House of Faith, Act 3 - The Conclusion of the Trial

 

I want to state (as a disclaimer to any lookers on) that, though I call my boyfriend "The Crazy Israeli," it is a nickname only in the sense of good humor and of protecting his anonymity. There are readers who will know his name, but in giving him a nickname on this public forum, I am protecting his right to privacy. It also needs to be stated that there is nothing derogatory about the name to me and I would hope my readers would understand my brand of humor with regards to this nickname. I would be a hypocrite to call him crazy when I'm as much of a nutter as I am. Rather, "The Crazy Israeli" refers both to our relationship being so ridiculous and illogical that it's crazy, as well as to impart the sense that we are divinely "meant to be" because you'd have to be a little bit nutty to want to put up with me for any length of time. But in the fairness of disclaimers, Boyfriend is Israeli in his blood and a Midwesterner by life experience the same way that I am Southern in my blood but a Pacific Northwesterner by life experience. We are products of our heritage without being completely OF that culture.

And he's no more crazy than I am.

It seems as though, in order to properly write this post, I am going to have to cover the last six months of my life, including addressing how things ultimately broke down between me and The Crazy Israeli only to get completely rebuilt.

On the morning of March 23, 2010, Rabbi Bryan Bramly was arrested at gunpoint in the Temple Beth Sholom parking lot, accused of sexually assaulting a now-17 year old girl over 10 years ago at a slumber party. Having studied predators in college with serious focus (as I was sexually assaulted as a child), I immediately drew the only logical conclusion - that he was innocent. The accusation stood that, in essence, Rabbi Bramly had snuck into where ever this girl was sleeping and just outright sexually assaulted her with his daughter sleeping nearby. And yet, I couldn't help but looking at what we know to be true of sexual predators: that they usually start with their own children (it's seen as "safer"), they go on to "groom" other children into submission for a full act (usually starting with kind words and "sit on my lap" and progressing to molestation before they rape), and they cannot ever just stop at ONE child. Knowing he had never assaulted his own children, that the accusation said he just snuck in and raped her, and that there was just this ONE girl claiming this, even AFTER headlines ran across the nation with this wild accusation, I was dumbfounded as to how anyone could even THINK this was more than a troubled young girl desperately seeking attention.

Over the course of the next 6 months, we had a town hall meeting with Rabbi Bramly's legal defense team, informing us that, "The Grand Jury would indict a ham sandwich if they could." Many of us had informal conversations with Rabbi Bramly where we continued our individual Rabbi-Congregation relationships with the man who was seen as OUR Rabbi. A number of us made our last appearance at Temple Beth Sholom for an especially auspicious Bar Mitzvah. We were there because Rabbi Bramly was there in support of the Bar Mitzvah child and we wanted to stand in solidarity with our Rabbi to show the board just how much we adored our Rabbi. We would field bitter email after bitter email from Temple Beth Sholom's board of directors first stating absolutely nothing, then outright lying to us, and finally capping it off by informing us on August 8th that they had asked for Rabbi Bramly's resignation stating, "This was a very difficult decision and takes into account all of your input, a detailed review of the impact of all circumstances related to the arrest, indictment and pending trial as well as specific performance prior to Rabbi Bramly's arrest on 23 March 2010. It became clear to us that he has lost the confidence of the board of directors and a percentage of the congregation" in the weeks FOLLOWING his arrest. This was later amended on August 18th, after Rabbi Bramly's lawyers sent a letter stating he would not be resigning, to say, "The decision was not based on an allegation, but rather on events and behaviors both before and after Rabbi Bramly’s arrest."

Anyone but me smell a rat?

By this point, I am positive that the board has completely lost the confidence of the congregation, as evidenced by the WAVE of Temple Beth Sholom congregants who maintain financial membership at TBS-EV SOLELY to support Rabbi Bramly but attend services at Chabad Chandler, Temple Chai, and various other synagogues in the valley. I have had the unusual pleasure of making the acquaintance of a number of these congregants, as I formally rescinded my Temple Beth Sholom membership the day they asked for Rabbi Bramly's resignation and started attending services at Chabad Chandler shortly after his arrest. It's always a pleasure for me to make a new friend, especially a new JEWISH friend, but it's especially powerful to be united with a new friend from the first conversation because we BOTH abandoned Temple Beth Sholom due to the way the board of directors has handled this situation. The problem is that, without a bug in our ear, we have no idea how to impeach the current synagogue president and the rest of the Temple Beth Sholom board of directors without waiting for the next general election.

Having attended Temple Beth Sholom for the auspicious Bar Mitzvah, my last act as a "member in good standing," I am left with the very distinct feeling that the president of the congregation has a personal vendetta with Rabbi Bramly. His cold and hostile reception of our beloved Rabbi that morning was noticed across the board and I think if we could have given a "tsk tsk" to him, we would have. I, for one, was completely in shock that someone could be so hostile to a rabbi he supposedly supported unconditionally. Obviously now I see the coup d'etat going on at Temple Beth Sholom at that time... the usurpation of the charismatic and quite strong-willed Rabbi Bramly and ultimate replacement with a more subservient Rabbi who would bow down to the board. Rabbi Bramly showing up was unexpected and it lends itself to the assumption of power. The President and the board want power; Rabbi Bramly HAS power. This isn't to say one should or shouldn't have power when it comes to congregants. I think this speaks to the compassionate way Rabbi Bramly has approached his congregation and the exclusive way the board of directors has approached the community. One welcomed anyone with open arms. The other reiterated the feeling that there was a clique in place and you were once again the social outcast. But at the time, I still firmly believed the board wanted what we ALL wanted, which was to have Rabbi Bramly once again take the pulpit and guide our tiny congregation.

I had been wrestling with my inner voices about renewing my membership at Temple Beth Sholom for quite some time by the time I got the August 18th email. Rabbi Bramly urged me to renew, stating that if he lost me as a member, he'd lose one more voice advocating for his return. I still wrestled with it. My ultimate decision to rescind my membership was accompanied by a very strongly worded letter that I sent ONLY to the Synagogue President because it basically outlined how this community has FAILED to be a community and is little better than a high school competition for who is the most popular.

In my letter to the membership committee, I detailed how, in the weeks following Rabbi Bramly's arrest, the synagogue community, which had sworn up and down that they would stand by me through anything and that I would always be welcome, suddenly all had more important things to do than to be a friend to me. At the town hall meeting with Rabbi Bramly's lawyers, before anyone asked about how I was doing, I was reminded that I owed dues. Nobody hugged me and nobody expressed concern when I remarked that I had been seriously ill in recent weeks. I had written House of Faith as an impassioned plea to the numerous fellow congregants who added me as a Facebook friend and got ZERO responses. Nothing in the WORLD prepared me for what happened after that blog was posted. I expected that I would attend shul and my fellow congregants would tell me I could lean on them. I expected a "warm, chamish community" like the Past President had outlined in her initial email to the congregation. What I found was a bunch of turned backs. A line was drawn in the sand and - it seemed to me at the time - that on one side was the majority of the congregation... and on the other side was me, Laura, and Rabbi Bramly. Standing by my rabbi was costing me every single relationship in the synagogue and it was beyond ridiculous. Most would expect that the pressure of the clique would have eventually worn me down and made me turn on my beloved rabbi just so I wouldn't be all alone and abandoned. They obviously have no idea who they're dealing with because the MINUTE I felt that clique like pressure to conform, I started mouthing off about what was ETHICAL in my mind (like standing behind a man who had always stood behind ME), as opposed to what was considered the popular opinion.

Then, as if straight out of a prayer, a lone voice rose up and said to me, "I heard the news. How are you holding up?" I'm not. My whole world has come crashing down. "Come to my house this Shabbos. We will eat and I will pray with you."

That lone voice came from an Orthodox friend of mine. I barely knew her at the time. We were Facebook friends and not much else. Yet, in the wake of the arrest, in the wake of my whole world tumbling down around me... she sought me out and offered me a hand to get through this most difficult period.

