.
Want to have a linen closet or at least a linen shelf.
Want to go see live local theater several times a year.
Want to have a bottle of wine or champagne in the house for when I suddenly need to celebrate.
Want to have a kitchen with basic baking supplies so I can bake bread on the weekend, and pies for special occasions.
I just want to be comfy.
That is my definition of ‘wealth’, as contrasted with ‘excess’. As my mother in law put it – if I can see a little something in a store that I know a friend would love, and just BUY it for them without having to worry about whether I can afford it in the budget, that means I’m well off. And that? That is what I want.
Story concept: an orphanage/group home for chosen ones whose families were killed by ~destiny~
It’s run by a chosen heroine whose adventure was 2 decades ago and the sweet team-mom healer from her team, who she has since married.
It’s mostly trope comedy with moments of real emotion, here are some ideas for kids:
—two teenaged boys who WERE barreling towards a tragic rivalry that ends in one of them falling to darkness… until one of them confessed that he was just trying to show off because he has a crush on the other one. They’re now dating and the comedy comes from the universe CONSTANTLY trying to get them to fight and failing.
—an eight year old who keeps tattling on the demons who are whispering to her and then getting into sibling fights with them
—a brooding, edgy fire-wielding boy and a brooding, edgy fire-wielding girl who can’t figure out which mystical signs belong to who
—like six kids named Hope who go by names like “Pink Hope”, “Hope the second” and “I’ve been told I’m not allowed to shorten my name to ‘Ho’ so I will now be going by Dick just to spite them”
IDK if I’m going to write this but it’s fun to worldbuild so here’s some more!
The two fire kids have a big age gap, with the girl being 10 and the boy being 17. They spend so much time together trying to untangle their destinies that they wind up developing a brother-sister relationship. The girl is one of the Hopes and the boy’s name is Fox, which results in the following exchange being commonplace.
A: so then Hope—
B: which Hope?
A: oh, baby fox.
Oh, character consolidation idea: Fox is also one of the boys who dodged a fatal rivalry, obviously being the ‘tempted to the dark side’ half of the equation. His full name is Foxglove, and his boyfriend’s name is Raven. Raven is the one to confess and Fox was so shocked he needed to sit down for like 5 minutes to re-evaluate his entire perspective on reality.
Fox is the EPITOME of “oh shit, I didn’t hate him, I was just gay.”
Fox two years ago: Whenever he laughs I get all sweaty and agitated, and that stupid ‘oh look at me I’m so handsome’ grin is so obnoxious it bothers me for hours after I have talk to the guy! God, Raven’s the worst.
Fox now: yeah, turns out the only thing I hated about Raven is that he wasn’t kissing me right that second
The owner’s wife is a subversion on the “cute, sweet, gentle healer love interest who dies in act 2” trope, and her name is Maribelle. She’s just under five feet tall and built like somebody replaced all her bones with toothpicks— she’s TINY.
She is also, as the villain discovered in spectacularly violent fashion when he kidnapped her, the most dangerous member of the party by far.
Because she ISN’T a cleric and she wasn’t using light magic at all. She uses raw magic, which is a rare talent for humans because it’s hard to control and tends to destroy the weirder before their enemies. Maribelle’s love for her friends was LITERALLY the source of her healing magic, because she uses her emotions to shape her spells.
On the other side of that, the emotions associated with trapping her and threatening to kill her girlfriend? She WRECKED him and took the whole hideout down in the process.
OKAY I named the woman who runs the place, her name is Summer!
A lot of people just know her as “the farner’s daughter” because her particular journey of heroics started with a prophecy that said a farmer’s eldest daughter would bring about the death of the tyrannical king. Which, uh, she did, except that it was Maribelle who killed the guy in Summer’s defense.
small boob privilege is so real like…. bralettes… underboob tattoos… going braless?? not looking hyper sexual at all times ???? running comfortably? i could go on
Y’all don’t know how many clothes y’all can wear that we have to go ‘nope, look like a hooker’ when we try them on
DarkestElemental616 