So, you know how in my last post, I said that life Down Under hadn't been hugely exciting of late? That there wasn't too much to report? Well, the events of the last 3 hours have completely turned that one on its head. And as I'm a dedicated blogger now (and also because I like a bit of a gossip, even if it is done electronically), I've rushed straight home to update you all...
Now before I start the story, it's worth you knowing the background. My family history is fairly complex, especially on my dad's side. The pertinent facts are these: my family is Jewish, although my parents and I have always been non-practicing. The lure of pork outweighs the lure of heavenly rewards (I mean, come on! A bacon sandwich is our heavenly reward, available on a daily basis, here on earth. Am I wrong?!).
But anyhow - my dad has a brother, Larry. And Larry married a non-Jew, who converted in order for his parents (my grandparents) to be happy bunnies. So, my Auntie - the Mad Mexican (this is actually her name... just so long as you don't use it to her face...) - is technically not Jewish, as she wasn't "born in" to the religion, as orthodox Jews believe you need to be, in order to be truly Jewish. To coin another technical term, she's also a raging bitch. (Harsh words, but true)
Before I carry on, I'd like to say that from my perspective, Larry should have married whoever he wanted to, Jewish or not, whether they converted or not. As per one of my earlier posts - I'm a believer in free love, free speech, and free chocolate (although the latter is yet to be really looked at by the UN. I'm hopeful that one day it will happen. But I digress). What matters to me is that someone has a good heart. The rest - colour / orientation / religion etc. is just background.
But Larry married the Mad Mexican (hereon known as MM), who - as the name suggests - is Mexican. And insane. And a bitch. Wow, this is becoming a tirade. Let me explain...
For 'Shabbat lunch' today, I was invited to the Larry & MM household. Now this was always going to be a tricky one. My father is shunned by them, for marrying my (non-Jewish) stepmum. (My mother is Jewish, which makes me Jewish and therefore acceptable in L & MM's eyes. Indeed, I'm practically "Super-Jew" having both sides who are entirely and completely Jewish). But my dad has broken the rules. And as a result, his existence is denied & denounced by the MM.
Now here's the thing - I don't do shunning. And I don't do people f*cking with people I care about. And my dad's the best. And he's happy with my stepmum. And other than her occasionally beating me with wet towels (she likes to live up to the stepmother stereotype) my stepmum is a great human being. Ok, she obsesses a bit about cleanliness (which is fine when you're a guest, not so much when you're living there...) - but no - in seriousness. She's great. The short story here is that giving me grief about either of them, or indeed, anyone I care about, is not going to go down particularly well. I'm loyal, like a shih tsu (see below):
So - I'm at lunch. I'm aware that my parents (i.e. my dad and stepmum) are shunned, which makes me feel fairly uncomfortable. I'm also aware that the Mad Mexican (she emigrated from Mexico when she met Larry) has dragon breath, and an expression to match. Fortunately, she's only 4'8, so should she really irritate me, I am prepared to squash her. Or knee her in the jaw. Whichever. (She really brings out the violence in me - not good). Anyway, I sit down, and Larry, the MM, and my 3 cousins (actually very sweet girls, despite their hideous mother) do the whole Jewish thing. I don't know quite what. I'm aware that prayers were involved. Beyond that - no idea. I just assumed the standard position of looking deep in thought, combined with an expression of serious attention. In all likelihood, I actually ended up looking quite constipated, but anyway.
Lunch gets underway. The MM is also a terrible "cook". Our starter was grated carrot with tinned pineapple. Yes, really. This was followed by thrice boiled gefilte fish. Then crisps. Then poached chicken (no. Just no). Then bread. I tell you, if my original look of constipation wasn't authentic, it would be later. I was, for the most part, concentrating on having tiny quantities of everything, and not mentioning bacon / prawns / how much I love uncircumcised men.
And then the MM raises her ugly head. "Your father" she spits, "is sh*t".
This wasn't war. This was nuclear. And let me tell you now - that does not work for me.
Now, Larry - my dad's brother - was right there. He said nothing. But then how could he? He's been so verbally castrated by the MM for so many years now, I'm amazed he doesn't get confused about which changing room to use. (As in, he's forgotten that he's a man. Their marriage is a mystery to me. But anyway.)