When I relay the stories that have clearly defined my life... the whispering voice that said the Shehecheyanu just behind my right ear the first time I stumbled my way through my first bracha after realizing Judaism was the right path for me... the Anthropology text falling off the chair and opening to the page of the Laetoli footprints when I was praying for advice on how to reconcile the science of my degree and the religion in my soul... flipping through a phone book and my finger landing on Temple Beth Sholom as I cried desperately for a new shul so I would have a reason to live once again... and even the Crazy Israeli who was thought up as a joke on a particularly bad night in 2007 and who magically fell out of the sky at me after a heart felt prayer to the heavens for a sign that it's time to move on... when I relay these stories to other people, I'm always told that there's a very clear divine presence in my life.

I will admit that many times in my life, I have doubted just how strongly Gd exists in my world.

But after the Crazy Israeli fell out of the sky... I can't doubt it any longer. Which is why I latched on to the hand provided to me by my Orthodox friends to guide me through the tunnel and my path back into the Jewish community came from a lone flashlight in the dark. As alone as I was, my prayers were answered the moment my friend sent that simple message.

Every single time I attempted to return to the Temple Beth Sholom community, I was shafted and ignored at every turn. I distinctly remember feeling like I was conversing inside the cone of silence while at the auspicious Bar Mitzvah. Inundated with people asking "How have you been" I almost wondered what would happen if I had given the honest answer. I wasn't holding up very well at ALL that day. It took every last ounce of my inner strength to wake up and put on a fake smile just so I didn't stand out. Had I answered with the honest truth... had I responded with "I've been suicidal" in my most nonchalant tone... would anyone have noticed? I honestly doubt it.

As opposed to the two times I put on a fake smile for my Orthodox friends and was immediately met with, "Now you're just bullshitting me. How are you REALLY doing?"

The letter further lashed out at the piss poor way that the board of directors has handled this whole Rabbi Bramly crisis, ranging from their refusal to allow Rabbi Bramly to hold his town hall in our synagogue to their demand that he resign without giving adequate cause. In tearing apart the synagogue congregant by congregant, I didn't hesitate to commit the most heinous foul a Southerner could ever do: I named names. I took everyone to task when finally snapping and lashing out at the horrendous way I had been treated. Yes, part of my resignation had to do with the shitty way they have treated my rabbi. But that was really just the straw that broke the camel's back. I took the synagogue to task for the shitty way they treated ME in the wake of the Rabbi Bramly scandal. Almost no one was left unscathed by my email. I will save everyone the trouble and state that I will not be naming these people on the blog. But my letter had to serve its own purpose and that was to tell the current Synagogue President quite frankly that HE is the one who has lost my confidence - not Rabbi Bramly. I don't even know the purpose of a Synagogue President, other than to say "I'm the most popular person here."

I wanted it to be CRYSTAL clear that I was leaving because of the way the inner circle has treated me as a lowly congregant. For my $40 per month, I expected to be included in a lot of things. I expected to be part of the exclusive club. I didn't expect to be given the run around on a number of occasions, outright shafted on others, and finally completely ignored. I didn't have a voice. The board made it crystal clear that none of us had voices when they asked for the rabbi's resignation. As much as I wanted to hang around in case they actually DID let Rabbi Bramly come back, I knew in the pit of my stomach that there was no home for me there.

Shortly before this letter was prompted, I had made the conscious decision to start getting more active within the local Jewish community. My Orthodox friends took me in like I was a relative and I was never made to feel like an outsider. Part of me has always stressed out around Orthodox people because I am a convert. The one time my conversion came up in conversation, there was just one question, "Was it halactic?" Yes, it was. Maybe it wasn't as "kosher" as the Rabbinate in Israel would like but after a LONG time in study, I went to a Beit Din with three kosher Jewish men, I said the articles of faith in front of this Beit Din where I promised to observe ALL the mitzvot, and I was properly supervised as I dunked in a kosher mikveh. Once I informed my Orthodox friends that, according to Jewish Law, I was a totally kosher convert, the issue was never again raised. It was never held against me that I was a convert. I was welcomed as if I had always BEEN Jewish. I'm even having membership at Chabad Chandler pushed upon me now that I have been going there on a semi-regular basis, which says to me that everyone totally accepts me as a Jew, even though I am a convert. Quite frankly, I would get more out of a $44 per month membership at Chabad Chandler than I ever got at Temple Beth Sholom. I know I am already a welcome friend at Chabad Chandler. If I try to disappear for too long, my friends at the synagogue get all uppity and start calling me to make sure I am ok.

I tried very hard to be accepted at Temple Beth Sholom. I came to worship Gd and for a small sense of community and instead, I found a community of back biters and gossips. I show up at the Orthodox shul, so beaten down by the latest in a long string of disappointments that liberal Judaism has heaped upon me, and I'm taken in as if I were a close relative. I joined a Chabad women's group and I get to sit among like minded women who all represent the spirit of inclusivity rather than the spirit of "We're old friends. You're new. I need to know all about you so I can hate you and exclude you and talk down to you." Nobody looks down on me because I don't know something. They don't treat me like a science project. People actually LISTEN when I tell them I'm not well. All along, I have only ever needed to feel INCLUDED. Even if it's just a few times a month, I need to feel like I belong to something. I have found that in the Orthodox community out here. I have genuine friends who genuinely care about me and treat me like a long lost sister. I have services that are intensely personal and intensely meaningful. Temple Beth Sholom has failed to provide that to me. They have had 2 years and some change to prove to me that I'm not a science project. They've never once treated me like kin. THAT is why I formally rescinded my membership. And damnit. Writing that letter felt GOOD. Nobody ever responded to it and I'm still on the synagogue's email list... so my assumption is that the President took the email and filed it under "Shit I don't wanna acknowledge." But FUCK did it feel GOOD to finally tear apart the people who have spent the last 2+ years treating me like a science project and scrutinizing my every move. Even if nothing else came of the letter, I felt a HELL of a lot better.

What surprised me most about the letter were the people I DIDN'T take to task about the whole thing. While MOST of the shul got named as offenders, there were more than a few names who were left out of my rampage. And despite all my shul bashing, there were a couple of people who were especially kind to me when I desperately needed to feel like I belonged. But the majority won out. The Clique weeded out the dissenters and I was no different.

As of the moment I write this blog, it occurs to me that Rabbi Bramly and I have not spoken in a couple of months, which is rare for us. It occurs to me that in formally rescinding my membership for the reasons detailed above, I may have lost the close relationship I once enjoyed with a man I will consider "My Rabbi" until the day I die. It saddens me a great deal that I can't have BOTH the feeling of community and inclusiveness that I have at Chabad AND the Rabbi I love so dearly. But if I had to pick a group of backbiters or a group of devoted friends and the ONLY positive thing about the backbiters was a man who is like a father to me... I'm going to have to choose the mass that enveloped me in their warmth and hospitality as opposed to the one man I have stood by even in his bleakest hour. I adore Rabbi Bramly... but Temple Beth Sholom is no home to me and it never will be. The clique can have their building and their submissive Rabbi. I'd rather have a place to call home where I feel like a long lost sister than show up in the snake's pit and try to act like I have anti-venom on hand. I've been through enough. I'm tired of masks, people pleasing, and climbing the social ladder. I want to be totally accepted as I come. I want people to NOTICE when I've been missing for a couple of weeks and to check up on me. I don't want people staring off into space as I sit there and tell them what's in the darkest pit of my heart. I have always said that I would rejoin Temple Beth Sholom in a heartbeat if he were once again allowed to take the pulpit. But if this is what I get in return... a whole lot of nothing... What's anyone going to notice if one little girl just never comes back.

I can say with absolute certainty that the only people who will notice are the Membership VP, who currently insists I owe an OBSCENE amount of money for a "building fee" in addition to the back dues I supposedly owe because the LAST Membership VP did not impart the financial agreement I entered into back in December of 2009 to the NEW Membership VP, which was evident when I got slapped with a bill for back dues (Please sir, can I have ANOTHER reason not to go back to Temple Beth Sholom). I will be noticed by my Rabbi (obviously). And I think there might be one or two people who were not named in my scathing letter to the board that might always wonder what happened to me. But all in all, I doubt I will be missed.

