<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457</id><updated>2011-10-04T17:02:57.562-04:00</updated><category term='Random Thoughts'/><category term='Me Time'/><category term='RemembeRED'/><category term='Jewish Holidays'/><category term='Mom Moments'/><title type='text'>Kvell Corner</title><subtitle type='html'>A blog dedicated to kvell-ing more and kvetch-ing less.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>60</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-648482932386151319</id><published>2011-06-10T07:55:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-10T09:01:20.479-04:00</updated><title type='text'>From A Blue Shirt</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2J3BrIdRfGU/TfIF0MdtC2I/AAAAAAAAAG0/8hlIHy6Qo08/s1600/shirt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2J3BrIdRfGU/TfIF0MdtC2I/AAAAAAAAAG0/8hlIHy6Qo08/s1600/shirt.jpg" t8="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Sitting on the couch one day&lt;br /&gt;Waiting to be put away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom is doing several tasks.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How many times does she need to ask?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids run past it, sit on it too&lt;br /&gt;Will I sit here past day two?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom is doing several tasks.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #a64d79;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;How many times does she need to ask?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Putting me away would bring her such glee&lt;br /&gt;And yet, I sit here on day three.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Mom is doing several tasks.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: magenta;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;How many times does she need to ask?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad to say that on day four&lt;br /&gt;Someone&amp;nbsp;moves me to the floor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;MOM IS DOING SEVERAL TASKS!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;HOW MANY TIMES DOES SHE NEED TO ASK?!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Thankfully, on day five&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see the closet, I&amp;nbsp;have arrived!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Mom is doing several tasks. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;FINALLY, there was no more need to ask. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-648482932386151319?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/648482932386151319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/06/from-blue-shirt.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/648482932386151319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/648482932386151319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/06/from-blue-shirt.html' title='From A Blue Shirt'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2J3BrIdRfGU/TfIF0MdtC2I/AAAAAAAAAG0/8hlIHy6Qo08/s72-c/shirt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-1520390139387313202</id><published>2011-06-08T14:07:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-08T14:10:42.616-04:00</updated><title type='text'>6 Hours Off</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MFHSa1wgHk0/Te-5JmAoxvI/AAAAAAAAAGw/PcmyDYzSvZk/s1600/out+of+time+clock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MFHSa1wgHk0/Te-5JmAoxvI/AAAAAAAAAGw/PcmyDYzSvZk/s1600/out+of+time+clock.jpg" t8="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Today is the holiday&amp;nbsp;of Shavuot&amp;nbsp;which is when Moses gets the Ten Commandments and the Torah and I get the day&amp;nbsp;off.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six and a half hours to myself.&amp;nbsp; One would think that this is a gold mine of time, but it really isn't. My to-do list is a mile long and it would take twice the amount of time to get through half of the list. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 8:30 am, I brought the kids to school and then came home to "clean up." This&amp;nbsp;entailed&amp;nbsp;folding&amp;nbsp;and putting away 3 loads of laundry while watching the movie, Cocktail.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The movie ended at 9:50 am.&amp;nbsp; I make my way out the door to go to the&amp;nbsp;mall where I had a gift card. Prior to getting on the highway, I stopped to fill my gas tank.&amp;nbsp; I was approached by a young man with a white t-shirt that read U.S. Beef. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Do you like steak? I finished delivering my orders and I have a lot left over. I'll sell it to you for half price right out of my truck," he says.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"We don't eat a lot of steak," I told him.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Not giving up, he asked me a follow up question.&amp;nbsp; "Do you like seafood?"&amp;nbsp; (Isn't this a pick up line from A Few Good Men?). "I have seafood too. I'll give that to you for 1/2 price.&amp;nbsp; Are you headed home? You could drop&amp;nbsp;it off before you go out again."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I like seafood, I don't particularly like to buy it out of the back of someone's truck. I politely told him&amp;nbsp;no and got back in my car before he offered me some chicken breasts. (10:20 am)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I made it to the mall where I used my gift card to buy a pair of sunglasses. I also picked up&amp;nbsp;some shorts before heading back home. (12 noon).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way back&amp;nbsp;home, I called the salon to see if I could get my&amp;nbsp;eyebrows&amp;nbsp;done. She said I&amp;nbsp;could come in at 12:45, which left me time to pick up something to eat.&amp;nbsp; I pulled into a shopping center&amp;nbsp;to go to Subway - which turned out to be&amp;nbsp;closed.&amp;nbsp; The&amp;nbsp;Saladworks next door was&amp;nbsp;packed and there was a woman in line who was&amp;nbsp;ordering for 5 of her fellow co-workers.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp;waited a while, but then decided that pizza&amp;nbsp;was the better solution. (12:40).&amp;nbsp; I pulled into the parking lot of the salon at 12:45 pm and quickly ate my pizza before going in.&amp;nbsp;Then, I&amp;nbsp;made it home by 1:15. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As it is customary to&amp;nbsp;observe this holiday with a dairy treat,&amp;nbsp;I enjoyed a bowl of&amp;nbsp;frozen yogurt.&amp;nbsp;At 1:30, I sat down to write&amp;nbsp;my&amp;nbsp;blog post for the day (ta-da!).&amp;nbsp; It is now 2:06 pm. The kids come&amp;nbsp;home from school soon. I have an hour and a half to "clean up." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what is on&amp;nbsp;tv.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-1520390139387313202?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/1520390139387313202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/06/6-hours-off.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/1520390139387313202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/1520390139387313202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/06/6-hours-off.html' title='6 Hours Off'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MFHSa1wgHk0/Te-5JmAoxvI/AAAAAAAAAGw/PcmyDYzSvZk/s72-c/out+of+time+clock.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-3331039405463865207</id><published>2011-06-07T07:02:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-07T07:16:50.155-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Donut Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Oh, I walks into a beanery to get something to eat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For I was so hungry, from my head to my feet&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So, I picks up a donut and I wipes off the grease&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And I hand the lady girl a five cent piece.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She looks at the nickel and she looks at me&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And she says, “Hey Lady, can’t you plainly see,”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“There’s a hole in the nickel and it’s running right through.”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Says I, “there’s a hole in the donut too!”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;My Grandmom Sara sang us &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #20124d;"&gt;The Donut Song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; when we were little. I can still remember the expressions on her face. She sang it in her own unique way - with a little bit of a Jewish accent and a lot of emphasis in all of the right places. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Today, there are so many things that remind me of her. I can't look at a can of Aqua Net without thinking of her or walk through Macy's and see the brand of clothes she liked. If My Fair Lady is on the television, I watch it and think of her.&amp;nbsp; Her sweet and sour meatballs were so delicious!&amp;nbsp; In the last years of her life, she lived in my bedroom in my childhood home. When I go home to visit, I love to look through her things that she left behind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-azRotHbiveY/Te4EvWuj1DI/AAAAAAAAAGs/T7kiJh_tiGM/s1600/G.+Sara+%2526+Jenna.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150px" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-azRotHbiveY/Te4EvWuj1DI/AAAAAAAAAGs/T7kiJh_tiGM/s200/G.+Sara+%2526+Jenna.JPG" t8="true" width="200px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;Almost thirty years after Grandmom Sara sang that song to me - I placed my baby girl in her arms. I listened as she sang The Donut Song to her first great-granddaughter. I only wish she could have lived long enough for my daughter to learn the song by heart - with the Jewish accent and the emphasis in all of the right places. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Frym0GetOBc/TZtC81LMs3I/AAAAAAAAAFE/qllpGqmW0V4/s1600/rememberedbutton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Frym0GetOBc/TZtC81LMs3I/AAAAAAAAAFE/qllpGqmW0V4/s1600/rememberedbutton.jpg" t8="true" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This week's memoir prompt asked you to dig deep to find what, from your childhood, you still know from heart. This is dedicated to my Grandmom Sara - by heart, in my heart - always.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-3331039405463865207?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/3331039405463865207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/06/donut-song.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3331039405463865207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3331039405463865207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/06/donut-song.html' title='The Donut Song'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-azRotHbiveY/Te4EvWuj1DI/AAAAAAAAAGs/T7kiJh_tiGM/s72-c/G.+Sara+%2526+Jenna.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-5232873404249375650</id><published>2011-06-03T06:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T06:53:53.363-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Lazy According to God's Will</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dco6ZbLngBY/TdZ-vl3gkXI/AAAAAAAAAGI/Z7p4qfSak3g/s1600/shabbat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200px" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dco6ZbLngBY/TdZ-vl3gkXI/AAAAAAAAAGI/Z7p4qfSak3g/s200/shabbat.jpg" width="171px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;This week's prompt from &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.thereddressclub.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Red Dress Club&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; insists that we continue with the 7 Deadly Sins. This week's sin is Sloth. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have much to say about spiritual apathy because I haven't experienced it myself.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Every day, I have the opportunity to "do Jewish" because of my work in the Jewish community. &amp;nbsp;I do this&amp;nbsp;through my&amp;nbsp;writing, teaching, connecting and basically being a part of this community. I feel blessed by the&amp;nbsp;tasks that I do which&amp;nbsp;brings me&amp;nbsp;great satisfaction both personally and professionally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Jewish faith,&amp;nbsp;G-d recognizes our hard work and gives us a day off.&amp;nbsp; It's called &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shabbat"&gt;Shabbat&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp;It says in Genesis&amp;nbsp;that G-d created the heavens and the earth in six days and he&amp;nbsp;rested on the seventh day.&amp;nbsp; So, why shouldn't we do the same?&amp;nbsp; Who are we to question this great gift that G-d has bestowed upon us. In my opinion, it would be more of a sin to return it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Shabbat, Jews are not permitted to work.&amp;nbsp; In Jerusalem, shops are closed for business and there are no cars on the street.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Jews around the world use this day to spend&amp;nbsp;time with our families and reflect on the week gone by.&amp;nbsp; We attend services,&amp;nbsp;sing, recite blessings, enjoy&amp;nbsp;meals together and some (well-deserved) downtime from all of the&amp;nbsp;chaos. We are encouraged to have relations with our spouses and sleep a little longer than usual. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a holy day for spiritual growth and&amp;nbsp;it is not at all apathetic.&amp;nbsp; In fact, it is the opposite.&amp;nbsp; Shabbat gives us permission&amp;nbsp;to take some time for ourselves and&amp;nbsp;appreciate our&amp;nbsp;world and&amp;nbsp;all of its wonders.&amp;nbsp;I consider it one of the greatest gifts of my faith and I would never think of giving it back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesn't make me lazy either. In fact, it makes me a better person - each and every week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When it is time for the week to begin again - we say &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Shavua Tov&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;to wish someone a good coming week. We know that we are well-prepared for the week ahead and look forward to it.&amp;nbsp; And we know that Shabbat is the gift that keeps on giving and in six days (G-d willing!)&amp;nbsp;we will&amp;nbsp;unwrap it&amp;nbsp;again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-5232873404249375650?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5232873404249375650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/be-lazy-according-to-gods-will.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/5232873404249375650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/5232873404249375650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/be-lazy-according-to-gods-will.html' title='Be Lazy According to God&apos;s Will'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Dco6ZbLngBY/TdZ-vl3gkXI/AAAAAAAAAGI/Z7p4qfSak3g/s72-c/shabbat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-8701379626203445843</id><published>2011-06-02T08:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-03T13:33:11.722-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Parent Olympics</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-npl9xIvBKzw/TeeBfKl8Q7I/AAAAAAAAAGY/VTbsxwm6Wm8/s1600/olympic+rings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-npl9xIvBKzw/TeeBfKl8Q7I/AAAAAAAAAGY/VTbsxwm6Wm8/s1600/olympic+rings.jpg" t8="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This weekend was the unofficial beginning of summer and the opening ceremony to what I like to refer to as the &lt;strong&gt;Parent Olympics&lt;/strong&gt;. It happens every June.&amp;nbsp; The school year starts to come to a close. There is less homework and&amp;nbsp;yet a frenzy of activities to cram into the 3 weeks that are left.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no training for this. Many of the competitors are amateurs, like me. There are a few ringers who have played the game for so long that they have turned pro.&amp;nbsp; These are the moms who&amp;nbsp;are prepared&amp;nbsp;for any circumstance&amp;nbsp;with band-aids and wipes at an arms length and water bottles and treats for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, there is me.&amp;nbsp; I've aced the &lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jump start to the library &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;which is the pre-qualifying event to the much more difficult ones. Yesterday, I&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;brought the school's summer reading list to the library&amp;nbsp;and picked up&amp;nbsp;the books that my kids selected.&amp;nbsp; Extra points are awarded for every book they actually finish this summer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ranked&amp;nbsp;2nd to last&amp;nbsp;place in the&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;camp health forms sprint. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;thought I sent&amp;nbsp;all of the forms in - 5&amp;nbsp;for each kid = 10 forms!&amp;nbsp; Unfortunately, I&amp;nbsp;found the one form&amp;nbsp;that was left&amp;nbsp;behind and sent it out 3 days later - making me fall to almost last place. (I'm&amp;nbsp;hoping that&amp;nbsp;there is someone out there who hasn't sent ANY of their forms in yet). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-scveO8uM2Dg/TefG_gklfII/AAAAAAAAAGc/GiOHK_OQeQs/s1600/lotion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-scveO8uM2Dg/TefG_gklfII/AAAAAAAAAGc/GiOHK_OQeQs/s1600/lotion.jpg" t8="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;In the &lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;suntan&amp;nbsp;lotion meet&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, I've already purchased&amp;nbsp;4 spray bottles at $7 a pop and one tube of sunscreen for the face.&amp;nbsp; One bottle is almost empty and another is&amp;nbsp;lost.&amp;nbsp; The two bottles that I bought on sale at Kmart have pumps that do not work. Add two impatient kids who hate putting on suntan lotion and I was almost&amp;nbsp;ready to forfeit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&amp;nbsp;think I will do well in the &lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;end-of-the-school-year decathalon&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&amp;nbsp; This comes out to&amp;nbsp;1 talent show,&amp;nbsp;2 picnics, 2 class parties,&amp;nbsp;1 games day,&amp;nbsp;3 baseball games&amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;&amp;nbsp;teacher gifts. I'm a master juggler which&amp;nbsp;comes in handy for this competition. Oh, and did I mention that I simultaneously have to do&amp;nbsp;numerous loads of laundry and pack for vacation? Do I get a special award or honorable mention for this?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B_YazVJbAvw/TefHHeUUeHI/AAAAAAAAAGg/T-nbwNWCDDM/s1600/hoops.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-B_YazVJbAvw/TefHHeUUeHI/AAAAAAAAAGg/T-nbwNWCDDM/s1600/hoops.jpg" t8="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My biggest challenge is the &lt;span style="color: #741b47;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;jumping through hoops relay&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; when I have to tag team with my&amp;nbsp;family to make sure we have all the right clothes and the right labels on the clothes.&amp;nbsp;Summer activities need to be put&amp;nbsp;on&amp;nbsp;different calendars.&amp;nbsp;The right equipment for each&amp;nbsp;activity needs to be purchased and constantly checked for repairs or replacements. I just hope that one of us remembers which day we are supposed to bring the team snacks.&amp;nbsp; The family is just about&amp;nbsp;ready for the relay (rat) race&amp;nbsp;- I&amp;nbsp;just have to work on my dismount.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of the summer, I&amp;nbsp;hope to stand at the top of the podium&amp;nbsp;cleared of&amp;nbsp;any performance enhancing drugs in my system (with the exception of coffee),&amp;nbsp;a few good stories and great memories.&amp;nbsp; I'll happily accept&amp;nbsp;my medals&amp;nbsp;and lead the torch&amp;nbsp;towards the first day of school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy (almost) Summer!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-8701379626203445843?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/8701379626203445843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/06/parent-olympics.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8701379626203445843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8701379626203445843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/06/parent-olympics.html' title='Parent Olympics'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-npl9xIvBKzw/TeeBfKl8Q7I/AAAAAAAAAGY/VTbsxwm6Wm8/s72-c/olympic+rings.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-2941809558391066191</id><published>2011-05-31T11:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-31T11:51:39.046-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Mr. Rogers Neighborhood</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Tw5LK1Jrbg/TeUDqGjKjxI/AAAAAAAAAGU/UoybnBRkR1w/s1600/mister-rogers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="305" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Tw5LK1Jrbg/TeUDqGjKjxI/AAAAAAAAAGU/UoybnBRkR1w/s320/mister-rogers.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Boston University, 1992&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Commencement Speaker: Mr. Rogers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, Mr. Rogers.&amp;nbsp; I could hardly contain my excitement sitting out in the quad area of Boston University's main campus. It was a hot day in May at my cousin's graduation ceremony.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Mr. Rogers&amp;nbsp;created such a buzz in this big gathering. Everyone couldn't stop talking about him.&amp;nbsp; Before the ceremony began, we all shared our favorite memory of his tv show.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp;grew up with&amp;nbsp;Mr. Rogers Neighborhood, as I'm sure a good many of my readers did.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;The show didn't have all the bells &amp;amp; whistles of The Electric Company and no&amp;nbsp;Big Bird from Sesame Street.&amp;nbsp; But, it was just as special.&amp;nbsp; As a kid, I wanted so badly to ride the trolley, visit the Land of Make Believe and meet Prince Tuesday&amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;&amp;nbsp;King Friday.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Rogers started his address by commenting what a beautiful day it was and then he gave us our cue&amp;nbsp;to sing along.&amp;nbsp; All of us&amp;nbsp;- maybe 4,000 or so in total from different parts of the world - singing&amp;nbsp;in unison&amp;nbsp;-&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood. A beautiful day for a neighbor. Won't you be mine? Could you be mine?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I still get goosebumps thinking about that moment.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gave a beautiful commencement speech asking us to remember those who believed in us and brought us to where we are now.&amp;nbsp; He advised the Class of 1992 and their family &amp;amp; friends that everything is not going to go as planned.&amp;nbsp; He said that it is our attitude that determines our altitude in life. I loved that.&amp;nbsp; It is so true.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end, he treated us to one final song that is a favorite of mine:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;"&lt;em&gt;It's you I like&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's not the things you wear.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's not the way you do your hair&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But it's you I like.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The way you are right now&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The way down deep inside you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Not the things that hide you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Not your caps and gowns,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;They're just beside you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But it's you I like.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Every part of you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Your skin, your eyes, your feelings&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Whether old or new.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I hope that you remember&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Even when you're feeling blue.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That it's you I like,&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's you, yourself&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's you I like."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read someplace that&amp;nbsp;the message in that song was that you don't have to do anything sensational for people to love you.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;In my blog today,&amp;nbsp;I'd like to embrace my hippy dippy &amp;nbsp;"Free to Be You And Me" past and say&amp;nbsp;- it was Mr. Rogers that&amp;nbsp;I liked and a graduation that I will always remember. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Frym0GetOBc/TZtC81LMs3I/AAAAAAAAAFE/qllpGqmW0V4/s1600/rememberedbutton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Frym0GetOBc/TZtC81LMs3I/AAAAAAAAAFE/qllpGqmW0V4/s1600/rememberedbutton.jpg" t8="true" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This week we were asked&amp;nbsp;to think about graduation. It didn't have to be&amp;nbsp;mine and it didn't have to be high school. It&amp;nbsp;had to be non-fiction, so you know this is true. I almost wrote about the graduation that I attended at Brown University and we saw Ringo Starr, Jane Fonda&amp;nbsp;and Ted Turner on the same day.