I could have let the comment go. Goodness knows, I'd let enough others go already; "Your cousin, she is so stupid and ugly" Look who's talking "Your aunt, she gives sh*t presents. She is cheap and mean. Disgusting" etc.
But no, I'd been calm. I'd been nice. I'd sat politely through her rant about these "bloody foreigners in Australia" (Hello? You're MEXICAN). I'd listened to her talking about how the politicians were exaggerating about Mugabe, and that he's really a pretty fair guy (no comment). I'd heard a Jew-bashing on a grand scale (said of an acquaintance, "Her mother, she is not Jewish by birth. She only converted" So did you, you weirdo etc). I'd eaten the (gross) food. In short, I'd been pretty good. Extremely good.
But this - this was the final straw. Looking straight into her eyes (or what could be seen of them, under the bushy growth of eyebrow... why she doesn't tweeze is beyond me. I mean, I have "issues" on that score, but I groom regularly), I said very calmly, but with ice in my voice (no, I'm not dramatising) "Tara (her official, non MM name), I appreciate you having me in your home. However. I will not sit here and listen to you speak about my father like that".
Silence.
Larry was hiding under the table at this point, terrified that she'd reduce his (surely already seriously diminished) manhood to nothing. The girls, my cousins, were looking on dumbfounded. The sound of silence resounded as, for about a minute, Tara looked at me shocked. I think that the last person to challenge her was back in 1996. So this was unfamiliar territory for her.
I smiled, but didn't move. Didn't say anything. Just waited.
Eventually, (and with a heavy and almost incomprehensible accent, which I should have mentioned before), she says "Ok. So tell me about your degree..."
And that was that. War declared, a dictat issued, and a surrender (or truce, at least) issued shortly thereafter. It's not peace, and I doubt it ever will be - but she knows that I am always and unfailingly prepared to leave her house at any time. And as and when I have to, it will be straight into the arms of a non-Jewish man, eating a bacon sandwich. Yeah baby.
Boys and girls, I'm off now to see if I can't break some more laws on Kashrut (kosher stuff) before Shabbat is out.
I'll write again soon.
With love,
Belle de Sydney (proudly non-Kosher, non-discriminatory, but anti-Mad Mexicans)
x
Now before I start the story, it's worth you knowing the background. My family history is fairly complex, especially on my dad's side. The pertinent facts are these: my family is Jewish, although my parents and I have always been non-practicing. The lure of pork outweighs the lure of heavenly rewards (I mean, come on! A bacon sandwich is our heavenly reward, available on a daily basis, here on earth. Am I wrong?!).
But anyhow - my dad has a brother, Larry. And Larry married a non-Jew, who converted in order for his parents (my grandparents) to be happy bunnies. So, my Auntie - the Mad Mexican (this is actually her name... just so long as you don't use it to her face...) - is technically not Jewish, as she wasn't "born in" to the religion, as orthodox Jews believe you need to be, in order to be truly Jewish. To coin another technical term, she's also a raging bitch. (Harsh words, but true)
Before I carry on, I'd like to say that from my perspective, Larry should have married whoever he wanted to, Jewish or not, whether they converted or not. As per one of my earlier posts - I'm a believer in free love, free speech, and free chocolate (although the latter is yet to be really looked at by the UN. I'm hopeful that one day it will happen. But I digress). What matters to me is that someone has a good heart. The rest - colour / orientation / religion etc. is just background.
But Larry married the Mad Mexican (hereon known as MM), who - as the name suggests - is Mexican. And insane. And a bitch. Wow, this is becoming a tirade. Let me explain...
For 'Shabbat lunch' today, I was invited to the Larry & MM household. Now this was always going to be a tricky one. My father is shunned by them, for marrying my (non-Jewish) stepmum. (My mother is Jewish, which makes me Jewish and therefore acceptable in L & MM's eyes. Indeed, I'm practically "Super-Jew" having both sides who are entirely and completely Jewish). But my dad has broken the rules. And as a result, his existence is denied & denounced by the MM.