And like clockwork, just as I had started settling into my new life as Boyfriend's girlfriend and an active member of my Chandler Orthodox community, the skies clouded over and Boyfriend lost his fucking mind. There's a lot to be said of what happened, but in keeping with the promise I made to keep my personal life off of this blog as much as I can, I don't feel the need to reiterate what happened. Besides, when I do, most people stare at me like I have three heads when I conclude by telling them that we worked it out. There was a lot that was going unsaid in our relationship and we finally aired all of our dirty laundry to each other. After about a week of fighting like rabid cats and dogs, we finally met up for a one-on-one conversation and decided to get back together.

We then went camping for four days up near Lake something-or-other near Prescott. It was there that the NEXT great revelation happened.

The Boyfriend and I were laying in a hammock, talking about where we wanted to be in 10, 15, or 20 years. I kinda blurted out that I secretly wanted to be a midwife. I didn't give it much thought when I said it but Boyfriend told me I needed to put some heavy research into becoming a midwife before he'd consider it as a possible vocation for me. Throughout my researching process, I found myself really CONSIDERING what I had said, and I have come to the conclusion that being a midwife is my life's calling. Gd is calling me to catch babies. That's my mission. I can't explain it really. I just feel it in my BONES that Gd is calling me to be a medicine woman to the Jewish community and to spend the rest of my life catching their babies.

In conversations with my Orthodox friends and my mother and even with the Boyfriend, it became glaringly apparent that this is the path I'm supposed to be on. And it could WORK. I don't want to waste your time with details but let's just say that this isn't another of my many hair-brained schemes that comes back to haunt me. This is a plan that is totally feasible.

Once upon a time, Rabbi Bramly told me he had a pipe dream of starting an "intentional community" of like-minded Jews where we could get back to letting NATURE dictate when we started and ended Shabbat... where we'd return to the fruit of the earth and just BE. When I first heard of this idea, I ran home and informed Boyfriend that if this ever comes to fruition, we're selling all our worldly possessions and we're MOVING to Rabbi Bramly's Jewish Hippie Commune. Within the framework of this knowledge... or even the knowledge that Boyfriend and I have often talked (in jest, usually) about selling all of our worldly possessions and running off to an Israeli Kibbutz... suddenly it makes total sense that I would want to devote the rest of my life to catching babies and being the community medicine woman for my Orthodox friends. I have been informed that if I were able to perform pelvic exams and prescribe medications (all things that a Certified Nurse Midwife can do), I would have a built in clientele of Orthodox Jewish women would are desperate for a female who knows Jewish Law as well as I do, who has a hand in the medical world and a hand in the natural, homeopathic world to turn to with their girl problems and to help them bless this world with more Jewish babies.

My head is blowing off just thinking of this grand plan. Even if Rabbi Bramly never starts up his "Intentional Community" there's still a need within the Jewish community for a fellow Jewish woman who can handle both the religious and the medical aspects of being a woman in the Orthodox community. Of course I won't limit my practice to ONLY Jewish women... but very obviously I will be providing a very Jewish perspective on gynecological health and procreation... one that's not often seen in the Midwifery community as it currently stands. It's all so exciting. It's starting to come together.

Then... as if a ray of sun just HAD to come bursting through the clouds, I left a really good therapy session to find an email on my phone from Rabbi Bramly. It said the following:

Dear Friends, Family and Colleagues,

It is with great joy and hearts full of gratitude to God and to everyone who has stood with me and my family during the past six months, that Laura and I share the following wonderful news:

This morning in the New York County Supreme Court, Justice Rena Uviller, upon an application made by the District Attorney, dismissed all of the charges against me, bringing this six-month nightmare to an end.

In a letter addressed to the judge and my lawyers, the DA’s office clearly stated that their decision was not based on legal, technical or procedural grounds. Rather, that “after further investigation by our office… we have withdrawn all charges in this case.”

What JOYOUS news!! The New York DA finally pulled their heads out of their asses and realized that this was a LONG shot at best and Rabbi Bramly would come out victorious regardless. Obviously there's a lot to be said of the lawyers in this case and how having a good legal defense means a world of difference between innocent behind bars and charges being dropped. But the end result is the same - HE IS INNOCENT.

It pisses me off that the New York DA's office had to rake Rabbi Bramly's name through the coals, but once upon a time, he told me that something good would come about because of this experience. I cannot WAIT to see what happens.

What really got to me was piecing everything together. Me as the midwife, him as the Rabbi, Boyfriend as an apple picker or whatever the fuck he wants to be, kippah clad children under foot and an INTENTIONAL Jewish community where all are welcome and loved and accepted.

He's INNOCENT.

It all just blows my mind. I am so grateful to Hashem. This was TRULY the way we were meant to start the new year... me having found my calling, boyfriend and I having reconciled, and Rabbi Bramly being declared innocent.

*** UPDATE ***
Just as I was putting the finishing touches on this blog... I got an email from Temple Beth Sholom stating the following:

"The Board of Directors is especially pleased to learn that the charges against Rabbi Bramly have been dropped. We look forward to continuing discussions with Rabbi Bramly within the framework established by the USCJ. Our hearts and prayers continue to go out to all involved in these matters including Rabbi Bramly and his family."

I had to roll my eyes.

*** EDITED TO ADD ***
I found this statement from Rabbi Bramly on The East Valley Tribune and want it restated here:

"However, these baseless allegations against me have left us in financial peril, traumatized my family, has torn my congregation apart and led my synagogue's board to request my resignation."

"The Last Exorcism": A Movie Review

Well, now that me and the Israeli are on a break, I decided that it was time to indulge myself a little. I have been anxiously awaiting the release of "The Last Exorcism" for some time now and was rather hoping to find a scary movie that would at least leave me satisfied inside. I've long since stopped asking that a horror movie SCARE me. I just like to leave with a bit of a chill under my collar and feeling like I was spooked. "Quarantine" scared the fuck out of me and before that, it hadn't been since "The Exorcism of Emily Rose" that I had TRULY been scared by a horror film. "Paranormal Activity" was fun and left me feeling satisfied in the end, but it was also far from truly scaring me.

I don't want to sound callous to horror. But I cut my teeth on Freddy and Jason. I had a Pennywise doll that I slept with as a small child and I was the girl who LOVED when her mommy read serial killer biographies at bedtime. Needless to say, I grew up with a taste for horror. And in my day, there have been more than a couple of movies that have bitten my flesh and given me a sleepless night or two. But it's RARE. Even in the Golden Age of Slasher Porn (Saw, Hostel, House of a Thousand Corpses, Etc), it's hard for me to walk out of a movie going "WOW! I was SCARED." Most of the time I just snicker and rest safe in the knowledge that there's nothing scarier out there than what's in my mind when I'm in a psychotic manic state. It's like walking through a field at Gettysburg in my head. I know they're hallucinations. The shrink calls 'em "Horror Hallucinations" becuase they're very gory, very vivid, and VERY horrific. But demons? Ghosts? A fucking clown in a sewer? Child's Play.

So as I said before, all I really wanted was to leave the movie was a little chill under the collar going "spooky." This was not to be with "The Last Exorcist." I haven't walked out of a movie feeling so totally ripped off since the day I stormed out of "White Oleander." It was kind of surprising to me to have so much hatred for a movie upon viewing that I felt the need to IMMEDIATELY blog about how absolutely horrible the movie was in a LONG time.