&amp;nbsp; It was a tough choice, but this story is much more meaningful to me. Concrit welcome.&lt;/em&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-2941809558391066191?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2941809558391066191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/mr-rogers-neighborhood.html#comment-form' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2941809558391066191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2941809558391066191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/mr-rogers-neighborhood.html' title='Mr. Rogers Neighborhood'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Tw5LK1Jrbg/TeUDqGjKjxI/AAAAAAAAAGU/UoybnBRkR1w/s72-c/mister-rogers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-8977651582384659575</id><published>2011-05-27T10:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-27T14:10:39.192-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Saying Goodbye</title><content type='html'>This was absolutely the last time that I would let her put me down.&amp;nbsp; We were best friends, roomates and soul sisters. Or so I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started out&amp;nbsp;with her picking on me for silly things.&amp;nbsp;Then she would pick on me for not so silly things that just annoyed her for reasons I did not understand.&amp;nbsp; She never let her guard down and&amp;nbsp;always said what was on her mind.&amp;nbsp; I took her everywhere because she didn't have a car or a license.&amp;nbsp; I waited around for her to finish work, class, etc.&amp;nbsp; I was a good friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We would talk late into the night about how we would raise our kids in the same neighborhood someday&amp;nbsp;and how cool it would be to vacation together.&amp;nbsp; But the next morning, I would do something to draw&amp;nbsp;out her mean streak once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember one Saturday when we were walking back from the grocery store.&amp;nbsp;I paid for my share, but didn't get the right change back.&amp;nbsp; She&amp;nbsp;laughed at the thought of my&amp;nbsp;wanting to be a teacher and my inability to&amp;nbsp;make change.&amp;nbsp; I doubted myself for a minute, but then I knew that something was not right.&amp;nbsp; When I spoke up and told her that I gave her two $20 dollar bills, she&amp;nbsp;admitted that she didn't realize how much I gave in the first place. And then, she&amp;nbsp;didn't say another word about it - not even an apology.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But,&amp;nbsp;here was the last straw. &amp;nbsp;I visited her at her parent's home to tell her about&amp;nbsp;this new guy that I met (who&amp;nbsp;I would later marry).&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;She made an off-the-cuff&amp;nbsp;remark that&amp;nbsp;left me speechless.&amp;nbsp;This time it was in front of others.&amp;nbsp; I had enough.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp;asked her why she constantly put me down. I told her that I didn't want to introduce her to him, if this was the way she was going to treat me.&amp;nbsp; I was suddenly tired of the mind games and it was then that I realized that we were no longer friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left the house quickly trying to hide my tears. As I&amp;nbsp;walked to my&amp;nbsp;car,&amp;nbsp;I heard the screen door open behind me.&amp;nbsp; She yelled out,&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;"I know that you will&amp;nbsp;call&amp;nbsp;me back when&amp;nbsp;you&amp;nbsp;are less upset. I'll talk to you later."&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp; She was wrong.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a border="0" href="http://thereddressclub.blogspot.com/" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i873.photobucket.com/albums/ab294/eclay03/redwritinghood.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This week we asked you to write a post beginning with the words, "This was absolutely the last time" and ending with "She was wrong."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-8977651582384659575?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/8977651582384659575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/saying-goodbye.html#comment-form' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8977651582384659575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8977651582384659575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/saying-goodbye.html' title='Saying Goodbye'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-9143184467300767493</id><published>2011-05-27T07:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-27T07:30:43.899-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Retiree or Rock Star?!</title><content type='html'>I'm still on such a high from last night's retirement dinner for my dad.&amp;nbsp; I've decided that he is the Mick Jagger of teachers without the drugs and the lips.&amp;nbsp; While some teachers (and rock stars) hang up their&amp;nbsp;guitars&amp;nbsp;- or put away their red pens -&amp;nbsp;at 30, 35 or 40 years of playing, my dad hung on for a record &lt;strong&gt;44 years&lt;/strong&gt;!&amp;nbsp; I believe that is a record in the school district. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The attendees at the dinner were like groupies at a rock concert.&amp;nbsp; Everyone wanted to shake his hand. Twenty-somethings in sundresses wore crazy hats in his honor.&amp;nbsp; They yelled out his name to get his attention.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Fellow teachers and administrators&amp;nbsp;riled him about his lack of technology skills,&amp;nbsp;but praised him for his ability to teach, connect with students and teachers&amp;nbsp;and make a difference.&amp;nbsp; His team of teachers spent&amp;nbsp;numerous hours&amp;nbsp;on Photoshop placing him with famous people on Mount Rushmore and calling him King Krant (in a King Tut head-dress).&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It ended with a montage of&amp;nbsp;yearbook photos and other memories to the classic song by Kenny Rogers&amp;nbsp;"&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYlWLK2332w"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;Through the Years&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;."&amp;nbsp;There was not a dry eye at our table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end, there was a standing ovation -&amp;nbsp;like an audience who won't go home&amp;nbsp;waiting an encore performance.&amp;nbsp; The only thing that was missing were the cigarette lighters.&amp;nbsp; And when it is was all over, you felt like "Elvis" had left the building.&amp;nbsp; Rock on, Dad. Rock on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-9143184467300767493?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/9143184467300767493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/retiree-or-rock-star.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/9143184467300767493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/9143184467300767493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/retiree-or-rock-star.html' title='Retiree or Rock Star?!'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-8543079620779741426</id><published>2011-05-26T06:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-26T06:38:26.839-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Best Teacher I Never Had</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TawCfKIwdgQ/Td4oPU2c4mI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/yD_srmOuHMQ/s1600/DSC_1173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="133px" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TawCfKIwdgQ/Td4oPU2c4mI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/yD_srmOuHMQ/s200/DSC_1173.JPG" t8="true" width="200px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;A great teacher is retiring&amp;nbsp;this year&amp;nbsp;after working 44 years in the Washington Township School District.&amp;nbsp;Everyone knows him as Mr. Krant - to me he has always been my dad.&amp;nbsp; While&amp;nbsp;I never had him in the classroom, he has always been my teacher.&amp;nbsp;Here are some of the great things I learned from him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Make sure there is always make sure there is film in the camera&lt;/strong&gt; (or loosely translated for today's standards -&amp;nbsp;make sure the camera is always charged) so that when you are inspired by the nature that surrounds you and want to capture the Kodak moment&amp;nbsp;- you will be prepared.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;You don't have to go far to find the best things in life&lt;/strong&gt; - For example, no one has better donuts than Pitman Bakery - they are better than Dunkin or Krispy Kreme - so&amp;nbsp; always support your local community.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Music willl lift your spirits in any situation&lt;/strong&gt; - Whether you are listening to a good rock and roll tune from the 1950's and 1960's during a long car ride, a showtune that you heard a zillion times or listing 100 songs about rain while&amp;nbsp;sitting through a thunderstorm - you are guaranteed to feel much better.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Honesty is the best policy&lt;/strong&gt; - All the time! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;He taught me to tie my shoes, blow my nose, make change, carry "mad money" on dates, and countless other things. He stands by me every day showing his love and how proud and supportive he is in all that I do.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Thanks Dad for&amp;nbsp;being&amp;nbsp;one of my greatest teachers!&amp;nbsp;Happy Retirement! Enjoy yourself as a student of the world. I'm look forward to it! (By the way, when are you available to babysit?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-8543079620779741426?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/8543079620779741426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/best-teacher-i-never-had.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8543079620779741426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8543079620779741426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/best-teacher-i-never-had.html' title='The Best Teacher I Never Had'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TawCfKIwdgQ/Td4oPU2c4mI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/yD_srmOuHMQ/s72-c/DSC_1173.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-808659517259295833</id><published>2011-05-23T21:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-24T06:57:29.951-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Trivial Pursuits</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WtJLdYVtTJg/TdsC-yMVIqI/AAAAAAAAAGM/A303ZpHbsbo/s1600/220px-Trivialpursuit_Token.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200px" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WtJLdYVtTJg/TdsC-yMVIqI/AAAAAAAAAGM/A303ZpHbsbo/s200/220px-Trivialpursuit_Token.jpg" width="200px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I come from a family of trivia buffs.&amp;nbsp; My dad has a library of books&amp;nbsp;about film, music, history and just about everything&amp;nbsp; from the 50's &amp;amp; 60's. If you go into&amp;nbsp;the downstairs bathroom of&amp;nbsp;the house I grew up in, you&amp;nbsp;are sure to find several&amp;nbsp;editions of &lt;a href="http://bathroomreader.com/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;Uncle John's Bathroom Reader&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;When nature called, we made good use of the time to&amp;nbsp;brush up&amp;nbsp;on&amp;nbsp;little known facts&amp;nbsp;about&amp;nbsp;James Bond, The Wizard of Oz &amp;amp; little known tidbits about any of the 50 states.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom is also a&amp;nbsp;music lover - especially when it comes to show tunes. She can name that tune (and the show it came from) in 6 notes. Ask her to sing something from Carousel, Camelot or Chicago and she will not disappoint you.&amp;nbsp; She can also remember movie stars, quotes and details about musicals and films that she has watched over her lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, the apple does not fall far from the tree.&amp;nbsp; My sister and I are&amp;nbsp;Generation X'ers who can name all the members of the Brat Pack and tell you which movies they&amp;nbsp;starred in.&amp;nbsp;We can quote&amp;nbsp;"Airplane"&amp;nbsp;and our favorite movie,&amp;nbsp;"The Sure Thing."&amp;nbsp; We know who shot J.R. We can identify a Brady Bunch episode in less than 2 minutes and we know all the words to the theme song from&amp;nbsp;"&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k_GxXRbSFDg"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;The Facts of Life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So needless to say,&amp;nbsp;a love of trivia games run deep in our family. On any given night at 7 pm, you&amp;nbsp;could find us in front of the TV watching&amp;nbsp;Jeopardy.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It was the only tv show that we could watch instead of&amp;nbsp;doing the dishes.&amp;nbsp; Dad would get so many questions correct and we would just sit there in amazement.&amp;nbsp; On rare occasions, we&amp;nbsp;would&amp;nbsp;beat him to the punch and run a category or two.&amp;nbsp; &lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'll take "80's movies" for 200, Alex.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is no surprise that&amp;nbsp;our family went wild when&amp;nbsp;Trivial Pursuit came out in&amp;nbsp;1981.&amp;nbsp; My sister and I had no chance of&amp;nbsp;ever&amp;nbsp;beating our&amp;nbsp;parents in a game, but&amp;nbsp;we sure did try.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We had lots of laughs around the kitchen table&amp;nbsp;skipping the Canadian questions and demanding that the answer given was exactly what was written on the card.&amp;nbsp; It wasn't until 1984 - when&amp;nbsp;Parker&amp;nbsp;Brothers&amp;nbsp;came out with a Young Player's Edition&amp;nbsp;- that we had a chance at winning&amp;nbsp;a game or two.&amp;nbsp; On long car rides, we would bring the cards with us to quiz each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When&amp;nbsp;one of the&amp;nbsp;teachers at our school became a contestant on Jeopardy, he called my dad. He brought the Jeopardy board game and we got out the&amp;nbsp;Trivial Pursuit cards.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Thanks in part to us, he went on the show, won 5 games in a row and came in&amp;nbsp;second place in the Tournament of Champions.&amp;nbsp; He even thanked our family on&amp;nbsp;the mecca of trivia game shows&amp;nbsp;of national tv. We were thrilled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I watch Jeopardy with my kids.&amp;nbsp;They look at me and wonder how I got so smart.&amp;nbsp; I have "Scene It" and "Twenty Questions" in my game closet and a few trivia books of my own on the bookshelf.&amp;nbsp; In my opinion, these trivial games and books are just the ticket to some old-fashioned family fun, laughs and memories to last a lifetime.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Frym0GetOBc/TZtC81LMs3I/AAAAAAAAAFE/qllpGqmW0V4/s1600/rememberedbutton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Frym0GetOBc/TZtC81LMs3I/AAAAAAAAAFE/qllpGqmW0V4/s1600/rememberedbutton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;This&amp;nbsp;post is written for a prompt&amp;nbsp;given by&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://thereddressclub.blogspot.com/2011/05/remembered-lets-play.html"&gt;The Red Dress Club&lt;/a&gt;. This week,&amp;nbsp;we were asked&amp;nbsp;to recall the games&amp;nbsp;we played when&amp;nbsp;we were young.&amp;nbsp;I enjoyed writing this one&amp;nbsp;When I asked my sister to remember the games we played, this was her first memory too. Concrit is welcome.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-808659517259295833?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/808659517259295833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/trivial-pursuits.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/808659517259295833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/808659517259295833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/trivial-pursuits.html' title='Trivial Pursuits'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WtJLdYVtTJg/TdsC-yMVIqI/AAAAAAAAAGM/A303ZpHbsbo/s72-c/220px-Trivialpursuit_Token.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-5871787336387559114</id><published>2011-05-20T09:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-20T09:35:15.623-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What I Learned This Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ihmc07-lTro/TdZsG7iX3rI/AAAAAAAAAGA/8RE0djU9kBk/s1600/lightbulb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ihmc07-lTro/TdZsG7iX3rI/AAAAAAAAAGA/8RE0djU9kBk/s200/lightbulb.jpg" width="172" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Life is a journey and along the&amp;nbsp;way you constantly discover new things about yourself and the world around you.&amp;nbsp;Here is what I learned this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a big difference between &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;"vetting"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; and &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;"venting."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;Vetting&lt;/strong&gt; an idea is a productive exercise with your peers.&amp;nbsp; When it is over, you know that you have accomplished something important and feel good about it.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;You choose to be a part of the process knowing that&amp;nbsp;it will&amp;nbsp;be a&amp;nbsp;worthwhile way to spend&amp;nbsp;15 minutes&amp;nbsp;of your day.&amp;nbsp; I suppose that &lt;strong&gt;venting&lt;/strong&gt; can also be seen as&amp;nbsp;a productive&amp;nbsp;exercise with your peers or anyone who will listen.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But, it can often&amp;nbsp;be exhausting and counterproductive.&amp;nbsp; The goal here is to get something off your chest without much chance or openness towards resolution.&amp;nbsp; You can participate in the venting process, but it ultimately will prove to be 15 minutes of your life that you will never get back.&amp;nbsp; To that note - I add the following prayer to my regular Shabbat prayers tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;God grant me the serenity&amp;nbsp;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;to accept the things I cannot change; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #3d85c6;"&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;courage to change the things I can; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;and wisdom to know the difference. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a much lighter note, I also learned that even 40 year olds can get addicted to video games. Case in point - I am addicted to my daughter's DSI game, &lt;a href="http://www.google.com/products/catalog?rlz=1T4ADFA_enUS405US406&amp;amp;q=Style+Savvy&amp;amp;um=1&amp;amp;ie=UTF-8&amp;amp;tbm=shop&amp;amp;cid=15513961862409293563&amp;amp;sa=X&amp;amp;ei=dGvWTZOMFsnZ0QGgybGlBw&amp;amp;ved=0CDQQ8wIwAQ&amp;amp;biw=1259&amp;amp;bih=753#"&gt;Style Savvy&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp;In this virtual reality, I am&amp;nbsp;the owner of a trendy clothing store,&amp;nbsp;I can&amp;nbsp;buy the latest fashions and sell them to clients with specific wants and needs.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I don't know why but it is a lot of fun and I&amp;nbsp;can't seem to put it down. I love&amp;nbsp;to channel my inner fashionista without spending a dime of my hard earned money. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a great weekend!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-5871787336387559114?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5871787336387559114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/what-i-learned-this-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/5871787336387559114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/5871787336387559114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/what-i-learned-this-week.html' title='What I Learned This Week'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ihmc07-lTro/TdZsG7iX3rI/AAAAAAAAAGA/8RE0djU9kBk/s72-c/lightbulb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-8669989010500020689</id><published>2011-05-19T08:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-19T09:00:40.194-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Before 7 am</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-trMnN8jkhFA/TdUID-Oh3QI/AAAAAAAAAF8/vXbu51JX4p4/s1600/sun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" j8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-trMnN8jkhFA/TdUID-Oh3QI/AAAAAAAAAF8/vXbu51JX4p4/s200/sun.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;While the rest of my family was sleeping soundly, I woke up this morning with one thing on my&amp;nbsp;mind - dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too often, I come home from work and I have no idea what we are having for dinner or when I am going to&amp;nbsp;find the&amp;nbsp;time to make something healthy.&amp;nbsp; Between helping with homework and driving to piano lessons, ball games and so on, those golden arches look friendlier and friendlier all the time. But, I am determined to stay away from their magical&amp;nbsp;ability to provide dinner without getting out of the car or stepping foot into&amp;nbsp;my kitchen.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, back to my wake up call.&amp;nbsp; At 5:30 this&amp;nbsp;morning, I got out of bed, rubbed my eyes and made my way down to the kitchen. Briefly blinded by the&amp;nbsp;light, I pulled out my cookbook and turned to an easy chicken recipe that pleases everyone in the family &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(see below for the recipe).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; I pre-heated the oven and got busy.&amp;nbsp; Within&amp;nbsp;25 minutes, the chicken was pounded, dipped in&amp;nbsp;a yummy&amp;nbsp;honey-dijon mustard&amp;nbsp;mixture and breaded&amp;nbsp;evenly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Satisfied with myself, I suddenly remembered the load of&amp;nbsp;laundry that I put in the wash&amp;nbsp;last&amp;nbsp;night.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp;ran downstairs to put it in the dryer and then went to take a shower. By the time I got dressed, dinner was ready and that load of&amp;nbsp;laundry was almost done. And when I put on my rose-colored glasses, I can't even see the enormous pile of dishes sitting in the sink!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must say that being a morning person has its benefits.&amp;nbsp; There is so much I can accomplish with a little coffee and the notion that&amp;nbsp;I'm not distracted by&amp;nbsp;other responsibilities and&amp;nbsp;errands.&amp;nbsp; It is great to start my day knowing that I don't have to worry making dinner tonight.&amp;nbsp; I will have extra time to spend with my kids, their homework, activities and maybe even watch the last few episodes of Oprah without guilt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm, I could be on to something here.&amp;nbsp; This might become a new habit for me. And perhaps, a new blog&amp;nbsp;theme&amp;nbsp;as well.&amp;nbsp; After all, I even wrote this post before 8&amp;nbsp;am!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Recipe: Chicken Dijon&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(From The Six O'Clock Scramble Cookbook)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 chicken breast halves&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup bread crumbs&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup flour&lt;br /&gt;1/2 tsp paprika&lt;br /&gt;3 Tbsp dijon mustard&lt;br /&gt;1 Tbsp honey&lt;br /&gt;1 Tbsp water&lt;br /&gt;1/4 tsp salt&lt;br /&gt;1/4 tsp peppr&lt;br /&gt;1 Tbsp margarine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preheat oven to 425 degrees. Line baking sheet with foil and spray with non stick spray.&amp;nbsp; Pound chicken breasts. Combine bread crumbs, flour and paprika. Combine mustard, honey, water, salt and pepper. Coat chicken with mustard mixture and then bread crumbs.&amp;nbsp; Put on bakng sheet. Melt margarine in microwave and drizzle over the chicken. Bake for 10-15 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner is served!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-8669989010500020689?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/8669989010500020689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/life-before-7-am.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8669989010500020689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8669989010500020689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/life-before-7-am.html' title='Life Before 7 am'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-trMnN8jkhFA/TdUID-Oh3QI/AAAAAAAAAF8/vXbu51JX4p4/s72-c/sun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-4734377780393599708</id><published>2011-05-16T15:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-16T15:52:37.782-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Mom's Sixth Sense</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-47av4oOPb3Y/TdFgXXmYpvI/AAAAAAAAAF4/YLom_X6ONAQ/s1600/supermom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-47av4oOPb3Y/TdFgXXmYpvI/AAAAAAAAAF4/YLom_X6ONAQ/s1600/supermom.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Just like all other human beings, moms have the five senses - hear, sight, smell,&amp;nbsp;taste, &amp;amp; touch.