Now here's the thing - I don't do shunning. And I don't do people f*cking with people I care about. And my dad's the best. And he's happy with my stepmum. And other than her occasionally beating me with wet towels (she likes to live up to the stepmother stereotype) my stepmum is a great human being. Ok, she obsesses a bit about cleanliness (which is fine when you're a guest, not so much when you're living there...) - but no - in seriousness. She's great. The short story here is that giving me grief about either of them, or indeed, anyone I care about, is not going to go down particularly well. I'm loyal, like a shih tsu (see below):
Cute and fluffy on the outside, but a lioness inside. That's me.
So - I'm at lunch. I'm aware that my parents (i.e. my dad and stepmum) are shunned, which makes me feel fairly uncomfortable. I'm also aware that the Mad Mexican (she emigrated from Mexico when she met Larry) has dragon breath, and an expression to match. Fortunately, she's only 4'8, so should she really irritate me, I am prepared to squash her. Or knee her in the jaw. Whichever. (She really brings out the violence in me - not good). Anyway, I sit down, and Larry, the MM, and my 3 cousins (actually very sweet girls, despite their hideous mother) do the whole Jewish thing. I don't know quite what. I'm aware that prayers were involved. Beyond that - no idea. I just assumed the standard position of looking deep in thought, combined with an expression of serious attention. In all likelihood, I actually ended up looking quite constipated, but anyway.
Lunch gets underway. The MM is also a terrible "cook". Our starter was grated carrot with tinned pineapple. Yes, really. This was followed by thrice boiled gefilte fish. Then crisps. Then poached chicken (no. Just no). Then bread. I tell you, if my original look of constipation wasn't authentic, it would be later. I was, for the most part, concentrating on having tiny quantities of everything, and not mentioning bacon / prawns / how much I love uncircumcised men.
And then the MM raises her ugly head. "Your father" she spits, "is sh*t".
This wasn't war. This was nuclear. And let me tell you now - that does not work for me.
Now, Larry - my dad's brother - was right there. He said nothing. But then how could he? He's been so verbally castrated by the MM for so many years now, I'm amazed he doesn't get confused about which changing room to use. (As in, he's forgotten that he's a man. Their marriage is a mystery to me. But anyway.)
I could have let the comment go. Goodness knows, I'd let enough others go already; "Your cousin, she is so stupid and ugly" Look who's talking "Your aunt, she gives sh*t presents. She is cheap and mean. Disgusting" etc.
But no, I'd been calm. I'd been nice. I'd sat politely through her rant about these "bloody foreigners in Australia" (Hello? You're MEXICAN). I'd listened to her talking about how the politicians were exaggerating about Mugabe, and that he's really a pretty fair guy (no comment). I'd heard a Jew-bashing on a grand scale (said of an acquaintance, "Her mother, she is not Jewish by birth. She only converted" So did you, you weirdo etc). I'd eaten the (gross) food. In short, I'd been pretty good. Extremely good.
But this - this was the final straw. Looking straight into her eyes (or what could be seen of them, under the bushy growth of eyebrow... why she doesn't tweeze is beyond me. I mean, I have "issues" on that score, but I groom regularly), I said very calmly, but with ice in my voice (no, I'm not dramatising) "Tara (her official, non MM name), I appreciate you having me in your home. However. I will not sit here and listen to you speak about my father like that".
Silence.
Larry was hiding under the table at this point, terrified that she'd reduce his (surely already seriously diminished) manhood to nothing. The girls, my cousins, were looking on dumbfounded. The sound of silence resounded as, for about a minute, Tara looked at me shocked. I think that the last person to challenge her was back in 1996. So this was unfamiliar territory for her.
I smiled, but didn't move. Didn't say anything. Just waited.
Eventually, (and with a heavy and almost incomprehensible accent, which I should have mentioned before), she says "Ok. So tell me about your degree..."
And that was that. War declared, a dictat issued, and a surrender (or truce, at least) issued shortly thereafter. It's not peace, and I doubt it ever will be - but she knows that I am always and unfailingly prepared to leave her house at any time. And as and when I have to, it will be straight into the arms of a non-Jewish man, eating a bacon sandwich. Yeah baby.
Boys and girls, I'm off now to see if I can't break some more laws on Kashrut (kosher stuff) before Shabbat is out.
I'll write again soon.
With love,
Belle de Sydney (proudly non-Kosher, non-discriminatory, but anti-Mad Mexicans)
x
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