tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-207881632024-03-14T01:15:28.610-04:00LIVE FROM THE HILLTOPMimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.comBlogger148125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-56928637481268213492010-02-14T16:53:00.004-05:002010-02-14T16:59:15.100-05:00LadyMamaCheck out my new blog and project: LADYMAMAMimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-72710851417626539382009-02-18T10:47:00.005-05:002009-02-18T10:57:47.732-05:00Back on the Hilltop (or trying)I wanna write but I can't, so I'm hiding in the abstractTossing and turning, tryin' to get back on trackBig plans I have, but its all dying in my headLazy and uncaring, everything has turned to leadI know what is my toil, signs are everywhereBut when I approach, there arises this fearEventually, from the depths I know I must callFor a little help from the creator of it allI used to write, and Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-8124444068126620622008-09-21T02:28:00.002-04:002008-09-21T02:37:00.473-04:00Supposed to be sleepingI am supposed to be sleepingBut I am awake talking to G-d1am and these words of returnHaven't been said in a yearFunny thingI haven't returned in a yearSlichos in a brick shulPacked with fashionable overtired girlsSmells like teen spiritI remember last yearMy first time, the pre-New Year customs in the HeightsSurroundings uninspiring, but a heart so alive it didn't need itA year later nowAnd Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-90490445312147001292008-08-08T14:33:00.004-04:002008-08-08T14:50:21.039-04:00EngagedIt is with my 145th Live From the Hilltop post that I present the excuse for my disappearance over the past month.Indeed, love has bitten.Most of you have already heard the grand news that, through Hashem's completely overwhelming abundance of marvelous and almost-unfathomable blessings, I am engaged to Moshe Hecht (from Queens).Our holy union will only result (and already has) in more Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-30004539218567409622008-07-15T17:45:00.002-04:002008-07-15T17:56:57.755-04:00Love Bites in Crown Heights(Written June 14th, and debated whether to post...until just now)Roaming Carroll, President and UnionSearching for my mate, for some soul reunionFeeling idealistic, young and naiveYet to be burdened, still charged to believeSuddenly a wall, these stumbling blocksCrash from some words, these calls and these knocksYou tell me its not simple, and force me to defineWrap me up in plastic, no you can'tMimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-82850843491708310932008-06-20T16:09:00.006-04:002008-06-20T16:30:48.981-04:00Never blurryYou were always so precise and direct. So focused.So crystal clear.You were present. So in the moment. So in the future.So crystal clear.You were a light. So positive, so bright.So crystal clear.You were action. So quick and on unafraid.So crystal clear.You were truth. So unrelenting and unbending.So crystal clear.You were alive. So energetic and passionate.So crystal clear.And today, we see a Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-50830600297012087412008-06-18T00:03:00.002-04:002008-06-18T00:11:52.955-04:00A box with wingsWe were talking about defining ourselves, about marriage, about finding that one person out there who could possible be for us.He sensed my questions, my desire to redefine."But, Mimi, you know who you are," he said. "There's no question."He encouraged me not to get sidetracked by other people imposing their definitions, or lack thereof."But I'm just not in the box, I can't take it," I complainedMimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-20488233840996281022008-06-15T04:04:00.002-04:002008-06-15T04:05:45.882-04:00Gimme ColorIt's 4 am.I am up, but the silence is threatening my alert mind.Too much time to think. But never enough.Sometimes my thoughts have themes.The past few days (maybe weeks and months), it's been the same tune.And with these words, the song opens:Black and white are for pages that don't turn.That's right. Black and white is easy to read.But it lacks a story.Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-35493509939483001022008-06-13T15:07:00.006-04:002008-06-13T19:49:27.476-04:00My Cheesecake LessonIt was one of my greatest disappointments.Well, as far as cheesecakes go.My apartment was hosting a meal for the last day of Shavuos. I was thrilled. We sent the invitation out to about ten girls and everyone was signing up with something to bring. The list of salads, blintzes, quiches, fish and pasta grew daily.Whenever my apartment hosts meals, I never really get to make anything (except for Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-15521747745380553972008-06-12T19:21:00.002-04:002008-06-12T19:22:55.326-04:00Illusion (by Moshe)Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-60778203627392259932008-06-06T11:24:00.005-04:002008-06-06T11:42:06.987-04:00Let's get real, Mimi (Shavuos 5758)(See me?)To say that my soul was present at the giving of the Torah is a preposterous claim. It’s a really nice-sounding idea, certainly poetic.But let’s get real. Doesn’t it just sound like something said to soothe a nation that feels distant from the most pivotal and defining moment of our nation?It’s like saying, “Oh, don’t worry, you were there, too.”I guess I just don’t see the relevance. Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-49377650958463356522008-05-28T12:22:00.007-04:002008-06-06T11:42:18.998-04:00Get it straight, SharonSharon Mill is a dark curly haired Jew who works in South Center Mall.Mushky Notik is a dark curly haired Jew who shops at South Center Mall.It is in the busied kiosk-laden, people packed center of this mall where they collided.He saw her from afar and made his ever so smooth approach."Yew hov natrally cerlee hair, yes?"He drew closer with speed, armed with a straightener and trained sales Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-24273598720859591742008-05-21T09:07:00.005-04:002008-05-21T09:15:29.536-04:00Speech on repeat(I found the speech after it was mentioned in the news, following the announcement of Ted Kennedy's brain tumor diagnosis. I keep on listening to it...figured "Why not?" post it...)"Some men see things as they are and say, 'Why?'I dream things that never were and say, 'Why not?'"