&amp;nbsp; But, it is&amp;nbsp;our sixth sense that makes us stand out from the rest of the pack.&amp;nbsp; I call this&amp;nbsp;the "lost &amp;amp; found" sense. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about you but&amp;nbsp;I am&amp;nbsp;faced with the task of finding the missing sneaker, book, lunch box, baseball shirt, etc... on a daily basis.&amp;nbsp; Did I say daily?&amp;nbsp;Let's say that at least 2-3 times a day, I am called upon&amp;nbsp;to find what is lost and return it to its proper owner.&amp;nbsp; As a somewhat experienced mom, I feel that it is&amp;nbsp;important to share&amp;nbsp;how to handle (and not to handle) this situation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Boomerang Effect&lt;/strong&gt; -&amp;nbsp;You may be tempted to ask the person to go and look for&amp;nbsp;the item&amp;nbsp;themselves.&amp;nbsp; You will reason in your mind that&amp;nbsp;this person&amp;nbsp;put it away&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;therefore he or she&amp;nbsp;should know where to find it.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It sounds rational but I&amp;nbsp;guarantee you that within 5 minutes that&amp;nbsp;person will&amp;nbsp;come back to you and say, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I can't find it" or I've looked everywhere."&amp;nbsp;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Of course, you know that this means they went into their bedroom, looked around, shrugged their shoulders&amp;nbsp;and basically gave up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Blame Game&lt;/strong&gt; -&amp;nbsp;You will waste valuable time playing the game of he said/she said. Endless rounds of "You had it last." or &amp;nbsp;"You cleaned up the house and must have &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;put it away somewhere&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;."&amp;nbsp; This is a fight that is not worth fighting. While all of this may be true -&amp;nbsp;the fact remains&amp;nbsp;that&amp;nbsp;it is still&amp;nbsp;lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The St. Anthony Method&lt;/strong&gt; - As a nice Jewish girl, I do not know much about saints - except for the song I learned about&amp;nbsp;how they come marching in.&amp;nbsp; However, I've learned that St. Anthony is the patron saint of finding lost things. If you feel that you need divine intervention, you can find out more about&amp;nbsp;St. Anthony &lt;a href="http://catholicmom.com/2011/02/21/why-is-st-anthony%E2%80%99s-help-sought-in-finding-lost-things/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;and call upon him if the need arises.&amp;nbsp; I have some&amp;nbsp;friends who swear by this method.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Always Tried &amp;amp; Never Failed Method&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;- Send in a mom to&amp;nbsp;save the day.&amp;nbsp; But here are&amp;nbsp;the rules: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;If the item is in&amp;nbsp;plain sight and the person chose to overlook it, ask that person to go back to their room and give it a better look. Assure them that it will magically appear if they&amp;nbsp;give it another try.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If the item is not in clear sight, bring in your puzzled&amp;nbsp;partner and start the search together.&amp;nbsp; Make it a competition or a game. No one likes to do these tasks alone.&amp;nbsp; Even though&amp;nbsp;moms can perform a search and rescue on our own successfully&amp;nbsp;- we need to teach others to&amp;nbsp;develop their sixth sense.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Of course, if no one can find it, the kids will have learn to live without it, borrow someone else's or use their money to buy a new one.&amp;nbsp;And you know that it will turn up someday where you least expect it.&amp;nbsp; Don't get me started on the time I found a check that&amp;nbsp;was used&amp;nbsp;as a bookmark. Yikes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-4734377780393599708?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/4734377780393599708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/moms-sixth-sense.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/4734377780393599708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/4734377780393599708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/moms-sixth-sense.html' title='A Mom&apos;s Sixth Sense'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-47av4oOPb3Y/TdFgXXmYpvI/AAAAAAAAAF4/YLom_X6ONAQ/s72-c/supermom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-3355917100917533540</id><published>2011-05-13T15:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-13T15:06:02.311-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank You, Ferris Bueller!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EH8W0weHF1s/Tc18YTV5sCI/AAAAAAAAAF0/AnoFuFMF1jI/s1600/ferris.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" j8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EH8W0weHF1s/Tc18YTV5sCI/AAAAAAAAAF0/AnoFuFMF1jI/s200/ferris.jpg" width="197" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This week's prompt from one of my favorite blogger sites - &lt;a href="http://www.thereddressclub.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Red Dress Club&lt;/a&gt; - asked me to write about one of the 7 Deadly Sins - gluttony.&amp;nbsp; As a Jew, I was never taught the 7 Deadly Sins in Sunday School.&amp;nbsp; But, since I'm never one to walk away from a challenge, I know that the&amp;nbsp;word gluttony brings to mind the common phrase - "glutton for punishment" - which is what I will write about here. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a simple fact of my life that I love&amp;nbsp;to&amp;nbsp;keep busy.&amp;nbsp; In order to prevent&amp;nbsp;the onset of boredom, I&amp;nbsp;became&amp;nbsp;involved in many different things.&amp;nbsp; Honestly, I enjoy them all&amp;nbsp;but my friends and family look at me&amp;nbsp;and sometimes wonder if I am a glutton for punishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Are you wondering where Ferris Bueller comes into all of this? Keep reading...)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is one thing to be busy, but at what cost?&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;With a full time job, two children and a house to take care of, I am frequently asked how I&amp;nbsp;find the time be president of my professional organization,&amp;nbsp;exercise regularly, volunteer at&amp;nbsp;school,&amp;nbsp;pee, and write my blog posts.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I've&amp;nbsp;laughed&amp;nbsp;these comments&amp;nbsp;off&amp;nbsp;by saying - " I don't do all of these things at the same time!"&amp;nbsp; But, the part that I forget about is that even though this is true&amp;nbsp;- I'm constantly thinking about all of these things&amp;nbsp;that I need to do and wonder when I'm ever going to get it done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posts on Facebook tell me that I'm not alone.&amp;nbsp; Many of my friends&amp;nbsp;write about how overwhelmed they are and wonder where&amp;nbsp;the day&amp;nbsp;went.&amp;nbsp; Articles about multi-tasking and time-saving tips are devoured by readers like me. We are all looking for that magic formula to get it all done and be happy doing it.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;(Don't worry, I'll get to Ferris in a minute...)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I&amp;nbsp;go out for a run,&amp;nbsp;it is my&amp;nbsp;intention to get in some exercise and I hope&amp;nbsp;to&amp;nbsp;clear my head and alleviate some stress.&amp;nbsp; But within the first mile, my&amp;nbsp;mind is quickly overcome with what is on my current to-do list&amp;nbsp;and what needs to be added to it.&amp;nbsp; I can't&amp;nbsp;help myself and ultimately it defeats the purpose of running in the first place.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;So, &lt;strong&gt;let it be written and let it be done&lt;/strong&gt; that one of my personal goals is to&amp;nbsp;enjoy myself in tasks that I choose to spend my time&amp;nbsp;on and be present in the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Ferris Bueller once said, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." &lt;br /&gt;I don't want to miss a moment. I'd rather make&amp;nbsp;each moment&amp;nbsp;count. So, thank you, Ferris Bueller - you are a righteous dude! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-3355917100917533540?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/3355917100917533540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/thank-you-ferris-bueller.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3355917100917533540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3355917100917533540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/thank-you-ferris-bueller.html' title='Thank You, Ferris Bueller!'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EH8W0weHF1s/Tc18YTV5sCI/AAAAAAAAAF0/AnoFuFMF1jI/s72-c/ferris.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-3970192616637039232</id><published>2011-05-11T08:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-11T13:10:06.036-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Summer Reading  List</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/---roQaUeVHM/Tcp_lWRR-1I/AAAAAAAAAFw/TQk5xqoxCV4/s1600/summer+read.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="212" j8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/---roQaUeVHM/Tcp_lWRR-1I/AAAAAAAAAFw/TQk5xqoxCV4/s320/summer+read.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Is anyone out there putting together a summer reading list? I'm getting ready to spend time in my happy place (my deck) with a good book in hand that I can't put down. This year, I'm coming up with different categories and selecting a book that fits the bill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I have so far:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Celebrity Read: Stories I Only Tell My Friends, by Rob Lowe&lt;/strong&gt;. I saw Rob Lowe on Oprah and let's just say that my huge school-girl crush came back in a big wave. His book has gotten very good reviews and let's face it - I just have to know about the chemistry between&amp;nbsp;Rob &amp;amp; Demi&amp;nbsp;that was so obvious in the 80's movies. I mean - like totally, for sure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Book Club Read: The Hotel At The Corner of Bitter and Sweet&lt;/strong&gt;. I'm one of those people who joins book clubs to actually read the books. Even if we don't talk about the book at our meeting, I like to come prepared. A few months ago, I took this book out of the library and was quickly engrossed in the story. Unfortunately, I was very busy with work at the time and I never got around to finishing the book. Thankfully,&amp;nbsp;my book club is reading it this month and now is my&amp;nbsp;chance to finish what I started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Books Recommended By A Friend:&lt;/strong&gt; My husband's co-worker is a big reader and she gave me two books to read. The first book is called &lt;strong&gt;Islands &lt;/strong&gt;by Anne Rivers Siddons. The other one is &lt;strong&gt;Snow Flower and the Secret Fan&lt;/strong&gt;. The last one is a little out of my comfort zone, but I'm going to give it a try. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Parenting Book: The Blessing of a B Minus - Using Jewish Teachings to Raise Resilient Teenagers.&lt;/strong&gt; - I don't have a teenager in the house yet, but I do have a ten year old. This means that I have exactly 2 years and 7 months to figure out how to get through the teenage years. Author Wendy Mogel did me right with her book &lt;strong&gt;Blessings of A Skinned Knee.&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; I am so glad she came out with another book for the next decade of adventures in parenthood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Book for Writers Like Me:&lt;/strong&gt; I'm spending a lot more time writing so it makes sense&amp;nbsp;for me to read up on some great books about writing by writers. The first one is &lt;strong&gt;The Productive Writer&lt;/strong&gt; and the second one is &lt;strong&gt;The Well Fed Writer&lt;/strong&gt;. I hope that these books get me organized and on my way to meet my writing goals for the coming year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, these are my top books for the summer.&amp;nbsp;Of course, I have to add in the summer reading lists of two children. This is going to be a busy summer at the library!&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is my question for you - what is on your reading list? Please comment or post and let me know!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-3970192616637039232?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/3970192616637039232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-summer-reading-list.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3970192616637039232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3970192616637039232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-summer-reading-list.html' title='My Summer Reading  List'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/---roQaUeVHM/Tcp_lWRR-1I/AAAAAAAAAFw/TQk5xqoxCV4/s72-c/summer+read.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-6068568874311854974</id><published>2011-05-06T09:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T09:36:35.509-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Biggest Fan</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rClZ6w_LMiU/TcP4_P-yPUI/AAAAAAAAAFk/dt0kJhkl5rc/s1600/mom+photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" j8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rClZ6w_LMiU/TcP4_P-yPUI/AAAAAAAAAFk/dt0kJhkl5rc/s320/mom+photo.jpg" width="217" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Yesterday, I realized that I still needed to buy a Mother's Day present for my&amp;nbsp;mom.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;debated about asking her what she wanted&amp;nbsp;- knowing full well that she would ask for&amp;nbsp;a new nightgown or a wallet.&amp;nbsp; But, these tokens of appreciation are so little&amp;nbsp;for one who has done so much.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Instead, I thought I would&amp;nbsp;write a&amp;nbsp;blog post and share it with her&amp;nbsp;(and all of you).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom is my biggest fan.&amp;nbsp; She subscribes to the synagogue newsletter just to read my columns.&amp;nbsp; She loves what I write in this blog and always tells me so.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;She didn't even get upset when she read&amp;nbsp;that I&amp;nbsp;sat on some guy's lap in the front seat of a sports car (read: &lt;a href="http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/heart-stopping-moment.html"&gt;A Heart Stopping Moment&lt;/a&gt;). She reminded me that she was young once too.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is my biggest fan when it comes to how I live my life.&amp;nbsp; She&amp;nbsp;once questioned my&amp;nbsp;decision to be a working mom&amp;nbsp;with young kids at home.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;She&amp;nbsp;doesn't do that anymore. Instead, she tells me&amp;nbsp;how proud she is of me&amp;nbsp;and marvels at what I&amp;nbsp;have accomplished.&amp;nbsp; When I tell her how tired I am and how much I still have to do, she&amp;nbsp;tells me not to worry and reminds me that tomorrow is another day.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is my biggest fan when I've had a tough week - like this past week.&amp;nbsp; When I call her up on the phone, she is such a good listener.&amp;nbsp; When I'm done, she&amp;nbsp;reminds me that&amp;nbsp;I am a good person and that everything will be okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Mother's Day, I want to tell her that I am her biggest fan.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But, don't worry Mom - I'll still get you a present. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-6068568874311854974?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/6068568874311854974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-biggest-fan.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/6068568874311854974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/6068568874311854974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-biggest-fan.html' title='My Biggest Fan'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rClZ6w_LMiU/TcP4_P-yPUI/AAAAAAAAAFk/dt0kJhkl5rc/s72-c/mom+photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-732767108307753939</id><published>2011-04-26T09:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:13:21.251-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom Moments'/><title type='text'>Cutting the Cord - Again!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7E6WYoJVOEY/TbbIAA-gRvI/AAAAAAAAAFc/n-Rn6lk9nmM/s1600/IMG_4450%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" i8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7E6WYoJVOEY/TbbIAA-gRvI/AAAAAAAAAFc/n-Rn6lk9nmM/s320/IMG_4450%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This morning, I took a deep breath and cut the cord again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 10 year old was so confident in her ability to ride her bike to school. The last time I saw this look in her eyes was the day she got her ears pierced. How could I say no?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the last few weeks, I've seen her ride uphill and downhill on our street.&amp;nbsp; I was confident in her ability too. I just didn't want to admit it. I&amp;nbsp;laid down the rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rule #1&amp;nbsp; Stay on the sidewalks.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rule #2&amp;nbsp; Look both ways when you&amp;nbsp;need to&amp;nbsp;cross the street.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rule #3&amp;nbsp; Watch out for driveways, dogs and dump trucks (Today is&amp;nbsp;trash day).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Rule #4&amp;nbsp; You have to let me follow you to school for my own peace of mind.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;The rules were agreed upon.&amp;nbsp; Before I could back out of the driveway, she was halfway down the street.&amp;nbsp; Her first obstacle was ahead of her - a mom,&amp;nbsp;her&amp;nbsp;daughter and their cute little dog.&amp;nbsp; I watched her slow down and&amp;nbsp;they stepped aside so she could get by.&amp;nbsp;They smiled at me as I caught up&amp;nbsp;to her. &lt;br /&gt;\&lt;br /&gt;She turned the corner like a pro and looked both ways before crossing &amp;nbsp;the first street. She&amp;nbsp;made sure to ride up to the break in the curb and back&amp;nbsp;onto the sidewalk. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The big hill was coming up.&amp;nbsp; I could see a look of determination in her face.&amp;nbsp; She pedaled and pedaled as I followed slowly behind her. Another car came up behind me - probably wondering why I was going so slow. I sped up for him keeping an eye on her in the rear view mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-97Z-d9A6l6M/TbbILfwUaAI/AAAAAAAAAFg/tP7huftDzfU/s1600/IMG_4452%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" i8="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-97Z-d9A6l6M/TbbILfwUaAI/AAAAAAAAAFg/tP7huftDzfU/s320/IMG_4452%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I lost sight of her for a minute, but then I saw her again pedaling a little easier now as she made it up the hill. She could see the school in the distance and pedaled even faster.&amp;nbsp; The crossing guard moved a little quicker as he saw her coming. He&amp;nbsp;made sure that the cars would stop as she crossed the street.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I meet her at the bike rack at school.&amp;nbsp; She showed me how&amp;nbsp;she&amp;nbsp;can lock and unlock her bike&amp;nbsp;and then went into school.&amp;nbsp; I was so caught up in the moment that I forgot to take a picture of her at school.&amp;nbsp;But, believe me&amp;nbsp;it was a Kodak moment and the knot in my stomach began to untie itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cut the cord - again.&amp;nbsp; I'm&amp;nbsp;proud of the both of us.&amp;nbsp; I saw her little brother look up&amp;nbsp;at me wanting to ask if he could ride his bike tomorrow.&amp;nbsp;Thank goodness the school doesn't allow 1st graders to ride&amp;nbsp;to school yet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked down and said&amp;nbsp;- "Don't even think about it," knowing his turn will come someday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-732767108307753939?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/732767108307753939/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/cutting-cord-again.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/732767108307753939'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/732767108307753939'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/cutting-cord-again.html' title='Cutting the Cord - Again!'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7E6WYoJVOEY/TbbIAA-gRvI/AAAAAAAAAFc/n-Rn6lk9nmM/s72-c/IMG_4450%255B1%255D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-566933067305171709</id><published>2011-04-25T09:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:13:54.006-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='RemembeRED'/><title type='text'>Naming Rights</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tS8-Zv39s5M/TbV3D42IW3I/AAAAAAAAAFY/GsGtLm2U5VY/s1600/rose.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" i8="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tS8-Zv39s5M/TbV3D42IW3I/AAAAAAAAAFY/GsGtLm2U5VY/s1600/rose.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"What's in a name? That which we call a rose&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;By any other name would smell as sweet."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;- says Juliet in Romeo and Juliet&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;What is in a name? I have one of those first names that is unique, pretty, and often difficult for anyone to pronounce&amp;nbsp;on the first try. In fact, it often takes many times for people to get it right.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a child, the first day of school was always a hoot.&amp;nbsp; My teachers never got it right and since they had to remember so many other names&amp;nbsp;I let it go.&amp;nbsp; Honestly, I just got&amp;nbsp;tired of correcting them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I assumed my new first name of&amp;nbsp; "Lisa".&amp;nbsp; But in high school,&amp;nbsp;Lisa was often a doormat with a small group of treasured friends.&amp;nbsp; Lisa allowed herself to be picked on endlessly by others; never&amp;nbsp;standing up for herself and thinking that this was her place on the food chain forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back then,&amp;nbsp;I accepted it.&amp;nbsp;But, after I graduated&amp;nbsp;high school, it was a different story.&amp;nbsp; The idea of a fresh start&amp;nbsp;appealed to me.&amp;nbsp; College was&amp;nbsp;my chance to reinvent myself.&amp;nbsp; My first order of business was to&amp;nbsp;insist that&amp;nbsp;everyone call me by my proper name.&amp;nbsp; I&amp;nbsp;politely corrected&amp;nbsp;people&amp;nbsp;as many times as it took&amp;nbsp;and to my surprise&amp;nbsp;they caught on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps, there was&amp;nbsp;something about&amp;nbsp;my&amp;nbsp;insistance -and persistance- that made me feel like a&amp;nbsp;grown up.&amp;nbsp; I was finally taking charge of my identity &amp;amp; my life.&amp;nbsp; I would no longer accept other people's version of who I was and started to be true to myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In college, Elisa was confident and even attractive with plenty of&amp;nbsp;friends and admirers.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Elisa laughed and lived as loudly as&amp;nbsp;she had always wanted to.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;And&amp;nbsp;she never looked back.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since then, in every job I've ever&amp;nbsp;held and&amp;nbsp; with each person I&amp;nbsp;come in contact with - I introduce&amp;nbsp;myself as Elisa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, people still call me Lisa and other versions of my name and that's okay too.&amp;nbsp;My husband calls me "Lis" (with the i sounding like&amp;nbsp;a long e) which is particularly special to me.&amp;nbsp; All of this&amp;nbsp;takes me back to the above quote.&amp;nbsp; Shakespeare had it right - &lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"What's in a name?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; That which we call Lisa or Elisa or Lis&amp;nbsp;- would I&amp;nbsp;still smell as sweet?&amp;nbsp;Of course I would!&amp;nbsp;In the grand scheme of life, the most important&amp;nbsp;thing of all is that I get to be&amp;nbsp;myself - which is all I ever wanted anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Frym0GetOBc/TZtC81LMs3I/AAAAAAAAAFE/qllpGqmW0V4/s1600/rememberedbutton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" i8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Frym0GetOBc/TZtC81LMs3I/AAAAAAAAAFE/qllpGqmW0V4/s1600/rememberedbutton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;This is a post for the prompt from &lt;a href="http://www.thereddressclub.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Red Dress Club website&lt;/a&gt; that asked us to recall something in &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;your life that seemed terrible at the time, but looking back, brought you something wonderful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: #38761d;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-566933067305171709?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/566933067305171709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/naming-rights.