*** WARNING!!! Spoilers ****

The basic premise is there's this disillusioned Pentecostal (I assume) minister named Cotton who has been performing exorcisms and preaching to a congregation since he was 10 years old. At some point, he basically stops believing in G-d, so he decides that he's going to do one last sham exorcism and PROVE its a sham before quitting the business of preaching altogether. So he hires a documentary crew to follow him around and film him giving this bogus exorcism to a random letter h picks out of a pile. The letter was written by Louis Sweetzer, who is concerned because his teenage daughter (Nell) keeps slaughtering livestock in her sleep. Queue the sham exorcism. And we think it's a success til she magically shows up in Cotton's hotel room on the other side of town in the middle of the night. After the glazed over teenager tries to mack on the ONE OTHER FEMALE in the group (sound/producer lady, Iris), they eventually take her to a hospital where she's pronounced in good health and released to her father. At some point, our sham preacher man goes BACK to the farm to follow up on the girl and finds Louis beating her wildly in the front yard (like GOOD rednecks). After some bullshit build up, the brother gets his face hacked open by the demon possessed sister and dad takes him to the hospital. Meanwhile, demon possessed little girl starts filming her expeditions into crazy land and then proceeds to chase around the film crew. At some point, an answering machine message is overheard telling the dad not to give the Halcyol to the girl because the person prescribing it didn't know Nell was pregnant. After some fun with camera play... Dad comes back and starts chasing the demon possessed girl with a shot gun because preacher man told him earlier that "the only salvation is through death." Insert some more fluff where the sham preacher man is trying to protect the girl while dad is like "I will KILL a bitch." So they go to perform another sham exorcism and the preacher man meets with the demon supposedly inhabiting the little girl... until the demon asks if he wants a "blowing job." Our pseudo-Preacher man goes on a tirade about how this is just a whacked out little girl until she starts screaming "SHE'S NOT INNOCENT." Then there's this whole twist about she fucked a kid that works at a diner... except the kid is gay and only met her once... so now there's holes in everyone's stories so the preacher man goes back to investigate and finds the house COVERED in random religious symbolism - including a celtic knot... I scoffed loudly. The New Yorker sitting behind me huffled loudly when I scoffed... but srsly?! A celtic KNOT?! They had pentagrams in ALL kind of orders, some 666's thrown in for good measure, and a bunch of Illuminati symbolism IN ADDITION to the damn celtic knot. I was not at ALL impressed. This movie was apparently so low budget that they didn't have the manpower to read about demonic symbolism on wikipedia BEFORE plastering the walls with black glitter painted on celtic knots. (And oh yes people.. it IS black glitter paint) eventually they track down the girl, being held to a table by the town pastor and his wife, who are supposedly performing demonic rituals on her. And then she gives birth to a dragon. And they throw the dragon in the fire. And the preacher runs out TO the fire trying to exorcise it and gets roasted. The producer lady and camera man take off for a "Flee Scene" oddly reminiscent of "The Blair Witch Project" only to get hacked to death by other satanists. Then the camera falls dead and we're at credits.

*** END SPOILERS ***

Here's my objective opinion:

#1 - This movie started out VERY slow. As if I wanted to spend the first 45 minutes delving into WHY the preacher man was suddenly disillusioned... like I give a shit. Regardless, this is the sum of the movie for the first third of the movie. It DRAGS. It's BORING. There's absolutely no point to it. The movie would have been better suited to have started with a BRIEF introduction to Cotton Marcus' disillusionment and spent more than 30 seconds detailing WHY he hired a camera crew to disprove Pentecostal exorcisms.

#2 - While it was slow to start, there were a few VERY quality horror scenes that could have made the whole thing into a FANTASTIC horror movie if we just kept running with it instead of adding the whole "Underground Cult" aspect to the movie. There's a part in the movie when everyone is sleeping and Nell takes off with the camera during one of her possessed moments. It cuts in and out a lot, but what she did in the window and the tool shed were QUALITY horror scenes. The whole movie could have been saved if they had just kept running with the idea that she was really possessed and her demon was a vain sonofabitch who liked filming himself THROUGH her. But no. This was not meant to be.

#3 - The director said, in an interview, that he and his crew reviewed NUMEROUS horror movies in an effort to keep their movie original by cutting the bits that resembled other horror movies. But it wasn't original in the least. It REEKED of "Been there, done that." Blair Witch was original because it was the first of its kind. Cloverfield was remarkable because it incorporated a new monster into American horror films - something that hasn't been done since the 80's. Rec/Quarantine preyed on our fears of being trapped and provided QUALITY zombies. "The Last Exorcism" is neither remarkable, original, nor does it allow for any rational person to be spooked. It feels like such a jumbled mess of already released horror flicks that I almost felt like I was watching "Not Another Horror Movie". It was ridiculous.

#4 - The ending was pretentious, poorly thought out, and basically left me going "WEAK.SAUCE." The MINUTE I caught wind of a Satan worshipping group in the plot line, I was PISSED.

All told, I want my $7 back, Harkins. Nobody should have to PAY to sit through that agonizingly copied and transparent attempt at a horror film.

Chasing Amy

I love this movie... So many quotables... I love how movies can give you such insight...

Holden: So it's true right?
Alyssa: Is that what you want to hear? Is it? Yeah, Holden, it's true. In fact, everything you heard or dug up on me is probably true. Yeah, I took on two guys at once! You wanna hear some gems you might not have unearthed? I took a 26 year old guy to my senior prom and left halfway through to have sex with him and Gwen Turner in the back of a limo. Or how about in college when I let Shannon Hamilton videotape us having sex, only to find out the next day he broadcast it on the campus cable station. They're all true, Holden. Didn't you know? I am the QUEEN of suburban legend.
Holden: Did you somehow fucking fail to mention this to me? What the fuck's wrong with you? How could you do all those things?
Alyssa: EASILY! Some I did out of stupidity, some I did out of what I thought was love. But good or bad they are MY choices and I am NOT making apologies for them now! Not to you, or not to anyone! And how dare you lay a guilt trip on me about it, in public, no less? Who the FUCK do you think you are, you judgmental prick?
Holden: How the fuck am I supposed to feel about all this?
Alyssa: How are you supposed to feel about it? Feel whatever the fuck you want to about it, all right? The only thing that matters is how you feel about ME.
Holden: I don't know how I feel about you now.
Alyssa: Why? Why? Because I had some sex?
Holden: SOME sex?
Alyssa: Yes, Holden. That's all it was, some sex. Most of it stupid high school sex. Like you never had sex in high school.
Holden: Alyssa, there is a world of fucking difference between typical high school sex and getting fucked by two fucking guys at the same time! They fucking used you.
Alyssa: NO! I used them! You don't think I would have let it happen if I hadn't wanted to, do you? I was an experimental girl, for Christ's sake! Maybe you knew early on that your track was from point A to B, but, unlike you, I was not given a fucking map at birth. So I tried it all. That is until WE - that's you and I - got together. And suddenly I was sated. Can't you take some fucking comfort in that? [sobbing] You turned out to be all I was looking for, the missing piece in the big fucking puzzle. Look, I'm sorry that I let you believe you were the only guy I'd ever been with. I should have been more honest. But it just didn't - It seemed to make you feel special in a way that me telling you over and over how incredible you are wouldn't get across. Holden, I'm sorry.
(Presses herself into Holden's chest)
Holden: Just don't do that.
(pushes her away)
Alyssa: Do you mean to tell me that, while you have zero problem with me sleeping with half the women in New York City, you have some sort of half assed, mealy mouthed objection to pubescent actions that took place almost ten years ago? What the fuck is your problem?
Holden: I want us to be something that we can't be?
Alyssa: And what's that?
Holden: A normal couple.
(walks away)

Jay: So four tits or what?
Holden: No, man. It's not like that.
Jay: What's it like then?
Holden: Right now? I don't know. I love her you know? But, uh, she has a past.
Jay: I'll say. Stuffin' two guys, eating' chicks out and shit. You know I heard, this one time she had this dog -
Holden: Eat your fucking bagel already and shut up.
Jay: Look at this touchy motherfucker right here. So if you're all in love and shit, what's the problem?
Holden: The problem is stupid shit like that. It was bad enough when it was just girls, you know? You throw guys in the mix - two guys at once, no less - All that experience, you know. What am I supposed to think?
Jay: Think "good," ya fuckin' ninny shithead, 'cause now she'll be all true and blue and shit. Bitch tasted life. Now she's settlin' for your boring funny-book-makin' ass.