(Edward Kennedy, quoting Robert Kennedy)Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-701981929906935252008-05-15T18:49:00.003-04:002008-05-15T19:00:57.036-04:00Israel, stand upI want to be with you. In your time of need, in your time of unrest. In no time at all.I miss your smell. Stone and sand and spices and a slight burning.I miss your sound. Engaging chatter and violins and a vibrant language.I miss your people. Sometimes divided but forever alive.I miss your style. Joyful and resolute and oh so honest.But most of all, I miss your friendship.I miss our Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-19886866382371164052008-05-07T11:28:00.004-04:002008-05-08T13:20:09.019-04:00When the Rebbe CriesI had a skip in my step as I made my way into the Jewish Children’s Museum. After a beautiful walk and an inspiring class, today was going to be good. It was around 9 a.m. as I made my way towards the elevator in the Museum’s silent entrance hall. I pressed the up button and the elevator door flung open.I had one foot in the door way when I heard a sound and stopped.To my right, the video screen Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-26628923608010188252008-05-02T17:11:00.003-04:002008-05-05T17:43:26.345-04:00Twenty TwoTwo days ago, on my birthday, I woke up at 5:45 to go walking down Eastern Parkway.After a nurturing Pesach, resolutions are aplenty and the strength is coming from above.This morning, after walking, I went to a shiur. That inspiration, too, came from above. And then, in that very class, the maamer we learned spoke about arousals pouring down from on high, and how the excitement doesn’t manifest Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-79362621402480520342008-04-18T01:03:00.002-04:002008-04-18T01:06:41.531-04:00Soul Scrubbing[Published here two years ago ]My right arm is officially a hundred times stronger than my left, still burning and smelling of bleach.The home where I am living and studying this year, Machon Alte, had a day of cleaning yesterday, in honor of the approaching holiday of Passover. Every student was given a job around the "campus."My job? To scrub. To scrub the floor. To scrub all thirty Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-63367098687237225952008-04-16T02:35:00.003-04:002008-04-16T02:55:15.420-04:00Rebbe, just knowTonight, I went to a farbrengen. While it was in your honor, I didn't feel you there. The teacher spoke animatedly. He spoke about memories. He spoke about what you stand for.He spoke about your "soft but like a laser" eyes. He talked and talked and talked, but didn't say a lot.Every word sounded like a robotic heard-before line, much in need of some fresh heart and soul to flow beneath.I Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-46162976152585063952008-04-11T12:19:00.003-04:002008-04-11T14:36:26.564-04:00Poem from G-dMy Miriam, my MiriamThis time, I write to youWhile I may use your handsThese words you know are trueIt took a while for you to find meYou counted to ten and didn't slowYou looked here and there, high and lowI watched you run, I watched you goYou looked in the trees, just ate the pearYou looked in the sky, just breathed the airYou looked in the dust, just played with the rocksYou searched the Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-30248593675697172952008-04-09T03:15:00.003-04:002008-04-09T03:26:00.081-04:00The lyrics to the tune in my headBe a light, she says, and more than a lamp. Be flooding waters, and never just damp. Make a map of your heart, and draw it on their face. Race to the finish line, race at your pace. Lace all the colors in a sea of roaring waves. Run out of your caves, and run towards the sun. Run and run, for you'll never be done. Don't come undone. Stand tall. Taller than you are. Look far, raise the bar, but Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-78383194217914778412008-04-07T02:26:00.003-04:002008-04-07T02:40:26.480-04:00BeautifulAt a Chuppah today, I learned about beauty.The wind was blowing, but the canopy representing their future home stood still. The Chosson stood swaying with his eyes scrunched, beside the woman he would soon call his wife.Chuppahs always makes me choke up. The niggun. The focus. The joy. The intensity. I closed my eyes to offer a personal prayer during the auspicious time that is every wedding Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-82654852932993009032008-04-02T13:52:00.002-04:002008-04-02T13:57:47.530-04:00CertainlyIt's like everything has led up to this moment.All the questions. All the changing. All the sighing and wondering how its going to come together.All the distress in not living up to my potential.All the knowing that I am more.I come to work. Straight to the elevator.But he is on the video in the entrance lobby.I hear his voice. Addressing the world. Strong, clear and direct.He has been talking Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-20465502008808830522008-03-12T23:38:00.004-04:002008-03-13T00:36:54.316-04:00Myth # 9: Chabad accepts all kinds of JewsIf there’s one thing that Lubavitchers love highlighting, it’s our openness to Jews of all walks of life, Jews of every observance, style, color, political bend and affiliation.With pride, we will proclaim, “We love all kinds of Jews!”Oftentimes, this is how we win the hearts of the people who comprise our Chabad Houses. With our “Chabad is into all types of Jews!” proclamation, people feel they Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-68791978951684127212008-03-12T21:55:00.002-04:002008-03-12T22:18:09.781-04:00Where ya been?Let's get to the bottom of this. I want G-d. Don't wanna just keep running and running and - what? Why you walking so slow? Want to go to Jerusalem, but they say my life here is a go. Where? I'm looking, but not finding. Love your fellow Jew, love your fellow Jew. Do this and don't do that. And you're not tall enough. Smack. Wake up - Israel is being divided. But, hey, sit pretty. Keep doing whatMimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-20788163.post-75787607551719481022008-01-29T23:47:00.000-05:002008-01-29T23:51:24.462-05:00Dr. Newmark and the Rebbetzin: A Private FarbrengenThis past Thursday, as my non-Lubavitch doctor prepared the syringe he would soon stick into my toe, he asked me, "So what are you doing for Chof Beis Shvat?"Apparently, my plans were to be walking around in Crocs recovering from the surgery to remove an ingrown toenail.For Dr. Newmark, this would be the one time a year that he went to the Ohel.The Rebbetzin, he says, was like a mother to him.I Mimihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18106085670679459091noreply@blogger.com10