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/566933067305171709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/566933067305171709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/naming-rights.html' title='Naming Rights'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tS8-Zv39s5M/TbV3D42IW3I/AAAAAAAAAFY/GsGtLm2U5VY/s72-c/rose.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-3406747287290695861</id><published>2011-04-21T09:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:13:54.006-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='RemembeRED'/><title type='text'>A Heart Stopping Moment</title><content type='html'>It was a&amp;nbsp;brand new sports car that needed to fit all&amp;nbsp;6 of us.&amp;nbsp; It was midnight when the dance ended. No one wanted the night to end, so we&amp;nbsp;decided to go to the local diner for a late night snack.&amp;nbsp; As&amp;nbsp;the smallest of the group, I was elected to sit on my date's lap in the front bucket&amp;nbsp;seat&amp;nbsp; - just inches away from the windshield.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reasoned that it was a short distance to the diner.&amp;nbsp;And really, what other choice did I have? I was 16. Peer pressure was a big part of&amp;nbsp;my life&amp;nbsp;and I wanted to&amp;nbsp;act&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"cool"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;in front of&amp;nbsp;my new group of friends.&amp;nbsp; I said a little prayer and reluctantly got into the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The music was blaring. The road was wide and empty of cars. We stopped at the bright stoplight at the next corner.&amp;nbsp; Another car - filled with kids - pulled up next to us. A conversation began between the drivers about whose car was faster. My heart was racing and then I&amp;nbsp;could have sworn that&amp;nbsp;it&amp;nbsp;stopped. I knew what our driver was thinking. I could feel&amp;nbsp;his testosterone levels rising. I closed my eyes wishing that the stoplight would never change to green.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, the&amp;nbsp;light&amp;nbsp;changed and&amp;nbsp;someone in the backseat yelled&amp;nbsp;"GO!"&amp;nbsp;encouraging him to race down the open road.&amp;nbsp; I quickly grabbed the&amp;nbsp;his forearm and gave him a pleading look.&amp;nbsp; My fear was obvious even though I couldn't speak.&amp;nbsp; I could tell in his eyes that he was wiser than his years.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;He smiled knowingly at me as he let the other car drive by us&amp;nbsp;at the speed of light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The groans from the backseat started as I looked at him and whispered my thanks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Frym0GetOBc/TZtC81LMs3I/AAAAAAAAAFE/qllpGqmW0V4/s1600/rememberedbutton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" i8="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Frym0GetOBc/TZtC81LMs3I/AAAAAAAAAFE/qllpGqmW0V4/s1600/rememberedbutton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;This week's memoir prompt was to write a piece inspired by the color red - but you were not allowed to use the word "red" in your story. This is a little too late for &lt;a href="http://www.thereddressclub.com/"&gt;The Red Dress Club&lt;/a&gt; website, but I welcome your comments.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-3406747287290695861?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/3406747287290695861/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/heart-stopping-moment.html#comment-form' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3406747287290695861'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3406747287290695861'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/heart-stopping-moment.html' title='A Heart Stopping Moment'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Frym0GetOBc/TZtC81LMs3I/AAAAAAAAAFE/qllpGqmW0V4/s72-c/rememberedbutton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-4966788770808108776</id><published>2011-04-20T07:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:10:56.751-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jewish Holidays'/><title type='text'>Passover Through A Child's Eyes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gcDlRtvfAfA/Ta672_-TPXI/AAAAAAAAAFU/SUfCznokJWE/s1600/passover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150px" i8="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gcDlRtvfAfA/Ta672_-TPXI/AAAAAAAAAFU/SUfCznokJWE/s200/passover.jpg" width="200px" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span id="goog_1238170686"&gt;Let's face it.&amp;nbsp; For adults, preparing for&amp;nbsp;Passover&amp;nbsp;can be&amp;nbsp;exhausting. There is lots of cleaning and cooking to do. I can't&amp;nbsp;think of&amp;nbsp;another&amp;nbsp;week&amp;nbsp;on the Jewish calendar where we need to be so physically ready to celebrate a holiday.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several trips are required to the supermarket&amp;nbsp;in search&amp;nbsp;of our favorite or&amp;nbsp;forgotten Passover items.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;My family&amp;nbsp;cooks and bakes not only for the seder but for the entire week.&amp;nbsp;I lead the Passover&amp;nbsp;seder - making sure that everyone is included and we have&amp;nbsp;everything we need&amp;nbsp;to help us celebrate.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We do&amp;nbsp;this&amp;nbsp;preparation in order to celebrate &amp;amp;&amp;nbsp;remember the story of our freedom.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;But, more importantly - we know deep down inside the importance of keeping these&amp;nbsp;traditions alive for our children and future generations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the last few days, I've learned that&amp;nbsp;my&amp;nbsp;children&amp;nbsp;see Passover&amp;nbsp;from a different point of view.&amp;nbsp;Walking in their shoes, I&amp;nbsp;realize that our&amp;nbsp;multiple trips to the grocery store are&amp;nbsp;lessons in what is and what is not kosher for Passover. They ask&amp;nbsp;lots of great questions and thank goodness I can answer most of&amp;nbsp;them (or&amp;nbsp;look it up on&amp;nbsp;Google).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cleaning for Passover takes on a whole new meaning.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It&amp;nbsp;is&amp;nbsp;not&amp;nbsp;enough&amp;nbsp;to&amp;nbsp;put the toys away, but we are commanded to get rid of all the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;chametz&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; (leavened food) in the house. Setting&amp;nbsp;the seder table is not an ordinary chore.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We take out&amp;nbsp;china, crystal and the "good" silverware that we use on special occasions. The kids admire the table and decide tomake a contribution of their own in the form of&amp;nbsp;making&amp;nbsp;place cards for everyone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The seder table is the place for the kids&amp;nbsp;to shine. They bring their game faces and can't wait to begin. They&amp;nbsp;read and sing with enthusiasm.&amp;nbsp; The fans (adults) go wild&amp;nbsp;as they&amp;nbsp;watch them&amp;nbsp;recite the Four Questions - which are always asked by the youngest children at the table.&amp;nbsp;This year, my heart soared when I saw them&lt;strong&gt; stand up&lt;/strong&gt; to read them - taking their role in the ceremony very seriously. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the evening - after the seder and festive meal are over -the&amp;nbsp;clean up begins again. My daughter sneaks up behind me and gives&amp;nbsp;me a hug.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, that was really great! Thank you,"&amp;nbsp;she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Knowing all of the hard work was worth it, I give&amp;nbsp;her a hug back and let&amp;nbsp;her know that the pleasure is all mine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-4966788770808108776?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/4966788770808108776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/passover-through-childs-eyes.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/4966788770808108776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/4966788770808108776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/passover-through-childs-eyes.html' title='Passover Through A Child&apos;s Eyes'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gcDlRtvfAfA/Ta672_-TPXI/AAAAAAAAAFU/SUfCznokJWE/s72-c/passover.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-1270563647911696259</id><published>2011-04-12T09:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:14:42.909-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Not Necessarily the News</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tUxI3JgwwiA/TaRTc7iPIkI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/ovoeB51Q_Ug/s1600/news.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" r6="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tUxI3JgwwiA/TaRTc7iPIkI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/ovoeB51Q_Ug/s1600/news.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;As I embrace&amp;nbsp;a new decade, I&amp;nbsp;notice that&amp;nbsp;I've become very picky about certain things in my life.&amp;nbsp; For instance, I'm very particular about&amp;nbsp;how and when I get&amp;nbsp;the day's&amp;nbsp;news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning B.C. (before coffee), I&amp;nbsp;just need to&amp;nbsp;know how&amp;nbsp;warm or cold it is going to be and whether&amp;nbsp;or not I need an umbrella. That is all I need to know.&amp;nbsp; I don't&amp;nbsp;want the 5 day forecast, the shore-cast&amp;nbsp;or what the temperature is at the airport.&amp;nbsp;As George Carlin once said, "I don't know anyone who lives at the airport!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.I.D.C. (after I drink&amp;nbsp;coffee), &amp;nbsp;I find the morning programs annoying. I cringe when the news anchor goes from&amp;nbsp;interviewing a police officer about a tragedy and then turns to camera 2, smiles and shakes his head as he reports about Charlie Sheen on a rooftop holding a machete. Is this big news and am I expected to switch gears that fast? Maybe I need more coffee to keep up with the&amp;nbsp;anchorman who is&amp;nbsp;probably 4 cups ahead of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the day, I get my news strictly online.&amp;nbsp;When there is&amp;nbsp;something important&amp;nbsp;going&amp;nbsp;happening in the world, I read about it on FB or HuffPost. The writing is short and sweet; clean and&amp;nbsp;informative and if I want more information -&amp;nbsp;I have many sources at my fingertips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a former newspaper reporter, I pay homage to my early beginnings as a writer and&amp;nbsp;enjoy reading the paper. But these days -&amp;nbsp;by the time I read it - I'm usually reading yesterday's news.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the evening, I don't watch the local news period.&amp;nbsp; I don't want to go to bed&amp;nbsp;listening to the latest shootings, crime sprees &amp;amp;&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;other terrible things that happened&amp;nbsp;in my&amp;nbsp;neighborhood.&amp;nbsp; If I can stay up late enough, I&amp;nbsp;enjoy Jon Stewart's take on the news of the day - informative, accurate, intelligent &amp;amp; very amusing.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I'm looking forward to&amp;nbsp;his upcoming InDecision 2012 campaign coverage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting back to the beginning of my post, I'm getting picky about certain things as I age.&amp;nbsp; Billy&amp;nbsp;Crystal said it best in the movie&amp;nbsp;.When Harry Met Sally. I'm high maintenance but I think I'm low maintenance. To which Meg Ryan replies, "I just like it the way I like it." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Exactly! So, I'll take my news with the dribble on the side.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-1270563647911696259?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/1270563647911696259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/not-necessarily-news.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/1270563647911696259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/1270563647911696259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/not-necessarily-news.html' title='Not Necessarily the News'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tUxI3JgwwiA/TaRTc7iPIkI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/ovoeB51Q_Ug/s72-c/news.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-954784995484202463</id><published>2011-04-06T10:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T10:30:30.552-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Tween In My House</title><content type='html'>A messy room&lt;br /&gt;Bed covers crumpled,&amp;nbsp;not straightened&lt;br /&gt;Papers everywhere, never in a neat pile&lt;br /&gt;One earring missing, never to&amp;nbsp;be found&lt;br /&gt;Clothes on the floor, waiting for me to pick up&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Honey, do you know where your girl scout sash is?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A great wardrobe&lt;br /&gt;Better than my own&lt;br /&gt;Prefers sweatpants and leggings &lt;br /&gt;and wearing shorts in 50 degree temperatures&lt;br /&gt;Loves tops that are worn off the shoulder&lt;br /&gt;And my sunglasses&lt;br /&gt;Complains that her shoes that don't fit anymore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom, can you take me to the&amp;nbsp;mall?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good&amp;nbsp;kid&lt;br /&gt;Who does well in school&lt;br /&gt;And has&amp;nbsp;lots&amp;nbsp;of friends&lt;br /&gt;A kind person who includes everyone in her inner circle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dad, can I have friend&amp;nbsp;sleepover this weekend? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tween&lt;br /&gt;who has a messy room&lt;br /&gt;a great wardrobe&lt;br /&gt;lots&amp;nbsp;of friends&lt;br /&gt;and still needs me to&amp;nbsp;get tomato stains&amp;nbsp;from her&amp;nbsp;shirt sleeves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I point this out &lt;br /&gt;and she says&lt;br /&gt;"But mom, it's all part of my charm".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have to agree. And I wouldn't have it any other way. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-954784995484202463?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/954784995484202463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/tween-in-my-house.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/954784995484202463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/954784995484202463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/tween-in-my-house.html' title='A Tween In My House'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-7492096662961659206</id><published>2011-04-05T12:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:13:54.007-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='RemembeRED'/><title type='text'>The Lesson I Learned From Blue Cheese</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YFHwXlU0URU/TZtB1sTWf6I/AAAAAAAAAFA/8rv5l2V8u7U/s1600/cheese.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="149" r6="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YFHwXlU0URU/TZtB1sTWf6I/AAAAAAAAAFA/8rv5l2V8u7U/s200/cheese.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"&gt;One of the Jewish teachings in &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pirkei_Avot"&gt;Pirkei Avot&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;is&amp;nbsp;to make&amp;nbsp;"Your house&amp;nbsp;open wide and you should make the poor, members of your household."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"&gt;Growing up, my parents always led and taught by example. They&amp;nbsp;exemplified this particular value&amp;nbsp;by allowing a cousin to stay with us.&amp;nbsp; Our cousin was probably in his late 30's, unemployed and really down and out.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;They invited him into&amp;nbsp;our home. We ate meals together, watched Jeopardy (he was just as smart as the rest of us!)&amp;nbsp;and tried to help him get back on his feet.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"&gt;During his stay,&amp;nbsp;I remember how much he loved to eat everything with blue cheese.&amp;nbsp;I did not care for the taste or the smell.&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #0b5394;"&gt; Truth be told - I thought it was the most disgusting thing I ever smelled in my entire life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; The smell&amp;nbsp;travelled to every room of the house. I&amp;nbsp;would run through the kitchen to get away from&amp;nbsp;where it smelled the worst. &amp;nbsp;We never had it&amp;nbsp;before he came to stay with us and we haven't had it since.&amp;nbsp; He stayed with us for a few weeks before taking his blue cheese and heading out to what we hoped would be a brighter future. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"&gt;Today, whenever I smell blue cheese in someone's kitchen or grab a whiff of it in a restaurant, I am taken aback by the smell and then the&amp;nbsp;memories come back to me. I wonder where&amp;nbsp;my cousin wound up when he left that day.&amp;nbsp;(I don't know&amp;nbsp;where he is now).&amp;nbsp; I think of how my parents put themselves in his shoes and decided to lend a helping hand and a caring heart.&amp;nbsp; I remember how they drove him into the city to job interviews. They gave him&amp;nbsp;some money, provided him with shelter and food and always included him in our family activities.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Arial&amp;quot;, &amp;quot;sans-serif&amp;quot;; mso-fareast-font-family: &amp;quot;Times New Roman&amp;quot;;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"&gt;The&amp;nbsp;lessons that I learned&amp;nbsp;from my parents' example and kindness is something I will always have with me.&amp;nbsp;The pungent smell of blue&amp;nbsp;cheese makes me&amp;nbsp;think of&amp;nbsp;my cousin, my parents, my&amp;nbsp;values&amp;nbsp;and I am reminded to pay it forward.&amp;nbsp; In this way, I honor my parents. I teach my children. I am my true self. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;﻿﻿﻿﻿ &lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Frym0GetOBc/TZtC81LMs3I/AAAAAAAAAFE/qllpGqmW0V4/s1600/rememberedbutton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" r6="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Frym0GetOBc/TZtC81LMs3I/AAAAAAAAAFE/qllpGqmW0V4/s1600/rememberedbutton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://thereddressclub.blogspot.com/"&gt;Remembe(red) is a memoir meme.&lt;/a&gt; This week’s prompt: think of a sound or a smell the reminds you of something from your past and write a post about that memory. Don’t forget to incorporate the sound/smell of your choosing! Constructive comments/suggestions encouraged. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;﻿﻿﻿﻿&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-7492096662961659206?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7492096662961659206/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/lesson-i-learned-from-blue-cheese.html#comment-form' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/7492096662961659206'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/7492096662961659206'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/04/lesson-i-learned-from-blue-cheese.html' title='The Lesson I Learned From Blue Cheese'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YFHwXlU0URU/TZtB1sTWf6I/AAAAAAAAAFA/8rv5l2V8u7U/s72-c/cheese.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-9003277782950515752</id><published>2011-03-09T16:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:14:42.909-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Walking the Walk</title><content type='html'>Today is International Women's Day and Huff Post editor, Arianna Huffington&amp;nbsp;asks this question - &lt;strong&gt;"Who inspires you?"&lt;/strong&gt; These three words gave me a lot to think about as I started my day and I feel compelled to answer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am most inspired by people who lead by example. Let me explain. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've never been a fan of the old&amp;nbsp;saying - &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;"Do as I say, not as I do."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; Everyone&amp;nbsp;watches us -&amp;nbsp;especially our children.&amp;nbsp; They&amp;nbsp;listen to what we say, but they pay even closer attention to what we do. For example, my daughter has almost broken me of my&amp;nbsp;bad habit of using my cell phone&amp;nbsp;while driving.&amp;nbsp; I admit that I still occasionally take a glance at my Blackberry when it blinks at me or take a random call because I forget that I'm not supposed to.&amp;nbsp; But,&amp;nbsp;I mostly&amp;nbsp;keep it in my purse where it belongs.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do this because I know that not only is it the right thing to do - but because&amp;nbsp;she is watching me.&amp;nbsp; And in 6 short years, I'll be&amp;nbsp;handing&amp;nbsp;her a set of&amp;nbsp;car keys. Will she do as I say and not as I do? Or perhaps I'm better off if&amp;nbsp;my actions&amp;nbsp;speak louder than my words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, I am much more in favor of that saying or when people say - &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;"Don't just talk the talk, walk the walk."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;So, to answer the question - &lt;em&gt;Who inspires me?&lt;/em&gt; - my answer would be&amp;nbsp;everyone in my life who&amp;nbsp;leads by example.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Luckily, the list is too long to start naming names - but&amp;nbsp;you know who&amp;nbsp;you are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, by far, my&amp;nbsp;children inspire me to lead by example so that they will be motivated to make the right choices&amp;nbsp;in&amp;nbsp;their own&amp;nbsp;lives.&amp;nbsp;And that, my friends, is the&amp;nbsp;biggest inspiration&amp;nbsp;of all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-9003277782950515752?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/9003277782950515752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/03/walking-walk.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/9003277782950515752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/9003277782950515752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/03/walking-walk.html' title='Walking the Walk'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-4338083266992070193</id><published>2011-03-08T22:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:15:06.218-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Fountain of Youth?</title><content type='html'>After working nearly 9&amp;nbsp;hours at the synagogue today, it was about time to call it a day&amp;nbsp;- but I had a few hours left&amp;nbsp;at an&amp;nbsp;event.&amp;nbsp; So, to pass the time - I began to speak to a congregant who I didn't know very well. Here is&amp;nbsp;the best&amp;nbsp;part of&amp;nbsp;our conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;"Is this your first job out of school?" - says the congregant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;"Who me???" I said very surprised after I looked&amp;nbsp;around to see who she was talking to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She thought I was insulted, but I told her I was extremely flattered and went on with the rest of my long day with a smile on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Damn - 40 IS FABULOUS!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-4338083266992070193?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/4338083266992070193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/03/fountain-of-youth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/4338083266992070193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/4338083266992070193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/03/fountain-of-youth.html' title='Fountain of Youth?'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-2095782666546704088</id><published>2011-03-02T07:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:15:12.311-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Thoughts'/><title type='text'>My TLC Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LzJseJG1cPA/TW487DGYEFI/AAAAAAAAAE8/yeXovm73KkQ/s1600/stacyandclinton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" l6="true" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LzJseJG1cPA/TW487DGYEFI/AAAAAAAAAE8/yeXovm73KkQ/s1600/stacyandclinton.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;How nice would it be if I walked out of my room in my work clothes and Stacy London&amp;nbsp;is right there to&amp;nbsp;say&amp;nbsp;"Shut the front door!" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a confidence boost that would be to start my day. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And THEN, how nice it would be if I happened to run into that&amp;nbsp;TV chef at the grocery store who wants to come to my house and cook dinner for my family. I think I'd keep him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And THEN, how nice would it be to go home and find Nate Berkus at my doorstep with his crew to redecorate my bedroom. (I know - I'm switching channels here). I think I'd keep him too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And THEN, I could walk outside to see Peter Walsh (switching channels again) in his sexy British accent instructing me how to clear out the clutter from the office. Anything you say Peter...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And THEN, I wake up, reality sets in and I start my day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-2095782666546704088?