Silent Bob: So there's me and Amy, and we're all inseparable, right? Just big time in love. And then four months down the road, the idiot gear kicks in, and I ask about the ex-boyfriend. Which, as we all know, is a really dumb move. But you know how it is: you don't wanna know, but you just have to, right? Stupid guy bullshit. So, anyway, she starts telling me about him... how they fell in love, and how they went out for a couple of years, and how they lived together, her mother likes me better, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah... and I'm okay. But then she drops the bomb on me, and the bomb is this: it seems that a couple of times, while they were going out, he brought some people to bed with them. Menage à trois, I believe it's called. Now this just blows my mind, right? I mean, I am not used to this sort of thing. I mean, I was raised Catholic, for God's sake. So I'm totally weirded out by this, right? And then I just start blasting her. Like... I don't know how to deal with what I'm feeling, so I figure the best way is by calling her a slut, right? And tell her she was used. I'm... I'm out for blood. I really wanna hurt this girl. I'm like, "What the fuck is your problem?", right? And she's just all calmly trying to tell me, like, it was that time and it was that place and she doesn't think she should apologize because she doesn't feel that she's done anything wrong. I'm like, "Oh, really?" That's when I look her straight in the eye, I tell her it's over. I walk.
Jay: Fuckin 'A!
Silent Bob: No, idiot. It was a mistake. I didn't hate her. I wasn't disgusted with her. I was afraid. At that moment, I felt small, like... like I'd lacked experience, like I'd never be on her level, like I'd never be enough for her or something like that, you know what I'm saying? But, what I did not get, she didn't care. She wasn't looking for that guy anymore. She was... she was looking for me, for the Bob. But, uh, by the time I figure this all out, it was too late, man. She moved on, and all I had to show for it was some foolish pride, which then gave way to regret. She was the girl, I know that now. But I pushed her away. So, I've spent every day since then chasing Amy... so to speak.

Holden: No? I thought you'd be into this.
Alyssa: You did? What does that say about me?
Holden: Sweetheart, you've done stuff like this before. I mean, this should be no big deal for you.
Alyssa: You don't want this. You really don't want this.
Holden: No, I DO want this. This has to happen. Can't you see that? I mean, how can you not? No? What does that say about ME? You can take it from two guys whose names you can barely remember but I ask you to share an experience where it's about intimacy, and you say no?
Alyssa: I can't.
Holden: Baby, yes. You can. I'm telling you. I'll be there. And when it's over we'll be the strongest we've ever been 'cause we'll have been through this together. And then we'll be on the same level and there'll be nothing we can't accomplish.
Alyssa: [crying] Oh, Holden. That time is over for me. I've been there and I've done it and I didn't find what I was looking for in any of it. I found that in you. In us. Doing this won't help you forget about the things you're hung up on. It'll just create more.
Holden: No. It won't. I've thought about all that.
Alyssa: Yes it will. Maybe you'll see me differently from then on. You know. Or maybe you'll despise me for going along with it once you're in the moment. Maybe I'll moan differently and then you'll resent Banky and become suspicious of us. Or you'll alienate him because of it. And you'll grow to blame and hate me for the deterioration of your friendship. Or what if - and God, I sincerely doubt it - but what if I saw something in Banky that I've never seen before, you know, and I fell in love with him and left you. I've been down roads like this before. Many times. I know you feel doing this will broaden your horizons and give you experience. But I've had those experiences, on my own. And I can't accompany you on yours. I'm past that now. Or maybe I just love you too much. And I feel hurt and let down that you would want to share me with anyone. Because I would never want to share you.

Poignant.

A Wrench in Your Plans - Part Two of the House of Faith Saga

I originally wanted to make this an amendment to the House of Faith blog I wrote several weeks ago but then I decided I had too much to share to confine it to just a few sentences.

These past few weeks have been some of the most difficult weeks of my whole damn life. I don't want to minimize the effect that Rabbi Bramly's untimely departure had on the Jewish community as a whole but shortly after my blog hit the airwaves, I found myself all alone in my one bedroom apartment without a shoulder to lean on. In the last 5 weeks, my world has been turned upside down. My instinctive reaction to stress like this... to being abandoned and having no place to turn... is to run away. As fast and far as my feet will carry me. It's been no secret that I've spent a good percentage of my life on the run, trying to outrun the shadows gaining on me and to "reinvent" myself every time I'm fractured to the core. I freely admitted to people that I was moving to Charlotte to get away from all that was bad here. To get away from the memories of spending lazy Sunday afternoons at The Jerusalem Pita Grill... from the monthly mikveh nights... from the ark and the scrolls that housed so much of my inner pain... from the synagogue that grew cold to me.

I sat in therapy a few weeks ago and outlined to my therapist just how I planned to run away from all the bullshit here. I was running away from Jeremiah, from Temple Beth Sholom, from all the pain and sorrow and anguish this damn state has inflicted upon me since day one. In short, I was putting on my running sneakers again.

My therapist looked at me with one raised eyebrow and said, "Well be prepared for a wrench to be thrown into those plans of yours." What wrench could POSSIBLY stop me from taking the next flight out of this G-dforsaken place and onto a new life?

Let me be the first to say that when I started out this past weekend, I never IMAGINED the two wrenches that fell right into my plans would appear. I may be having a hard time putting the $5k aside for this venture, but that was a problem I knew would be happening.

What I did not anticipate was that I would find myself standing in front of a Holiday Inn at 9:30pm on a Monday night, grabbing onto the brick walls as if they could offer me stability when the floor was just yanked out from underneath me, sobbing my heart out, knowing that nothing could have prepared me for what just happened.

I have received numerous emails from Rabbi's wife, detailing his current struggle to exonerate himself, clear his good name, and get back to living his life. I've kept abreast of all the news sources and written several half blogs full of anger and venom. I also received one very long and very personal letter from Rabbi Bramly that now hides in the depths of my inbox where no one can see it but me because I needed that letter. I needed what he said. I thought I'd never see him again so that was my last little bit of connection to him that I had. And I guard it FIERCELY.

The Dude has been shut out in these last two weeks because he works in the media and I will NOT have the media getting their hands on my Rebbe. I asked my therapist if this was normal and she told me that it was perfectly okay for me to keep Rabbi Bramly in one box and the Dude in another box so that never the twain shall meet. She didn't find my need to protect him or defend him in any way unhealthy given that he was such a huge part of my life for such a long time.

But tonight, Rabbi Bramly, his family, and his lawyer held a kind of town hall meeting where we finally got to hear his side. I'm still very protective of the meeting and what was said so there's no need to go into details. I'm still very protective of Rabbi Bramly and his family so I choose not to use my blog as a vehicle to express the hurt I feel at the community as a whole.

A large part of me didn't want to go tonight. I didn't want to deal with the people at the synagogue who left me out to dry, I didn't want to deal with the faces I knew who once slandered Rebbe's name and would now act like they never had a doubt of his innocence, and I didn't want to deal with the drama. My therapist urged me to go. Knowing I was having issues with transference, and that I spent a solid hour sobbing my wee little heart out about how this whole situation has left me in ruins, she still told me to go. The Dude told me to go. My friends all told me to go. My mom told me to go.

People kept saying things like "healing" and "closure" as if being in the same room with him would somehow make all the loneliness and abandonment I'd felt in these last 5 weeks would suddenly vanish into thin air by watching him take to a pulpit again. I knew they were all wrong. The only thing that would make me feel better was a little one-on-one face time, to know I mattered to him as much as he mattered to me, to hear him say "I will never leave you." There was no "closure" to be had, just as there is no "closure" to be had with Jeremiah. My therapist told me to go just so I knew he was okay. I was battered, beaten down, and a hollow shell of my former self. I was sick to my stomach with all the stress and drama I knew would be coming. I didn't want to face THEM. It wasn't about HIM. It was always about THEM. And up until 6:45pm, when I pulled into the parking lot, I didn't know if I would have the strength TO go and face all the bullshit for just one more look at my beloved Rabbi.

But I did.

I gave myself a wide breathing room when I got there. I knew where the drama was and I knew that in order to avoid it I was going to have to do some fancy footwork. I hyperventilated in the parking lot but I kept telling myself - I'm here for him, not for them. And when I got there, after carefully navigating some drama, I saw my Rabbi, freshly shaven and looking like he'd just been hit by a mack truck. People were talking to him and he looked humbled by the outpouring of support. He would later tell us that when he'd reserved the hall, he was expecting 100... maybe 115 people. He wasn't expecting a standing room-only crowd and over 200 people there to give support. Yet, here we all stood. A sign of solidarity.

I freely admit that I've been dealing with issues of transference and having projected my own humiliating daddy issues onto Rabbi Bramly these past few weeks was really screwing with my head. I was terrified that seeing him would conjure up emotions I am still not ready to deal with off of my therapist's couch. I'd managed to talk myself off of the ceiling a few days prior but I was terrified that I hadn't worked through my issues and they would rear their ugly head once again. But as I rounded the corner and recognized him, standing in the doorway in that suit that's always been just a little too long for his arms, I felt for him exactly what I wanted to feel - that of a daughter who hadn't seen her father in a long time.

