Check out the Shabbatness blog every Sunday night for your weekly fix on life, love, and the lessons and laughs we can take away from it all. Get advice and anecdotes on dating and matchmaking, reviews on hot date spots in NYC, and Q & A from the Shabbatness community on tackling texting, Tinder, breaking up, making up, and everything in between.
On Sunday evening, March 1, 2020, my beloved grandmother Rose Mibab Goldberg passed away. She was my hero, my best friend, the inspiration for Shabbatness, and so much more. I was given the honor of speaking at her funeral on March 3rd, and below is an excerpt. With her passing at the remarkable age of 96, she took a piece of my heart with her. May her memory be a blessing. Growing up in Georgia, I was jealous that my friends had All-American grandmothers who would cheer them on at soccer games, go out for fast food, or take them shopping at the mall. Shopping with my Nana Rose was more like taking one of her crumpled 2-year-old store credits to TJ Maxx or Talbots and being told to find something warm to wear, even if it was the middle of the summer in Florida. Eating with my grandma consisted of […]
I’ve been through some sh*t recently. And that sh*t hit the fan in more ways than one. I love my parents, but I don’t love that Orlando is their home airport. My flights between NYC and MCO are filled with a combination of angry New Yorkers, cranky kids, and Disney stuffed animals. My return flight to NYC after spending Thanksgiving with my family was one of the most traumatic travel experiences of my life. Feeny, my sweet, wonderfully trained 13-year-old rescue, has flown multiple times with ease. Toward the end of this particular post-holiday flight, he started panting and shaking. Upon the descent, he became very overheated, and his shakes turned into full-blown convulsions. Something was wrong. And that something ended up being… explosive, nonstop diarrhea. It didn’t end upon landing, and I was forced to exit the plane first, leaving a trail of turd in my wake. Forced to […]
Fifteen years ago, I received the greatest love advice I would ever learn. My Nana reminded me of this simple four-word phrase again this past summer, as I would personally come to understand the wisdom behind the wording: Love is not enough. Hearing these words is one thing. Experiencing them is another thing entirely. When I was younger, I never understood how or why two people could love each other yet decide to no longer be together. Didn’t people break up because they were both no longer in love with each other? I’ve learned as I’ve gotten older that break-ups are often far from black-and-white and rarely occur because of one easily definable thing. The day a future no longer seems possible with someone, it’ll end. Most often, it happens subconsciously and gradually. Woody Allen as Alvy Singer captures it perfectly in the movie Annie Hall: “A relationship, I think, […]
Acrophobia. Claustrophobia. Arachnophobia. From a fear of heights to a fear of spiders, there’s a name for almost every phobia these days. I couldn’t find a word for my irrational fear, however. It only strikes me in certain places, at certain times, and involves a very specific object. Like, I definitely can’t have a relaxing picnic in Central Park or lay peacefully on a towel on a crowded beach. That’s right: I won’t set foot in Sheep’s Meadow on a busy summer afternoon because I’m freakin’ terrified of… FRISBEES. And I have reason to be. A few years ago, on a beautiful summer day, my then-boyfriend of six months and I went to Central Park with a group of friends. I plopped down on a blanket with my dog and my latest NYPL book while my BF began teaching a friend of his the proper way to throw a frisbee. Standing […]