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2095782666546704088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/03/my-tlc-dream.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2095782666546704088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2095782666546704088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/03/my-tlc-dream.html' title='My TLC Dream'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-LzJseJG1cPA/TW487DGYEFI/AAAAAAAAAE8/yeXovm73KkQ/s72-c/stacyandclinton.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-250137705940005767</id><published>2011-02-23T07:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:15:20.943-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Beauty For All Ages</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QMi6y4QoPks/TWUCP4nwSzI/AAAAAAAAAE4/c9lWmcwo7as/s1600/makeup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="165" j6="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QMi6y4QoPks/TWUCP4nwSzI/AAAAAAAAAE4/c9lWmcwo7as/s200/makeup.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;As I get older, the contents of my make up bag have&amp;nbsp;changed.&amp;nbsp; Now that I think about it, the &lt;strong&gt;size&lt;/strong&gt; of my make up bag has changed too. Allow me to&amp;nbsp;break it down for you. &amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 15, my mom took me to&amp;nbsp;Macy's and bought me&amp;nbsp;my first lipstick. The shade was Pink Foil&amp;nbsp;and it came&amp;nbsp;in a shiny black tube. My own lipstick!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;She sprung for&amp;nbsp;some "Colors by&amp;nbsp;Benneton"&amp;nbsp;perfume too. For this, I&amp;nbsp;bought a lipstick case at CVS and left the perfume in my room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following year, I added green eyeshadow to the mix which I threw in my purse.&amp;nbsp; I soon learned the value of a make up bag so that when your make up cracks (which it always does) - it won't spill all over your purse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 21, I was invited to my first Mary Kay (or was it Avon?) party where I learned all about the "liners." Lip liner and eye liner were my new best friends.&amp;nbsp;I also learned that you shouldn't necessarily match your eye&amp;nbsp;shadow to your eye color. So, I purchased a few new eye&amp;nbsp;shadow colors too.&amp;nbsp; Good thing I got a free make up bag to go with everything I bought. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 25, I went to Merle Norman who introduced me to their skin care&amp;nbsp;line.&amp;nbsp;Soon enough, I&amp;nbsp;added toner, moisturizer,&amp;nbsp;and powder to the mix.&amp;nbsp;They even threw in a free cosmetic case. How nice of them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 30-something, I started to have issues with acne and found a whole new line of skin products to tackle those things.&amp;nbsp; I also found a good dermatologist. Now, I have a whole bin under the bathroom sink dedicated to my skin. It just won't fit in a bag anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my 30's, I went from fancy schmancy Lauren Mercier make up to the more trendy and less expensive MAC cosmetics.&amp;nbsp; The girls behind the counter are friendlier and I don't break my budget. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend, I'm&amp;nbsp;attending&amp;nbsp;my first Arbonne party for some "age-defying" makeup.&amp;nbsp; Arbonne is for 40-somethings who aren't invited to Avon or Mary Kay parties anymore.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I'll learn all the new vocabulary like&amp;nbsp;"retinol" and "anti-oxidants."&amp;nbsp; My friend swears by it.&amp;nbsp; I'm sure I will&amp;nbsp; too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now I'm wondering if they will throw in a new make up bag.&amp;nbsp; I'm sure I'll need one by the end of the night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-250137705940005767?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/250137705940005767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/02/beauty-for-all-ages.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/250137705940005767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/250137705940005767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/02/beauty-for-all-ages.html' title='Beauty For All Ages'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QMi6y4QoPks/TWUCP4nwSzI/AAAAAAAAAE4/c9lWmcwo7as/s72-c/makeup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-2375065977581590082</id><published>2011-02-22T08:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:15:45.940-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Same Dream, Different Decade</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RLLOHr3HjW8/TWO8LDnpg7I/AAAAAAAAAEE/2VOf9qzJHzc/s1600/pencil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" j6="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RLLOHr3HjW8/TWO8LDnpg7I/AAAAAAAAAEE/2VOf9qzJHzc/s200/pencil.jpg" width="170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It is 2 pm. I'm running through the Quad&amp;nbsp;to get to my favorite journalism class with my latest feature writing project in my backpack.&amp;nbsp; I know this is the&amp;nbsp;story to pitch to Professor Fox. He is going to love it.&amp;nbsp; I just spent the last&amp;nbsp;2 days with my&amp;nbsp;neighbor who happens to be a female bodybuilder. I saw what she eats for breakfast, how she trains for her next competition and discovered what keeps her motivated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems like this happened to me just last week, but actually it was almost &lt;strong&gt;20 years ago&lt;/strong&gt;.&amp;nbsp; Yikes!&amp;nbsp;In the last two decades, I've picked up and put down my dream to&amp;nbsp;be a writer over and over again.&amp;nbsp; Yes, I've done plenty of writing in between. I've had a by-line in a newspaper, an article&amp;nbsp;picked up by the Associated Press, a&amp;nbsp;weekly column and now a blog.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;I would call this semi-successful.&amp;nbsp; What would really be successful is to find the time to write every day and write something that&amp;nbsp; makes&amp;nbsp;people think about life in a new way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, you know what happens - Life happens.&amp;nbsp; This is why I've had to pick&amp;nbsp;up and put back down my&amp;nbsp;dream to save for a rainy day.&amp;nbsp; But, I can honestly say that&amp;nbsp;my motivation is just like that of the bodybuilder's philosophy from&amp;nbsp;years ago.&amp;nbsp; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white;"&gt;I love to do it and so I keep it up because it is a big part of who I am.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could track her down today,&amp;nbsp;I wonder if she still&amp;nbsp;puts in a 3 hour work out on&amp;nbsp;her&amp;nbsp;specific rotations of muscle groups&amp;nbsp;and&amp;nbsp;does she still&amp;nbsp;eat that egg&amp;nbsp;yolk concoction? If she loves it,&amp;nbsp;I'm betting she still does.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-2375065977581590082?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2375065977581590082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/02/same-dream-different-decade.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2375065977581590082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2375065977581590082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/02/same-dream-different-decade.html' title='Same Dream, Different Decade'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RLLOHr3HjW8/TWO8LDnpg7I/AAAAAAAAAEE/2VOf9qzJHzc/s72-c/pencil.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-1711577208925862773</id><published>2011-02-15T20:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:15:54.815-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom Moments'/><title type='text'>Mission Impossible</title><content type='html'>Tonight, the kids and I decide to take a quick trip to the shoe store to buy new shoelaces. This&amp;nbsp;turned into a parent's version of Mission Impossible and an hour of my time that I will never get back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Store #1&amp;nbsp;- Sales woman (at a kids-only shoe store)&amp;nbsp;removed her&amp;nbsp;earphones for a brief moment to tell me that they don't sell shoelaces any more - just shoes. Okay....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Store #2&amp;nbsp;- Only sells shoelaces for adults and by the way - the shoe store on the 3rd floor is owned by the same company and they don't have them either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Store #3&amp;nbsp;- Doesn't sell shoelaces - just shoes and suggested that I go to store #5. Called store #5 first to see if they had said&amp;nbsp;shoelaces. They said,&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I think so."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Not real reassuring so I decided to try store #4 first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Store #4 - Thought a hit the jackpot after I was told there was&amp;nbsp;a whole rack of shoelaces in the back of the store.&amp;nbsp; They were sure to be there!&amp;nbsp;No dice&amp;nbsp;-&amp;nbsp;All adult sizes. Decided to risk one more stop at store #5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Store #5 - So close - they had a whole rack of kid's shoelaces in multicolors - except for black in the size that we needed.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Since the three of us were too tired to&amp;nbsp;make an attempt at&amp;nbsp;Store&amp;nbsp;# 6, we settled on the&amp;nbsp;white shoelaces for black and red sneakers.&amp;nbsp; Maybe&amp;nbsp;we will&amp;nbsp;start a&amp;nbsp;new fashion trend - at&amp;nbsp;least he won't fall down in gym class tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-1711577208925862773?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/1711577208925862773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/02/mission-impossible.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/1711577208925862773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/1711577208925862773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/02/mission-impossible.html' title='Mission Impossible'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-2012306129992994398</id><published>2011-02-14T17:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:18:02.200-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Me Time'/><title type='text'>Facing 40</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IPZFvDVbj9o/TVmop3xQ1bI/AAAAAAAAAD8/uz7PbnKGWJw/s1600/mug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" h5="true" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IPZFvDVbj9o/TVmop3xQ1bI/AAAAAAAAAD8/uz7PbnKGWJw/s200/mug.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Many of the life lessons I have learned came from coffee mugs in my parents' kitchen cupboard. Each one had a saying to live by.&amp;nbsp; When we used to set the table, we would&amp;nbsp;often read the mugs,&amp;nbsp;put the appropriate&amp;nbsp;one with the appropriate saying by the seat of the appropriate family member.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the mugs in the cupboard said&lt;strong&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;span style="color: #6aa84f;"&gt;"You&amp;nbsp;Have to Kiss&amp;nbsp;A Lot of Frogs&amp;nbsp;To Find Your Prince Charming."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; I guess the mug was right since it&amp;nbsp;took me 23 years to find the perfect&amp;nbsp;guy for me. &amp;nbsp;Where was the mug that was going to let me know that it would take 40 years to find the right&amp;nbsp;hair dresser?&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another mug read - &lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Growing Old is Mandatory. Growing Up is Optional."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&amp;nbsp; This is so true since I feel like a kid inside&amp;nbsp;myself with two kids of my own in tow.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember many&amp;nbsp;mugs&amp;nbsp;that spoke to me about reaching for&amp;nbsp;my goals and never giving up. There have been&amp;nbsp;so many times in my life where these mugs came in handy. Too numerous to count.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Just this year, I overcame my fear of public speaking after years of trying.&amp;nbsp; I'm still not great at it but I feel much better about it and I seek out&amp;nbsp;opportunities so that I can only get better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new goal is to respect my love for writing and&amp;nbsp;find more time to do so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My family, friends and experiences in life - along with these coffee mugs -&amp;nbsp;are all&amp;nbsp;big&amp;nbsp;contributors to&amp;nbsp;who I am today. As I&amp;nbsp;soon enter into a new decade of my life, I realize that&amp;nbsp;I'm really fine with it.&amp;nbsp; 40 is fabulous!&lt;br /&gt;But since&amp;nbsp;I can't find that on a mug anywhere (and I've looked), I'll&amp;nbsp;quote a mug already in my own kitchen -&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; "It's Not the&amp;nbsp;Age. It's the (Positive) Attitude!"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Words to live by!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-2012306129992994398?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2012306129992994398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/02/facing-40.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2012306129992994398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2012306129992994398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/02/facing-40.html' title='Facing 40'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-IPZFvDVbj9o/TVmop3xQ1bI/AAAAAAAAAD8/uz7PbnKGWJw/s72-c/mug.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-8530538702646867289</id><published>2011-01-01T12:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:18:26.624-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Comics! Wenches! Mummers!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TR9jbeX-7nI/AAAAAAAAADw/QpwqBus_IG8/s1600/mummers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TR9jbeX-7nI/AAAAAAAAADw/QpwqBus_IG8/s1600/mummers.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;What am I doing on New Years Day? The same thing I do every New Year's Day.&amp;nbsp; I watch the Mummer's Parade. Besides the Phillies, nothing&amp;nbsp;represents Philly pride to me&amp;nbsp;more than&amp;nbsp;the Mummers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(If you don't know what a Mummer is, I urge you to Google it.&amp;nbsp; You will never see anything like this in any part of the country or the world.&amp;nbsp; The costumes. The music. The comraderie. The merriment. It is all part of the Mummers tradition. And I love it.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was a kid, it was a family tradition to watch the parade in our&amp;nbsp;PJs and keep track of our favorites.&amp;nbsp; When we saw the theme of the band, we would try to guess the songs that&amp;nbsp;they were going to play.&amp;nbsp; Then, we play "Name that Tune" and guess what song they are playing on&amp;nbsp;the banjos.&amp;nbsp; It isn't easy&amp;nbsp;to recognize a song on the banjo but we did our best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most important part of watching the Mummer's parade was keeping our Parade Chart&amp;nbsp;updated. Let me explain.&amp;nbsp; Each string band has a name and each year they base their performance on a theme.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;On January 2nd, the awards are&amp;nbsp;announced and they only give the&amp;nbsp;name of the&amp;nbsp;string band.&amp;nbsp; Now, we don't know&amp;nbsp;the Quaker City string band from&amp;nbsp;the Polish American&amp;nbsp;string band, but we remember the theme!&amp;nbsp;Basically, if we don't write down the theme - we won't know who won. So the list must be kept. We pick our favorites and see if the judges agree.&amp;nbsp;It is just part of the tradition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I secretly always wanted to&amp;nbsp;be a Mummer -&amp;nbsp;to get dressed up and march down Broad Street with my umbrella in hand is something that would bring me great joy. But, being a Mummer is serious business. You have to join a club, practice and attend rehearsals for 6 months prior to the parade, learn an instrument (unfortunately, I can't roll my piano down Broad Street) and learn the&amp;nbsp;dance routines.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think this will always be a pipe dream, but I can still show my support by watching every year in my pajamas with my chart in hand.&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year to all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-8530538702646867289?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/8530538702646867289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/01/comics-wenches-mummers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8530538702646867289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8530538702646867289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2011/01/comics-wenches-mummers.html' title='Comics! Wenches! Mummers!'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TR9jbeX-7nI/AAAAAAAAADw/QpwqBus_IG8/s72-c/mummers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-6497937991469306690</id><published>2010-12-29T13:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-29T13:34:06.731-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Resolution for 2011: Unsubscribe!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TRt-N5E9DOI/AAAAAAAAADs/KvN8TqeBuMo/s1600/unsubscribe.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TRt-N5E9DOI/AAAAAAAAADs/KvN8TqeBuMo/s200/unsubscribe.JPG" width="158" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I subscribe to way too many email lists.&amp;nbsp; It is time to start weeding them out and&amp;nbsp;clean up my email inbox once and for all.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I went to Fandango. I recently purchased tickets to see Megamind.&amp;nbsp; It was very convenient - right down to printing the tickets out instead of standing in line on Christmas Day. But, after I saw the movie, I received 3 emails - one to confirm the tickets, one to see if I liked the movie (why do they care?) and one to offer me other tickets to buy. No thanks. &lt;strong&gt;Unsubscribe!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me a few extra minutes to figure out how to unsubscribe from Classmates.com.&amp;nbsp; I don't need this website now that there is Facebook.&amp;nbsp; Apparently, unsubscribing is not good enough. You must close your entire account.&amp;nbsp; Of course, this option is&amp;nbsp;not easy&amp;nbsp;to find on the website. When I found it, I acutally yelled out, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"A-HA, I found you!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; I was very pleased. &lt;strong&gt;Unsubscribe!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I went to my work email account where I was recently put on a list serve called Atomic Survival.&amp;nbsp; This&amp;nbsp;very scary&amp;nbsp;email tells me all about the people who are out to destroy the world and what I can do to save myself and my loved ones.&amp;nbsp; How I got on this email list - I do not know.&amp;nbsp;&lt;strong&gt; Unsubscribe! &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, if I could only find a way to unsubscribe from the emails that I get which are all in Hebrew.&amp;nbsp; Apparently, they don't understand English and refuse to release me from their strong cyber-grip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, there are the store websites that deliver sales information, coupons, free shipping and more.&amp;nbsp; These are the toughest ones for me to unsubscribe from.&amp;nbsp; For G-d sake, they provide me with coupons!!!&amp;nbsp; Why would I unsubscribe from savings?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll tell you why - because these companies email me once or twice a day and cause a blockage in my inbox that only a cyber-plumber could fix. &lt;strong&gt;Unsubscribe!&lt;/strong&gt; (Except for&amp;nbsp;maybe Barnes &amp;amp; Noble and Borders - I really&amp;nbsp;use those).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So, here is&amp;nbsp;New Year's Resolution #1&lt;/strong&gt; :&amp;nbsp;When I give&amp;nbsp;my email address to a website, I will look for the fine print and little check box that is always checked automatically for me to receive emails from now&amp;nbsp;until forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for more resolutions and Happy New Year!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-6497937991469306690?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/6497937991469306690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/new-resolution-for-2011-unsubscribe.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/6497937991469306690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/6497937991469306690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/new-resolution-for-2011-unsubscribe.html' title='A New Resolution for 2011: Unsubscribe!'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TRt-N5E9DOI/AAAAAAAAADs/KvN8TqeBuMo/s72-c/unsubscribe.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-9043586708041450743</id><published>2010-12-24T12:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T12:00:45.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Buried Treasures</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TRTRlubPHlI/AAAAAAAAADc/FKs0X7xvytg/s1600/closet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="138" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TRTRlubPHlI/AAAAAAAAADc/FKs0X7xvytg/s200/closet.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;While in the process of&amp;nbsp;my home makeover, I have taken a lot of time to go through my closets, playroom, attic and shed. I've uncovered many treasures to keep and others to part with. Here is a brief list:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby furniture - Goodbye to strollers, booster seats and exersaucers. You did us good, but our kids are too big to play with you now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Baby clothes - I parted with many clothes, but I had to keep a small sampling of how stylish my kids were as toddlers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maternity clothes - I had some great maternity clothes but now they too have been donated to someone who needs them. But, not before I went through each one and remembered my favorites. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures from my bachlorette party - I couldn't throw them away but I hope my kids don't find them anytime soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My corsage from my senior prom as well as pictures of me at other formal dances. My daughter decided she liked my Junior prom dress the best. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Old diaries that I will probably let my kids read some day. They are living proof that I was once their age a long time ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have to run, the next closet and piles of bags and boxes are calling my name. Feels good to purge lots of stuff and still take a walk down memory lane.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-9043586708041450743?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/9043586708041450743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/buried-treasures.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/9043586708041450743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/9043586708041450743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/buried-treasures.html' title='Buried Treasures'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TRTRlubPHlI/AAAAAAAAADc/FKs0X7xvytg/s72-c/closet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-8120946180028378685</id><published>2010-12-20T09:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T09:46:04.824-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Jewish Kids, Happy Jewish Mommy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TQ9jlHHFlAI/AAAAAAAAADQ/h8NUbchqg80/s1600/jewishmom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="67" n4="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TQ9jlHHFlAI/AAAAAAAAADQ/h8NUbchqg80/s200/jewishmom.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;For 364 days out of the year,&amp;nbsp;we are&amp;nbsp;your typical American family.&amp;nbsp; December 25th is the only day that we are different from many other American families. We are Jewish and therefore do not celebrate Christmas.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, I asked my kids what they thought&amp;nbsp;about not celebrating&amp;nbsp;Christmas and if they felt&amp;nbsp;left out.&amp;nbsp; I wasn't sure what response I would get.&amp;nbsp; With all of the&amp;nbsp;decorations,&amp;nbsp;music and&amp;nbsp;specials on tv,&amp;nbsp;it would only be natural&amp;nbsp;that they would feel a little left out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy to say though -&amp;nbsp; not my kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #3d85c6; color: #eeeeee;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My daughter said, "We got our Hanukkah presents two weeks ago &lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; it is our friends turn to get their presents this week."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #3d85c6;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #eeeeee;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #3d85c6; color: #eeeeee;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;My son said, "Christmas is very decorative." &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #eeeeee; color: black;"&gt;Perhaps, they&amp;nbsp;were dropping the hint that&amp;nbsp;I should channel my inner Martha Stewart and decorate a little more for Hanukkah next year.