And when it came time for me to say, "Hello! I made it! I'm here for you," a smile crossed his face, his eyes lit up, and he embraced me. He told me that he'd read my previous blog (House of Faith) and how it had meant so much to him. He told me that he was glad to see me, that he didn't think I would come. I had no words. I was just trying to keep myself from crying and becoming a miserable wreck. I was here for him. I told myself that as I walked in, I told myself that as I approached him, I told myself that as I wrapped my arms around him and once again felt the sweet embrace of someone who cares for you as much as you care for them. I'm not here for me. I'm here for you. Because I love you. Because you mean the world to me. Because YOU are MY Rabbi.

Then we did the town hall meeting. Rabbi Bramly spoke for a bit. His lawyer spoke for a bit. The Rebbetzen got up and spoke for a short while. The floor opened for questions. After a trove of legal questions, one woman got up and asked when he would be coming back to us. Her voice was echoed by the rest of the room and within minutes the congregants had turned on the board to express displeasure with how things were handled. This became a vicious all out battle but nobody from the board stood up to deal with this. In my opinion, they laid their bed and they were all being forced by the community to lie in it. Rebbetzen got up and spoke about how this meeting was to UNITE us, not divide us, and angrily told the congregants to simmer down.

Part of me felt relieved that I wasn't the only one who would follow Rabbi Bramly to the ends of the earth if he asked me. Quite frankly, I was glad that people started attacking the board. I have my own issues with the synagogue that I will not air to the public but suffice it to say, without Rabbi Bramly, the synagogue means nothing to me. Not anymore. They used to mean a great deal to me. But when they all turned their backs on me in my darkest hour of need, I turned my back on them. It's not like I didn't try to reach out. I did. And I even laid my soul bare in a public forum just so SOMEBODY would pick up the phone and dial my number. Nobody did. Not one single phone call, facebook message, email... nothing. As far as I'm concerned, they abandoned ME. And that's not a hurt I take lightly.

Part of me found myself staring at utter turmoil because the proposition on the table was "When are you coming back?" And Rabbi Bramly answered it by stating that once he's done vindicating his good name, and if the synagogue will have him back, he will be back. Here I was, ready to abandon all of them under the belief that he never WOULD come back. Yet he stood before the group of congregants angrily clamoring to have their Rabbi back and told us that he will come back to his pulpit as soon as he possibly could.

All this hurt welled up inside me as I listened to incensed person after incensed person take issue with how things have been handled since this malicious falsehood rocked our community. I wanted to get in line and air out my grievances too. But I stayed silent. I wasn't there to raise issue with the hypocrites who flat out abandoned Rabbi Bramly in his hour of need and then showed up and acted like they'd been on his side the whole time. I wasn't there to take issue with the Sisterhood that reminded me that I owed dues before asking how I was doing. I wasn't there to take issue with the fact that my phone has laid silent for weeks as I have had to redefine my life without Rabbi Bramly.

I was there for one reason and one reason only - to show Rebbe that I was still on his side.

Afterward, it was a fight to get through the crowds. A large barrier of people stood between me and getting to my beloved Rabbi. But I was desperate. Just one last chance to say goodbye and I needed him. I waited patiently. I stood in lines. I mulled over a great many one liners to say to him to ease the tension, bring a smile to his face and settled on one I thought would leave no room for tears. As the crowds thinned, it was just me and my Rebbe standing face to face. He wrapped his arms around me and I said, "Why do you always gotta throw a wrench in my plans? I was gonna move to Charlotte til I heard you might come back." He chuckled as he heard me say my one liner then pulled away and he spoke to me, as if we were the only two in the room... how he'd read my blog and many times he'd wanted to post a reply to it, but he never felt that his reply would be something I'd want the whole world to read. He told me that I'd called him Rebbe, and that meant the WORLD to him. He told me that he would ALWAYS be my Rabbi, that he would never stop BEING my Rabbi, and that he'd also felt that deep father-daughter connection I always felt. He spoke for what seemed like an hour but was in reality only a few moments. I couldn't help it. I started sobbing. He embraced me tightly and told me that he'd always be there for me, if ever I needed him. Which was exactly what I needed to hear. I didn't want to hear it... I wanted it to be all about him and how WE were supporting HIM. I went there to support HIM. I was broken, battered, and trying desperately to say my final goodbyes to the one man on the face of this earth who'd never failed me. And I walked out with him supporting me.

I'm sobbing now as I write these words and part of me doesn't WANT to write them down. I want to keep them secret... to tuck them in a shoe box and look at them whenever I'm feeling lost and alone. But I don't want these memories to fade. I don't want to lose his voice in my ear, telling me what I needed to hear, speaking to me as if I were the only person in the room. I don't want to lose the way I felt tonight as a wave of relief rushed over me, knowing I was never alone. I don't want to lose him all over again.

After I was composed enough to move through the crowds some more, I made my way over to the Rebbetzen. I had no words for her. She's going through the worst hell anyone can imagine... times 10. So I waited my turn to hug her and I said the only thing that came into my head... "My mother always said women are the backbone of the family. Stay strong. You'll get through this."

It sounds so trite now. I was embarrassed the moment those words slipped out of my mouth. What kind of strength do I have to offer this woman and what right do I have in giving her advice? Here's a woman with decades of life beyond me and I was trying to offer HER words of wisdom!? What the hell was wrong with me!! I couldn't believe I had said something so stupid and I quickly darted out of the room. I passed the drama, I avoided the dirty looks, and, as soon as the doors to the Holiday Inn opened to let me out, I fell apart at the seams.

Rabbi Bramly had told me EXACTLY what I needed to hear EXACTLY when I needed to hear it, whether or not I was ready to hear what he had to say on the matter.

And what tore me up inside was that I want so desperately to bring my first wrench to meet my second wrench.

You see, Rabbi Bramly openly stating that he will come back to TBS so long as they will have him was a BIG fucking wrench in my plans. As we stated in the last blog, I will follow him to the ends of the earth. But he was the second wrench in my plans.

You know, everyone I know keeps saying that the relationship you're meant to be in will magically show up when you're not looking for it. I've heard that a lot. It's never once happened to me. I was looking when I met Jason, when I met Justin, when I met Jeremiah. Never once has a dude just fallen into my lap. And not looking for anything was keeping me sane. It was keeping me focused on the prize. Work, home, library, and dog park. That was my life. There was no room for error. Charlotte was on the horizon and I had to get there. Besides... what man approaches someone at the library, especially when she's in sweats and her hair is still wet.

Well...

While perusing a copy of The Ghost of Hannah Mendes, a 32 year old career pilot who stands 5'11" with brunette hair, sky blue eyes, and a scruffy beard approached me in the fiction stacks at the local library. I was less than pleasant but he was persistent. He's also devastatingly attractive. And after a coffee, several hours of conversation, and flirty glances over a table, he had my number. A day later, he called me and we talked for four hours... about my plans to move and his life as a pilot and our families and our religious backgrounds. Within a couple of days, he was taking me out for dancing and karaoke. And before I knew it, I came up for air and realized that I was completely sprung over this kid. I didn't just LIKE him... I was completely and totally enamored with him. It's a short leap from where I stand right now to head over heels in love.

World... meet Wrench Number One.

And after a couple of whirlwind dates, several days of 4 hour long conversations on the phone, and one passion filled weekend, I have to admit to myself that when I fall, I fall hard and fast. I don't take the easy route at all. Love is one of those things that you think you plan for and then you get cracked on the head with the reality bat. I'm not saying I'm IN LOVE with wrench Number One. I'm not in love with anyone at the moment. But I know the possibility is there and I know that if this past week is any indication, I'm about 2 wrong steps from being cracked in the skull.

In my defense, I wasn't looking to meet a guy at all. It wasn't just the Dude. It was ALL men. I had long since given up on men in this town and I was convinced that my Prince Charming was waiting for me in Charlotte. I wasn't looking to date anyone, and I damn sure didn't want wrench number one to think he was GOING to be a wrench in my plans. My mind was made up. He was definitely hot and I was definitely in need of some good lovin'. But I was determined to blow this town and continue the search for my perfect Jewish gentleman elsewhere.

Charlotte is still a maybe in the grand scheme of things, unless I magically win the lottery. I do want to move home, to start my life over and raise a family where my parents will be close enough to enjoy being around their grandchildren. And even if it seems a pipe dream, I was still determined to keep my ties to this state minimal. I might invest a little in a friend I made here and there. But I wasn't out to make NEW friends, and I damn sure didn't want a guy showing up to throw a wrench in my plans. The Dude was safe, but he was annoying as all hell and every time we got together I would grow tired of his immaturity.

Let's be honest for a moment - it just wasn't working out, the Dude and me. We had never gone back to being exclusive and I'd been very clear with him that he would NEVER be a wrench in my plans to escape this state and move to Charlotte. I never once lied to The Dude about anything. I never said I loved him, I never led him believe our relationship was anything more than a pleasant distraction from the monotony of my daily life. But after our last evening out, when he couldn't ease up even the slightest about the superficial car damage... I started avoiding him too.

World, let me be frank for a moment and say that when I first broke up with The Dude, I created a list of logical reasons why I was ending things. And after Rabbi Bramly's arrest, I was in a particularly vulnerable and fragile emotional state. So it's easy to see why I took the first available shoulder to cry on and ran with it. But as time has gone on... as the bleeding gaping wound left when Rabbi Bramly was arrested started to scab over, I suddenly realized that I had a very distinct need in this world and The Dude would never be able to meet those needs. He's not a bad guy. I would never say that. He's a great guy. And some day he will make some girl very happy. But I'm not that girl. Unfortunately, I thought that he was getting on my nerves because I was PMSing or because the moon was full or new or a quarter of full. I kept letting shit slide with him that I shouldn't have let slide all because I was tired of people saying I was isolating and if The Dude was around, at least I had empirical proof that I wasn't.

But the reality is that I WAS isolating. I became a hermit of sorts. I didn't venture out to see friends, I quit answering the phone when I knew they wanted to go out, I didn't go out by myself anymore... except to the library and the dog park. Well I wasn't going to meet any good-looking, single, Jewish boys at the dog park. I wasn't making any long-lasting friendships there either. I might talk to people, be social for an hour or so until Isabelle got cranky and it was time to go home. But all in all, I wasn't leaving my house because I was convinced that there was nothing waiting for me out there.

I would go to work, bury myself in my job, go home, eat dinner, surf the internet, and go to bed. On Saturdays, I would go to the library to return the books I'd completed that week and pick up a new stack from the librarian's suggestions. On Sundays, I'd go to the dog park. Other than that, I was a hermit.

And then Wrench Number One walked in and fucked up everything. He didn't do it intentionally. He has made such a valiant effort to keep himself in check and to keep verbalizing that I'm leaving in 6 months. But I don't think either of us is buying it anymore.

I feel mildly bad for The Dude. I haven't yet told him that I'm going to be effectively cutting him off from all things me. Part of me hopes he reads this blog and understands that I never meant for any of this to happen - it just kinda DID. Things weren't working out anyway and I was already trying to figure out if I was just PMSing or if I was truly finally done trying with him. And it's not like I was up late one night cruising the personals looking for a man to keep me company. He came up to me at the library, of all places. Wrench Number One KNOWS I want to move to Charlotte and he knows that I've had this totally abnormal non-sexual thing going on with The Dude for the last month or so. I've been able to be unusually open and honest with Wrench Number One because I didn't want there to be any room for him to say I didn't tell him something. But, as I told him tonight, he's a big fucking wrench in my plans.

He apologized to me, said he never meant to be a wrench in my plans, that he knows how important this move is to me... but then he said that maybe us meeting wasn't a wrench in my plans. Rather it was my plans becoming fully realized. I persisted. He's a wrench in my plans.

My therapist told me to be prepared for a wrench in my plans. She didn't say to prepare for two. With only one wrench in the plans, it's easy to think that the plans you had can still be realized. But when there's two wrenches in your plans... and they're BIG fucking wrenches... life altering wrenches... you kind of have to take a step back and wonder if G-d herself isn't knocking on your door to tell you that you're full of shit and here's how I prove it.

House of Faith

------
NOTE:
In a deviation from the norm, below is an entirely true post. It's also not angry or funny.
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My first experience with Temple Beth Sholom came one Friday night in February 2008. Justin and I had broken up for the second time and I was feeling lost in the world. I hadn't gone to synagogue since leaving Las Vegas because I was tired of the never ending battle between liberal Jews and Orthodox Jews. I embraced a theology somewhere in the middle, what with my kosher home and my Irish Catholic boyfriend.

I opened a phone book and found a place called Temple Beth Sholom. I liked the name because I went to a Temple Beth Sholom in Las Vegas. It was a conservative synagogue, something I was also used to at the previous TBS. I found out when Friday night services were and I made the decision to attend. I dressed up and found my way to Temple Beth Sholom. I cried through the services. I was hurting so deeply. After services, I went to the Oneg and sat at a table with a cup of lemonade, trying desperately not to cry. A man approached me and introduced himself as Rabbi Bryan Bramly. He sat down next to me and I told him I'd just moved to the valley from Las Vegas. He said he knew my previous Rabbi. I couldn't stop myself from tearing up. He wrapped an arm around me and whispered into my ear, "I'm leaving for Israel on Monday. Come back Sunday with whatever prayer you want and I will put it in the Kotel (The Wailing Wall) for you." He pointed at a paper and cardboard mock up of the Kotel. "Put it behind that," he said. I couldn't help myself. I started sobbing. He hugged me and said, "Whatever pain you're feeling must be deep. Know that you have a family here."

I snuck into the building the following Sunday with a prayer that read simply, "Make it stop." As I was sneaking back out of the common room, Rabbi Bramly saw me and waved. I waved back, and then walked to my car.

I returned to that synagogue and started making friends. The real reason I kept returning was Rabbi Bramly though. His warmth, compassion, and understanding made him take a primary role in my life as a father figure and a religious leader. While I love my dad and he's done his damndest to be there for me when I need him, my dad didn't get it the way Rabbi Bramly did.

Rabbi Bramly took me under his wing and we started meeting twice a month for one-on-one conversations. I vanished from the synagogue community for a brief period when I met Jeremiah. But in short order, I brought the man I fell in love with around my synagogue family and my rabbi. I called him "Rebbe" to his face, the Hebrew equivalent of My Teacher, as a sign of respect and a term of endearment. He was my Rabbi. When I lost myself to a haze of mania in October of 2008, Rabbi Bramly comforted me with scripture to prove this was not G-d's punishment but a challenge to step over. He was the second person I told when I was diagnosed with breast cancer (the first being Jeremiah who was there with me that day). In the two years since meeting him and my first visit to Temple Beth Sholom, Rabbi Bramly and I became very close. He was there at my mikveh as I was presented to the Jewish community as a Jew. He gave me my first aliyah. He was there to celebrate when I got engaged, he helped plan the wedding, he helped pick out the Ketubah, and he counseled me and Jeremiah whenever we needed him. From the dark times to the great times and right back into one of the darkest periods of my life, Rabbi Bramly stood beside me lock step, holding me up when I didn't think I could stand any longer, offering me a flashlight when I was standing in the dark, and always with a compassionate, listening ear as I navigated the terrain of life. He stood up to me when I was being bull headed and stupid. He never once treated me like an inferior. He called me out on my bullshit when I was trying to hide the very things that were costing me my soul. And he always... always had a gentle hug waiting for me when I needed to know I wasn't alone or that it was ok to be feeling a particular way.

Knowing Jeremiah and I were going through hell and on rocky terrain, as he had been counseling us in an effort to save our relationship, while I stood in front of the open Ark for my Yom Kippur Aliyah, Rabbi Bramly leaned over and whispered, "Pour it all out to G-d. That's why you have this aliyah." I faced the Torah scrolls and started sobbing. Jeremiah and I broke up within days of that aliyah. I cried in Rabbi Bramly's office a week later. "You should be trying on your dress, not preparing to move across town," he told me. I returned to services the Friday after the date my wedding was scheduled for. I desperately fought back tears. Rabbi Bramly embraced me and said, "I was thinking of you on Wednesday. I'm glad to see you tonight." I started sobbing, I sobbed the whole way through services. Various friends tried to comfort me but it was Rabbi Bramly who reminded me that it was okay to feel totally torn up inside. I raged. I sobbed. I screamed and wept and ran the gamut of emotions. He let me. He supported me. He helped me find my way through the tunnel. He offered wisdom and light when there was only confusion and darkness.