&amp;nbsp; I can do that.&amp;nbsp; I've got a year to figure out how.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we can&amp;nbsp;admire our neighbor's tree and Christmas lights down the street and not feel left out.&amp;nbsp; We will happily take any leftover Christmas cookies that they want to get rid of.&amp;nbsp; We can sleep in on Dec. 25th, then wake up and check&amp;nbsp;the movie&amp;nbsp;listings and finally see&amp;nbsp;movies that we never got to see.&amp;nbsp; We will finish off the day with family and friends enjoying Chinese food and spending quality time together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scott &amp;amp; I can take&amp;nbsp;great pride in the fact that&amp;nbsp;two weeks ago we gave&amp;nbsp;our kids the best Hanukkah&amp;nbsp;we could -&amp;nbsp;complete with dreidel games, menorah lighting, great Hanukkah songs and presents.&amp;nbsp; They went to a&amp;nbsp;festive Hanukkah service, enjoyed Israeli dancing and a big chocolate&amp;nbsp;feast&amp;nbsp;of gelt and treats at&amp;nbsp;our synagogue. Throw in a few&amp;nbsp;Hanukkah parties thrown by family and friends and we can call it a great holiday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Starting this Sunday,&amp;nbsp;we&amp;nbsp;can go back to our normal lives and ask the question that will be on everyone else's mind - what are we doing&amp;nbsp;on New Year's Eve?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-8120946180028378685?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/8120946180028378685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/happy-jewish-kids-happy-jewish-mommy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8120946180028378685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8120946180028378685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/happy-jewish-kids-happy-jewish-mommy.html' title='Happy Jewish Kids, Happy Jewish Mommy'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TQ9jlHHFlAI/AAAAAAAAADQ/h8NUbchqg80/s72-c/jewishmom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-3800470447653352157</id><published>2010-12-17T09:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:19:20.375-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom Moments'/><title type='text'>Winter Gear Missing Alert!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TQt6RlHHX6I/AAAAAAAAADM/B3Cf6s1QbkQ/s1600/gloves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" n4="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TQt6RlHHX6I/AAAAAAAAADM/B3Cf6s1QbkQ/s1600/gloves.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ATTENTION!&lt;/strong&gt; Frustrated suburban mom is putting out an APB on 2 red gloves and a blue lunchbox with a J embroidered on the front. Gloves last seen on the small hands of a 7 year old boy. Lunchbox last seen in the company of a 4th grader on the school playground. If found, please post on FB so that I can come pick them up and don't have to spend more hard earned money on said lost essential items.&lt;br /&gt;Suspects who lost the above items were properly interrogated at 8:15 am (approx. 15 minutes before we have to leave for school). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;"Where are your gloves?" "Bring me your lunchbox. What do you mean you left it at school?" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Typical Responses:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know." &lt;br /&gt;"I was in a hurry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Academy Award Response for Best Child Performance of Coming Up With A Good Excuse&lt;/strong&gt; - "Mom, the girls were chasing me on the playground and pulled off my gloves and I couldn't get them back." (Note to young son - you aren't being chased by 6 ft giants on the playground. Go get your gloves off the ground!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Action taken:&lt;/strong&gt; Suspects were provided with the same lecture that this suburban mom was given by her parents 30 (gulp!) years ago. It was probably as effective then as it is now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, how many pairs of gloves and scarves and lunchboxes will go missing from your house this year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. - &lt;strong&gt;An UPDATE&lt;/strong&gt;: Gloves and lunchbox were retrieved from the floor of the backseat of this suburban mom's SUV. &lt;strong&gt;CASE CLOSED!&lt;/strong&gt; (Note to self - give suspects the equally ineffective lecture about bringing their belongings into the house from the car).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-3800470447653352157?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/3800470447653352157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/winter-gear-missing-alert.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3800470447653352157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3800470447653352157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/winter-gear-missing-alert.html' title='Winter Gear Missing Alert!'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TQt6RlHHX6I/AAAAAAAAADM/B3Cf6s1QbkQ/s72-c/gloves.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-8095567787360910642</id><published>2010-12-12T09:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:20:20.161-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Thoughts'/><title type='text'>My Weird Travel Habit</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TQTXMtZyKRI/AAAAAAAAADE/6JZDpDdcSw0/s1600/airplane.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="149" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TQTXMtZyKRI/AAAAAAAAADE/6JZDpDdcSw0/s200/airplane.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Before I get on any airplane, I have to tap it twice on the outside&amp;nbsp;to the right of the door&amp;nbsp;- as if to say &lt;em&gt;"Good plane - get&amp;nbsp;me there safe and sound."&lt;/em&gt;&amp;nbsp; I know&amp;nbsp;this is silly, but it makes me feel better about flying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, I flew back to Philly from Las Vegas. After&amp;nbsp;boarding&amp;nbsp;the plane and tapping the side of the plane as usual, I sat down&amp;nbsp;in my seat and pulled out my&amp;nbsp;People magazine. Much to my surprise,&amp;nbsp;I found out that the&amp;nbsp;cute guy who does those Old Spice commericals&amp;nbsp;said&amp;nbsp;his weird travel&amp;nbsp;habit is to tap the plane &lt;strong&gt;three times&lt;/strong&gt; before he&amp;nbsp;boards his flight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow! I&amp;nbsp;was so&amp;nbsp;relieved that someone out there didn't think I was crazy.&amp;nbsp;But then I thought -&amp;nbsp;how silly for him to tap the plane three times when &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;twice&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; works just fine!&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, fess up - what is your weirdest travel habit???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-8095567787360910642?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/8095567787360910642/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-weirdest-travel-habit.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8095567787360910642'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8095567787360910642'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/my-weirdest-travel-habit.html' title='My Weird Travel Habit'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TQTXMtZyKRI/AAAAAAAAADE/6JZDpDdcSw0/s72-c/airplane.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-5244081698880903564</id><published>2010-12-08T05:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-08T05:47:52.345-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Well, Excuuuuuse Me!</title><content type='html'>I am choosing between two companies to handle&amp;nbsp;online payments for the new synagogue website.&amp;nbsp; I'm a pretty smart cookie but I don't know the difference between a Gateway and a merchant login.&amp;nbsp; And I couldn't tell you the ins and outs of encrypted credit card numbers to save my life.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sure that the representative I spoke to gives this speech 100x a day.&amp;nbsp; After&amp;nbsp;he explained everything to me -&amp;nbsp;while speaking at the speed of light -&amp;nbsp;I asked him a few questions&amp;nbsp;in an attempt to slow him down so that I could understand what he was talking about.&amp;nbsp; This was the sarcastic response I got -&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: blue;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: blue;"&gt;Ma'am,&amp;nbsp;I'm not sure how I can explain&amp;nbsp;this any clearer to you"&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think someone needs to brush up on their people skills.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-5244081698880903564?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5244081698880903564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/well-excuuuuuse-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/5244081698880903564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/5244081698880903564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/well-excuuuuuse-me.html' title='Well, Excuuuuuse Me!'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-2949874904732057446</id><published>2010-12-07T09:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:19:36.358-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Why I don't keep an "S-list"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TP5IUsw6QzI/AAAAAAAAADA/7s3UN_VTz9E/s1600/happy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TP5IUsw6QzI/AAAAAAAAADA/7s3UN_VTz9E/s200/happy.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Recently, someone asked me if they were on my "s-list."&amp;nbsp; I assured her that not only was she not on my list, but that I don't even keep such a list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the concept of an "s-list" is just not in my nature.&amp;nbsp; There are many people in my life who love and support me&amp;nbsp;for who I am and&amp;nbsp;what I do.&amp;nbsp; There are other people&amp;nbsp;who do not.&amp;nbsp; These people&amp;nbsp;are not on any "s-list" because I don't spend&amp;nbsp;my precious&amp;nbsp;time worrying about them.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; Why&amp;nbsp;focus my energy on those who have wronged me and in turn be miserable?&amp;nbsp; What lesson does it teach my kids to be&amp;nbsp;constantly upset and aggravated all of the time? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a great book that came out last year called&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/The-Happiness-Project/Gretchen-Rubin/e/9780061583254/?itm=1&amp;amp;USRI=the+happiness+project+or+why+i+spent+a+year"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"The Happiness Project."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp; It tells the true story of an author who spent a year focusing on things she can do every day&amp;nbsp;to be happier&amp;nbsp;in her life.&amp;nbsp; I loved this book and decided that I would much&amp;nbsp;rather be a happy person too.&amp;nbsp; Here are some values in&amp;nbsp;Judaism that prevent me from ever having such a list and keep me happy, such as:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Shalom Bayit - Family Harmony&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gemilut Khesed - Acts of Loving-Kindness&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hakhnasat Orkhim - Acts of Hospitality&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;By embracing these things in my own life,&amp;nbsp;I will thankfully never&amp;nbsp;have a need for such a list.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-2949874904732057446?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2949874904732057446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/why-i-dont-have-s-list.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2949874904732057446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2949874904732057446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/why-i-dont-have-s-list.html' title='Why I don&apos;t keep an &quot;S-list&quot;'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TP5IUsw6QzI/AAAAAAAAADA/7s3UN_VTz9E/s72-c/happy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-7231671082125465708</id><published>2010-12-06T07:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-06T07:03:31.285-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Weight Watchers...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TPzQ2dNVnWI/AAAAAAAAAC8/hyoifFp_kLQ/s1600/scale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="132" ox="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TPzQ2dNVnWI/AAAAAAAAAC8/hyoifFp_kLQ/s200/scale.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Most of the time, I go with the flow.&amp;nbsp; I embrace change because I know that change is good and always constant.&amp;nbsp; While&amp;nbsp;I appreciate your approach to a more healthy way of eating,&amp;nbsp; there are major changes in your program that take away what I love most about WW - convenience!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For instance, my points slider has become ineffective immediately as you are no longer counting calories in the mix when figuring out points value.&amp;nbsp; Now, you are asking me to purchase a $10 calculator to take with me to the supermarket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My favorite Hungry Girl recipes are all labeled with the old points system. Not to mention that I already knew the points values of my favorite foods.&amp;nbsp; It is going to take a lot of time to recalculate all of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully, I'll get around to&amp;nbsp;embracing this change in my life. It would have been nice if you waited until January to roll out the new program. Aren't we busy enough in December?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-7231671082125465708?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7231671082125465708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/dear-weight-watchers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/7231671082125465708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/7231671082125465708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/12/dear-weight-watchers.html' title='Dear Weight Watchers...'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TPzQ2dNVnWI/AAAAAAAAAC8/hyoifFp_kLQ/s72-c/scale.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-2332433582161598839</id><published>2010-11-27T15:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T15:27:15.444-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On my mind...</title><content type='html'>I've just spent the last half hour writing 3&amp;nbsp;posts - none of which I find remotely interesting enough to share at this time.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is hard to get one thought together when I've&amp;nbsp;got&amp;nbsp;too much on my mind.&amp;nbsp;For instance, I'm trying to figure out how to pack for a 3 day business trip using one carry on suitcase.&amp;nbsp; Somehow, I have to get my big, bulky hair dryer in that little bag.&amp;nbsp; I hope I can do it.&amp;nbsp; The hotel hair dryer is never good enough for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday, I'm starting my "OMG I'm turning 40 soon" diet.&amp;nbsp; My friend and I have vowed to be accountable to each other, keep a food diary, know the points value for every food we eat, try out a few new HG recipes and get to the gym a few more times a week. I gotta get to that certain number on the scale by February!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I'm headed out to meet a bunch of old friends that I haven't seen in about 20 years. It is my SRJ BBYO&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt; (translated to be the South Jersey Region of the&amp;nbsp;B'nai Brith Youth Organization)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;reunion.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Will they even recognize me? I suppose those who are my FB friends will.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It will either be a short visit or a long night.&amp;nbsp; Either way - I'm looking forward to it.&amp;nbsp; In my teenage years, these people changed&amp;nbsp;my life&amp;nbsp;in so many good&amp;nbsp;ways and I'm eternally&amp;nbsp;grateful for that.&amp;nbsp; I made lots of friends when I had so few in school.&amp;nbsp; I found my self confidence&amp;nbsp;and learned how much I had to contribute to the world.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;We share a&amp;nbsp;lot of&amp;nbsp;memories from the old JCC on Rt. 70 and summer camp that always bring a smile to my face. It will be great to reminisce with them about the good ole days. LOL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you enjoy what is left of your four day weekend! I know I will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-2332433582161598839?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2332433582161598839/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/11/on-my-mind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2332433582161598839'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2332433582161598839'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/11/on-my-mind.html' title='On my mind...'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-2325386301076542461</id><published>2010-11-25T09:01:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-25T09:01:58.391-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So thankful...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TOzw0MX85II/AAAAAAAAAC0/zGHR6cMwgNE/s1600/turkey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TOzw0MX85II/AAAAAAAAAC0/zGHR6cMwgNE/s1600/turkey.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Every Thanksgiving, I am always thankful that I am not a turkey. Having said that, there are so many other things to be thankful for. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For my husband&lt;/strong&gt;,&amp;nbsp;- for&amp;nbsp;too many reasons to count.&amp;nbsp; This year, I'm particularly thankful for his new job in Philadelphia that he enjoys and gets to trade in his 5 hour NYC commute for a&amp;nbsp;25&amp;nbsp;minute train ride. Our quaility family time is 100% better and we are all grateful for that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For my daughter&lt;/strong&gt;, who does well in school, has inherited my dry sense of humor and comedic timing, makes her own breakfast and loves to organize things around the house, asks me what I did at work today, takes an interest in everything&amp;nbsp;and goes out of her way to be nice to people every day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For my son&lt;/strong&gt;, who does well in school, who cracks me up with his words and his antics (especially his impression of the Cake Boss),&amp;nbsp;his&amp;nbsp;boyish charm, and the fact that he&amp;nbsp;gives me hugs and kisses every chance he gets.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For my parents,&lt;/strong&gt; who raised me as a Phillies fan, a good egg, a people person and who always encourage me to follow my dreams.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For my in-laws&lt;/strong&gt;, who help&amp;nbsp;me at a drop of a hat, share their hearts, home, words of wisdom and fantastic clothes that my mother-in-law doesn't wear anymore.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For my home&lt;/strong&gt;, which is full of love and&amp;nbsp;laughter, clutter&amp;nbsp;and chaos. I wouldn't have it any other way.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For my job&lt;/strong&gt;, which perfectly matches my skills, personality and faith.&amp;nbsp; Every day is an opportunity to help someone form a connection whether with each other or within&amp;nbsp;the&amp;nbsp;community.&amp;nbsp; I'm lucky to be in a position to make that &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;shidduch&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; (match). I'm also thankful that I work with such wonderful people every day.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;For all of my friends&lt;/strong&gt;, from our summertime Drinks on the Driveway parties with my neighbors to hanging out with girlfriends at a great restaurant, to "talking" on FB - I am thankful for the laughs shared, stories told and lasting memories.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Finally, I am thankful for reaching this stage of my life.&amp;nbsp; In my 20's and 30's, I&amp;nbsp;spent plenty of time figuring&amp;nbsp;out who I was and what I want. Now that I am on the verge of a new decade, I am happy with who I am, appreciate what I have and happy that I still have dreams to make come true.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Happy Thanksgiving to&amp;nbsp;all!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-2325386301076542461?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2325386301076542461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/11/so-thankful.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2325386301076542461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2325386301076542461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/11/so-thankful.html' title='So thankful...'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TOzw0MX85II/AAAAAAAAAC0/zGHR6cMwgNE/s72-c/turkey.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-8983964710199325520</id><published>2010-11-23T15:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-23T15:16:21.133-05:00</updated><title type='text'>8 days til Hanukkah</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TOwV0ilogZI/AAAAAAAAACw/YfgXuusNwl4/s1600/dreidels.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ox="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TOwV0ilogZI/AAAAAAAAACw/YfgXuusNwl4/s1600/dreidels.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Preparing for Hanukkah can never&amp;nbsp;top&amp;nbsp;what my friends do to&amp;nbsp;get ready to celebrate&amp;nbsp;Christmas.&amp;nbsp; We don't hang lights, bake cookies&amp;nbsp;or decorate trees.&amp;nbsp; However, there&amp;nbsp;are plenty of things to do and this year - there is not&amp;nbsp;a lot of time to get it all done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Eight Crazy Nights&lt;/strong&gt; - Do I have presents for each night for each child?&amp;nbsp; Where can I find Hanukkah paper when all I see is aisles of red and green gift wrap?&amp;nbsp;Do I have enough gelt (chocolate coins)?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Light One Candle - &lt;/strong&gt;Did I clean out the wax from the menorah after the 8th night of Hanukkah last year?&amp;nbsp; Where is the electric menorah for the window?&amp;nbsp; Do I need to buy Hanukkah candles?&amp;nbsp;Remind the kids to brush up on their Hanukkah blessings.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Did you remember to&amp;nbsp;check the oil? &lt;/strong&gt;- Do I have enough vegetable oil to&amp;nbsp;cook the latkes in?&amp;nbsp; Am I grating potato from scratch (remember the garbage disposal disaster of 2009)?&amp;nbsp; Hmm - maybe I'll buy the mix.&amp;nbsp; Oh wait, who has the Weight Watchers recipe for the potato latkes?&amp;nbsp; Who is bringing the sour cream and applesauce?&amp;nbsp;Don't forget that&amp;nbsp;my kids like&amp;nbsp;ketchup on their latkes.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What's the story&lt;/strong&gt;?&amp;nbsp;Are all of the Hanukkah books readily available for&amp;nbsp;our reading pleasure?&amp;nbsp; Each night, I read one Hanukkah story to my kids. Given half the chance I would&amp;nbsp;read&amp;nbsp;&lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Where-Is-Babys-Dreidel/Karen-Katz/e/9781416936237/?itm=14&amp;amp;USRI=hanukkah+books"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Where is Baby's Dreidel?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/Sammy-Spiders-First-Hanukkah/Sylvia-A-Rouss/e/9780929371467/?itm=1&amp;amp;USRI=sammy+the+spider+first+hanukkah"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sammy Spider's First Hanukkah&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; for&amp;nbsp;my little nephews.&amp;nbsp; My kids&amp;nbsp;personal favorites are - &lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/The-Latke-Who-Couldnt-Stop-Screaming/Lemony-Snicket/e/9781932416879/?itm=1&amp;amp;USRI=the+latke+who+screamed"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Latke Who Couldn't Stop Screaming&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;by Lemony Snicket and &lt;a href="http://search.barnesandnoble.com/The-Borrowed-Hanukkah-Latkes/Linda-Glaser/e/9780807508428/pwb=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;The Borrowed Hanukkah Latkes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dreidels, Dreidels and more Dreidels - &lt;/strong&gt;I don't encourage gambling in my house but when it comes to dreidel - we take no prisoners. Give me a gimmel (to take the entire pot of candy) or a hay for half the pot of candy (I'm on a diet).&amp;nbsp; No shins (put one in the pot) or nuns (no gelt for you!) here. Bring it on. From &lt;a href="http://www.texasdreidel.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Texas Dreidel&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; to &lt;a href="http://www.holidays.net/chanukah/dreidel.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Traditional Dreidel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt; to dreidel spinning contests - we've got it all!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It's Not Just The Dreidel Song Anymore&lt;/strong&gt; - Yes, I had a little dreidel and I made it out of clay.&amp;nbsp; Did you know that this is not the only Hanukkah song out there. Not even close. Here&amp;nbsp;is one of my favorites - a&amp;nbsp;YouTube video: &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KsBbTyak59I"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pass the Candle&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. If you like Laurie Berkner-esque music, check out &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWHkI3LbgQw"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;Chanukah Fever&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;and &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AaFb7hquTFY&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Funky Gold Menorah&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;from the Mama Doni Band.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;For a great (and brief) kid's video explaining the holiday,&amp;nbsp;check out &lt;a href="http://www.g-dcast.com/"&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;http://www.g-dcast.com/&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oy Vey! I think I'd better get moving .... 8 days til the 1st night of Hanukkah and so much to do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chag Sameach! Happy Thanksgiving and a joyous&amp;nbsp;Hanukkah to all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-8983964710199325520?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/8983964710199325520/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/11/8-days-til-hanukkah.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8983964710199325520'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8983964710199325520'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/11/8-days-til-hanukkah.html' title='8 days til Hanukkah'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TOwV0ilogZI/AAAAAAAAACw/YfgXuusNwl4/s72-c/dreidels.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-1871389683720679943</id><published>2010-11-11T16:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T16:40:02.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sacred Space</title><content type='html'>This week at my professional conference I learned about the idea of "sacred space." When asked what I do within my sacred space, I said that I spend the time with my children. But, while this is a nice thought - the true definition of&amp;nbsp;sacred space is finding a moment to myself - to breathe, to relax and be in the moment.&amp;nbsp; Sounds hard doesn't it? I think so too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Dallas, I was fortunate&amp;nbsp;to create sacred space for myself.&amp;nbsp; It is easy to do when there are no kids around, the phone isn't ringing off the hook and&amp;nbsp;no email in front of my face.&amp;nbsp; It was easy to listen to those around me share their experiences, absorb what I could and plan for the future. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I am back and I have a suitcase to unpack and kids to take to karate and help with their homework,&amp;nbsp;not to mention&amp;nbsp;about 80 emails to go through, sacred space seems like a foreign concept to me - again. But, for my own sanity, I must find it once a day.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit that I'm still looking for it today, but I am determined to find it before I lay my head on my pillow to go to sleep tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-1871389683720679943?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/1871389683720679943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/11/sacred-space.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/1871389683720679943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/1871389683720679943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/11/sacred-space.html' title='Sacred Space'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-7679669330660229686</id><published>2010-10-31T10:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T09:20:00.524-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Random Thoughts'/><title type='text'>Going to the Gym: 5 am vs. 5 pm</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TM135riZiFI/AAAAAAAAACk/Rby0OCZJiMc/s1600/workout.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="150" nx="true" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TM135riZiFI/AAAAAAAAACk/Rby0OCZJiMc/s200/workout.JPG" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Life is very hetic these days. So, in order to get the necessary amount of exercise that&amp;nbsp;I need to lose weight, de-stress,&amp;nbsp;and stay healthy, I have to resort to waking up at 5 am (ish) and head to the gym. My&amp;nbsp;friends tell me that&amp;nbsp;I crazy, but truthfully - it is not that bad.&amp;nbsp; Here is what people say and how I rationalize it:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: blue;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: white; color: blue;"&gt;It's Cold Out There!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;- It is dark and cold at 5 am and soon enough it will be dark and cold at 5 pm&amp;nbsp;as we get closer to wintertime. So, in my mind, it makes no difference. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"I'll Never Get Out Of the House!"-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As long as I sleep in&amp;nbsp;my work out clothes and have my Ipod charged and my keys and&amp;nbsp;shoes by the front door the night before, it is really a no-brainer to get out of the house.&amp;nbsp; &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"There is no one at the gym at that hour!"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; Actually, the parking lot is pretty crowded at 5 am.&amp;nbsp; I was surprised about this too. And even with all of these people at the gym,&amp;nbsp;I've&amp;nbsp;never had to wait for a treadmill or a weight machine.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"My friends won't go with me."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; I use this to my benefit. I like to work out alone. It is quality "me time."&amp;nbsp; And, being at the gym&amp;nbsp;is&amp;nbsp;serious&amp;nbsp;business at&amp;nbsp;5 am.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Lots of exercising and very little&amp;nbsp;chit chat.&amp;nbsp;If you are getting up at that ungodly hour - make it worth your while to get in a good work out.&amp;nbsp; Whenever I go at 5 pm, the gym&amp;nbsp;feels more like a happy hour. There is lots of talking and socializing&amp;nbsp;with a little exercise in between.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Although I&amp;nbsp;rarely talk to&amp;nbsp;anyone&amp;nbsp;at&amp;nbsp;the gym,&amp;nbsp;I am very motivated by watching others work out.&amp;nbsp;I get&amp;nbsp;some great ideas and I like the fact that&amp;nbsp;there are fewer people watching, laughing, and pointing at me as I attempt to try new things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a husband, two kids, a full time job, loads of activities&amp;nbsp;and dinner to put on the table, there is just no way that I'm getting to the gym at 5 pm. An early morning workout allows me to cross something off my to-do list and&amp;nbsp;start my day with lots of energy and a smile. You should try it sometime. Let me know how it goes. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-7679669330660229686?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7679669330660229686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/10/going-to-gym-5-am-vs-5-pm.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/7679669330660229686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/7679669330660229686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/10/going-to-gym-5-am-vs-5-pm.html' title='Going to the Gym: 5 am vs. 5 pm'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TM135riZiFI/AAAAAAAAACk/Rby0OCZJiMc/s72-c/workout.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-8558906510612742529</id><published>2010-10-28T09:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T10:44:05.189-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello, Yeah It's Been A While...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TMY-Z97jwXI/AAAAAAAAACc/K-QZve6Xg2g/s1600/hello.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" nx="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TMY-Z97jwXI/AAAAAAAAACc/K-QZve6Xg2g/s1600/hello.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"&gt;Welcome to a new&amp;nbsp;&amp;amp; improved &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"&gt;Kvell Corner! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been 6 months since I've updated my blog and all I can say is that I am sorry about that.&amp;nbsp; But, I'm not necessarily apologizing to you (no offense).&amp;nbsp; I'm forgiving myself for all of the detours I've taken from one of the things that I love to do most of all - writing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't believe in signs but I do believe that things happen for a reason. There are two things that recently happened to convince me to&amp;nbsp;start blogging again.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I took a class on blogging.&amp;nbsp; At work, we have been&amp;nbsp;playing around with the idea of creating a blog.&amp;nbsp; Our attempts have been well received but - like many blogs - it went unattended.&amp;nbsp; I wanted to find out&amp;nbsp;about best practices and how&amp;nbsp;to use blogs to&amp;nbsp;be both a resource and a personal&amp;nbsp;connection to our community.&amp;nbsp; But, I was also secretly hoping it would&amp;nbsp;be just the push I needed to write again.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the end of class, I&amp;nbsp;was so excited about blogging again that I went home and put my new skills to use. &lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;(How do you like my new template?).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day, I opened my mailbox to find O magazine&amp;nbsp;and the theme for the month is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;"What Is Your True Calling?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&amp;nbsp; Normally, I don't&amp;nbsp;have the time to read O magazine cover to cover but I devoured this issue. It spoke to me as if I had my&amp;nbsp;own personal coach.&amp;nbsp;I've been reading the articles over and over again, but&amp;nbsp;my favorite one is written by personal coach and writer, Martha Beck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She&amp;nbsp;wrote about&amp;nbsp;the GPS in her car. When she gets lost,&amp;nbsp;her GPS adjusts itself to show her how to get where she is going with a soothing tone&amp;nbsp;creating a&amp;nbsp;stress-free environment.&amp;nbsp; You never hear&amp;nbsp;a GPS say - &lt;span style="color: #073763;"&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;you idiot, where are you going?"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; And&amp;nbsp;we should never&amp;nbsp;hear&amp;nbsp;those words in our own minds either. &amp;nbsp;In her article, she encourages all&amp;nbsp;of us to&amp;nbsp;listen to our inner GPS, stop punishing ourselves for&amp;nbsp;not following&amp;nbsp;our hearts, and find&amp;nbsp;our true&amp;nbsp;calling.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;It's good advice and I'm taking it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm back to blogging and I'm so happy about it!&amp;nbsp;This blog is purely personal, but I'm hoping to branch out to blogging&amp;nbsp;in my professional life&amp;nbsp;and other writing pursuits.&amp;nbsp;Writing is not a chore for me. It brings me a lot of joy and satisfaction.&amp;nbsp;It is a calling.&amp;nbsp;It is even more&amp;nbsp;enjoyable when others respond with comments to my posts.&amp;nbsp; It is nice to know that I'm not just writing&amp;nbsp;for my own enjoyment. LOL!&amp;nbsp; My next goal is to find a focus for my blog. Right now, it will be random "slice of life" posts, but I hope it will be much more than that - someday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-8558906510612742529?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/8558906510612742529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/10/hello-yeah-its-been-while.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8558906510612742529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/8558906510612742529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/10/hello-yeah-its-been-while.html' title='Hello, Yeah It&apos;s Been A While...'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/TMY-Z97jwXI/AAAAAAAAACc/K-QZve6Xg2g/s72-c/hello.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-5736185228004733833</id><published>2010-03-22T22:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T22:52:20.184-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tears of joy and sorrow</title><content type='html'>This has been a week of great highs and lows. I'll start out on a high note. For a little over 3 months, I've been losing weight and working to achieve my goal of finishing a 5K race by spring. I'm proud to say that after waking up at 5:30 every other morning and making the time in my day to exercise, I have accomplished both of these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In order to get motivated and train for the 5K, I enlisted the help of a personal trainer - my friend and fellow synagogue member, Rebecca Kahn. (If anyone wants her number, I'm happy to oblige). She put me on a program and step by step I started to get stronger. She coached me through every thought, feeling, ache &amp;amp; pain and promised that I would run a 5K in the early spring. At first, I thought she was crazy, but it turned out she was right. Together, we ran the entire 5K on Sunday. I finished in 36 minutes and 24 seconds. Many finished ahead of me, but I wasn't the last one either. When I crossed the finish line, I am not ashamed to say that I broke down in tears of joy - totally amazed at my accomplishment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More tears occurred earlier in the week when our shul lost a bright star, Natan - a 13 year old boy who was killed in a terrible accident. Natan means "gift" and he truly was that to our community. A boy whose smile lit up the bima when he sang with the junior choir and just weeks ago as the king in our Purim shpiel (play). His intelligence was beyond his years. In the days following his death, I learned that he had great passion for everything he did in his life from tennis to chess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I ran the 5K on Sunday, I thought of him and his "can do" attitude which further inspired me to run that race in his memory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-5736185228004733833?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5736185228004733833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/03/tears-of-joy-and-sorrow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/5736185228004733833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/5736185228004733833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/03/tears-of-joy-and-sorrow.html' title='Tears of joy and sorrow'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-912931369262723628</id><published>2010-03-14T18:52:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T19:04:02.748-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What happened to the weekend?</title><content type='html'>It is almost 7 pm on Sunday and I feel like another weekend has passed me by.  Weekends are supposed to be for R&amp;amp;R, right?  Lately, they are extentions of the work week with errands, kids birthday parties, food shopping, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This particular weekend, I was sick with a terrible cold which kept me out of commission from Wednesday to Saturday.  Today, I worked in the morning, played catch-up with the laundry and now I am preparing myself for the chaos that Monday mornings normally bring. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have time to sit at the Sisterhood Ladies Tea at the synagogue this afternoon with my daughter which was nice.  It was basically the only time that I sat down all day.  I should have savored the moment more because 2 hours later I found myself scrubbing down the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I look forward to next weekend, there is nothing on the calendar.  Nothing that is until Sunday, when I am going to run in my first 5K ever.  I'm excited because it looks like next weekend could be my next chance for some R&amp;amp;R.  I hope...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-912931369262723628?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/912931369262723628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/03/what-happened-to-weekend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/912931369262723628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/912931369262723628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/03/what-happened-to-weekend.html' title='What happened to the weekend?'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-5012468901877927014</id><published>2010-03-08T22:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T22:41:00.490-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Worried for nothing...</title><content type='html'>When my daughter first joined the junior choir at the synagogue, I feared that it would hamper her ability to read Hebrew. I though that she would memorize the songs and liturgy and that would be it. I asked the choir director and cantor if my worries were valid. They politely told me not to worry. And it turns out - much to my delight - that I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I hear her read from her Hebrew primer (10 minutes a night, 5x a week -most of the time LOL), she recognizes the words and starts singing a prayer or part of a song that she learned in choir practice for Family services. Tonight's word was &lt;strong&gt;"oneg"&lt;/strong&gt; - oh yeah - she knew what that was. (For those who don't know - the oneg is the cookies and desserts served after Shabbat services). She gets excited that she recognized the word and goes on to read what other words are familiar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hebrew is taught in such a different way now than when I was a kid (Thank G-d!). I remember my primitive primer with endless lines of text and the hebrew letter of the week centered at the top of the page in 36 pt. font size. Today's Hebrew primer has colorful pictures, writing activities, and basic words and themes that relate to the words she is reading. And guess what - it comes with a computer game too! She can play Hebrew video games and listen to someone read the words back to her to make sure she got them right. Positive reinforcement - Love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even my 6 year old, who doesn't start Hebrew for another 2 1/2 years follows along. Who could ask for anything more?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-5012468901877927014?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5012468901877927014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/03/worried-for-nothing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/5012468901877927014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/5012468901877927014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/03/worried-for-nothing.html' title='Worried for nothing...'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-3130086509881899426</id><published>2010-03-04T14:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T22:02:47.884-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jewish Holidays'/><title type='text'>An 80's Purim Shpiel in the works...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/S5A9y68scKI/AAAAAAAAABY/eJwaiEMqmD8/s1600-h/IMG_3239.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444919894517510306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/S5A9y68scKI/AAAAAAAAABY/eJwaiEMqmD8/s320/IMG_3239.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After the Purim Schpiel (play) ended and we finished up the last of the hamantashen, I started to think about next year's celebration. As a program director, I am always thinking ahead and trying to come up with creative ideas. While Purim is not one of the holidays I oversee, I thought about what kind of Purim Shpiel I wanted to see next year. And then it hit me - &lt;strong&gt;a Totally Radical 80's Purim Shpiel&lt;/strong&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a child of the 80's and huge fan of movies, music and the lingo (which I manage to slip into regular conversation from time to time), I started to think of how &lt;em&gt;"totally awesome"&lt;/em&gt; it would be. The first song was easy - Vashti could sing "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" right after she says (in a Valley Girl voice) "Dude - I am not going to your party...like gag me with a spoon!" When the king chooses a new queen, we hear Mambo #5 as the theme music ("A little bit of Monica in my life; a little bit of Erica by my side ...").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it is a work in progress, but I have visions of Haman quoting Bender in the Breakfast Club with his iconic quote, "You couldn't ignore me if you tried" and the entire cast at the end putting on sunglasses and dancing to "The Future's So Bright - I Gotta Wear Shades.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I've got a year to work on it...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-3130086509881899426?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/3130086509881899426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/03/80s-purim-shpiel-in-works.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3130086509881899426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3130086509881899426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/03/80s-purim-shpiel-in-works.html' title='An 80&apos;s Purim Shpiel in the works...'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/S5A9y68scKI/AAAAAAAAABY/eJwaiEMqmD8/s72-c/IMG_3239.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-1654791254122942664</id><published>2010-02-24T10:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T10:19:25.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oy Vey! More Snow?</title><content type='html'>Just when I thought it was safe to put the shovel and snowman kits away and just in time for my son to lose his snow gloves at school, the weather forecast calls for more snow.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have picked this year to go to spring training in Florida this week. :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-1654791254122942664?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/1654791254122942664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/02/oy-vey-more-snow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/1654791254122942664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/1654791254122942664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/02/oy-vey-more-snow.html' title='Oy Vey! More Snow?'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-3482279019369401649</id><published>2010-02-20T22:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T23:13:57.526-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Born to Run?</title><content type='html'>I have a love/hate relationship with exercise.  I love the way I feel after I am done exercising, but I hate getting myself out there to actually do it.  I thought I tried everything - I am not coordinated enough to take any of the classes.  I usually get frustrated at my lack of balance and endurance and leave soon after class starts.  I liked the spin class for a while, but if you don't get there early enough (and I mean REALLY early in the morning) - you don't get a bike.  Weight lifting is a little too intimidating, but I am willing to get into a routine.  The eliptical machine has been a long time friend - but is now getting a little dull.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only thing that I have found that I enjoy - to my great surprise- is running.  I love the cool air in my face when I run outside.  I love listening to my Ipod playlists with corny songs like the theme from Rocky and my favorite 90's big hair heavy metal tunes.  The best part is that it is truly "me time."  No one is running after me with a question or an issue that needs to be solved right away.  This is my time to let out a little stress, listen to my tunes, and let my mind wander.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In order to get the essence of running, I've hired a personal trainer.  We meet once a month and she keeps me motivated, gives me a plan and sage advice to ensure success.  Best money I've ever spent!  Why should my kids get all of the money to do fun activities.  While I won't keep my trainer forever, having her by my side or just a phone call away keeps me motivated, dedicated and committed to my goal.  And it is paying off! I've lost about 8lbs so far.  My legs are looking a little less flabby and I'm losing a little of my muffin top.  Thanks to her - I've set a new goal for myself - to run and cross the finish line of a 5K race this spring. Wish me luck...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To end, this Jersey girl quotes that infamous Jersey boy from my playlist - "Baby,(maybe) we were born to run...."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-3482279019369401649?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/3482279019369401649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/02/born-to-run.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3482279019369401649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/3482279019369401649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2010/02/born-to-run.html' title='Born to Run?'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-5399318065107534189</id><published>2009-11-24T17:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T22:02:35.654-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jewish Holidays'/><title type='text'>A Hanukkah Survey</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/SwxZ37taHvI/AAAAAAAAABQ/7cy01E3Px5Y/s1600/Hanukkah.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 192px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/SwxZ37taHvI/AAAAAAAAABQ/7cy01E3Px5Y/s200/Hanukkah.