I was a sporadic member after the break up. A large part of me just couldn't take any more of the sympathetic looks as if I had recently given birth to a kid with a terminal illness. I was also constantly reminded of Jeremiah every time the ark was opened, every time I sang "L'cha Dodi," every time I watched Allen and Debora hold hands. People hugged me and said they understood where I was coming from but I felt like Rabbi Bramly was my only anchor in the storm. He was my life jacket. I started going less and less frequently, isolating myself more and more. Rabbi Bramly would passively email me if I hadn't been to shul in a while just to make sure I was ok. I took a Hebrew class with Rabbi Bramly and I occasionally went to services, though my attendance and membership fell off in the weeks following my breakup from Jeremiah. I knew he would never just show up, but everywhere I looked I was reminded of him. All I had after our breakup was Rabbi Bramly. I felt like if anything was ever wrong, I could always go to Rabbi Bramly and he would help me get through it. The people were always in flux for me. Sometimes there, sometimes not. He was steady, constant, and my only stability in an otherwise chaotic world.

Yes, I adore my synagogue friends. But for as much as I love and adore them, I loved and adored Rabbi Bramly more. He was MY Rabbi. He was the whole reason I went to Temple Beth Sholom. They say a synagogue is made up of the people who go, but, for me, the shul was made up of Rabbi Bramly.

He was arrested last week, accused of a crime so heinous I can't even talk about it. My WHOLE WORLD was shattered. This man I loved and knew and respected couldn't POSSIBLY have done that. I didn't know where to lean anymore. Normally, I would have leaned on Rabbi Bramly. I would have texted him and scheduled an appointment to rage on and on about it and he would have offered me wisdom and comfort. My synagogue friends all told me to lean on them. The Dude popped back up and offered his shoulder to lean on.

I tried to lean on a few people at the shul and was never once met with coldness. The community by and large knows that this is a tragedy and we're all deeply affected. But it just wasn't the same. I hate to be the greedy one but I needed more. I wanted to know I wasn't the only one who felt like a sheep without her shepherd. Everyone I talked to was very clear that the community will always open their arms to me and will continue on long past this tragedy. It became glaringly apparent that I would be the only one who didn't know if she could bounce back from this.

Nothing feels right anymore. My whole world has come tumbling to the ground in a matter of months. I have no more flashlight, no more life jacket, no more stability.

And now I'm at an impasse. I have stopped speaking to people who openly expressed anger at Rabbi Bramly. Loyalty runs deep with me and I was his devoted follower. To me, he was more than just a Rabbi or a spiritual leader. To me, he was the Rebbe. After years of not fully understanding why the Lubavitcher Jews felt so strongly that the 7th Rebbe was the messiah, I finally GET it. I GET why he is so important to them. Rabbi Schneerson (of blessed memory) was the closest we have gotten to a messiah like figure. He was a man above us, a conduit between the mortal and the immortal. He was G-d-like to them. His wisdom was timeless and his compassion knew no bounds.

Rabbi Bramly was G-d-like to me. He was the middle man between me and Hashem. He was holier than me and I was - for lack of a better word - a groupie. Rabbi Bramly MADE Temple Beth Sholom for me. The people were nice and welcoming. The friends I made will stay with me for a long while. But Rabbi Bramly was the whole reason I went to shul. I went there to see HIM. I went to commune with G-d and to be comforted by my Rabbi.

There is a large pressure for me to return to Temple Beth Sholom and lean on my synagogue friends in this time of trial... but the shul will never be the same for me. I knew long ago that if Rabbi Bramly left, so would I. Even if he's exonerated, he will never be allowed back to TBS. One person said to me that he'd kill my Rabbi if he ever saw him again. I just want to go to him and unload everything I'm feeling. I felt safe with Rabbi Bramly. He was the only Rabbi I have known in a long time who struck me as a genuinely good person. I left TBS Las Vegas because the Rabbi was arrogant. I left Or Bamidbar because the Rabbi never took an interest in me. I never felt at HOME in a synagogue until Rabbi Bramly embraced me that dark February night. And now I feel like I don't have a home. I am torn between wanting to find a new synagogue and with wanting to go back to TBS. Up until last Shabbat, I was firmly in the denial phase... Rabbi was just on vacation. He'll be back. Then it hit me - he's not coming back. I'm never going to see him again. And I'm not ready to move on from that. When Jeremiah left me, I leaned on TBS HARD. I felt so abandoned but I still had a home there. And now, I've been abandoned all over again.

I can't move on. I'm still grieving Jeremiah. I can't grieve Jeremiah AND Rabbi Bramly at the same time. TBS has grown so cold to me... like an old hangout that closed for business years ago. I know they need to get a new Rabbi and I think they're right to do so. There are kids to bar mitzvah, converts to convert, weddings and funerals to officiate. There's rabbi stuff needing to be done and no Rabbi to do them. But I don't know that I will be able to accept a new Rabbi. He could be the nicest guy in the world, an older gentleman with decades of wisdom to back him up. But it's not the same. He's A Rabbi. Not MY Rabbi. I miss Rebbe.

I know that if he had a choice, he wouldn't have abandoned me. And I know that he left more than just me. I don't want to minimize the devistation to the whole community. I pray that someone else out there feels the same way that I do and that we can reach each other amidst all this chaos. I know that some will seek comfort in "he was a man like you or I and he was imperfect" but I can't seek comfort in that. I hurt. I was abandoned by my mom... I was abandoned by my dad... I was abandoned by my fiance... I was abandoned by my rabbi. No amount of crying on anyone's shoulders will lessen the pain I feel. I feel like we had a special and unique relationship... a father-daughter kind of relationship. I keep cruising the online comments to read everything that people say about this man they didn't know. I'm waiting for news from New York about his first appearance. I need to feel like I'm still a part of his life. I wish there was a way to write to him because if there was, you can bet I would be writing him. I want to hide his wife and son in my apartment... to shield them from the scrutiny they are going to face as a result. I wish I had done more to befriend them the way I befriended my Rabbi. They were always so welcoming to me.

And so I am left in conflict. To stay or to leave. while part of me knows that I will always have a place among the members at the shul, I also know that Temple Beth Sholom will never be the same for me. My belief that I am a Jew is not shaken and my religious devotion has only deepened as a result of my many conversations with Rabbi Bramly. But my home at TBS is no longer a home to me. It is a strange building now, overgrown with ivy and no longer resembling the place where I once found such solace. The community will recover but I may not. This has shaken me to my core.

On the first night of Pesach... I find myself struggling with my identity. I was once such an active member at the shul. I knew the Rabbi, had his cell number, made friends with the other members, and I had a home. I defined myself as a Jewish woman with a Rabbi and a synagogue membership. But if I left, where would I go? There are a few other synagogues in the valley... some Reform, some Conservative, some Orthodox. If I left, would I stay with the Conservative movement? Would I go Orthodox? If I went Orthodox, I'd have to move and re-convert. I may have to move anyway. I may want to re-convert anyway. And I'm seriously considering abandoning this whole state in search of greener pastures. I just don't think I can take it anymore. First Jeremiah, now this. I'm at a loss.

** UPDATE **
After some of my daily googling, I am really glad I skipped out on services this week. In addition to my crisis of faith, it looks like the Aryan Nation took to the grounds to protest the allegations.


It should be noted that a man is innocent until proven guilty in this country.

*** UPDATED April 3 ***
Apparently word of this blog post has made its way to NYC as I just received a personal email from Rabbi Bramly thanking me for standing beside him in these trying times. The letter was incredibly long and intensely personal. It was meant for my eyes only so I won't be going into details other than to say that even in his darkest hour, Rabbi Bramly is still lock step with me. And I'll be doing what I can to show him that I'm staying lock step with him as well.