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407796070020947698" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This survey is going around the Jewish professional blogs and so I thought I'd share it with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;One menorah, or several? &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We own 9 menorahs (thanks to the Jewish preschool - we have 6 homemade ones). We only use 3 though on each night of Hanukkah - one for the family and the kids each have one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you buy your children gifts for every night of Chanukah?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They get a gift from us for 6 nights. The other two nights they receive gifts from the grandparents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you and your spouse/partner or any other adults in your life exchange gifts?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We exchange with kids and adults alike.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Special family chanukah traditions?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We invite our Jewish neighbors and neighbors of other faiths to our house to celebrate Hanukkah complete with pizza, latkes, munchkins, menorah lighting and dreidel. We also attend the synagogue Hanukkah events and spend time with each of our families during the week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Latkes or sufganiyot? If latkes, sour cream or applesauce?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is this for boring - Weight Watchers latkes with low fat sour cream or applesauce for me. Everyone else gets the real thing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Favorite chanukah book?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lemony Snicket's The Latke Who Couldn't Stop Screaming. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Do you actually play dreidl? If so, what do you use for counters?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, we play dreidel and we use m&amp;ms or pennies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What relationship, if any, do you have with Christmas and all things Christmas-y?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chinese food and movies, of course! Actually, my favorite songs this time of year are Bruce Springsteen's rendition of Santa Claus is Coming to Town. I also like Winter Wonderland and Let it Snow. If our friends invite us over for egg nog, we are happy to take part.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-5399318065107534189?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/5399318065107534189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/11/hanukkah-survey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/5399318065107534189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/5399318065107534189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/11/hanukkah-survey.html' title='A Hanukkah Survey'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_a_U-aQI9zU0/SwxZ37taHvI/AAAAAAAAABQ/7cy01E3Px5Y/s72-c/Hanukkah.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-7752843009752771724</id><published>2009-11-18T22:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T22:20:23.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Holiday Moment I'll Never Forget</title><content type='html'>It isn't even officially the holiday season, yet decorations are everywhere and the Salvation Army has taken its post outside of the doors of the mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, I took my children to the mall and we walked over to the cosmetic counter. A very nice young woman helped me with my selections and while she was trying it on me - she spoke to my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, are you excited for Christmas?" she asked. I waited. Each year the kids have stayed silent not knowing what to say or how to react. They've been embarassed and have looked at me for assistance. This year - I just waited to see what happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My son answered, "We are Hanukkah not Christmas."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not missing a beat the woman started to talk to both of them about how lucky they were that Hanukkah comes early this year and that they get 12 days of presents while she only gets one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter politely informs her that they only get 8 days of presents and affirms that they are indeed excited about it with a big grin on her face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here comes the best part. I was already proud of the fact that my kids said it out loud and with pride - "We celebrate Hanukkah." But then something else happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went to pay for my purchases, the saleswoman turned to them and wished them a Happy Hanukkah. My daughter turned around and wished her a Merry Christmas. And I just absorbed the moment where each person respected each other's holiday, recognized their differences and wished them a meaningful holiday greeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that there is a lot of talk about how "Happy Holidays" is too generic and impersonal to say or how salespeople shouldn't assume that everyone celebrates Christmas. This argument never really mattered to me until I witnessed this great moment when people of different faiths and traditions came together in mutual respect, much excitement, and pure joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could not have been more proud of our family. It is truly a holiday moment I will not forget.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-7752843009752771724?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7752843009752771724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/11/holiday-moment-ill-never-forget.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/7752843009752771724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/7752843009752771724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/11/holiday-moment-ill-never-forget.html' title='A Holiday Moment I&apos;ll Never Forget'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-668944961215251787</id><published>2009-08-17T22:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T22:02:35.654-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jewish Holidays'/><title type='text'>Jewish Cooking for the Clueless</title><content type='html'>IT'S HERE! My new cookbook - Jewish Cooking Boot Camp - came in the mail last week. I know that this cookbook was made for me - especially when there is an article on page 7 titled "Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Kitchen Injuries."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'd like to add a new segment to the cookbook from the Clueless Cook (a.k.a. yours truly). I call it - Reasons to read the recipe BEFORE you start to cook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason #1 - By reading the entire list of ingredients, you can make sure that you have each item in your kitchen. If you don't follow this philosophy, you will likely annoy your spouse when you send him or her out to the store to retrieve the missing (and usually hard to find) ingredient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason #2 - Read the recipe again to make sure that you have all of the kitchen equipment you need. This would have come in handy before I was in the middle of making cupcakes with the kids from scratch without a sifter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reason #3&lt;br /&gt;Read the amount that you need of each ingredient prior to putting it in the bowl. Otherwise, you may wind up quadrupling the one ingredient that you didn't read while using the exact measurements of the ingredients that you did read. Yes, I admit that I did this. I overloaded on the tomato sauce and put in the exact ingredients while making a mango sauce for my tilapia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more cooking tip for clueless cooks out there (are there any out there besides me?), buy 2 of everything so that when you mess it up - you have everything you need to start all over again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, the brisket I plan to make for the High Holidays should make for a very interesting story. Wish me luck and stay tuned!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-668944961215251787?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/668944961215251787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/08/jewish-cooking-for-clueless.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/668944961215251787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/668944961215251787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/08/jewish-cooking-for-clueless.html' title='Jewish Cooking for the Clueless'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-7453714684885602071</id><published>2009-08-12T16:06:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T16:26:50.033-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Lists</title><content type='html'>I'm back! Does September feel like a big freight train coming down the tracks and there is nothing we can do to stop it? The last time I blogged was in January (sorry about that). In January, I was dreaming about many things that I was looking forward to over the summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Family vacation to DisneyWorld (check)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Billy Joel/Elton John Concert (check)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Producers at the Walnut (check)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Phillies games (check - 2 down &amp;amp; 1 to go)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Neighborhood BBQs (check)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I still have a few things left on my summer to do list, but my fall list is getting longer by the minute. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Back to School shopping&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Back to School nights&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Soccer practice&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Soccer games&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sunday School&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Hebrew School (new for us this year)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;High Holidays&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;High School Reunion (20th in November)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's time to pull the train into the station and get some perspective on this. So, I took out one of my favorite books: Don't Sweat the Small Stuff (and It's All Small Stuff). And I made a new list to deal with some of my stress&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Be aware of the snowball effect - meaning if I wake up in the middle of the night thinking of one thing and it turns into 5 more things - get a grip and go back to sleep.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Live in the Present Moment - practice living in the here and now and less on worrying about the past and future&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Allow Myself to be Bored - WHAT! This one is the hardest for me. But the book says that if I allow myself to be bored - even for a short time - boredom will be replaced with peaceful feelings. Okay - I'll give it a shot! :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cut Myself Some Slack - Okay, sounds good. I know I'm not perfect and not everything on my to do list will get done. The important things will be addressed and the rest can wait for another day.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;If you have this book hidden away in a closet and you haven't picked it up in a while. Maybe it is a good time to do so - before you see the freight train coming your way. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-7453714684885602071?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/7453714684885602071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-lists.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/7453714684885602071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/7453714684885602071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-lists.html' title='My Lists'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-2228886386665688477</id><published>2009-02-02T14:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T14:37:50.554-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Piles of Pictures</title><content type='html'>I've been cleaning out my closets lately and recently I came across a big plastic bin of old pictures. In the past, I would take out this box and put it right back without opening it or doing anything to organize the photos. About a month ago, I decided not to put the box back and instead organize the photos and buy photo albums to put them in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not realize what a large task this was. At first, I was very motivated and spent many nights pouring over the pictures, organizing them in piles (one pile for my daughter, one pile or my son, one pile for our trip to Disney, etc). After a while, it got a little tiresome so the pictures sat on my dining room table for another week before I touched them again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I realized that I needed my dining room back in order. So, over the weekend, I plowed through the rest of the pictures. No wonder it takes so long. The thoughts that go through your head while taking on this project are so random:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This picture will be great for the bat mitzvah montage - in five years"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look how skinny I am in this picture - someday I'll be that skinny again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who is that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why did I make doubles?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am happy to say that 90% of the original pile of photos is now organized in photo albums. But, when I went looking for a place to put the albums - guess what I found - MORE PICTURES!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oy Vey - will this project ever end?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-2228886386665688477?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2228886386665688477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/02/piles-of-pictures.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2228886386665688477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2228886386665688477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/02/piles-of-pictures.html' title='Piles of Pictures'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-2083768752493486900</id><published>2009-01-30T14:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T17:07:36.574-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Top 10 Random Jewish Things About Me</title><content type='html'>Facebook's new trend is to come up with 25 Random Things About Me and send it off to our friends. Here is my version of 10 Random Jewish Things About Me - feel free to post your own top 10 (or 5 or 3 - no pressure here).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) I went to Israel in 1991 and climbed Masada, planted a tree, walked the streets of Jerusalem, had a crush on an Israeli soldier, rode a camel, slept in the desert with the Bedouins, and had a bat mitzvah ceremony at the Western Wall - A fantastic experience&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I was BBYO member of the year and president of my BBYO chapter - Re'ut BBYO&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) My parents made my sister and I keep Passover in Disneyworld when I was 9 years old. Not easy to do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) I did nothing Jewish in college, except to go home over the high holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) I marched for Soviet Jewry in Washington D.C.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) I love that my kids love coming to synagogue, preschool, Sunday school, youth group events, and singing in the choir. I'm hoping that it lasts a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) I enjoy listening to modern Jewish music in the car when I'm by myself - Rick Recht, Sheldon Low, Josh Nelson, etc. The music is uplifting and toe tapping and makes me feel good. Jewish music is no longer limited to "Sunrise, Sunset" and old Barry Manilow albums any more (although I am a closet Fanilow!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) I love my job as Program Director of my synagogue more than any other job I've ever held. It is fulfilling, enjoyable and every day I feel like I make a difference - even if it is a small difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) As a kid, I belonged to a Conservative synagogue with 100 families, 1 rabbi, no cantor and 3 classrooms - we referred to it as B'nai Wawa because that was how big it was. B'nai Tikvah is still there and thriving today. Now, I work for a Reform synagogue with over 1000 families, 2 rabbis, in a huge building and I feel just as connected to this synagogue as I did to the one that I grew up in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) I was teased as a kid for being Jewish. People threw pennies and called me names and I sometimes felt that I didn't fit in. But, instead of turning away from it, my parents helped me to embrace our differences and it has made me a huge part of who I am today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you will post something Jewish about yourself that changed your life. I look forward to reading your posts!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-2083768752493486900?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/2083768752493486900/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/01/top-10-random-jewish-things-about-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2083768752493486900'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/2083768752493486900'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/01/top-10-random-jewish-things-about-me.html' title='Top 10 Random Jewish Things About Me'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-1850929567824393386</id><published>2009-01-04T12:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T12:32:57.564-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Year, New Me</title><content type='html'>I have so many resolutions and I don't know which ones to concentrate on the most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My two biggies are to get organized and lose weight. I have a plan for the weight loss - I'm gong to start back to Weight Watchers which meets at Beth Or on Tuesdays at 12 noon. How can I not go - it is right in my building during lunch hour. I have no excuse. I also plan to hit the gym as much as possible. This is a little difficult because the only times I can go are late afternoon or late evening. I'm hoping to find a gym buddy with the same crazy schedule as me - so that we can motivate each other to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting organized is a whole different thing. I am a big fan of Real Simple magazine, the Container Store, &amp;amp; I possess many "get organized" types of books. My problem is that I have too many systems -because I love to put them in place - and don't know which works best for me.  I also don't know which room to begin with - do I start from the bedrooms down to the playroom or start at the bottom and work my way up. Do I start by room or by project? Last night I had a choice between cleaning out the fridge and putting the photos away that have been sitting on my dining room table for a month. I chose the fridge because we need to go food shopping. It looks great! Now what to tackle next?! Too many things to choose from...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-1850929567824393386?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/1850929567824393386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-new-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/1850929567824393386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/1850929567824393386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-year-new-me.html' title='New Year, New Me'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-374078106488933144</id><published>2008-12-31T12:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2010-10-25T22:03:05.268-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jewish Holidays'/><title type='text'>Goodbye to the latkes!</title><content type='html'>To take a lyric from my son's Hanukkah song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I had a little latke, I made it out of clay"&lt;br /&gt;"And when I tried to eat it, my tummy says Oy Vey!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How many latkes have I had? - Let me count the parties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Expensive Latkes &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Location: Andrew's Preschool Hanukkah Party&lt;/strong&gt; - I made latkes for the class and it cost me $350 the next day which I had to pay the plumber after I put the potato scraps down the garbage disposal. Next time, I'll buy the mix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Healthy Latkes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Location: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hanukkah Brunch with my in-laws&lt;/strong&gt; - Delicious, Weight Watcher recipe latkes - but still ate too many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lotsa Latkes&lt;br /&gt;Location: Hanukkah Party with my Chavurah&lt;/strong&gt; - Latkes everywhere - and latke-leftovers galore! Great party with great friends. Each family lit a menorah and we all did the blessings together. Definitely a holiday highlight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Latke Overload&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Location: Hanukkah Dinner with my parents&lt;/strong&gt; - I asked my mom what we were having - guess what - more latkes! Apparently, my dad didn't get to eat any during the 8 days of Hanukkah. Oh well, what's one or two more latkes, right?! Who says I'm not a trooper...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll take potatoes off the shopping list for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year to all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-374078106488933144?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/374078106488933144/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2008/12/goodbye-to-latkes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/374078106488933144'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/374078106488933144'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2008/12/goodbye-to-latkes.html' title='Goodbye to the latkes!'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5313392600579494457.post-6367546848023539438</id><published>2008-12-26T15:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-26T17:15:15.981-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Supermarket Sweep for Stamps</title><content type='html'>I think I created this blog so that I could share funny stories like this one. I know I told a few people this story before, but it is worth repeating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few weeks ago, I was checking out at the supermarket when I saw a sign that said "stamps sold here." Thrilled at my good fortune that I would not have to schlep the kids to the post office in the cold weather, I asked for 2 books. I paid for the stamps and the cashier pulls out 2 books - one had the a lovely picture of Baby Jesus &amp;amp; the Virgin Mary &amp;amp; the other had Christmas trees and Santa Clauses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you have any other kind of stamps?" I asked the cashier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, why?" she says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I can't put Christmas stamps on my Hanukkah cards," I said in sort of a whisper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked at me a little strangely and said that she had no other stamps. When I asked for my money back, she calls over to the store manager. Meanwhile, the line is getting longer behind me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The manager says, "you can't use these stamps?" I explained again, why I can't use the stamps and asked for my money back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The manager proceeds to check 20 aisles worth of cash registers to find stamps that are not of the Christmas variety. Finding none, he comes back to me - "are you sure you can't use them?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(I think the woman behind me was ready to explain it to him at this point).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After explaining for a 3rd time that I was Jewish and couldn't use his Christmas stamps, he reluctantly gave me my money back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't like I was looking for stamps with menorahs or Jewish stars. An American Flag or Liberty Bell stamp would have been fine!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a little mortified, but in the long run - it makes a great story and you truly can't make this stuff up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5313392600579494457-6367546848023539438?l=kvellcorner.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/feeds/6367546848023539438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2008/12/supermarket-sweep-for-stamps.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/6367546848023539438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5313392600579494457/posts/default/6367546848023539438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kvellcorner.blogspot.com/2008/12/supermarket-sweep-for-stamps.html' title='Supermarket Sweep for Stamps'/><author><name>Elisa Heisman</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06418611033054094044</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zLSlvbA05Ms/TWO9RDVT0OI/AAAAAAAAAEY/oNu8bTwQnW4/s220/elisa%2Bhaha.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
